#...I just remembered the amount of moss on my stairs

[newtafterdark]

Speaking of the plants that were disrespected by my landlords -

A good chunk of them have grown back in & that makes me so happy! :D

Especially the big bushy (currently not blooming) ones in my big planters that are for bees & other insects during spring & summer!

But also my strawberries!! Both the wild one on the bottom stacked in the back on the two big bottom planters & the two "proper" ones hanging high, which will get their own terracotta planters soon!

[muchmossymess]

I need to stop sleeping all day its giving me wild as fuck dreams

[asmallpinkfan3]

Hello! First I really like your writing with Death, I just-to quote a certain orange kitty- words are not enough! I'd also like to leave a request, please. Death and a reader who, due to some supernatural set of events, is no longer human. (an explanation I've thought of for this- Death came for the reader when they were young, maybe ten years old. The reader ran into the forest near their home, and the trees and forest protected the reader by changing who they are- now their skin and hair harden into a bark-like state, moss grows on any scars that they have/injuries they receive, and they can coax things to grow. Basically, they become sort of a dryad.) For a scenario, idk it'd be interesting for death to end up coming back and seeing the reader, who's all "oh wow you're back." man idk.

That actually sounds so fucking cool to have moss grow where you have scars.

My friend talking about sims on call while I write this.

Death x reader who has nature like features.

Warnings: chasing?, near dying, swearing, y/n’s mom being mean, blood, bullying.

GN reader.

You always loved the forest, the way it was large and vast. As a child you explored it and found peace away from anything that troubled you. Your parents always warned you when you went in there feeling a shiver run up their spine when they saw you disappear in the trees.

They should have listened to the feeling. One day you head ended up tripping on a rock while you ran through the green and lush forest. You hit your head on a something you can’t remember at all what the object was but all you knew that was it hurt. You passed out for a while and when you woke up you saw something lurking in the distance and you immediately started to run. You were 10 you had your whole life ahead of and you didn’t want to go just yet.

The figure must have seen you run because it started to chase you, picking up your speed you ran deeper into the forest until there was a small clearing. Turning to see if it was still chasing you, you took a breath moving your hand up to your forehead. Your eyes widened at the amount of blood that was now on your small hands.

A twig broke you out of your trance and you looked up seeing a tall wolf with two sickles in his paws. “Kid you fell really hard and your losing a lot of blood”. he said his eyes looking slightly pitiful, he didn’t want to take your soul but unfortunately it was his job. “No”! Was all you yell before running again past the clearing.

He sighed and ran after you getting closer as you felt your body get weaker from the blood loss. After running into more trees you fell, he ran closer and before he could get you the trees caved and protected you. His eyes widened in shock, this has never happened before. Slicing his sickle towards one of the trees he was only met by a branch hitting him and throwing him back to the clearing. Sighing he got up and turned back to the way he came.

A couple of hours later you peeked your eyes opened and the sky was dimly lit only from the moon. Running your hand up to your head there was no more blood, just a soft feeling. Getting up you realized you needed to get home. Heading back took you a bit as you ran a long way to escape the wolf. Knocking on the door your mother answered and she pulled you inside.

“Y/n how could you stay out past dark”?! She yelled and your father came down stairs looking at why she was yelling. “Mama I was running an-“ “I don’t want to hear it y/n”! She cut you off pulling you to the bathroom, wetting a rag she tried to get the moss off your head only to met with you screaming. “Quit yelling it’s not that serious”. She coldly said and you winced at the pain of her still trying to take the moss off.

After a while she realized she couldn’t,”y/n go to your room your grounded from the forest for a month”. She said as she pointed to the stairs. You went up to your room and felt tears start to stream down your face, why did she not let you explain? Thoughts like that ran through your mind and eventually you fell asleep.

The next day at school was the worst, someone decided to try to fight you. When they punched you your skin turned into hard bark. You were the one who got in trouble cause you hurt their skin. From that point on you were bullied for being not like other people.

Your personality didn’t change that much though, it stayed the same. Your mother seemed to hate how you started to look, she would glare at you when ever you grew a plant in the yard and stomp it out, anytime your hair/skin turned to bark as a way to protect yourself she yelled at you to be normal.

She finally had enough of you for something you couldn’t help. One day she held a party at your house inviting everyone in town,But before the guests came she pulled you aside holding your arm in a tight grasp. “You listen closely, if you do any of that weird nature shit while people are here I will make sure you will never see that fucking forest ever again”. You didn’t even notice your hand start to turn to bark and slowly move its way up to her hand grasping harshly on your arm.

You nodded quickly desperately trying to make her let go of your arm. She did and backed up, “good”. She replied and walked to her own room to get ready.

That night you had stayed mostly in the corner letting your mother take all the spotlight. You were doing well until one of your bullies from all those years came up to you, he smiled and looked at you. “Hey I’m sorry for punching you in the arm all those years ago”. He apologized a soft smile now adored his face, wanting to get him to leave you alone you replied “it’s fine I we were kids after all”. You laughed, you didn’t forgive him at all you just needed him to leave. “Hey come with me I have something to show you”. He said grabbing your hand softly pulling you outside.

Once outside you panicked what was he gonna do? Suddenly you felt someone jump on you causing you to fall,you turned seeing another one of your bullies on top of you. She had a sick smile on her face and she started to punch you in the face, kicking her off you you stood and she got up, “hey miss face how have you been”? She asked before running at you this time you were ready and as she was about to punch you again you blocked it with your arms. Her smile fell and she screamed holding her hand in pain at the sudden hardness, taking that time you threw your own punch hitting her dead in the nose.

“Fuck you you bitch”. You said kicking her in the face. She tumbled backwards, what you didn’t see was the crowd of adults looking at you, this was their plan to frame you and make it look like you had attacked them. “Y/n”! You heard your mothers voice yell from the crowd as they all parted, “go to your room right now”! She shrieked as she grabbed you by the arm. Pushing you into your room she glared at you, “did I not say that if you pulled that shit I would make sure that you would never see the forest ever again”? You ignored her question, “pack your stuff your leaving tomorrow”. She stated as she turned opening your door and slamming it shut. You packed your things and put them beside the bed.

The next morning you left without saying anything to your mother, your father looked like he was on the verge of tears. You gave him a small smile to say your sorry and walked out that door. You lived with your friends for a bit the ones you made back in school.

After about 7 laster years you had heard about your mother passing you didn’t go to her funeral at all. You grew plants that day knowing she couldn’t step on them anymore.

A month later you heard your father get sick and you rushed over as fast as you could, opening his door to his room you saw him reading a book, sitting at the edge of the bed and he looked up to see who it was. “Hey dad”. Was all you could say and his eyes widened, “y/n it’s been so long I thought I would never see you again”! He shouted before coughing up something. Smiling you felt tears in your eyes you missed him so much how could you not.

“How has life been treating you”? He asked and you told him about all the events that you have managed to do. He was happy that you could do these things without being bullied anymore.

Hours later you saw him get tired and he looked almost frail. “Y/n could you get me a glass of water please”? He asked and you went down stairs to grab him some. Walking back in you saw the wolf sitting at the edge of the bed, you were scared a bit but now realizing he didn’t look like he wanted to hurt him. Giving your father the water the wolf asked you, “hey y/n could we talk outside”? The question took you aback but you nodded.

“Oh it’s been a while hasn’t it”? You asked him he gave a small smile at the fact your not trying to run again. “Yea it has I’m sorry for what happened when you were younger”. He apologized, “no it’s fine don’t worry man now I can grow plants with my hands and protect myself with tree bark”. You smiled at him he gave you one back. “You do know why I’m here right”? He asked and you gave a hesitant nod.

“Yeah, just please be nice to him while you take his soul he’s weak”. You told him, he nodded and went into your dads room. You couldn’t go inside and see the sight of your father leaving so you stayed outside the room.

Sorry that this is shitty at the end I generally didn’t know what to do.

[kermitkrqb]

One Man Band || Hunter Sylvester x reader

A/N: This is my first time writing any sort of fanfic and after watching Metal Lords on Netflix anddd seeing a lack of Hunter Sylvester on my feed- I simply had to!

What to expect: Angst to fluff, gender neutral reader, Hunter being too wrapped up in Metal, friends to lovers (I'm a sucker for this trope), shitty writing 💀

Kevin had left to play with another band, and as angry as you wanted to be- you really couldn't blame him. You've known Hunter since the both of you were in diapers. You were there when his mom left, you were there when he first learned about Metal, and right now you're watching his band- or what's left of it at least. Point is, you've always been there for him and you know how he can get.

Hunter had been playing for a while as you watched. His brows furrowed and fingers strumming endlessly on his guitar. In any other circumstance you would have found it hot but, right now you were pissed. You were more than happy in supporting Skullfucker but, everything had been about the band for the last month. Yet, here you are trying to learn the drums for Hunter and failing miserably.

"Fuck!" A loud sigh fell from his lips as he looked at you, "Did you even study the list of songs I gave you?" You were trying your best, you really were. Though right now he was just being ungrateful.

You scoffed, "C'mon Hunter, what'd you expect? Kev is the only decent drummer we know and you pushed him away!"

The guitar stopped, "Well Kevin is a traitor, running off to that pyscho bitch he calls a girlfriend!" His eyes rolled to the back of his head and he picked up where he left off. You were in shock, inching closer and closer to the stairs leading away from the basement.

You were glad that the light in the basement was so dim, otherwise he would've seen the tears starting to form, "At least he knows where his priorities are- in the people he cares about! I don't even remember the last time we hung out without you even mentioning Skullfucker! Or the last time we hung out at all! Some fucking best friend you are."

He stopped playing, he knew he fucked up. You knew, his dad knew, and his poor neighbours sure as hell heard too. But, you were already finding your way upstairs before he could reply.

"Y/n..." He was sorry, he really was. If you turned around, you would've saw how desperate he was and came back but, this was something he needed to fix on his own.

~

Days went by with complete silence on your end. Your lack of presence apparent everywhere in his life. He was blowing up all your social media accounts, hell-even the google docs you guys shared to talk in class but, nothing. He'd also even amended things with Kevin to convince you. Hunter tried to catch you in person but you were putting in an equal amount of effort in avoiding him. That was until a fateful Wednesday morning where he found you by your locker... with Clay Moss.

Hunter watched from afar, his fists clenched. Who did Clay think he was? First he had stolen Kevin and now he was going for his partner best friend? You could do so much better than Clay Moss of all people.

You and Clay were laughing about something stupid that happened first period when all of a sudden Hunter approached. You didn't say anything to him at first, choosing to ignore him when he turned you around to look at him. Clay had long sensed the tension and quickly left.

Hunter's green eyes met yours silently pleading and you quickly caved having missed him these past few days. You huffed, dragging him into the nearest empty classroom, "What do you want?"

He smirked, "You." You smacked his arm but, your flushed face told another story, "Quit fucking around." Hunter froze for a moment studying your face, he liked the effect he had on you and cursed himself for ever letting you go. You're his person. Realisation struck. Hunter Sylvester fucking loved his best friend.

He caught himself, "Right. Well, I haven't exactly been the best friend you deserve-"

You scoffed, "No shit."

He continued, "Let me finish- and I am so fucking sorry I made you feel so neglected. You're my best friend y/n, please. I even fixed things with Kevin. I miss you. "

Now it was your turn to talk. He seemed genuinely sorry but, you were tired of always being second in his life, "How do I know this won't just happen again?" Your eyes settled on the floor beneath you, that speck of dust suddenly becoming very interesting.

His hand tilted your chin up, forcing you to make eye contact, "Back at the basement you said that 'At least Kevin has his priorities sorted in the people he cares about'- and that got me thinking. You are my priority y/n. Shit, I'd even give up Metal if you asked. 'm in love with you."

Silence echoed the classroom at his confession. Hell- even Hunter was shocked. The words just flew out of his mouth.

But, that was long gone as you captured his lips in a short but sweet kiss, "I'm in love with you too, you idiot."

The pair of you guys stayed there the rest of the free period, stealing long overdue kisses within another.

[multifandomwriter56]

Devilment Mustn’t Win

A/N: I know, another Shelby!Reader; but I just love writing them. Hope you like it. Also, I got the title idea from S1E1 when Polly tells Tommy she sees his mother’s common sense and his father’s devilment fighting each other.

Summary: Y/n runs away to her sister’s to get away from Tommy. Her plan to get away from her brother doesn’t even last a full twenty four hours. 

Characters: Ada Shelby (Thorne), Tommy Shelby, Shelby!Reader, Karl Thorne

Warnings: language, angst, spoilers for the beginning of s3 even though this is set about a year or more after that

Word Count: 2,430

Y/n slowly opens the front door of her sister's home. She tiptoes through the hallway, hoping Ada is asleep.

She freezes when she hears a gun cock in the study. "Ada, it's me."

"Y/n, get your arse in here!"

The teenager groans at her sister's stern voice. She is not in the mood to answer questions.

Just as she enters the room, she hears the voice of the last person she wants to hear from.

"Fuck Ada, you knew it was her." Tommy lightly teases, but his eyes narrow at his youngest sister.

"What the fuck, Ada? You promised!"

Ada sets the gun on the table. "I didn't call him."

Y/n huffs. Why can't her brother just leave her alone for one night? Her eyes narrow when he points at the couch. "No. I'm going to bed."

"No, you're not. You're going to fucking sit and tell me why I found you missing this morning." Tommy demands, still pointing at the couch.

Ada rolls her eyes at her two siblings who are not having a staring contest, neither one of them budging. "Y/n, sit. Just get it over with."

Y/n thought about making a run for it, but she figured her sister is right. She might as well let her brother lecture her tonight instead of barging in tomorrow.

So with one last defiant glance at Tommy, she sits on the couch. "I'm not going back."

"Bloody hell." Ada mutters as a shouting match breaks out.

"YOU'RE A CHILD!!"

"I'M SEVENTEEN, NOT A BLOODY CHILD!"

"STILL NOT AN ADULT!!"

"ADA IS."

"Oi! Don't bring me into this." If she knew it would actually make them mind, Ada would've pointed her pistol at them.

"She already did when she came crying to you this morning."

"I wasn't crying!"

"Stop! Just fucking stop!" Ada shouts as she storms over to her sister. She grabs Y/n by the ear, forcing her to stand.

Tommy's eyes narrow when the eldest of the Shelby sisters comes for him. "Don't you fucking dare." He growls.

Ada ignores him and grabs his arm, pulling both her siblings through her hallway and up the stairs. She stops at the door to the bedroom Tommy uses when he stops by for one of his rare visits.

"Breakfast will be at seven."

"For fuck's sake, Ada."

"Tommy, breakfast will be at seven."

Tommy pinches the bridge of his nose, his eyes close. After a few seconds he drops his hand, nodding his head. "See you at seven."

Y/n watches in amazement as her stubborn ass brother opens the bedroom door, letting himself be sent to bed like a child.

"You have to teach me how to do that. Ow!" Y/n whimpers when Ada yanks on her ear.

Ada rolls her eyes when her little sister gives her the kicked puppy look. "I'm sure Tommy's done worse."

"I'm not going to run, Ada. Please let go of my fucking ear before it fucking falls off."

Ada obliges the teenager. "Honestly, you're as bad as him."

Y/n rubs at her ear as they make their way to her room. "Well, he did raise me, Ada."

"Yeah, and I regret not being more involved with your upbringing every fucking day."

Y/n turns to her only sister, pulling her into an embrace. "You helped."

"No enough." Ada pulls back, her eyes wet with unshed tears.

"Maybe, maybe not. But you're here now. Just in time too." She looks over her shoulder to make sure Tommy isn't trying to listen.

Knowing what Y/n's doing, Ada grasps her hand into hers and pulls the teenager into her room before shutting the door behind her. "You were saying."

Y/n tucks a loose strand of hair behind her ear, a small smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. "I like a boy."

Ada exhales a short giggle before getting control of herself. "Oh please tell me he's not a Peaky Blinder."

"No, he's not." The smile disappears. "Would it be a bad thing if he was?"

Ada mentally scolds herself as she rubs a comforting hand on Y/n's arm. "No, it wouldn't." She sighs when her eyes catch the time. "We better get to bed. Don't forget, breakfast-"

"At seven. I know. I won't be late."

The sisters hug and then the eldest leaves to go to her own room.

***

Y/n groans at the banging on her door. "Fuck off!" She freezes when she hears a young kid's giggles. "Shit, shit, shit." She whispers as she scrambles out of bed and pulls on the trousers she was wearing last night.

She opens the door to find a very amused nephew. "Hey Karl, let's not use any words your Aunt Y/n just used, okay?"

"Shit."

"Fuck, you heard that."

"Fuck."

"No, don't say that." Y/n's starting to panic. Her sister is going to kill her.

"You and Arthur had the exact same conversation when you were that age."

Y/n snaps her head to the side, her eyes wide and pleading for her brother's help. They may be at each other's throat at the moment, but Y/n will not hesitate to ask her brother to get her out of the sticky situations she seems to always get herself in.

And Tommy will never refuse to help his sister, no matter how angry he is with her.

He crouches down so he's eye leveled with his nephew and turns the child’s face towards him with his hand under Karl's chin. "Are you allowed to use those words, Karl?

"No, Unca' Tommy."

"Then don't use them against your aunt. Understand me? Don't say them anymore."

Karl nods before wrapping his arms around Y/n's neck. "Sorry, Aun' Y/n."

Y/n smiles, returning the embrace. "I forgive you, Karl."

The two siblings watch their nephew run towards the stairs and stops. He glances at them before slowly making his way down the stairs.

Tommy snorts. "Thought I was going to have to chase after him."

Her smile turns into a cheeky smirk. "Like you did with me when I would run down the stairs?"

He straightens, offering her a hand. "I still do."

Y/n takes the offered hand. Her amusement drains as she remembers why they're here in the first place. "How much trouble am I in?"

Tommy clenches his jaw, the anger from last night rising. "Let's go downstairs, Ada's waiting." He turns on his heel and starts for the stairs.

Y/n's shock by the change in her brother. She knew he wouldn't be happy when he found her missing yesterday morning; but why is he this angry? "This can't be as bad as the time I shot Moss in the leg."

"Y/n." He warns, pausing on a step when she continues.

"No, I don't understand. Why are you so angry with me? All I did was take the train to London and spend the day with my sister."

"Except you didn't." Tommy snaps, marching back up the stairs and towards his sister. "You didn't fucking spend time with Ada, did you?"

"During the day, yes." She tells him calmly. She's seen his anger explode enough times to be able to stay this calm. "I did leave the flat later that evening."

"And where did you go, eh?"

"I was with some friends at a pub." She knew he knew she had been drinking last night. Not enough to get drunk, just enough to feel it.

"Friends?"

"Yes, I do have friends, Tommy." She tells him bluntly. "I met them when you sent me here to get away from Small Heath. You know, when you slapped me across the face and said you wished I was never born. Remember?"

Tommy sighs, closing his eyes. That may have been a year ago, but the guilt is still there; and clearly, his sister still hasn't forgiven him. "Y/n-"

"I know. You're sorry and you didn't mean it. You were grieving Grace's death and I didn't help the process." She regrets bringing it up when Tommy opens his eyes and she can see the guilt eating away at her brother's tiny soul.

"Tommy I-"

"Do you want to live here? Do you-" Tommy pauses, really wishing he hadn't lost his lighter last night while searching for Y/n. "If you would rather live here with Ada and away from me, I won't stop you."

Y/n's not sure how to process his words. On one hand, she's excited about the idea of getting away from her brother's overbearing protection; but on the other hand, his question stabs her in the gut. Does he not want her around anymore? Did she finally push Thomas Shelby too far?

Maybe he would be happier without her. He wouldn't have to constantly look for her, protect her from others and herself; and he could focus on actually taking care of his kid, not his rebellious sister.

"Y/n, I'm not tryi-"

"Yes." She interrupts; not wanting to hear him pretend to care. "I want to stay with Ada."

***

"Hey, I was wondering if I was going to have to come get you." Ada teases as Y/n walks fully into the room. "I thought Tommy was awake. Where is he?"

"He went back home."

Ada frowns at the monotone coming from her usually dramatic sister. "Why? I figured he spent half the night rehearsing his lecture on leaving without his permission." When she doesn't get a reaction from the other Shelby, she starts to worry.

"Y/n, what's going on?"

"Can I live with you?" She refuses to look at the other woman, knowing the tears in her eyes will fall.

"Yes, of course." She moves closer, rubbing her palms up and down the teenager's arms. "Please tell me what's going on."

Y/n finally looks at her. "I'm going back to bed. I'm sorry. If you'll save me some breakfast, I'll eat it later."

Ada watches as her sister's spirit breaks in front of her. What happened since she left Y/n's room last night?

She calls for Y/n to come back, but she acts like she didn't even hear her.

A few miles away, a heart is breaking. He’s losing his sister. He pushed her too far this time.

She was right, Thomas. She wasn't even gone for twenty four hours. His mother's side scolds.

But she could've been kidnapped or killed in that short amount of time. Rebuttals his father's side.

You taught her how to fight. She wasn't purposely putting herself in danger. Not like when she joined the fight against Billy Kimber and was shot in the arm. His mother's side argues.

Tommy pulls over, his mind racing too much for him to pay attention.

He regrets suggesting that she stays with Ada. What the hell was he thinking? It was never wise to leave the two Shelby women alone for long periods of time.

Ada may be more mature now, but he has no doubt Y/n can talk her into doing anything the little devil deems necessary.

And he doesn't want her to leave. He loves having Y/n around. She may be his sister by blood, but with the age gap and him basically raising her (with Pol's help), he sees her more as a daughter than a sister.

"Why is that so bloody hard to admit?" Tommy mutters aloud, his words only reaching his ears and the wind's.

Deciding he needs to swallow some pride, he turns the car around and heads back to the streets of London.

***

"Y/n, please let me in." Ada begs as she stands outside the teenager's room. "What is going on? Why are you so upset?"

"I think I know why."

Ada's eyes narrow at the man. "What the bloody hell did you do?"

"Can I try?" He motions towards the door with a nod.

Ada shrugs her shoulders. "Why not?" She steps back, letting her brother take over.

"Y/n." He calls, knocking twice. "Open the door. I need to talk to you."

No response.

"Y/n, come on. Open the fucking door."

Still no response.

"Are you really going to force me to apologize to a bloody door?"

He grins when he hears a muffled, disbelief snort.

"Oi! I'm serious! Wouldn't you rather see your overbearing, overprotective, bastard of a brother apologize in person; instead of hearing it?"

He takes a step back when he hears the click of a lock being released.

"If you're fucking lying, I'm slamming the door." Y/n growls.

Tommy nods, the seriousness of the situation weighing back down on him. "I am sorry, Y/n. I should have never suggested you come live with Ada."

"Hey!"

"No offense, Ada."

"Why did you?" She needs to know why he even said it.

"I thought it would make you happy. I thought it would be better for the both of us. But-" He slowly lifts his hand and gently cups her cheek; internally relaxing when she doesn't flinch away. "I was wrong. So fucking wrong. I will be devastated if you don't come back to Birmingham with me."

"If?" She questions.

He huffs, his limit on being open is almost to it's point. "I'm not going to force you to come with me. It's... It's your decision."

He inhales one finally breath. "I'm mostly sorry for how I treated you a year ago. I was out of line."

Y/n literally watches as her brother's walls build themselves around his heart and the vulnerability drain from his eyes.

But she doesn't care.

He let the walls fall and the vulnerability rise for her. Her! Y/n Shelby, his baby sister.

So only hesitating for a second, she wraps her arms around his torso. "I forgive you." She smiles when she physically feels the tension leave his body. "And I'm sorry too. I know I've been a royal brat lately."

"Can't deny that."

The two siblings turn to their other sibling, the one smiling like an idiot with tears streaming down her face.

"Looks like I broke the two toughest Shelby's in one day." Y/n sasses.

And just like that, Ada sees her sister's spirit returning to it's full weight.

Tommy groans, pretending to be annoyed. "You couldn't give me a fucking minute without the sass, eh?"

Y/n smirks. "Have to keep you on your toes, brother."

The two older Shelby's easily read into the real meaning of that last word.

Father

Forevers: @beautycinders​ @desiredpoison​ @ravenoussss​ @simonsbluee​

[janaeekook]

Incapable ii. || {myg}

“You cant love Min Yoongi, he doesn’t know how to love. Or care for that matter. You’ll just end up getting hurt.”

pairing: assassin!yoongi x reader

word count: 2.4k

warnings: - mafia - depictions of death -

series masterlist

ii.

"This morning I received this." Namjoon spoke handing his phone around the room.

Unknown- You spill our blood, we spill yours.

"That's for rat face?" You asked,

"Has to be." Jin spoke.

"Taehyung do you think you could pull information from it?" Namjoon asked the tired looking, fluffy haired boy.

"I can try." He took the phone starting to get to work on it.

"Alright, Y/n, Jimin, get A-team together, gather as much information as possible." You both nodded, heading to the east wing to retrieve the 4 members of the A-team, Jeonghan, Jen, Win, and Kai. The members of army bowed to us as we entered, heading to the common room were you found the 4 sitting on the couch.

"Y/n, Jimin." Jeonghan stood quickly bowing which the rest of them followed.

"There's no need for formalities with me." You chuckled hugging him and Kai, You turned to Jen trapping her in a hug, Win who stood next to her smiled at you before you also gave him a hug, "I hope you've all been well, Namjoon gave us a casual intelligence mission."

Jimin handed Jeonghan a manila folder, his eyes skimmed over the pages before his eyes flicked back up to Jimin, "Is this all we have?"

"Unfortunately, yes. Taehyung is working on gathering more remotely, but they're good, they know how to cover their tracks." Jeonghan nodded at Jimin’s words before handing the folder to the other three.

"The Russian mafia? Why would they be in Seoul?" Win asked.

"Wouldnt be much of a mission if we knew right?" You jokingly poked fun at Win, He punched your arm lightly.

"Lets get going as soon as possible, we dont want to waste anytime." Kai said handing the folder back to Jimin.

Jeonghan nodded, "10 minutes, we'll meet at the entrance."

•

You tied your hair back and away from your face before leaving your room and heading for the main staircase, but the second you stepped into the hallway you collided with someone's chest.

The hands gripping your hips lingering longer than they should, the tips of the fingers constricting ever so slightly into your hips. You looked up your breath catching in your throat Yoongi's cold eyes stared back into your own, cheeks ablaze. Your skin all too aware of how he was holding onto your sides before they fell away.

"Uh, sorry." You hurried quickly away from him and down the stairs, not wishing him to know how much power he had over you. Or better yet read you like a book and know you'd fantasized about his hands on you the night before.

Yoongi watched you scurry down the steps. He had felt you shrink beneath his solid gaze, He felt you melt in his grasp, He had felt the control he had over you the brief moment you were in his hands and deep down he wanted more though he'd never admit it.

Jeonghan handed you an earpiece, you put it in your ear before going over the plan, "We're starting downtown dont draw attention to yourselves, you can't forget we're still highly wanted suspects by the government, and keep your eyes open. Understand?"

"Loud and clear." Jen said.

Jimin spoke next, "Alright, Kai and myself will be together, then with Y/n and Jeonghan, Jen and Win do you think you can handle yourselves on your own?" The two only nodded, they were experienced and used to working alone anyway.

You looked to your side peering up at Win, he glanced down at you and smiled. You all did a special handshake you made up years ago in training before heading out the door.

"Hey," a voice stopped you in your tracks, you turned around to see Jungkook, he wore a low V-neck shirt which exposed his tattoos that designed his neck and chest; complimenting  the sleeve running down his right arm. You told the others you'd be right out and turned your attention to Jungkook. He was a very attractive young man, you had found yourself tangled up in sheets with him on more than one occasion but nothing had ever been made official, it was more of a stress reliever than anything.

"Hey." You said with a smile which he quickly returned.

"Be safe alright?" He told you.

"Always am." This caused him to smile wider, before pressing a soft kiss on your forehead, and without another word you made your way out the door to join the team.

"What's up with that?" Win looked to you with a raised eyebrow.

"What?"

"Jungkook?"

"Its nothing." You said with a smile, playfully punching his arm.

"Hey just looking out for you." He said flashing you another priceless smile before climbing into the vehicle. You sighed, following after him.

•

It had been 2 hours since you started to search, you walked around the streets with Jeonghan. He was quite a bit taller than you, he wore a baseball cap that shadowed his face, a man bun tied at the base of his neck due to his long hair.

"That man, all black straight a head." He suddenly stated, his eyes narrowing at the suspicious looking man.

"You got something?" Jen's voice came through the ear piece.

"We're on the main road, it's a bit crowded but I've got my eyes on him, we'll tail him." Jeonghan said, the man was thin, if his behavior weren't so odd you'd probably look right over him. "He just turned left at the bbq shop, he seems to be headed towards the docks."

"Headed that way." Win spoke.

You and Jeonghan reached the corner the man had turned down, Kai and Jimin were there as well. Jeonghan looked around the corner before waving us on.

"Keep your guards up." You spoke in a hushed tone. We all continued down the rather quiet road compared to the bustling road you'd just come from, the dock ahead was old and rundown unlike central ports. An abandoned factory you'd assumed, stood at the end of it, all the windows boarded, moss stretching up the old concrete and rusted metal.

"Well that's not sketchy." Jimin stated from behind you.

"Spread out, surround the perimeter see if there's anything of concern." You suggested and everyone nodded continuing forward before splitting to circle the aged building, Win stayed at the front watching over the building and studying the main entrance.

You walked around, Jeonghan still at your side, The sloshing of the ocean to your right and the monstrous building to your left.

"Anything?" Kai asked through the ear piece.

"Negative, Jen?" Jeonghan said.

"Nothing here."

"It doesn't make sense for there to be nothing, circle back around to Win. Win you have anything at the front?" Jeonghan asked, he was answered with silence, "Win, do you copy?" His question was met with another chilling silence. A blood curdling scream came from the direction we had come, you and Jeonghan looked at each other before taking off in a sprint.

You found Jen on her knees sobbing in front of Win, blood spilled from his throat staining his shirt before it seeped into the fine cracks of the concrete around him, forever stained a rusty red puddled that began to encircle his head. Your stomach lurched at the sight, the choked noises as he tried to find his breath but only finding his blood which was suffocating him slowly. An odd looking weapon still stuck in his chest, ungodly amounts of blood spilling from his fatal wounds, you felt frozen as he choked on his own blood. What could you do? Could you do anything? You felt utterly hopeless, fear clawing at the back of your mind, you didn't want to lose someone else, but what could you do?

You willed yourself to move but your feet didn't budge, Jens hands frantically trying to cover his wounds, to cease the blood from evading his body. Your eyes finally met his, softening upon seeing you, you'd bet you'd looked rather like a deer in headlights. His lips shook as he continually struggled for breath, but he managed to quirk them upwards the slightest bit, as if to tell you it was ok before you watched in horror and unexplainable helplessness as his eyes rolled back into his head, his chest no longer rising and falling, in an attempt to take in stuttered uneven breaths.

"No." You whispered, not wanting to believe the sight before you.

"No." It couldn't be Win.

"No." There was no way he could be dead.

Your mind couldn't process it; that he now laid there, no light, no life behind his eyes. Gone. Warmth fading from his skin.

Jen wrapped her arms around his body, You took stumbled steps towards her pulling her up into your chest, She continued to sob, gripping at the back of your shirt with her blood stained hands. Win had been with us for as long as you could remember, you stared at his pale face before allowing a single tear to fall. You looked around for any sign of the person who'd taken your friends life.

"I-Its my fault! I-I sh-should've stayed with him." Jen cried into your chest, you closed your eyes more tears slipping over your cheeks.

"No, Its not your fault. None of us could've known." You spoke softly into her ear, stroking her hair in an attempt to calm her down. When in reality your mind was just as frantic as hers, you mind begging for Wins eyes to open and tell you he was alright.

But he wasn't, the blood being evidence to that. It was real. Painfully, brutally real.

"We need to get him out of here." You told Jimin still holding onto Jen.

"I'll call Jungkook." Jimin said, his face seemed as shocked as the rest of us. No one had ever been able to sneak up on Win before or land an attack on their own, the person who did this had to have been very skilled.

•

You sat silently in the passenger seat, Jungkook driving. When Jimin had called him he thought it had been you that got hurt, although he was relieved, he had just lost another brilliant gunman. It was only the two of you in the car, the others had been taken in another one.

"You alright?" He finally broke the silence, his tone was soft.

"Ya, nothing I haven't seen before." You bit the inside of your cheek, trying desperately to bite back the tears that threatened to spill.

"It was Win, y/n." His tone dropped lower, you didn't want to respond for fear of your voice breaking. When you joined, you spent most of your time with Win, Jeonghan, Jen and Kai. They were your best friends and they got you through a lot.

It was quiet the rest of the way home, when Jungkook pulled up you jumped out walking up the steps and pushing the door open. You headed straight for the stairs not acknowledging the eyes of everyone on you as you came through the door.

"Y/n." You looked over your shoulder to see Jungkook and the others looking at you, "Where are you going?"

"Bed."

"It's 3 o'clock, Y/n." His tone remained soft.

"I'm tired." You stated, mentally cursing at yourself for allowing your voice to break. You hurried up the steps and to your room, shutting the door behind you and sliding down the dark wood as your body shook with each silent sob that racked your body.

•

"Y/n? Why didn't you save me?" The blood ran from his throat, soaking his all white clothing in dark crimson.

"I-I'm Sorry."

"Do you know what it feels like to have your throat slit?"

"N-no."

"Maybe I should show you then-"

You screamed yourself awake, it carried through the whole house. Hot tears spilled down your cheeks as you sobbed, the crown of your head littered with beads of sweat as anxiety ripped at you. The door to your bedroom swung open. Jungkook was the first one in followed by your brother and the others. Namjoon's eyes softened at the sight of you, he hurried over pulling you into a hug.

"Shhh, it's ok." He caressed you're hair in a soothing way.

"J-joonie, it was awful."

"It was just a dream, you're safe." He whispered, you looked over his shoulder, everyone's faces filled with worry, even Yoongi. You let your glistening eyes linger on his, "Get some rest ok?" Namjoon asked, pulling himself away from the embrace, you grabbed his wrist.

"Stay."

He sighed, "I've got work to do, y/n." You pouted.

"I can stay." Jungkook spoke from behind Namjoon, who now looked at Jungkook questioningly, "I'll watch over her."

"Is that alright?" Namjoon turned whispering to you, You nodded, he gave your hand a squeeze and smiled sadly at you. He remembered you getting nightmares when you were younger, and having to hold you until you fell back asleep, he wished he could be there for you like back then but his work called. He lead everyone out of the room to continue their prior activities. When the door had shut Jungkook immediately climbed into the bed next to you, propping his elbow on the pillow next to yours, resting his head in his hand.

"You alright?" He asked, you laid on your back staring at the ceiling.

"It was just a bad dream." You told him, not wanting to elaborate. He simply hummed in understanding, "did you get any information off the weapon?" You asked quietly fiddling with the sheets in your hand.

"We don't have to talk about that, y/n." He spoke soothingly.

"I want to know, Jungkook, please." You turned your head to look him in the eye, letting him know you were serious.

"Well, while you were asleep, I began to analyze it. It's an oddly shaped knife, the letters N-C-T were carved into the handle. They seemingly want us to know who they are, but the question we're trying to figure out now is, why?"

"N-C-T? Who are they?" You questioned but Jungkook shrugged.

"Beats me, they seem to be another group and we can't underestimate them anymore," He spoke as he played with the ends of your hair, "You should get some more sleep."

You nodded, though deep down you knew you'd wouldnt be able to fall back asleep; That your subconscious would only torment you. He put his arm around your body, your mind wandering, feeling miles away from your physical body. The thoughts left in your mind turned over again and again; Who was NCT? What are they looking for? What are they trying to prove?

taglist: @art-myg @hwaddict @ahgasearmyfan @gee-nee @janeelizabeth1216 @elliegrace1999tvd @sunnynxy @boba-king-iroh @deathkat657

[eagehaunting]

Mystery March 2021 day 8: Home

I used today as an excuse to write out a little something on how Lewis took possession of the mansion! I hope you guys enjoy!

Lewis wasn’t sure how long he had been in this mansion. If he could focus enough to estimate, probably a few days, if worse came to worse, probably months.

And yet, he still hadn’t cleaned... Lewis turns a corner and takes in the long, dusty corridor. The many rickety doors stared back at him mockingly. The rugs hissed as they crunch under his shoes. The peeling wall paper threatened him with every step that he took.

“Lewis, what are you doing?” Comes a voice to his left, shocking Lewis out of his exhausted stupor and bringing him to look at the wall- more appropriately, the portrait. The woman with fine purple curls- Faust- stares back at him pointedly. “Well?”

“I... I wanted to get out of my room,” he admits, before his eyes wander to the mildew forming beside the portraits golden frame. “But now I remember why I didn’t want to come out.”

“Oh, don’t be like that. I know it seems difficult now, but it’ll become easier. I promise.”

His frown deepens, and Lewis sighs miserably while leaning against the wall across from her. “I know.. I just don’t think I’m ready.”

“Why’s that?”

“I haven’t gotten a hand on my powers. Not yet, ” Lewis admits, chewing on his lip. Faust rolls her eyes, but props her elbows on her frame. Even though she couldn’t poke her head out far enough, Lewis understood the sentiment.

“Lewis, look at me.” He drags his gaze to meet hers. Faust’s eyebrows soften, and she heaves a gentle sigh and leans out a bit more, letting her curls fall out and touch the dirtied ground. “Being dead is tough, trust me, I know. Being in your shoes is also hard, and I can’t imagine how much it’s hurting you to deal with what happened.” The almost condescending tone- something Lewis knew he was imagining - made him flinch, averting his gaze to the painted tree in Faust’s background. He almost regrets sharing all of his backstory with her, and if he knew she would have this tone most days, he would have kept his mouth shut.

“The house is ready to accept you, and so are all the occupants. We will stand behind you every step of the way.”

Lewis grimaces, but nods. There wasn’t a point in fighting her right now. He had a good feeling all of the other portrait ghosts would be on her side too. It only makes sense. Lewis did accept the role as the new owner... he just had to take control, let his power manifest.

Now if only it wasn’t so hard.

Clicking her tongue, Faust straightens up. “Worry not, Lewis. You don’t have to do it this instant, the moon is still out and clearly you aren’t in the right state of mind. Now...”

A distant familiar clacking of metal grew nearer. As two suits of armor step into the entrance of the hall, they cast Lewis a worried look. One that Lewis doesn’t return, instead opting to glare at the stained rug.

Faust continues, “I think it’s time for you to go back to sleep. We will figure your abilities out tomorrow.”

Lewis follows the guards up the steps, and then up another. The wall paper, bricks, and windows full of moonlight blurs together until it accumulates into one door. His door. Leading to the single highest room in the entire mansion.

The guards take their stand on either side of it, nodding to Lewis carefully and not waiting for him to nod back before stilling.

“Thank you, sir Clive, sir Ranveer.” Lewis murmurs, pushing open the door and stepping in.

The room is simple, despite the elegant state one may expect. An old, wooden bed frame, scratchy wool blankets and a silk top sheet. Light pink curtains that flutter in the open window. Lamps on either side of the bed that didn’t actually turn on.

His room, and yet far from it.

Pulling the blankets aside, Lewis crawls into the bed, nestling his face against the pillow and pretending like he couldn’t smell the light stench coming from it.

Tomorrow he will take hold of his power, and he will make this mansion his home.

His home, for him and all the spirits already residing within it.

Lewis’s eyes moisten as he falls into his ‘slumber’. Praying for no nightmares.

“Im going to take the lower path, why don’t you two take the other... don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine! I have Mystery.”

“Dont cling to Lewis too much Ar...”

The moss and slimy green walls reflected like a million eyes. All watching. All staring.

Even as Lewis peered up at his own hand, clutching his torch, knowing what was to happen... he wished more than anything that he could simply turn around.

His stomach drops, his blood runs cold. The sudden halt broke his fall, his spine bent oddly and digging behind his bellybutton.

Cold. Cold. Yet so hot.

Empty. Yet rushing. A river, but still. There was so much light at first, and then it was so dark. Growls, howls, screams of every kind...

Loneliness.

All he wanted... was for them to come back. Save him.

Of all the memories Lewis had to revisit, why did it always have to be this one?

There was still gaps, such as the moment when he hit the spike, and when he forced himself up. How he even did it, Lewis wasn’t sure, but he couldn’t focus on that when the gaping wounds in his chest filled with with and stung from the cold.

His legs still ached from the stillness and the fatigue, and from the exhaustion of being awake despite dying. He wobbled far, tracing his dead fingers along slimy walls and against currents of chittering laughs. Then the constant thought. A mantra. Over and over. Come back for me. Come back, please.

Wake him up from this bad dream.

If only he accepted that it wasn’t going to happen...

He didn’t know where he was going, nor how long he was going to walk, but Lewis didn’t stop until he was face to face with a tall metal gate that shined unlike the eyes in the walls.

The rusted lock doesn’t break, but Lewis pushes through like jelly.

The staircase was a nightmare. Transitioning from cave stone to proper granite the higher he ascended. All while the prickling sensation of being watched crept up his back and urged his weak and heavy body to move faster.

Lewis ‘wakes up’ up with a shallow gasp. Eyes wide, he pants. Slowly turning his head, a layer of sticky sweat clings to Lewis’s face. He wipes it away and peels back the blanket, crawling out of the bed as the lingers of his ‘dream’ fights to hold the forefront of his mind.

His friends... they still haven’t come back for him. The guards would have alerted him if they returned to the cave, and Lewis would have been rushing out the doors if he heard the familiar engine.

They weren’t here. Lewis isn’t sure why he kept expecting them to suddenly show up.

Pushing himself to move, Lewis hops into a float and drifts to the door. Figuring that he may as well show that he has a grasp on some of his new abilities, now he just needed to realize what his main skillset was.

The guards lead him down the flight of stairs, past the library, and the office, and to the largest room in the mansion.

The living room was filled with an air of elegance, even if covered in dust and mildew. Several portraits line the walls beside the mighty fireplace, and leading to it was two long couches and an even longer coffee table. Book cases sat in between the tall windows, and smaller spaces left unused seemed to act as their own mini lounge, with a smaller bookcase, chair, table, and lamp.

Lewis compared it to a community center before, but now it felt like a stage.

More guards file in behind Lewis, with Sir Clive and Ranveer taking their positions behind him. He could feel a heavy, although gentle pat on his back from Ranveer.

After that, the dozen or so smaller, formless and colorless ghosts fly in and take their seats on the cushions.

The fireplace before him seemed to smile at him. With its decorations acting as its wise and considering eyes.

A line of sweat slides down Lewis’s cheek. Now wasn’t the time for stage fright, but his legs lock up in their floating position. He inhaled slowly.

“Psst.”

Glancing over, Lewis catches the soft, affectionate smile on Faust’s face. She tilts her head. “You got this.”

Lewis balls his fists, ”Do I? I really didn’t expect everyone to gather for this...” he admits.

“We know.” The portrait of the priest, Father Zachariah, responds. He gives Lewis a stern look, reminding Lewis to stand straight. “We didn’t want this to be a private affair. If you are really taking over this mansion like you said you would, then we have to right to partake in your awakening.”

“Aw jeez, give the man a break, will ya?” Another portrait, Terri to wrestler reaches out and fists some of Zachariahs robe, glaring at him. “Can’t you see he’s nervous?” He then says, throwing out his hand in a grand gesture toward Lewis, who shrinks back slightly.

Tamaki, the attorney, rolls his eyes dramatically and pinches his brow. “Lewis, I can assure you this isn’t a judgment, quite the contrary. We knew that it would have been hard for you to do this on your own, so we are providing an ample amount of support throughout the activities. Do you understand?”

He nods, unsure how else to respond, although the exhaustion made Lewis want to join the spirits on the couch and take a long nap.

The two portraits of shadows, Haseeb and Ameena, also nod in tandem. “Yes, Lewis. Infact, since you enjoyed music, we wanted to bring out the excitement.... I hope you’re okay with that.”

“Speaking of which,” Faust pipes up, leaning out of her frame and narrowing her eyes at the spirits sat on the couch. “Weren’t you all supposed to grab your instruments? Where are they!”

The colorless ghosts jump and flash past Lewis in one synchronized movement, before rushing back just as quickly. Returning with old violins, cellos, flutes, clarinets, and trumpets. Two more lag behind, with a cymbals, and one final one dragging something heavy. He turns, eyes widening as a singular spirit drags a *piano* from a closet he didn’t remember being there.

”Hold on, I’ll help you.” he says before realizing he was moving, that is until he floats past to the other side of the piano and bracing itself underside. Only for the spirit to send him an anxious look.

Oh.. it’s probably too heavy for them to also lift. Lewis spots the mini orchestra and waves them over. ”We need more hands, come over here and help up.”

Abandoning their instruments, several more spirits rush and brace the other side, allowing the piano to be lifted and carried earlier.

“Yeah you deadbeats! Why do you need his command to get a move on?” Terri calls, anything but cruel however. Deadbeats... that’s an interesting term. Lewis faintly ponders as he sets the piano down, before going to retreat the stool.

At the same time, the living rooms doors open, and the puny skeletal gardener drags in the painter spirit.

“Rye! Thank you for fetching Elora.” Tamaki says.

“Oh eff off,” Rye responds, plopping down on one of the chairs and sinking down. “I was busy trying to save up my energy for tonight’s show. You want there to be flowers, right?”

Flowers?

“Yep, thats why the windows are open. Let’s wait until Lewis is prepared however.”

”N-no need to wait, I’m ready now,” Lewis squeaks out, clearing his throat as he turns and takes in the grumpy strawberry looking gardener.

Rye bobs their skull and spins away from him, “Fantastic.”

She raises her arms, and in a swift motion, glows the same ripe red color as her dress. All at once, the windows are swarmed with vines. Green foliage spilling in, connecting across the ceiling, draping and tangling amongst the curtains, and wrapping around the stone busts on the bookcases. It happened so fast that Lewis couldn’t react. Instead he gaps up at the magnificent display, watching as floral arrangements burst, forming meticulously designed patterns along the entire room.

When he finally tears his gaze away from the display, Lewis is met with calm, expectant smiles.

“Ready whenever you are, bucko.” Rye pats his arm and reclaims her seat, leaving him in the center of his imaginary stage.

Now, his anchor beats twice as fast, almost overwhelmed by all of the effort, all the eyes sim directly at him.

Pressing his finger tips together, Lewis wets his lips. Several heads tilt as they wait.

Clearing his throat, Lewis lowers his head,”... I’m sorry. What am I supposed to do first?”

Faust gasps lightly, the first to realize their crucial mistake. Ignoring Terri’s chiding, she clears her throat.

“Of course, Lewis, the first thing we need you to do, is concentrate on your internal thoughts. As you do, try to figure out which emotion or feeling is more prominent.”

A single note plays from the deadbeat sat at the piano, followed by the violin, and a growing hum from the others who hadn’t begun to playing. Lewis’s heart skips a beat, and he bites his lip as he closes his eyes. The piano continues, the notes floating through his mind and striking chords that were far from forgotten.

A new set of voices fill in the emptiness between notes, running alone side the piano and dancing along with the violin. A flute begins, and Lewis sharply inhales.

He loves music, he always has, it always made him want to dance. Grab the first person in arms length and pull them close, whether it be the waltz or a swing, it filled him with warm laughs that always spread across his face in a smile. A familiar tingle fills his arms, and Lewis is sure that he can feel Vivi in front of him, swaying as they listened to the music. The warmth grows as she fills his minds eye. Her soft scarf tangled in between them, how her skirt swirled and swished as she spun and dance, leaving him warm in the face and his chest full of bubbling warmth.

Warmth. He felt warm.

That certain warmth fills his hands, tingling at his finger tips and running along his scalp.

The room smelt faintly of decay and staleness, but a memory envelopes him, and Lewis is in his families kitchen. Dancing in place and singing at the top of his lungs with his sisters twirling around him. Cinnamon, garlic, sugars and herb fills his nostrils. The lavender and sweet floral in the air elevating the smells of their garden which he pranced through many times during the warm summer nights. The bonfires, the flare of heat from the oven, the thick humidity in a late evening as Lewis arm wrestles with his much scrawnier friend.

The warm spreads up his elbow and all along his back. Before Lewis knew it, the singing, the music grew loud, amplifying as more instruments add to the mix, and as his own voice joins them. A crash of the cymbals becomes the splash of the beach, and the laughter chittering along with it.

His heart races, and the warmth becomes hot and exhilarating as he recalls the endless nights of fondness. Of redness in his cheeks from drinking alongside his friends, on his tongue as he taste tests his fathers latest recipe, and the swell of pride upon seeing Cayennes first ballet recital.

Pride, love, happiness.

Spastic notes become fireworks. Blasting, rocketing, exploding across the night sky. It becomes the crash and crackle of buildings as he and his friends rush from burning buildings, away from spirits whose voice booms too loud. The warmth spreads to his legs, in the ache of running, carrying his friends over his shoulders in a desperate need to escape. As his heart burns in the terror of thinking they were hurt. In wanting to slam his fist into the fiends face for daring to threaten his loved ones.

The guards dance with him, metal clacking and sparking. Lights spot the area as Lewis shoots out his arms and pulls one in against his chest to spin in tandem, before releasing them in a dramatic flourish.

Anger, fear, the need to protect.

His friends, his family.

The loves of his life-

Lewis opens his eyes, and the passion fueling his movements die in an instant.

His hand glows, his arm flaring. A line of fire burns away from him, pink and flaming and just as excited as he was. Gasping, Lewis tears himself away, slipping and hitting the ground. The music screeches to a halt all at once. Everyone freezing.

“Lewis, are you okay?” Faust calls out, gripping her frame as if she were going to rip herself out of it. Concern warping her face, along with the other portraits, the ghosts, everyone.

“You were doing good!” Terri says, “don’t tell me you got cold feet!”

Tamaki nods in agreement, “it’s truly delightful to see you smile for once. I was worried we would never see it.”

Shoulders tense, Lewis’s eyebrows furrow.

That... was him?

Baffled, Lewis holds his hand in front of him, and sure enough his palm was glowing. He tenses the muscles, and he jumps as a small flame puffs out at him.

”I- wait, seriously? I did it?”

“Yes, you did. Marvelous work, Lewis.” Zachariah hums approvingly. The warmth- embarrassment and concern- floods his chest, before Lewis is smothered by smiling deadbeats swarming him in a hug. Curling around him and nuzzling their formless heads against his.

His legs twitch as Lewis rises, floating naturally instead of jumping this time, and becoming upright.

Everyone is smiling at him, faces warm and bright with delight. Warm with the same sentiment, that it was time to make this his home...

He knew it, they knew it, that had to be the entire point of everyone gathering. Not to help him, but to watch him accept them as his new family... leaving his old.

Leaving his family, and his friends...

Faust is the first to speak, eyes crinkling. “Are you ready?”

What about Vivi? Arthur? How is he going to be there for his sisters? How can he keep his friends safe if he can’t be there for them. He can’t abandon them. Because they won’t abandon him. They wouldn’t. They’re coming back for him.

”No. I’m not.”

The disappoint was clear by the stilted air. But no one argued with him. The deadbeats had sunk, their instruments hitting the ground in shock, before being lifted up and taken back to their proper places. The vines retreat and retract, and quietly, the spirits all left the living space. Even the first place seemed to grow cold, if that was even possible.

Lewis didn’t say anything to the portraits when he left the room and raced upstairs to his tower of solitude. The same thought racing through his head again and again.

They’re coming. They will.

Soon. Soon...

Soon...?

Feeling trapped and terribly homesick, Lewis crawls under his blankets. His eyes sting from moisture that shouldn’t accumulate in the sockets, but he wipes them away anyway. Pulling the blanket over his head, Lewis curls into a ball.

Why did it hurt so much reject them? Why did it hurt so much to hold off for so long?

What was he expecting? For Arthur and Vivi to pull up in their bright Orange van and pull him out of the bed, pull him into an embrace, and into the van. Whisk him away so he can embrace his mami and papi, kiss his sisters and tell them how much he missed them.

Why was he even holding out hope? They arent coming back! Why would they...

Arthur killed him... Lewis’s arms shake and he grips the blankets. Arthur shoved him off that fucking cliff with a smile on his face. He should be grateful for anyone to accept him into their family.

He wanted to slam his fist into his gut, to direct the pain from his aching chest. Lewis wanted his eyes to stop stinging.

But he couldn’t. Home was where they were, and he has been thrown away.

Lewis fell into a half sleep, living through the same memory of his death again and again. Watching as his nightmare loops with his life being torn from his grasp with a single push.

That one moment of inaction, the one second of trust. And now?

Lewis is dead.

The memory looped for a fifth time, with Lewis desperately searching for an escape from the grip of reality, when the universe finally gives him one.

An engine. It’s not loud, and it rattles lightly. Lewis pops awake, disoriented from the jarring switch from the cave to his bed, but he disregards it.

Tearing the blankets, an adrenaline thrashes through him. Warmth, heat, rocketing through him. It burns his soles as the impossible dangles right in front of him.

It can’t be, is it really them?

Are they here for him?

Lewis’s anchor skips a beat as he almost falls down the first set of steps. Before he hits the steps face first, his body vanishes in a burst of flame and reappears with a running start at the bottom. The halls wake up with the pound of his feet and his heart, and Lewis forgets that others lived on this decrepit mansion as he races to the main stairway, leading to the front door.

He expects specks of blue, yellow, and white to meet him there. For smiles to spread across their face as they run to swallow him in a hug.

Lewis freezes. Heart going still. Heat draining as he takes it in...

There’s four people, who he hardly recognizes, except for the role they were trying to play as they whisper amongst themselves.

”This place wasn’t here a few days ago.” “do you think it’s a trap?” “Do you think anyone’s here?”

Paranormal investigators...

They start to wander, poking at the busts and pushing open doors, unaware of Lewis staring at them.

It’s not them, his friends aren’t coming.

Now strangers are in ... in this mansion, disturbing the people who have been nothing but kind to Lewis.

The need to protect returns, strong and lashing as his fists ball up, tears stinging his eyes.

Teeth grinding, heat pools into his hands, and fire spits out like sparks of electricity. Finally grabbing the investigators attention as he stomps on the first step. The fire crackles, leaving a singed footprint in its place, but Lewis doesn’t care. Focusing on the bug eyed look of the four intruders who back away in mounting terror as the flames rise.

Breath coming out in hisses, Lewis growls. ”Get out.”

It was enough to send the four scrambling for the door, the engine roaring again as they undoubtedly piled in. Just in time for the suits of armor to clamber behind him, looking around in shock until they see him.

The furious gaze didn’t die upon seeing them. No. Except Lewis turns away from them and floats to the bottom step, theres a strain on his body that extinguishes the fire in his hands, but that didn’t matter.

Lewis rounds the corner, leaving a trail of smoking fire pits in his wake.

Until he’s stood in front of the fireplace, the hearth that he was instructed to simply light it to accept his place as the homes new owner and protector.

His first family protected him, but his loved ones ended his life. Now it’s his turn to ensure the safety of the only family he may have left.

Lewis’s arm wavers as he lifts it up, a ball of fire burning his palm and spitting in every which direction as he glares at the fireplace, whose glass doors open wide.

The flame shoots out, and upon making contact with the bricks and wood, the entire mansion lights up in a magical blast. Transforming peeling wallpaper to freshly striped, strewing chandeliers in every room it could fit, burning away the rot and leaving the floors warm and spotless.

Everything around him changed in an instant, but Lewis doesn’t see it.

His anchor hits the ground with a soft clink, hot to the touch and wet with tears.

[meadowmood]

Ramdula’s Visitor

This the first short story upload I will be doing for all of the work I did for my senior show centering around my own stories and characters. If you would like to view the entire exhibition now, click this link! It includes a number of short stories, illustrations, and character bios for your viewing pleasure!

Read the story below the cut!

(content warning for themes of death, self harm, and suicide) A heavy feeling sunk deep into Beau’s bones that evening. She was sitting on the old woven chair outside of her home, wearing only a thin blouse and trousers. The air was warm, broken only so often by a cool breeze blowing across the meadow in which her home sat. What little light there was began to wane, and faint twinkles of stars began to peek their way into the sky as it darkened....

It was a beautiful night, but Beau was aware of none of it. Not the sky, not the breeze, and not the stars. 

Her eyes were glassy and seemed to stare at something non-existent. She had come outside to ground herself, to feel something beside the numbness that consumed her mind and body. instead she felt nothing. She sighed as she sat and stared out into the meadow, the only thing she could hear were the thoughts in her head. She was exhausted by her own mind. 

Why did something she couldn’t live without have to be so loud? 

It’s been so quiet in the house since Mara died, she thought. Mara had been her closest friend who lived in the house with her. Like so many times before, her mind flashed back to her death. They had been in the university lab cleaning up after class, chatting casually as they swept the floor and wiped down tables when a sudden large flash of light and a tremendous crash rang out. Beau fell flat on the ground under the force of the blast, suffering a few cuts and bruises, but when the smoke cleared and Beau came to, she was still alive and relatively unharmed. 

Mara was lying completely still, a single pipe running through her stomach. Dead.

Beau clutched her stomach instinctively as she remembered the sight. Apparently a student had failed to store a number of potions properly, and the resulting mix of chemicals and spells had been enough to cause an explosion. Thankfully no one else had been hurt. 

No one except Mara. 

Since then, Beau had dropped out of university. She didn’t wait to see how the school would bend over backwards to make it all okay, to pretend it never happened. She just wanted to go home. Except home was empty, and full of Mara’s things and memories of their life together. The life they should have had together. She held back tears as the wounds opened themselves anew and she felt rage within her at how unfair it all was. Why Mara? Why did her Mara have to be taken from her?

She had the sudden intense desire for numbness, for peace from her emotions. She couldn’t go back inside, nothing but hurt lay in there. 

She stared up at the meadow and her eyes landed on the forest that lay beyond it. She had never ventured into that forest herself, but people said that a reclusive spirit resided there, and Mara had always told her to be wary of it as the spirit could be malevolent. But Mara wasn’t here anymore, and whatever was in that forest might hurt her, hurt her enough that it would take all of the thoughts away, all of the pain. It would be quick, and she wouldn’t have to live in a home without Mara anymore. She wouldn’t have to live at all.

Before she could consider anything else she was running, the air growing colder as she neared the forest, the biting chill barely registering as she ascended the hill toward the trees. As Beau reached the treeline, breathing heavily from the run, she stared up at the massive pines, and before she could bear to give it a second thought, she ran straight into the trees.

Beau ran frantically through the forest making a tremendous amount of noise, breaking twigs and cracking dry leaves. Eventually she found herself making her way down a hill, its steep incline covered in wet moss and slippery stone. The slope caught her by surprise, causing her to fall onto her hands and knees. She yelled out in pain as she hit the forest floor, her skin stinging from the rough ground. She bit back tears as she held up her shaking hands, now covered in small cuts and debris. Before she could try and stand up she heard the footsteps of something large and heavy approaching. She turned to see a huge black dog. It was ginormous, easily meeting her eyes as she kneeled. Its long silky fur and pointed ears almost making it look like a grounded bat. Beau screamed and held up her hands in front of her, her body turning numb as fear washed over her. The dog stood still, and as she let her gaze wander from its piercing stare she noticed a great number of dogs behind it, standing just as still as their leader.

Beau broke the silence “KILL ME THEN!!” she screamed, waiting for it to attack. The dog simply stared back at her and tilted it’s head, as though it was trying to understand her. “DO IT!” she shrieked, almost pleading for the stupid beast to do something. “Go on! KILL ME!”

The dog walked closer to her and opened its mouth, its teeth white and menacing in the evening light. She flinched, waiting for the pain of the bite to come, but instead it grabbed onto her blouse. Beau put her hands down, confused, as the dog gently pulled on her shirt. A moment later she felt the other dogs behind her prodding her back, pushing her forward as the lead dog continued to tug on her shirt. She shakily got herself to her feet and began walking as the dogs continued to pull her, shuffling noisily as they guided her farther into the woods. 

Where are they taking me?

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As the sky darkened and the air chilled, Matthias stirred. He raised his head among the sea of black fur of his packmates and pricked his ears up at the sound of his master stirring in the floors above him. He jumped up and yipped at his pack to get up. The dogs all sleepily got to their feet, noisily ascending the stairs from the basement toward the castle throne room. They met her in the hall at the top of the stairs, Matthias running to his master’s side as she walked the boisterous pack down the hall. He kept pace with her as he stared up at her face. She was somber, as usual. Matthias tried to picture with difficulty the last time she looked truly happy. She made a noise and motioned toward the front of the castle. Matthias knew this to mean she wanted him to patrol the grounds. He barked and led his pack out of the castle, across the drawbridge and into the dark forest. 

As they reached the edges of the territory Matthias pushed his snout to the ground, forcing a myriad of smells into his nostrils. Images of running deer, rabbits, squirrels, and songbirds all flashed in his mind as he patrolled the outer edges of the grounds. His large black paws produced deep impressions in the soft soil as he padded along, the rest of his pack following close behind. They kept their ears pricked and tails held high, ready to alert their master of any intruders. The forest air was cool and quiet, the crisp air felt good on his thick coat, energizing him as he led his pack around the forest’s perimeter.

The silence suddenly broke as a twig cracked in the distance and the sound of something making its way into the forest shot through Matthias’s ears. Crackling underbrush, heavy breathing, and panicked footsteps tip-toed their way into his mind as he located the figure. He signaled for his pack to remain quiet. Together they walked low to the ground toward the mysterious visitor. As they approached he could see them more clearly. They were a small creature, running on two legs and heading toward the castle. He titled his head, observing them struggle and stumble through the dense underwood of the forest. They didn’t seem to know where they were going, and they certainly didn’t seem dangerous. Suddenly the creature tripped and let out a yelp as they fell forward. Matthias ran to the noise, closely followed by his fellow dogs toward the fallen figure. As he neared them he slowed his pace and approached them carefully, unsure of what to do until they turned suddenly and faced him, letting out another yell. He held still, taking in everything he could see of the figure in front of him. They appeared frightened, eyes wide and fearful as they held their hands in front of their face, ready to defend themselves. This was not a dangerous intruder, he concluded. 

The creature suddenly let out a sound, a garbled noise he found hard to understand. They were not speaking an animal language. He stood up straight and tilted his head, trying to at least make out a command or a familiar word. The figure repeated themselves, louder and more desperately this time, and he almost winced at the intensity of their cry. The noises were similar to his master’s, and he wondered if she could possibly understand the visitor. 

He walked forward slowly and opened his jaws, the figure flinching as they expected to be bitten. He instead clasped the cloth that decorated them and pulled them forward. His pack realized what he was doing and did the same, some gently pushing on her back encouraging them to move forward while the others began to bark and yip as they walked ahead. The figure stood up shakily, and with the dog’s gentle motivation they made their way to the castle. The creature was slow, and shook as they walked, but with a good bit of gentle pushing and encouragement Matthias was soon able to see the silhouette of the castle peeking over the trees. He ran ahead and let out a deep, haunting howl. As he did, a heavy clanking rang out into the night as a drawbridge lowered itself over a wide moat surrounding the building. He turned and called back to his pack, who excitedly pulled the visitor into the castle, anticipating meeting their master.

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Ramdula walked solemnly through the halls of her castle, tightly gripping the hilt of her sword as her large group of black dogs padded happily behind her. She entered the throne room and sighed deeply. She was barely awake and it was only early evening. 

“Matthias,” she called to her lead dog, pointing to the front of the castle. “Begin your nightly patrols. I am heading to the library.” The dogs perked up at the command and headed to the castle gate, barking excitedly as they thundered across the drawbridge into the trees. 

Ramdula watched them go and drew the drawbridge up again with a wave of her hand, heading toward the other end of the room and through a large archway. After making her way down a dark spiral staircase she entered the library, a huge, airy, and circular room residing in the underground beneath the castle. The air was cold and dry as she scanned the dark wooden shelves, flickering fireflies illuminating Ramdula’s path down the corridors, flittering soundlessly around her head. The library was like a maze only she knew how to navigate, the endless twisting rows filled to the brim with books, journals, and manuscripts. Sitting in between these shelves were old items of previous residents. Armor of fallen enemies, weapons, garments, and treasures of old all passed her as she looked for something interesting. After 345 years of life, she had just about read everything the library had to offer twice over, and she was immensely bored. With a glazed expression she scanned the shelves she had stared at for centuries, looking for something, anything, that she might have missed, forgotten, or looked over. 

Nothing. 

Everything was familiar. Everything was uninteresting. 

With a heavy sigh she reached for a sizable book with a soft red velvet cover, now faded and worn at the edges. It was a book of local folklore and myths, the stories it told holding a special place in Ramdula’s heart. They were her favorite in her younger years. She flipped through the yellowed pages, recalling every word as they flashed passed her eyes. She tucked the book under her arm, ready to take it somewhere comfortable to read when she heard a howl. It was Matthias wanting to come back in. It didn’t sound like an alarm, perhaps he was looking for something to eat before patrolling. Ramdula rolled her eyes and focused her magic on lowering the drawbridge, walking toward the spiral staircase as she did so in order to climb her way back to the throne room. 

As she walked down the hallway and turned the corner around the stone arch, she met a sight she never would have expected, not even if she had lived to be a million years old. A young, teary-eyed, bedraggled looking girl was standing in the middle of her throne room, staring at her like she was on trial for murder. She stood absolutely still for a moment and then looked down at Matthias, who had walked up to her and sat down at her feet, tongue hanging out of his smiling mouth. 

“Matthias, dear, what exactly have you dragged into my home?” she sighed, motioning toward the visitor. The black hound simply stared back at her, shifting his feet in excitement. Ramdula sighed again, and peered into his mind to see what happened. Within it she saw him patrolling, the figure running into the forest, their fear, and Matthias desire for understanding. 

“Hm.” she said, unamused, and turned to the girl, who went rigid under her gaze.

“Hello…little...person,” she began. “You have mistakenly wandered into my home, I presume, and have been escorted by my familiars who for some reason think,” she glared down at a perfectly unaware Matthias, tongue still lolling from his mouth, “I will have something to say to you besides ‘please leave.’ I am not sure why they have brought you here but you need not stay. Head along home now, no harm done, just…” she waved her hands in a shooing motion at the girl, “get along. Matthias can show you out.” 

Ramdula waited for a response, expecting the visitor to appear relieved at her dismissal, but to her unfortunate surprise the girl looked even more upset than before. 

“W-what?” she stammered, eyes going wide with shock. “That’s it? you’re not going to kill me?” She began to sniffle, tears began pouring down her face. 

“Oh, I feel so stupid, why did I even come here?” The dogs crowded around her and began to whine, licking the tears off of her face as she sunk to her knees. 

“I’m s...so sorry I don’t  know why I came here,” she cried. “I guess I’ll go now, and go…h-h… ho...” A fresh new flood of tears burst from her eyes as she tried to finish her sentence instead crouching forward and covering her face. 

Ramdula stood still, looking especially uncomfortable in the presence of this sobbing creature. She gripped the hilt of her sword in her palm and rubbed it nervously as she pondered how she could rid herself of this small, distressed child without making them even more upset. She had already asked them politely to leave, she was not sure what else she could do about this. She had a sudden intense desire to be back in the library. 

“Child, look. Listen please. I am not going to kill you unless you give me a reason to, which you have not done thus far so, um…please don’t cry, you may go back home unharmed,” Ramdula said, stepping a little closer. The girl looked up at her, her eyes swollen and red, she looked quite a mess. 

“Well if you’re not going to kill me then I am not sure why I am here. I’m not sure what I’m doing at all,” the girl admitted. Ramdula’s expression went from uncomfortable to confused, her brows furrowing as she tried to understand.

“You came here..to be killed?” she asked the girl, brows furrowed. “By me?” 

The girl nodded, and Ramdula tried to think of what in Lun’s name she could be talking about. That was it. She needed this incomprehensible little creature to give her a straight answer this very second. 

“Matthias, go fetch the crackers and tea from the basement.” Matthias scampered away as she looked at the rest of the pack. “You, blankets. You, a kettle. And you, cups. We are going to be here a while.” The girl uncovered her face and looked around as the dogs dispersed, scattering down the hallways and descending stairs in search of the items they had been assigned. 

“Child, it seems you have a story you need to tell, and you are going to be a right mess until you get it out. So first,” Ramdula said, crossing her long legs as she sat on the floor, “tell me your name.” 

The girl wiped her eyes and tried her best to sit up straight. “Beau, Beau Conway” she said quietly.

“Lovely to meet you, Beau Conway. My name is Ramdula, and this is my castle.”

Before long, the dogs all returned with their items (coated in copious amounts of drool), and they had set up quite the cozy atmosphere in the throne room with blankets, hot tea, and crackers. Ramdula conjured a magical fire in between them, and the warmth of the flames breathed new life into the throne room. With a cup of hot tea and several large dogs lying on her lap, Beau explained everything. She told Ramdula about Mara, how she died, and how everything had been tainted by her memory: her home, her school, and even her own mind. She couldn’t escape all of the pain and feelings that surrounded her. She had just wanted it all to stop. The thoughts... the hurt… the memories… she had just wanted to feel numb. 

“A-and I saw your forest, and remembered what Mara said, that there might be a malevolent spirit inside, that might hurt me,” she said quietly, “so I ran inside hoping something would end me before I gave it too much thought,” she sobbed, her eyes welling up with tears. “A-and you haven’t hurt me, you’ve been so nice, I’m so sorry I shouldn’t have come here and bothered you so much. I’ve just been stupid, I-I’m sorry” she started crying again, and buried her face in her hands. Ramdula looked at her, having remained quiet the entire time Beau had shared her story, and twirled her tea spoon in her cup as she spoke.

“Sometimes, we cannot control where our lives take us. I do not blame you for coming here,” she said, setting her cup on the ground carefully. “However, if you truly are seeking death, then I am sorry. That is something I cannot grant you,” Ramdula said solemnly. She stood up and stretched her huge wings out to their full length before folding them back into their resting position. 

“I cannot claim to know exactly what to tell you, Beau Conway. But I can say if your home is a source of pain for you, you may stay here for the night, and decide if you would like to return in the morning.” 

Beau lowered her head, still sniffling. 

“Thank you,” she said.

“For everything.”

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Beau was led by Ramdula to a spare room, a journey that took them down a myriad of twisting stone hallways. “The dogs can stay with you while I perform my duties for the night.” She looked down at Matthias, a slight smile on her lips as she looked down at him. “You have the night off, lucky dog.” 

She bid them all goodnight and disappeared down the hall, heading somewhere unknown. Beau entered the room and saw that it was a plainly decorated stone study with a large bed at the far wall. She crawled under the covers, still a little dazed from that evening's events. As she got herself comfortable, the dogs climbed onto the bed with her and curled up on every inch of the blankets that she didn’t occupy. She started to doze to the sounds of the dog's heavy breathing. Her thoughts unoccupied by grief as she drifted peacefully into a deep slumber.

Before Beau knew it, morning had come, and she awoke in the same place she had fallen asleep. None of it had been a dream, she realized. She sat up, rousing the dogs that were sleeping on the bed with her and rubbed her eyes as she made her way to the door. The dogs, now fully awake, all crowded around her, waiting patiently for the door to be opened. She turned the knob and was nearly pushed out into the hallway by the rush of excitement of the hounds as they ran down the long hall. Matthias stayed behind, nudging her gently in the right direction, and when they reached the throne room Ramdula was nowhere to be found. Matthias put his nose to the floor and barked at Beau to follow him, leading her past the archway down into a spiral staircase.

The dogs thundered down the stairs into the dark underground, Beau following them closely behind. As she reached the bottom the narrow corridor opened into a huge circular room filled with endless rows of shelves, and she found she had come into a huge library. Right in front of her in a massive armchair sat Ramdula, reading a large red book with worn edges. 

“Ah,” she said, closing the book and setting it aside, “you are awake.” She stood up to her full height, and for the first time since meeting her Beau realized how tall the spirit was, towering above her by at least several feet. “How was your sleep?” Ramdula asked, leaning down slightly to meet her eye.

“Good!” Beau replied, she reflected momentarily at how well rested she felt, her mind was the clearest it had been in months. “Really good, actually, best I’ve had in awhile. Thank you again for being so kind,” she said gazing into the spirit’s eyes.

“Do not dwell on it, it was nothing at all,” Ramdula replied. She turned around, picking up the red book again. “Do you like to read?” she asked.

“Very much so,” said Beau, admiring the books as she did.  “This library is stunning.” 

“Yes, it is quite a sight for someone who is unfamiliar with its contents isn’t it?” Ramdula said, sighing deeply. “Unfortunately, I have read every word contained within these walls, so I cannot say I share the same awe you feel now.” She held out the book she grasped in her hand to Beau, allowing her to admire it. “This one I don’t seem to tire of easily. It is a collection of stories you might find enjoyable. I definitely did as a young pup.” 

Beau held out her hands and grasped the book tenderly, almost afraid it would turn to dust in her hands. “Wow, thank you,” she murmured, enchanted by the book's intricate gold leaf cover. As she stared at it, an idea crept into her mind “Would you like more? Books that is. I have some at home.” 

Ramdula perked her ears up, sporting an unfamiliar expression of child-like excitement. “More books you say? Now that sounds interesting.” 

Beau grew more enthusiastic, happy she had piqued the spirit’s interest. ”Yes they are! And I would like to thank you for what you have done for me. I can bring some by tonight, would you want that?” 

Ramdula paused, considering the offer. “I would, actually,” she said contemplatively. “I am not very good around regular humans and the like, so I haven't added any new books to the library in centuries. It’s a shame, since it is a tradition of my ancestors to build the knowledge this place holds.” She stared out into rows of shelves before turning back suddenly. “You said you slept exceptionally well last night?” she asked, peering at Beau before continuing. “Let’s say you wanted to sleep here for the foreseeable future. When you did, I wouldn’t mind you bringing me a book in exchange for a night’s rest in the castle...hm?” 

Beau’s eyes widened as the proposition sunk in. “You wouldn’t mind?” 

Ramdula shook her head. “On the contrary, Beau Conway, you would be doing me a favor in exchange for small effort on my part. I would be delighted if you accepted.” 

Beau’s eyes shone with happiness at the idea, a wide smile breaking out across her face. “Yes, YES! I can definitely do that. I will be back tonight with all the books I can carry! Thank you THANK YOU!” she cried. Beau ran back up the stairs, book in hand and ready to head home, this time not dreading what she would see inside.

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Ramdula watched her go chuckling as she disappeared up the stairs. What a peculiar person she was. She had an inkling that the most interesting thing Beau would bring back tonight was herself. She had to admit she didn’t just want the books, though they were quite tempting. She had actually enjoyed talking to someone besides the dogs for once, and to her surprise, looked forward to having company over for dinner.

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Matthias listened to the visitors footsteps slowly fade away up the staircase. He was happy to see they weren’t afraid anymore. He stared up at his master’s face, and for the first time in a long time, he saw content in her eyes. 

[xxxsoukokuxxx]

Painful memories

Characters: Ango Sakaguchi; Dazai Osamu; mentions of Odasaku in memories and such

Warnings: quite angsty, Dazai’s typical mentions of suicide

Notes: I got this idea from a post that @panisestgladio made, thank you. I’m working on requests, but I just wanted to get this out because it has been lingering in my head for a while now. Let’s get on with the fic.

____________________

Calming wind blows through Yokohama. A man dressed like a scholar with rounded glasses stood on a short staircase. He looked on in the distance being entranced by the sea. It seemed to sparkle like little diamonds. Green grass, green trees and green moss here and there. Grey tombstones contrasted the amount of green.

The man with the rounded glasses, named Ango Sakaguchi, adjusted them and started walking down the pebble colored stairs. He walks through a little forest of tombstones with different names on each of them. Names of people who have now joined the peacefulness of death.

He stops at one that reads “Oda Sakunoske” and stares at it for a minute in meaningful silence. He sighs and sits down on the soft grass with his knees in level with his chest. “It’s been a while hasn’t it? Odasaku.” he says into the vacant air as if he’s going to get a reply. But he knows he isn’t. 

“We had quite a lot of cases to document and file today, it surely was tiring.” he says with a voice full of exhaustion. He leans back on his hands and tilts his head up to look at the cerulean blue sky. A few clouds here and there. “...I know I’ve wronged you...but...I apologize for that. I know it’s unforgivable but I do wish to stay friends...even in death.”

“Do you use that bag to travel?” asks Odasaku, pointing to Ango’s briefcase.

“Yes, but it’s not for anything special. Cigarettes, an umbrella, and a few tools for self defense.” Ango opens his briefcase for Odasaku to see. “There’s also a camera for work.” 

“That’s it, let’s take a picture!” Dazai bursts out suddenly, “As a commemoration!”

"Commemorate what?” Odasaku asks

“To commemorate the three of us gathering here today? Or Ango’s return from his travels, successfully handling that bomb threat, whatever reason’s fine!”

“Yes, executive, sir.” Ango shrugs his shoulders, drawing out the black camera from his briefcase. It’s a vintage film camera. It’s already very old - the black paint is starting to peel at several parts.

“Take a handsome one.”

Ango laughs bitterly as he takes a photo of Dazai and Odasaku sitting beside one another. He takes another one of Odasaku himself. Odasaku then takes a perfect photo of Dazai placing his feet on the bar stools leaning back.

“Dazai, why the sudden urge to take photos?” asks Ango

“I don’t know. I just feel like if we don’t take a picture now, there won’t be another chance for us to leave behind evidence that we used to come here together,” Dazai smiles.

The last picture taken out was of all three of them sitting beside each other on the bar stools.

He’s brought back to reality by a sudden gush of wind. Ango blinks and stands up shakily from his daze, remembering the memories created at Bar Lupin. The place where the trio used to go drinking. He sighs again heavily, “Goodbye for now...Odasaku.” he says softly and takes his leave. “Dazai’s words...were like a prophecy.” he mutters underneath his breath.

_____________________

Ango occasionally visited Oda’s grave, sometimes out of guilt, sometimes out of loneliness. Each time he visited the cemetery a painful memory never failed to grace his tired mind. 

Sometimes he might have a little picnic with Odasaku or rather his grave. But the guilt never left him. 

___________________

It was dusk and the sea seemed to be swallowing the fallen sun. Lonely footsteps made their way through Yokohama cemetery. Ango was slouching a little as he got to Odasaku’s grave. Once there he sighed and sat down against the grey tombstone. His head plays melancholic tunes from the bar that the trio used to frequently visit.

“Hey Ango. Didn’t think you’d be here tonight.” says a daunting but somewhat cheery voice. Ango jolts forward in shock. He turns around to find a familiar brunette. He was so tired that day that he failed to notice that there was someone else visiting Odasaku’s grave. Someone who was apart of the trio.

“Dazai...I didn’t expect that you’d be here either this evening.” says Ango trying to keep a steady voice. “Yeah well I ran out of suicide methods to try for now, so I decided, why not visit an old friend of mine?”

Ango stiffens up a bit. “I’m not surprised that you’d be here though. After all, we were friends right?” says Dazai in a low voice. “Dazai...” “You didn’t think I’d forget did you?” 

“...I understand what I did was not right but in the end I was only doing my job.” Ango says sternly. “And that job was killing your...friend?” Dazai mocks him. Ango lowers his head and stares at the ground. Him and Dazai sit facing opposite ways with their backs to each other. “I know it’s useless trying to stay friends with you...but at least I can still have that with Odasaku...somewhat.” Ango whispers.

Dazai sighs heavily and gets up shoving his hands into his pockets. Ango looks up at him. “Yes, you’re right. At least he’s forgiving enough to forgive the person who lead him to his own demise.” Dazai deadpanned.

Ango doesn’t say anything. He can’t say anything. No matter how harsh it sounds...he knows it true. The truth hurts doesn’t it? He just watches Dazai stride nonchalantly out of the cemetery.

He recovers a little from what happened and takes out the photograph of all three of them at Bar Lupin from his pocket. It was gone old now but still kept in good condition. He narrows his eyes. The melancholic atmosphere drowns him.

If only he could turn back time and didn’t even meet them at all. Perhaps then it wouldn’t have hurt so much.

[cascadena]

Rekindled - Ch 2

SUMMARY: Post-BotW. Zelink. Hyrule now turns to an exhausted Princess Zelda to pick up the fragments of the fallen kingdom. Link, who is still piecing together his own past and traumas from his own journey, realizes that he has to be the one to help Zelda back on her feet. Together, they travel the land to begin the rebuilding process, and uncover a new, mysterious threat along the way…

GENRE: Adventure, Romance, Hurt/Comfort

WORDS: 44K (12 Chapters)

STATUS: Complete

RATING: T for Teen | Contains Action/Violence, Blood, and (Of-Age) Alcoholic Beverage Consumption, Kissing Scenes.

Start at Chapter 1 here, or

[Read on FF.Net]  &  [Read on AO3]

...

CHAPTER 2 - The Princess Releases Her Knight

Zelda

Impa somehow caught onto my intention to leave before I even stepped down the stairs into the gathering room the next morning. “Where will you and Link be headed?” She asked before I greeted her. Paya sat beside her.

I froze in place. “How did you—?”

Impa laughed. “We saw you two talking outside in the moonlight last night, all romantically,” she said. Paya clasped her hands to her cheeks in embarrassment at her admission of spying on us and stepped out of the room.

“Oh, Impa! You watched us?” I sighed in exasperation. If one thing hadn’t changed, it was Impa’s keen senses of my feelings towards Link. A hundred years ago, she had claimed she knew I’d develop a crush on him even when I still despised him for holding the Master Sword. Ironically, her granddaughter, Paya, seemed to be exponentially more shy than Impa at the same age. 

“I was disappointed  I didn’t see a kiss, but maybe he hasn’t quite caught up with you yet,” Impa smirked, and I felt my face heat. “So… where are you two going?”

  “Hateno Village. I have been convinced to take a rest before starting my duties,” I said.

Impa hummed. “Hateno, huh? You might not be resting much if my sister gets wind you’re there…” She pointed to a small plate of scrambled eggs on the table and I sat down across from her. 

“We will only be there a short time. However, I have faith that the Sheikah can begin cleaning up the castle without my presence...” I said between bites of egg. My stomach immediately protested at the presence of food but I managed to keep it down, thankfully. At least Paya remembered to only prepare a small amount for me.

“I will see to it, Your Highness.” A hint of sorrow touched Impa’s smile. “I should have known better than to direct you back into the castle so soon. I’m sorry.”

I shook my head. “No need to apologize. It’s important to begin as quickly as possible but I…” I trailed off, unsure how to put my feelings into words. I’d always been shot down quickly by my father when voicing my opinion on the running of Hyrule in the past.

“You are lucky to have him looking out for your health,” Impa said quietly, referring to Link. “He has always looked out for you, even before the calamity.”

I nodded as I finished up the breakfast, and Paya stepped into the room. She held out something folded in her hands. ‘Your Highness, these are yours.”

I gasped. It was my old field research clothes. A hundred years ago, I had stopped at Impa’s home to change into my prayer dress before traveling to Mount Lunayru before the calamity. I couldn’t believe they were still intact, and Impa had kept them in perfect condition over all these years.

“I always had faith you would return victorious, and then want them back,” said Impa with a grin when I went to hug her.

I found Link outside the inn tending to his horse. He’d seemingly stuffed the saddlebags with as much produce from the shop as possible. His eyes looked tired—I hoped he hadn’t stayed up all night on guard. “Good morning,” I said. ���Did you sleep?”

“Enough to ride. Are you ready to go, Your Highness?” He asked. I frowned, wondering if he had stayed up keeping an eye out for monsters all night. He tightened a belt on the horse to secure an impressive spear—one of his spoils from the castle, no doubt. “Epona can hold us both, though I’m willing to walk to give her a break every so often.”

I patted the nose of his horse as it turned its head to me. It was a slightly larger beast than his old horse. A pain shot through my core as I remembered that my beloved horse was most likely yet another casualty in the calamity. Link’s horse seemed to sense my change of heart because she nuzzled into my hand.

“I’m ready,” I confirmed.

After thanking Impa and Paya for their hospitality, we set out on the southern path. I had never ridden with Link on the same horse before. Before the calamity, we used to ride around on our horses together, exploring Hyrule between my training sessions—only after I had warmed up to him, of course. On those days in the wild, riding around with Link, I felt free from my burdens. 

It felt… familiar to be alongside him again. It was just the two of us, riding through the lush, quiet mountainside to the rhythm of Epona’s drumming hooves. We passed over the Kakariko Bridge and I watched sunlight dance on the water surface below. 

I wrapped my arms tightly around Link’s torso to steady myself as Epona trotted up a steeper hill, and I was a little surprised at his slenderness. Perhaps he’d lost a lot of weight during his slumber, or maybe his knight armor had always made him appear larger than he was in actuality. 

“You are quiet, Your Highness,” said Link.

Admittedly, I was still incredibly tired which lent to my abnormal quietness, however I was still taken aback with his comment. “I guess… I’m not yet used to the idea that you’re much more conversational now.” 

“I just seem to remember you speaking a lot in the memories I do have, Your Highness, even if it was a one-sided conversation.”

I scoffed. “What is that supposed to mean?” I couldn’t hide my giggle when I heard Link chuckling. That was a rare sound to hear… Or was it, now?

Initially, it horrified me to think about how his personality could change and he could grow to resent me after his restorative slumber. Robbie and Purah had explained, upon the shrine’s discovery and excavation, how the facility would deprive patients of their memory, and its restorative powers should be a last resort. I had no choice when he fell, and the spirit of his sword told me it would save his life. 

Yet, he still returned to me with a smile, and though he acted a little different around me now, I decided I did like this new, more relaxed Link.

I eyed the Master Sword, still on his shoulder, and I wondered if he should return it to the Lost Woods to slumber, now that the calamity was over. Its spirit hadn’t spoken to either of us, as far as I knew, since the calamity. Perhaps we would need to visit the Great Deku Tree soon.

I bumped lightly into Link’s shoulders when his horse stopped. I looked around in confusion as we had not yet reached Hateno Village. The damaged remains of the gate to Fort Hateno sprawled ahead, and a plain littered with Guardian corpses spread around us. 

I inhaled sharply. “Blatchery Plain,” I breathed. My chest felt heavy. “Can we stop at the wall? I would like to pay my respects.”

Hundreds of decaying Guardians, frozen in time, destroyed by the Hylian soldiers and my own awakened power, were spread across the field. I crossed my arms as I looked out at them from where we stood. The tall grass that fluttered in the wind revealed piles of rubble and small graves decorated with flowers from loved ones hidden around them every so often. The damaged wall of Fort Hateno was covered in moss and vines, unkept and left to the elements over years of abandonment.

This was the state of the once great Kingdom of Hyrule. Ruined.

...Because I only found the secret to unlocking my power too late.

I dropped to my knees and made no effort to stop the tears from flooding down my cheeks as I sobbed. Link stood beside me and held his sword to the ground. I had no idea how long I sat there and cried, looking over the battlefield, and letting the remorse wash over me.

Link stepped away behind the wall for a few minutes at one point. I paid him no mind, figuring he’d gone away to relieve himself or something. However, I was surprised when he returned with food in hand. Cooked food.

“Where did you—?” I gasped, wiping tears away when I saw the cooked bird leg he offered in front of my face. 

“There’s a cooking pot outside a cabin back behind the wall. Try to eat. You need to build up your strength,” he said. 

I nodded and dried my cheeks before accepting the meat. I bit into the flesh, surprised to find he’d seasoned it with some salt and spices. I had never seen Link cook in the castle when he was just a knight, so he must have learned in the wild.

He seated himself beside me and leaned back against the stone walls, gnawing on a bird leg of his own. I ate about half of mine until I felt my stomach twist and decided against eating further.I offered him the rest and he took it without protest.

Link stared down at the grass. His eyes glossed over. “This is where fell—where I failed you.”

“Link…” I whispered and rubbed new tears away from my eyes. “You protected me to the last moment. I could not have had a better Hero.”

Link exhaled and I saw him staring at one of the guardian corpses from afar—possibly even the exact one that had prompted me to unlock my power. I wondered what he was imagining in his head. “Your Highness, I will attempt to live up to the knight I once was to you…” 

I offered him a small smile. “Just please try not to jump in front of a laser for me and die again, if you can help it.”

He clicked his tongue. “If I have to do it again, I will,” he said. I blinked, feeling my face flush even though his sentiment should not have been a surprise to me at this point. 

We arrived at Hateno Village late in the day. I had fallen asleep against Link’s shoulders shortly after we passed under the Cliffs of Quince, and I only woke once I heard the high pitched giggle of a child as we trotted into the village. Link waved at a villager hunched in a field of bamboo that called out to greet him. I sat up in the saddle, attempting to look more presentable, but the villager paid no special mind to my presence. Two small children bolted by us, waving at us as they passed before continuing on. I waved back at them before Link directed his horse down another path. Another person sweeping the area outside her house greeted us briefly before continuing her work. 

I’d never experienced this feeling of… anonymity? No, normalcy, perhaps, before. No matter where I traveled in Hyrule as a child, the people always knew who I was. If not for my royal clothes, then because of my entourage of knights or accompaniment with the King. A hundred years later, with no formal entourage, none of these villagers knew my identity yet. In their eyes, I was probably just a guest of Link’s.

It was...strangely refreshing.  

We passed over a bridge that led to a cozy looking little cottage. Link stopped the horse in front of the door. “This is it,” he said before helping me down. As I stretched my legs out, he unlocked the door with an old key on his belt, and ushered me inside. “Welcome, Your Highness.”

I stepped inside as Link fetched his groceries from Epona’s saddlebags. It was a humble home in size, yet the lofty ceiling impressed me. On the walls in the dining area were various weapons and shields hung on simply crafted display racks—more of Link’s spoils. The kitchen occupied one side of the space. A small sofa looked towards the fireplace on the far side of the room. Stairs to the right led up to a lofted area. Link slipped through the door behind me and lit a lamp on the wall.

“This is lovely,” I said. I wasn’t sure what I expected from the house of Link, a bachelor knight of Hyrule, but it was certainly a lot nicer than what I imagined many of the knights had in the barracks. “Is this the same home your family once owned? Your father’s?”

Link froze mid-movement as he packed fruits away into the cold storage below the stairs. “I…. I’m not sure,” he said very quietly.

“Oh…” I realized I may have struck a weak point in Link’s memory. I remembered Link’s father, a knight of the royal guard for my father, originally hailing from this village before moving to Castle Town. I wondered… Did Link even remember his own family? 

My thoughts drifted to my own family. My mother, who passed away of sudden illness when I was seven, and then my father who cared so much for Hyrule and always pushed for me to train… Regret of leaving him under bad terms and never reconciling before he was killed by the calamity clawed at my soul. 

Link stepped over to me and the floorboards creaked under his steps. “I’ll start the fireplace,” he said, then he put a hand to his head. “Oh, I am such a bad host. I do have tea somewhere, I think, from Gerudo Town...”

His fretting flattered me, though I was just glad to be in a peaceful place away from the castle now. Link started up a fire in no time which warmed the house to a cozy temperature.The patter of rain on the roof above us signaled a shower had blanketed over the area. I sat at the table while he warmed a kettle and watched him as he gathered up ingredients to presumably cook later. I’d never seen him be so… domestic before. It amused me.

Once the kettle whistled, he poured us each a cup of tea. He handed me the ceramic cup. “Your Highness…” He said.

I took the cup. “Link, there is no need for such formality with me. In the past, we hardly used them with each other outside of the castle, and there is no Kingdom of Hyrule at the moment, anyways. Please, just call me Zelda,” I said.

He stared at me and raised an eyebrow. I wondered if I had somehow offended him as I wasn’t used to his new expressiveness. Finally, he spoke. “As you wish… Zelda,” he said. He grinned when he said my name, as if the word was sweet on his tongue.

I felt a hard beat in my chest that I hadn’t felt in… quite a long time. 

We sipped our tea quietly for a few minutes, listening to the rain hit the terracotta roof above. I was unsure what to speak about with Link. The horrors of fighting the Calamity were so fresh in our minds, I’m sure neither of us wished to discuss it. Link seemed content to lean back in his chair, and listen to the rain, as if the sound grounded him to the moment.

It wasn’t long before I once again felt the pull of exhaustion on my eyes and my head nodded. Link stepped up into the loft above for a few minutes. When he returned, he held out a hand for me. “If you would like to head to sleep, I just put new blankets on my bed. It’s all yours while you’re a guest here. I can take the sofa down here.”

I let out a nervous laugh. “I apologize. I know it is still early to retire for the night, I just…” 

“Nonsense, you haven’t slept for the last hundred years.” 

Link beckoned with his fingers and I accepted his hand. He led me up into the loft. It was small, only large enough for a small bookshelf, a desk, and a single-sized bed in the corner of the room. He rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. “It’s uh... not fancy, and probably not anything like your old bed at the castle but… I always found it comfortable enough on nights when I was able to sleep here.”

“It’ll be perfectly suitable, Link, thank you,” I said as I pulled back the quilt.

He nodded before going back to the stairs. “Sleep for as long as you need. Whenever you’re hungry, I’ll be glad to cook something for you. Good night, Zelda.”

I nodded in gratitude as he stepped down out of the loft. I wrapped myself in the comfortable blankets, and quickly fell asleep as exhaustion once again took its hold on me.

-

I must have slept through the evening and the entire night, because when I awoke again, early morning sunlight spilled into the window. I sat up, disoriented by the unfamiliar walls, and blinked a few times before I remembered I was in Link’s house. My stomach growled for the first time since I sealed Ganon.

The whoosh of a sword splitting the air outside caught my attention. I crawled to peer out the window by the bed and looked down below. Link was outside already, practicing his swings. I smiled as I watched him. One thing that hadn’t changed was his dedication to routine training. His style was different though: rougher than before. He raised the Master Sword in a slow arc around his head, until he faltered to the side. I tightened my lips in concern. It had to be the injury on his arm. I decided to go down to see him.

Sparkling drips of water fell from the eaves above as I emerged from the cottage. I looked across the bridge towards the village beyond. Children played as adults whistled, carrying goods on their shoulders. It was such a lovely, peaceful town, completely untouched by the calamity. 

I shifted my gaze back to Link, who hadn’t noticed me yet. The villagers had welcomed him here so warmly. Who wouldn’t want to live the rest of their life in peace here? 

I was the tie keeping him away from such a peaceful future. As long as he was with me, he would follow me into political situations, battles, or anything else that came with being involved with the Royal Family. It was not a passive lifestyle.

My heart ached for the suffering Link had gone through. His scars were only the tip of the pain he’d endured. I couldn’t force his duty upon him any longer, after his incredible service to Hyrule.

“Good morning, Zelda.” He’d finally noticed me. I stepped over to him as he wiped a bead of sweat from his brow. 

“Good morning, Link.”

“Did you sleep well?” he asked.

I nodded. “I do feel much better than yesterday.”

He sheathed his sword and placed his hands on his hips as he smiled at me. I had no idea where he picked up that stance after his restoration but it amused me. “I’m going to clean myself up inside, but how does breakfast sound?”

“Excellent. I do feel hungry now,” I said. When he moved towards me, I noticed dark circles under his eyes. “Didn’t you sleep at all last night?”

He hesitated. “Yes.” It was a short answer.

“...Link?”

“Yes, Zelda?” He said again, and stopped to turn to me.

I folded my hands as I considered how to put my words together. “Seeing this lovely little village, I wouldn’t be surprised if you wanted to stay here for the rest of your days to live peacefully. I… I want you to...not feel pressured to continue as my Appointed Knight now that our sacred mission is over. You have given Hyrule incredible service. I want it to be clear that you are released of your duty, if you wish.”

He stared at me, speechless, as an incredulous look appeared on his face. A songbird fluttered overhead and landed on the roof above us. Then, he laughed as if I had told an incredibly funny joke, holding a hand to his face. He stepped closer to me and placed his hand on my shoulder. “Princess, I’m not leaving you any time soon. Wherever you go, I will be by your side, for as long as you allow.”

I blinked, not expecting him to refuse my offer. “But…?”

He grinned. “If memory serves me right, you’re my friend… I can’t just leave you now when you still need so much help, especially after I went and died for you once already.” He patted my shoulder and then re-entered the house.

My eyes dropped to the ground and I laughed to myself as my cheeks warmed. How silly of me to think my friend would ever leave me alone. 

-

We decided to visit Purah’s lab after breakfast. Link had changed out of his dirtied champion tunic into a Hylian styled red tunic with leather braces and armor. When I complimented his new outfit, he beamed. I still wasn’t used to his new expanded range of expressions.

 We reached the center of town when Link told me to wait outside one of the shops for a minute because he wanted to surprise me with something. I’d taken the sheikah slate from him and was playing with its camera feature as I waited. Link soon re-emerged from the shop and handed me something. “What’s this?” I asked as I belted the slate and took it from him.

“It’s a hood. I have one too in the house. It’s good for traveling,” he said. I unfolded the hood. It had a pattern on it that resembled a flower. He rubbed the back of his head. “I thought you’d like that design better than the one I have, since you really like flowers—if I remember right.”

I smiled. It was a lovely gift, and the Goddesses knew I needed new clothes since mine probably all burned up in the castle. “Thank you, Link,” I said as I threw it over my shoulders. My long hair caught up in it a little bit but it still fit. I twirled around, feeling like a schoolgirl showing off her new outfit. “How do I look?”

Link smiled. “Great!”

We continued up the hill until we reached a curious looking building: the Hateno Ancient Tech lab. I frowned as I recalled the violent destruction of the Royal Ancient Tech lab. Thank the Goddesses that Robbie and Purah made it out alive and were able to migrate their work to safe locations...

Link was about to knock on the door when he turned to me. “Oh, I should probably tell you…”

Whatever he was about to say was cut off by the door flying open. “LINKY!!!” A child’s voice trilled. “I KNEW YOU WOULD DO IT!”

A small girl rushed into Link’s legs, embracing them tightly as she squealed. I tilted my head in confusion. The child had the signature hair of a Sheikah, and even wore their traditional clothing—though sized down considerably. But it was her red glasses and hair accessory that gave her identity away to me. I could never forget her signature style... but why was she—?

The child noticed me and gasped. “P-Princess Zelda!? You’ve come too?” She turned her head back to Link. “She looks so weak. Linky, aren’t you taking good care of her?”

Link’s cheeks reddened in embarrassment at her chiding. I was fairly certain I was not mistaken by the child’s identity now. “Purah? Is that… you?”

She grinned. “Yup, it’s me. I guess I have to explain it to you now. Come on in and let’s catch up! Click, snap!”

We entered the lab and I was introduced to Symin, Purah’s current assistant, before she sat us down at the table. She snatched the sheikah slate away and placed it on the Guidance Stone nearby, stating she had an update for it. As it loaded, she informed me about why she had reverted to a child-like form, and how she’d been continuing research over the last hundred years. I glanced around the lab and my eyes drifted to her shelves of books about ancient civilizations and sheikah technology: my past passion. She noticed my attention drifting to the shelves and laughed. “Princess, you’re welcome to come study here any time you’d like.”

When the slate’s update was complete, she handed it back to me. “I’ve created a feature where you can check the operational status of the Divine Beasts in real time, remotely. It should make studying their efficiency much easier.” 

“Thank you Purah, this will be incredibly helpful in managing them,” I said, tapping the screen to view the new functionality. Link poked his head over my shoulder in curiosity. All of the Divine Beasts were currently functioning at full capacity, though their most powerful lasers were still recharging from blasting Calamity Ganon a few days ago.

“Fascinating,” Link commented.

We chatted a little longer about our current plans and the Sheikah’s order to begin clearing out the castle. I instructed Purah and Symin to continue their research, as there was still much to learn about the ancient technology and how we could prevent it from being corrupted by malice again. We left the lab, and I continued to fiddle around with the slate.

“You’ve missed tinkering,” said Link as we walked through the village.

I nodded before I opened up the camera feature again and snapped a few pictures of some textiles on display outside the clothing shop. We passed beneath  a shrine looming on the cliff above, and I snapped a photo of it.

“I should show you the inside of one of those shrines sometime,” said Link.

I gasped. “You would take me?”

He nodded. “Only once you’ve recovered, of course, and as long as there aren’t any guardians inside.”

I smiled at him and felt more motivated than ever to regain my strength. I placed the Sheikah Slate at my hip once more. Only much later would I notice a cloaked figure peering at us from behind the shrine that I’d captured in the photograph.

[fletchphoenix]

What I’ve Been Looking For

Hey Gamers! Here’s Chapter 8 of the Varigo Coffee Shop AU and I’m gonna be honest - I think this is my favourite chapter yet! It’s certainly the longest so I hope you all enjoy it as much as I did!! Thank you for your support and ON WITH THE CHAPTER!

Word Count - 4853

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

A week had passed and it was finally Christmas - aka Hugo’s least favourite day of the year. Passing through his lips was a groan as he turned to his side on his bed, which was only a few bad days away from giving up on him completely. He felt around on the bedside table for his glasses, placing them on his face and laying back again, his head resting against the moss green pillows. Picking his phone up, he smiled at his phone screen - a photo of Varian at the library which was almost completely covered by the wall of text messages from said boyfriend. He let out a small sigh - his boyfriend absolutely adored Christmas, but...he didn’t get the appeal.

  At the orphanage, Christmas wasn’t really celebrated at all, it being far too expensive to buy presents for all the kids there. The only real indication he’d had that it was the streets being decorated by a ridiculous amount of lights, a giant pine tree placed in the centre of town with a mass of baubles scattered amongst the branches. Ever after he’d left, living on the streets for a while and after Donella took him in, she’d never been caring enough to celebrate the holiday. In her eyes, it was a ‘useless, excessively capitalised holiday used to manipulate the poor into spending a mass of money at one time’ and ‘a waste of money’. It wasn’t that he didn’t agree, the holiday was vastly overrated and had turned into a way to swindle money from the poor, manipulating the true meaning, but it wouldn’t hurt to get him a gift one year. It could’ve been a small one or something work-related, he wouldn’t have minded, but he never got one. 

  But that was the kind of woman Donella was, always cold and unfeeling towards everyone, including her son. Kind of. Did she even see him as her son? I mean-he’d always seen her as a mother to him, since she was the one to take him in, give him a home and a purpose...but that was because, in her eyes, he was a valuable asset. She’d only taken care of him, because she could get money from his skills. He knew that - she’d always been transparent about that fact with him - but there were plenty of instances where she’d contradicted herself. Where she’d actually cared. For example, when she’d brought him his jacket.

  She’d initially shoved it into his chest, wrapped in a plastic bag with her usual scowl and folded arms greeting him as his eyes met hers in confusion. Her grey hair was perfectly kept, behind her back in a braid which left the scar on her chin on full display as it jolted up towards her lip. She’d never told him how she’d got it, but he had his theories. One of his most outlandish scenarios was trying to trap her old research partner in a magical library, her partner using magic and a knife to scar the skin (11-year-old him had a wild imagination, okay?). Her sickly green eyes held annoyance in every last nook and cranny as she examined the boy in front of her’s confused expression at the package that was thrust towards his chest. “Well, aren’t you going to see what’s inside? I don’t have all day to be standing around waiting for you, Hugo.”

  “Yes ma’am.” He replied hastily, hands fumbling as he unwrapped the bag and took out the cargo. It was a green jacket, a grey hood at the top of it. He raised it to his eyes and tilted his head quietly. It was a little bit, but he’d grow into it. The second thing he’d noticed was that it was really, really soft, like..absolutely amazingly soft. Like fur! He pulled the jacket’s sleeves over his arms, noting how they covered his hands completely, before he rolled the sleeves up to his elbows. It was comfy - a childish grin covering his face as he looked up at his mentor, grateful for his gift.

  “Your clothes looked ratty,” she said, looking away and trying to suppress her soft smile with a hardened expression. “I got you new ones. Maybe now you’ll look even slightly presentable.” she slowly walked away, Hugo knowing her true intentions behind the present. He let out a small yet happy sigh, his hand trailing through his hair as he walked down the hall towards his workshop again. He’d have to thank her later, he noted as he pushed open the door. He guessed that all the thanks he could give would be finishing off this commission they’d been working on for the past week...that would satisfy her more than a gift or hug or anything. He hung the jacket up on a peg, sitting down on the leather stool by his desk before leaning over and getting to work. 

  Hugo sat up in bed, finally deciding to get up on this cursed day and standing. He stretched his legs and arms, walking to his desk to give Olivia her daily helping of sunflower seeds, which the mouse graciously accepted with a happy squeak. He yawned and grabbed some clothes from the closet, heading down the hall towards the bathroom for a shower, passing framed photos of him, his boyfriend and their friends along the way. They all got along just fine - them being Hugo, Varian, Nuru and Yong, however him and Nuru did have the occasional sarcastic quip aimed at each other, much to Varian’s annoyance. Despite the playful banter though, they got along well considering the short amount of time they’d known each other, with Varian always taking pictures so Hugo would have to ‘frame his memories’ and place them on the wall. It was sweet, especially how he’d exclusively picked frames that were painted green - a nice little detail that didn’t go unnoticed by Hugo. Still, it felt strange. He thought Varian’s dad had grounded him, so why was he allowed out so frequently to meet up? The thought weighed heavy in his mind, although it disappeared as he arrived at his final destination.

  Varian sat up in his bed as soon as he’d woken up, a large smile on his face as he realised the day. “It's Christmas...It’s Christmas!” He yelled as he jumped up, startling the obese cat who was sleeping quite satisfied on his legs, curled up in a ball. The cat mewled and batted at Varian’s arms in response, the teen too excited to care as he threw open his door and sprinted down the stairs. He must’ve moved at the speed of sound, because he swore it only took him a few seconds to arrive in the kitchen, where his father stood preparing some hot chocolate and pancakes. He felt out of place in his teal pyjamas, but nonetheless he still took a seat at the table. “Good morning, Dad. Hey, that smells great!”

  “Good morning to you too, son. And thank you.” he replied, placing the pancakes on a plate, picking it up in one hand and the hot chocolate in the other before setting it in front of his son. Varian wasted no time, swallowing it all down so fast, Quirin could’ve sworn he’d just inhaled the things. Chuckling at the thought, he moved and sat down beside his son. “So, we’re stopping off at Rapunzel’s for Christmas dinner aren’t we?” A nod of confirmation came from his son, who was sipping his hot chocolate. “Okay, will we be picking up your boyfriend on the way?”

  Varian spat his hot chocolate out in shock at his father’s latter question. What? How did he know about Hugo? He’d never told him about the other boy before...maybe Rapunzel had told his father? No, she wouldn’t do that to him. Eugene? He scrapped that thought as soon as it came. Those two would never do that to him...would they? “No Varian. You need to trust them.” his inner voice reminded him. He composed himself as his eyes met his dad’s, who was quite obviously holding back his laughter. “I...how do you..know about him?”

  “Remember the night I grounded you? Last thursday? Yeah, that's how I know.” He explained nonchalantly, leaning back in his chair and sipping his hot chocolate quietly. “I went upstairs with the intent to apologise and saw you two fast asleep and cuddling. You both looked so peaceful that I didn’t want to intrude on your moment, so I left you be and wanted to wait until you were ready to tell me.” He suddenly leaned forward, taking his son’s hands in his own with a serious expression on his face. “Son, you know I love you no matter who you’re attracted to, whether it be boys or girls. You’re still my son and I love you unconditionally. So will your Aunt Adira and Uncle Hector. And we’ll support you no matter what. Although...it would have been nice to have a formal introduction with the boy, he seems very nice.”

  A smile crept onto Varian’s face as he rose to his feet, moving around the titular table to embrace his father. “Thank you so much, dad. And yes, we will have to pick him up. I want him to celebrate Christmas - it’ll be his first time celebrating too, which makes it even more special!” he paused. “I’ll let you know where his apartment is. I have a present that I...desperately wanna give him.”

  “Speaking of presents..” Quirin began, rising from his chair to look down at his son. “I haven’t given you yours yet. So, follow me.” He declared, leading the way towards the basement door. They hadn’t been down there since his mother left - it used to be her old workspace for anything science related. Varian used to love going down there and watching as Ulla would experiment, combining different elements in processes he didn’t even understand. Their son would watch in wonder as, with one ribbon of metal being added, an acid would change colour, and he’d cheer so loud with the biggest smile on his face whenever Ulla let him act as her ‘lab assistant’ and let him perform his own experiments (supervised, of course). 

  He did miss the woman and her presence in the house. She brought so much joy to everything she passed, making even the worst of days become one of the best. It was because of her that they even celebrated Christmas, her introducing the holiday to him and the various traditions that came along with it. She really was a loving and caring woman in every way there possibly was - Varian taking after her in that department. She’d sing to their son to help him sleep as a newborn and sit by his crib all night in case he woke up in the night and needed her for anything. But they never saw the stress wearing her down, causing her to become more and more confrontational as the days went on. Hell, the divorce came out of nowhere, Ulla one day stating that she wanted one and was leaving. Nonetheless, Quirin had supported her and let her go, because she was the woman he loved. If that’s what she wanted then fine, he’d let her leave. He bit the inside on his cheek. No time to think of that - it was Christmas and by god, he was gonna enjoy himself.

  The door to the basement opened and Quirin gestured for his son to go down the steps before him. Varian obliged, walking down the steps that threatened to break. They’d have to get them replaced one day, he thought as he reached the floor below and flicked on the lights. He was met with the sight of a truly magnificent sight. Tables were pushed up against the walls, a wheeled office chair placed under one. Beakers and a Bunsen burner sat on the side, beside a large stack of drawers that, upon closer inspection, were labelled and filled with all the equipment he needed, such as burets, test tubes, pipettes and micropipettes...it was simply breathtaking. He travelled further around the home lab, a coat peg in the corner with a single, white lab coat hanging from it. He immediately knew it was his mother’s from the small blue patch on the elbow of the left sleeve - a hole caused by 7-year-old him accidentally changing the Bunsen burner from the safety flame to the blue flame, his mom lunging over it to stop him from burning himself. After that, he was terrified of the burner for years after that. 

  “Dad, this is...this is amazing!” he gasped, running over and giving him a tight hug. “Wow! I love it so much!” he cried as he moved away and excitedly explored the room even more. Pulling on the lab coat, he flattened the creases of the lab coat. A perfect fit, he thought, before he turned to his dad with a smile. “How is it? Do I look alright?”

  “You look great son, but go upstairs and get dressed. We need to pick up your boyfriend and drive over to Rapunzel and Eugene’s house, okay?” He commented, watching his son’s excitement as he placed the lab coat back on the bed and sprinted upstairs. Quirin’s gaze drifted to the lab coat. He looked just like his mother in that lab coat, it was almost uncanny. He always thought about her this time of year and how much different life was without Ulla’s constant presence in the house. Nevermind,he muttered as he walked to the stairs, flicking off the lights and travelling up the stairs. It was in the past. Now, time to prepare himself to meet his son’s boyfriend.

  Hugo sat on the couch, his arms folded and pouting. There was nothing on but stupid goddamn Christmas movies! He hated them! All they did was brag that they had everything he didn’t have, like a family or gifts..it sucked. He especially hated them as a kid, wishing every year that he’d get adopted and have that one day. He’d always imagined his mom being a tall, gentle woman, who’d pick him up and put him on the counter if he’d fallen over while playing, placing a gentle kiss to his wounds before covering them with a bandaid, giving him a hug and sending him off to play. He’d also imagined his dad - a stern, blonde haired man with a soft side, who would always make time for him and show him what he did for work. They’d have good paying jobs too - his dad being a mechanic for some high-class company and his mom being a nurse. He’d had it all planned out. Especially Christmas, where he’d run down the stairs to be greeted with the sight of endless towers of presents, hugging and kissing his parents on the cheek after each one. Instead, he’d been ‘blessed’ with Donella, who couldn’t care less about him or Christmas. No parents, no luxury life, no Christmas. She snuffed out his dream on the final one really quick, being the one to tell him Santa wasn’t real (even though he already knew that, but the confirmation hurt).

  He was so lost in thought that he almost missed the sound of frantic knocking at the door to his apartment. “Who the hell is that?” he muttered under his breath as he sauntered down the hall. He ran his hands over his clothes, trying to flatten any creases that might be seen before opening the door. Varian stood, his hand raised as though he was about to knock the door again, with a goliath of a man behind him, causing Hugo to swallow thickly. Oh fuck was that man large. He could probably snap Hugo in half over his knee if he felt like it. ‘Please don’t call him dad, please don’t call him dad…’ Hugo found himself praying.

  “Hugh!” his boyfriend cried as he lunged forward and wrapped his arms round the blonde’s neck, who was still in shock at the sight of the man accompanying the titular teen. “Dad, this is my boyfriend, Hugo! Hugo, this is my dad!” he explained. Brilliant. Now he knew if he ever broke up with Varian (“Pfft, as if that’s gonna happen.” his inner voice reminded him, yet again butting in rudely.), he’d be assured a quick death at the hands of this titan of a man crushing his skull.

  “It's a uh-a pleasure to finally meet you, sir.” he finally stuttered out, trying to uphold his usual relaxed attitude, however judging by the crack in his voice, he’d failed miserably. He held out his hand, the older man exchanging his greeting and virtually concealing Hugo’s hand in his own, it being barely visible as it was shaken before being mercifully let go. “Why are you two here, by the way. In like-the politest way possible.”

  “You’re spending Christmas with us! Speaking of which, we’re meant to be at my sister’s like-right now! So! Let’s go!” he grabbed his boyfriend’s arm, only giving him enough time to grasp his coat, which had Varian’s present concealed in it, and scarf before pulling him out of the apartment and down the stairwell to the street below. Hugo listened to Varian’s rambling about their christmas traditions which didn’t seem to stop even as they got to the car and were heading towards Rapunzel and Fitzherbert’s house. Speaking of which, he’d never seen it, the only conversation he’d had with them being the...rather awkward one the day he’d asked Varian out. What a wild day that had been...it felt like forever ago, if he was being honest. It didn’t seem real that they were together at all. He gave the raven haired boy’s hand a gentle squeeze, his thumb rubbing circles into the back of his hand with a smile tugging at his lips again. He really was helpless for this boy.

  The car came to a halt outside a small cottage, very different to the one he had imagined the couple would live in. It was a surprise, albeit a pleasant one - what, a cottage out here in the middle of the countryside seemed like the best place to settle down. He just couldn’t believe someone like Fitzherbert would’ve settled for that. It admittedly looked kind of cute though, lights hung from the roof carefully and around the gate. Varian, however, gave him no time to admire the beauty of the cottage, grabbing his hand and pulling him through the white-painted fence and rushing up the steps before opening the front door. “We’re here, guys!” he declared and almost immediately they were swarmed by a mass of people.

  The only four people he’d noticed were Rapunzel, Eugene, Cassandra and Irene, pulling them into hugs and exchanging Christmas greetings with each other. The other three he’d recognised as Kiera, Catalina and Lance from all of the stories Varian would tell him randomly during their dates, such as how Lance had adopted them after they were orphaned (“Lucky kids.” Hugo had muttered to himself bitterly before turning away and staring out the window again). Hugo winced and grimaced at the exchanges, awkwardly returning them before heading towards where he thought the living room was. 

  Luckily, he was right, and he moved quickly to sit on the couch, immediately cringing at the sight of an excessively decorated and obviously fake Christmas tree sitting against the wall with a mass of presents underneath it. More reminders of the things he’d lacked all his life, he thought bitterly, before a warmth beside him broke him out of his thoughts. Varian cuddled into his boyfriend’s side, kissing his cheek gently with a soft, loving smile on his face. “Hey there, sweetheart..you enjoying yourself?” he asked, an eyebrow raised.

  “Yeah, definitely. Don’t you worry your pretty little head over it.” he lied over his teeth, praying his boyfriend didn’t notice his discomfort. It must’ve been his lucky day as, other than a concerned noise, Varian seemed to take this answer as gospel and just cuddled into his side further. Hugo thrived in their moment of peace amongst the madness of Christmas, almost like the week before where they sat in the park at almost midnight just cuddling on the park bench. This only lasted a moment, however, as Rapunzel called them all in for dinner as she placed various dishes onto the table. 

  Everyone crowded around it, Varian holding Hugo’s hand under the table as they sat side by side (the fact that Varian was left handed helped tremendously, considering Hugo was right handed and both could hold each other’s less dominant hand) with a shy smile on his face as he, once again, answered the numerous questions on how they met. All the while, Hugo sat uncomfortably. It was all too much for him - the family, the food, the absolute love...he couldn’t take him. “Give me a minute.” he muttered as he let go of Varian’s hand, standing up and excusing himself. Hurriedly, he left the room and sat outside on the steps up to the house. 

  He didn’t get it. How did he deserve any of this? He was a bad person and didn’t see how someone like Varian could look at him and think that he warranted any of this. He was a thief and a liar and messed up everything good in his life. Varian would realise that one day and leave him, just like everyone else in his life did. He didn’t want to admit it but..he knew he wasn’t good enough for someone like Varian. Someone so sweet despite everything he did in his past - someone so forgiving...he didn’t deserve that. The door opened behind him, quickly shutting before footsteps stopped beside him and none other than Fitzherbert sat down beside him. “What. You come to laugh at me or something?”

  “Nope. I don’t know why you’d think that.” Fitzherbert commented, looking at the troubled teen and sighing, seeing himself in the boy. He took a deep breath and looked directly ahead as he continued to talk. “I know how you’re feeling. I was an orphan too. You feel as though you don’t belong - like you don’t deserve any of this and you never will. But you do, Hugo. I know I don’t really know you that well, but I’ve been in your boat before and I know Varian well enough to know he adores you. Varian thinks the world of you and looks as though you put the stars in the sky. I’m not trying to invalidate your feelings - you deserve to feel however you want and that's okay, but you need to know that we all care about you so much and...for the record, Rapunzel was really excited to meet you again. Just letting you know, she literally texted Varian asking everything about you like your favourite flavours, colors..hell, even smells!” He let out a laugh, and so did Hugo, albeit a little weak. “You don’t have to come back in..but you can if you want.”

  Hugo bit the inside of his cheek before leaning and resting his head on Eugene’s arm, letting the older man put his arm around him before bringing him into a long embrace. One that he didn’t know he needed, especially from someone like Eugene. He let out a breathy chuckle before standing up with Eugene, making their way inside and sitting beside his boyfriend again. Varian gave him a concerned look, Hugo nodding in reassurance and raising his boyfriend’s hand to his lips, kissing the back of his hand before they smiled and continued to eat.

  As soon as dinner was over, Hugo found himself sitting down beside Varian on the couch yet again as the others exchanged presents. Eugene had got Rapunzel a purple frying pan (he didn’t question why, the woman seemed eccentric enough to adore the gift, gifting her boyfriend with a mass of kisses), Rapunzel bought Eugene a small ring to match her engagement ring, Irene gave Cassandra a leather jacket and Cassandra gave Irene a pink helmet to wear on the motorbike, Lance got the girls MANY presents that Hugo didn’t have the energy to remember. And that left him and Varian to exchange gifts.

  Carefully they both took out their boxes for each other, trading them and opening them at the same time. Both gasped when they saw they’d both bought each other a pair of goggles! Hugo gazed at the goggles Varian had bought for him. They were circular - big enough to fit over his glasses - with orange lenses and spikes around the rim, being painted grey all over. A leather strap connected them at the back, him placing them round his neck. Varian, on the other hand, stared at his in disbelief. A small, extra magnifier was attached to the left eye of the goggles, the rims painted bronze and gold with clear, colourless lenses. They were perfect, he silently decided, leaning in closer to Hugo to place a gentle kiss to his jaw.

  “These are perfect, Hugo..I..thank you so much!” he said with love and affection dripping through his words as he put the goggles on top of his head, his hands drifting to the vial around his neck and fiddling with it. It illuminated, shining a soft light across his chest and hands as he gazed down at it in wonder. He looked up at the blonde again, who looked at him with the utmost affection and a dorkish smile on his face. “Anyway, we should be heading back. It’s kinda late and I need my beauty sleep!” he joked, standing and pulling Hugo and Quirin along with him. They bid their farewells, Rapunzel extremely reluctant to let Hugo leave as she hadn’t learnt absolutely everything about him, but she let them leave after a while. They all got into the car and drove back towards Hugo’s apartment complex.

  After Hugo left the car, Varian walked beside him hand in hand up to his apartment. “Hey, look at this.” Varian said as they got to the door, bringing a piece of branch out of his pocket and raising it above his head. He raised an eyebrow in confusion, looking down at his boyfriend who quickly elaborated. “It’s mistletoe so you have to kiss me!” he declared, raising himself onto his tiptoes and puckering his lips. His eyes shut and Hugo’s face took on a grin, leaning down to kiss the boy in a long, sweet kiss, pouring every bit of affection they had for each other into it. 

  The kiss eventually broke and Varian headed down the hall and away from Hugo for the night, the blonde sighing. He pushed open the door, however it stopped part way due to a weight in front of the door. “Huh? Weird.” he muttered, sliding in through the thin gap between the door as his eyes met a package at the door. It was green and moderately large and, after Hugo had kicked the door shut, he crouched down and reached out to read the tag on the box. 

  ‘Merry Christmas - Donella’

  Huh. That was weird. Donella ACTUALLY getting him a Christmas gift? That was unheard of in his world up until now, but he still picked it up and carried it into the living room before placing it on the glass coffee table. He slowly untied the bow and raised the lid, noticing what was inside the box. It was a new laptop - one he had been working to try and get for months now. He didn’t think she’d actually listened to him when he talked to her about it. “Well, that’s a welcome surprise.” he whispered under his breath, lifting it out to see something else tucked at the bottom of the box. Setting the laptop aside, he raised it to see another jacket - this one he immediately recognised. She’d worn it all the time when he was younger and he’d always loved it, but now..she was actually giving it to him. 

  This one was a dark green with a few gold and grey accents across it, the crest of her company embroidered onto the arm only as big as his thumb. He smiled happily, his fingers tracing over the material as he carried both the laptop and the jacket upstairs to his room. He’d always loved the jacket, and usually Donella was overly possessive about her property, so the fact that she was willingly giving it up for him...it was a large statement for a woman like her. 

  He pushed open the door and placed the two items onto his desk, changing into his pyjamas and laying down on his bed. He took off his glasses and set them aside onto his bedside table, moving to hug his pillow close to his chest and imagining it was his boyfriend. He’d have to thank them both for their gifts when he had the time.

  “Y’know...maybe Christmas isn’t so bad after all.” he whispered to himself before letting himself fall asleep, a smile still plastered on his face.

[hollyhomburg]

Call me yours (pt. 5)

(Ot7 x Reader) (Hybrid Au!) (Blind! Reader)

Summary: You never would have imagined that more love was hidden right next door, just over your garden fence. but will you and Hoseok ever get there? will you ever have your first date? 

Pairings: (Human! Hoseok) x (Human! Reader) x (Wolf hybrid! Namjoon) x (Dog hybrid! Seokjin) x (Cat hybrid! Yoongi) x (Tiger hybrid! Taehyung) x (Bunny hybrid! Jungkook) x (Cat hybrid! Jimin)

W/c: 6.0k

Tags/Warnings: LITERALLY every bit of this is wholesome fluff, no angst at all here.

- To say that Jimin and Yoongi have gotten close over the past few weeks would be an understatement. Jimin is the first thing on Yoongi’s mind when he wakes up and the opposite is also true. though Yoongi for whatever reason- is usually the more nocturnal one, so Jimin usually heads over in the early morning to slip into Yoongi’s bed in the upstairs, or wait in the kitchen starting the morning coffee and bringing it to all of you in bed.

- it’s not that he’s not like- comfortable slipping in between you and Yoongi on your too-small-for-4-hybrids bed, it’s just that there are some invisible lines that they’re just not comfortable breaching yet. Jimin sighs while he makes the coffee and thinks about it. Hoseok needs to ask you out already so that they can stop pretending that they’re not all building their lives into one another.  

- You’re the only one usually stirring when he heads in on those mornings.  It’s exceedingly sweet- especially the first time it happens and you pop your head up from where it was buried in Yoongi’s chest, Namjoon and Seokjin curled into their little puppy pile of cuddles to the side, your hair all ruffled making Jimin coo and smooth it down. asking softly if you’d like some coffee, kissing you on your forehead as he whispers good morning so as to not wake the others up.

- Jimin at least has no problem being affectionate with you, really Hoseok needs to take notes one of these days. though really, it’s not that hoseok has problems being affectionate just being affectionate while makeing his intent known. but then again jimin could probably give him tips on that too since he’s recently taken up the task of letting everyone know just how much he apreciates them, often vocally, with many purrs and alot of scentmarking to physically reinforce his point.  

- Yoongi grumbles and pulls you more firmly against him before he realizes Jimin is there, grumbling without opening his eyes, “5 more minutes Seokjin-Hyung, it’s my turn to snuggle her” Jimin giggles before he presses a warm cup in between your fingers. You hear him set a second one for Yoongi on the bedside table.

- You sip at it gratefully, suddenly quirking your head to the side, “what did you put in this?” Jimin shrugs, you feel the edge of the bed dip. “I couldn’t find your sugar so I used maple syrup like Hobi does,”

- “Hoseok uses maple syrup instead of sugar?” you ask, somehow way too endeared to learn this little fact about him- because of course, Hoseok (with his syrupy sweet soul) would like something like this.

- The first time Jimin surprises Yoongi with a pounce, Yoongi’s resounding yowl makes Namjoon and Jungkook almost cry laughing. Especially when they go over to the side of the house and witness Yoongi’s dazed expression as Jimin straddles him. The watering can he was using to water the catnip they’d planted on the side of the house discarded in the grass. To see him Still pinned, happily being groomed by Jimin, his purs rippling as he licked and licked and licked, and promptly erupted with laughter.

- “Someone’s got a crush,” Namjoon says when he wanders into the kitchen one afternoon in late July and runs a hand through Yoongi’s hair- all splayed and rumpled and sticking up from where Jimin had groomed him again, it’s definitely becoming a daily habit.

- Yoongi’s resulting blush makes Namjoon cackle and teases more, gripping the younger by the shoulders and giggly swaying side to side, miming a wedding march and punctuating each twirl with a whip crack. He’s a little more goofy than usual, The strange behavior might have something to do with the fact that Namjoon had just woken up from yet another sunny nap with Jungkook in the garden, he’s a little heat hazy. “You’ve been spending too much in the sun, and all that soil is gonna rot your brain.”

- “Doesn’t change that Yoongi likes Jiminie.” He says in a singsong voice his giggle deep and adorable.  

- “Oh go find somewhere dark and grow some moss you gossipy asshole.”

- Seokjin snorts from where he reads a book at the table. “Yeah Joonie, you’re one to talk with Jungkook trailing after you like that,” Namjoon freezes. “Wait-what? What do you mean?” he’s blushing from his feet to his ears. Yoongi sends Seokjin a small grin that makes his heart thrum a little harder. Seokjin reaches out absently passing a hand over Yoongi’s side. Making him shiver in the best way.

- “I don’t think he comes over here every day for the carrots Namjoon,” Seokjin comments wryly.  Namjoon looks nearly contrite until the bunny hybrid in question bounds into the kitchen almost tripping over the rug like he does nearly every time, half falling into the kitchen. Yoongi catches him with a well-placed arm.

- “Kid you gotta watch it!” Jungkook’s wide smile with his teeth gnawing at his lower lip is so cute that it just might make all of them blush, and let him get away with being barely contrite. A glance around the room solidifies that yes- they’re definitely all blushing and crushing over the sparkly, wide-eyed, floppy eared glory of Jungkook. 

- “Oh thanks Hyung! I finished twining up the honeysuckle and deadheading the lavender? Is the hydrangea next Hyung?” a faint blush colors his cheeks, barely brushing the tops of his cheekbones as he looks at Namjoon. “Yes, kooky- I’ll be out in a second.” 

- “Do you want something to drink Kookie?” Seokjin asks. because as much as he knows they love working out in the sun all day Seokjin can’t help but look after them and make sure they’re just as watered as the garden. Kooky nods happily, and asks hopefully “Do you have carrot juice?” 

- Seokjin barely contains his smile as he sets Jungkook up. Seokjin had made sure he picked some up from the store last week solely because of Jungkook. The three hybrids watch as Jungkook downs the whole thing in one big gulp, eyebrows raising. Blacktopped tail twitching from side to side and showing the white underside before he places it on the counter (remembering not to slam it- a lesson when he’d accidentally shattered one of their cups last week)

- He nuzzles into Seokjin’s shoulder as he says, “thanks Hyung!” then pulls Namjoon outside. The entire exchange of juice takes about 30 seconds. And leaves Seokjin feeling all kinds of gooey and fond affection. He has to steady himself against the counter. “Jesus” Seokjin comments to no one, holding his heart and shaking his head. Yoongi snickers. 

- “Yoon” comes a crooning voice that can only be Jimin, making Yoongi flush and crumple. “Oh my god just go” Seokjin pushes his hip, “leave all of your flirting out of my kitchen, I just want to relax- oh my god.” And Yoongi heads out of the kitchen looking like he’s about to brave a typhoon- his tail flicking back and forth alert the whole time (though he does go willingly- that fact makes Seokjin externally smile, and internally feel a little smug)

- “Jinnie?” You call from inside the house, Seokjin smiles softly, putting his book down and setting his thick-rimmed glasses to the side, “in the kitchen love.” He responds you follow the sound of his voice, finding your way to hug him from the side. 

- Settling into the comfort of his arms. His face pressed into your stomach, arms loosely wound around your side. Relaxing into The of your oldest lover, nothing feels quite so calming, or quite so comforting as Seokjin. 

- Seokjin hums against your stomach, moving his neck a little bit to scent mark you. An old habit, and a little futile because you smell like a mess of all of them now. Though with a sniff- he realizes (with no small bit of pride) you do smell like him the most.

- “What’s going on in Jinnie world?” you ask, running a hand through his hair to scratch behind his ear. It’s a little bleach fried, last month Jimin and Yoongi had ganged up on him and convinced him to dye his hair. And though you knew it was some “awesome” shade from the amount that Yoongi complimented Jin. 

- You didn’t remember exactly what color it was. After you’d felt it for the first time and whined about the new texture, Seokjin had vehemently promised to never dye it again. He loves the ear pets way too much to make them even slightly unpleasant for you. 

- “Oh you know- just the impending threat of romance from a certain bunny and kitten.” or a tiger and red-headed cutie for that matter, he adds in his head but doesn't say out loud for fear of the teasing it would incur. 

- “Mm, not a kitten.” Jimin pouts from the doorway, hair all fluffed up and curly. Jimin looks extra cute in an extra-large dark blue sweater that probably belonged to Jungkook at one point (it has orange carrots printed all over it).

- Jimin sniffs at the air huffs a glance at Jin put upon look stepping closer to the two of you to Scent mark your shoulder and neck the purr in his chest vibrating softly. Jimin doesn’t break eye contact with Jin the whole time, as if daring him to make some comment. You flinch when he gives you a small lick to the back of your neck, exposed from your hair up in a bun. 

- “Jesus Christ,” you say, pushing at his shoulder playfully the same second Seokjin clenches around your waist, crying “go scent mark Yoongi you brat! Leave my human to me!” 

- Jimin giggles and flicks a wink at Seokjin, “not for long puppy.” he passes back through the door, down the stairs and probably back to where the hammock and probably Yoongi is (not before snatching a bag of chips from the pantry). 

- Even after his heat Jimin has been… a little flirty with all of them teases Namjoon and you almost as much as Seokjin does, and Seokjin feels a little pity that Yoongi has to bear the full force of Jimin’s brattiness like that. Then again, Yoongi probably greets it with the same begrudging enjoyment that Seokjin finds himself feeling when he sees the 6 of them together all floppy and falling over each other under the terrible weight of multiple crushes. 

- At the thought of it, Seokjin whines lowly rubbing his neck along your stomach not satisfied by how much you smell like your shampoo “Feeling possessive Jinnie?”

- “Can’t help it” he mumbles, voice thick through the growl building in his throat. grabbing your hand, hesitating a second, before he places it on his head again from where it had fallen. You oblige him with consolatory ear rubs. But it’s still not enough, jin surges’ up, standing and kissing your cheek before moving to your other one and then to your lips, you smile into the kiss as happy as you’ve ever been. and Jin flops back down once you look sufficiently blushy. 

- “Uhm” Weight creeks over the door stoop and Seokjin’s ears flick in the direction of the sound. Taehyung stands in your doorway fingers tapping on the handle. Shoulders hunched, and his curved ears bright orange and pinned back against his cinnamon-colored hair. “Hey Tae,” you say, giving the hybrid a wider than usual smile. 

- Over the past few weeks, you’ve learned that Taehyung thrives off of obvious enjoyment. Telling him you’re happy he came over or complimenting him when he helps has been amazing for his self-esteem. He’s become a lot more vocal as a result, though he’s still definitely shy in situations like this when he’s not sure if he’s 100% welcome. 

- Hoseok even thanked you for it the other day; you’ve had such a positive effect on the hybrid. He doesn’t even cling to Hoseok in the mornings when he leaves for work anymore.

- Hoseok had told you that with a hand on yours over the banister, your hands lightly entwined in the haze of the evening as you waited on the back porch. After He’d come over to retrieve Jimin who had made himself very comfortable sleeping in your upstairs bedroom. 

- Jungkook had quite literally had to carry him out, appearing in the yellow kitchen light a second after that, you see it for a moment against the light- a blob of darkness that must be Jungkook that quickly shifts. Hoseok’s hand sliding out of yours regretfully. 

- The calico cat had slept on, dead to the world with his head tipped against Jungkook’s shoulder arms loosely twined around Jungkook’s neck. Jungkook’s strong arms gripping under either of his thighs, lifting Jimin like he weighed nothing. 

- “Wait” Seokjin had said, in the doorway of the kitchen, his apron wound around his waist. Jungkook had paused and let Jin press a little kiss to Jimin’s cheek. to which Jungkook had pouted and shifted from foot to foot nervously a move probably learned from Jimin. But he doesn't even have to ask just looks up at Seokjin with his wide dark eyes and he’s already kissing him on the forehead too. “Goodnight loves” Seokjin had said, low and hushed. 

- Jungkook looked equally as reverent and put upon with affection his little cottontail twitching happily as Hoseok had chirped. “Sorry about that! He’s such a goof falling asleep everywhere.” His hand hovering a second next to yours as he said, “see you tomorrow I guess” you’d smiled, a little too happy at the thought of seeing him again. “Yeah! See you tomorrow” 

- Yoongi had stumbled down the stairs soon after. Seeking out your lap for comfort. His words slurring, “where did Minnie go?” Namjoon had tugged on his tail playfully, “he had to go home- you know to his actual bed where he actually sleeps- I swear when I read that cats sleep 18 hours a day I didn’t actually think that was true for hybrids.” 

- “Hoseok says tiger hybrids don’t sleep that long.” You had commented. All their ears perk up at that- it’s no secret you have a soft spot for the shyest hybrid next door. 

- The hybrid who is now at your door, looking down like he doesn’t know if he’s allowed in. Tae shifts from foot to foot, “I was wondering if-” his voice is small, strangled by the anxiety in his throat. “Could I help you cook today Hyung? Minnie and kooky are both hanging out with Yoongi-Hyung and Namjoon-Hyung and Hobi-Hyung won’t be back from work till 6.” 

- One thing that Hoseok had imparted to you was how unused Taehyung was to being alone and how anxious it made him. A few weeks ago, Hoseok had to call over and apologized, saying that they wouldn’t be able to make it over for dinner like usual because of Taehyung. 

- Jungkook had told you later what had happened. How Taehyung had become so touch starved and shivery and anxious that they’d all piled on top of him the whole night. He’d whined and almost burst into tears each time any of them had gotten up from the cuddle puddle.

- It’s that neediness that makes you part your arms and let Taehyung fold his large body into yours, determined to make himself as small as possible no matter that you’re still in-between Seokjin’s legs, he has to part them more to let Taehyung in. 

- Seokjin casts a glance at the clock, letting his hand trace over Taehyung’s arms where they’re wrapped around your back, he’s putting his full weight on your shoulders and all- but you don’t mind. Seokjin feels the Fondness creep up in him, he wants to coo at the way Taehyung’s ears always shake back and forth when he gets happy.

- “It’s a little early to start Taehyung if I started dinner now it would be a little cold by the time Hobi gets home.” Seokjin doesn’t let the significance of home linger but catches the way you bite your lower lip. Because the only ones who haven’t accepted that they’re all basically headed that way are you and Hoseok. 

- Taehyung looks crestfallen for a moment, “But I think we do need to go to the store to get some stuff if you’d like to accompany us- if you’re feeling up to it.” Taehyung perks up instantly and nods happily “Definitely! I can help you carry the groceries!” Seokjin definitely does not mention the fact that they don’t need enough stuff to require both Tae and Seokjin to go- but maybe Seokjin should utilize the extra help when he can get it. And he won’t burst the adorable bubble that is Kim Taehyung. 

- “We should probably leave Hobi a note,” you say, “and tell the others!” Taehyung walks to the edge of your deck and shouts- surprisingly loud after his quietness to the others. Yoongi and Jimin may not hear him- but if they wake up and head over to the garden to ask Namjoon and Kooky they’ll find out where you went.

- “A heart? Really? You want me to add a heart to the note? You know you two could just text,” Seokjin teases; when you dictate him a note to Hobi- you’ll put it on his front door. There is a little collection of likewise notes that Hobi has left on your door on sitting on the window sill, occasionally you’ll bring the small pile over to Seokjin and ask him to read them to you. As it goes- most of them are actually for Seokjin- since Hobi knows you can’t read them without the help of the others.

- Though that might change soon. The other day Jimin came over for Yoongi, Seokjin had answered the door. Jimin had barely even stopped to press a sticky note to Seokjin’s forehead, stood on his tippy toes to kiss him fully on the lips with a loud (and wet) smack.  Before he stomped up the stairs to what Jimin has started to call “the cuddle room” ie Namjoon’s/Seokjin’s old room, and where Yoongi slept whenever he wanted to stretch out like a starfish. (Taehyung shows up soon after, and also piles into the cuddle room after sleepily bumping into both the wall and Namjoon on his way up the stairs.)

- Namjoon roared with laughter until he can get enough breath to tell you what happened and then the laughter doubles. Seokjin still standing in the doorway.  Absolutely astounded at Jimin’s unending battiness, but blushing so hard that he almost wants to melt into the floor.

- Hoseok always leaves little footnotes for Seokjin too- always little tidbits or jokes, like hope you have an eggcellent day Jin-Hyung! or I’m gonna try and find some of your youtube videos on my break today, or why can’t towels tell jokes? because they have a dry sense of humor! that leave Jin grinning and laughing after he reads them.

- Even though Seokjin is often the one to receive the notes, Jimin had informed you that Hobi got a book on braille so that he can start giving you ones that you’ll actually be able to read. The little sneak- Hobi had probably meant it to be a surprise. 

- He’d picked it up from the local library on an outing with Jimin and Namjoon. And Hobi had sent you what Seokjin described as an adorable picture of Jimin and Namjoon snuggled in one of the reading nooks together. Seokjin ends up printing out that picture and adding it to the growing collection of them on the wall in the living room.  

- There are more than a few hearts on those notes; sometime Hobi will sign them with a heart instead of his name. If Seokjin could roll his eyes anymore they’d fall out of the back of his head, he doesn’t know why Hoseok doesn’t just ask you out already- they all know it’s coming. But still, you insist on tiptoeing around each other. 

- Taehyung happily takes your arm while you walk to the store, chirping and pointing out the strangest things. “I like this street because all of the doors on the houses are different colors,” and “that car has like- a billion stickers on it- and half of them are for the same sports team” Seokjin chimes in whenever possible. But sequitously drops back and takes a photo of you two, adding it to his Instagram...which is greeted by immediate fanfare. 

- It’s not like Seokjin has been really secretive about the growing change in his life or hid it from his fans, but his youtube channel has taken somewhat of a backseat recently with all of the excitement in his personal life- he’s only been making cooking videos like once or twice a week instead of nearly every day like he used to.

- He hasn’t come out and said it or alluded to why Hoseok's hybrids have started popping up here and there in his social media, or even the human himself who helped Jin try to kook blindfolded the other day. He asked you first of course, and you made a mini-competition out of it with you, Seokjin, and Hoseok cooking together and the others testing it- none too surprisingly, Seokjin still wins because you and Hoseok spend most of the time giggling and falling into each other and burn both of your pans.

- The episode finishes with you talking about your blindness, both of them leaning in and admitting how hard it must be for you. though it’s never really your intention to feel indulgent, you admit it was kind of cathartic. Seokjin and Hoseok come out of it with new a new perspective. A the moment, when you sit in between both of them and they admit how strong they think you are. 

- At the store, Taehyung sets about retrieving things for Seokjin, who barks off a list from his phone. All in all its uneventful though Seokjin does add a carton of Minnie ice-cream cones to the cart after Taehyung glances at them a few times, his ears pinned to his hair, unsure how to ask for them. He blushes and Seokjin sends him a knowing glance. later outside, Taehyung gives Seokjin a small smile that's worth everything and says, “you take care of us so well Hyung,” his smile boxy and easy, leaning into Jin so sweetly. 

- When you get home, you’re not surprised to find Hobi sitting on your back porch watching Namjoon and Jungkook throw a frisbee back and forth, occasionally sending it Hoseok's way. The gate between both of your yards is open (it’s rarely closed anymore).

- Seokjin drags you close and whispers when he spots the redheads work tangled mop sitting on your steps.  “He’s wearing his suit- I’ll have you know it looks all rumpled and cute. Ask him out before I do I swear” before he nudges you in the direction of the stairs. 

- Hobi straightens at your presence, standing in a rush; Seokjin sees that he’s holding your note. Taehyung makes to say hello to his owner but before he can Seokjin drags him back by the hood of his sweatshirt. Pressing a kiss to his cheek in response to Taehyung whines. “Why don’t you help me chop up some of the carrots for bibimbap Tae,” 

- “Thanks for taking them today,” Hobi says, taking your hand and helping you sit down against the steps next to him.   

- “It’s no trouble- I think Namjoon’s glad for the company, and Yoongi as well, I think anyway. None of us mind it at all.” And it’s true, you love the way that your house has become a meeting place for all of them, even though it does get twice as loud as usual, and sometimes it’s more difficult than usual to distance yourself and concentrate on work. 

- “How was your day?” you ask, Hobi sighs his hands through his hair, making it look even more tousled, curling against the nape of his neck in the humidity “Long, I’m just happy it’s Friday!” 

- “Oh yeah forgot it was,” 

- Hoseok pouts, pushing against your shoulder amicably “I’m still so jealous you get to work from home and make your own hours- that’s so convenient and I’m stuck going all the way into the city every single day,” 

- “Yeah it has it’s perks, I get cuddle while I work more often than not. Did you know Tae cuddled me all day yesterday? Kookie too because Namjoon had another day at the community center.” 

- “Yeah, he gushed to me about it for about an hour last night while he took a bath. speaking of cuddles”  Yoongi and Jimin walk past the two of you- probably on the way to the cuddle room now that the hammock is a little too cold, but Hoseok doesn’t let Jimin past, yowling for a moment when he pulls the cat into his lap. 

- On the other side of you, Yoongi cuddles up to your side, kissing your cheek. the sound of loud purring pervading the back steps. Eventually, the two cats detangle themselves and head upstairs. Someone (probably Tae) starts up the speaker in the kitchen to play some new kitschy pop music that spills through the open door.  

- Hoseok lets out a happy sigh and taps his foot to the beat subconsciously. Jungkook crows in delight as he makes a particularly large hop, catching the Frisbee out of the air making Namjoon jump up in down happily- a habit that he’d begun to pick up from Jungkook. 

- “You seem a little quiet today,” you comment, your hand hovering just an inch away from Hobi’s on the wooden step, you dont know that hoseok has his eyes closed and is listening to all of it. 

- The clangs from the kitchen, Jungkook’s and Namjoon’s happy yells, the music, the everything that Hoseok appreciates so much. both of you would be lying if you said that your hybrids had nothing to do with how reluctant you are to push forward with your own relationship. Thought it’s nothing that either of you would ever admit to- not even to Seokjin or Jungkook.  In the worst case scenario- if you date and then break up- it would probably break all of their hearts not only yours. 

- but hypotheicals only do so much for so long, hoseok stretches his hand out a little, his fingertips pressing against yours. For a moment he resists the urge, he’s loathed to damage the peace here, but then you give his had a reassuring squeeze. 

- From inside the kitchen, Yoongi and jimin have decided to stay and help chop things, but the cutting boards lay untended on the counter. Taehyung too has piled to the side of the bay doors to secretly watch the two of you. “Jin get over here” Yoongi hisses as Taehyung jostles him by leaning his elbows on Yoongi’s shoulders. “I think it’s finally about to happen” jimin whispers hiss as they watch, all piled to peer around the door. 

- Both of you are oblivious to the audience you have, even as Namjoon and Jungkook start sending you two furtive glances. “Do you want to maybe-” Hoseok pauses, a little unsure, “go out for ice-cream tomorrow? Have you been to the cute place in myeongdong yet? They mix shaved ice and vanilla and it’s so good.” 

- “Yeah but we probably would have to get like 5 for all of them Seokjin loves shaved ice so much-” Hoseok’s hope falls incrementally.  he scratches at the back of his head with his other hand. 

- “Uhm I meant- I meant just the two of us? But you can totally bring Jin if you want to I know he’s like- I know I’m not great at like making sure you don’t crash into things” he thinks about an unfortunate incident that occurred last week when you came over to his house and almost fell horribly into a glass side table. internally wincing. 

- “But I thought it would be nice to kind spend some time one on one… if you- if you want to” he trails off, glad you can't see how bright red he is- god it’s been so so long since he asked anyone out on a date he can’t believe how badly he just fucked that up. 

- But you won’t let him get away with anything. “Do you mean like a date?” Hoseok’s ears burn, he replies even quieter and even more unsure, “only if you want it to be- we can, we can just go as friends too, if you- if you want?” you grip his hand tight, glad that the light spilling from the kitchen allows you to properly judge where Hoseok’s face is, reach out to press your hand to his cheek. 

- Inside, Seokjin slaps a hand over Jimin's mouth the second he’s about to shout in joy, while Yoongi pumps his arm and swallows his excitement as Taehyung bounces on the balls of his feet, biting on his knuckles to keep from exclaiming, boxy grin impossibly wide. 

- “Shaved ice sounds lovely, we can go just us two- I’m sure the boys will be glad to have some time to goof off.” 

- “Okay” he says, the words quiet and hopeful, He leans his hand into your cheek, you can feel how warm it is, and the flutter of his eyelashes, the streach of his mouth into a wide smile, softer than the rest. All of it- you are keenly aware of every little movement he makes to lean in closer to you. and feel even more keenly when he stops, heating up a little as he turns his head and sees whatever's in the kitchen. 

- He stays for dinner, all of them do. they move the kitchen table out onto the deck and pile in, though Yoongi does have to sit on the ottoman that was in the living room. (Though Jimin is practically sitting in his lap the whole night- really why did you even bother grabbing 2 chairs for them?).

- None of them mention or tease when you both inform them that tomorrow night you’re going to go out, though the eye wiggling wink jimin gives Hoseok makes him flush and sink into his seat. 

- You compliment Taehyung on the braised acorn squash he tells you proudly that he made all on his own with barely any help from Seokjin. He feeds you the best piece with his own chopsticks, and he blushes and flicks his tail against Seokjin’s face, squeaking when he grabs it and pulls lovingly. 

- The next day before your date with Hobi, Taehyung, and Jimin and Jungkook walk over to your house toting their X-box, it’s many cords and more than a few bags of snacks. 

- Seokjin answers the door and lets them in.  Jimin snickers standing on his tippy toes to press a kiss to the underside of Seokjin’s jaw and says, “he changed 5 times for this” within earshot of you, Namjoon snags his hip and scents along the Coolum of Jimin’s throat in hello after doing the same to Jungkook and Tae. “she changed 3 and had us weigh in on each outfit” Namjoon adds. 

- Seokjin stoops to kiss both of their cheeks, “I spent a full hour on her makeup too!” then he returns to your side to help you put on your jean jacket, before you dart back into your room at the sound of the doorbell “just tell him I’ll be ready in a second! i forgot about my perfume” 

- The doorbell rings again, and Seokjin lets Hoseok in. His leg is twitching and he tosses a little nervous hello at Seokjin before his hands reach up as if to run through his hair- carefully a little windswept before he stops- like he’s worried about messing it up. 

- Seokjin takes one good look at Hoseok’s rumpled white button-down and shakes his head. “That won’t do” tugging on the corner of his shirt half-tucked into his tight dark skinny jeans, tugging it up further so that it comes loose “off- there's iron in the laundry room.” 

- Hoseok eyes Seokjin for a moment, when the elder raises an eye expectantly Hoseok finally starts unbuttoning it. “No undershirt- really?” Hoseok blushes at that and throws him the shirt. Jimin wolf whistles, which Namjoon answers with an honest to god whistle. Both of them leaning over the back of the couch to watch Hoseok, drinking in the low rise pants and happy trail combo (along with the abs? how the hell does Hoseok manage to have abs when he has full-time job?) 

- Jimin’s green cat eyes are sharp and teasing “Hey hubby” he greets with a flutter of his eyelashes, his patchy tail swishing. “hey menace” Hoseok teases lovingly, as he trails away after Jin.

-  Just under the stairs and it’s cealing  slanted on one side, Seokjin leaves the laundry room door open. a shelf of cubbies consumes the nonslanted wall some of them empty and others full of towels and bins of winter jackets or baskets full of snow boots. There is a basket of laundry on top of the drier and Hoseok definitely doesn’t let his eyes linger on whatever lacy and translucent thing is kind of falling out and over the top. 

- Seokjin pops an iron board from where it’s folded against the wall, clicking on the iron (which was many more settings and looks a lot more heavy duty than a regular one) and makes sure it’s filled with steam. Hoseok briefly recalls one of your late-night conversations about Seokjin- about what he’d done before you’d adopted him and his time as a show hybrid, and Hoseok briefly wonders if he’d learned how to do this from that. 

- While they wait a minute for the iron to heat up Seokjin holds out his hand. “give me your phone” Hoseok hands it over with a raised eyebrow, Seokjin clicks around on it for a moment. 

- “I think it’s good that you both are getting some alone time but incase anything happens I want you to have my number.” Jin says. “I don’t want to smother you both but-” 

- “Jin you’re not some overprotective parent. I totally understand why you would be- hell- I’m worried every time she takes Taehyung, Jimin, and Jungkook to the park.” 

- “It’s not that I don’t trust them it’s just that…“ where Seokjin trails off Hoseok finishes. 

- “They’re not the most aware bunch.” Seokjin smiles at Hoseok finishing his sentence, looking up at Hoseok with only the thin ironing board between the two of them. And Hoseok finds himself suddenly aware of the fact that he’s shirtless-In what is basically a closet with all 6-foot glory of Kim Seokjin and his delicate countenance that disarms Hoseok in dangerous ways. 

- Even with you waiting for him out in the living room, Seokjin makes his heart stutter and it’s not like you wouldn’t understand if he explained to you. More often than not Hoseok has come in to find you snuggled into Seokjin or kissing him or cuddling him or Namjoon or all three of your hybrids. And newer- all three of his. And Hoseok doesn’t mind one bit. 

- Seokjin checks the iron, holding his hand a safe inch away from it to feel its heat and then turn it up all the way, before he starts and carefully smoothing out Hoseok’s shirt, pressing around the edges with a practiced air.  “is it bad that I’m nervous?” 

- “It would be worse if you weren’t.” Seokjin finishes quickly, setting the iron back into a standing  position and Hoseok is sure he has one of those back in his house but he’s not sure he’s ever used it- some move in present from his mother. Seokjin holds shirt out for Hoseok to step into. 

-  Is it just Hoseok’s imagination? Or his Seokjin letting his fingers brush a little more over the planes of his chest as he button’s up Hoseok’s shirt. He’s blushing by the end of it. 

- When Seokjin makes a ticking noise at his hair and runs his hand through Hoseok’s hair to make it more tousled. he bemoans the loss of effort, he’d spent thirty minutes makeing it perfect, but the intent expression on seokjin’s face, suddenly closer, makes the complaint die in his throat.  “She’ll be able to tell,” Seokjin says. “What?” 

- “if she touches your arm or your shoulder she’ll be able to tell if it’s smooth or not- and she likes it a lot when it’s smooth and soft.” He says as he runs his fingers down Hoseok's arms and to the cuffs rolling them up once then twice, and checking intermittently to make sure they’re even. 

- Seokjin looks down smiling at his memories. “do you know that when we first got here both Namjoon and I individually and independently decided that we both didn’t want to wear any fabrics that she didn’t like? Because we cuddle so much and neither of us wanted to put her off?” 

- Hoseok laughs, because what Seokjin’s describing- that’s cute. “What ones should I be worried of? Not that we’re going to be cuddling tonight or anything really” thought Hoseok does have hopes. Seokjin grins- like he knows Hoseok is imagining it. “Say away from chiffons and wool blends, cotton is usually a safe bet- just god no microfiber” 

- Seokjin continues combing through Hoseok's locks. Hoseok gets why the hybrids love head rubs so much- it feels unreasonably good and Hoseok doesn’t even have a pair of ultra-sensitive nerve ending dense ears on top of his head. Seokjin fusses with Hoseok’s hair, turning the curls this way and that to get them to a cute placement.  “Will she be able to tell my hair is messed up too?” 

- Seokjin takes a step towards Hoseok. Close but not pinning him against the ironing board quite yet. Hoseok realizes how tall Seokjin is, the few inches between the two of them feel greater now. Hoseok rarely feels so pinned in and small like this doesn’t even really like feeling that way at least not the same way that Jungkook and Taehyung like. 

- But it does calm the nervous bits of him to have Seokjin so close, the tender affection exactly what Hoseok needs as his hand squeezes the back of Hoseok’s neck. “No” Seokjin says, his mouth a perilous few inches from Hoseok’s, the room suddenly too hot and small to contain all of this. “that’s for me.”  

- Seokjin doesn’t kiss Hoseok like Hoseok thinks he will. Instead tipping their foreheads together and letting hoseok feel every brush of closeness until their lips truely meet. The moment is quiet and tender, almost stolen. Hoseok’s hands fist in the back of Seokjin’s shirt and the elder's hands are still nested in Hoseok’s hair. Just for a moment really, but it somehow makes Hoseok feel like a live wire sparking with it all, and suddenly he’s not anxious about your date at all as he breaks apart. 

- “I trust you with her Hobi.” Jin says after a moment, letting their noses brush before Hoseok pulls back, steadying his hand against the ironing board without thinking about the hot iron. 

- This is how your date would have gone: 

- Hoseok’s heart would have beaten quick when he saw you in your baby blue dress in your living room, the hybrids would have teased both of you for your blush and Seokjin would have quite literally pushed both of you out the door. Shaved ice would have been a lovely affair in which Hoseok cutely fed you spoonfuls while you let him have sips of your hot chocolate which you got even though it’s the middle of summer. 

- Then after, the two of you would linger and walk by the river and Hoseok would have explained to you how all of the lights look and all the neon shrouded night and how hot humidity of summer made the light look diffrent. 

- On the way home, the two of you would have cuddled up on the train close and Hoseok would have frozen and gone still when you laid your head on his shoulder and intertwined your hands your ankle brushing his. Scared that the jostling of the moving train would make you vacate his shoulder, a spot that your cheek had always been meant to rest on. 

- And then when you got to your front door the following conversation would have taken place:

- “I just realized- we don’t really get to say goodbye- I’ll just go in and get them and then we’ll go over to my house and ugh- I was hoping this would be like the movies- you know when the guy walks the girl home and then they-“ Hoseok would have choked off, stopping his rambling, realizing what he was just about to say. 

- Kiss, he would want to kiss you goodnight, a small nervous smile plays on your lips, and Hoseok would have thought wow good job Hoseok now she totally thinks you’re a creep- though it’s not exactly wrong to want to kiss after the first date? He had been clear that this was a date right and you’d agreed so-

- “I’ll pretend it’s a movie if you will.” 

- “Oh” he would have said, would have shifted closer his hand coming up to your cheek, “okay,” his lips would be soft and tentative despite the fact that hoseok gives and gets kisses more than the average human. his hair brushing at your forehead, nose a little off, it would be shorter but he’d catch you with your lips parted and now can’t resist opening his mouth a little too. He would have sucked your bottom lip between one of his, not biting on it but pressing it. 

- Your hands would have come to rest on his shoulders and coincidentally- his nicely pressed smooth silk shirt, smoothing over it, and retaliated by pressing in close makeing hoseok’s head go the best kind of hazy. nose filled with the prick of your sweet perfume, hands full of the softness of you- and everything from your little ghap when you part every kind of right. 

- Neither of you would have cared that you where in the middle of the street, especially when Hoseok’s hand would have gone up to cradle the back of your head and run through your silky hair, he would have tilt your head to just the right angle so that you would melt into the kiss like chocolate on a hot summer day. 

- You two would be so caught up In what is basically making out that you wouldn’t notice your front door opening, the 2 hybrids that can't fit into the doorway looking on from the window as Seokjin snorts, “Finally!”  

- But instead, what happens is this: 

- “Mother fucker!” Hoseok yells flinching back when his hand touches the still burning hot iron, doubling over as hot and consuming pain laces up his arm from his sensitive palm.

(Please comment and reblog! Likes are nice, but they do little to support content creators!)

[the-hoarse-bard]

As I descended the stairs from the entrance, I heard a commotion. On the far side of the entrance, I could just make out a necromancer fighting a bandit. I got closer and hid behind a large pillar in the middle of the room. The necromancer finished off the bandit with a dagger to the throat and stood at a table near the pillar, reading what looked to be a spell tome. He must be one of the groups junior members. I slipped out from my hiding place and cut his throat before moving on.

As I proceeded, I heard several explosions going off that shook the whole tomb. I peeked around a corner into the next room and saw a necromancer fighting with several, now ignited, Draugr. One of the mummies was wielding ice magic, while the necromancer blasted them with fire. There was also a zombie bandit in the fray, but he wasn’t achieving much. Eventually, the necromancer died from the frost, but the Draugr quickly burned to death afterward. I took a moment to just gawk at the spectacular display of clumsiness from all involved. Undead are rarely smarter than the average clump of moss, but it’s baffling that the necromancer didn’t have any way to heal.

Thankfully for my sanity, the amount of idiot necromancers seemed to die down as I delved deeper, giving way to the usual Draugr. Soon, I came into a large chasm of a room. I could barely make out a word wall way down at the bottom, and decided that must be where the horn was. I proceeded more carefully. An unlucky tumble here would be certain death.

One of the more interesting rooms I encountered on the descent was an odd kind of dining room off the main chasm. There was fresh food and even a few kegs of ale strewn about. I suppose Draugr are still Nords, and what Nord could resist a proper mead hall? Still, it felt odd to me to consider that Draugr would need to eat and drink.

I took a peek over a ledge to see my progress, and noticed the path to the bottom was just up ahead. I fought my way through the few remaining skeletons, and descended to the word wall.

I learned the word and took a look around, realizing that the horn was not down here. I let out a sigh and as I was retracing my steps, I noticed a room off of where the path to the word wall started.

The grates blocking my progress seemed to open when I walked past these stones. Seeing what I had to do I ran between them and shouted ‘Wuld’ to gain the speed to dash under the grates before they shut. I would have to remember to thank Master Borri when I got back to the monastery.

The halls beyond were very dangerous, with the entire floor covered in the fire traps I had encountered earlier in the barrow. Luckily my acrobatics were up to the task of keeping off of the floor. The Two-Moons monks at least had taught me that.

As I came to the end of the fire hallway, there was a room full of frostbite spiders. I prepared myself, leapt to the platform, and summoned Lucien, ready for battle. For some reason, though, the spiders didn’t seem interested in fighting. They didn’t even try to stop me as I cut through the webbing blocking the way forward. Lucien and I both shrugged and continued on.

I approached the pedestal in the inner sanctum, and a quartet of ornate pillars rose from the water in the room. It was only as I drew close to where the horn was supposed to be, that I noticed it wasn’t there. In it’s place was a note, telling me that if I wanted the horn to come to the Sleeping Giant inn in Riverwood. Then I noticed the Draugr who were supposed to be guarding the horn dead in the corner. Someone had beaten me here, and they were no joke. I scooped what loot I could find into my bag, and stepped back out into the murky damp air of the swamps.

I stopped by the inn in Morthal to warm up and by Azurah, the damn corpse was still there. Lurbuk was still in the same corner I had left him in, unmoved. I’m beginning to think the innkeep is using his corpse as some kind of display, as there were actually patrons present this time. This town is full of freaks.

[velvetinewitch]

#EDBFB7 #B5BFA1 #6E9887 :0 ? a very woodland-y vibe lol

i love this palette ahhh- okay, i needed practice with writing so this is a bit long haha. the colors are definitely a woodland-y vibe but they also make me think of sleeping beauty? SO, here’s a little change to a classic that i just thought up

[send me three hex codes and i’ll write something for them!]

The fairies had whisked Aurora away from the castle’s cold walls and into the woods that she’d grown to call home. They laid her to rest on a bed crafted from tulips, their petals like a watercolor painting. Her hands settled upon her chest. Her breathing was so shallow that it was almost as if she were dead- one might have fallen for the ruse if not for the rosiness of her cheeks. They were always red. She never seemed to stop blushing from the cold. Those who knew her- not her father, but her the fairies, and the forest beings, and even the girl who’d delivered produce to their cabin in the woods every month since they were twelve- knew that Aurora was quick to anger, quicker to embarrass. It was as if her blood was already rushing to her cheeks, to save time.

While her three fairy caretakers huddled around her bed, biting their nails in anticipation for the time that the rosiness would wilt, the forest changed around her. It knew Aurora as well as Aurora knew it, and she’d spent 16 years wandering those trees. Now their leaves had grown to shield her from the burn of the sun, branches twisting high above the sky. The water from the nearest creak had trickled downhill to surround her in a wide circle. It was a barrier to any who wished the princess harm- everyone knew creeks were the strongest form of protection. On the other side of the water, the folk of the forest had gathered round. Fairies hovered above. Owls and bluejays perched in the trees. A large, majestic deer stood guard beside a bundle of light colored rabbits, and even a small dragon had curled up around a trunk, watching Aurora with beady eyes. They all waited for a miracle to appear at the foot of the trickling the stream, but as the day wore on, none came.

At the cabin where Aurora had been raised, the chimney was still lit, and smoke wafted upward into the clouds. Omaira pushed the door open slowly, but no answer came when she called out the names of each of the fairies, and then Aurora’s. On a normal day, she would be greeted at the door by three kind, motherly (if not a little wild) smiles, and Aurora would rush down the stairs two at a time. Omaira had only seconds to place her basket on the nearest table before she was catching Aurora in her arms, tumbling back at the weight of her friend, and they’d laugh. Every month, on the same day, she’d make the journey. They’d lay the contents of the basket out and pick through the herbs, the spices, the fruits, and vegatables. The fairies would argue with Omaira, pushing their money at her, and Omaira would always refuse. “It’s nice enough just to visit,” she’d say, and she’d look to Aurora over their shoulders, but Aurora was never looking back.

The fire was still on, but it was beginning to fade. No food had been set out for dinner, which was strange, as Aurora would explore for hours, but she always came back for dinner, especially on a day like this. There was a cake on the counter, so tall it had begun to tilt, but even that hadn’t been touched, and the candles had melted away completely, the blue wax slipping onto the frosting. Omaira set her basket down on a chair. She’d brought sweets today, ones she’d spent forever struggling to bake. But Aurora wasn’t home, and her fairy guardian were missing as well, and the fire was still burning and they’d have put it out with a flick of a wand if they’d planned to leave. Omaira glanced at the door, which had steadily begun to open again. At its foot was a small snake, dark brown scales and a diamond pattern along his frame. The snake had nudged the door open and now stared expectantly up at her, his tongue flicking out in the air. Omaira, in the back of her mind, wondered if the snake could smell the baked goods in the room. 

“Is Aurora okay?” she asked. She felt a bit silly, speaking to a snake, but animals were never normal when it came to Aurora. She had a specil skill with nature. Flowers never stopped blooming around her, even in the cold of winter. Deer never ran from her, moths flocked to her like she was a fire, and even the most dangerous of creatures fell in line when she near. When Omaira was twelve, she’d always been amazed to see it all; even now, it was still something to behold.

The snake locked eyes with her. She’s asleep, he hissed. On a bed in the woods, and she’ll sleep forever if you don’t wake her up.

Omaira had always known something like this would happen. Aurora brought nature to her doorstep, but she also brought trouble. The amount of times they’d nearly died on Aurora’s unplanned ventures... “Take me to her,” Omaira said. She used to be a voice of reason, before she met Aurora, too cautious to do anything wild.

The snake curled into a coil. I’m a messenger, he said. He sounded almost offended. Not a guide. The woods will show you the way. And then he unfurled himself and slithered away, leaving the door agape. 

Omaria squared her shoulders. She grabbed the basket from the chair- if Aurora was alive after whatever this was, she’d want the sweets- and made her way outside. The sun had begun to set and in the darkening woods, a blueish light had began to glow. Omaira recognized the floating orb as a  will-o'-the-wisp, although she’d never seen one before. She tugged her cloak further over her shoulders and marched towards it. The ghost light disappeared when she was feet away, and a second bobbed into existence further into the woods. Omaira followed them, struggling not to trip over branches and leaves, her shoesskidding against stray rocks.

It was hours before she heard the sound of water running. Soft pink lights shone in the distance and the final will-o'-the-wisp disappeared so only the gentle pastel lit the trees. Omaira made her way past the last of the treesand came into the clearing. Aurora lay at the center of a gathering of wild creatures, the flowers around her growing out and spreading across the ground like nimble green fingers. The first to notice Omaira’s presence was a large red deer, a stag with magestic antlers that had ancient moss dripping off it. He met her eyes searchingly- finding something he approved of, he bowed to her. On by one, each of the animals and fae turned to see her, and each, just as the stag had, bowed low and deep. Omaira spotted the three fairies hovering over Aurora’s bed. The tallest of the three, the red fairy, was watching Omaira with wide eyes. She whispered something to the other two, and they motioned Omaira over. With a deep breath she stepped carefully over the running water and made her way to the bed of tulips.

“I didn’t think it would be you,” said the red fairy gently, “but I should have known.”

“It... would be me?” Omaira frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Aurora is under a sleeping curse,” explained the yellow fairy. She gazed at Omaira with kind eyes, but they were puffy, as if she’d been crying. She cried over their 14th birthdays, cried when Aurora first learned to dance, even cried the first time Omaira stayed the night at their cabin, so excited to be able to make her try her disgusting breakfasts. “To awake her-”

“To awake her you must kiss her!” hurried the blue one. She was practically bouncing in the air, but she’d always been the quickest to excitement.

Omaira recoiled. “I have to what?”

The red fairy shook her head. “The curse requires true love’s kiss to be broken,” she said.

“I’m definitely not her true love,” Omaira said. She shook her head but didn’t back away, no matter how tempted to run she was. She’d expected dragons, not unrequited love- and now she could feel the eyes of the entire forest on her back, watching her expectantly. “It must be a prince, or a dashing noble, maybe someone who can fight an evil witch for her, but certaintly not me. I can go find them, if you need me to, but...”

“You’ve fought someone for her plenty of times,” said the blue fairy. “We’ve had to drag you away from fights before! You’re the least aggressive person I knew, but Aurora definitely taught you some of her recklessness. And you may not be a noble but you’ve always been the closest of her friends. I remember when you two first met, and Aurora turned to me after you’d left and asked if it was normal for girls to be so pretty. I’ve never laugh as hard in my life! She didn’t stop talking about you for a month, and when I made fun of her for it, she threatened to run away.”

“You two have been attached to each other’s hips for four long years,” the red fairy reminded her. “I should have known you were her true love, dear. The forest led you here for a reason.” Her gaze moved to Aurora, and so did Omaira’s.

Aurora’s chest rose slowly, and it was barely noticeable if Omaira wasn’t searching for that little sign of life. She was used to Aurora being more awake than anyone else around them- always dragging her into a spur of the moment dance. Omaira hadn’t been a confident person before sh’d met Aurora, but Auroa was bold like lights in the sky, like the stars above them. She took a shaky breath and stepped up to Aurora’s side. “Okay,” she said. There was no way to do this without it being uncomfortable, the postion and the way that Aurora was deathly quiet, her eyes closes. Omaira closed her eyes and leaned in, pressing her lips to Aurora’s.

Even as Omaira pulled away, she could feel the sudden burst of power come from them and spread across the land like a jolt of invincible lightning. Aurora’s eyes flickered open slowly, but no one spoke, or even gasped, and Omaira was too busy settling into her amazement, her nerves buzzing, to breath. At some point she’d dropped the basket onto the floor, but it didn’t matter, not now.

Aurora blinked up at her with dazed blue eyes. Omaira took a step back to give her space, for good cause- she sat up so quickly they almost bumped heads. Aurora reached her fingers to her lips and turned her head to Omaira, who could feel the burn of an invisible blush on her cheeks. She wanted to run, but it was as if the forest had tied it’s leaves around her ankles and was holding her down. Aurora’s eyes flickered up to the night sky and then back to Omaira, a familiar fierceness lighting them up. She threw her legs over the side of the bed, ignoring the petals and stems that must have irriated her ankles. “What took you so long?” she demanded. Her cheeks were aglow, although Omaira couldn’t decide if she was angry or cold.

“The kiss or... the kiss?” Omaira asked. She knew the phrase made no sense.

But Aurora just grinned, because after four long years of only loving each other, she could understand the most confusing sentences that Omaira spewed. “Both,” she said, and the forest looked away so she could hop off the bed of flowers, trip a little, fall into Omaira’s arms like a clumsy dolt she had always been, and then stand on her toes to kiss her back. “By the way,” she said, “Apparantly I’m a princess now.”

“It explains the talking animals,” Omaira said, and she savored the way Aurora laughed before she kissed her again.

[corpse--diem]

Once More, With Feeling | Morgan, Rebecca, Nell & Erin

Takes place around mid-March. 

@mor-beck-more-problems / @exorciseyourspirit / @nelllraiser

Morgan couldn’t remember what she had imagined when she and Nell agreed to gather up a sacrifice for Erin’s ritual. The moose had been decided in advance after a brief consultation with the mortician (So what would you say your dad’s favorite animal was? If he was an animal, would he be the same one?) and Nell had known where all the choice moose grounds were. Maybe she had thought they’d hold out some berries and make some nice transcendent connection like in some new agey painting. Maybe she imagined some kind of magic lasso situation before popping the elixer in. Whatever ideas she’d had, it hadn’t involved getting swatted in the face by its tail or falling into the mud. Still, moss-covered and muddy, they managed to make it from the woods to the mortuary. Morgan waved to Erin from the driveway, smiling as best she could. “Okay!” She said to Nell, still a little out of breath. “We made it! This is good! And thanks again, making sure I didn’t get a black eye. I really don’t wanna bug your mom for another healing so soon.”

It’d been a moment since Nell had caught anything so large as a moose, but she was certainly up for the challenge the creatures posed. Though the creatures weren’t normally aggressive, that generally only stood true for when they were unprovoked. And Nell was fairly certain capturing one counted as...provoking it. She was something of a mirror image to Morgan with mud and grass, but a bright grin was one her lips, some of her adrenaline keeping her on that high as she helped the other witch lead the moose in. “We made it!” she exclaimed, all too thrilled with how things had turned out thus far. “Yeah, and she would have asked too many questions if she’d had to heal you this quickly. But thanks for making sure I didn’t get literally kicked in the butt.” Her smile dropped in the slightest, remembering the danger Morgan had been put in. Nevertheless, she followed Morgan’s lead in waving towards Erin eagerly, a hand pointing towards the moose in question as if she were presenting a prize. “We got the moose! Isn’t he pretty?” He was, indeed, the finest moose specimen they could find. Generally the stronger and more handsome a beast— the better when it came to sacrifices. “So uh- do we have...a way to get this guy where we need him once he’s inside?”

Erin didn’t know where the question about her dad’s favorite animal was going to go. Maybe she naively assumed they were going to channel a moose god or whatever it was these people got up to, but when they hauled a whole damn moose up her driveway? Erin was speechless. Who was she to question them, though? They were here to help her, right? She bit the inside of her cheek to stop herself from yelling, but threw on a pained, welcoming face. “Beautiful,” she tried to reply with equal gusto, faltering halfway through. Okay, she couldn’t do this anymore. “Before I let you bring this large, live animal into my home,” she gestured towards the elevator door usually meant for caskets and bodies. “Why are we bringing a fucking moose in here?” Rebecca hadn’t prepared her for this. And even if she had tried to, this was all starting to seem like a horrible idea.

Rebecca had arrived early, just as she’d told Erin she would. Morgan and Nell were fetching the sacrifice-- a word that still made her shudder, blood magic was not something she often liked-- as Rebecca set to work getting the basement ready. She could hear the poor severed body scratching away at the door, begging to be let out. All it wanted was to do whatever the wish that brought it to life told it to. But it wasn’t that simple. Even after that, he would still be around. A true curse. Morgan and Rebecca knew about that, didn’t they? Rebecca’s vision blurred a moment and she blinked it away before she continued to etch little canels into the floor. Pathways for the blood to run through and connect, making the circle. Symbols on the inside would need to be redrawn in blood, but she’d chalked them out so that all three of them could work on that part once the ritual began. Sitting back, she examined her work. Nearly done. Just on time it seemed, as she heard voices from upstairs. She went back over to her bag and dug out her notes, getting to work setting out the incense in the places she’d noted on her sheet.

Morgan looked at Erin incredulously. “You want to do this right, yeah?” She said, still bright, patting the moose gently on the back. “Equivalent exchange! We get out what we get in. And we need to get out a lot, so--” She waved her hand, ta-da style. She lead the way towards the garage. It seemed roomy enough, and there was some promising looking machinery that might be moose friendly. Moosey wasn’t going to be around much longer, the less distressed he was the better, she felt, but they also needed to make this happen. They’d take care of Moosey’s remains after, and the sacrifice would be quick. Morgan had looked at diagrams of Moose anatomy so she’d know where to cut and how deep. “Hey, Rebecca--?” She called. Exchanging a look with Nell. Keeping Erin on board hadn’t been part of the plan, but maybe they could keep her reassured together.

Nell nodded along with Morgan’s words, as if this was the obvious answer. “Exactly! And if we don’t have enough to exchange well...it’s never good. And plus— you said your dad reminded you of a moose, right?” Nell finished, as if that was the clearest explanation she’d ever given in her entire life. Nell didn’t mind having Erin present, though. In truth, it might help things along if she wanted to donate a bit of her own blood, and she’d said as much to Rebecca online. With consent, of course. And no more than just a bit. She followed along the moose, bringing up the rear as they toddled along. Meanwhile, bringing up the caboose of the parade behind Nell was what appeared to be an enormous black cat brought up the rear in the form of Taki, tail proudly waving through the air as if he’d been the one to catch the moose. “Is Rebecca...here?”

Erin didn’t have the energy to fight this. She’d proclaimed numerous times she’d do what she needed to in order to get rid of her undead father and if bringing in a fucking moose was what it was going to take? “At this point, we might as well,” she ran two worried hands down the sides of her cheeks, holding back the horror in her chest. Her eyes were on the moose the whole time as she led them to the elevator. Thankfully, they’d managed to capture a smaller one, but big enough that his antlers barely fit through the frame of the door. She stood outside, shutting the door. Glass shattered as the elevator descended. Probably a light fixture. Or five. This was all for a reason. This was fine, she kept telling herself. “She’s downstairs. And probably not at all ready to greet a moose while she sets up.” Erin took to the stairs that led to where the elevator opened up in the basement, motioning for Nell to follow. “You know, you never did tell me how you managed to break in here,” she said offhand, trying to distract herself from the moose that was stepping into her basement. This was fine. This was totally fine. “What, uh--what do you need me to do?” She asked when they finally were all in the basement, moose party-of-one included.

The elevator dinged and Rebecca looked up from her work, going over to the door, but standing aside. She knew what was expected behind the door, as it slid open and a nervous looking Erin came into view. “Oh, good! You were able to find one. Is it calmed, like we discussed?” she asked Morgan, looking over to Nell. She was younger than her online presence made her seem, but Rebecca could already sense the amount of power the girl held. As she ushered them in, she finished setting up the last candle and went to stand on the other side of the circle. “We’ll get this all set up before we grab your--” she stopped herself. Was it insensitive to say father? Probably, “--the corpse--” Oh, that wasn’t much better, “--Do we have anything to restrain him with?”

Morgan held up the empty elixir bottle triumphantly for Rebecca to see. “Moosey is in a great place right now, and I’ve done the research legwork to make this a quick one.” Suffering wasn’t an ingredient in the ritual, so she wasn’t keen on creating any. She pet the creature’s fur, scratching behind its rather impressive neck. The set up was exactly according to what Rebecca had told them to expect, candles and sigils and arrays in a dazzlingly complex riff on the dimensional theory circles she’d come across in her studies. It was beautiful. More importantly: it was powerful. Morgan scanned the rest of the room and settled on a shadowy shape slumped in a chair. “Is that, uh….is that him?” She asked, pointing.

Nell took a closer look at Erin, letting everything slow down for a moment to realize that...this probably wasn’t easy for the woman, especially after who knows how many of her light fixtures had just been shattered. “It’s gonna be good. We know what we’re doing,” she offered as a feeble attempt at assurance. “And um- I can...pay for the light fixtures.” That was technically their fault, wasn’t it? “But a good witch never tells her secrets about breaking in.” Nell bounced back with a tease. “Don’t worry about it, though- it’s nothing anyone without magic wouldn’t be able to do.” Then she was joining Morgan near the moose, reaching into her pocket and procuring a strawberry to offer up to the big guy with a fond smile. “Morgan’s a smartie pants, and I’ve used a moose or two before so it’ll be great.” Then she was taking in the set-up Rebecca had made with a practiced eye, not surprised to find that everything looked as beautiful and in order as it could be. “Truly a work of art, Rebecca. What’s he restrained with, now? If we have to, we could just use a bit of magic for that as well.”

Erin truly thought she was past the whole ‘this is fucking bizarre’ phase of this whole endeavor, but seeing the moose and the elaborate set up with the circle with the markings, surrounded in candles made her realize how entirely untrue that was. Noticed Rebecca’s hiccup in word choice but at this point?  “Don’t worry about the lights,” she mumbled towards Nell, before a long, steadying sigh slipped through her lips. This was fine. Everything was fine. They were talking about the moose but it wasn’t clicking until a few seconds after that--”Wait, you’re going to… you know.” She gestured to her neck, dragging her index finger across it. “To the moose?” Jesus this was derailing further and further every second this dragged on. She ran her hands over her face again, her anxiety levels spiking. Just do what the kind witches say and this’ll be over soon. “I got him,” she nodded. Moved across the room to the chair her father was tied up in dragging him out into the light and to the circle. Wasn’t sure if that was right, but she’d seen enough horror movies to have an idea of how she assumed occult-y stuff worked. Doubled back for the kitchen pot, opting to hold that one in her arms for now. “What next?” She asked with more gusto. “I’d really just--love to get this over with, if that’s alright.”

“No need to hush the words,” Rebecca said to Erin, “he can’t understand English.” She turned to look at Nell, giving a nod. “Thank you, Nell.” She watched Erin drag her father out, from wherever she’d had him stashed. His head was missing, and he was tied to a chair. When Erin dragged him to the circle, Rebecca came up beside her and corrected his positioning, putting him at the top of the circle. “Center of the circle is for sacrifices. Top of the circle is the energy point,” was all she said before heading back to the other two. “Morgan, are you doing the sacrifice or is Nell? I have the dagger prepped already, so whoever is doing it, use that,” she instructed, pointing them to where to stand as well. Turned back to Erin. “I’ll need you to stand opposite your father, here,” she said, ushering Erin to her. “You’ll need to hold something of his as well. Something that has value to you.”

“We’re doing it together,” Morgan said readily. She had never killed anything as large as a moose before, and somehow that made it all the more important. She took the dagger from Rebecca and held herself in position, waiting for Nell to do the same. They had gone over this together, where to strike without wasting the blood they needed, and how quickly to slit the throat. Morgan had even practiced her techniques on the fresh produce she brought home. It wasn’t perfect or even close to the feel of the hairy, breathing creature beneath her, but as Morgan drove the knife into Moosey’s heart, she was glad she had something outside of herself to focus on.

Moosey’s legs buckled under him.

Morgan draped an arm around his wide neck and dug her weight into the floor to slow his fall. “Sshh, it’s okay. You’re doing so good, “she whispered. Stroking his pelt, she angled his head just so and peered down at Nell through his antlers one more time for the okay before speaking the blessing of sacrifice Rebecca had given her to memorize and making the second cut.

Dark blood sprayed up Morgan’s hands and rivered down, snaking past Moosey’s matted fur and trailing down, thicker and heavier, into the circle.

Nell waited for Morgan to get into position, stepping into her own with a matching knife in hand as she locked eyes with the other witch, a steady hand still petting the moose. She was only ever briefly sad about her sacrifices, knowing that they were serving a greater purpose. And did their life truly end if it was living on in something else? It was simply the ebb and flow of the universe, an exchange of energies that some might even say was beautiful. The manipulation of blood, and the life held within it should be revered in her mind, not met with disgust. In tandem, she sunk her own knife into the big moose, whispering her own words of comfort and encouragement to him as she did her best to help lower him. “Good boy, that’s it. Just a little sleep. Thank you, Moosey. I’ll remember you.” The blood was flowing quickly now as she felt her magic beginning to spring to life. She took a bit of it for herself, spreading just enough up her arms to leave long, red streaks there. Nell couldn’t really explain it, but she generally chalked the rush of power she got from this act to her affinity for blood magic. Finally, she rose from her place on the floor beginning the next part of the ritual as she spoke the words aloud, confidence in her movements as she reached out to link hands with Morgan and Rebecca.

Erin set the potted head in place beside where Rebecca had nudged the rest of her father’s remains in the circle. She’d thrown a joke in there--or maybe a genuine, playful jab--but it hardly sunk in. This felt like an out of body experience and she could only nod and move at the other women’s directions. Something of his. Right. She had prepared for that much. They weren’t an overly sentimental family, making finding something appropriate harder than she thought it would be. She procured an old, well-worn mug--one that had seen years of use from the stains lining the inside with ‘Embalming Fluid’ written on outside. It was dumb, she knew that. But she’d given it to him the day she told him she wanted to be a mortician. That day he’d laughed harder and smiled brighter, prouder, than any other she could truly remember. For almost a decade, this was the only mug he would drink out of too. “Got it,” Erin held it up shyly as she moved to where Rebecca wanted her, just in time for the knives to sink into the heart of the moose. With amazing care and grace, she noted, but the sight of a wild animal bleeding out onto her floor, with Nell rubbing the blood into her skin, stunned her into pure silence again. Oh god, what was she doing? What had she invited into her home? Maybe she should’ve just Nic blow the goddamn corpse up. “Jesus,” she mumbled. Wild, panicked eyes followed the trail of blood that moved into the circle before jumping between the three women as if waiting for an explanation or further direction.

An old mug was a good choice. Rebecca looked between the three of them as Morgan and Nell prepared the sacrifice, turning her eyes away as they slit its throat and let it bleed. She wasn’t much for all this magic ritual and sacrificing, but she knew this was a part of it. A part of life. And this animal’s soul would be returned to the ether while its blood and body would be used to help, here on Earth. She gave it a silent prayer, waiting for its labored breathing to stop before opening her eyes. Nell had already prepared the blood on her arms and Rebecca watched the liquid pool around the circle she’d made, filling in every crevasse. When it was full, she grasped their hands. “We’re going to channel our power through you, Erin, and your mug. I want you to think about your father-- think everything. Think about the good moments and the bad. The joy, the pain, the sorrow he brought you. I want you to think about what closure you need from him. And when you’re ready, speak it aloud.” She nodded to where Erin needed to stand, in the middle of the circle, facing her father. “Don’t be afraid, you can’t be hurt inside of there, I made sure.” She glanced at Nell and Morgan, then, before nodding, signaling them to begin chanting with her. She hoped the Hebrew wasn’t too difficult to memorize, but considering she was the link of the circle, she needed it to be in her power language.

Morgan marked the back of her hands with Moosey’s blood as it poured from his neck. She held onto him with all her might to control his collapse to the floor. She bent over his lifeless body and scooped the dark, stringy flesh from his neck and marked herself with two sigils, one connecting her with the others, and one protecting her from the pull of what they were about to do. She opened herself up and filled herself with the words Rebecca had given them to memorize. Her voice was strong and her mind was clear. There was no curse, no worry, only the balance and the bargain, power flowing in and out of her. And suddenly, in the space they had made together, a bright hole cut its way into the world.

A small, peaceful smile began to form on Nell’s lips as she felt their power mount, the three woman’s magic weaving together as if it had been yearning all this time to be joined as one. She had never minded working alone, but spellcasting with two others like this- it almost had a sense of nostalgia for her, having grown up with two sisters who’s magic she shared as they’d practiced all together in their younger years. The words fell from her mouth in tandem with Morgan and Rebecca, and she didn’t pause as the hole opened from one world into the next, though curiosity made her stare. It wasn’t like the glimpses of the demon realm she’d had before, though it certainly wasn’t anything similar to their world either. As she looked into it- she could feel the pull of the new world working against their magic, trying to lure her into its depths with something of a siren call, as if all their wishes would come true if she only stepped forward. But the temptation wasn’t a match for their joined power, and instead she simply gazed onwards into the world, trying to glean whatever she could from the swirling images she saw within. Nothing stayed concrete for more than the blink of an eye, shifting at a moment’s notice as wishes so often did, taking forms you wouldn’t expect, it being impossible to predict what might come next. But there were more important things to do here. “Bring it home, Erin. Let yourself have it.”

Speak it outloud? Fuckity-fuck-fuck. Erin faltered at that more than she had when Morgan stabbed a goddamn moose in her basement. Shaky hands struggled to keep the mug in her grip while the women circled her and chanted, the bright light that suddenly ripped into the dark room. So close she could swear she felt some sort of electrical pull, like a crackle, that followed the gusts of wind blowing her hair back. What sort of magic fuckery had she gotten herself into? For a long moment she only stared into the hole, lost in the slideshow of colors and images that were gone as quick as they came. Nell’s voice brought her back with a jarring halt. Right. Her father. Feelings. She’d done her homework, had a lengthy talk with herself about it, but she was having trouble remembering anything at the moment.

Squeezing the mug, she closed her eyes and focused. Flashes of memories jumping around in her own mind. The bad--the day she left over a year ago after she’d realized he’d had something to do with his mother’s death. The day she got the call about his death. The lackluster note that explained what she now had inherited. Her jaw clenched tightly. There was good there too, she had to remember that. Like the memory that came with this stupid mug. All of the warm comforts of home and family meals. Crying in his arms when the kids at school would tease her for being weird. He had been who had taught her the best way to handle it was to embrace it, after all. But for every good memory, the bad trickled in over top of it, reminding her how they got here in the first place. Fuck, she should say something.

She opened her eyes to the stark contrast of decaying flesh against the brightness behind him. Fear crawled along her nerve endings like a thousand little spiders and her heart pounded loud in her ears above their voices. “I don’t hate you,” she started, her voice already wavering as she tried to find the words. “I should, and I have every reason to, but I don’t. But I have what you’ve done and--I hate how you left things. But I’m going to fix it. And I’m going to be just fine without you,” she nodded, straightening herself.

There. She’d done it. But why wasn’t anything happening?

The looks the witches gave her didn’t seem all too impressed or convinced. She held her hands up. “Okay, okay!” She got the hint. Took another deep breath, running a hand over her eyes in frustration. Dig deeper? Is that what they wanted? “Alright--fine!” She rolled her shoulders, shaking her head, giving in completely now. “I do fucking hate you sometimes. I hate that you destroyed our family. That you bowed out without saying goodbye. That you left me this--fucking shit show to deal with and that because of you, I have no chance of having a normal goddamn life. And you can be damn sure I won’t forgive you for getting her killed.” Her eyes burned and her cheeks felt wet, suddenly aware that was the first time she’d said that thought out loud. “But I’ll fix this because you couldn’t. And if I can’t fix it, you can be damn sure I’ll be better at it than you. I don’t need you and I need to move on if I ever have a chance at that.” Erin paused, clearing her throat, nodding at the headless corpse wriggling in the chair before her. She wasn’t afraid of it anymore. “So you need to go,” she said with certainty, wiping at the tears under her eyes. “Now.”

That electricity from the hole heightened suddenly with a blazing swirl, suddenly tangible and powerful. Enveloping her father, chair, pot and all with a force that sent him flying backwards. And in a flash, he was gone. Finally, forever, gone.

Magic wasn’t Rebecca’s forte by any means, but there was a certain je ne sais quoi to it that always pulled her back. It was a higher connection to the world and the universe at large. It was a feeling she always got during exorcisms, and it was a feeling she’d been chasing her entire life. A sort of calm always washed over her when it happened, and she had to fight to keep her eyes from closing, watching Erin, watching the others, watching the portal, opening and closing, visions of another world, a hole in the universe, peering back at them. Erin’s words held power, Rebecca could feel them. Her emotions writhed around through the magic, absorbing the blood they had spilled, and centering on the undead body tied to the chair. It was almost a tragedy.

It all happened so quickly. In a flash, the body was gone. The portal sucked into itself, and closed. The effects were immediately, and Rebecca felt the weariness creeping in, faltering only slightly in her step as she let go of the other two’s hands. “It’s done,” she said quietly, rubbing her head, “you’re free.”

Free. Erin heard the word, saw the empty space where her father had just sat. Felt the exhaustion set in, felt bare and ripped wide open, but free hadn’t washed over her just yet. Her eyes remained on the space where the light had been for more than a few moments, her fingers anxiously digging into her palms. As if at any moment it’d reappear and shoot him right back out. That’d be her luck, wouldn’t it? But that moment never came and she was eager to get away from the three sets of eyes around her. “Thank you,” she finally mustered, clearing her throat and wiping her eyes before she turned to face them again. She owed them more than she could properly communicate right now, hoping the sincerity in her voice would speak for her. “Yeah. Yeah, I am. It’s a start, anyway,” she mustered a half smile. Let a long breath go as her mind only just began to wrap around what had just happened. Then she stopped, her entire body sagging as her eyes fell to the blood streaming along the floor, leading to the small deceased moose still very much dead in the middle of the room. “...You guys are gonna take him with you, right?”

[ask-de-writer]

BLUE EYES : WIP : Chapter 4 : Hosted Tales

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Blue Eyes : Chapter IV

Questions, Answers, and Secrets

Written by @wind-the-mama-cat​

​ Art by @wind-the-mama-cat​

(New to BLUE EYES? Read from the beginning)

A few hours later, and as night fell on the Imperial city, and the rest of the land, I sighed deeply as Winter returned her Mahjong tiles to her bag.

“A tie.” The Handmaiden giggled. “I have never lost a game in my life. Until today.”

“Well…” I stood up and stretched. A groan escaped my lips as my back popped. “There’s a first time for everything.”

Winter quirked her eyebrow. “Touche, Blue Eyes.”

She stood up, and stretched “Now, the day has ended, and it is time to retire.” She gestured to the door that I originally entered “I’ll show you to your room.”

I frowned.

Winter winked at me. “This way, Blue Eyes.” She waved her hand for me to follow her. She pulled the door open, and then headed down the stairs.

“You walk these stairs everyday?” I asked, as I followed her down the stairs.

“Yes. As will you.” Winter stated kindly. “As do the guards, the Empress, the Princess, and as you saw with our meals, the other servants.”

I hummed, as we fell into a comfortable silence.

Winter lead my down the stairs. Once we reached the bottom, instead of heading through the door into the main throne room, Winter head left, and down a hallway. We passed several doors, guards, and other servants. Once we reached the end of the hall, Winter stopped and turned to me.

“This is my room.” She turned and opened the door.

Curiously, I followed her in.

The room had no windows, and had no decorations. There was a small wooded vanity against the far wall, and what, I guessed, was a closet adjacent to the vanity. I looked down, and noticed that the floor was covered in moss.

However, I noticed that there were two beds. One bed was a large queen-size bed with several pillows and soft covered blankets. I was next to the vanity.

The other was next to me, and…

“Wait… that’s my cot from my village.” I said in shock, as I did a double-take. “How…?”

Winter smiled, as she removed her hood. “The Empress sent for it once you agreed to protect the Princess.”

“Why is it in your room?” I asked, still in shock.

“I…” Winter blushed. “Didn’t want you be alone. Especially on your first night.” She looked down at her feet, which, I no noticed, were bare. “Are you upset?”

“No. Merely surprised.” I said, as I removed my sword and belt, and placed it on my cot. “Pleasantly surprised.”

I sat on my bed, and looked at Winter. “So…?”

“Oh, I haven’t forgotten my promise, Blue Eyes.” Winter said, as she removed her robe. Under it, she was wearing a short kimono, similar to mine. As She opened the door, which turned out to be a large walk-in closet, and walked in, Winter hummed a soft, yet, oddly familiar tune.

“Winter…” I said, in a near pleading voice, “Please…”

Winter came out of her closet, and closed the door. “Blue eyes…” She said, as she also removed her cloth covering her left eye.

It was white, and well, had an eye shaped rune.

She smiled. “Yes, Blue Eyes, we are from the same village. Clearly, as we have the same skin. I know were are from two different tribes. Yours had blue, and mine had magenta. Or, rather, Yours were a warrior class, and mine where mages.”

I stared at her in shock and awe.

“I would imagine, that like me, you have no memories of your life? Before you were found by you village?” Winter asked.

I squeaked in response. “H-how? How do you know of our… clans if you have no memory of them?”

Winter sat on my cot next to me. “I told you, Blue Eyes. I am a mage.” She placed her hands on either side of my face. “I can show you glimpses.”

The rune in her eye glowed and suddenly, my eyes rolled back into head.

Warriors dressed in black…

Wizards in white and pink… casting spells…

Damascus blades slashing through the air…

Flames…

Flashes of blue light…

My eyes snapped back and I gasped in pain and shock.

“What was that, Winter?” I managed to ask, as I tried to regain my bearings. “Those lights…”

“I do not know, Blue Eyes.” Winter answered, as she stroked my hair “I… those… are all I can remember. As I said, you garb, your sword… were the same as those warriors you saw. As for the mages… do I not fit that description as well?”

I nodded. “We are… I mean, are we Kin?”

“Are you asking if we are related?” Winter asked. “I do not think we are.”

I took several deep breaths. “What of your eye?”

Winter, again, shook her head “I can only guess… from the glimpses, I suppose, it is a mark of a mage.”

I nodded in response. “I suppose that makes sense.” I looked at my right hand and examined the different colours. “Do you know why my skin has those light patches, and yours doesn’t?”

“Do you know how you… know those patches happen?” Winter asked in return.

“Yes. Kinda.” I answered “They appear whenever I injure myself. The woman whom raised me, Mama Hen, explained that when I get a cut, or scrape, the skin surrounding the injury, loses it’s pigment for… some reason.”

“I see.” Winter said in understanding, “But, to answer your previous question, no, Blue Eyes, my skin does not have those patches as yours dose.”

She stood up from my cot, ans walked over to the chest at the foot of her bed. “I have something for you, Blue eyes.” She opened the chest, and gestured for me to come over.

My interest piqued, I too stood from my cot, and walked over to the chest.

“I returned to where our village was, Blue Eyes.” Winter explained “I found some items that you might find useful…”

I looked into chest ans gasped. Inside the chest, was a handle for a sword. I was solid brass, wrapped in high quality brown leather. The pommel and guard were shaped like moving clouds. Underneath the pommel was a black kimono, trimmed with gold.

Winter smiled. “Notice that the handle doesn’t have a blade?”

I nodded. “Yeah… why doesn’t it?”

Winter picked up the handle. “Because, Dear Blue Eyes, this handle is for YOUR sword.”

I blinked in confusion. “But… my sword HAS a handle.”

Winter shook her head “That handle is not the original handle for your sword, is it.”

I looked at my sword, sitting comfortably on my hip. “I guess… not?” I looked Winter in the eyes. “I don’t remember much about the day my village found me.”

Winter held out the handle for me to take. “Here, Blue Eyes.”

I took the handle from her, and gasped. It felt… like it was made for my hand. “It fits my hand… perfectly. Much better than my current handle.”

Winter smiled. “If you want, while you try on the kimono, I will replace the handle on you sword.”

I pursed my lips in thought. I didn’t like other touching my sword, but since I didn’t have the skill to  I really had no choice

“Well… okay.” I said hesitantly, as I removed my sword from my belt, and handed it to Winter. I also gave the brass handle back to her as well. “Just be careful. Okay?”

Winter smiled. “I will.” She pointed to the closet. “You may change in there-”

She stopped talking, as I began to disrobe in front of her.

“B-blue Eyes?” She stammered as she blushed.

I frowned. “What? I’m not naked…” I said, as I gestured to the modesty bandages across my breasts and the undergarments covering my lower half.

Winter seemed to by transfixed by my slim, yet toned, body. “You are… very fit, Blue Eyes.”

I giggled as I pulled the new kimono out of the chest, and started to put it on. “Thank you, Winter.” I gasped as she suddenly placed her right hand on my abs and stroked them slowly.

“I apologize, Blue Eyes… I just…” She quickly removed her hand. “Are you flexing?”

I shook mt head as I tied the kimono closed. “N-no. I -ahem- That’s just how I am.”

Winter blushed, turned away from me, and walked over to her vanity. “Erm, yes. I will… just… get to work.”

Not wanting to embarrass her further, I gathered up the rest of clothing from inside the chest, and walked into the closet. I quickly dressed, admiring the sheer quality and comfort of the fabric and how well it fit me.

Now dressed, fully, I exited the closet, and walked over to the still working Winter. “How do I look?”

Winter turned and blushed more. “I…” She pointed to the mirror. “See for yourself, Blue Eyes.”

I looked at the mirror, and gasped in shock. I hardly recognized myself. I looked… well, there was no other word for it. I looked professional and complete.

“Whoa…” I let out a breath. “I look good…”

Winter giggled, and stood up. “You do look good. Beautiful, even.” She gestured to her vanity. “And now… to complete the look, your sword is ready.”

I looked at the my sword, laying on the vanity. The new handle was now attached, with the old handle laying in pieces next to it. I also noticed that the scabbard, which was normally red, was now black.

“You painted my scabbard?” I asked.

Winter shook her head. “No. I replaced that as well.” She smiled. “I was not certain if the scabbard I found, along with those other relics, would fit you sword, so I did not mention it. I was, however, delighted when it did.”

I picked up my sword, and returned it to my hip. “I…” I stopped talking. I had to do SOMEthing to show her how much I appreciated all… of this.

I moved to her, and hugged her around her shoulders. I heard her let out a quiet gasp of shock, and then, I felt her hug me around my waist.

“Thank you Winter.” I whispered in her ear. “These gifts… are beyond anything I ever expected. Worth more to me than any amount of platinum…”

Winter giggled. She pulled away from me. “I am glad you think so, Blue Eyes, as I have to confess something…”

I looked confused. “More secrets?” I chuckled “I… don’t think I can handle any more.”

“Secrets?” Winter asked. “No… not mine. The Empress.”

“WHAT-” I began to exclaim. Winter quickly slapped her hand over my mouth.

“Shush.” She said sharply. “Keep your voice down.”

I nodded.

She removed her hand. “Thank you. Now… what I am about to tell you, I do not tell you easily.” She placed her index and middle fingers on both her temples, and massaged them. “I learned this secret with great difficulty, and I have lived with it for many months.”

I grabbed her shoulders. “What secret? Winter. Am I in danger? Are you?”

Tears sprang to her eyes. “Blue Eyes…” she shuddered “The Imperials… they were the ones that destroyed our village.”

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