#It's not clear but I was imagining their ghost forms as still looking young. Probably an important age for them or how they prefer to look.

[asjjohnson]

Immortality

(a ficlet written for Dannymay 2024 prompt 6: Immortal AU: What if Danny/Halfas couldn’t die?) Also on AO3.

---

He actually didn’t know whether halfas were immortal or just lived longer than humans.

Now at around age 140, give or take a few years (what year was it now? he could calculate it), Danny was an old man in his human form—wrinkled skin hanging from his arms and face like unironed fabric; hunched over to half his original height, bones grated down as though left exposed outside over the past decades; eyes milked over; ears inadequate despite their larger size; mind fogged.

He had no one to look to. A few years ago, or maybe a decade or two ago, he’d searched the Zone for any sign or rumor of the existence of other halfas. He wasn’t sure how long he’d searched, talking to distant ghosts, visiting places he never could have imagined existed, the Ghost Zone stretching on and on, toward infinity, before he’d given it up as a lost cause.

Vlad (though only a few years older than Danny and thus wouldn’t have been of much help anyhow) never returns to his human form. Had stopped living as a human altogether once he’d realized he was ‘growing old’.

Of course, this had been before Vlad was anywhere near an old man. Back when he’d only been about 60 years old. A few wrinkles and thinning hair, and his vanity and pride had had him abandoning his human half completely.

Not to the extreme of extracting that part of himself, of course—he had known better by that age—but of denying its existence; living solely as a ghost.

Danny had grown fond of humanity, however. The light touch of gravity, an embrace that kept him tethered to reality; the life found everywhere he looked, in the grass at his feet, in the air around him, or even just walking by him—so unlike the void of the Ghost Zone, the vast empty space with small pockets of ecto-life scattered across its depths; even the ache in his bones, the proof that he was alive, still belonging to this planet. It was all fondness.

Even as his senses continued to fade—the details of leaves and faces blurring even with thick glasses, the chittering of birds growing silent even with hearing aids, the difficulty of holding objects (connecting with the world around him) with pain and trembling hands—he clung ever more to the human world and its small wonders.

And though all his human friends from over a hundred years ago might be lost, he wasn’t alone.

They were still here.

Alive and well, living echoes seen in their grandchildren, great-grandchildren, great-great-grandchildren, and teenaged great-great-great-grandchildren. A town composed of familiar faces. And sometimes those echoes were so strong, he called someone by the wrong name.

Matilda wears a black shirt one day and, even with the pink floral patterns, Sam is so strong within her.

Derek tries out for football, and the way his smile pulls across his face is all Dash, even through the freckles and shaggy brown hair.

Nicky’s righteous glare is Valerie shining straight from his heart. Although the light in his eyes as he talks about psychology is all Jazz.

Danny was trying. Trying so hard to stay with them all, as they continued to live, fully alive, forever onward.

He didn’t know whether halfas were immortal.

[gong-fourz]

GHOSTLY TUTOR

Pairing: ghost!sungho x gn!reader Summary: you didn't believe in ghosts till he gives you a reason to. WC: 1k Genre: ghost!au, high school!au, fluff Nets: @blossomnet

taglist - m.list

You've never believed in ghosts. To you, they're nothing more than stories told to scare children around campfires or urban legends spread by bored teenagers. So when the whispers about the haunted library at your high school started circulating, you brushed them off as nonsense. You have more important things to worry about, like keeping your grades up and preparing for college.

It's a chilly Friday evening, and you're in the library, your books and notes spread out in front of you. The school is eerily quiet, the usual bustling hallways now deserted. The librarian, has already gone home, leaving you alone to study. You don't mind the silence; in fact, you relish it. It's the perfect environment to focus on your work without any distractions.

As you dive into your chemistry notes, the dim lighting casting long shadows across the room, you suddenly hear a soft whisper. It's so faint that you think you might have imagined it. You pause, listening intently. There it is again, a barely audible murmur, like someone whispering just out of earshot.

Your heart skips a beat. You remind yourself that you don't believe in ghosts. The stories about the library being haunted are just that—stories. Probably a prank by some of your classmates. Determined not to let your imagination get the better of you, you try to return to your studies. But the whispers persist, growing slightly louder, more insistent.

Curiosity and a hint of trepidation take hold. You stand up, glancing around the library. It's vast and filled with towering bookshelves that create a labyrinth of literature. You start to walk slowly through the aisles, the wooden floor creaking under your feet. The whispers seem to be coming from somewhere deeper in the library.

"Hello?" you call out, your voice echoing softly. There's no response, only the continued murmuring. You follow the sound, weaving through the shelves, your pulse quickening with each step.

The whispers lead you to a secluded corner of the library, a section filled with old, dusty books that look like they haven't been touched in years. You can feel the temperature drop as you approach. There's an uncanny stillness in the air, making the hairs on the back of your neck stand up.

"Who's there?" you ask, your voice trembling slightly.

The whispers stop abruptly. For a moment, there's complete silence. Then, a book falls from a shelf with a soft thud. You jump, your heart pounding in your chest. You pick up the book, and as you do, you notice a name etched into the cover: Sungho.

"Sungho?" you whisper to yourself, puzzled.

"Yes," a voice answers softly, almost directly into your ear.

You spin around, but there's no one there. The library is empty, yet the presence is palpable. You feel a chill run down your spine. Gathering your courage, you speak again.

"Sungho? Who are you?"

The air around you seems to shift, and suddenly, a figure begins to materialize in front of you. He's a young man, around your age, with an old-fashioned school uniform and a gentle, almost sad expression on his face. His form is translucent, shimmering slightly in the dim light.

"I'm Sungho," he says, his voice soft but clear. "I used to be a student here, many years ago."

You stare at him, your mind racing. This can't be real, you think, but there he is, standing right in front of you. A ghost.

"What happened to you?" you ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

Sungho sighs, looking down at his feet. "I died here, in this library. It was an accident, but I've been trapped here ever since."

Your heart aches for him. "Why haven't you moved on?"

"I don't know," he replies, looking up at you with pleading eyes. "I've tried, but something keeps me here. Maybe it's unfinished business, maybe it's something else. I just want to be free."

You can't believe what you're hearing, but the sincerity in his voice compels you to help. "How can I help you?"

Sungho's expression brightens slightly. "There's a book, one that contains the answer to my release. I've been searching for it for years, but I can't touch it. It's hidden somewhere in this library."

You nod, determined. "I'll help you find it."

Together, you search through the shelves, pulling out books and examining them. Sungho guides you, his knowledge of the library's layout proving invaluable. Hours pass, but you're fueled by a strange mixture of fear and compassion. You can't imagine what it must be like to be trapped like this.

Finally, you come across an old, leather-bound book with no title. Sungho's eyes light up when he sees it.

"That's it," he says, his voice filled with hope. "Open it."

You carefully open the book, revealing pages filled with strange symbols and incantations. As you read aloud, a soft glow begins to emanate from the pages. Sungho closes his eyes, a look of peace washing over his face.

"Thank you," he whispers, his form becoming more transparent.

"Will this set you free?" you ask, your heart pounding.

"Yes," he replies. "You've done more for me than I can ever repay. Thank you."

With that, Sungho's form fades, the whispering ceasing as he finally finds peace. The library feels different now, warmer, as if a heavy weight has been lifted.

You stand there for a moment, the book still in your hands, processing everything that just happened. You can hardly believe it, but the sense of fulfillment and calm in the room tells you it was real.

You place the book back on the shelf, a bittersweet smile on your face. You came here to study, but you ended up helping a soul find peace. As you gather your things and leave the library, you feel a newfound appreciation for the stories and rumors that once seemed so silly. Some of them, it turns out, hold more truth than you ever imagined.

From that day on, whenever you hear whispers about the haunted library, you smile to yourself, knowing that Sungho is no longer bound to this world, thanks to your help. And maybe, just maybe, you start to believe in ghosts a little more.

[izzysillyhandsy]

It's only suicide if we die

... and Izzy's second suicide was planned to set Ed free.

I've loved the wonderful lyrics of Seabird in connection with Ed and Izzy since Ep5, but they fit even better now

with my completely unhinged

Izzy died for Ed theory (but he might not be dead at all).

I think somewhere around Ep6, Izzy realized that both of them could never be truly free while the other was still around (and they tried so hard to untangle themselves!).

Suddenly, you're with me I turn, and you're not there Like a ghost, you haunt me

Even though they hadn't interacted much after the breakup, Izzy still got to Ed via Stede. He just couldn't keep away.

This world isn't big enough To keep me away from you

Izzy realized that to heal, Ed had to completely let go of his old life, and his old life didn't only include Izzy - it was Izzy.

So Izzy had to die.

Like an untied dog You just had to run Seabird, seabird Fly home

But - and this is the unhinged part - I think it's not completely impossible that Izzy isn't dead at all - it was just really important for Ed to think that he was.

Is this crazily overdramatic? YES. But have you met these two?

Izzy doesn't let Ed see his wound. Ed even says "It's not even that bad" trying to have a look, but Izzy "Stop stop"-s him and starts with "Eddie" which completely distracts Ed.

Then Izzy says exactly what Ed needs to hear from him to be able to move on.

Everything was Izzy's fault. He fed the darkness. Blackbeard isn't Ed's true personality like Ed feared - it's them. Without Izzy, Ed is good now. He is ready for "true Ed" to come out again ("Just be Ed. There he is.").

Izzy leaves willingly ("I wanna go") to absolve Ed from guilt.

"Eddie's surrounded by family" as opposed to relying on Izzy and Izzy alone for love (I can imagine a very young Izzy saying to a very young Ed: "I'm your family now"). He's not unloveable, he never was.

Izzy dies.

Ed is finally free (at least that's what Izzy thinks. I don't agree. But this is maybe a topic for another post)

But how on earth is he not dead?

Well I don't know! He probably is. They've buried him after all.

Still -

the shooting scene was weird. No blood, no bullet going in, Izzy just standing there (there was enough time to somehow react when Ricky pushed him back).

noone checked the wound, everybody stayed right back except for Ed who was distracted by Izzy.

Am I clinging to straws here? Yes.

But, even if Izzy died, everything else is still valid. It's just much, much more tragic and fucked up. Izzy Hands, living his life for others, finally dying for another to have at least a shot at happiness.

But I still hope this isn't that kind of a show. I am quite confident Izzy will return in some shape or form (Buttons is such a clear symbol for rebirth, and he was put there for exactly that reason).

Conclusion

Izzy lives. Change my mind. No, don't. Please.

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

Here are the complete lyrics:

Ed:

There's a road I know I must go Even though I tell myself That road is closed Listen, lonely seabird You've been away from land too long

Izzy:

I don't listen to the news no more Like an unwound clock You just don't seem to care This world isn't big enough To keep me away from you

Both:

Suddenly, you're with me I turn, and you're not there Like a ghost, you haunt me You find warmth in a one-night bed

Izzy again:

Sunsets, full moons Don't turn you on Like an untied dog You just had to run

Seabird, seabird Fly home

[teecupangel]

Typical Desmond goes back in time after touching the eye but he turns into a ghost, kinda cool if he can change forms

I’m not sure what you mean by change form. Like… he can turn into ghost animals or he can turn into different dead people?

Or is this like he has a nearly transparent form that’s wearing his old clothes then he has his ‘dead form’ which is a ghostly visage of how his corpse looked after he died?

It could work regardless of which you pick, I guess?

You know what would be fun?

If we were going for the Ghost film ghost rules.

Only one person could see Desmond and that person isn’t his ancestor. So this means he has to coordinate and get the trust of another person to help his ancestor.

Possible Candidates:

Altaïr

Let’s be honest, the first person we thought of was Malik XD and it would be fun because Malik could believe that Desmond may or may not have been Altaïr’s dead twin brother and Malik ‘hates’ Altaïr but Desmond is sweet and nice and it’s clear he’s trying to do the right thing so… Malik has to suffer thru helping Altaïr for Desmond.

It would be fun if it was Kadar though. Like, Desmond does some kind of ghost thingie and that keeps Kadar alive, maybe they’re sharing the same life (kinda like Lydia and Captain from GBF), and since this is a Kadar who had died because of Altaïr’s rash decisions, Desmond needs to try and repair Kadar’s broken trust for Altaïr among other things.

Okay, hear me out. Adha is also a possible recipient. Hell, we don’t know what the fuck the Chalice thing was meant to be anyway so what if the whole Chalice thing was because Adha was the perfect ‘vessel’ for Desmond to connect to. Desmond doesn’t know who Adha is, not really, Altaïr’s memories about her that Desmond received were vague af so he’s flying blind and Adha thinks he’s some djinn with clairvoyance skills. She agrees to help because it was clear he was trying to help Altaïr and… Desmond is totally unsure how all of these would play out since he was helping Adha survive her inevitable death as well.

If you want to fuck with Desmond, Abbas is right there. Desmond would definitely have a hard time getting the cooperation of the person who hates Altaïr the most XD

Ezio

Petruccio would be the best ‘candidate’ of all of Ezio’s siblings. His fragile body could be connected to why he’s able to see and talk to Desmond (and just imagine the angst when Desmond believes that Petruccio could see him because he already has one foot in the grave). This idea would give us Desmond acting as an older brother and character development for Petruccio.

Wanna make it fun? Lucrezia Borgia would be a fun candidate. Make Desmond the only person who sees Lucrezia as something more than what her family wishes her to be which leads to her running away from the Borgias and becoming an Assassin under Desmond. Desmond did not plan for any of it. He was just trying to get Lucrezia to see reason and help him get in contact with Ezio XD

Ratonhnhaké:ton

Of course, Kaniehtí:io is on the top of the candidate list because we all want her to survive. We could even make Desmond appear to her after Ratonhnhaké:ton is conceived and he could act more like a friend and sorta ghostly parent to Ratonhnhaké:ton. Kaniehtí:io would still probably push Haytham away even if Desmond tries to stop her, asking him if he really thinks that Haytham, as he is right now, could change and let go of the darkness in his eyes. Desmond is unable to answer her because, as much as he wants to give Ratonhnhaké:ton a happier life, he personally doesn’t believe Haytham could change. He’s loyal to the Templar cause and Desmond shares Kaniehtí:io’s fear that letting Haytham stay would ‘corrupt’ Ratonhnhaké:ton.

Kanen'tó:kon would be a fun candidate and, with Desmond being there as his ‘ghostly advisor’, Desmond has a chance to stop the tragedy that would force Ratonhnhaké:ton to kill Kanen'tó:kon in self-defense. Also, depending on how young Desmond connects with Kanen'tó:kon, this might end with Kanen'tó:kon also becoming an Assassin.

[shirophantomvox]

Analyzing Kars' Character

Hello everyone! FYI I am not ignoring your requests. I have tried for a week to get them finished and I keep losing motivation. Then I had the brilliant idea of writing something else about an interesting topic and then I’ll be able to finish a few requests! Today’s post is another character analysis. This is still a multi-fandom blog; you will see content related to other shows besides Voltron. Today’s character analysis is on Kars, the 10,000-year-old vampire. That’s funny. He, Allura, and Coran are the same age!

Overview

I watched JoJo’s Bizarre Adventures about a month ago when I became frustrated that there were only 4 seasons of Hunter x Hunter on Netflix. Remember the scene in the election arc when the citizens were casting their votes for chairperson and Hisoka walked up with his arms forming an “S”? Many people were posing the question of it being a “JoJo’s” reference and for the life of me, I never understood what they were talking about. Finally, I watched the show for the first time and by season 2 I could understand what they were saying.

I have to admit that by the second episode I was bored because the nature of season one took place in the 1800s England and nothing exciting happened. Though I worked my way through a few more episodes. I noticed a creepy stone mask on the way and how it never fell unless blood was splattered on it. I concluded the mask was going to play the role of an antagonist or help the antagonist succeed. Although this post is about Kars, I would like to take a moment and say that Jonathan’s death was very heart wrenching and it made me angry. Jonathan was unnecessarily nice to Dio and living in a privileged bubble lead to his demise. Jonathan was stronger than Dio and he should have kicked his ass once and for all. Have you noticed that after Joseph’s father, all JoJo’s (at least until season 5) could beat the antagonist in the show?

Anyway, the mask is a key tool in the bizarre adventures that each protagonist experiences.

Kars is a 10,000-year-old vampire that designed the Stone Mask and is essentially responsible for the horrific events that have happened throughout history. Dio being turned into a merciless vampire and his minions resulted from the Stone Mask. After discovering that he and his people could not be out in the sun, he concluded he needed the Red Stone of Aja to complete his transformation. Lisa-Lisa, a 50-year-old human woman, has possession of the stone given by her foster father Straizo. Kars, along with the 3 remaining Pilar Men (Wamuu, Esidsi, and Santana, can only survive in the sun if they two wear the mask with the Red Stone of Aja. After awakening, it is quite clear that Kars is on a mission to retrieve the stone and will destroy anything in his way. He was the only one wanting to live a life outside of the darkness. This was the driving force of creating so many Stone Masks and later discovering the need for the Red Stone of Aja. Kars understood the mask would only work on him partially because of his larger skull size, aka body manipulation. This created an increase in hunger. The Pillar Men did not like this at all and sought to eliminate him so he could not ruin the flow of nature. Kars retaliated; he murdered 99% of his people only leaving his friend Esidsi, and two children known as Santana and Wamuu.

Kars’ character is very interesting. A dog was about to have its life ended because of drunk drivers. I don’t know if this struck a nerve in his soul, but Kars nearly cut off the driver’s head, causing them to crash their car and the puppy was saved. After being defeated by Joseph the first time, he landed at the end of a snowy cliff, making sure he did not land on a few daisies. Given these unique interactions with nature and secondary species, Kars has some vendetta against humans. What did they do to him or his people for him to care only about flowers and animals but want to wipe out Harmon users? He insists that Lisa-Lisa drink poison instead of fighting her. Fighting women is something he and Wamuu don’t take pleasure in doing. When I heard this for the first time, I didn’t know if that was something to be proud of or if he was being misogynistic (you know the stereotypical view society has about women). Even if he genuinely did not want to lay a finger on Lisa-Lisa or any woman, his intentions are very questionable. He mimics politeness. If Kars offered to pay for dinner or a drink, run. Just run because if you don’t, you’ll probably be turned into a vampire or be eaten alive.

This is off topic but I wanted to pose this scenario. After watching Battle Tendency for the 10th time, I always like to bring out the “soft” side in villains. Being a sucker for Fluff isn’t helpful. I know that’s defeating the purpose of villains and antagonists, but I can’t help and wonder how it would show in Kars. As I’ve previously stated, Kars seems to care for animals and plants more than humans...so there’s a soft spot somewhere in there. I had a rather amusing and odd thought involving Kars and Lisa-Lisa. Since Lisa-Lisa is the leader over Caesar and Joseph and Kars is the leader over the remain few Pillar Men, I can’t help but wonder how they’d react to each other. When Lisa-Lisa is ordered by Kars to stay at their hideout while Joseph retrieved the Stone, I know she didn’t stand there like a statue for nearly 12 hours. I imagine Kars offering a drink, water, or juice just to get her talking. I mean, she has to warm up to him or it’s going to be a horrible 12 hours. Then he’ll try to engage in conversation and will only try to flirt with her to see how she responds. He may make a comment about how clear her skin is, how perfect her makeup stays intact, or how her legs look better than his (well, duh, you’re 9,950 years older than her!). This way, he can exploit anything he deems as a weakness, but she is a smart woman. She would reveal nothing about her that could be used against her. As OOC as this seems, it could be something he’d do. Remember, he mimics politeness; he has a trick up his sleeve. Although that may be true, at the back of his mind, he really admires how young and enchanting she looks.

Although Esidsi, Wamuu, and Santana are Pillar Men, they are ancient humanoid superhuman beings who lived on the American continent. They have supernatural abilities that leave them invincible while the sun is down. They look similar to humans, but they are much bigger and muscular. Among the 3 remaining Pillar Men, I seem to gravitate to Kars than the others. Before you judge me, I’ll explain. Kars, like many male characters in this anime and others, has a unique character design. Contrary to popular belief, I like Kars better in his head wrap or while he is wearing his hat and cape. That outfit reminds me of a ghost/monster from the remastered Scooby-Doo series in the 70s. The one thing in particular that stood out to me was his eye shadow and mascara. The earrings didn’t surprise me as every time I draw my male characters, they automatically get a pair of earrings. While being physically fit, he can make ANYTHING look excellent!

Just like any villain, Kars and Joseph are equally arrogant and can exploit their opponent’s weaknesses against them. Making jokes about Lisa-Lisa while she is unconscious nearly sets him over the edge and while Kars thinks he has defeated Joseph, he is launched into space.

Last but not least, I noticed how the first two protagonists form an unusual bond with their enemies. As many of you have seen, Dio calls Jonathan JoJo but does not acknowledge Joseph or Jotaro in the same way. He does twice towards Jotaro but not after that. Kars refers to Joseph as JoJo and I have to believe that even if he knew his real name, he’d still refer to him as JoJo. Wamuu stated that fighting Jospeh was worth his time as he did not waste it and fight fairly. Throughout their battles, they somehow remind me of childish games with the name-calling and all. I wish Kars was not a “onetime” villain. I wish he could roll over to the next season. This is a preference, as I hate seasonal villains, like Chrollo Lucilfer or anyone similar.

If you’ve made it this far, thank you for reading!

[mckennamayfairgoode]

I Take Flight but You Hold Me

Wilhemina Venable x Reader

Word Count: 7k

Summary: You hate her. You hate the way she makes you feel, you hate the way you can’t get her out of your mind, you hate the way she makes you burn. You hate her, but you think maybe you could love her too.

Warnings: Brief mentions of past toxic relationships. Slight NSFW. Angst? Yes. Yearning? Haha, no of course not….. 👀 Also, yes. 

A/N: I’m supposed to be working on a fluffy Ally piece, but I love this song so much and all it does is make me think of Mina. So this happened instead. 🤷‍♀️ Writing her and trying to capture that snarkiness with the underlying insecurity was very difficult. But I think it came out okay.

Song: To Be Loved by Askjell (ft. AURORA)

You’d seen Wilhemina Venable before: walking through the hallways of Kineros Robotics, her cane tapping rhythmically against the ground in a way that insured others kept a wide berth; sitting outside on a picnic table during her lunch hour, always at the same table, the same space, facing the sidewalk, always, always; once, even, as you stepped out of the elevator to the parking garage at the end of the day. 

She’d stood ramrod straight next to her car, one hand gripping the head of her cane and the other fidgeting with her keys. Something inside you had tugged insistently and you had slowed to a stop, your gaze drawn to the fingerless gloves she wore. They were made of a dark purple leather that covered her slender hands all the way to the first knuckle. Her nails were short and unpainted and for some reason, you couldn’t stop staring.

Someone cleared their throat, breaking your trance and causing you to jerk back as if suddenly woken from a daydream. You looked up and met dark eyes. They were deep and brown and furious. She wore a scowl on her face, one you recognized easily as you’d seen it often enough when you passed her in the corridor. “Don’t you have somewhere to be instead of staring at me with that idiotic look on your face?” she snapped and you realized, in all your time working there, you had never heard her speak. 

Your face growing uncomfortably warm, you had muttered a vague apology under your breath as you darted past her and into the direction of your car. Her voice had been nice. Low and husky with a slight rasp that gave you goosebumps. You tried not to think about how you could feel her eyes on your back.

You went home that night and lay in your bed and tried to ignore the heat coiled low in your belly. But your thoughts ran rampant in your mind, pulling and twisting into versions of her you had yet to see. You wondered, if when she touched you, whether she would take those gloves off or keep them on so that all you could feel were her fingertips. You wondered if she would speak to you, low and husky and warm. You wondered if her bite would sting.

The thought burned you from the inside out.

--

The next week, your boss retired and you were granted a promotion. You were excited at first. A better job meant better pay, but now, as you stand in front of Wilhemina Venable’s desk, you think maybe it’s not all that worth it after all. 

“I don’t have time to sit here and indulge in your little exercise. Unlike some people in this establishment, I have actual work to do,” she says, tapping at her computer and not bothering to spare you a glance. Like you are less interesting than a fly she has to swat away. The notion churns in your gut, twisting your insides unpleasantly. You resist the urge to shift on your feet, knowing that she will catch the motion in the corner of her eye and latch onto it like a dog with a bone. She is an apex predator always looking for weaknesses she can exploit. You refuse to show her any.

“This ‘little exercise’ comes down from Jeff and Mutt. Spending time with you isn’t exactly on my list of priorities,” you snap and you blink and you wonder where it came from.

Her motions cease, fingertips hovering over her keyboard. You try to ignore the way your gaze lingers on her hands. “Is that so?” She looks up then, suddenly meeting your eyes. You want to look away, to move, but you feel frozen in place. They are so brown. Her words are sharp when she speaks. “Do you not recall the gaping fish impression you showed me in the parking garage last week?” 

“I wasn’t gaping,” you retort, neck warming. You hope she can’t see. The flick of her eyes to your ears tells you she can. 

Venable gives you a blank look. “Of course not. Because that would imply that the space between your ears is filled with more than just hot air.” The words get under your skin. They rake across the sensitivity of your nerves and coil around your very being and sink into your bones and you hate it. A part of you thinks you could hate her.

Your spine feels like it might snap as you stand up straight, tension lining the squared edge of your shoulders. “Ms. Venable, we really need to discuss these layoffs,” you say, hoping that professionalism will get through to her so you can go on about your day pretending that she doesn’t set your soul on fire.

She arches a single dark brow, pursing her lips. “What layoffs?”

“I’ve been looking at the account ledgers. We’re overstaffed.”

Venable tilts her head, studying your face. “And what is someone with the brain capacity of a park squirrel doing looking at our accounts?”

Your jaw flexes as you grit your teeth. “That’s my job.”

“Since when?”

“Since three days ago when the head of finance retired.”

“Oh really? And they chose you to replace him?” She clicks her tongue, lips pursing once more. They’re a plum color. You silently reprimand yourself for noticing. “I can’t imagine why. It’s clear you have no capacity for intelligence, no work ethic, and not enough brain cells to do it yourself.”

Heat washes through you like an ocean’s surf. “You’re HR,” you retort.

Her fist clenches around the top end of her cane, those damned leather gloves creaking beneath the force of it. “And you’re finance. As far as I’m concerned, if it weren’t for your department, we wouldn’t be in this mess to begin with.” She locks eyes with you for one long moment that makes your breath catch. You force yourself to remain still and curse the fight or flight instinct inside you that’s telling you to run, that she is a danger, that if you look directly at her, you will be turned to stone. “Figure it out,” she demands, voice clipped. Then she drops her eyes and returns her gaze to the screen of her computer.

You resist the overwhelming urge to shove everything off her desk and demand her attention, her time, her respect. Your body burns with anger and humiliation and the need to know what her gloves would feel like against your bare skin, but you smother it down and squash it beneath your foot like a lit cigarette into the pavement of a sidewalk. You turn and walk away and listen as the same rhythmic tapping from before resumes as if you had never been there at all.

You feel her eyes on you as you leave, but when you turn to look, all you can see is the top of her head. It was just your imagination, you tell yourself. The piece of you that spent a better part of a year being aware of any and all movement tells you that isn’t true. This isn’t the first time you’ve been in the sights of a predator.

However, it is the first time you find yourself hoping that you are.

--

Later that night, you still sit hunched over your desk, finalizing the changes you made to the account ledgers. You don’t know what time it is. All you know is that the sun had gone down long ago, that your back will probably hurt in the morning, that you’re exhausted and your brain is running on fumes, but also that you need to finish. Just a little more time, and you can save these people and their jobs. Maybe a part of you wants to show Venable that you can do it too. She doesn’t believe you can. So you will.

You hear her coming before you see her. The building is completely void of life except for the janitor who came by to greet you a few minutes or an hour ago, you’re not sure. The steady tapping of her cane against the pristine flooring echoes in the empty space around you. You look at your computer, save your progress, and wait.

She appears in your doorway like a ghost draped in lavender. Her pale skin and bright red hair stand out from the shadows like the highlights in an oil painting. You will yourself to look away, but find that you can’t. She raises her eyebrows at the sight of you. “You’re still here.” It’s not a question.

You bristle at the tone of her voice and sit up in your chair. You want to cross your arms, but don't; you don’t want her to think you’re being defensive. She will only see it as an act of war and you are too tired to battle with her tonight. Maybe tomorrow you will adorn your sword and shield and finish what you started, but tonight... Tonight, you just want to look at the stars in her eyes. “I had some things to finish up,” you say once you finally find your voice.

Venable hums, her eyes raking over your form in a way that is not comforting at all. Her path raises goosebumps along your skin. You tell yourself not to blush, and bite back a curse when you do. You search her form for a reason to break the tense silence between you when you notice the folder she holds between her fingers. “What is that?” You nod to the item in question. 

She glances down at it as if she forgot she was holding it in the first place before extending it out for you to take. “It’s a list of low level employees.”

You rifle through the papers and recognize several of the names. People you know, people who work under you, people who trust you. There’s the janitor who always checks on you when you work late and the security guard at the front desk who greets you every morning by name and the young woman who used to work in the cubicle next to yours before you were promoted. Her name is Maria and she has a daughter. You know because there’s a picture on her desk of a little girl with a gap-toothed smile. Your stomach churns unpleasantly. “So those you deem expendable.” You can’t help the bitter tone to your voice. 

Venable catches on if the slight raise of her eyebrow is anything to go by. “They’re replaceable,” she says simply. 

You shake your head and with a flick of your wrist, toss the file back onto your desk. It slides to a stop back in front of her. “I don’t need it.”

She blinks once, twice. “What?” She watches as you stand and begin to gather your belongings. “What do you mean you ‘don’t need it’? Unless you simply tossed them from the window, someone still needs to be fired. Don’t tell me you’re that incompetent,” she scoffs.

You grab your bag by the strap and throw it over your shoulder. “I figured it out,” you respond, voice bitter and words sharp like knives. You refuse to be prey, to roll over until your belly is exposed and your weaknesses are aired out for the whole world to see. Not again. Especially not for her.

Just as you’re about to march out the door, she grabs your arm. You freeze in place. You think you both do. The tips of her bare fingers brush the inside of your wrist and you wonder why your skin burns when her hands are so cold. You can’t think, you can’t breathe, you can only stand there and wonder if she can feel the rhythm of your heartbeat beneath her fingertips. Does it speak to her? Does she understand? Does she want to?

You lock eyes. One long, impenetrable moment passes between you and you hate that you can’t tell what she’s thinking, you hate that she has your heart in her grip, you hate her, you hate her, you hate her. She blinks and the sharp glint in her gaze returns. You snatch your wrist back before she can say something that poisons your soul. You flee your office like it’s on fire. But it’s not your office that’s on fire. It’s you.

--

When you’re alone, you think about her. You chastise yourself, force the thoughts away, but eventually, like the tide rolling in, they always, always come back. It is infuriating. You don’t really know this woman, and the things you do know are nothing good. She is selfish and entitled, cruel and hateful, and worst of all, she makes you burn without ever having touched you a single time.

The sound of the bell jingling above the door yanks you abruptly from your thoughts and you resist the urge to sigh out loud as you realize, once again, where your mind has gone. You tighten your grip on your book, forcing yourself to concentrate on the words but only managing to repeat them several times as they don’t sink in like they should. You’re vaguely aware of a familiar thumping sound growing steadily closer and it’s not until it stops at your side that you realize what it is. Or rather, who it is. You look up to see dark brown eyes already staring down at you.

“You’re in my chair,” she says before you can even work up the courage to speak.

You blink. “Excuse me?” For a moment, you’re reminded of the picnic table she sits at during her lunch hour. The same table, the same space, facing the sidewalk, always, always.

“I know it’s hard for you to comprehend the English language, but if you could summon all of your brain cells to at least try, I’m sure society would thank you.” Venable looks at you disdainfully, her eyes flicking to the open collar of your shirt and then down to the book clasped in your hands. “Lord knows I won’t,” she mutters. 

You bristle at her tone, at her words, at her everything. “This is a public space, Wilhemina.” She blinks owlishly at your use of her first name and taps her cane against the ground, just once, before settling both of her hands on top of it. It is a warning you ignore. “You don’t own this chair or this table or this cafe. I’m sure you can find another seat.” With that said, you turn back to your book, intending to ignore her further.

It works… until you hear the scraping of a chair against the floor and you glance up just in time to see her easing into the space across from you. She pulls a book out of her bag and sets it on the table, but does not open it. She looks at you instead, her eyes cold and calculating as she tries to size you up. You could imagine the gears in her head turning but you decide you don’t want to see inside her mind. If you did, you don’t think you’d make it out alive. “I don’t recall asking you to take a seat,” you comment pointedly. Your body hums at her close proximity and it drives you mad.

“I don’t recall asking for permission,” she snaps back. You huff, but concede her point and avert your gaze, anything to keep yourself from looking into her eyes. “I’ve never seen you here before,” she says. 

“That’s because I’ve never been here before,” you retort under your breath, looking at the words on the page but not reading them. 

“Then why?”

“Why what?”

“Why are you here? In my chair?”

You sigh and close your book. “How exactly is it your chair?”

“It’s my table.” Her response is spoken with the conviction of someone who thinks they are always right. Your nostrils flare in annoyance. Venable’s eyes are intense and endless as she studies you like you are a science marvel she can’t figure out and it makes you uncomfortable, like you’re nothing more than an experiment under a microscope. She tilts her head, the motion causing her bright red ponytail to fall over one shoulder. 

Your eyes travel the length of it and you’re suddenly gripped with the urge to free it from it’s restraint. You want to see it draped over her bare shoulders or formed into a halo around her head. You want to know what it would look like in the morning, in the earliest rays of sunlight, if it would hurt your eyes to see. You swallow the ball in your throat. “What?”

She rolls her eyes. “You didn’t answer my question. Why are you here?”

You raise your eyebrows and fold your hands around your coffee cup, allowing the warmth to seep into your skin, your bones, eager to feel anything other than the burn inside you. “I just moved down the street from here,” you answer absentmindedly, watching as a man pulls out a chair for the woman in his company. She smiles up at him, warm and real. She’s in love with him, you think. You can see it in her eyes.

“Why?”

You sigh. "Why do you care?” 

She laughs and it startles you so much that you turn to watch it leave her lips. It lights up her face but it is not right. It is cold and harsh and cruel. You wonder if this is what the gods hear before they are smote and sentenced to a mortal life on Earth. “Care?” She laughs again, and shakes her head as if the thought alone is one she wishes to physically knock from her head. “Don’t be ridiculous. I merely wish to know if this will be a common occurrence.”

Frustration bubbles up in your chest and you hate, hate, hate how she can get under your skin. You will not give her the satisfaction of watching you break. You shrug indifferently. “Considering this is the closest coffee place to my apartment, probably.” She looks peeved and you preen a bit like a proud peacock for finally making her feel something other than indifference. You stand up to leave.

“Wait,” she stops you. She doesn’t move; she doesn’t have to when your body ceases all movement as soon as she speaks. That fact alone fills you with dread. You watch in amazement as she shifts uncomfortably in her seat. She flicks her ponytail back over her shoulder and lifts her chin. “You don’t have to leave.”

For the second time in less than an hour, you feel yourself become speechless. “What?”

She rolls her eyes, runs the tip of her index finger absentmindedly along the spine of her worn, hardback novel. “Stay,” she says. She sniffs then, as if allergic to kindness. “If you’d like.”

You meet her eyes, briefly, intensely, too long and not long enough. It feels like a trap. Your brain throws mental hazard signs all around for you to see, bright flashing lights and neon letters that read ‘DANGER, DANGER! DEAD END; TURN AROUND BEFORE IT’S TOO LATE.’ You don’t. “Okay,” you find yourself saying. You sit back down in your seat, pull your book closer to your chest and resume where you left off. Your eyes dart back to her figure and you watch from across the table as Venable does the same. 

Silence settles between you like a blanket. It is warm and comforting and still, you burn.

--

The next week, Venable comes into the coffee shop on her usual day at her usual time, and just as she expected, she finds her chair empty. What she didn’t expect to find was you, sitting on the other side. 

No words are spoken. She takes her seat, you stay in yours. You drink your coffee, you read, you people watch, you take comfort in another person’s presence. You don’t know why, but you feel safe.

You hate it. Truly, you do. It doesn’t make any sense. How can you be safe in the presence of the one who belittles you? Who makes you feel small? Who has only shown you cruelty and whose words are always laced with razor blades? 

And then you realize, this makes perfect sense. For the woman you used to love hid her cruelty behind pretty words and even prettier lies. She had torn you down and disguised the knife in your heart as a beautiful red rose. She had put your hand around the hilt and convinced you that it was you who had done the hurting, the breaking, the stabbing. She had said, with conviction and earnestness in her words, that you were the cause of everything that was wrong with you and her and the both of you together. You had believed her.

Venable is not like that. She does not lie. She does not hide. If you want to find her, all you have to do is look- and she is a painting. It’s pretty at first glance, but the longer you look, the more you see. The beautiful and the ugly, the deepest darkness and the hidden light, all the things she tries to hide and fails to be rid of. You see her.

Sometimes, you wonder if she can see you too.

--

The days bleed into weeks and you wonder if you will ever be free of this hold she has on you. It’s like the seed she’s buried in your head has finally taken root and no matter how hard you try to fight it, you can’t get her out. That’s days, weeks, it feels like years, that you spend thinking about Venable, burning and scorching until you’re sure all that’s left inside is ash. You hate it. You think you might hate her. No, you don’t, a part of you whispers, but you ignore it like you always do.

You butt heads at work. Often and with force, but she will never fire you, because despite her best efforts to prove otherwise, you are competent and you get things done. She thinks you are a menace; you think she is a mad goddess high on a pedestal of her own making. You want to knock her off. You refuse to be another sheep cowering at her feet. When you pass her in the corridors, when you see her on her lunch hour (the same table, the same space), even during the late evenings when you catch her in the parking garage, you don’t cower. You don’t flinch. You look her in the eyes and dare her to smite you.

Every Saturday at 7:50 in the morning, you go to the coffee shop down the street from your apartment. You sit at the table in the back right corner with a coffee and a book and you wait. At 8 o’clock on the hour, Venable will join you. She will sit in the chair facing the room, pull out her novel, and read while you do the same. 

The thoughts that plague your mind don’t stop until you are in her presence. When she sits down, your mind goes quiet. Finally, finally. So you sit and you read and sometimes, only sometimes, do you wish you could reach across the table and stroke her hand.

You rarely speak. When you do, it’s a discussion about literature, about the authors you find redundant and the works you think are derivative. Sometimes, she will comment on something that has happened at work. It is always sarcastic, a jab at some hapless employee or something inane like she is just trying to fill the silence, like she wants to talk to you.

You know this can’t be true. Venable likes no one, takes pleasure from no one’s company, but sometimes you think maybe she doesn’t mind yours.

--

You and Venable eventually settle into a new rhythm, one that ebbs and flows with the days and the flux of your emotions but it is one that is constant and real. Most of your arguments have progressed from barely concealed insults to clever banter and a back-and-forth repertoire that make smiles come unwittingly to your mouth. She smiles sometimes too when she thinks you aren’t looking. A little lift at the corner of her mouth, barely there, but noticeable all the same.  Only because she never smiles and it looks so out of place there on the curve of her lips. If you blink, it will disappear, but you see it. You always do. You think it is beautiful; you also think you are losing your mind, being so attracted to a person you dislike. But you don’t hate her, a little voice in the back of your head reminds you.

You can live with that though. The attraction, the thoughts running on a never ending cycle in your mind, the burn. And you do, for many weeks that turn into months that turn into long hours working together in overtime, that turn into you sometimes joining her on her picnic table during lunch, the same table, the same space, always, always. It isn’t lost on you that she’s let you intrude on her safe spaces, not once, but twice. You don’t know what it means so you don’t think about it. You don’t want to give water to a plant you aren’t sure you want to grow. And you are fine with that. You live with it.

Until one day, you fuck up.

--

It’s one of those Saturday mornings in which you speak. These mornings are not so rare anymore, but when they happen, you cherish them, turn them into memories in your mind. You don’t even know why, but you bottle them up like four leaf clovers and put them in your pocket for safe keeping. The sun is out, shining through the window over Venable’s shoulder. It sets her hair aflame. It hurts your eyes to see, but you can’t look away.

You don’t even remember what you’d said and doesn’t that just eat you up inside? That a woman you can’t stand has the ability to completely turn your brain to mush? You’d said something and it had just come bubbling out of her: a laugh. A real one, warm and low and husky. The sound of it makes it seem like she laughs all the time, like those laugh lines around her beautiful mouth are genuine. You have never seen her look happy before. You wonder if you make her happy. You wonder if you could, if she would let you.

As you look at her, as you watch the smile on her face grow, as her hand comes up to settle on her collarbone like the motion will keep her heart from leaping out of her chest, you feel your own heart drop unpleasantly into your stomach. And you freeze.

Oh.

Oh, no.

You don’t know when it happened. When the Venable who made you feel small became the Venable who laughs at your jokes and smiles where you can see her. When the Venable who tore you down became the Venable who presses her hand into the small of your back when she passes by you at the office. When the Venable you detested and who detested you became the Wilhemina who makes you feel safe.

You don’t know, you don’t know, you don’t know.

She is the deep blue underbelly of the ocean and she is pulling you under. You don’t want to drown. You want to burn and burn and burn. But she looks at you and douses your fire. She is the chain around your ankle, the anchor weighing you down, pulling and pulling and you wonder at what point you stopped fighting and let yourself sink.

Stomach churning, you lurch from your seat and make for the door.

No, no, no. 

You don’t notice her following you until you’ve made it down the sidewalk and feel her hand clasp around your wrist. Just like old times. Her fingers are gentle and soothing and this time, they trace the veins under your skin, timid and softly and barely there but you can feel her. You want to weep. You wonder if she’d been wanting to do that, if she had wanted to do that last time. Can she feel how your heart beats for her?

You watch her fingers for a moment, too scared to look in her eyes, fearful of what might be there. What if she wants you too? What if she doesn’t?

“Wilhemina-” you start, and that single word has her dropping your wrist as if it were on fire. Maybe it is. Maybe you are.

Her eyes darken and she turns without saying a word. Your heart in your throat, you watch her back as she walks away, determination in every step she takes. The picture is enough to hurt you more than the idea of falling in love with her scares you. 

You’ve been hurt before. Mistreated, gas lighted, bruised, and broken. But you are not broken anymore. You remade yourself. You became a new you that you rebuilt from the ground up, piece by piece, until you were a wall of solid brick. You are not soft, you are not naive or gullible or innocent, not any longer. You know the damage she could do, the danger she poses to your heart and your soul and your brand new walls. How did she knock them down without you realizing? The only conclusion that you come to is that she was supposed to. 

You realize, suddenly, with an ache in your heart, that the walls weren’t meant to protect you. They were not even made of bricks. They were the walls of a home and inside was your heart and painted on the front door was a sign. A sign addressed to Wilhemina Venable that simply read: Come on in.

You’d taken too long. She’s almost at the end of the block now. Your heart thunders in your chest as you break into a jog, rushing to catch up with her. “Mina!” The nickname tumbles from your lips before you can stop it.

Wilhemina jerks to a halt, shoulders angry and bunched up around her ears, reminiscent of a disgruntled cat. She locks her fingers around the head of her cane. It seems like she might turn around, like she might let you in. Look at me, please look at me, please, please, please. For a moment, you think she might. Her head turns to the side, just barely, just enough for you to admire the way the sun glints off the sharpness of her cheekbones. But you blink and she’s walking away from you still.

You dodge pedestrians and cyclists and dogs on leashes and in your mind, you beg and plead for her to stop, to turn around, to do anything but walk away from you. You would rather her yell at you and belittle you and call you names. You would rather feel her thorns against your skin, or feel the ire build up in your bones until you know nothing but anger, anything, anything, but this intense helplessness. You can’t do anything but run.

By the time you catch up with her, she is ascending the steps to a townhouse. You reach the mailbox, watching as she pulls her keys from her pocket and fiddles with them like she doesn’t actually want to use them, but feels like she must.  “Please don’t run away,” you plead, your voice quiet from exhaustion, from pain, from the feeling of your love for her overwhelming you completely as it fills your body and inflates your soul. You wonder how you hadn’t felt it before. 

Wilhemina stops and you could sob with relief when she finally, finally looks at you. Her eyes are so very dark, but they are not stone. They are weary, cautious and guarded, but not impenetrable. “Excuse me?”

“You heard what I said,” you retort, and it’s just like old times. The sparring games that never really ceased. It’s time to pick up your sword and shield and fight for the love of your life. “Please, Mina.”

Her jaw flexes and you can see her knuckles whiten from where her fingers grip the head of her cane. “I’m not running from anything. I am simply going home.”

“Really?” You move down the sidewalk, closer to her and further away from the real world. You want to live inside her bubble if she will let you. As she has before. As she will again. If you cannot quit her, she cannot quit you. Please, please, please. “Because I think you love me and that scares the hell out of you. Well, guess what, it scares the hell out of me too.” It hurts to say, and a part of you is afraid that voicing it out loud may make it disappear, but your heart still yearns and your chest still burns. The realization that it’s real, that it’s not all in your head, has you ascending her front porch steps. You need to be closer. You need to look in her eyes and feel the weight of the world lift from your shoulders. You need to see the stars.

“Funny, I recall you fleeing the coffee shop like I had a disease. Clearly, you don’t want to be seen with-'' You kiss her, smother the words against her lips and press her back into the townhouse door, holding her firmly but gently against you. If love is a person, you can feel her right now beneath your hands. Warm and soft and whole.

She hesitates, only for a second, before you hear the clatter of keys and her cane falling to the steps. Her hands reach up, bare of her gloves, and wrap around the collar of your shirt, simultaneously pulling you in and pressing against you. She bites your lip, harsh and unforgiving, and it stings but it hurts so good. You whimper when she soothes it with her tongue. “Foolish girl,” she hisses against your mouth.

“Am I?” You ask breathlessly, running your fingers up her spine. She’s trembling, but she leans into your touch all the same. “I think you like that about me,” you murmur against her lips.

You look into her eyes. They are still guarded, still cautious and they search your face like she is waiting for the punchline. You realize, with a great overwhelming sadness, that she is expecting you to laugh at her, to betray her and say it’s all a joke. She is afraid of you. You reach up with your other hand to sooth the furrow between her brows. You follow the elegant line of her nose, trace the small groove above her top lip, brush your fingertips along the curves of her mouth. “I won’t hurt you,” you whisper. Like it is a secret, and maybe it is, but it’s a secret just for her.

You watch in wonder as Venable disappears, as chocolate brown eyes turn glossy and vulnerable, as her lips tremble, and Wilhemina appears before you. Your gazes lock, and if two souls can speak to one another, you know that yours are speaking right now. They’ve been waiting for each other all this time.

You take one of her hands in yours and press it against your chest, to the erratic beating heart beneath your shirt. She may be the ocean, surrounding you, pulling you under, and holding you down, but you realize that you were the anchor all along. You will not falter, you will not move. She is a force to be reckoned with and you- you are the stone that will not break. “Feel that?” you ask. She nods, bites her lip, searches your eyes for the answers to questions you don’t yet know. You don’t need to know the questions. You vow to find the answers anyway. “That’s yours,” you say. “That’s for you. No one else. Not now, not ever, not even before. It’s always been yours.”

“That’s very poetic,” she murmurs huskily, trying to sound sarcastic, but her voice wavers and loses the sharpness to her tone. Her eyes are wet. You realize yours are too.

“I’ve seen what you read,” you respond. You feel her hand curl into a fist above your heart. “You like my poetry.”

She snorts, leans up, brushes her nose down the length of yours. You kiss her once, just to feel her beneath your lips. “Possibly,” she admits under her breath when you pull away. You smile, kiss her again and again and again. She leans into you like she wants to crawl inside of you and become one person, one soul, one being. You think you already are.

Her tongue slides into your mouth, hot and insistent, overwhelming your senses and causing your brain to stutter. The burn that settled in your being when you saw her that moment in the parking garage flares like a fire that’s been coaxed to life with kerosene. You’re familiar with this burn, with the nature of it. It has been a piece of you for months now. The very first moment you met her, she crawled into your heart and built a fire inside you. As she sucks your tongue into her mouth and bites at the tip and her nails scratch down the length of your neck, you realize that this fire was never meant to go out. It was meant to be a bonfire that could rival the stars.

You don’t know when you picked up her keys and her cane, or when she unlocked the door to her townhouse, or when you followed her up the stairs. You don’t know when you lost your clothes or she lost hers or when you traced her spine with kisses. You don’t know how you got here, with her underneath you, her long red hair splayed across her pillow like a halo around her head, but you are here. And you are in love. 

You watch her throat bob when she swallows. She’s staring at the ceiling as if it holds the answers to the universe. Her eyes are not guarded, or weary, but cautious. Look at me, please look at me, please, please, please. And she does. Your heart somersaults in your chest. She is right. You are a fool. 

The cautious look is gone, replaced with a determination that is both strange and familiar. She cups your face in her hands and tugs you down until your faces are so close, you can feel her lips brush yours with every breath she takes. “I might hurt you,” she admits, voice trembling as she looks into your eyes and you wonder if you look as scared as she does. “But I will try. What I hurt, I will soothe.” Her thumb traces the spot she bit not moments ago.

“I know,” you whisper, before you lean down and press your lips together once more. You gently bring your body down to rest on top of her so that all you can feel is your naked skin against hers. It is warm and soft and unbearable and you know you are crying but they are happy tears. As your kiss deepens, and her tongue comes home to meet yours, you feel a saltiness fall into your mouth and you realize that she is crying too. You kiss her and worship her and love her, love her, love her.

You fall like an anchor into her ocean where you will sit unmovable, impenetrable, always and forever. Her waves can lash at you, the tides can rise and fall, but you will not break. For her, you will be everything.

You breathe her in and feel her body move beneath your bare skin. You trace her spine with your fingertips, press kisses to her collarbone, hold her in the palm of your hands like she is the whole entire world. And to you, she is. You show her the night sky when she closes her eyes, and you teach her to reach up and take the stars for herself. You tell her you love her and you make promises you know you will keep. She doesn’t have to say it back. You can see it in her eyes, feel it in the way she kisses you, in the tender way she traces your face and looks at you like you are the sun. You wonder if she can feel your heartbeat against her chest.

You make love and you burn and burn and burn until you are a supernova ready to come crashing down into her ocean.

[nysus-temple]

SO rememeber this picrew of the gang? Well, I've seen many people doing it with Cronus's children ( you know who ) but as much as I like this picrew and the artist's style, I don't think those six look very good in it. So I found this one and decided to try and make more or less how they look in my story like the last one !

I think it's pretty clear who is who, but in case you're not sure: Hades · Hestia · Poseidon · Demeter · Hera · Zeus

Now, explanation time, wuh !

Hades:

The oldest of them ! He has a friendly look, am I right? HAH—

Lately, I've been reading how ghosts were portrayed in Ancient Greece, and for my surprise, it wasn't such a big deal. Either they were extremelly pale to a point of looking like a living corpse ( wich makes sense ) or they looked literally like a shadow ( wich also makes sense ). So here you go, Hades looks like a living corpse and wears everything black, pretty obvious to notice he rules the Underworld and never comes out. Not in full-body at least. He's the one who resembles Rhea the most out of the six.

Hestia:

The oldest of the girls !

She was born with a more humanoid-like appearance like the rest, but while growing up, she started becoming more and more like fire with human form. Yes, she is literally made of fire, albe to show only the face and the chest without flames. No, she isn't wearing any clothing, how could she if she's literally walking fire? Her eyes are grey, kind of resembling ashes.

Poseidon:

The tallest of the boys !

His hair was originally blonde, but like Hestia, he changed while he was growing until he took this appearance. He was born with the fish scales tho, they just were more similar to the skin color. Behind the necklace he has gills, wich he hides when coming out of the sea.

Demeter:

The tallest of the girls !

I wanted to make her resemble nature as much as possible and I think I was more or less able to get her to look that way. Would probably wear more accesories tho, but not golden, like flowers or similar. Wears a lot of green? OF COURSE she does.

Hera:

The youngest of the girls !

Maybe due to my obsession of making her resemble Ares the most is the main reason I made her look like this, I can't imagine Ares without any warm color, so his mom has a similar hair color to him. She has freckles and as you can see, she's the one who uses more accesories. Graceful like the queen she is, but still has that inmature side she always had.

Zeus:

And here's the youngest of the boys !

He's the one who resembles Cronus the most, but the straight hair is more of Rhea than him, who had it like Demeter and Hera. A big scar between the eyes, from when Cronus tried to hurt him with his sickle. Of course, has the most noticeable beard, I've been portraying him like this since I was young and I just can't make him without it.

BONUS: Persephone !

Unlike Dionysus, she hides her horns with her hair, that is long enough to float and make it look like a veil.

She isn't as old as the other six, but is definetly older than the main gang, specially since her own son is there.

[arrivisting]

some v. rough writing from yesterday I’ll probably not use in the end

They were standing back to back in the camp, surrounded by enemies: by furious Elven and Eldar, by accusing eyes familiar and strange. There was blood on Maedhros’s sword. He hadn’t wanted to kill the guard – he’d barely seemed of age, blond like so few of the Noldor were, wide-eyed. His mouth had opened in a shout above the new slit in his throat, then disgorged blood rather than sound.

There were people all around them, shouting. Someone was crying. They pressed around him and his brother, but didn’t touch them. Did they fear their swords, or fear them, like a foul contagion belched out of Angband?

They were going to have to cut a way out. He could tell Maglor knew it. His brother was stiff and alert behind him. They couldn’t hope to win. They’d fight anyway. They’d fight these angry Elves he didn’t dare look at too closely, lest he recognise them; they were trained to deliver death. This crowd might hold back. Maedhros and Maglor would cut their way out, killing until they were killed in turn; until someone in the crowd got over squeamishness about slaying their own kind and put an end to them.

Maedhros was tired. He hoped they killed him before they killed Maglor, which all but made certain they wouldn’t.

“Fall back,” said a clear voice. It had the bright quality of a Valarin bell, the kind that had rung out whenever the Mingling began, back in Valinor, before the darkness. “Do not harm or hinder them.”

“They have the Jewels,” someone said, and in their voice was grief. “They killed again for them. They slipped into our tents like shadows and left like thieves.”

“They are indeed thieves and murderers,” the Ainu said. Eonwe, with his clarion throat and golden skin, his eyes too light a blue to be natural. His pale hair clasped the shape of his skull in licks like feathers. There were no pupils to his eyes. “But judgment upon them is for the lords and ladies of the Māchananaškad: it is not for you, nor yet even for me.”

The crowd had parted for him as he spoke, falling back before the faint light of his inviolate flesh. They flinched from touching his silver armour or his white cloak with their imperfect hands, their rough bodies.

“The Jewels are our own,” said Maglor. His rich voice seemed less beautiful than usual, coming after Eonwe. “Our father’s. How can we steal what is ours already, unjustly withheld?”

“You have already had my answer on that,” said Eonwe.

There was light enough now that Maedhros could see, in the silver radiance of Eonwe’s form, in the red flare of the torches, faces he recognised, if he dared pick them out.

He didn’t want to.

They were pressing forward, however, through the crowd, into the empty spaces left by others falling back in obedience. There were faces he knew from brighter days in Himring and in the Gap, in Thargelion and in Himlad, from the long bleak years after the Tears. People he had trusted, and led into battle, and lived with side by side; who had turned from his banner after Sirion. Some had merely left, streaming away like lost pearls of mercury: that they had come in the end to Balar was to be expected. Those looked at their former lords with sorrow, with horror.

The ones who had not only turned away but had taken up their arms to protect the innocents of Sirion from their lords: there was horror there, certainly, but a certain hard conviction which wasn’t exactly pleasure. They had seen the end of the road. They had swerved in time. They had been right to be foresworn.

There was one of Turgon’s lords, clutching a spear. Maedhros remembered leaving him wounded but alive after Sirion. They’d killed another one then, hadn’t they? Egalmoth, who’d still been wearing his silly helmet, all gleaming silver, twisting back into a crest shaped almost like a flower.

The last lord of Gondolin’s eyes were accusing.

And there was his cousin, Artanis, with her golden hair half-pinned like she’d risen from sleep, her eyes hard.

He turned from her to one of the flint-eyed Sindar looking at him and his brother as though they were Orcs out of legend: monsters who had fallen first on Doriath and then on Sirion, sawing at the thin silver line of their royal family until it fractured and snapped. That was fair, he thought. He could bear that judgment.

Then – no. No.

“Oh,” Maglor said, in desperate negation. “Oh, no; oh, why did they have to be here?”

That was Maglor: still believing, despite himself, that things might be all right. Still believing that they might sue the Valar for pardon, and one day be forgiven. Still not sure why every chance turned in their hands, why every arrow went astray: why everything was always the worst it could be, every shade of softness extinguished by darkness.

Of course they were all there.

Elrond and Elros. Half-grown, halfway between Elves and men, looking white and shocked. Their sweet, fierce fosterlings with their starling-bright eyes, still wearing their Feanorian motley. It hurt that they were still dressed in drab, little eaglets in sparrow’s guise. They should have been hung with gold and jewels at last, like the princes they were. Why weren’t they?

Celebrimbor, a ghost from the past with their father’s face and eyes entirely his own. The only one of them to escape the net of the Doom. He was reproach itself, the example they could not – would not? – follow. And he was weeping, quietly, and dashing the tears from his eyes with the back of his wrist as though they shamed him.

And, coming forth to stand at Eonwe’s side, shoulder to shoulder – stern, tall, dark-haired – a young man who looked only as old as the twins, although he had been born long before. Gil-galad, High King of the Noldor.

Of course the High King was there, a perfect Fingolfinian in his blue and silver. His battered steel armour and dark blue surcoat were littered with silver stars. He was large: as tall as the Ainu, and broader in the shoulders than Fingon or Fingolfin had ever been.

He had Fingon’s square jaw, but there was something delicate in the modelling of his cheekbones, his mouth: as though some sculptor had been at work refining all the details. Maedhros couldn’t stop looking at him.

He could feel Maglor’s confusion blooming beside him in the dark, then abating. He could guess at the shape of his brother’s thoughts, if not the words:

Why is he so stuck on Orodreth’s boy, when Elrond and Elros are right there?  I suppose it’s the resemblance: he looks a little like Fingon, doesn’t he? Is he imagining Fingon now, risen from the dead to judge him? I’m tired of him flogging himself with Fingon’s ghost. It’s not so close a likeness, anyway. It’s mostly the colouring and the colours. They do say he was Fingon’s, and I can see why they might; if I didn’t know better…

The grown Gil-galad’s eyes were like stars. Cold, and furious, and burning.

[sequinsmile-x]

Defence

They can’t stop each other from being hurt by the past so they do what they can now. They protect each other, their love fierce and soft in equal measure.

Words: 2.5k 

Warnings: Canon typical violence 

Thanks to @aubreyprc for reading this for me to ensure it made sense because I wrote 98% of it in a sleep deprived state. You’re the best, bestie <3 

Read over on ao3 or below the cut.

Let me know what you think!

Emily was sure she had never been so grateful for a case to be over. Eight days in a small town, with almost as many dead young boys. Lost at the hands of a man who was taking out his anger at losing his own son out on innocent local families.

She had watched as the man she loved struggled with it, the similarity between the dead children and his own son not lost on anyone in the team. She knew she’d hovered, stayed maybe a little too close, but she missed Jack too. She kept thinking about the homework she had been helping him with before they were called away, how it was probably still spread out on their dining room table.

She couldn’t help but imagine how it would feel to never finish it, to walk back into a home that only had memories of the boy she loved as her own. They finished the case a little too late to fly home that evening. Aaron’s disappointment was sharp, his frustration coming out in barbed shouts at the team and the local cops as they packed away, broke down the room they had called home for more than a week. Some work needed finishing in the morning, the finilalsing of interviews that Aaron had said they would help with before they headed back to DC.

Dave had given her a silent look, asked her to work her magic. Emily led Aaron down a small, quiet, hallway and she gently assured him they’d see Jack the following day, that they’d pick him up from school and take him to see the movie he’d been raving about for weeks. It drew a smile out of him, and she had squeezed his hand, quipping that he owed everyone a drink.

It’s how they found themselves in a local dive bar, all crowded around a table. Aaron had his arm around her, slung over her shoulders, and she had hers around his waist. Any discomfort of public displays of affection in front of the team had melted away years ago. She could feel some eyes on them, cops they had worked with over the last week casting curious gazes in their direction, but she couldn’t bring herself to care. The case was over, they were heading home in the morning. They could allow themselves to act like a normal couple.

Emily looks up at him and smiles when he looks back at her. She reaches up to press a quick kiss to his lips, her hand coming to rest on his cheek.

“I’m going to the bathroom, I’ll be back in a sec.” She kisses him again, and flips Derek off as she walks away when she hears him making a fake gagging noise.

As she enters the hallway she sees two of the officers from the case. Officer Peters, a difficult man who had looked at them all with contempt since they arrived, and his partner Officer Hayes. Peters was clearly a misogynist, his defiance towards her when they’d been partnered up on a couple of interviews over the last few weeks made that clear. She gets closer to them and stops, their conversation loud enough for her to hear.

“I looked him up, you know?” Officer Peters says, taking a sip of his drink, leaning in towards his partner like he was about to tell some grand secret, but not lowering his voice. “Do you remember The Boston Reaper?” He waits for a nod. “The suit killed him. With his bare hands.”

The mention of Foyet always made her blood run cold even all these years later. Haley’s last words echoing around her head as she remembers them finding Aaron with Foyet’s body, still beating him as if the man wasn’t long dead. She lived with a little boy who had very few memories of his mother now, who would still sometimes find his way into her and Aaron’s bed. Nightmares fused with half remembered moments of the worst day of his life. The things he had overheard, but could not understand, twisting into something that was somehow worse than reality.

“Wouldn’t think he had it in him.” Officer Hayes says in disbelief.

“There's got to be something interesting about him to bag Agent Prentiss. You know she's a wild one just by looking at her.” Officer Peters takes another swig of his drink. “He’s a stern bastard, didn’t crack a smile the whole time they were here.”

She knows it’s true, she makes fun of Aaron for it herself often enough. Good natured jibes to make him relax a little, to remind him that they were all there too. Hearing someone else say it, someone who didn’t know them, set her on edge. She knew how Aaron wore his stoicism like an armour, something to protect himself from the things they saw, from the responsibilities he carried. She was there when it all fell away, when he became her Aaron, not Hotch, and it made her protective of him. Something fierce building in her chest.

She clears her throat before she can stop herself, and the officers both turn to look at her.

“Excuse me, gentlemen.” She says, an eyebrow raised. “I’ve got to get past you.” She nods down the hallway towards the bathrooms, indicating the amount of room they were taking up.

Officer Hayes has the decency to look caught out, and he steps back almost immediately. Officer Peters, however, stands in her way. Purposely blocking her with a defiant look on his face.

“The case is closed.” He says, and she can smell the alcohol on his breath. Emily wonders how long they had been here, if they had been drinking since the unsub was brought in several hours ago. “Your team can’t tell us what to do anymore.”

Emily rolls her eyes and walks past him, easily getting by, and he grabs her arm, yanks her back towards him. She tries to pull her arm free, but he holds on tighter, squeezing her skin in a way that hurts. She doesn’t let it show.

“Let go of me.”

“Terry-” Officer Hayes tries to warn his partner, cut off before he can get beyond the man's given name.

“What are you going to do?” He asks, getting closer to her, making rage as opposed to the fear she was sure he was after rising in her chest. “Tell your boyfriend.”

When she looks back on it in the weeks to come Emily isn’t sure what made her say something. What made her push past the voice in her head, that sounded suspiciously like her boyfriend, telling her to leave it. To walk away. She thinks it’s down to the brutality of the case, the way she knew it had impacted Aaron much more than he would let anyone other than her know. His facade cracking when their hotel room door closed at the end of a long day, too many hours worked behind them and too few hours of sleep ahead.

Emily had watched as he loosened his tie every night, the stoicism on his face giving way to sadness and something too close to guilt for her liking. She had held him tightly in her embrace, trying to transfer some of her strength to him, kisses and words of love pressed against his skin. A loan she gave freely but knew he would pay back, and then some, the next time it was her turn to fall apart behind closed doors.

“I don’t need to tell him anything.” She smiles at him, and it pisses Officer Peters off more. “I’m a federal agent, this is assault. I’d think long and hard before making me involve him. It won't end well for you.” She tears her arm free, holds back the wince when she can feel her skin bruise. She starts to walk away, forgoing the bathroom altogether to walk back to the team, to Aaron.

“Is that a threat, bitch?”

Emily doesn’t exactly know what happens next, Officer Hayes and Peters move at the same time. She’s sure the former is trying to stop his partner, but she ends up getting a blow to her left cheek either way. She cries out, her hand coming up to her face, pain spreading from the point of impact. She hears Derek yelling from across the bar and she sighs.

All hell was about to break loose. _______________

Emily finds herself grateful that Aaron is not there when everything happened, that he’d stepped out to call Jessica and speak to Jack before he went to bed for the night. When he walks back into the bar she can tell he immediately knows something has happened. She watches as he pauses in the doorway, the relative silence in the bar deafening in comparison to the noise he had left behind.

Aaron looks over and sees Derek and Dave talking to a couple of officers from the case, Officer Hayes included, and then he looks over at where she is sitting, JJ holding ice wrapped in a towel the barman had given them against her cheek.

He’s by her side in seconds, JJ handing over the makeshift ice pack silently, linking arms with Spencer to lead him away to give them some privacy

“What happened to your face?” He cups her jaw gently, his thumb ghosting over the swelling already appearing under her skin, bruising blooming on her cheek.

“It’s ok.” She says, her self deprecating laugh turning into a wince as he presses the wrapped ice to her cheek. “It’s nothing. You should see the other guy. Derek did a number on him.”

“Em.” Aaron says, grabbing her hand with his spare one, gently squeezing it. “Please.”

She sighs and closes her eyes. “Ok.” She swallows and looks at him again, attempting a smile to reassure him. “But you’ve got to understand it is not your fault.”

His face falls, eyebrows furrowing enough that the crease she loves to soothe with her thumb appears on his forehead.

“A couple of the officers from the case were over by the bathroom, I heard them talking about you.” It riles her up again, frustration burning in her chest. “I let them know I was there. One of them was pretty drunk and he grabbed me. I got away and he managed to get a good punch in whilst his partner tried to stop him.”

“Where?” He grits out.

“What?”

“Where did he grab you?” He asks, his voice dangerous. She sighs, rolls the sleeve up on her sweater to show where the finger shaped bruises were forming on her arm. She sees him clench his jaw, the hand not gently holding ice against her cheek forming a fist.

“Honey-”

“I’ll kill him.”

Emily stops him from moving, wrapping her hand around his fist. “Aaron, just breathe. It’s fine.”

“It’s not fine, Emily.” He seethes, anger vibrating off of him in a way she couldn’t remember seeing in years. “He hurt you.”

“Come on, love. I can take a punch just as well as the rest of you.” She says, smiling at him. “Probably better actually.”

“Em.”

“It’s not worth it. He’ll already be losing his badge for this. I’d rather you didn’t go to prison for killing him.” She reaches out and cups his cheek, tries to coax a smile out of him. “I don’t think I could keep up with the mortgage payments by myself and it would be a shame to move.” She presses her forehead to his. “I love the bay window too much.”

Aaron does laugh at that. It’s cracked, catching in his chest, but it’s something and it relieves the tension. “I always knew that’s why you agreed to move in with me. The house.”

“You’ll do too, I suppose.” She kisses him, and becomes serious when she pulls away. “Let’s just get out of here, ok? I’d like to go climb into that tiny excuse for a bath in our hotel room with you.”

She doesn’t have to ask twice, their goodbyes to the team short as they leave the bar. When they get outside Officer Peters is there, his superior officer having arrived once the incident had called through.

Emily has to physically pull Aaron in the opposite direction, she feels the tension in him build again as they take a couple steps away.

“She threatened me first, you know.” Officer Peters yells after them, his anger at Emily still clear. “This is what happens when you let women do this kind of work.”

Aaron rarely used his strength against her, unless she asked him to, but he was out of her grasp before she even knew what was happening.

“Aaron.” She calls after him, catching up with him and grabbing his arm again, her fingers digging into his bicep. “It’s not worth it.”

“She is better at her job than you could ever hope to be.” Aaron spits out, anger flowing from him. “When I’m done with you they won’t even let you direct traffic.” He turns to the detective in charge of the case. “We won’t be back in the morning as discussed, we will be leaving first thing. My team will liaise with you on anything you need.”

He walks away, pulling her with him, before there is any chance of a response. _______________

She wants to distract him, his fingers grazing gently over the bruising on her arm as they sit in the bath together. She was on his lap, crushed up against him so they could both fit. Emily could feel how delicately he was treating her. Even though she couldn’t see his face she knew he was frowning, on a downward spiral, blaming himself for not protecting her.

She links her fingers through his, drags his arm around her so he’s no longer focused on her injuries. “That was pretty hot, you know.” She turns her head to press a kiss into his throat, her fingers dancing across his skin. “What was?” He asks, and she turns her whole body to look at him, settling herself back over his thighs. She bites her lip before she kisses him so he can’t focus too much on her bruised cheek.

“You wanting to go all caveman like that.” She says, moving her lips to his ear lobe, nipping at the delicate skin. “However unnecessary it was.”

His hands grip her hips, pulling her closer to him, and she knows she’s achieved what she had set out to.

“Oh really?” He asks as his hands trail up her back.

“Really.”

She kisses him, and all other thoughts are lost.

[shorkbrian]

Prelude - Idek man I’m a sucker for a lil bondage. Reminder!!! Coercive sex, or any sex where there isn’t any consent, is no-no!!!!! that is rape you guys! this type of behavior where a respected authority figure takes is absolutely not cool under any circumstances. I can’t believe that this is something that I have to make clear, but I don’t condone any of these actions, nor do I support this behavior, or any behavior that’s similar.

Pairing - Aizawa X Reader

Warnings - NSFW (no penetration), noncon, dub con, fingering, abuse of power, 

Music - https://open.spotify.com/track/4TQcARE7Fd58akNhr3N7AE?si=ffl2jJviRAyVzK3QtU85Jg

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You’re a hero he’s being forced to work with, even though technically he isn’t supposed to have an agency, and technically, he’s supposed to work alone.

Apparently your superiors decided to ignore those two facts, practically dumping you on top of him the second school lets out.

You’re adorable, all fresh faced and young, full of hope and energy and everything that he’s not. Aizawa tries to get out of it, arguing with your superiors while you just stand there watching, but ultimately, he leaves with you trailing behind him.

Tonight, it would seem he’d be working with you.

The whole way downtown you talk his ear off, chattering just like Hizashi does when he’s extra nervous - except, you don’t seem to be nervous.

No, you’re excited, bragging about your accomplishments, your skills. How many villains you’ve turned in, how many civilians you’ve saved. Aizawa quickly gets irritated by your incessant yapping, how you sit there and boast about how good of a hero you are.

From what he can tell, you haven’t been a hero long.

There aren’t any noticeable scars on your form, and if there were, your flashy, skin-tight outfit would’ve exposed them, just like it’s exposing you. It’s impractical, illogical, leaving your skin open to cuts and burns and any other sort of attack.

Plus, it’s distracting. He figures it’s designed to get better ratings from male viewers, to get the videos of you rescuing civilians or taking down low-ranking villains more views. 

You don’t watch your surroundings as intently as Aizawa does - a woman sniffles in an alleyway as the two of you pass by, and Aizawa’s immediately on high alert at the sound, looking for potential traps or incoming enemies. You didn’t even register the sound. 

Thankfully, you’re not as loud as Hizashi, and when Aizawa holds his hand up to signal you to shut up, you do, immediately clamping you mouth shut with an audible click. At least you can follow orders.

You have no idea of stealth, footsteps falling heavy as you walk, swinging your arms jauntily and seemingly uncaring of who sees you. It makes Aizawa’s blood boil. You sit there, patting yourself on the back about what a good hero you are, yet you’re barely better than a bad sidekick. A sidekick Aizawa wouldn’t-doesn’t  want tagging along.

After the third time of you bumping into him after he’s stopped to listen to the sounds of the city, high on the rooftops, Aizawa wants to give you a pinch, scold you for not being ready for hero work, tell you the truth about your “skills” and how good of a hero you really are.

But he’s a patient man, and he knows how to calm his irritation by taking deep breaths. Lord knows his students test his resolve to resort to corporal punishment, so he should reign himself in from considering using it with you. Still, you’re an annoying, young little thing - excited and prideful, trying to show off to the older hero.

Aizawa can deal with it though, as long as he ignores your blunders.

The way you talk too much, how you don’t pay attention, the way you constantly bump into him because you haven’t realized he’s stopped in his tracks. You’re foolish.

It’s not until you almost push him off the edge of a building with your mindless blundering does Aizawa lose his patience.

The man rounds on you, blood pumping quick and fast in his heart from the adrenaline of teetering over the edge, feeling himself about to fall. He probably could’ve caught himself with his capture weapon, but what if he hadn’t? Your stupid mistake could’ve cost him his life, his career.

It takes him less than a second to have your wrists tangled up in his capture weapon, dragging you towards him so he can tower over you, fisting a hand in your hair.

“You’re a shitty hero.” Is all he says, pushing you to the side. Aizawa knows that will sting more than anything else he could say - it’s obvious that you look up to the older man. He wouldn’t put it past you to be the one who begged your agency to dump you on him for the night, so you could talk to him, learn some trade secrets, gush to your little hero friends how you were “trained” by Eraserhead himself.

He’s expecting you to be indignant, to try and argue your case. What he’s not expecting, is for you to attack him as soon as he retracts his capture weapon back onto his neck.

It’s almost laughable, how bad you are at fighting. He can hear you run at him, anticipates the first swing you take at his back, easily tucks forward and out of your reach. When he turns, you're standing there, chest heaving (Your suit really doesn’t leave anything to the imagination, does it? He wonders if it’s something your agency chose, or if it’s a personal preference) as you stare at him with a fire in your eyes.

“You have no right to say that to me.” You grind out, before running at him again.

Now that Aizawa can see you, it’s even easier to dodge your attack, ducking and blocking each punch or kick with ease. “I wouldn’t even want you for a sidekick. You’re sloppy-”

He jabs his fist into your side, and you let out a pained gasp.

“Poorly trained-”

A quick backhand across your face sends you reeling, and Aizawa sighs. He didn’t even put that much force behind it.

“Dangerously prideful-”

His capture weapon whips around your legs, tangling them and pulling them right out from under you. Aizawa moves to yours side, crouching by your head so he can see your eyes.

“And unfit to be a hero.”

You’re winded, but despite that, you thrash, infuriated by the words. You try to strike out at Aizawa, but you find yourself quickly wrapped up in his capture weapon, immobilized. 

“Instead of doing important work, trying to keep this city safe, I have to deal with an arrogant brat.”

Aizawa stands up, using his capture weapon to drag you to your feet as well. He takes less than a moment to stride to the edge of the building, pulling you along with him, making you stumble.

With a flick of his wrist, you’re leaning out over the edge, the only thing stopping you from falling being Aizawa’s capture weapon wrapped around your wrists, lacing over your chest, holding you back.

He hears you squeak in fear, watches you go completely still as he holds you there, lets you feel the fear of being dangled above the edge, flirting with the height.

“You saw how easy it was for me to subdue you, how easily you yielded. How do you even beat villains?” Aizawa clicked his tongue. “I’m worried about the future of this city if you’re what we have to offer in terms of a hero.”

You tensed up, obviously hurt by the words. Aizawa felt no remorse - he truly was disquieted when faced with the knowledge that people like you were the next generation of peace-keepers.

With a jerk jerk, you were yanked away from the edge, landing on your butt, air whooshing out of your lungs in a gasp. Aizawa crouched down behind you, leaning close, letting you feel the heat of his body.

“Do you know what would happen if a villain had you tied up like this?”

You quickly shook your head, silent. Aizawa almost wanted to laugh, how were you this naive? 

He let his hands rest on your shoulders, let them slowly slide down to your exposed collarbones, further, down to the tops of your breasts.

“Stop... please...” You whispered, frozen.

Aizawa huffed. “A villain wouldn’t stop. You’d be powerless against one. I doubt the “villains” you’ve been taking down could even be classified as such.” 

He let his hands drop even further, until he could feel the weight of your breasts in his hands, thinly covered by your costume.

“Let me guess, they’ve all been petty criminals? Bicycle thieves... pickpockets... People who accidentally let the parking meter run out?” He chuckled.

Aizawa kneaded your tits, the warm flesh pliant, soft, delicious. Your nipples were hardening under his touch, pressing against your suit, peaking into solid shapes against your chest. He let his touch focus on them, rolling and pinching the little buds until you were whining beneath his hands, squirming in discomfort as he played with your tits.

“A real villain would have so much fun with you. You’d be so easy, so effortless to hold down. They could do whatever they wanted to you.” He purred into your ear.

You relaxed when Aizawa pulled his hands away, stood up to circle around to your front. You thought he was done, thought he would let you free from his capture weapon. You thought wrong. 

The man sat down in front of you, leaning back easily onto his ankles. You were quickly pulled into his lap, crying out at the way he jerked you closer to him, until your fronts were pressed together, until he was pinching and massaging your plump rear.

“What a shame, loosing an untrained hero to a villain. If you’re really unlucky, they won’t kill you once they’re finished with your body.” Aizawa watched you shiver. “No, they’ll keep you alive, and in the clutches of evil men? that’s much, much worse than death.”

Your suit exposed your legs, had a short, flashy skirt that barely covered your ass. Underneath, a flimsy leotard protected your modesty, easily pulled to the side.

A panicked whine tore from your lungs as you felt Aizawa’s thick finger ghost along your folds, rubbing the delicate flesh, acquainting himself with the feel of a tender young body. 

The hand on your ass was still groping, squeezing and pulling you impossibly closer, until you have to turn your face to the side, chin hooking over the man’s shoulder. Aizawa nuzzled your neck, breathing in the subtle scent that covered your body, some type of perfume, a scent he couldn’t place, but pleasant nonetheless. 

When he felt wetness slowly beginning to seep from your cunt, Aizawa grinned, rolling his eyes. You would be eaten up by a villain, completely destroyed. 

He slipped his pointer finger inside, circling his thumb against your clit as he did so, shushing your frightened noises at the unexpected intrusion.

“I wouldn’t be surprised if a villain targeted you. With a costume like this? Your obvious inexperience? The way you boast and brag about what a big girl you are, how proficient you are at taking down big, bad criminals?”

Another finger slipped inside, stretching you wide. You were so warm, so soft, squeezing his fingers like you were trying to suck him in. It was almost like your pussy was desperate for more, aching for something bigger. 

But Aizawa had standards, morals. He just wanted to scare you a bit, not ruin you completely. 

With two fingers inside of you, he stroked along your velvety walls, searching for the special little spot he knew would make you squeal. You were trembling, draped against his body like a rag doll, hips twitching ever so slightly when he did something you liked.

He tapped your clit again with his thumb, and you stifled a moan. Aizawa resisted the urge to smile; you were so easy.

As his fingers explored your cunt, probing and stretching and scissoring you open, he let his lips attach onto your neck. He could let himself indulge a little - after all, your agency had insisted you come along, even after he told them no.

With a shrill cry, you bucked into his hand, trying to press your hips down further. Aizawa hooked his fingers again, pressing down on the spot he had just rubbed with his fingers, and you yelped again, rocking down, fucking yourself against his thick digits.

He found it.

Starting slowly, the man began fingerfucking you, making sure to hit the spongy, sensitive spot that had you moaning and crying, shaking in his arms.

He found himself quickly loosing patience, especially with the way you wiggled and fidgeted in his lap, trying to chase the sensation his fingers provided.

With no warning (not that he’d given you one once throughout this experience), Aizawa went from his slow, gentle pace, to one that made his forearm flex, one that made your back arch and your toes curl in those impractical, stupid high heels.

You were quickly reduced to mush, able to do nothing but let Aizawa fuck you to tears with his fingers, driving you closer and closer to the edge. He could feel it, how you were almost there. You clenched down on his fingers, sweat shined across your skin, you were absolutely gushing with your creamy wetness, the liquid sliding down his hand and soaking into his pants.

Messy.

Another few quick, hard flicks of his wrist, and suddenly you were squirting, forcing his fingers out of your pussy, writhing from the stimulation. A stream of wet was forced out of you, spraying all over his pants, his hand, the concrete of the rooftop. 

Your legs shook with the force of it, eyes rolling back in your head. Aizawa knew  you were lost in pleasure, so far gone you couldn’t do much but moan and gurgle brokenly as you slowly came down from your orgasm.

He let you lean against him for a few moments longer, let you pant into his ear, felt your sweaty skin stick to his own. 

But he was tired, and he wanted to finish patrolling, and you were barely more than a nuisance, and he needed to find somewhere to jerk off.

He wasn’t a rapist, after all.

So with gentle hands, Aizawa untied you from his capture weapon, slowly sliding you off his lap and onto the ground. He gave you a few moments to collect yourself, rising to his feet to turn and give you privacy as you righted your costume, smoothed down your frazzled appearance, caught your breath.

He was so hard.

When you finally joined his side, you were meek, quiet, subdued. Aizawa barely glanced at you (If he did, he might do something he’d regret, not that he already hasn’t) before striding forward, moving with purpose towards the next roof top.

Hopefully, you’d learned your lesson, and wouldn’t run your mouth so much.

Hopefully, you’d train harder, try to strengthen your fighting style.

Hopefully, Aizawa found somewhere he could jerk off, before his primal urges coerced him into doing something more befitting of a villain.

If that happened, it wasn’t that big of a deal. It’s not like you would tell anyone.

[painless-innit-colourful]

Swear By The Stars - A Tubbo & Robin Fic

It’s a peaceful night in L’Manberg, but the leader does not rest.

He doesn’t look it, picking his way through the woods bordering his country wearing a thick jumper and cloak, bags under his eyes and a sword in his belt, but it hardly matters. At this hour no one’s coming over for diplomatic reasons, and whatever he finds in amongst those trees is none of his business, actually.

Or so he thinks.

When he sees the figure in the clearing, his first instinct is to say “Ghostbur?”, but that would be very dumb because it clearly isn’t. Sitting on a log in the middle of the empty space is the ghost of a child, with ginger hair much too vibrant to be Wilbur’s, wearing an old fashioned shirt and a straw hat.

“What are you doing?” The question leaves Tubbo’s mouth before he can think to stop it, and the young boy’s head snaps to look in his direction. His mouth sets in a line as he gives Tubbo a once-over, face betraying curiosity; and then he goes back to gazing at the night sky, staring at nothing but clouds in the frigid air, as Tubbo sees when he walks over to join him.

“Are you alive?” Tubbo jumps slightly, looking away from the vast expanse of nothing overhead and back to the boy who has fixed him with a dull gaze. His voice is soft like it hasn’t been used for a long time, and he cocks his head to one side slowly. “I am.” Comes the teenager’s reply. The boy looks puzzled for a moment, then shakes his head. “Right. I thought, from the cloak, you might have been from the same place- time as me. But, obviously not.” “When are you from?” “A very, very long time ago.” The boy leans back on his elbows. “I lost track not long after I died. It all blends together, especially when you’re not watching people that are alive, but I never went away. Unfinished business, or something.” He tilts his head to one side again. “Who are you?” “President Tubbo of L’Manberg.” He replies after a beat, sticking out a hand for a handshake on reflex. The ghost boy takes it somewhat anxiously and gives it a tentative shake, soft and yet firm at the same time.

“Robin.” And there it strikes Tubbo, that Robin reminds him of someone. Someone he can’t pin down just yet.

“So what are you doing?” He asks as they let go of each others’ hands. “Waiting.” “For what?” Robin lifts his gaze to the heavens once more. “For the stars to come out. No matter when or where you are in all the land, there’s one surety: sooner or later, the clouds disappear and the stars show themselves, once per night. The weather moves fast.” He says, turning to look at Tubbo again. “Would you like to join me?”

Tubbo’s answer comes in the form of him taking a seat on the log beside Robin. They both look up, and it’s several minutes of nothing before either of them speaks again. “So, why do you think you’re still here? What’s your unfinished business?” The phrase leaves a bad taste in Tubbo’s mouth even as he’s saying it, and it hangs in the air for a moment as the younger boy contemplates his answer. “I don’t know. It’s supposed to be about tidying your loose ends, letting go of your life and moving on, but I guess it... broke when it got to me, because what are you supposed to let go of when you had nothing to lose in the first place?” “What do you mean?”

Robin sighed, “My village… went completely mad. I was an orphan: I barely knew my mom and my dad died in a war, missing in action, so not even a gravestone for him. I tried to study medicine, be somebody anyway, but I was a burden on everyone around me. One night, someone was murdered, and the town thought the only person that still cared about me did it.” Tubbo wanted to reach out and put an arm around this kid; he refrained. “They executed him in front of me. But they still weren’t satisfied. The next day, they came for me too. I didn’t have the will to deny it. All I had ever done was annoy and burden these people because I couldn’t look after myself, and they needed someone to blame. In the end, I just let them kill me too.” Robin sounded close to crying, though his expression stayed neutral. He looked over at Tubbo, whose face resembled that of someone who just watched a puppy get kicked. “Sorry, it’s not a happy story.”

The teenager forced a smile, “It’s okay- Look, Robin, I know we just met, but I think I can figure out what you need to do to pass on in peace. I might be wrong - I’m probably wrong, we’ve spoken for about two minutes-” “You can’t be wrong, you’re the President, and I’m pretty sure that’s the ruler of the land, so you’re always right?” Tubbo chuckled a little, “That’s not how it works anymore.” Robin seemed amused by this. “-anyway, what was I saying… Right, yeah, you said you don’t know how you can move on, but the way it seems to me, you have a lot of bad feeling weighing you down that you need to let go of to be at peace.” “How do I do that?” “I… don’t know.” Tubbo sighed, eyeing the scars on his hands and imagining where they run up his arms and torso, all the way up to his face. “I haven’t figured that one out yet either.”

Robin followed Tubbo’s gaze to his scarred hands, then to his face. “...what happened to you?” He took a deep breath, “It’s a long story but, essentially: I was found in a box on a roadside by a man who already had three sons and never really took to me. I fought a war for that country over there-” He gestured back in the direction of L’Manberg, its lights glowing softly through the trees. “-with two of the ‘brothers’ and we only just won. Then they lost this seat of power to a crazy old guy that made me be a part of his cabinet- It’s like a council?” He said, for the benefit of the confused child next to him. “I was spying on him so my brothers could take our home back, but he found out and executed me…” The two boys looked intently at each other as Tubbo trailed off, an awkward feeling settling over them both.

Then Robin broke it. “He executed you, and you’re alive? Did you reanimate or something? Come back to life?” Tubbo laughed nervously. “Like I said, things are a lot different now-” “You have gotta teach me how to do that.” And they got a good laugh out of that. “-but no, really. We fought one final war to get our home back, and we won, and they made me president, and for five minutes everything was fine, until two of the aforementioned brothers blew the whole place up and betrayed us.” The president startled again as Robin placed a ghostly hand on his arm, jarring him. “What about the last brother? Was he okay?” Tubbo felt a heavy weight settle over his heart. “Yeah,” And his voice became smaller than that of the young ghost’s. “He’s fine, except I exiled him from my country a few weeks ago, and I can’t even remember why now, it was so stupid and I miss him and-” The next thing he knew, the young boy had pulled him in for a hug, and Tubbo was a bit embarrassed by how emotional he’d gotten. “You weren’t kidding. Both of us have… some things to think about. But look!”

Tubbo pulled away, following the hand pointing upwards, not missing Robin smiling with hope in his eyes as he gripped Tubbo’s arm with the other hand. While they had been recounting their sob stories, the clouds had cleared. The two grieving, lost, lonely boys sat under a sky full of stars. “Doesn’t matter what you’ve done,” Robin said, dropping his outstretched arm. “The clouds can always clear. Maybe I should’ve fought it, tried to make something with my life instead of letting it be thrown away. Maybe you shouldn’t have sent your brother away. But the stars are still there. I’m not alone anymore: I have Corpse, the one who cared for me, who comes down to visit even now. And I’m sure you do too. Somebody, somewhere, who would come back for you. They can see the same stars.”

And at that moment, Tubbo knows exactly who Robin reminds him of. Himself.

[violetnotez]

Hawks x reader

⤷ Genre: Fluff

⤷ Word Count: 5300+

⤷ Warnings: mild cursing

⤷ Synopsis:  Hawks is completely head over heels when he meets the new side kick of Mirko, y/n, hero name Angel. After meeting y/n, Hawks begs Mirko to train the young hero himself, and starts a friendly relationship with her. But now Hawks wants to take it to the next level, and what better than a milkshake date to make her his.

This fic is for the @bnhabookclub Bingo Event! Here’s my masterlist to see all my work for this event!

Bingo Slot: Milkshake Date

This is my first time writing for Hawks, so hopefully its not too ooc! Also Im sorry if its kinda wordy? I feel like I just kinda went overboard!

Hawks sighed, his hands cradling  his head lazily in boredom.

Another mind numbing meeting to suffocate his precious hours.

It was hard not to be a little annoyed at these weekly hero meetings he was somehow tangled up into. He could be doing so much more with this time, like working on his own missions or even catching up on some very over do paperwork. But With the LOV and other various villain organizations on the rise, the heroes have noticed that now more than ever, citizens are desperate for some stability and reassurance from their beloved heroes. So, with the help of various hero agencies, they had devised a plan to have heroes patrolling the streets frequently, way more frequently than before to promote the image that “the heroes were in control” and “more powerful than ever before.”

What a load of crap that was.

Hawks fought the urge to roll his eyes and interrupt this pompous executive who had the nerve to preach to heroes, and the top rated ones at that. He was amused looking around, seeing how many well known heroes were still attending these obnoxious meetings-every one in the top 20  was in this room, including Endeavor and Mirko. That was typical for these heroes, since approval ratings were so important, but today was a little different. The size of the group had expanded, the seats now occupied with a few lower rank heroes, a couple sidekicks, and a few newbies that were gaining some popularity.

Hawks watched as the stiff looking executive pushed his glasses back to his nose tightly, a small cough clearing his throat.

“Now, I think it would be a wise time for all the newest joining heroes in our mission of peace to stand and say a few words,”

Oh great-now it was show and tell.

Hawks was  fighting the urge to outright humiliate this man in front of him for wasting so much of his time- it wasn't quite in his nature to keep his mouth shut. But, he had to admit that this was partially his fault: he had volunteered to be a part of this, and he had to respect the commitment he signed up for.

The man turnd to his right, his eyes trained on the Rabbit Hero herself.

“Miruko, would you like to introduce your sidekick first?” he asked, his voice monotone and serious.

Hawks instantly perked up at the man’s statement- so Miruko did bring along her sidekick? 

He had heard a little about the stir Miruko had worked up in the media when she announced she had a new sidekick. Miruko has notoriously built the image of “working alone”, so the fact she had taken on a new partner had thrown everyone in quite a loop. He personally wasn’t quite interested in digging himself too into the dramatic headlines, he was way too busy for that, but from the bits and pieces he heard, you showed promise.

Your quirk was powerful, you were great with civilians, and you were pretty efficient in battle. He was mutually intrigued by you, especially since your introduction was the one thing he found remotely interesting in this whole meeting.

Miruko grinned devilishly, her red eyes gleaming. 

“Sure thing,” she answered good naturally, her tough body standing up to introduce the person beside her. “As you all know by now, this is my new side kick-Angel,”

Oh and what a angel you were.

Hawks was completely enraptured by you, his eyes widening as he watched you stand up, your face coated in an incident look of nervousness and your pretty lips formed in a shy smile.

Man, if he knew how drop dead gorgeous you were, he would have made you his sidekick. 

He rested his head deeper into his gloved hand, a quiet whistle escaping his lips. 

And that hero suit wasn’t too bad either- your hero costume was sexy yet sleek, with a plunging white neckline and metal armor shaped like feathers that protected your shoulders. It was beautiful, elegant, and tantalizing to his eyes, his pupils hovering over each plush curve and indent of your tight body suit. 

Something caught Hawk’s eye, though, and he leaned in slightly to see what it was-something white and fluffy was twitching on both sides of you, the curve extremely familiar-until he realized: you had wings.

They weren’t anywhere as large as his, but they were much more, well, angelic than his. His wings were loud and prideful with their overpowering size and rich blood red color. They were durable, tough, and screamed for attention.

Your wings though were silent beauties, barely noticeable yet once seen took your breath away. The feathers were a delicate white like snow, and with careful inspections had a shimmer to them like stained glass in a cathedral. They were absolutely mesmerizing, and Hawks found himself staring at those wings as you began to introduce yourself.

“Hello,” he watched you timidly speak out. It was adorable to watch, your shoulders trying to show strength by being puffed out like a prideful little bird, but oh the way your smile trembled and your digits fidgeted showed just how wracked with nerves you were. “I am the Angelic hero-Angel. My quirk is that I can create a calming effect on people, as well as fly” 

Your eyes ghosted over the heroes in front of you, each face more stony and cold than the last. You finally gave a small glance at Hawks, his heart jumping in his chest. 

Your eyes were so warm and enticing, wanting to swallow him whole with those pretty irises swimming with pure sweetness. His cheek was pushed up against his hand as he sent you a mischievous wink your way, a  grin blossoming against his lips as he watched you become even more flustered than before.

His chest puffed up with pride as you sat down, knowing he had made a small impression on you. Maybe it was the dreariness of this meeting, or the fact he hadn't had any romantic endeavors in ages, but he had already gained a liking to you.

You walked out of the meeting, your head swarming and your heart pacing. Your first real hero meeting! You could practically scream with giddiness, electricity ebbing from your fingertips as you walked alongside your mentor, Miruko. 

It was a dream to be working alongside such a skilled and likeable hero as herself, and you couldn't be more thankful for the bunny hero for seeing potential in you. Being a year out of UA, it was expected for you to start interning or even becoming sidekicks in order to get a  headstart in the hero business. Even though Mirko was notorious for turning down any and all interns, you had applied to her agency and surprisingly has gotten in. 

Now you were working with one of the top dogs of the whole Hero industry, and the pressure of that was both exhilarating and terrifying.

“So, what do ya think of your first hero meeting?” Miruko asked, her red eyes gleaming as she walked alongside you as the rest of the heroes crowded out of the conference room.

“It was-interesting” you spoke carefully, your tongue trying to find the best words. It was exhilarating to be around all these heroes, from up and coming to even the #1, but you had to admit it wasn't as intense as you had imagined it to be. 

“Hella boring, huh?” Miruko interjected truthfully, her voice booming and unapologetic. “Eh, don't worry, these aren't every meeting. The team ups are better- alot more interesting things go on in those ones-”

Just then, a man dressed in a simple white shirt and black pants came up to the Bunny hero, a badge connected to his belt. 

“Hey detective, what can I do for you?” she asked goodnaturedly, her slim fingers wrapping around her hips.

“Im extremely sorry to bother you on such short notice, but we have a case currently revolving around a few villains you reprimanded last week and needed a testimony from you about their quirks-”

“Sure thing!” she grinned, her red eyes traveling from the detective down to you, ,”You think youll be okay? Ill only be gone for a few minutes,”

“O-of course! Ill be fine,” your smile wavered slightly, a small gulp being emitted from your throat. 

Alone? Around all these heroes? You didn’t feel too ready for that- but you had to start somewhere. It was time to rip off that band-aid and be one with the heroes.

You began to feel your hands get clammy all ready as you watched the scene in front of you, feeling like a goldfish in a tank of sharks.

“An actual angel walking on the ground-never thought I’d see the day,” you heard a male voice next to you, the tone nonchalant and mischievous. You turned to your side, the wind getting kicked out of your chest-

No. Damn. Way.

“Your Hawks-the Winged Hero,” you breathed out in shock, 

The hero smiled at you, his wide grin playful as he gazed at you with those piercing yellow eyes

“The one and only,” he said cockily.

You werent going to lie-Hawks was one of your favorite heroes, probably your all time favorite. He was so successful for his age, being only a few years older than you. His quirk was also extremely powerful, and he was a huge inspiration for you since his quirk was so similar to yours. Also, the fact that he was known to be kind of a flirt, on top of him being incredibly handsome, made you the biggest fangirl for him.

“Gotta say babe, your wings are pretty impressive-surprise you didn't apply to my agency,” the winged hero commented, his voice extremely calm and inviting.

But wait-did he just call you ‘babe’? Oh god-your heart began to pound against your chest, your cheeks feeling warm from the small word. 

You grinned slightly at the hero, your expression small and almost shy.

“How do you know I didnt?” You quipped, trying to sound calm as the attractive hero continued to give you that playful smirk.

“Oh believe me-I would have remembered if you did,” his voice almost dropped, sounding way more huskier than before. 

Christ-he really was a flirt. You could practically feel your heart banging against your rib cage, your hands feeling clammy and your cheeks quite warm.

 He was too teasing for his own good-but it was almost endearing, like he was trying to impress you.

It reminded you of birds during mating Season, the ones who would sing the prettiest songs in order to attract a mate-and really any mate. Hawks was probably just like that-say a few pretty things, and had some fun trying to get a girl hooked under those ruby red wings.

“But I don't blame you for going with Miruko,” he admitted,” she's one hell of a hero, probably the one of the best ones around,”

You cocked your head in confusion, a short wave of shock circling your body. Hawks seemed too cocky to say a positive remark about a hero-most of the time he was preaching about how the heroes played it too safe and the hero world needed a desperate change. He seemed to group all heroes into a category and gave himself a whole one to himself, as if he was different from everyone around him. 

So yeah, it was a little strange to hear him congratulate any hero really, but it feels your chest with pride-you definitely had to have made a good decision going with Miruko if the most judgmental hero in Japan seemed to approve. But you still felt a little guilty for making him think you only cared about getting in with Miruko and not any other hero.

“Well, I was planning on applying to more agencies,” you stated, an apologetic smile playing on your lips, “yours was on the list,

The hero chuckled at your remark, not taking you quite seriously. “Oh I bet-”

“It was, I promise!” You smiled at him, your tone trying to be reassuring. 

God, why did he have to be so-well-pretty? He was looking at you strangely, as if he was drinking you in as you continued to talk. His lemon yellow eyes were glazed over with adoration, and you couldn’t t help but be flustered by the sight.

“Its just-she took me on so quickly,” you gulped out, trying desperately to calm your beating heart, “ it was kinda shocking. I honestly was so excited I just took her offer and didn't think of going to other agencies,”

“Awww, Not even mind, angel?” He cooed out, his feathers vibrating with the small sound, “It would have been fun having you around-

“I promise, I would have applied to your agency in a heartbeat if she didn't accept me,” you reassured the hero.

He simply nodded, an accepting grin playing on his face as if he finally took your word for it. His gloved hands were hidden into his pant pockets, his Stance calm and comfortable.

“So, angel,” he asked, changing the subject,   “how long have you  been interning with Mirko?”

Something about this hero calling you “angel” felt different-of course it was your hero name, and of course he would call you by that but-it felt different coming from him. It sounded playful and flirtatious as if he was calling you by a secret little pet name only reserved for you. It may because of his coy antics or his seductive smirk, but it was making you feel warm and comfy inside.

“This will be my 3rd week,” you replied, your blush getting much worse 

“Third week, huh?” he said, his voice genuinely curious, “Has she been teaching you alotta things?”

“Oh yeah she's amazing!” you exclaimed. 

Mirko was the most amazing mentor and even more. Most sidekicks or interns had the worst time with big time heroes, always left on the back burner to do the heroes paperwork or simply do tedious errands for them without ever learning a single thing. But with Miruko, this wasn’t the case at all. 

This was a blessing and a curse-since you were always out on patrol with  the hero, the media had seem to take a liking to you. Not only were you always beaten up and tired, you had to now deal with being in the limelight since you were Miruko’s new sidekick, something the media never thought they’d see.

 “I’ve been patrolling, working on small cases, even being able to actually stop a few crimes- I think that's why the press is so on me,” you added, a nervous chuckle escaping your lips.

You heard the hero chuckle slightly, his wavy blonde hair shaking as he shook his head

“Aw, you really are a little baby bird-” he cooked at you, your eyebrows cocked in confusion.

A baby bird? 

He seemed to notice your confusion, a mischievous smirk playing on his lips.

“Ah don’t worry angel, I don’t mean anything bad by calling you that,” he stated, “You're not used to this whole hero thing. But promise me, you'll get used to it-,”

“Especially when they make dumb scandals about you-”

He added on, his tone more tired. It was true with Hawks being one of the Top 10 heroes and being as young as he is, he had his fair share of conspiracies and allegations revolving around him.

“Oh, like the one about your favorite food being chicken? I thought that one was hilarious”,” you giggled.

Hawks turned to you, his cheeky grin now turn to one coated in seriousness,

““Oh no, babe,  that one is completely real,”

You whipped around, your eyes blown out wide with shock

“What? Your joking-“

“Completely serious!” He laughed, his grin wide and mischievous, “Who doesn't love fried chicken! It's the best food in my opinion-ya can't go wrong with it,”

You gave him a playful look of distaste, your noise scrunched up.

 “Really? But it’s kinda, well, weird-“

Hawks groaned, but that smile was still plastered on his face. 

“Don’t tell me your siding with those tabloid writers,” 

“This time-maybe,” you giggled, a smile you were sporting uncontainable.

“Aw, Cmon angel, I was beginning to like you!” He chuckled playfully along with you

Finally as your laughs began to die down, a thought crossed your mind, and you turned to the Wing Hero With the question playing on your tongue.

“Ya know I've always wanted to ask you something,” you said, your eyes meeting the sun yellow orbs of Hawk’s

That smile was still tugging at his lips, making him look adorably young and boyish.

“Lay it on me babe-”

You swallowed thickly, a miix of nervousness and embarrassment filling your stomach.

“How to do you use your wings? In battle-or when you fly?”

It was Hawk’s turn to look confused, his fluffy eyebrows angled softly. He seemed to understand what you meant by how self conscious you look, a hint of sympathy playing in his eyes.

“Wait-” he said slowly,  “you mean you don't know how to use your wings?”

You cringed, hating how blunt the sentence sounded. It was true, you never really got the hang of using your wings. It was embarrassing to admit it, but it was something you had to work through. If you wre going to be a high ranking Hero you were going to need to be at 100% of your potential.

“Wll I-I do, I can float but I cant fly very high up-,” you stumbled out,” nowhere near your height though. And I want to be able to carry people and well- I just don’t know how to start,”

Hawk’s nonchalant girn was again on his face, “See, little chickadee, this is why you should have applied to my agency,” he joked.

You sighed exasperatedly 

“I know,” you smiled, “you have a  good point there,”

The gloved digits of Hawk’s hand wrapped around his chin, his lips pouted slightly in thought.

“Honestly, it took me a little bit to really get the hang of it- Ive been using my wings since I was a kid- so it might be some time for you to get the hang of yours”

“Id be up for helping you with some pointers,” He turned to you, a playful grin plastered on his cheeks. That smile would be the death of you- it somehow made your head feel incredibly cloudy and your legs feel like jelly. 

“ but you gotta promise me one thing,”

You cocked your head, your eyebrows stitched in confusion

“Whats that?”

You had never seen a more shit eating grin in your life- Haws gazed up at you, his eyes glinting devilishily

“Don't fly too high up-Can't be having an angel going back up to heaven” he said, making your cheeks incredibly hot as he walked away, knowing full well he had made you too flustered to even talk.

Damn- he really was a flirt

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ

“Great job, chickadee, your really getting the hang of this!” Hawks yelled out, his hands cupped over his mouth.

Your cheeks were red with pride and nervousness, your wings flapping against you as you hovered in the air. You were probably 3 stories high on Hawk’s agency building, your eyes trying to desperately to not look down. 

This was exhilarating to be so high up, but- it was terrifying!

Your heart was pacing against your chest, a heavy drum that was painfully raping against your rib age.

Don’t look down, don’t look down….damn it.

You caught a glimpse of your feet in midair, your steel plated boots almost floating over the street below as cars honked at each other and pedestrians walked along the asphalt.

The extremely hard, durable asphalt that could turn you into a human pancake in a matter of seconds.

The image of that terrible idea made your head swarm with panic- your wings flapping haphazardly as you flew backwards back to the safety of the balcony.

This was too much-this height was insane. Hawks was insane- how could he even fly comfortably at this height!

Hawks had been training you a few days a week, something you were extremely grateful for- you were know working as a sidekick with one of the top heroes and having private lesson with the #2 hero?! You honestly couldn't be more grateful-

Until he decided to make you fly by yourself on top of an extremely high building. On your 5th lesson! How crazy could this man be?

You weren't even noticing how fast your wings were flying backwards until your feet hit the firm tiles of the balcony. It took you by surprise, another pit slamming your chest as you tried to catch yourself from falling on your face, your feet shuffling backwards in an attempt to find some grounding.

So you chickened out of an exercise (something Hawks was definitely going to joke about) and now you were going to bruise your ass from falling in front of your favorite hero /crush. Just great.

“Whoa there, babe, slow down!”

You felt a pair of gloved hands grab ahold of your waist, the hands firm and tight against your ribcage. You could practically hear the laughter in Hawk’s voice, as if he found your fail incredibly amusing. 

Your cheeks were heating up, realizing how close you were to the hero- his chest was pressed up against your back, and you could feel his chin grazing against your windswept hair.

“So,” he asked, his voice taking on a more husky tone, “how’d it feel when you fell from heaven?”

God, that voice- hearing him flirt so close to your ear made his words sound way too intimate, making your back tingle and your cheeks blaze red.

An exasperated groan slipped from your lips, your body pushing away from Hawk’s as he began to chuckle at your flusteredness.

“You were just dying to say that, huh?”

“What, you can't blame a guy!” he said between laughs, “you did set me up for it.”

You rolled your eyes playfully, your back turning away from him in an attempt to hide your obvious blush.

“You're still a little scared to fly high, huh?” Hawks tone was calm and nonchalant, making you feel grateful that he wasn't too mad at you for freaking out so suddenly.

You tucked a piece of hair self consciously behind your ear. It was so frustrating to you- you were gifted with these wonderful wings, yet you could barely use them “Yeah, a little,” you sighed, “its just-I don't know how to get over it, and it feel like I'm not improving fast enough-”

Hawks sent you a sympathetic smirk, his lemon yellow eyes gleaming in the golden rays of sunset. 

“Ah dont put too much pressure on yourself Angel, you'll get it eventually!”

“And besides,” he added, “you have been getting better- before we started you could barely flap your wings...now look at you! You flew over a whole street for almost 5 minutes!”

His smile was beaming, his tone so supportive and kind. Times like this you almost wished you had chosen to apply to be Hawk’s sidekick- he was so carefree and positive about everything. he somehow made every situation feel like a milestone, no matter how little you improved, and it made you feel a little better about your progress.

You gave him a meek smile, the cruddy feeling of failure still sinking in your chest.

“Aw, don't give me that sad face, angel,” he cooed, “you're gonna be just fine- you'll see,”

Still- you couldn't seem to get out of your saddened daze, even with his overwhelming positivity. 

Hawks seemed to notice, the usually chatty man suddenly quiet. It was strange to see him like that,as he rubbed his pointer finger against his stubbled chin, deep in thought.

“Ya know, I think I know just what you need,” he finally said, his tone warm like honey, “you need a small break- something to take your mind off of all this.”

“There’s a little diner on the West side of town- it's got the best comfort food you've ever tasted, and you can really taste the flavor in their meals,” Hawk sent you a glimmering smile, one that could stop your heart in a matter of seconds.

 “What do ya say, angel, down for some grub? It'll be my treat, promise.”

Free food and you get to spend time with your mentor/crush? You sighed, a smile creeping onto your lips. 

“Sure, why not,”

  ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ

And thats how you ended up here, in a little whole in the wall diner near Hawk’s apartment.

The restaurant was decorated to look relatively old, 1950’s memorabilia plastered on the walls and even a jukebox playing dance music from the era playing softly in the background.

The place was quite adorable in your opinions, and you really couldnt understand how Hawks had even found the place.

Until you realized- they had the best fried chicken you ever eaten in your whole life

Hawks wasnt lying when he said the food was good-it was incredible, the flavors and textures so warm and crisp as they dissolved on your tongue. 

You two had gobbled up the meal, hungry from a days worth of training. The milkshakes Hawks had ordered for you two after was just was as amazing as the food itself, the creamy dessert cooling against your throat and making your whole body tingle with joy

It also helped that Hawks was the best partner to eat, with his bizarre stories and crazy antics having you giggling between bites, sometimes making you forget to eat as you got sucked in to his crazy retellings.

You two had finally finished, your stomachs full and genuine smiles gracing your cheeks.

You sighed in content, a smile gracing your lips 

“The food was amazing Hawks, thank you-”

You had honestly never seen Hawks looks so domestic- he was sporting a simple white tee and dark jeans, a gold watch adorning his wrist. You guessed the hero had to always wear something somewhat flashy but still- it was strange to see him so casual. 

But you werent complaining- it made him more approachable and lovable in a way, making your dinner feel less like a meal between colleagues but between close friends.

You watched Hawks wave his hand, stopping your sentence in its tracks.

“Call me Keigo,” he interrupted, a playful grin plastered on his cheeks, “since I took you out to dinner, I think its only right for you to call me by my actual name,”

You gulped, your eyes wide with shock-the Hawks gave you permission to call him by his real name?

The fangrl in you wanted to scream and to jump up and down like an excited 12 year old. Thankfully, the practical side of you pushed those urges deep down, only the shock of his sentence riddling throughout your body

“Right uh- Keigo,” you gulped out, “-I definitely owe you one for showing me this place,”

“Your welcome angel, its my pleasure,”

You smiled softly, your lips pursed slightly from nervousness.

“Ya know,” you said, your tone soft and open. “you dont have to call me by my hero name either if you dont want to,” 

If he was being so welcoming with you, shouldn't you do the same? He had taken you to dinner after all, and even paid for you, even after you had insisted he didnt have to. Hawks-Keigo- was being so kind to you, you had to at least do something in return. 

“- you can call me by my real name,”

A hum rumbled from Hawk’s chest, his hand stroking his stubble chin.

“Thats true but the thing is- I like calling you angel”

He sent you a flirtatious smirk from across the table, making your heart stop beating in its tracks. Keigo was a piece of work to understand- one minute he was being supportive like a mentor would be to their student, and the next he was flirting with you like he was trying to pick up a girl at a bar. Was this really how he acted with everyone? Or just-you?

You cocked your head in confusion, your cheeks hot from his sentence.

“Why?”

He grinned, his sultry yellow eyes trained on yours.

“Its like Im calling you by a pet name, like ‘babe’ or ‘dove’,” he explained, taking a pause to place his words correctly,” but it's more...personal.”

That shit eating grin was evident on his face again, making him look boyish as he leaned in towards you.

“its also kinda cute when you get all flustered when I say it,”

Well-crap.

“I-I dont get flustered,” you stuttered, making your lie blatantly obvious.

The man chuckled, obviously loving every second of this.

“Then why are you blushing angel?” he taunted sweetly,

 “Don't think for a second I didn’t notice your little crush on me,”

Oh no.

This wasnt good.

God, you knew you blushed alot but- how dumb of you to not assume he knew you liked him! You wanted to crawl in a hole, to just dissolve into the ground and disappear.

“I dont have a crush on you- your just my mentor, your just helping me-” you denied his accusation, your voice desperate to prove it to him and yourself.

You didnt have feeling for this Hero, you couldnt, he was just someone who helped you, you shouldnt like him like this-

“Aww lets not lie to ourselves little dove, you dont have to be so defensive,” he was smiling at you so wide, as if he was being reassuring. But something was different about this smile, and the way he looked at you- it was so tender and almost-nervous?

“Why do you think I took you to this place? It wasnt just to get your mind off of training you know,”

You stared at him in complete confusion.

That was why he had taken you here right? To cheer you up-but then again, Keigo didn't have to do this. He could have just patted you on the back and said “Good job.” He didn't have to take you to his favorite restaurant, buy you a meal, and even dessert, and tell you all his most interesting and sometimes embarrassing stories. He didn't have to lend you his jacket that you were wearing right now after you said you were cold, or promise to drive you home once it was got dark. He didn't have to do any of these things-but he did.

“Wait- This-this is a date, isnt it?” you stated bluntly, the revelation hitting you like a ton of bricks.

Keigo smiled timidly at you, the first time you had ever seen him look so nervous

“Only if you want it to be,” he chuckled, trying to sound nonchalant.

He sighed, clearly riddled with nerves as  his eyes staring down at his watch, trying to find the best words

“I-I know this is kinda sudden,” he finally said, “ and I should have told you straight before taking you here, but- I like you. Your fun ,and snarky, and so goddamn beautiful it makes my head spin. You make me smile so much, and I-I want to be with you.”

Hawks looked up at you, those bright hazel eyes staring at you with such love it took your breath away. You felt your whole body feel warmth, like honey was now flooding your veins. You honestly never imagined the hero to ever have feelings for you, but with this confession hanging in the air, you couldn’t feel happier.

“What do ya say, angel,” he asked, his hand stretching across the table and encasing yours, “ wanna give this a go?” 

You stared down at that hand, seeing his digits wrap so effortlessly around yours. It felt natural, yet exhilarating , a low, pleasant buzz forming from the small touch. It just felt-right.

“Sure,” you smiled, your fingers now curling around his, “ lets do it,”

Taggings (if you want to be added to the tag list, just shoot me an ask! Im also trying to work on an official tag list post, so you might see that soon! ) 

@weebartistinc @orokayagi @leeeah-loooser @bakarinnie

[il0veyoujk]

Unusual roommates

Summary: Nefeli (18) is moving to a new house in the middle of the forest in Seoul. The only thing she doesn’t know is that her new home is haunted...

Warnings: Light mention of harsh language

Notes: None

Τhis is a tickle related ff, if you are not interested in it, please keep scrolling

Lots of love Nef 💕

Nefeli was currently peacefully reading a book on her apartment in Daegu. The weather outside was sunny so she was sitting on her hammock swing near her large window, a mug of fragrant hot chocolate on her other hand.

The 18-year-old girl was enjoying her favorite book, Oliver Twist by Charles Dickens to be specific when her phone started vibrating on the glass coffee table in front of her.

She looked at the ID but she didn’t recognize it and her face lit up. She only hoped it was the owner of the house she wants to move to, in Seoul.

You see Nefeli needed to move to Seoul due to her studies as a journalist and she needed a house as well.

“Hello?”

“Hey, are you Nefeli? I am Min Sangwook, we talked some days ago for the house” the voice of an old man around his late 70s echoed the other line, with softness in it.

“Yes, this is me. Anything new about the house?” the young girl asked politely, with a cheery but calm tone. She was trying her best not to give hope to herself. Mr Sangwook had told her that it would be a little difficult for her to buy this house too soon since they didn’t know how long it would take them to find a new one.

“Yes, you can come to sign contracts even today and then stay in the house. We have already found our new home” he explained politely.

Nefeli used all her might not to scream or jump and fall off of her hammock swing. Finally, she was moving to start a new life!

“Thank you thank you thank you thank you! I will be there tomorrow afternoon! Thank you so much!” she exclaimed, the chuckles of the old man as a background.

“Then I guess me and my wife will see you tomorrow then”

“Yes of course! Thank you once again mr Min! I owe you!” she hung up and rushed to her bedroom to pack her things up. She threw inside her huge, red suitcase all her clothes, which were already folded, her jewelry, some photos and room decorations from her room.

She got out of her pocket her phone and dialed the first person she wanted to let her know what was happening, back in Greece where she was raised “Hey mum! You will never guess who called me!”

 Next day, afternoon:

Nefeli was currently in her car, driving to the house she was supposed to go to.

One of her favorite songs, Believe In You by Amanda Marshall was echoing the car cabin, relaxing the young girl’s souls and helping her calm down, giving her confidence and self-esteem up.

 I believe in you And all I want to do is help you to Believe in you

 As the song was coming to an end, Nefeli’s car was entering a dark forest filled with tall, somehow scary trees. It was almost night and the sky had golden and orange near the ground and as the vision was raising the colors were become darker and more bluish.

As the car was moving more into the woods, she spotted an old house, with a nice, wooden balcony. The building was on a glade, in the very middle of the forest, circled my trees.

She wasn’t gonna lie, the house was scary. As the sun was falling onto the walls, weird and terrifying shadows were forming, like they were young lads while the sound of a light, summer breeze was brushing the leaves was mixed with the nice smells of the fresh grass.

Outside of the house, there was mr and mrs Min, holding hands and sitting on the outside couch on the balcony, drinking some really tasty tea and chitchatting. They both seemed really sweet, warm, and lovable people.

Nef parked the car near the house, next to the owners’ car, and grabbed her backpack. As she was walking near the couple, she heard small giggles coming from the walls of the house and she felt shivers running down her spine. Let’s be honest, the house was a little -a lot- creepy and those sounds weren’t the best ones she could hear. I mean, it was an old house, in the middle of nowhere, in the forest, and it was dark outside. How idyllic! Note the sarcasm.

“We are so happy you are here!” mrs Min told me, shaking her hand. She was an old woman, around her early 70s, a little younger than her husband.

“It’s my pleasure” the young girl smiled warmly. “Can we sign the contracts please?” she asked excitedly, making the owners chuckle.

“Sure, here are the papers and a pen, we hope you like the house” mr Min said, smiling nervously.

To be honest, Nefeli always wanted to live away from the town, in the middle of nowhere, not having people and car horns annoying her and unhealthy smoke hurting her lungs, considering the fact she had asthma, and the fresh air of the forest was exactly what she needed. Plus she would live peacefully. The house may be a little creepy, but she could handle that. She didn’t believe in ghosts and all anyway.

She picked up the pen and scribbled on the papers her signature with excitement. However, as soon as she scribbled on the paper, she felt something scribbling on her lower back, making her squeal and giggle.

The old couple looked at her weirdly and she cleared her throat, shaking that feeling off of her mind, thinking it may only be some soft air.

“Do you want us to give you a quick tour?” mr Sangwook asked her, but she kindly denied, wanting to explore her new place by herself. “Alright then, if you need anything you have our phone. I have seen the money you gave us in my bank account, don’t worry about it. Tomorrow morning we will have our furniture moved so as you can have your own here” the man smiled kindly as she opened the car door for his wife to enter and then proceeded to go to the driver seat

“Thank you so much! Have a nice ride!” she waved at them as she was watching them exiting the forest, leaving her alone.

When they were out of her vision, Nefeli turned around to take a glance at the house and she felt shivers running down her spine. It was like the now almost dark sky was swallowing it and it seem more intimidating than before. And that was what she loved more about it. When her furniture arrives, the place is gonna look so vintage!

She took a deep breath and entered the old building, feeling a cold breeze brushing behind her shoulders and the back of her neck, straightening every hair she had on her body. But she still wanted like hell to live there. It was the best place she had ever seen!

She took a step inside the house and looked around. The inside of the living room was all old and wooden. The kitchen was in the same room as the living room and there were three bedrooms and one bathroom. The two bedrooms were simple, with no decoration at all, and the bathroom was white with a blue bath. Nothing special.

She closed the door behind her and set the suitcase on the floor next to her. She roam around the living room, a big grin on her face. Nefeli plopped herself on the couch, lying on her back.

As she took a better glance over the place, she spotted something weird. Hairbrushes, feathers, toothbrushes, and many other things which were usually used for... tickling.

The more she was staring at them the more she was feeling more agitated. The more she was staring at them, the more she was feeling pokes on her sides. Nefeli was probably too ticklish to even look at the tools. She had never experienced them, not even a feather, but she was getting nervous just by the thought. She was super sensitive. Like it wasn’t even funny how ticklish she was, and all of her friends were taking advantage of it. Like, they would poke her sides from behind every chance and when she’d something cheeky they would tickle her. (a/n true stories lmao)

The only thing is that she has never been tickled on her feet, and those hairbrushes were making her feel the most nervous. She knew she was extremely ticklish on her feet, but she had never received tickles there, except some foot rubs which was tickling her like hell, but she was trying her best not to show it because it was caused by her own mother, and she was feeling too uncomfortable.

“Nononononononoo” she squealed and jumped on her feet, grabbing all of them and hiding them in the first cupboard she saw, sighing in relief when they were out of her vision.

Just then she felt jabs on her sides, making her jump and start giggling alone, not knowing why. “Hehehehehe” she pressed herself onto the wall and immediately all the pokes stopped. “What the fuck was that?!” she exclaimed, unable to hide her leftover giggles.

“I guess I need to go to bed, I imagine things” she sighed and walked to the bedroom to change into her pajamas. It was still the middle of August, so she decided to wear her cropped ones. She set all her clothes into her new closet and plopped on the bed, pulling the sheets up to her shoulder, drifting to sleep.

 Some hours after that:

It was the middle of the night and everything was peaceful outside. Nefeli was sleeping on her bed, dreaming about her new house and how she is gonna decorate it when something woke her up.

Something feeling like she was being... tickled... on her knees.

Nefeli shot up and started kicking on her bed, trying to get that feeling vanished but she wasn’t doing much. She was only able to laugh and laugh and laugh and nothing seem to work to make the feeling stop.

“Whahahahahat ihihihihis thahahahahat?!” she yelled in-between her laughter. The mysterious touch was now moving behind her knees, digging there, making the poor girl throw herself back on the mattress and laugh loudly. Thankfully no one could hear her.

With all her strength, in a shift move, she sat up and reached down to the spot which was being tickled, only to grab... nothing!

She started feeling worried and weird and even scared. “Nahahahaha! Stahahahap” she laughed. However, it came out more like a command than amusement.

Lemme give you a fun fact about Neffie. When she says stops, and she means it, you always can understand that. It will come out as a yell and not as laughter. And trust me, she is able to scare someone with that tone.

As soon as she said that, all the tickling stopped and she heard giggles filling her room. A knot formed in her stomach as she heard those giggles. It was like ghosts were mocking her! ‘Is the house haunted?!’

Just as she thought that a boy appeared in front of her, with small eyes and a gummy smile, winking at her, and then vanished.

Nefeli’s eyes widened and screamed loudly, hiding under the sheets fastly, having a panic attack. She curled up in a small ball of herself, trying to protect herself from possible tickles, but nothing came.

Instead, she felt sleep circling her and her nerves relaxing. It was really weird how fast she felt sleepy in the middle of a panic attack, but she couldn’t help it. She felt an arm rubbing her lower back, helping her sleep more relaxing and without any more disturbing or fear at all.

Just as she was ready to fall asleep, she heard a heave voice whispering in her ear “Goodnight Neffie” and with that she passed out, sleeping sweetly.

 Next afternoon:

Her furniture was finally here and the old one was moved to Choi’s house and Nefeli was over the moon. She had already decorated her room with her favorite posters of her favorite band like Three Days Grace, Arctic Monkeys, and Linkin Park, she had set her bookcase in her room, next to the door, and placed small, fairy lights on her books, photo frames of her and her family and her friends on the window sill, her couch and armchairs in the living room, near the fireplace, and her favorite hammock swing on the balcony.

The young girl was currently sitting on this specific swing, continuing the same book she was reading two days ago, the day mr Sangwook phoned her. She had a faded memory of what had happened last night, believing it was a weird dream and she decided to continue her life without it messing her head.

The weather had started getting a little chilly so she was wearing her fluffy, grey socks and her black sweatpants along with a light hoodie jacket, along with a cub of mint chocolate chip ice cream on her lap.

Nefeli was on the part of the book where Sikes beats Nancy to death in a fit of rage when she heard whispers coming from her behind her. She turned her head, with fear running in her veins, to see who was there. However, behind her was only the wall.

She picked up her phone and dialed mr Min’s number, waiting for him to pick it up. The whispers were keeping going and the blood in her veins was turning cold as the seconds were passing by.

“Hello?” the old man picked up the phone faster than Nef expected.

“Hello, mr Sangwook? It’s Nefeli” the young girl said and everyone could notice the nervousness in her voice.

“Nefeli? Is everything alright?” he asked worriedly, expecting her to say something like a wolf is in her house or something like that.

“Um, I wanted to ask you if everything is alright with the house. Because I can hear weird whispering of giggles coming from the walls since I moved in” Nefeli explained, looking around her to understand who was whispering.

“Oh yeah, I understand what is happening. You may see some mice in the house, don’t worry, it’s not people” mr Min explained and Nefeli sighed in relief. She is not afraid of mice and she believes they are cute. And she knows they are making weird noises, so she believed it.

“Okay, thank you! Have a nice day!”

“You too Nefeli! And if you need anything, don’t hesitate to call us!”

They hung up and Nefeli, returned to her book, humming on Still Loving You by Scorpions.

She raised her vision to take a glance around the trees and her heart melted. The peaceful silence of the forest, the birds’ singing mixed with the light breeze which was brushing against the summer leaves was sending her into what felt like heaven.

All that she ever wanted was silence. Nothing else. Of course, she likes being with people, communicate, having fun, partying, and all, but when she is home, she just wants to be alone, in silence, doing whatever she wants. And this house in the middle of the forest was like his paradise.

She was ready to turn to the next page when her phone started vibrating next to her. She picked it up and it was her best friend, Zoe who was calling her.

“Heyooo!” she cheered happily and placed the book on the glass table next to her, not forgetting to mark the page she was at.

“You are coming over for a coffee and I am not taking no as an answer” her friend playfully commanded, making Nefeli mentally giggle.

You see Zoe was a childhood friend of Nefeli, but she had moved to Seoul some years ago. They were always meeting when Nefeli was coming there or Zoe was returning to Daegu.

“Okay, I will be there in fifteen minutes” Nefeli smiled and before she could, Zoe had already hung up. She rushed to her car, pulling out and driving to her friend’s house.

The car drive was short and fast. The roads were surprisingly almost empty and the music from her radio was the only thing she could hear. Bang Bang by Monophonics was echoing the car cabin and she was murmuring the lyrics.

However, the only thing which was in her mind was the giggles. She couldn’t believe that those giggles were coming from a mouse. Something was up with that house, but she couldn’t find what.

One thought crossed her mind. That the house was haunted. But she couldn’t believe it. Nefeli doesn’t believe in ghosts, supernatural things, next lives, and all. She believes only in what scientists can explain and only in what she can see or touch. So there was no way she would believe that the house she was living in was haunted. ‘Nonononono, something else must be up here’

She was so caught up in her thoughts that she didn’t notice the tall, blond girl who was waving at her from the edge of the road.

Nefeli pulled over and rushed out of the car, into her friend’s embrace, a wave of happiness feeling her.

“I missed you so much!- I missed you too!” they said in unison and then burst into laughter. They had so much time to spend some time together. “Let’s go inside girl” Zoe threw her hand over Nef’s shoulders and they both went inside the house.

  After 30 mins:

“And I hear weird giggles and whispers from the house!” Nefeli had finally finished with the storytime and the two girls both took a ship from their hot chocolates.

“Wait, you mean you live at the house of the Hysterical Ghosts?” Zoe asked more seriously than ever, looking straight into Nef’s eyes like she was the teacher and Nefeli was a student.

Nefeli couldn’t help but start giggling hard. “The what? That’s the most ridiculous thing I have ever heard Zoe! What in the world is that now?”

The blond girl rose an eyebrow at Nefeli and stared at her in disbelief “You mean you don’t know the thrill of the town?” Nefeli shook her head, unable to contain her giggles. She believed that her childhood friends would know her better than that.

Zoe sighed and moved closer to the young journalist “It said that seven lads were living in that house some years ago. When they would come to the town, no one would talk to them and people would always be afraid of them. It was believed that they would torture innocent people just to have fun, that’s why every time someone would pass by that house, they could hear hysterical laughter coming from inside. It is said that it was their laughter of amusement. The locals still say that they were all killed by a young boy who was to be tortured by them and that the house is still haunted by their spirits”

As soon as Zoe was finished, Nefeli’s jaw was on the ground. To be fair, she absolutely and completely LOVES those types of stories. She doesn’t believe in them, but they are so interesting and they are fascinating the 18-year-old girl really much.

“Omg! Really?! Dude, this is the best myth I have ever heard!” Nefeli yelled in excitement, bouncing on the couch.

She was gonna write a story about it, for real. Nefeli has an account on Wattpad and she is posting her stories and this myth about the ‘Hysterical Ghosts’ was giving her inspiration.

However, as soon as Nef saw the clock on the wall, her eyes widened. It was near the time of the Curfew and her house was 15 mins from there.

“I have to go, I don’t wanna pay a fine because of Corona” the young girl laughed and collected her things to get out of her friend’s house, Zoe following close behind her.

“See ya later! And be careful of the ghosts!” Zoe remind Nef, not joking at all, which only made Nef giggle and shake her head. “Yeah, the ghosts are gonna eat me” she smiled and Zoe sighed. “I am being serious, be careful”

“See ya later Zoe”

“See ya later Nef”

And with that the young journalist drove away, going back to her new house.

The drive back home was silent. For the first time in her life, Nefeli didn’t need to listen to some music. However, what her friend told her about the ghosts couldn’t leave her mind. She wasn’t believing it, but something deep inside her was scared. Like, all those nonsense about ghosts was completing this weird puzzle.

‘What if I am indeed living in a haunted house?’ she asked herself, continuing driving, talking to herself driving the whole ride.

Suddenly the thought of her new house is already owned by those ghosts started scaring her. Especially the specific ghosts. Boys who were torturing innocent people for their fun. And now their spirits were haunting every new owner who was staying in this house.  She felt shivers down her spine but tried to brush them off of her mind ‘C’mon Neffie, you don’t believe in this, no one has ever proved that ghosts exist, you have never seen one, don’t let a stupid myth scare you’ she kept trying to calm herself down.

She entered the forest and immediately a weird and tingling aura surrounding her, straightening all the hairs on her body. Like the whole area was... enchanted... It was like she was being followed by something eerie. And that the forest locked when she entered

However, she shook it off and continued driving, trying to forget about what Zoe told her.

She pulled out next to her new home, having almost convinced herself that her friend was saying only nonsenses. She got out of her car, opening her phone to scroll through Instagram, her back still on her shoulder.

She got out of her black backpack her keys to open the door, still feeling that tingling on her spine, but trying to ignore it.

She opened her door and immediately she froze, letting her bag falling on the ground, her jaw along it. On the couch, there were three boys, their feet on the table in front of it, and four others were sitting crossed legs... on the air!

All the heads snapped towards her with shocked expressions on their faces. The four ones who were on the air fell on the floor brutally, and the rest of them shot up from their seats, looking at the girl with their mouths wide open.

“Um hi?” the tallest one, who was now on the floor, said, coming out more like a question than a greeting. He had dirty blonde hair and brown eyes.

Nefeli let out an incredibly loud scream and rushed out of the house, trying to make it to her car. She was ready to grab the handle of the car door when she felt two strong arms being wrapped around her waist and being carried back to her house.

The young girl started screaming loudly and thrashing around, trying to get out of the grip “No! Lemme go! Please! Don’t hurt me!”

The strong grip put her down on the couch, not even caring to take in mind her protests. The lad placed her down on the couch and sat next to her with a cold expression. He was a short guy, with small eyes and cute lips. His eyes were dark brown, his hair had a mint green color and pierced ears.

A nice, a little taller boy with light brown hair and dark brown eyes kneeled in front of her, placing his hands on the couch, smiling softly yet worryingly.

Nefeli pushed herself on the back of the couch, as another boy with black hair and dark brown eyes sat next to her, equally short as the one on her other side. He had the same smile the one in front of her had, his ears pierced as well.

She had a terrified expression on her face, bringing her legs on her chest, hugging them tightly, and looking at all the boys who were circling her, everyone with the same shocked yet anxious expression on her face. She had started believing what her friend told her some minutes before and she was really scared.

“Please don’t hurt me, I’m begging you, I’ll do everything you’ll tell me, just please don’t hurt me!” she yelled, and placed her head n between her knees.

“Hurt you? Why would we ever hurt you?” a boy with red hair and dark brown eyes, with pierced ears and tattoos on his hand asked confused, with puppy dog eyes.

Nefeli rose her vision and looked at all seven of them, ready to burst into tears “Y-you won’t?”

The boys looked at each other confusingly, like Nefeli was telling them the weirdest thing “Of course not, why would we?” another one asked, with large shoulders and weird-shaped finger, blond hair, brown eyes, and a deeper.

“Don’t tell us you believe what everyone says about us...” another one said, with black hair and brown eyes, equally tall as the tattooed one, a hurt of disappointment and hurt in his voice.

“H-How do you k-know?” she shuttered, still not uncurling herself from the small ball she had formed herself. She was feeling truly afraid. Whatever she thought wasn’t existing, was now in front of her, talking to her like they were alive.

The lads shared a look and sighed deeply. “We are not going to hurt you, don’t worry,” the short, smiley one said, sadness taking a place on his smile and voice.

“Who are you?” Nefeli asked, gaining some confidence, but still hiding behind her legs.

“What do you wanna know about us?” the tallest one asked, seriously, trying to hide his emotions behind a stern voice. Nefeli was taken aback by the sternness of his voice and pressed herself more on the cushions on her back, making everyone understand they were scaring her.

“Namjoon, don’t scare her!” the sweet one in front of her scolded the tall, whose name is apparently Namjoon, and then turned to her with a soft smile, rubbing her leg.

And Nefeli surprisingly didn’t flinch.

“We are not what people think Nefeli, we never hurt people, neither physically nor mentally. We could never” he said, his eyes sparkling and screaming honest.

How could she trust them tho? She didn’t even know if they were real or if she was dreaming again. Wait- Was that indeed a dream she had had last night? Or was it them? What the hell was going on?

“Then?”

“We just wanted to make people happy! I mean, I am sure you have already understood and you know we are ghosts, I guess” he said, while everyone else remained silent.

“Who are you? What do you want from me then?” she asked, earning glances from every boy.

“I am Hoseok,” he sweet boy in front of her said “This is Yoongi, then Jimin” he pointed to the short ones “Jungkook, Taehyung” he continued with the red-haired one and the deep-voiced one “And then Namjoon and Jin” he finished with the tallest one the boy with the large shoulders and smiling softly at her, his sweet lips and nose making her melt.

“Call me Jin” he smiled warmly at her, giving her a feeling of hospitality and love. She smiled back and nodded her head

“And we don’t want anything from you Nefeli. We just live here as well as you” Namjoon explained with cute eyes sparkling.

However, except for melting, that made her more upset. There was no way Nefeli was gonna live in a haunted house. Especially with ghosts! Like, no! She bought that house because she wanted to be alone! Not because she wanted to live with freaking ghosts!

“B-But I moved here because I wanted to live by myself, not with seven um... boys” she was feeling weird to say in their face that they were ghosts. It was not polite.

“Don’t worry about it, we are not gonna have any communication if you don’t wanna! We don’t wanna be a burden to you” Jimin assured next to her.

Nefeli immediately felt really bad. It was like she was feeling like she was stealing their home. Where they had lived their life! Where they had spent and they still spend memorable moments. And they weren’t the ones who people were said to be. She could see it in their eyes. The moment she got terrified they were gonna hurt her, the sadness that filled their eyes and faces cannot be described with words. It was sure they could not even hurt a single ant, how could they hurt the young journalist? They couldn’t.

“No! You are not a burden to me!” she semi-yelled and sat crossed legs on the couch, holding a pillow.

How could she make them feel like that? It was terrible! She shouldn’t have said that! It was so mean...

However, the next words shocked her...

“Of course not, you are a burden to us” Yoongi hissed next to her, and then he vanished, leaving an unbearable silence behind him, filling the room.

Nefeli was beyond shocked, even tho the boys didn’t seem as much as her.

“I um...” she tried to say something but nothing came out. She was unable to. No one had ever talked to her like that. What had she done now?

“Don’t worry Nefeli, you are not a burden. He is just um, emotionally attached with the house” Jungkook explained, playing with his fingers, not daring to look at her.

And she only nodded. Like she could do something else...

“Ahhh, I think I may go and calm him down a little” Hoseok said, looking at the ground, “Sorry for that sweetie” and with that he vanished as well.

“Nefeli don’t worry, we are not gonna have much communication with you, you can have your life, and we can have yours” Namjoon explained and they all vanished, except Jimin.

“If you need anything, you can always call us, we will be around” he smiled and left too, leaving her more confused. ‘I guess I just found my new roommates...’ she sighed and went straight to bed.

 Next morning:

Nefeli woke up from hysterical laughing coming from... nowhere... And then it hit her. The boys.

She looked at her clock and groan in frustration. 10:26 in the morning. Nefeli was the hugest sleepyhead on the whole wide universe and she was planning on sleeping till midday, however, the boys had other plans.

She got up from her comfy bed and got inside her bathroom to do her business. She applied lotion on her skin and brushed her teeth before she goes to the kitchen to make some vanilla caramel tea. However, the laughter didn’t die down. It was being kept going. Sometimes some giggles, sometimes hysterical laugher. Sometimes loud, sometimes quiet. Sometimes hiccupy, sometimes airy. Sometimes normal, sometimes hoarse. But it never ended.

She was putting some honey in her tea, when it died down, making her relieved. Finally, her ears could rest. Too much noise for so early in the morning. She hoped that now she lived alone she could have the quiet she wants. But no...

However, she did not want to give in and leave the house. She didn’t have the money anyway. So she was stuck with them.

She turned around, taking a ship from her hot tea, only to spill it out in shock. Jungkook was standing behind her, ready to grab a glass of the cupboard, all red, sweat dropping off of his forehead and drained tears on his cheeks, as a grin was forming on his face. “What the hell?!” she yelled, almost dropping the mug.

“Oh I am sorry Nefeli, I didn’t mean to scare you, I just wanted some water, I am a little tired,” he said casually like he didn’t just appear out of nowhere.

“I am sure you are” Nefeli mumbled jokingly and took a sip from her tea, smiling softly. She didn’t mind the tickling, the laughter, and all, at all, she just wanted her sleep back tho.

Jungkook smirked and walked past her, to the sink to pour some water. Nefeli grinned widely and drank some more, enjoying the sweet flavor. But she didn’t have too much time to swallow properly because the mug was being grabbed off of her hands, placed on the table, and she felt hands kneading fastly her sides, making her scream and then fall into hysterical laughter, trying to pry the fingers off of her, without success of course.

“NAHAHAHA!” she cried and fell on the ground, kicking the air, laughing loudly.

“Hmm, jackpot” Jungkook teased, kneading faster but softly her sides and bringing his face closer to hers, smirking from ear to ear. He was clearly enjoying that. And it would be a major lie if Nef would say she wasn’t enjoying that too.

“PLEAHAHAHAHASE!” Nefeli tried to grab his wrist, but every time he would move his hands higher or lower her sides, driving her crazy.

She was rolling on the floor, rosy cheeks and a huge grin on her face as she was kicking the air and was trying to stop the fingers. However, she was doing it in a way where she wasn’t really stopping him. It wasn’t like she really wanted him to stop.

“Looks like someone is more ticklish then” Jungkook winked at her, bending down fastly and blowing a short raspberry on her side, making her scream even louder. One more positive thing about that house; no one could listen to her shrieks.

Jungkook proceeded and pinned her arms above her head, doing the only one thing which tickles her more than anything; he nibbled on her lower ribs and all the way up.

The lad continued nibbling on her hypersensitive ribs for good 5 more minutes before he decided to show some mercy on her. Jin pulled away from Nefeli smirking, leaving her panting and curling up in a small ball of herself, panting and leftover giggles escaping her mouth.

“Now you are tired as well” he chuckled and stuck his hand out for her to help her stand up.

“Good morning to you too um...” Nefeli dragged her sentence, trying to remember his name, with no success tho.

“Jungkook, I am the youngest out of them” the boy smiled softly.

The silence which followed was uncomfortable, with a hint of comfort. They were standing awkwardly, mug and glass on hands, but the atmosphere was merely. The silence was taking away all the ghost tickles away from Nefeli and was making Jungkook calming down.

Nefeli could still not believe what was happening. She was living with seven ghosts... Some hours ago, she wasn’t even believing in them and now she lives with 7. It was like she was in another universe, with all the paranormal things she had seen in Supernatural. The next thing she was expecting to see was Dean Winchester approaching her. But she kinda loved it. It hadn’t even been 24 hours since she had met them and she was already feeling okay with that and she was enjoying it.

“And what do you think you are doing?” a heavy voice broke the silence and her thoughts, making both their head snap towards the direction where it was coming.

The figure which was standing there sent shivers down Nefeli’s spine as these cold brown eyes were piercing her warm, chocolate ones. The polar glare was hiding an icy breeze behind it and his gaze was towering her, even tho the lad was short. Yoongi was standing there, glaring at both the poor girl and his friend, arms crossed in front of his chest.

“I didn’t see you there Yoongz,” Jungkook said casually, not meeting his gaze tho.

“I think we promised not to have any communication with her!” he growled, pointing a finger at Nefeli who was already feeling too bad. What had she done? Nothing. If she knew they were living there, she wouldn’t have come. And she never pressed or even asked them to talk with her.

“Calm down dude, I just came to drink some water” Jungkook tried to defend himself, even tho he knew Yoongi’s opinion. And he knew there was no way he would change his mind.

“And you were tickling her!” the shirt boy pointed out, his eyes burning. However, they were hiding something else behind that cold mask. There was sadness and hurt behind them. Like, he was missing something.

Nefeli didn’t dare to say anything. She was simply standing in the middle of the two lads, watching them arguing, feeling worse than ever. She could understand he didn’t want her there, and she was feeling too bad that she couldn’t do anything about it. She didn’t have the money to move again, and she definitely wasn’t wheeling to chat with Yoongi. It’s not she was afraid or something, no. It’s just that she didn’t know what to say. She would probably do something wrong and she would make him more upset. And that’s something she never wanted to.

“Jesus dude! We were just messing, chill!” Jungkook complained from behind her, making Nefeli feel even more uncomfortable.

Yoongi narrowed his eyes and then turned to the young girl’s direction, not moving from his spot. His gaze tho was enough to send new shivers down Nefeli’s spine.

“You” he pointed again at her “Are not gonna destroy everything! I was tryna hard to forget! You didn’t come here to ruin it!” he raised his voice, widening his eyes, making him look like he was ready to attack Nefeli. And with that, he vanished.

If we say Nefeli wasn’t taken aback by his tone, it would be a lie. She wasn’t expecting Yoongi to talk to her like that.

“What did he mean?” Nefeli asked curiously, unable to understand the young lad.

Jungkook sighed and set his glass on the kitchen counter, running his hand on his face. He sat on the couch, patting the space next to him for Nefeli to sit.

“Yoongi had a sister around your age,” Namjoon said, as everyone appeared behind her, except Hoseok, and Yoongi, making Nefeli flinch.

“Seriously you guys need to stop popping out of nowhere” she chuckled nervously as sat crossed legs on the couch next to Jungkook, everyone else taking a seat around them “And where is that girl now?”

The lads exchanged looks and sighed deeply, with hurt in their eyes and voice. It was sure that something was up with this girl... She probably had hurt Yoongi too much or they weren’t on good terms and they were fighting a lot. Nefeli doesn’t have any siblings but she knows how it feels to fight with your siblings. All her cousins have siblings and they are always fighting.

“Yoongi and Haeun were really close. She was a really shy girl and really ticklish as well. Yoongi loved to play fight and tickle with her. When he was with Haeun, he was a completely different person. Yoongi was tickling her to tears almost every day. It was their thing. He was so protective and caring for her. We weren’t close with her, because Yoongi was afraid that any of us would fall in love with” Namjoon chuckled at the memory, whispered loud enough for us to hear. His voice was cracking and a soft smile was playing on his face.

“However, one day everything changed,” Jimin said, taking a serious look “One day their house caught fire. Everyone managed to get out, except her. Yoongi tried to get in to save her but failed. They found her inside the house charred after a few days. From that day on, Yoongi could do nothing but cry. She cried for years, blaming herself for not being able to save her. And that’s why he got mad at Jin tickling you. He remembered Haeun”

“Hey! It wasn’t me!” the oldest one complained and all the heads snapped towards him “It was Kook!” he pointed at Jungkook who just rolled his eyes and ignored him “Whatever”

“Remember the hysterical laughter you friend was talking about?” Taehyung asked, ignoring as well his older friend, and Nefeli with confused and still wide eyes nodded “It was hers”

Nefeli felt her heart breaking into tiny pieces. It was so sad that a young person had suffered so much in his life. And even sadder that an even younger person lost her life in such a torturous way. Yoongi wasn’t the kindest boy she had ever met since yesterday, but she of course never wanted him to be hurt at all.

“One day though, we had decided to go on a trip to Berlin to help Yoongi snap out of it a little” Jin looked at her ready to burst into tears “The plane crashed. We all died. Since then, we promised ourselves that we would make people happy and smiling. Like Yoongi would want Haeun to be” he let some crystal tears roil down his cheeks but whipped them fastly with the back of his wrist, sniffling a little. “This house you are living right now is his old home, where she died and their parents rebuild them someday after that. The owners you met are their parents”

“We chose to live here with them because of Yoongi” he explained, looking at Nefeli dead in the eyes.

Nefeli’s eyes widened in shock and felt something inside her falling. This was the most sorrowing thing she had ever heard, but at the same time, she was feeling like she was living in a house which somewhen was filled with love. Yoongi’s love.

“And what happened to the girl? I mean you are all ghosts, they must have been reunited!” she exclaimed, bouncing a little on the couch, ready to cry as well.

“Nefeli it’s not that simple” Namjoon place a hand on her shoulder and sat down next to her “When you become a ghost you live inside someone’s love. But when the person who loves you the most dies you are vanishing forever. So when Yoongi died... We tried hard to bring her back. We really did. But we didn’t manage anything. He lost her forever, and we couldn’t do anything about that”

Nefeli couldn’t help but let the salty tears roll down her now rosy cheeks. She was feeling really bad. Like she had stolen and burn those memories from Yoongi. How could she be so mean? Of course, it wasn’t her fault, she didn’t know that, but she was feeling like it. Like she was so cruel...

“So that’s why he acted like that...” she whispered in realization and everyone nodded “I-I am so sorry, I didn’t know that. It’s all my fault, I think I need to move with my friend until I find a new house,” she said playing with her fingers. Of course, she didn’t want to live in this place, but she couldn’t stand the idea of making Yoongi feel really bad and sorrowful.

“Nononononononoo, it’s not your fault, please don’t think like that!” Taehyung sat in front of her, taking her hands in his own “Nothing is your fault, you couldn’t know about us. And you don’t have to move with your friend. We all know you like living away from town. Please don’t blame yourself about anything!” he smiled sweetly at her, trying to convince her with his eyes to stay

Jin smiled softly and pulled her in for a hug, her back on his chest “Don’t worry, there’s nothing you can do. We will try to convince him to at least be a little nicer to you. And you are not going anywhere!” he said as Nefeli snuggled onto him, making her giggle.

She felt really good in his embrace. Like everything was better. The boys were looking at her in awe and she couldn’t help but blush but she was feeling good. The boys really wanted her to stay with them. They didn’t have someone to talk with. Someone to play with and have some fun. When they were going out of town, everyone would recognize them, so they had to steal whatever they wanted from Yoongi’s parents or from stores.

But now Nefeli wasn’t seeing them as ghosts, but as normal boys. Her friends. And she wasn’t afraid of them anymore. She was feeling nice like she could trust them.

They stayed like that for almost two minutes, in comfortable silence, before Nefeli decided to speak again “Well... I guess we can spend some time together every day if you want as well” she said shyly and blushed a little as everyone’s face lit up and they rushed on them hugging her tightly in a group hug.

At least Yoongi wasn’t there to see them... He would feel really bad and even worse, get mad. And that was something Nef didn’t want at all...

 A few days after:

Nefeli and the boys had created a nice bind. They would eat all together and have movie nights almost every night. The boys were making Nef laugh really much and they would usually tickle her, only when Yoongi wasn’t near tho. They knew it would upset him.

However, Yoongi never appeared. And that was making Nefeli really sad. How she wishes she could talk to him. Learn more things about him and have fun with him as well. But he didn’t want the same things as her. He was always cold towards her.

However, today was a different day. Today all the boys had gone out God knows where and she was alone. Nef wasn’t feeling good tho. She was feeling really down. She wanted to cry but she didn’t know why. It was one of those days where she wanted cuddles and some cheering up but nothing had happened.

She was currently sitting on her bed, crystal tears rolling out of her eyes and down her puffy, now rosy cheeks as some Three Days Grace music was playing in the background. She was curled up in a small ball of herself, burying her face in the pillow.

Suddenly she felt a hand rubbing her back affectionately, making her breathing relax.

“Tae please, leave me alone” she sobbed and snuggled more into her pillow.

However, the voice which rang in her ears wasn’t Tae’s. It was a voice she would never expect to hear again. It was the same voice she heard that night when something was tickling her knees and then whispered goodnight at her. It was the same heavy but sweet voice.

“Why are you crying?” that voice tho was familiar to her from somewhere else. And she couldn’t make the connection then, but now she could. And she was beyond shocked.

She turned around and with her watered, red eyes she saw Yoongi sitting there, trying to calm her down, the same serious expression on his face, and completely taking Nefeli by surprise. You cannot blame her for not expecting Yoongi to be there.

“Wha- Why are you here?” she sniffled, rubbing her eyes and sitting crossed legs in front of him, clutching on her pillow tighter.

“I asked something, why you are crying?” he asked, scooping closer to her. And she didn’t move...

She sighed and looked down on her lap, playing with her fingers “I-I don’t know, I felt like crying, I am sorry, I didn’t want to upset you”

Yoongi sighed as well, taking her hand in his larger one, shocking Nefeli once again. He was showing her his soft side for the first time in so many days he was being rude and arrogant towards her.

“The boys told me that you know,” he said, making her raise her vision, looking at him with her big, doe eyes. “You remind me so much of her, the same hair, the same eyes, the same height... the same spots, you are almost exactly like my Haeun” his voice broke when he mentioned his sister, making Nefeli wonder whether he could help him or not. Whether her presence there was helping him or upsetting him more. “They also told me how you are feeling. And I am so sorry about it. But it was really hard for me to control it. When I saw my parents moving away I felt like a part of me was being uprooted from within me. Then I saw you. You look so like my sister that I felt like you were replacing her here. And I got really mad. I thought that if I were discourteous with you, I would think less about her. But I was wrong. The more I was being rude to you, the more I was feeling bad. And when Namjoon and Jin told me how you felt guilty and you wanted to move again, I- Nefeli I am so sorry. Please don’t leave!” Yoongi’s tears rolled down his cheeks, as he pulled Nef in for a tight hug, rubbing the back of her head and her back soothingly.

“Yoongi please don’t cry, everything is alright, I won’t leave!” she was really taken aback by his sudden action of affection and softness. He never expected him to apologize to her like that. And in such a short time. It had passed only some days since she moved in and it was the first time Yoongi was sweet and kind towards her.

Yoongi felt like he had gone so harsh on his own sister. Looking straight into Nefeli’s chocolate brown eyes, he could see Haeun looking back at him. And he understood that the young journalist wasn’t responsible for anything. He couldn’t stop anyone from having fun and messing with each other, tickling each other and laugh together. He was just missing those moments and he was jealous he couldn’t have them anymore with his sister.

Nefeli and Yoongi stayed cuddled, him in her embrace as Yoongi was mentally accusing himself for Nefeli’s wanting to move away again cause of him.

Suddenly Yoongi felt tears in his soft hair, watering his head. He raised his head and saw Nefeli crying tiny, bitter tears, trying not to make any sound so as she wouldn’t catch Yoongi’s attention. But she failed.

“Now why are you crying?” he asked her, sitting upon his knees in front of her, piercing her with his eyes.

Nefeli sniffled and wiped her nose on her sleeve “I feel really bad. It's my fault you feel that way and I reminded you of what happened and I hurt you so much” she admitted, feeling guiltier than ever. Her mind was being tortured with that thought and her stomach was formed into the tightest knot she had ever felt.

Yoongi’s heart dropped. What had he done to her? “Don’t say that Nefeli, it’s really not your fault...” he caressed her hair soothingly, trying to convince her.

But he was doing nothing. The young girl couldn’t stop blaming herself for what was happening and what she had caused in Yoongi’s heart and the happy memories that they now were dismal she had reminded him. It was all her fault, she was sure about it.

Droplets had stopped rolling down her cheeks and her nose was now unblocked, but she couldn’t help but feel guilty “If I wasn’t there tho, nothing of that would have happened and you wouldn’t have remembered all these, I am so sorry Yoongi” she whispered, playing with her fingers out of nervousness and regret.

“No Nefeli, it’s not like that! Haeun was, is, and will ever be in my heart and I will never forget her, but that didn’t give me the right to be a jerk to you!” he frowned his eyebrows together, his eyes pleading for her to believe him, and his hands gripping hers as he was trying to persuade her it was not her fault.

They stayed like that for a while. No one was talking and no one was doing anything at all. Yoongi was staring at Nefeli and Nefeli was staring at Yoongi.

Until them both burst into loud giggles.

I guess no one is good at starting competitions.

It was the first time Nefeli could hear Yoongi laugh. And he has a really cute laugh. His white teeth were making his gummy smile shining more as his shoulders were bouncing a little from the giggles. His eyes had formed into thin lines and his nose had scrunched up.

They continued giggling like maniacs and as the seconds were passing by, they would die down, but the smiles on their faces would remain still. Yoongi was like a whole another person when he was laughing. ‘He should be like that more often’ she thought.

“Nefeli, I am really sorry for what was happening these days. I was really cruel towards you” Yoongi apologized once again, his smile not leaving his face.

But there was something in that smile.

Something Nefeli hadn’t seen before.

There was pureness. Softness. Happiness. Emotions like them.

“It’s alright Yoongi, really” she smiled fondly and rubbed his arm soothingly.

Nefeli had completely forgotten that Yoongi was so rude to her since the day she moved in. She could now see a sweet boy who had completely regretted what he had done and was tryna make it up for her really hard. She had completely forgotten that he was a ghost. She was seeing him like an ordinary boy who was really pissed off at her. It was really hard for her to get used to living with supernatural creatures when she never believed in them.

Yoongi, on the other hand, was feeling guiltier than ever. He had made her wanna leave the house she was tryna to buy for so many months and she made her be afraid of him. At first, that was what he wanted to do, but then, when his friends told him how Nefeli was feeling, Yoongi felt something breaking inside him. He knew he must apologize and convinced her not to leave like that.

“Please, don’t leeeeeave” he dragged his words in a way like he was begging her to stay. Which practically was exactly what he was doing.

Nefeli chuckled and rubbed his head affectionately “For the last time Yoongi, I am not gonna leave, don’t worry” she said sweetly as he placed his head on her chest, in between her legs.

The two young adults cuddled together and if anyone saw them, their jaws would drop on the ground. Yoongi had always been a cold boy towards everyone except his friends and the fact that now he was showing his well-hid affectionate face to someone except them was more surprising and unexpected.

However, there was only one thing that was now torturing her poor mind. Something she couldn’t forget. That voice that night. That night it was Yoongi who was... tickling her. The same cold boy who was against tickling, that night he was tickling her.

“Yoongi,” Nef asked and he just hummed in response, not meeting his gaze “Why were you tickling my knees that night?” she asked, feeling a blush rising on her face.

“I told you, you remind me of Haeun. I felt like I was tickling her” he said casually, playing with the hem of her hoodie.

Nefeli felt so weird at that moment. She felt flattered and loved by Yoongi and that means a lot to her, but at the same time, she felt like she was replacing her in his heart. And that was something she never wanted to do.

Yoongi continued looking down at his fingers which were still playing with her blouse, when a wide smirk appeared on his face “I know you liked it” he asked, not even looking at her face, taking Nefeli by surprise.

“H-How do y’know that?!” she exclaimed shocked and brutally stopped playing with his hair.

Yoongi just chuckled and shook his head “I can hear people's souls. When someone is happy, I can hear a sweet-sounded bell coming from them. When someone is feeling sorrow, I hear a weird noise, like it’s screaming for help. Every feeling has its different noise. And that’s only when I allow myself to hear it, it’s my own special power as a ghost” he explained like nothing was happening like it was the most normal thing in the world. Nef stayed like that, staring at him with wide eyes and gasped mouth.

“Oh” was the only thing she said, as she felt embarrassment rising inside her. She had never told anyone that she likes being tickled and even if someone had understood something, no one had ever pointed it out. And now it was like someone was exposing her to herself and she didn’t know what to do.

Suddenly the duo felt two more presence behind their backs watching them. Nefeli and Yoongi looked behind them and they both smiled brightly at Hoseok and Taehyung who appeared out of nowhere, smiling softly and sweetly from ear to ear. Taehyung was leaning on the door frame with arms crossed in front of his chest and Hoseok was resting his torso on the wall next to the door, hands in his pockets.  

“Ahh, I see you two are getting along after all” Hoseok exclaimed proudly, taking a seat next to Yoongi and Taehyung following close, and sitting near Nef’s feet.

Yoongi and Nefeli looked at each other smiling and nodded happily. Ahh, who could imagine that an iceberg could get along with a warm girl like her? No one.

“I told you that they would become close after all” Taehyung nudged Hoseok’s arm and they both laughed.

“Apparently Yoongi is a nice company” Nefeli admitted and smiled at Yoongi who was still playing with that hem.

“Don’t tell me you are gonna forget us and stick with him!” Hoseok poked her sides fastly making her fall back with giggles. Her sides have always been probably one of her worsts spots and pokes are somehow heaven/hell for her. They tickle her so much.

“Nohohahahaha I promise ahahaha!” she giggled loudly and she tried to grab his wrists just when he stopped. However, Nef didn’t really want him to stop. After all that crying and heavy aura, she wanted something to lighten up the mood.

The other two boys were smiling smugly at the scene in front of them. Amusement was formed in their eyes and they were grinning from ear to ear. It was the first time Nefeli could see amusement in Yoongi’s eyes and it was probably the best thing she had ever seen. His eyes were sparkling and his cute smile was making his nose scrunching up a little. He was adorable under his cold mask.

However, his next words sent a shiver down her spine and she felt her face heating up in embarrassment.

“She loves it, I can hear her soul giggling” Yoongi smirked and the rest of the boys copied him.

“Is that so Neffie? You wanna get tickled?” Hoseok smirked down at the girl who was now lying on her back on the bed and started poking all around her sides again “That’s great!”

Taehyung felt so happy to see his friend smiling so bright after so long time. It had been many dedicates since they died and he and never seen Yoongi being so happy. Maybe that girl was a blessing after all.

He laughed loudly as he saw Hoseok trying to battle the young girl’s hands which were desperately trying to grab his wrists and giggling like a maniac. So he did the only thing he could think of. He grabbed her flying hands and pinned them above her head and sat on them, making everything 10 times worse for her.

“Nahahahaha lehehemme gohohoho!” she giggled loudly, shaking her head left and right from the ticklish sensations.

Tae wiggled fingers in front of her face bringing to the surface louder giggles. That was the most torturous thing someone could ever do. It tickles her without even touching her “But I thought you liked it” he teased from above her as put his wiggling fingers on her bare armpits, running them up and down softly like a feather.

“Come on Yoongz, join the fun” Hoseok called Yoongi by his nickname to give him more motivation. Everyone knew how much it means to him and they wanted to make him snap out of his thoughts for some minutes.

“Sure” Yoongi smirked and sat on her shins, clawing behind her knees the same way he was clawing that night, getting the same giggles he got then.

Nefeli was giggling like a maniac, not knowing what to try and stop first. It was like tiny bugs were running up and down her skin. Loud giggles were echoing the whole house as she was shaking her head left and right while the boys were only smirking widely down at her.

“Nahahahaha!” she giggled ringingly as the pokes on her sides, the circles on her armpits, and the clawing on her knees became faster. She kicked her knees up and down, trying to stop the feeling but nothing seem to work.

“Aww look how much you are giggling! You must really like this, right Yoongi? What do you hear?” Hoseok teased, poking her ribs fastly.

“Ah I cannot concentrate on her inside noises Hobi, her giggles are too loud” Yoongi replied mischievously as he dug fastly behind her knee, sending her into louder fits of giggles, almost hysterical “See what I mean?”

“She is so ticklish, it’s adorable!” a cute voice sounded from behind them and they both snapped their heads towards it.

Jungkook stood there smiling softly his famous bunny grin Jimin, Namjoon, and Jin who were copying his smile. They had heard all the laughter and they had come there to check what was happening. And to say they were surprised to see Yoongi in that position was an understatement. It was like a weight left over their shoulders.

“Ahh, I still remember her first day here when I poked her sides, how much she was giggling with a simple touch” the bunny-toothed guy continued as he folded his arms and leaned back on the wall, watching Nef squirming under their devilish fingers.

“WHAT?!” she cried but fell back again to hysterical giggles as Hoseok moved his hands to her ribs “It was youhouhouhou?!” she kicked her feet and legs more as her soft skin was being tortured.

“Ah yeah, I saw it too, she is just so sensitive! I bet a single feather could tickle her!” Jin exclaimed and giggled as he heard her giggles becoming loud laughter when Hoseok shook his fingertips on the middle of her tummy.

Namjoon shook his head at her ticklishness “Let’s test it then” he said and did something Nefeli could have never imagined; he moved his hand in a circled motion and a soft, white, long feather appeared.

Nefeli’s eyes widened for a second as she saw him approaching her with the feather in his hand but Taehyung who was now digging into her armpits didn’t let her. The sudden feeling sent her in new fits of pure laughter and a nice shiver down her spine.

“Nanananahahahaha!” she cried and shook her head, thrashing around as Namjoon raised her blouse more and the fresh air hit her warm skin.

“Already giggling girl? I didn’t even touch you yet” the young lad chuckled at her panicked expression and twirled the soft item in between his fingers “Ohokay okay, stop for a sec” he ordered the three boys and they immediately stopped, letting her breathe for a brief second.

Key phrase; a brief second.

Taehyung, Hoseok, and Yoongi had her still pinned down and the other three boys circled them to see what was gonna happen “Watch this” Namjoon smirked widely and kneeled next to her side, lowering his hand towards her tummy.

“Nonononono Namjoon please nonononahahahahaha Namjoohoon nahahahahahaha!” her giggles came out screamingly and she tried desperately to shot her arms down as she shot her arms down but she couldn’t. Those giants were keeping her pinned down for good. Namjoon dipped the feather in her bellybutton and twirled it around, destroying every nerve she had in her body from how much it tickled.

It was really surprising because she knew her bellybutton was not even ticklish when someone tickles her in there with their finger. But the feather... Oh gosh, it makes her feel so sensitive and melts her like ice under the warm sun. The giggles were running out of her mouth like a waterfall and her head was shaking from side to side fastly.

“Wow, even a simple feather tickles you? You are so ticklish Neffie!” Jin giggled along with her and squeezed her side twice, earning a giggly scream from Nefeli “Oh, too ticklish sides? This will come in handy” he pointed out smirking and everyone laughed, agreeing with the oldest.

“Agh plehehehase nahahahahahaha!” she thrashed around and tried to escape the tickles but nothing could stop them from attacking her mercilessly.

All of sudden, she felt Hoseok getting up and Yoongi taking his place before she could even react. Yoongi traced softly his index nail from her elbow down to her hipbone and up to her elbow again and again and again repeatedly while the feather was still twirling around her bellybutton. Never slower, never faster. Up and down. Again and again. It was driving her crazy!

“Mm I think her feet need a massage, don’t you think Kook?” Taehyung grinned widely at the youngest one, who simply smirked and rushed to get one of her tiny feet.

“I’ll get the other one!” Jimin jumped on his feet happily and grabbed gently her other ankle, sitting it on his lap and Jungkook did that same.

“NO! Dahahahan’t you dahahahare!” she cried before they even start, knowing from experience that her feet are one of her worst spots along with her sides and her ribs.

“We haven’t even touched you yet, chill Nef!” Jimin laughed and wiggled his fingers just above her sole to tease her even more.

“NO!” she yelled in between her giggles, causing every boy to stop and look at her with wide eyes.

The ponytail she had was now half-destroyed and pieces of hair were all over her grinning face. However, a small pout appeared on her face, replacing the happing face she had some seconds ago.

Namjoon clicked his fingers and the feather disappeared, Taehyung let her arms go and Hoseok stopped smiling. Instead, a pout formed on his lips, increasing how cute he already looked but at the same time, a hint of worry could be found in his eyes.

“B-But you like it...” Yoongi mumbled under his breath and looked around his friends to understand what was happening but no one was moving. They were all waiting for Nefeli’s reaction.

‘Oh no... I didn’t mean it! What can I do now? I cannot ask them to start again! Poor Yoongi, he looks hurt, I didn’t wanna hurt him! Look at him...’ Nefeli thought to herself, the pout she had on her lips growing bigger, still laying down and arms collapsed on her torso.

However, she felt a weird tingling before a chuckle of amusement came from above her tho and everyone’s heads snapped towards Taehyung “She didn’t want us to stop, it was only a reflex, she just said it” he chuckled again, this time everyone else doing the same.

Realization hit her when she understood what Yoongi said about powers. Apparently, he wasn’t the only one who had powers. Everyone had!

“Is that true Nef?” Jungkook asked, a hint of amusement playing in his as he held her ankle higher and tighter, careful not to hurt her.

“Wha- How do you know that?!” she exclaimed with wide eyes and everyone else laughed at her.

“I can read minds, little one, this is my special power” he smirked as he saw her eyes growing even bigger. That was the tingling she felt.

“I can move things with my mind” Namjoon explained “Hoseok moves faster than light, Jin heals wounds, Jungkook transforms into various creatures and Jimin cheers people up without them knowing” her jaw dropped to the ground as soon as she heard their powers. They were all so different but at the same time so unique and amazing!

However, Nefeli was concentrated on something else. She wanted tickles. And she wanted Yoongi to be happy. She was feeling like she had hurt him. She just learned how much it means to him but yet he stopped them brutally because of a stupid fear. She had never been tickled on her feet before, but she knows this is one of her most ticklish spots. Even the thought tickles her.

Yoongi and Taehyung shared a knowing look and grinned widely, signaling at Jungkook and Jimin to get her feet while she was still didn’t expect them to move.

Electric shots hit her body as she felt five fingers with sharp blunt nails scribbling all over each one of her hypersensitive feet. Nefeli screamed loudly and fell into hysterical laughter, thrashing around and punching whichever angle on the bed she could so as to stop the torturous sensations.

“AGH NAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!” she screamed loudly and everyone tried to cover their ears because of how loud it was, chuckling at her.

Jimin and Jungkook looked at each other, understanding that she was too sensitive there and they had gone too much since the beginning so they slowed down, enough for her to fell into hysterical giggles once again.

She could have never imagined her feet would be THAT ticklish and a simple finger could make her scream so loud.

However, to say she wasn’t enjoying that, would be a lie. She loves playfulness and she enjoys being tickled even tho she doesn’t really know why. She could feel butterflies in her stomach even tho she wasn’t in love with anyone and she could feel that she wanted more.

Yoongi tho sensed that and gave a nod to Taehyung to pin her arms again, sitting on them and everyone else positioned themselves around the squirming girl.

Jin sat next to her side while Namjoon clicked his fingers and appeared the feather again, taking a seat on her other side. Hoseok sat again on her shins and Yoongi on her hips while Jungkook and Jimin remained in their places.

The eldest one poked once her side softly, earning a mini scream in between her giggles which made everyone smile at her.

Hoseok tho didn’t start easy on her. He dug fastly his fingers behind her knees as she squealed and bucked her hip in the air, making Yoongi look like he was riding a wild horse.

Taehyung did the same to her armpits while her feet were being scribbled softly and her side was being kneaded by Jin.

Namjoon had dipped again the feather in her bellybutton and was drawing circles in it fastly, not missing to draw some around it before while with his other hand, he was squeezing her other side.

Yoongi on the other hand was doing everything he could to make her laugh as much as she can. With one hand he was drawing fast circles on her hipbone and was squeezing under her bellybutton, her lower tummy.

Nefeli was sent in the loudest laughter she had ever experienced. She was feeling like electricity was hitting her body. But it wasn’t simple electricity. It was an extremely ticklish one!

Everything seemed to be bearable till that moment. Till that torturous moment when all the teasing started.

“Aww look at you! You are so cute!” Namjoon teased, dipping further the feather in her bellybutton. She blushed really hard, harder than she expected.

Nefeli shook her head from side to side and laughed loudly, knowing that this wouldn’t stop the feeling. At least she tried to. She had never experienced any tool and now that a feather was tickling her, she could say that it was feeling like Heaven and Hell at the same time. Too soft yet too ticklish.

“NAHAHAHA AHAHAHAM NAHAHAHAT!” she laughed loudly, unable to open her eyes to look at any of them.

“Then why do you look like it?” Jimin teased from down there on her foot, pinching and wiggling each and every one of her toes.

Jungkook on the other hand had softly pulled back the ones on her other foot and he was scribbling fastly on her poor sole, setting on fire Nefeli’s nerves. Her feet are probably the most ticklish ones someone can meet. Even a soft massage can get her for good.

Suddenly she felt jabs and light squeezes on her other side. Nefeli would have fell off of the couch if the boys weren’t blocking her from how much it caught her off guard.

Namjoon. That evil ghost had used his powers and was moving the feather with his mind while he was squeezing with both hands her side.

“GAH NAMJAHAHAHAN NAHAHAHA!” she arched her back. Jinn saw it as an opportunity to trace her spine up and down, making her arch her back even more.

“There too? You are so sensitive Neffie!” Yoongi teased, squeezing fastly her hips. Yoongi had the widest smile the boys had ever seen. No one in all those years had made him smile so much. If his parents could see him, they would be truly proud and happy.

And this was the moment Nef got to experience Hoseok’s powers for the first time. What I mean by that? Lemme explain it then. Hoseok used his super-speed to scribble fastly her inner thighs, sending her into fits of really loud laughter.

“HOSEAHAHAHAHAHAK!” she tried to shut her thighs together so she would stop him, but she did nothing at all. She was only torturing herself even more.

“Yes baby girl?” the young girl blushed at the new nickname but she couldn’t help her body thrashing around from the new feeling.

“DAHAHAHAHAN’T TEAHAHAHAHAHASE MEAHAHAHA!” of course she didn’t mean it. Nefeli loves being teased and even tease people.

Her mouth had started aching already from how much she was laughing but she was enjoying as much as the boys.

“But whyyyy? You love it!” Jin teased, giving multiple kisses on her bare side. If Nefeli couldn’t stand at all was kisses. Even kisses on her face and cheeks tickle her.

“NAHAHAHAHA NAHAHAHAT KISSES AHAHAHAHAHA!” she wiggled like a worm, tryna escape the tiny kisses which felt like bugs were running up and down her warm skin.

“Aww someone is sensitive to kisses huh? How interesting” Yoongi smirked and bet down, kissing all over her belly as Jin kept going kissing her side.

A wave of electricity hit all over her body from her neck down to her feet and she let out a scream and started thrashing around, begging for some mercy.

“AGH PLEAHAHAHAHAHASE!” Nefeli hid her head in her shoulder as everyone cooed down at her.

“Please what? Please more? Well... We are not planning on stopping anytime soon, don’t worry” Jimin wiggled his eyebrows as he scratched the base of her toes.

Bad move.

Nefeli kicked out, almost hitting him somewhere she wasn’t supposed to, earning a squeak from Jimin. “Now who told you that you can kick me? You are in for it now!” he sat on her ankle and clicked his fingers, appearing a long, blue paintbrush.

He brushed softly yet fastly all over her hypersensitive foot. Everyone smirked widely as they heard her laughter going almost hysterical.

The six boys shared a look of happiness as they saw Yoongi trying to ride excitedly the roaring girl and he was still kissing airy her belly.

“Aw look at you! A little worm!” Taehyung whispered in her neck as he had bent down before he blew a short raspberry.

“TAEAHAHAHA!” she shrieked and bucked once again her hips in the air.

“Neffie!” he mocked her while her clawed on her hollows with his fingers.

The feather in her bellybutton was still twirling and Namjoon was still squeezing her side faster and faster as the moments were passing by. Lemme tell you that every hair on her body was straight now.

“You have such a soft skin little one,” he said as he poked her sides faster than the speed of light. He was really careful so it wouldn’t hurt her but only tickle her while Jimin moved the brush on her toes.

“AHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!” her laughter at this point was able to break a glass.

“Yaaaaa don’t scream so much Nefeli! We are not killing you!” Jungkook teased while he was tracings multiple patterns on her sol non-stop.

The young girl couldn’t stop smiling and laughing her heart out. If she was ticklish before, now she was feeling way more sensitive that day. Not because she was being tickled by ghosts but because for some reason their fingers were touching some of her most sensitive nerves on her already too ticklish body.

“Look at this happy, gummy smile!” Yoongi teased and brought his fingers higher, reaching her ribs.

Nefeli let out an inhuman scream and fell into louder laughter as his fingers touched the skin of her hypersensitive ribs, pinching and massaging them. She didn’t know she had THAT ticklish ribs, and it tickled her way more than she could ever expect.

“Whoa, I think you hit the jackpot dude” Jin teased, digging deeper in her side, sending her in a new round of ear-piercing loud laughter.

“NAHAHAHAHA NAHAHAT THEAHAHAHARE!” she roared, not really knowing who she was talking to. Jin on her side? Yoongi on her ribs? Taehyung on the hollows of her armpits? Jungkook and Jimin in her feet? Hoseok behind her knees? The paintbrush on her poor toes? Or the feather in her bellybutton?

Nefeli heard fingers clicking from above her, but she chose to ignore it. However, a buzzing sound made her realize what it was. A toothbrush.

“GAH TAHAHAHAHAHAE NAHAHAHAHA!” she cried laughingly when the tiny toothbrush touched the soft skin of her armpits, sending her in fits of hysterics.

The toothbrush traveled from the flesh skin of her forearm to the sensitive place of her hollows in circle moves, setting on fire her nerves and bringing to the surface mostly screams.

“Agh, my ear!” Jimin complained playfully, playing with her tiny toes like they were piano.

“Okay, let’s count your ribs, I think you miss some” Yoongi smirked widely and before Nefeli could say anything else, the boy had already started massaging her lowest ribs “Oneeeee”

The young girl threw her head back in laughter, unable to even move. The rest of the boys had slowed down a little to the point they were only teasing her body with soft tickles so they could enjoy the scene in front of them.

“Twooooo” he moved to her second-lowest ribs as her laughter turned hiccup.

“Threeeee”

“PLEAHAHAHAHAHAHASE!” she shrieked and arched her back again, shutting her eyes tightly.

“Fouuuur”

“COUNT FASTER AHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!” she begged as her tired body collapsed on the mattress again.

“Oh you want me to count faster?” his evil grin grew bigger and brought his fingers on her lowest one again. Then he did something truly unexpected “Onetwothreefourfivesixseveneight” he poked all over her ribs, without a specific order.

She had seen before on Tumblr people counting other’s ribs while they were tickling them, but she had never seen that anywhere before, and of course she had never experienced it.

After that tho, as soon as he finished, he bent down and nibbled on them. That was the worst thing someone could do to her. Nibbles. They were driving her crazy, out of her mind!

Jin, Taehyung, and Namjoon looked at each other and they gave a signal to each other. However, they didn’t do anything... They simply vanished... She was still unable to shot her arms down tho... Nefeli got confused but she couldn’t express it. She couldn’t even say a word, only shriek, and laugh.

However, she soon felt fast nibbles on her sides and neck. Yoongi and Hoseok almost fell off of her from how much she exploded and thrashed around. She literally shrieked louder than she ever had before and erupted into hysterical laughter.

The nibbles were mixed with raspberries and giggles from the boys could be heard as a background. Their breaths were tickling her as well and were sending shivers down her spine.

“PLEAHAHAHAHA NAHAHAHAHA MERCAHAHAHAHA!” she begged, unable to form a whole sentence.

However, she knew that she couldn’t take any longer. She desperately needed a break. She wanted to experience more, but if she didn’t take a break soon, she would fade away.

“BREAK! BREAHAHAHAHAKE!” she cried and fell into silent laughter, shaking her head from side to side.

Taehyung, who read her thoughts, gave a signal to everyone else and everyone stopped immediately, pulling away from her.

Yoongi’s eyes widened and he felt anxiety rising inside him. Had he hurt her? Had we gone too far? Had he made her feel uncomfortable?

However, as soon as he heard her giggly soul, relief filled him.

Nefeli curled up in a small ball as soon as everyone gets off of her and the items vanished. Yoongi pulled her onto his lap and rubbed her back soothingly as she rested her head onto his chest, still giggling airily.

Jungkook clicked his finger and a glass of water appeared. He pushed the flying glass towards her lightly and that stopped in front of her. She chuckled lightly, still not believing that this was actually happening, and took it gladly, drinking it all.

“Are you alright? Did we go too harsh?” Namjoon asked with concern.

“No, don’t worry, I am completely fine” she gave them a big smile and snuggled more onto Yoongi.

Yoongi on the other hand could feel happiness rushing in him and a wide smile appeared on his face. He remembered how he used to cuddle with Haeun after tickles and she used to snuggle into him like Nefeli was right now. ‘Ah, Haeunnie... I miss you so much, sissy’

Yoongi felt a tingling and immediately understood what had happened. He raised his vision and he saw Taehyung looking at him with a sympathetic smile. Yoongi nodded at him and they both sighed deeply.

“You have to admit that you loved it tho” Jimin winked at Nef. She blushed deeply and hid her face in Yoongi’s chest.

“No, I cannot deny it” she mumbled and everyone’s face lit up.

“And Yoongi seemed to enjoy it too, right?” Jin pointed out.

All the eyes snapped towards him and he looked down shyly, nodding. To be honest, he loved it. And he loved even more that he made Nefeli happy.

‘Should I ask for more? Not too intensive ones t-tickles... Wow why is it really hard to pronounce th-’ she stopped her thoughts when she felt that tingle again. Taehyung.

She looked at him and she saw a smirk formed on his face as he leaned closer to Jungkook and Jimin, whispering something.

She gulped when smirks formed on the two as well and they turned their heads towards her. Did he tell them that I want more? They were up to something.

Before they could do anything, she was snatched from Yoongi’s lap and was placed in between Jin and Yoongi who held each one of her arms collapsed on her torso.

Jungkook then sent her a flying kiss and in a flash of light, he had vanished.

Nef’s widened as she looked at the boys with question “W-Where did he go?” she asked. However, she didn’t have enough time to react when Jimin sat on her ankles, pulling back her toes, fully exposing her poor, bare soles.

“What are you dohohoing?” she giggled loudly, sensing that something was up and that something was gonna happen to her feet, but she couldn’t understand what.

Surprisingly, she heard high-pitched giggles coming from down her feet and she felt something running up and down her poor soles and toes, and in between them. Something like a... Bug.

“Ahahahahaha whahahat ihihihihis thahahahat?!” she giggled loudly and kicked her knees up and down as she was desperately trying to set herself free.

“Be careful! It’s Jungkook!” Namjoon warned as he saw her tryna clap her feet together.

“WHAT?!” she exclaimed in between her giggles.

“He transformed into a ladybug!” they all explained at her, wide smirks on their faces. And as if it wasn’t already too much, Yoongi, Hoseok, and Namjoon started poking all over her sides and belly while Jin and Taehyung were tryna keep her arms down on her torso.

“NAHAHAHA PLEAHAHAHASE NAHAHAHAOOOO!” she yelled in between her laughter and tried to squirm away, but at the same time not to move her legs and feet, afraid that she would hurt Jungkook.

Jimin on the other hand was helping Jungkook by scribbling all over her soles as the youngest member was running between, on, and under her toes, sending her into fits of hysterics.

As her most sensitive spots were being attacked, she couldn’t help but scream when Jin dug in her ribs from behind her, falling onto him.

“Coochie coochie coo Nef!” Hoseok whispered in her ear, sending shivers down her spine while Taehyung was tracing his finger on it up and down, now and then scribbling her lower back as well, and making Nefeli arch it.

“NAHAHAHAHAHA NAHAHAHAT THE WAHAHAHAHARDS!” ugh those three words are literally the worst tease she can ever receive. It drives her crazy and makes her shy at the same time!

“No? Seriously you cannot take it? Ah, I will keep that in mind” Yoongi teased while kneading fastly her side. Electric shots hit her body once again as she shook her head frantically from side to side, and trying with all her might not to move her legs.

“PLEAHAHAHAHAHASE NAHAHAHAHAHA!” she laughed loudly, dipping her nails and fingers in the soft mattress.

Jungkook had focused in between her toes, which were pulled back by Jimin with one hand, while his other hand was scribbling her feet. Jungkook’s soft giggles could be heard as a background along with the rest of the boys’ louder ones.

Yoongi and Namjoon continued kneading fastly her sides as Jin was digging in her ribs while everyone was cooing at her for how cute she was.

“Ah I think you absolutely love it, you are not even telling us to stop” Hoseok whispered once again in her ear before blowing a huge raspberry on her neck.

“NAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!” Nefeli shrieked and threw her head back in laughter, as she fell onto Jin, completely exhausted as her laughter turned silent.

However, Hoseok was wrong.

Sweat was sliding down her face and tears had started rolling down her cheeks. Her hair was messy and her breath was stolen away. Her laughter had turned hoarse and her tummy and throat were burning.

‘N-no more...’ she thought, more like begging them to stop, in hope Taehyung would hear her thoughts.

And he did.

She felt the tingling and then Taehyung’s fingers stopping.

“Okay I think that was enough let her breath,” he told the others as they all stopped. They all do as Taehyung says since he can read minds.

Everyone let her go once again and Jungkook returned to his official look as a person. She curled up in a small ball as Namjoon was rubbing her back soothingly and Yoongi was putting pieces of hair behind her ears and massaging her head.

“Are you alright?” they asked her for the second time today and she nodded straight away as Jungkook gave her some water again.

“Ihihihi- I guess I reached my limits” she explained and sat up again, drinking the water. All the eyes were on her, making her shy.

She felt butterflies in her stomach as she thought of what just happened and she realized she had just been tickled by... ghosts. But she didn’t really care. She had fun. And she had made new friends.

“Yoongi, are you okay?” she asked Yoongi, catching him by surprise. How could a girl he had met some days before be so sweet and affectionate towards him when he had been an asshole to her?

He felt a smile appearing on his face as he nodded and kissed her forehead. He hadn’t done that since... Haeun’s death “Thanks for that,” he said and Nefeli copied his warm smile.

Yes, he was thankful. Nefeli had helped him realize something. He had made him realize that life goes on. Even after death. That we may lose people from our lives... but new ones are coming. Our favorite ones are staying in our hearts whether they are alive or not. And if they are dead, we must not stay stuck in their memory. We must move one. We will never forget them, but it will take us nowhere if we cry and refuse to move on from a situation we cannot change at all.

“So you are not gonna leave?” Hoseok asked with pleading eyes, fear in them. None of the boys wanted Nef to leave.

The young girl chuckled softly and rolled her eyes playfully at them “Of course I am not gonna leave!”

All the boys cheered and tackled her into a group hug as huge grins of happiness were reaching everyone’s ears.

That move then was definitely the best decision she had ever taken, and she wouldn’t change it for anything in the world...

[haledamage]

Silent fury for whoever you want :3

(Jester Sending voice) GUESS WHO IT IS~

it's Nadia/Kurt again 😅 shocking, I know. I let them actively flirt this time! though they still aren't in a relationship yet...

spoilers for Kurt's 3rd companion quest and the story stuff that precedes it

---

“I’m going to get us some drinks,” Kurt announced as soon as they stepped into the Coin Tavern in San Matheus, eyeing the evening crowd suspiciously. “You think you can stay out of trouble until I get back?”

“No promises,” Nadia said with an impish grin.

He glowered at her. She winked in response.

He walked away with a shake of his head, and she found them an open table in a corner, sliding into a chair that left her back to the wall and let her see most of the room. She saved Kurt his preferred seat, the one directly in the corner that would best let him see the door.

Trouble inevitably found her only minutes later, in the form of a young Guardsman wearing the regalia of the Red Sun regiment. He saluted her nervously, looking over his shoulder at the tavern’s crowd before asking, “Are you the Legate de Sardet?”

“I am.” She gave him her most charming smile, trying not to look like the last thing she wanted right now was to work. “Do you need something?”

Without any more preamble, the soldier pulled a knife and lunged at her. She dove backwards to avoid it, knocking her chair over with a clatter. When he swung at her again, she caught his wrist, using his momentum to twist his arm behind his back and slam him face first into the table.

The knife slipped out of his numb fingers and Nadia grabbed it before it could fall, pressing it to his throat. “Is this the fabled honor of the Coin Guard?” she hissed, any hint of kindness in her voice frozen over. “Attacking an unarmed woman in a bar?”

His eyes were very green and very wide as panic and the realization that he lost started to set in. “I’m sorry! Please don’t kill me! I was only following orders.”

She inspected the boy’s face. He was quite young to be sent after someone of Nadia’s reputation; if he was over sixteen, she’d eat her hat. He was also clearly terrified, but it didn’t seem to be her he was afraid of--at least, not entirely. Though the knife she held likely made a compelling argument in her favor. “Who sent you?”

“They said that you’re responsible for the fall of the Guard,” he blurted out. “They’ve given orders to attack on sight.”

Even with her compelling argument at his throat he still wasn't telling her any names. That meant one of two things: either he didn't know their names, or he was blindly obedient to the point of suicide. A remnant of the ghost company, she’d wager; if she was wrong, she’d eat her gloves too.

She seethed in silent fury at the people responsible. The ones that had taken children like this one, like Wilhelm and Reiner and even Kurt, once upon a time, and tried to turn them into puppets and monsters.

Nadia pushed it away, swallowing it down until it wouldn’t show. He would take her reaction for pity rather than sympathy; they always did. She bottled it up so she could turn it into action later, when she finally met the infamous Major Hermann.

She let the boy go, but stood in a way that he wouldn’t be able to run without going through her. “Hmm. I did it all on my own, did I? Not much of a coup if it could be foiled by one woman acting alone. But I suppose they know better than to send you directly after Kurt, or Sieglinde, or Manfred, or any of the other honorable members of the Guard, and so they sent you to me.” She felt a presence at her back, solid and warm and familiar enough that she knew who it was without looking. “Hello, Kurt.”

Somehow, the boy’s eyes got wider. “Captain!” He fumbled an attempted salute.

“At ease, cadet.” Kurt almost sounded casual enough to hide his anger. “What’s this?”

“You know me,” Nadia said, false cheer taking the edge off the lingering chill in her voice. “Making new friends wherever I go.”

“He tried to kill you, didn’t he?” She couldn’t see his face, but whatever was there was frightening enough that the cadet tried to step back, practically climbing onto the table in his haste to escape.

She hummed in affirmation, presenting him the knife. He took from her and inspected it wordlessly. “Likely on Hermann’s command. Or his lackeys. Lad doesn’t know any better. Just following orders.” She was starting to hate those three words. The things men would try to justify under the guise of ‘following orders’ enraged her.

“You’re damn lucky she was alone when you staged your little attempt. Her Excellency is much more polite than I.” Kurt grabbed the young soldier by the front of his doublet and dragged him close, voice dropping into a growl, low and dangerous. “You ever try to touch her again and you had better start swimming, because there’s nowhere on this island you can hide from me.” He released the boy abruptly enough that he stumbled. “Go.”

He didn’t need to be told twice. He ran out of the tavern without looking back.

Kurt immediately turned to Nadia, all his anger forgotten and replaced by a concerned frown. “Are you hurt?”

She tried not to appear too flustered, but her heart always skipped a beat when he got all growly and protective like that. There was something very attractive about watching him lose his cool on her behalf. His sudden proximity wasn’t helping matters, his hands gently skimming her sides, her stomach, down her arms, touching her face, searching for any sign of injury or distress.

She caught them and forced them still. They came to rest on her waist, and he finally looked up at her again. “I’m fine, Kurt. He didn’t even get close. You taught me better than that.”

His shoulders dropped with relief. “I should’ve known better than to leave you alone.”

“At least we know we’re in the right place.” She rested her hands on his arms, just above the elbow, in an attempt to offer comfort. She could only imagine how hard all of this was for him, especially on top of… well, everything else. It had been a rough week for them both. “If Hermann is sending terrified child assassins after me this quickly, he must be somewhere in the city.”

“I think you’re right.” His expression went distant, calculating, already planning two steps ahead. Then he shook it off, and his attention returned to her once more. “Be that as it may, Green Blood, I’m not leaving your side until he’s dealt with. Not for anything.”

Her eyebrows shot up, nearly disappearing under the brim of her hat. “Then I guess it's a good thing my bed’s big enough for two.”

Kurt’s ears and the back of his neck flushed red at the obvious suggestion in her words, but at the same time his gray eyes went storm dark, dangerous in a new and exciting way. His hands clenched on her waist, drawing her just the slightest bit closer. "Yes, well..." he cleared his throat, but his voice still came out a touch raspier than normal, “we should… concentrate on the job at hand. For now.”

Despite his words, however, he made no move to release her, or even to put any distance between them.

It was tempting to see what happened if she pushed the subject, but Nadia decided against it. He was right. This was important, and it needed to be done before someone got hurt. For now would have to keep her warm until then.

Reluctantly, she stepped back, putting a little space between them, her hands slowly sliding down his arms until they fell away. She set aside the spark that had been kindling there in the same place she put her anger - not extinguished, just banked, and waiting for a chance to reignite.

With one last deep, fortifying breath, she turned her back on Kurt and picked up her fallen chair, dropping into it and sliding one of the mugs on the table closer. She hadn’t even noticed him setting them down, wasn’t entirely sure when he’d found time between threatening her would-be assassin and fretting over her well-being, but she let it go.

After a few seconds, he sat down next to her. His arm draped over the back of her chair in a motion that probably looked relaxed to anyone who wasn’t close enough to feel the tension rolling off of him. She leaned into it anyway, letting him pretend it was an affectionate gesture instead of a protective one, that he wasn’t scanning the room like everyone else had also been sent to assassinate her.

“So why are we here?” she attempted to clear the strained atmosphere. “Waiting for someone?”

“Letting ourselves be seen.” Kurt took a long drink from his ale. “I want him to know we’re here. Men like Hermann get stupid when they get scared.”

She was starting to catch up with his thinking. This tavern was owned by the Coin Guard. A once-respected and decorated Major like their quarry would still bend a few sympathetic ears in a place like this. Their presence here was an open taunt. "And do things like send children to kill diplomats in a bar full of witnesses? Especially a diplomat known to travel with a Captain of the Guard as her personal bodyguard?"

He grunted in agreement. “Exactly. He sent that poor boy here to be killed. To make us draw first blood. Now he’ll run straight back to his masters and tell them what happened.” His voice was as dark and bitter as smoke, but when he turned to face Nadia, he wore a soft, if small, smile. He lifted his mug as if in a toast. “So tonight, I get to have a few drinks in a decent tavern with a beautiful woman. And tomorrow, the work begins.”

She tapped her cup against his. “You’re enjoying this. Scaring the ghosts.”

“So are you.”

“I did learn from the best.” She meant it. Nadia would have been a very different person without him in her life all these years; she liked to think he felt the same way.

But whether he did or not, he clearly still didn’t know how to take a compliment. “Flattery,” he said dryly, looking more amused than anything else. “And where do you expect that to get you, Your Excellency?”

“Most likely, alone in my large, very comfortable bed.”

Kurt chuckled, and the sound was like warm brandy on a cold day, sending heat curling through her. “I guess we’ll have to wait and see.”

[introvert-no-chameleon]

Meeting the Man-Ape

So @sleepsentry made this amazing AU and my childhood Tarzan phase came back like a vengeful ghost and teamed up with my current GF obsession to deliver this ficlet and an entire outline. 

Anyway, here’s how I imagine Fidds’ and Tarzan!Stan first meeting. 

*

Fiddleford should have said no when his old college friend had invited him to a scientific expedition to study anomalies in other countries. Maybe if he hadn't been so disillusioned with his lap computers, or if he hadn't gone through a divorce, he would've had enough sense to stay at home.

Instead, here he was, in some god-forsaken jungle in the middle of nowhere on a tree of all things, hugging the massive moss-covered trunk for dear life.

The humidity was suffocating, making him sweat to the point where his button up stuck stubbornly to his skin. He felt wet in uncomfortable places, itchy in others, and overall decided he did not, in fact, want to be here. To make matters worse, he was sure he would stumble onto camp smelling like wet socks. The ominous chirping and roaring in the jungle around him did nothing to alleviate his stress  nor did the occasional shufflingnhe'd heard among the trees.

He'd gotten chased up a tree, lost his shoe and lost track of Stanferd and their incredibly untrustworthy guide, (a poacher of all things) and he was pretty sure he was about to fall to his untimely demise.

Wonderful. They'll probably never find his body in this unholy mess. His tombstone will read “Fiddleford Hadron McGucket, the Biggest Damn Fool to Ever Live”.

He huffed, holding onto the tree he was in the process of climbing. The tips of his toes were on the one he'd stood on. He stretched, pulled his weight up...and found himself stuck between both of them with no way to move.

Fuck.

"Well," he muttered. "It ain't like this can get any worse."

As if the Lord Himself had heard Fiddleford, a clap of thunder shook the sky, followed by a heavy torrent of rain.

"You know what? I shoulda known better."

He slumped, hanging his head between his shoulder blades. Against his better judgement he decided to see just how high up he was to assess just how bad he messed up.

One can imagine his surprise, then, when another human face floated inches away from his own.

Fiddleford yelled, pushing himself away from the stranger. He immediately regretted the knee-jerk reaction when he felt his body swerve downwards. Apparently, he was high up enough that the trunks of the trees felt dizzyingly tall. He flailed his arms in an attempt to regain balance.

A single finger poked his nose, then gently pushed him back. The gesture sent Fiddleford toppling backwards, until his butt landed on a steady surface.

Oh thank goodness. He exhaled in relief, allowing himself a few moments to regain his composure.

The soft thud in front of him jolted him back to his current situation. Or rather, the person whom he was with.

A masculine figure with thick, long locks of brown hair and hunched on fours much like an ape, observed Fiddleford with curious, child-like wonder. The only thing this person wore to preserve their modesty was a loincloth. The rest of their body had impressive muscles, their fingers and toes wide-spread to better their grip on the trunk they were on. Which meant they not only climbed their way up, they must've done so quickly, because Fiddleford certainly would've noticed a person like this around him.

Right. The fabled man-ape. Of course Stanferd would've actually been right about this one thing, and of course Fiddleford had been the one to find them.

No matter. His momma had taught him manners, and he wasn't about to throw those away just because he was in unfamiliar territory. "Er, howdy," said Fiddleford, cautiously. "It's a pleasure to meet ya, the name's Fiddleford Hadron McGucket." He extended his hand to the stranger.

The ape-man cocked their head to the side. Fiddleford couldn't help but notice how eerily similar this person was to Stanferd. Aside from the fact that they haven't shaved, they still had the same broad nose, the bushy eyebrows, the brown eyes alight with excitement.

Please, this ain't some movie. Stanferd havin' some secret twin? That would be ridiculous. But back to the situation at hand--he probably don't understand a thing I'm sayin'. This'll be tricky…

The man-ape cleared their throat. They pointed at themself, and with a shocklingly deep voice, said: "Er...howdy. The name's Fiddleford Hadron McGucket."

Now that was interesting. "Fascinating...ya even copied the inflection of mah voice."

The man-ape copied Fiddleford's sentence again, looking pleased with themselves.

"That still spells the question of whether or not ya understand--now hold on just one second!"

The ape-man had crawled over and admired Fiddleford's shoe-less foot, a process which entailed pulling Fiddleford closer for inspection. They were mighty strong, too, judging by how easily he moved Fiddleford.

The scientist slapped the ape-man's hand away. "See here, there is no need for that kind of tomfoolery!"

The ape-man grunted. The message didn't come across, because he went back to touching him, albeit more carefully.

"No, no, that ain't what I meant!" A giggle escaped Fiddleford as he touched each of his toes, soon replaced by full-on-laughter.

This startled his companion, who drew back for a moment, giving Fiddleford enough time to catch his breath. They stared, watching Fiddleford intently.

They suddenly widened their eyes. Approaching Fidds once more, he placed a hand on his own chest. Then he slowly moved his own to Fiddleford's, waiting.

Now intrigued again, Fiddleford placed the hand over his chest. Once a few moments passed, they brought Fiddleford's entire head to his own chest and good lord they were hairy.

They also smelled like a sweaty mess. Fiddleford was quick to push them away. "Yes, that's a...mighty fine heartbeat ya have. Very healthy."

If this is what the anomalies felt when they studied them, he couldn't blame some of them for wanting to rip he and Ford a new one. He himself felt more than a little irritated at the bold-faced intrusiveness.

They extended their hand, but this time stopped in mid air, and held their palm towards Fiddleford.

With some hesitation, Fiddleford went up and held his own palm up. They placed it right against his. When their fingers interlaced Fiddleford's, he felt his face flush.

He drew his hand back towards himself, coughing. "Well, I-I think that's enough of that."

"Tar...stan."

Fiddleford blinked up at his new companion. "Say what now?"

They pointed at themselves. "Tarstan." They pointed at Fiddleford. "Er...howdy. The name's Fiddleford Hadron McGucket."

Fiddleford chuckled. "That's too much of a mouthful, I reckon."

"That's too much of a-"

Fiddleford shook his head. "No, it's. Now, wait, look at me," he said gesturing at their eyes and then himself. "Fiddleford."

"Fiddleford," they said, pointing at the scientist. They gestured at themself. "Tarstan."

Fiddleford nodded, his mouth split into a grin. "That's right! Now we're gettin' somewhere."

The sound of a gunshot had him jolt upwards, cursing up a storm. He was thankful Tarstan was too occupied glancing at the source of the sound to repeat any of it.

"That must be Bill." His lips curled into a disgusted frown. "Damn fool, shooting all over the place, he'll hurt somebody…"

Tarstan imitated the gunshot, an amused smile playing on their lips.

An idea formed in Fiddleford's head. "Do ya think ya can get me over there? To where that noise is?"

They grinned, which he took as a good sign as any. Tarstan looping his arm around his waist was considerably less reassuring.

"Er, what're we doing--sweet sarsaparilla!"

Tarstan leaped onto a vine,  keeping his grip on Fiddleford as he did so. He managed to not only keep his grip, but also swing them from vine to vine in the direction of Bill's shooting.

He couldn't describe it then, but later on he'd reflect on the ominous twist in the pit of his stomach as they approached the camp. If Fiddleford had known just what would've happened in the next few months, he probably would've never brought them anywhere near Bill.

*

Extra Ideas that I Have:

-Ford secretly has been hoping to find his lost twin, who “died” in the same area as the fabled “man-ape” because he was separeted from his brother at a young age when [insert whatever idea one may have to explain how Stan could end up in a jungle being raise by apes, because I don’t have one]. He is estatic that not only is his brother alive, he’s an anomaly just like him! 

-I imagine Bill’s motives being very similar to the Tarzan villain (whatever his name is) . Fidds in this AU is more suspicious, but is still unable to stop him alone.

-Fiddleford ends up falling for Tarzan!Stan and vice versa much like Jane does in the OG film.

-Stanford also is intent on having his brother return to civilization, but Tarzan!Stan is unsure about leaving.

-I imagine them having an ending similar to the film. 

[erekiosuncreativeideas]

Being Human - Chapter 23

<= Chapter 22

Summary : Snatcher is taken to a familiar room of the manor. Also available on AO3 : https://archiveofourown.org/works/24826561/chapters/74145501

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(Trigger warning for this chapter : emotional abuse and creepy situation)

HEEEEEEY NEW CHAPTER

SO. Let me put some dates here.

Sunday 4th of April 2021 : chapter 24 will be posted. Thursday 8th of April 2021 : chapter 25 (last chapter) will be posted.

Why do I wait a few days to post the last chapters ? Because I want to draw for them, and, if possible, make as many drawings I can. Hopefully, you'll like this chapter and the last two as well ! Thank you for remaining so passionate about this story since its beginning, it means a lot to me !

The “Oh The Humanity” AU belongs to @doodledrawsthings​​ !

Uh if you’re interested, I post my progress on my chapters on Hatty Fan Time (the AHIT Discord server I’m moderating with two friends), so if you wanna join, go ahead !

Happy reading !

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Chapter 23 : “I can do this, I can… I will do this.”   

-“There we are,” sing-sang the Queen, opening the door leading to the nursery. To Snatcher’s horror, while the room was still relatively damaged, mostly with claw marks on the walls, it remained recognizable. The sight was enough to give him flashbacks of the time they had commissioned this room, of the time they had entered it the first time after it was completed- The former ghost could remember it like it was yesterday: the couple had been so happy, staying in the room for a good hour, imagining how their child would be like, how they wanted to give them as much love as possible… But none of that ever happened.

Instead, the Subcon Freezing had happened, ruining all hope for Snatcher to ever have kids, ruining his dreams of having a family with the woman he loved so, so much.

And now, he was back in that cursed room, a room that was reminding him of what could have been, had things been different.

Snatcher had no choice but to rely on Vanessa so he wouldn’t put any weight on his broken ankle. No need to say this was frustrating… And extremely frightening, having to depend on the one who had mercilessly killed you. The former ghost knew he had no choice anyway and he could do nothing but clench his teeth, hoping nothing would happen. With a swift gesture, the Queen grabbed him by the wrist and pulled him inside, soon closing the door behind them. The sudden movement made him cry out in pain as it forced his body to put weight on his injured ankle. It didn’t take long for Vanessa to notice what had happened and she quickly helped him to straighten, a sickening smile painted on her face.

-“There, there,” she cooed: “It’s okay. You know what you need ?” she then asked, completely out of the blue. A look of fear crossed his features as he heard her words. Oh, this couldn’t be good, now, could it…? The Queen remained silent after her own question and her face grew irritated, which were pretty good indicators that she was waiting for an answer from him. With this realization, the child quickly realized he had to give her a sign, anything- and so, unable to speak, he just shook his head, his whole body trembling from the pain, the fear and the cold.

Seeming satisfied with Snatcher’s reply, even if non-vocal, she smiled again and quickly picked him up without any warning. Naturally, out of surprise, the former ghost gasped and started to struggle. How could he not, when his own murderer was holding him in her arms, without any difficulty? However, it didn’t take much to convince him otherwise: Vanessa’s warning glare and the pain in his ankle from the movements were more than enough.

-“Now, now,” she sermonized him, all while carrying him to the crib. As soon as she got them both closer, he guessed her intents, and his face paled up. God, this nightmare was just becoming even worse- she was going to put him into the crib where their child should have been hundreds of years ago, should they have been born.

This was so disturbing, so creepy-…! But, apparently, Vanessa wasn’t seeing anything wrong with this. She really was taking him for a child, a child she had to care for.

This was sickening.

-“W-wait!” he interrupted her just as she was about to lower him into the pink crib, and she gave him both a confused and annoyed look.

-“What’s the matter?” she asked back, narrowing her eyes and furrowing her brow. Oh, this wasn’t good.

-“I’m… I’m too old to be in a cradle,” he tried, hoping this would be enough, though he couldn’t help but giggle nervously, his eyes looking away in fear they’d see anger on the Queen’s face, maybe worse. She stared at him for a moment… And soon enough, a light laughter left her lips, all trace of annoyance gone from her face, as if those had never been there in the first place.

-“Oh ho ho,” she took a deep breath as she finished laughing, sighing. Snatcher… Didn’t like that.

-“W-what…?” he wondered, his voice trembling from uncertainty and dread. Why would she laugh at something like this?

-“Oh, silly one,” she replied, an even more sickening smile painted on her ghostly lips, one that was letting him see her sharp fangs: “You need to rest, and I have the perfect bed for that. Your age doesn’t matter, does it? Cribs are for children, and you are one, don’t you?” she retorted, as if this was oh so very obvious.

Perhaps she had remained too unstable for years to remember cradles were for young infants, or toddlers. Her madness had affected her perception of reality, so much that she couldn’t see the problem here- or maybe she did, though in that case, why would she care? She had murdered him centuries ago, she wouldn’t feel guilty about forcing a kid into a crib!

And, well, it wasn’t like he could struggle more, seeing his injured ankle. After all, not only did this hurt, but this was also a very good warning of what could happen to him should he resist more. All of his instincts were crystal clear: “wait for the right opportunity”, they instructed him. And so, as the Queen lowered him into the cradle, Snatcher did his best not to cringe at the thought and didn’t resist. Once done, Vanessa stepped back and looked at him with a twisted fondness, one that made Snatcher want to throw up. Though he knew better and stayed still and silent.

-“Aaaw, look at you!” the Queen cooed, as if this was the cutest thing she had even seen in years- which was probably the case, in hindsight: “See, you fit just right!” At this remark, the young Prince examined the crib. Yeah, sure, he could fit while sitting- but lying down? This was another story. With the body of a twelve years old kid, or around that age, it was obvious this was the worst choice ever for a bed.

Although… Although this was much, much better than being put in Vanessa’s, he just realized. A chill ran down his spine at the thought. Yeah… Yeah, the cradle wasn’t so bad in comparison.

Snatcher’s thoughts were interrupted as he heard a clap of hands next to him- and unsurprisingly, it was her.

-“Good!” she spoke again: “Now that you’re ready to rest, I’ll bake some cookies!” She started to walk to the door and the former shade felt relieved at the idea of her leaving him alone- but just before exiting the room, she stopped and turned to him, a knowing smile on her lips:

-“Stay in the bed and sleep, alright?” she told him, and Snatcher had no trouble to detect that this was not a suggestion: “I don’t want anyone running around here. Otherwise, there will be consequence. Have I made myself clear… Uh…” she stopped for a moment, thinking, before tilting her head to the side: “Wait, what is your name? I don’t think I asked you before, did I?”

Oh. Oh crap. He obviously couldn’t give her his old name, this was the worst possible thing to do- but what other name could he use? Obviously, if he took too much time to decide, she would know… And yet, no words could leave his mouth.

Snatcher was simply paralyzed. At no time he had expected her to ask about his name- but how could he not think of anything like this?

-“Well?” she urged him, getting suspicious. Oh no, oh no, he had to find something, quick…!

-“Lu...” he tried, hoping he’d find a name close to his old one, something that would easily evoke close forms of the name “Lukas”, he lacked too much time to think more. But nothing was coming in his mind: “Lu…!”

The Queen frowned, confused.

-“Lulu?” she repeated, as a confirmation she had understood. Instantly, a wave of relief washed over him, though he did his best to hide it as much as he could.

-“Y-yes,” he nodded weakly, with a trembling smile: “That’s… That’s my name, yes,” he lied, trying so hard to keep his “happy mask” on. As a response, Vanessa stared at him, as if she were watching for any sign of lie in his words, in his expression. Snatcher hands were becoming clammy from how dreadful this whole situation was, his heart was beating loud and fast in his chest, he was doing his best to keep his breathing under control, no matter how difficult this was… And, finally…!

-“This is such a cute name!” exclaimed Vanessa with glee, clasping her hands once more: “Well, Lulu. I hope I can trust you, right?” Another warning, one that was even more obvious than the last one. The former ghost forced himself to smile again, despite how insincere it must have looked- but perhaps Vanessa was too unstable to see it, or so he hoped.

-“Of… Of course!” he lied again, with a nod: “I’ll just… Sleep and wait for you to come back,” he assured, hoping this would suffice. And fortunately…

-“Perfect!” her face lightened up, yet Snatcher couldn’t tell if she was fully convinced. In any case, she grabbed the door handle and waved at him affectionately, like a mother would do to her child. This was… Extremely upsetting, given the circumstances. Still, the child merely forced another smile… And let out a huge sigh of relief as the Queen finally left the room.

Gods, this had been much, much more terrorizing than anything he could have potentially imagined.

Doing everything he could to remain silent, the young Prince listened closely to her steps slowly getting away, and waited a few more minutes, just to be sure. When he was sure she was definitely far away from this room, Snatcher tried to straighten up, only to be cut short by the acute pain on his ankle. Oh yeah.

There was this problem too.

The former ghost winced and frowned. What could he do for that? He couldn’t possibly escape with such an injury… Not only would it hurt, but he was pretty sure he wouldn’t be able to move discreetly. With Vanessa being in the room under this one… Oh, yes, she would definitely hear him. Then what? It wasn’t like he could miraculously heal that ankle-

However, his body froze as a stroke of genius burst in his mind. Maybe, just, maybe this could work… Frowning and wincing in advance, not really sure if this would succeed… Snatcher moved his hands to his broken ankle and closed his eyes, focusing.

He had learnt healing magic in his past life… Now, it was just a matter of hoping this small and frail body would allow him to use it. And so, the former ghost tried to find the small spark of magic he still had under this form. Breathing in and out, it was like trying to find something that was now hidden in the depth of his mind, something that felt so familiar and yet so foreign.

“Come on…” he urged himself, feeling himself getting closer and closer to that feeling he was trying so hard to find. Healing magic wasn’t as easy as fire one for him, one of the main reasons being that his mother’s family had been gifted with the power of fire. Summoning flames was thus easier for him- healing magic, though? This was a complete new story. While fire had been easy to learn at the time, him being a natural at it, the other types of magic had to be learnt the traditional way, with teachers, a lot of reading and study times, and getting familiarized with the elements you were learning.

Of course, in his situation, Snatcher couldn’t really use any of those things. All he could do was trying to focus… And soon enough, he began to feel tingles at the tips of his fingers. Yes, this is what he had been looking for! A small smile of victory spread on his lips, but he did his best to remain focused. In the meantime, the child could feel his injured ankle becoming number and number to the pain, and maybe… Bones shifting around a bit, though it was more uncomfortable than actually painful. This was working, this was working, he knew it, he knew he could-!

And suddenly, Snatcher felt like he lost all grasp on his magic. Shocked, the former shade opened his eyes, the tingling sensation in his fingertips quickly disappearing as if it had never been there at all. Why? Confusion spread onto his features and he looked at his hands, almost hoping he’d see what went wrong. But everything seemed normal.

And in fact, it was, thinking about it. The fact that he had been able to summon healing magic when he was in a body inexperienced with it… Was already quite an achievement, and it made sense it wouldn’t last, that this would be too unstable for that.

The former ghost tentatively moved his ankle, already wincing in advance in fear of how much it would hurt- but it wasn’t as painful as he had first thought. He slowly and carefully palpated his skin, trying to feel what had changed. Sure, touching it hurt, however… However, he was almost sure that his bones weren’t broken anymore.

He had managed to heal the biggest part of his injury. A long sigh of relief left his lips: things were… Going really well. But Snatcher was far from being over with this, oh, very, very far. He still had to escape this cursed place.

As silently as he could, Snatcher straightened up and hopped over the guardrail of the crib. His feet met the floor with a muffled sound, which was enough to scare him: had Vanessa heard anything? The sudden pressure on his ankle made his face tensed greatly though he managed to contain the urge to whine in pain.

This body was definitely one of a child… But to the former shade, he was sure that his mind had been altered to a degree, and this was not something he liked. He had to find the kids and Moonjumper, making sure they were alive, that he had managed to save them… And have the brats returning him to his adult for- no, his spirit form. Yes, that was what he wanted, and for a moment, he felt confused as to why this hadn’t been the first thing popping in his mind.

What was happening to him…?

The child forced his mind to focus back on reality: this wasn’t the time for questions. Who knew how much time he had before Vanessa decided to check up on him? If he had to try something, without getting caught, this was literally now or never. Waiting was dangerous, especially if his friends needed him- it was really cold outside, freezing even… Would he even get there on time? He was pretty far away, especially on foot…

“No,” he tried to reassure himself: “I can do this, I can… I will do this.”

Determination was now fueling inside of him, almost making him forget the pain in his ankle and how low the temperatures were in the manor. He himself was also on a time limit: his fragile body would become less efficient the colder it would get- Snatcher couldn’t lose any more time.

Slowly, silently, the child moved to the door and slightly opened it. Good, it hadn’t been locked, and he couldn’t hear anything coming closer, whether it was a voice or steps. Another sigh of relief left his lips, and after hesitating a bit… The young Prince took a deep breath and moved forward, entering the hallway with a mix of apprehension, fear, and resolve.

He was going to leave this manor and find his friends again.

This was a promise.

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ONLY TWO CHAPTERS LEFT

I hope you liked this chapter, I can't wait to show you the ending of this fanfiction ! Thank you so much for following me this far, and I hope you'll be there for my next fanfic too ! (I already have an idea of the story, so now it's a matter of making it better and actually writing it).

See you next Sunday !

=> Chapter 24