#and yes my computer really did do that pity me I’m on mourning (rest in peace jeramia?)

[thebirdmanhewatches]

Me casually creating my third set of sims featuring a god figure self insert, the central focus of its torment, those complicit, and a child chosen: sure hope I don’t accidentally make a story more beautiful than any I try to construct with thought

[yuta-nakamots]

Candle Light - l.hc ; Part 2 of 2 (End)

Pairing - College!Haechan x Ghost!Reader

Genre - Fluff but mostly angst at the end

Warnings - Character death, supernatural activity (you are literally a ghost)

Summary - As the resident ghost that haunts your old apartment, you take pride in scaring away those who dare move in, not wanting them to ruin your memories. Though your mission changes after a group of boys arrive. These are the four boys you allow into your space and your heart. One of them is the candle that supports you, and you are the fire that burns atop it, his beacon of light.

Word Count - 6.2k

A/N - as always, credit goes to @soleilhyuck​ for coming up with the idea for this fic. thank you for patiently waiting and giving lots of love to this series and please look forward to frat boy!yuta next month as well <3

Tag List - @sunflowerhae @eunsangelical @soleilhyuck @neoyoungho @carefreebubble @sly-merlin @jisungismymom @jimelonji @lyraaacle @peachy-yabbay @yomanitsgonnabehee​

January 2020

News about the new virus was quickly spreading, as was the disease itself, unironically. You sat next to Renjun as he watched the news on TV and played a game on his phone while Jeno was lying on the floor in front of the coffee table as he typed out an essay on his laptop.

You watched as the newscaster stood in front of a graph showing the number of cases spiking up as he said “all local colleges will be migrating to an online schooling system for the second half of this year” to which Jeno let out a loud groan at.

“How the fuck am I supposed to do all my labs then?” he muttered under his breath, angrily hitting the carpeted floor. You laughed at his childish action, Jeno’s head whipping around as he looked in your general direction with his pupils shaking as he tried to find a face to match the voice he had just heard.

“Hey y/n, I think Jeno can hear you,” Renjun said nonchalantly as he continued watching the news station on TV, “okay, Jeno wait I think you should pay attention to the screen.”

He informed the other boy just in time as the anchor said “certain schools have disclosed that some students may still be required to return to campus for activities such as labs or other assessment events.”

Jeno rolled onto his back, letting out another groan that was almost actually a growl. “I don’t know which is worse. Having to go to school during a pandemic, or having to learn from my computer 24/7.”

February 2020

As more plans for the second semester were announced, Jeno did end up having to still visit the campus for his labs so he was occasionally out along with Jaemin who was volunteering at a hospital nearby, the same one your body was taken to after the incident, not that you’d ever tell them that though.

Jaemin had convinced Renjun to come along saying “we need extra help and it’s not like you’re doing anything anyways now that class is online” as he quite literally dragged Renjun out the front door.

This left you with Haechan, who was only able to see you in certain instances because he was still not totally sure if you really existed or not. He still used the scented candles in his room, much to your distaste, since you found yourself having to put out the flame nearly every night due to his forgetfulness.

He’d spend almost every waking moment on his computer playing Overwatch and whatever other games he was into, only stopping when we had to attend his mandatory online lectures. Even then, he’d still have the game up on his screen, barely even caring about the lecture.

Eventually, this irritated you enough, having been quite a good student yourself, to the point where you just lost it when you saw him pull up his school account and you peered over his shoulder and realizing how bad his grades really were.

“You shouldn’t do that, you know.” You spoke to him, hovering behind him as you read through the contents of his student profile.

Haechan froze for a second, surprised by your voice though he didn’t make an effort to turn around. “Well, you shouldn’t just scare people like that.” He retorted at you.

“Then don’t take your college life for granted,” you remark, not missing the high amount of absences he had even though all his courses were online, “I would’ve loved to have completed mine, but that just didn’t seem to be in my life plan now, was it?” You asked rhetorically, your voice laced with sarcasm to match his.

“What are you gonna do about it, huh?” He spat out at you. “You can’t force me to study.”

You rolled your eyes at him even if he couldn’t see you as you scoffed, “yes I can.” Quite literally, you moved through his desk and unplugged his computer from its power socket. A satisfactory grin fell upon your face as you heard his monitor die out and you look at him. His mouth was slightly agape as he finally saw you up close, your previously translucent figure becoming clearer and clearer to him with every second that passed.

From then on, Haechan consciously made an effort to cut back on his gaming and dedicate more time to his schoolwork, as he hated not knowing when you’d decide to pop into his room again and he didn’t want to risk more damage to his precious computer.

Sometimes he’d spend so much time studying that he’d even fall asleep at his desk, to which you could only sigh at as you fanned out the flames of his stupid scented candles that he continued to use before grabbing his blanket from his bed and placing it atop his shoulders.

March 2020

You found that you actually quite enjoyed spending time with Haechan as he was more entertaining and witty than Renjun. Though on a particularly slow afternoon, you watched Haechan as he went about making a sandwich in the kitchen, making yourself known to him by a light tug on his shirt before he asked “so why exactly do you haunt this apartment?”

You were leaning against the kitchen island behind him, not even having bothered to materialize in your semi-human form since you let him pick and choose when he wanted to see you or not. “If I’m being honest, I really don’t know. All I’m sure about is that this unit is my unit. It always has been and it always will be.”

“Well, what are your ties to this place? What does it mean to you?” He pressed on as he grabbed a slice of bologna from the refrigerator.

After pausing for a second as you recall your past, you told him “this is where I grew up, my parents moved here when I started elementary school and I’ve lived here for almost twenty years until I died and ever since then, I’ve just been here.”

“I’m sorry,” he interjected, looking at you and making eye contact to let you know he was being sincere, “I really am. You had so much to live for, your whole life ahead of you.” He shook his head in pity as he unwrapped a piece of cheese.

“Things don’t always go according to your plan, as you can see,” you stated before continuing on with your story, “anyways, my family moved out shortly after my incident because my sister would always cry whenever she had to pass the spot I was last alive at and eventually my parents couldn’t take it anymore so they just up and left.”

Haechan was unscrewing the lid of the jar of mayonnaise when he asked “why didn’t you stop them? Or did you try but they just weren’t able to see you?”

“They couldn’t see or hear me. I tried calling out to them, telling them I was still here, I was still alive, but nothing worked...and so they left me behind.” Your voice trailing off at the end as you felt a familiar pain in your chest at the memory of your family.

Haechan hummed in acknowledgment, spreading pieces of lettuce over the top of his sandwich, going silent before speaking again. “I think you need closure. Do you know where your family went to? I’m pretty sure we could--”

“No, I’d rather not talk to them.” You interrupted, not wanting to witness your family in pain again after having to watch them mourn your death in this very apartment. To them, you were a thing of the past and you wished to stay that way.

“You can’t just be cursed to wander around this unit for the rest of your life, or lack thereof. That’s a bit…” he paused as he wracked his brain for a word, turning up blank, “sad, for lack of a better word.”

You watched as he placed a slice of bread on top and pressed it down before biting into his creation. “It’s not like it was my choice in the first place, you know,” you strongly articulated, “if you really wanted to help me then you’d leave this place and let me wander in peace now that you know my story.”

“We both know damn well that you’re not gonna be happy if we leave you on your own.” And the most surprising part of his statement was that he was right.

April 2020

After your previous conversation with Haechan, the two of you started avoiding each other and you ended up spending more time with Jeno when he eventually came around to being able to see you. He was more of an easygoing presence and he didn’t mind it when you stayed in his room, he just asked that you “don’t mess with my stuff like when you stacked all my books up and turned my clothes inside out” the memory of it still makes you laugh to yourself.

You felt bad for Jeno, seeing him come home already exhausted from his labs and lectures, letting out a loud sigh whenever he entered through the front door as he was finally able to take off his face mask and allow himself to take a deep breath of air.

You’d often find him dozing off at his desk, his face resting either on his arm or on whatever page he had been going over. Sometimes, if you knew the assignment was important or if the deadline was near, you’d try to keep him awake by doing this like clicking his book or dropping a book on the floor. But if he was really knocked out, all you could do was just plug in his electronics to let them charge before bookmarking his page and clearing his desk for him.

On the night of his 20th birthday, the boys decided to have their own mini-party, which you excused yourself from. You didn’t want to get in the way of their celebration since you didn’t know for sure where you stood with Haechan and that’s on top of the fact that Jaemin still didn’t believe in your existence.

You stayed in Jeno’s room, softly plucking at the strings of his guitar which he had kindly left out for you. He had previously voiced his worries about you getting bored from always staying in the unit, which you found quite cute of him.

He came back to his room around midnight and you watched as he drunkenly made his way to the bathroom, stumbling in and nearly tripping over his own feet. You heard him throwing up into the toilet but you stayed put, knowing that you wouldn’t be of much help anyway. You recognized the sound of Haechan’s voice as he entered from his own side and tried to clean Jeno up.

Moments later, Haechan came into the room carrying a near unconscious Jeno to the bed you were currently sitting on. All Haechan had to do was merely glance at you before you were already materializing in human form to put Jeno’s guitar back on its stand and help Haechan get the birthday boy into bed.

Once Jeno was tucked in and snoring, you looked up at Haechan and he nodded his head in the direction of his room, inviting you to come over with him, which you did without much hesitation. You sat on the edge of his bed as he started up his computer as he asked you “don’t you ever get tired of just staying in the apartment all the time?”

You watched as he typed in his login information as you responded, “kind of, I guess. It’s all I know so it’s not like I really have anywhere else to go.”

“Have you ever tried leaving the building, or this unit at all?” He inquired while pulling up a page on google.

You thought for a moment before answering him. “No, I’ve never really wanted to leave because I’m comfortable here.”

Haechan simply nodded and stated “fair enough” as he switched tabs before turning to you. “I found this article the other day and I think this is relevant to you.” He informed, beckoning you over to him. You moved closer and read it from over his shoulder.

Certain spirits roam the earth as ghosts due to their souls holding onto the regret they had while they were still living. It is common for these types of ghosts to stay in a place that they have special emotional ties to. They often try to scare away people who enter their sacred place as they are trying to preserve it as it is in their memory, resisting change. There have been successful cases of exorcism for these types of ghosts, though oftentimes, it serves to only anger them further, which is why exorcism is not recommended. Edit: It has been found that the spirits often pass on to the true afterlife once they let go of the regrets they are holding and free themselves from the baggage that is tying them to their sacred place.

“Haechan, I already told you, I’m not leaving.”

“But think about it, you can’t just continue existing with one foot in the afterlife, one foot in the during-life,” causing you to laugh at his wording, “aren’t there other dead people you’d like to meet? You know, like Michael Jackson or something?”

“Of course, but how would you know if there really is an afterlife where I could meet them?”

“I don’t, but aren’t you getting tired of just watching people come and go? Aren’t you curious about the existence of an afterlife? You’ve been here for what, two years?”

“Three years.” You corrected, though he was correct about your boredom and curiosity even if it really was just in the slightest form.

You weren’t looking forward to when the boys moved out as it meant you’d be left on your own again. You had grown used to the four of them since you had at least one of them home at nearly all times. You didn’t want them to leave and you had even though about asking them to stay, but you knew it would be unfair to them as they had previously talked about their future educational plans.

Renjun already was in the process of transferring to a school or arts to further hone his skills as he was nearing the completion of his traditional core credits. Jeno wanted to study abroad and experience different cultures while Jaemin simply would follow along, having promised both of their parents that he would look out for Jeno and make sure he didn’t overwork himself though oftentimes it was the other way around.

As finals came around again, you witnessed the boys and their ways of dealing with the stress of their exams. Renjun simply painted aggressively while Jeno started stretching and working out more often and Jaemin, who still wasn’t able to hear or see you, resorted to cooking. You couldn’t believe Haechan broke out those godforsaken candles yet again, even after you had voiced your hatred for them, having to put out their flames and clean up the dripping wax as to not cause a fire hazard.

One day, Jaemin was finally able to see a faint outline of your silhouette when you managed to catch the knife he had accidentally pushed off the counter while preparing dinner for the guys. He really didn’t believe them when they spoke of your existence, he simply thought it was some kind of odd prank they were all in on, but when he saw his knife floating mere centimeters above his foot, he realized they weren’t lying at all.

Ever since then, you’ve enjoyed hanging around with all four of the boys. They each introduced you to their hobbies and did their best at including you in as many activities as possible. Renjun was overjoyed when he saw you lift a brush from his case and when you asked if you could join him. He was painting a simple sunset and was more than happy to have your company. Renju let you paint any way you wished, only helping here and there to blend in your strokes and fix some of the color gradients.

After it dried, you stood back as he hung the canvas up in the living room with a broad smile on his face. He turned around and you watched as his expression morphed into one of confusion when he didn’t see you behind him and he called out your name. You felt a sense of anxiety creep up on you, reminiscent of the feeling of when your own family were not about to see you.

You knew Renjun had it easiest when it came to seeing and hearing you so why was he having a hard time now? “Oh, there you are.” He said, when you came into his view again, seemingly lightheartedly but it was hard for both of you to feel at ease after what just occurred.

It happened again when you were with Jeno as he was teaching you how to play a few chords on his guitar, something you had always wanted to do in your active lifetime. The two of you had been going at it for about an hour now and things were going pretty smoothly aside from Jeno having to help press the strings down when your own fingers weren’t enough.

You were able to learn a few simple chords separately but right before you were able to string them all together, the guitar suddenly fell through your hold into Jeno’s hands that were helping you apply pressure to the strings. He let out a noise of surprise as he too could no longer see your form.

He blinked rapidly, thinking it was his own eyes playing tricks on him until you saw him relax as both of you witnessed your own body flicker back into existence. This time, there was definitely no denying what just happened.

Later that night you went to Haechan and told him both accounts of what was going on and you broke down in tears, telling him how you didn’t want to leave them just yet. He rubbed your back as you clung on to his shirt, your tears would’ve been soaking it if you weren’t a ghost.

As much as you wanted to stay in his embrace, he told you that he had to study for an upcoming final so you instead settled for lying on his bed and staring up at the ceiling as you let your mind wander through all the what-ifs going through your head.

You’re not sure how much time passed before Haechan finally climbed into his bed, throwing an arm over your waist. No sooner than before he lifted his head to speak to you, his arm dropped through your body and fell onto his bed. The shock was evident on his face as he watched you fade out from his view.

Haechan frantically reached out, trying to grasp onto something, anything to tell him that you were still there as he called out your name. You did the same to him, but your cries fell on deaf ears until one of your hands managed to grab ahold of his and he found your eyes, the fear in his mirroring your own.

You laid with Haechan as he slept that night, scared that you’d cease to exist if he weren’t by your side to validate your presence every so often.

May 2, 2020

One night, as all of you were in the living room watching a show on Netflix, as per Renjun’s recommendation, you mentioned these repeated occurrences to them causing a thick silence to fall over everyone as they processed what this possibly meant for you.

Again, you sought out Haechan’s comfort that night and stayed by his side as he slept because being with him made you feel the slightest bit more real, even when his arm dropped from your waist again.

Now that finals week was over, the boys were home more often, though Jaemin still continued to work and volunteer at the hospital with Renjun, leaving you with Jeno and Haechan. Not much changed as you still continued to stick to Haechan like glue.

May 14, 2020

About two weeks after you had first brought up the topic of your frequency disappearances, you were lying next to Haechan in his bed as you both watched videos on his phone. He abruptly turned it off and turned to face you. “Have you ever been in a relationship before?”

You shook your head, “no, I was always too bust for one.”

“Did you want to be in one? Do you want to be in one?” You froze as you looked at him, not sure if he meant what you’re thinking he means. “On a scale from one to ten, how mad would you be right now if I told you I might have feelings for you?”

You thought for a moment before responding. “Depends on if you’re being serious or not.”

“I’m dead serious. Okay, maybe not dead, but you know what I mean.” He said, poking fun at his word choice.

“Do you really like me?” You asked, unsure if you were thinking clearly.

“Yes,” he paused, “but only if you like me back.”

“Is this just a spur of the moment thing or have you actually had feelings for me before this?” You could feel your cheeks heating up and you were suddenly grateful that he couldn’t see you as if you were a normal human.

“For a while now.” He stated, shrugging his shoulders as if it were nothing.

Your eyes grew wide in shock. “I...Haechan, as much as I’m flattered, we both know it’s not going to work out,” your voice getting caught in your throat, “you’re human, you’re still alive. There’s someone out there for you--”

“Okay and?”

“There’s someone who you can hold, someone you can kiss and make love to, someone you can have a family with--”

“And what if that someone is you?” He interrupted again. “What if you’re the someone I want to hold, to kiss, to spend time with?”

“Haechan...I don’t know…” Your voice coming out as more of a whisper.

His eyes searched yours as he spoke. “Just let me kiss you...please.”

You let out a small “okay” as your eyes fluttered shut and you felt his lips meet yours. He showed you the warmth you didn’t know you could even feel as you allowed yourself to melt into his kiss. Had it not been for your body disintegrating again and causing Haechan to fall forward, you probably would’ve stayed kissing him until he was begging for air.

“I guess that’s the universe telling me to give you a break for a bit.” He chuckled while he grabbed his phone and unpaused the video he was playing earlier as he waited for you to appear again. You didn’t have to look at him to know there was a smile plastered on his face as you wrapped your arms around him and nuzzled your face into his chest the very second you could.

If you were considered to be clingy with Haechan, now you were practically inseparable.

May 17, 2020

It was a rare occurrence for all four of them to be home together during the day so Jaemin took it as an opportunity to gather everyone for lunch. He didn’t even knock as he opened the door to Haechan’s room, sticking his head in to say “lunch is ready. I made kimchi stew. Oh, hey y/n, haven’t seen you in a while.”

You whined in embarrassment due to the fact that you were currently seated in Haechan’s lap as he practically held you like a baby, cooing at you and littering kisses across your face.

Once Jaemin was gone, Haechan pressed a kiss to your forehead. “You’re cute when you’re embarrassed. You know that?” He said, ruffling your hair out of affection.

May 19, 2020

You watch with great interest as Haechan lugs a box into his bedroom and cuts it open, revealing an electronic keyboard. He had told you previously that he wanted to get back into playing piano, having played it when he was younger. You didn’t think he was actually serious enough about it to buy a whole keyboard which, from the looks of it, seemed pretty expensive.

You sat in his gaming chair as you watched him assemble the stand, handing him scissors when he asked and holding things in place when his own two hands weren’t enough. You didn’t trust yourself to do much else in case you randomly disappeared again. Your lips curved upwards as he plugged the keyboard into the socket on the wall and played a few chords, his own smile matching yours.

May 20, 2020

Sighing, you floating your way into Haechan’s room as you notice his sleeping figure hunched over his desk, a little string of drool landing on the lined paper he was writing on. Given that school was already over, you figured it was song lyrics that he was writing.

Haechan, along with getting back into playing piano, had also picked up song composition and lyric writing as well though he refused to show you any of the lyrics he wrote and claimed he’d be embarrassed if you saw them to which you rolled your eyes at. Haechan? Embarrassed? Now that was a rarity given that he was one of the most confident people you’ve ever met, not even bothering to cover himself up the few times you accidentally came in while he was changing his clothes.

But as confident as he was, he had yet to channel that into his lyric writing as he kept falling asleep after hours of trying to get them perfect. You fan out the candle he had been using and run your finger across his lip, gathering his drool, in order to prevent his from further wetting his paper.

You tried to slowly pull the paper out from under his head, doing your best to not wake him up, though your efforts were in vain as his eyes shot open the second you tugged a little too hard. It took Haechan only a second or two to figure out what you were doing before he snatched the paper from you while whining “I told you not to read them” as he puts it in a folder filled with other papers which you assume are also lyrics.

“I was only moving it so you wouldn’t drool on it like a baby.” You scoffed at him.

Haechan imitated your scoff back at you, “don’t lie,” he quipped, “I know you were going to read it as soon as you got your hands on it.”

“You know, you better quit it or else you’re sleeping alone tonight.” You threatened, knowing that your boyfriend of sorts has gotten used to your presence in his bed while he slept.

“No!” He exclaimed, his eyes growing wide in panic before he dove for his bed and gave you puppy eyes, begging you not to leave him.

May 25, 2020

At this point, your disappearances had become more frequent and lasted for longer durations, leaving the boys constantly guessing as to where you were. You could barely muster up the force to show yourself in your human form and physically move objects so you were glad when you realized they could all see you in your regular blue-tinted ghost state.

You considered yourself lucky when they told you they could still feel the gusts of wind you created while moving around, even when you became invisible. It may look stupid to you when you were rapidly moving your arms back in forth to let them know where you are, but it’s not like you cared when you knew they couldn’t see you anyways.

On this day, you were watching a show on TV with Renjun, though he could only vaguely sense your presence. When you heard the sink in the kitchen turn on, you left your seat and floated through the wall to see if it was Jaemin cooking again. Much to your surprise, it was Haechan who was actually doing the dishes for once.

You moved around behind him, alerting him of your presence. “Hey babe, came to do the dishes with me?” You rolled your eyes and rapidly fanned his neck, something you knew he hated because he was ticklish in that area. “Okay, okay, I get it.” He giggled while scrunching his neck.

“Is y/n with you in the kitchen?” Renjun called out from the living room. Haechan shouted back a short ‘yes’ to which you heard Renjun respond back with a slight laugh in his voice, “I thought she was still with me so I was talking about the show but I guess I was just talking to myself this whole time.”

May 29, 2020

No matter how much energy you concentrated, you just couldn’t seem to show yourself in your human form at all. You weren’t completely invisible to the boys yet, just fading in and out of your normal ghost forme every so often, though if you really tried hard  enough, you could force yourself to become visible again, even if it were only for a few seconds. You saved your energy for more important moments like when Haechan shot up from his place next to you in bed, sweating from the nightmare he was having.

For the past half hour or so, you watched him as he writhed in his sleep and you felt your heart wrench knowing there was nothing you could do to rouse him from his sleep, unable to do your normal actions of slamming windows or dropping books so you felt a sense of relief when he jolted awake and looked over to where he knew you’d be, his eyes searching for the outline of your body to give him some comfort.

You forced yourself to show up, glowing faintly in the darkened room as Haechan was able to catch your silhouette before it disappeared again. His eyes bore straight into yours, even if you knew that to him, he was simply staring at a wall so you didn’t move, not wanting to leave his gaze as he spoke to you.

“Y/n, I hope you know that every moment I spend with you is precious to you. Whether I can see you or not, I know when you’re with me.” He confessed, his eyes starting to tear up. “I can only hope that I am making your last moments precious for you as well.”

You hoped so desperately to have enough strength to show yourself again to let him know that you heard him and felt the same way, but you were unable to. Your own wet eyes mirrored his as you reached out a hand to cup his face, a tear slipping out of your eyes as you watch your hand merely fall through his cheek.

June 2, 2020

You’ve come to terms with the fact that your time on earth is running out when you can only seem to manage to materialize once or twice a day, lasting for only about a second each time. You were upset that you didn’t get to say a true goodbye to the other three boys, wanting to thank them for taking such good care of you. Maybe you just so hoped that this regret would keep you with them longer, if only for a few more days.

June 4, 2020

When Haechan returns to his room after eating breakfast with the rest of the guys, you watch as he sits down in front of his keyboard before turning around to face his bed, where he’s guessing you were as he spoke. “Y/n, I wrote this song for you. I don’t know how much longer I have left with you so I rushed the ending of it, but I wanted to show you now before it’s too late.”

With that, he turned back around and began playing a melody you had heard from him before though it was different this time around now that he was singing the lyrics he wrote for you.

Like Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Moments with you are always special. I’m thankful for all the days we spend together, At times like this I get shy, but it means I love you. When I see you brightly smiling and dazzling, My wish of us being together forever seems like it’ll come true. I know the future isn’t clear and the past might be sad, But don’t worry anymore. Just keep adding days like this. Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, I only have plans filled with you, I think it’s perfect. In my heart, my dreams were possible through you, I want to fulfill them all with you. I’m not alone, I’m with you, When I needed someone, you came to me. Even in the ordinary, I celebrate your preciousness, Please always stay by my side.

I want to give you gift-like days, you and me, me and you baby. Without leaving behind a single day, it’s only us. Like candlelight that never goes out, My wish of us being together forever seems like it’ll come true.

June 5, 2020

If you’re being completely honest with yourself, you’ve practically given up trying to make your whereabouts known to the boys, though they continued to speak to you as they estimated your location and if you were even present in the same room or not.

You wanted to tell Haechan how much you loved the song he wrote, but you were unable to. You wanted to do something for his birthday but you barely had enough strength to walk yourself from the balcony back into his room.

For the first time within the last four years of your existence, you felt tired. You had forgotten this feeling, what it was like to be tired and suddenly you remembered when all you wanted to do was lie down and sleep.

It was late already, the digital clock on Haechan’s desk reading 11:48pm as he stepped out from the bathroom, freshly showered. You eyed him, wanting to get up and kiss him all over, to give him the same love he gave to you, and you felt so helpless when you knew you wouldn’t be able to.

He lay down in his bed with his hair still slightly wet. “Can you believe it’s already been a whole year since we first moved in?” He turned his head, guessing at where your face was but returning his gaze to the ceiling to not make you feel bad before continuing on. “I never would’ve believed in ghosts if I hadn’t met you but now I’m always gonna think all ghosts are as sweet as you and that’s not good,” he said as he let out a laugh at the end, “I’m going to get myself killed if I try talking to a ghost that isn’t as kind and loving as you.”

Haechan went silent for a bit before continuing on. “But you would never let that happen right? You’ll be my angel watching down on me from above,” he paused as a sly smile appeared on his face, “or you’ll be my little demon waiting for me in hell.” He snicked to himself at his joke. “Ah, you’re probably trying to hit me right now. Don’t worry, I’ll do it myself.” And with that, he slapped his own cheek before telling you “I really love you and I hope you know that.”

June 6, 2020

As soon as the clock’s display changed to 12:00am, Haechan’s door burst open, revealing the other three boys with party hats atop their heads as they carried in a small cake with two candles on it, showing his new age of twenty. They began singing happy birthday and you even sang along with them, clapping your hands to the beat, even if they couldn’t hear you.

“Make a wish!” Renjun exclaimed once the song was over.

Haechan clasped his hands together as he closed his eyes for a few seconds. “Y/n, I know you’re still here. Before you go, please do this one last time for me.” He reopened his eyes and looked over at where he assumed you were and gestured towards the cake. You felt your heart swell with love as you took a final glance at him before using all your remaining energy to blow out the candle.

When the flame of the candle went out, so did your view of the world. Everything faded to black as your fire was extinguished, letting you rest in peace as Haechan’s candlelight.

A/N - as always, credit goes to @soleilhyuck​ for coming up with the idea for this fic. thank you for patiently waiting and giving lots of love to this series and please look forward to frat boy!yuta next month as well <3

[dana-sculy]

Vive Ut Vivas - Chapter Two

→ Chapter One

It’s been 84 years since I wrote the first chapter of this story, I know, sorry it took me so long to continue to write it, hope you all enjoy! To read it in AO3 come here :)

tagging @today-in-fic

In this chapter, different from the first one, we'll see the story under Scully's perceptive. It's also a way to better explore her emotions and inner feelings of the situation. Plus, since in season 11 we came to learn more about Skinner's past and how he also had to deal with trauma, I decided to use that background in the conversations between him and Scully.

Prologue

I remember a time when I was only 5 years old. It was an ordinary day of summer, and mom had decided to take her children for a picnic in the park not far away from our house. She had little pots of everything with too much sugar and more packaging than the space-shuttle. Dad had been away on the sea for a long period of time, and even under the naïve perceptions of myself as a kid, it was possible to see how much she missed him. I don’t know if the picnic was an attempt of cheering the mood more for herself or for us. I should’ve been worried, but instead I just gave her my best smile and pulled out the fresh baked baguettes with brie and cranberry.

The air was warm that day, the beams of sunlight glowed on my skin. Melissa liked to sit close to the flowers and inspect them, under the freshly cut green grass. Charlie and Bill would start fighting with each other any time soon; it was sort of their motto. And that was my cue to go get and adventure by myself.

Looking back today, I wonder how could I and Melissa get along so well together. We were opposites in everything: she was the model, girly girl, who loved dresses, flowers, dolls and the piano lessons mom made sure we attended to. I was never that way. I loved dogs, sports and comfortable pants. I would only come inside home when mom called me with that tone of threat, which is the reason to my abundancy of freckles, due to hours and hours under the sun, climbing trees, running and playing around.

I was the tough child, I guess. Mel was the soft, popular one. That hasn’t changed much now that we’re adults. I still don’t go very well with softness; I keep it under tons of labored layers, deep inside.

This was mainly the reason I feared so badly to come here and stay with my sister. She has always had this thing of hers that somehow goes straight into your heart and sees everything. I’m a private, reserved person, and I like keeping my feelings only to myself. But that never really worked with Mel. Let’s say she would be very good at interrogations.

---

After what felt like an eternity, my tears, which eventually turned into little sobs, finally went away. At some point, Melissa’s tightened her hold on me; there wasn’t much else she could do about the whole situation for now. I ran my fingers through her knuckles, and she released me slowly.

“I guess I’ll be going, Mel.” – I feel terrible for leaving her after such an intimate moment, and especially because I know she’ll have a lot of other questions for me now.

“Work stuff you said, right?” – She sounds discouraged, but not mad, at the very least.

“Yes. Skinner had called me in the morning and he’s expecting me at the Bureau. So… I’d better be on my way.” – I rise from the couch and start to collect my things, stuffing them in my purse. It feels weird, not having my badge with me.

I say goodbye to my sister without turning to look back at her. If I did that, she would find her way into convincing me to stay. Even so, I can still feel her eyes burning on me, absorbing each detail, each movement I do. I close the door quietly and follow my way down the stairs of her building.

---

FBI headquarters  - 3:00 p.m.

There is a feeling: it starts when you enter a place you’ve already been a thousand times before, and yet, when you look around, you feel like it’s not the same, even though nothing’s really changed. You try desperately to find out what is different, but the only thing you find is a bitter taste in the back of your mouth, a feeling of intrusion, as if you were the wrong peace of a puzzle, trying to fit in.

I enter through the front door, the big cement columns threatening to smash my tiny figure as I pass them to go through the metal detector machine.

As the elevator doors open, I feel a sense of relief as I notice it’s empty. I am aware that my abduction has made me quite a popular person in the bureau, as if being part of the X Files division hadn’t already granted me that. Mulder talked with me about how a few people, whose existence he’s never known before, had stopped him at the corridor to ask if Mrs. Spooky had been taken by his fellow aliens, or simply to know what really happened to me.

Being a woman in a field that is predominantly occupied by men has taught me that the standards are never equal when it comes to gender difference. I had to work harder than most of my male colleagues at Quantico to stand out, and now as an agent, I feel more than grateful to be Mulder’s partner, because, unlike the others, he treats me like an equal, recognizing my work as an agent without making me feel less capable due to being a woman, and protecting me when it’s needed without making me feel like I couldn’t handle myself.

The problem in that is that it often makes me forget how mean the rest of the bureau can be. I realize I wasn’t that lucky when the elevator doors open again, now in Skinner’s office floor, and I see a very crowded hall ready to swallow me up.

The loud noise of my high heels coming in contact with the floor fill my ears and I feel my body threatening to throw up all the remnants of the cheap lunch I had back at the hospital. I walk silently, looking straight away and trying my best to avoid the curious eyes that follow me. I hear whispers too, but my ears don’t register any words being said. My mind is way too busy fighting to keep me standing and moving forward. Thank God Skinner’s office is not so far from the elevator itself, and I get there quickly enough.

Arlene’s attention is instantly drawn to the creaking door as I open it, increasing considerably as she recognizes my singular figure entering the precinct. She tries her best to be discreet, though. She even gives me a little smile, embarrassed with the whole situation.

“Agent Scully, you can go inside. Mr. Skinner is already waiting for you.” – with that, she returns to typing in her computer.

Skinner is indeed expecting me as I walk to a chair in his conference table. Different from the others, he doesn’t show any sign of curiosity or pity. I feel immensely thankful for that, so I give him a smile. I’m well aware that the evaluation is merely standard procedure, not to mention that it’s just me and Skinner there, but, still, the knot in my stomach doesn’t subside a bit. I guess after all that’s happened, my mind had gotten a little susceptible to Mulder’s paranoia of breaking The X-Files division, and shutting our careers down along with that. Let’s not think about that right now, Dana. I turn the focus of my mind on taking long, deep breaths.

“Agent, Scully, it’s a relief to see you well.” – Skinner is sincere in his words, as he looks straight into my eyes to show me he means it. – “I hope you understand the need of this procedure. You were under a highly stressful situation and that requires a bureau evaluation, to make sure you’re ready to go back to field”.

“Thank you, Sir, I understand. I just want to go back to work as soon as I can.” – And forget this nightmare, I think to myself. For a moment, I wish Mulder could be here. His crack jokes and sassy faces would certainly help lighten the mood.

I remember Mulder with that thought, how he was worried with me coming back so soon, how he couldn’t help himself in hiding his desire to have my company back, despite that. My memory traces the lines of our office: the dusty shells of stuff Mulder makes sure to keep there, his table, his geek poster I came to like with time, the silly green alien key chain he bought me last summer, while lecturing me about how aliens are actually grey. It gives my heart some comfort to remember something so familiar to me.

“Good to hear that, agent. So, let’s begin, shall we?”

Thereby, Skinner starts to present me a series of routine questions, then about standard FBI procedure, and, finally, questions with, I suppose, a more psychological approach. Turns out it’s not that bad, after all. I feel relieved.

After I give my last answer, he pauses, closing his eyes for a bit. He uses the tips of his long fingers to massage his temples, and then takes a deep breath.

“If you allow me, Dana, I’d like to talk to you, off the record.”

I realize I won’t escape personal interrogations today, so I give him a week nod.

“Listen… Your test shows no reason to keep you away from work. That said, I’m letting you know you can return to work any time.”

“I see a ‘but’ coming” – I attempt to make a joke, but he doesn’t alter his serious face.

“Well, yes, indeed. As your boss, I’ll tag along with the evaluation, but as your friend, I’d like to advise you to go home, Dana. You’ll continue to be paid normally even if you take some more time off, and you really should do that. Go be with your family, go rest and give your body and soul time to heal. Trust me, I know the feeling. Your strength is increasing and your body seems better, so it feels like you’re ready to go back to action, but these wounds, Dana, they’re bigger than they look. They can threaten to unsettle your spirit in the most inconvenient of times, and I wouldn’t forgive myself if that caused another risk to your life, or to agent Mulder.”

He was probably right; I knew it in my heart. But how could I tell him that taking time was consuming me, that it was making me mourn over and over again all the things I lost during my abduction? I could no longer rest unless I was under the effect of my sleeping pills, or drowsy due to my strong medication, because when their effect passed away, all I could see in my mind was the same nightmare over and over again. I must've let out something, because when I turned my eyes back to Skinner’s, he had a bigger frown on his face.

“Don’t fight me on this, Dana. You’re the bravest agent I know, but that doesn’t mean you don’t need help.” – He waited for a response, so I opened my mouth in an attempt of an answer.

“Sir, I appreciate your concern, but I really need to work.” – I sigh – “I need something to focus my mind on. I’ll be careful, plus, Mulder will be there to help me.” – I try to give him my best sad-puppy face. It seems to work.

“That’s not the answer I hoped for.” – Now it’s his turn to sigh. – “But I know you well enough to understand that trying to convince you otherwise won’t make any difference.”

“Thank you for understanding that, Sir.” – As I rise from my seat, he speaks once again.

“Agent, as you’re released to come back to work, I want you to be aware that, due to the circumstances of your case, you’ll have to go through periodic psychological counseling. That is not negotiable, agent Scully, but don’t worry, everything you say during session will remain private, these routine sessions are just to make sure you recover from your experience.”

I nod to him and find my way to the door, but he calls my name when I’m about to leave the room.

“Just one more thing, Dana.” – I turn to him. – “As you return, if you feel like you can’t stand a situation, anytime, my offer stands. Promise me you’ll accept help from the ones closer to you.”

From all the times Mulder and I had to count on Skinner’s assistance, I’ve learned to trust him and to believe in the fact that he really cares for us both, but now, from the way he says this words and the look on his face, I feel like this is more than just concern for me. It feels personal, and I’m inclined to conclude that he’s had his amount of trauma too.

“I promise.” – I tell him and leave, there’s a basement I have to go to.

[againstallelse]

The Confessionals of John H. Watson: First Draft

Hello all. Now that the month from hell is being pushed behind me (Don’t ask), I’m back to writing and I bring you The Confessionals of John H. Watson. Written by John after The Reichenbach Fall, it focuses on the question that everyone has asked in one way or another. What is John Watson’s relationship to Sherlock Holmes?

This is a first draft that I do plan on continuing. I’d love any feedback anyone has. A beta reader (or a collection of them) would be very appreciated.

Why I’ve chosen to write this now I’m not entirely sure. It feels far too little, far too late. Just like everything else seems to always be.

This will never even see the light of day. Maybe someday, long after I’m dead, someone will research into the great Sherlock Holmes’ legacy and find it. But my expectations are low. Even though it’s what everyone always wanted to read. The blog post everyone was practically begging for.

I have received one question above all others over the course of the past few years of my life. It’s one I’ve avoided addressing because in all honesty, I still do not have a simple answer.

“What is your relationship to Sherlock Holmes?”

And in a sum of words, I genuinely don’t know.

I have never had a real answer to this question. I got it from the very first day I met Sherlock, seemingly from everywhere. At that point, there was no suitable answer. A stranger? A new friend? An interest? I didn’t know. And I was too afraid to ask him what I was to him.

To me, he was like a light in the darkness. Everything had felt so dull, so painful, so dark. I was entirely alone in the world. I trudged forward every day because I wasn’t sure what else I could do. But then he came. He was enematic. Charismatic. Bright.

He lit up my entire life all at once, thrusting me into a whole new world where I finally felt like I belonged.

He was strange and finicky. A total prat. Early on, I couldn’t tell if he cared if I lived or died. I couldn’t tell if I cared if I lived or died. As long as I didn’t have to return to the darkness, I didn’t care. I felt so empty for so long. I did everything I could to keep things steady between us. Stable.

I couldn’t jeopardize losing the only good thing in my life.

I had known I had an interest in Sherlock from day one. I would have rather ended it all then admit it to a soul. But I knew it was quite obvious to anyone who bothered to throw us a second glance.

However, I didn’t realize how bad I had it for Sherlock until we had been living together for a while. I knew he was gorgeous. I knew that my heart beat faster when he was close enough to touch.

One morning I came downstairs to find him shirtless in our kitchen and found he had made tea for us both, I was overcome with something unfamiliar. I sat beside him as he read and drank his tea, ignoring me for more interesting things.

I stared at him. I studied the curves of his face. His bare chest. His lips as they curled around the edge of his mug. The most dangerous realization settled in my heart.

I wanted to be here, with him, forever. I wanted to be with Sherlock for the rest of my life. I couldn’t imagine spending my mornings with anyone else. I wanted to wake up beside him in the morning and have him be the first thing I saw when I opened my eyes.

I choked a bit and laughed it off, trying to seem casual. His eyes peered up from his book to look at me and I shook my head. He crooked his brows and before going back to his reading.

I got more serious with Sarah, my girlfriend, after that incident. I wasn’t sure what Sherlock’s sexual preference was, but I was fairly certain that it didn’t include me. Or possibly any human being. Which didn’t phase me that much.

Did I want to be sexually involved with Sherlock Holmes? Admittedly, yes. I did. He was on my mind far more often then he should have been, in scenarios he shouldn’t have been involved in. Especially when I was shagging my girlfriend.

But I didn’t mind it if Sherlock never had an interest in me. As long as I got to stay by his side for the rest of my life. That was always the priority. Anything that might scare him away had to be kept at a minimum. So I was careful about staring at him. I avoided touching him in any way at all. I knew he’d see through me and connect the dots if I indulged myself too much, so I was careful.

I still think he might have known.

Sarah figured it out. We went on a trip together, alone, since she kept asking. The whole time I was checking my phone, calling and checking in on Sherlock, talking about him nonstop. One night on our trip she found me up late, scrolling through Sherlock’s boring blog.

She asked, “Do you really love me?”

I put my computer down. She caught me off guard. “Why are you asking that?”

“Because… you don’t look at me the same way you look at Sherlock. I’m not blind John. You could be enjoying your holiday in bed with me. But you’re not. You’re thinking about him.”

Her words burned into my brain. She was right. My god, she was right. She was so kind, letting me keep my privacy. We parted amicably when the trip was over and she wished me the best of luck with Sherlock. She never told a soul, even though the papers would have paid her enough to retire a year down the line if she had.

Why couldn’t I have just loved her?

My life continued with Sherlock. Our cases were interesting, he was vibrant. He had his days, but overall we were very happy those months. That summer was likely the happiest of my life, traveling around with Sherlock, chasing after criminals in the warm summer evenings.

Sometimes I wonder if he had any concept of how romantic that summer was. Sometimes I wonder if it was the best summer of his life too.

Then she came.

The woman.

Everything changed when she came into our lives. She excited Sherlock. In ways I didn’t. Mentally. And seemingly physically, I think. It was such a shock to see Sherlock attracted to anyone in any way. Especially a woman.

It frustrated me. It hurt. After everything we went through, it seemed momentarily like she would come between us and break us apart. It was a whirlwind, one day it was he and I against the world. The next he was composing music for her.

I ran through three girlfriends in three months, trying to distract myself. Trying to distance myself from Sherlock, steal my heart so when I lost him to a dangerous dominatrix it wouldn’t hurt so badly. It didn’t work even remotely. All three of them saw right through me in record time.

When Irene pretended to die, some part of my selfish self was relieved. Maybe things could return to normal. But Sherlock’s reaction… he was totally devastated. It was heartbreaking to watch. He was quiet, reclusive even. His mourning wasn’t loud and external like most people. It probably would have been invisible to most people.

But I wasn’t most people. I was his blogger, his roommate, his best friend. His family. And I saw the way his shoulders hunched and how sad his eyes were in the reflection of the window glass.

When she returned, expecting my help, I had wanted to throw her out the window. She hurt the man who my world revolved around and wanted my help? But then she saw right through me. No matter how I denied that I wasn’t gay, she saw me.

She could see me. She could see my real feelings, probably better than anyone else ever did. I felt raw. Naked. Exposed.

Even once she was really dead, Sherlock and I never truly went back to normal. He looked at me differently. I never identified the look in his eyes our final year together. Sadness? Fear? Pity? He hid his emotions well, very well. But I could still see that hint of something there that felt cold. And it broke me.

I felt like he knew. Maybe she had told him my true feelings. Maybe he pitied me? Maybe he couldn’t see me the same, knowing I had feelings for him? Maybe he was afraid that I couldn’t truly be his friend without my feelings getting in the way?

I’ve driven myself insane with the maybes. I’ve gone over it again and again. It still keeps me up at night. What did those looks mean? I will never know, now.

When everything happened with Moriarty, it shook me to my core. Not the cases, not the insanity of the man who was chasing Sherlock, but how hard Sherlock pushed me to believe he was a liar in the end. I could not, would not ever believe that. I still do not believe that.

Sherlock was magnificent. He was brilliant. And beautiful. He came into my life and hijacked it entirely and it was the best thing to ever happen to me. None of my past experiences nor my future ones will ever compare to the part of my life I shared with him.

I could never have written this down with him still alive. If I had ever acknowledged this much, even to myself in private, he would have known and it would have broken us. But now he’s gone. And I’m left with this.

If I ever had a soulmate on this earth, it was him. I knew on some level from the night we met. More than how alluring he was both mentally and physically, something drew me to him. Something I doubt I will ever feel with another human being. With him, I felt complete in a way I never had before.

And never will again.

God, I can’t continue writing this. What’s my relationship to Sherlock Holmes? I don’t know what I was to him. But he was my soulmate. And now he’s dead.

[dabblinginmarvel]

Love Letters

Request: None, for a challenge. https://thisismysecrethappyplace.tumblr.com/post/182628907067/so-after-receiving-much-support-and-love-when-i

Plot: Loki has been sending you secret love letters and when he goes to confess, someone else claims the credit.

Blog Tag: @thisismysecrethappyplace

A/N: Er, due to potential tendonitis, I wrote over half of this in talk-to-text on Google Docs, then edited by hand.

Warnings: None? Maybe some missed editing spots?

Word Count Total: 2625

Long Imagine #26

Title: Love Letters

Months had passed since the decision had been made. Loki would stay, but that was not without opposition. Thor tried to calm the team, but they were still wary. Space had not been kind to the brothers. But Thor still believed in his brother.

You too are new to the team. You had superpowers, and how your family treated you (your weight and powers) drove you to join the team.

You weren’t used to life with the team. Especially since the brothers had come three weeks before you had. It also did not help that the rest of the team was American and you weren’t. You had to work to keep up with some of their slang and how they used certain words. Also, what the hell was a foot in measurement? Why couldn’t they just use meters?

Tony wanted to throw a party which was odd for these days. After the fight no one was in much of a fighting mood the team had one but there had been a cost. Many lives have been lost despite the destruction of the stones. Part of the reason Tony wanted to throw a party was to get to know you and to remind everyone that they were alive. This was a small party, limited to those who knew the team personally. Maria Hill still thought this was a bad idea, but who was she to override Tony, when he had just saved the world, and the rest of the team was looking for a reason to celebrate rather than mourn. Well, it hadn’t been just him who saved the world, but he had finished off the last stone. That volcano was going to be erupting for centuries, but it was on the other side of the universe on an uninhabited planet, so no one would ever know.

In the midst of preparations for the party, something odd also happened to you. You began to find little cards outside your door. They had little love letters in them, but you didn’t know who sent them. There was no one on the team that you knew of that could be sending you these, so you had a mystery on your hands. You felt like the Scooby gang but at that point you didn’t care.

These letters were very sweet and although written with grammar you didn’t see people normally using, you fell in love with it.

It was time to investigate. But you didn’t know where to start.

“Steve!” you shouted into the hallway. Steve came running.

“What’s wrong?” he shouted back. He knew nothing was really wrong, but he figured he would play along anyway.

“I need your help!” you said. “But I don’t know where to start.”

“What exactly do you need help with?” Steve asked. You held up fifteen love letters.

“I keep getting these," you said. "But I don’t know who they’re from.”

“Well aren’t your investigating skills legendary?” Steve asked as he waltzed toward you.

You rolled your eyes playfully. “Yes but there are no clues,” you replied. “Do you think you can help me determine who it is?”

Steve laughed. “No, I think you should do it yourself. You’ll be surprised what you find.”

ou squinted and put your hands on your hips. “Care to tell me what you’re hiding from me?”

Steve merely shook his head, laughed, then left. He shouted over his shoulder as he left, “Don’t forget, the party is tonight! Tony wouldn’t want you to miss it.”

You growled and rolled your eyes. Tony could kiss your ass and you could care less, but if this had anything to do with your secret admirer, you would be hard-pressed into not going.

You went into your closet and examined the dresses you had. After everything that had transpired, they were scarce. So you had to go into town. You didn’t know who to go with, because you didn’t want to go alone not anymore anyway, since you would be recognized. You couldn’t choose Natasha, because she was already busy with something else. Wanda was too busy caring for vision, and he was due any day to wake up, which was weird because he’s mostly computer and you didn’t know exactly how his Android brain worked. Maybe he was like Data from Star Trek, but you didn’t want to bring it up to neither Wanda nor him, and if you told Tony he would laugh his ass off and start calling him Pinocchio.

You figured everyone else was booked so, despite your misgivings, you decided to go into town alone. On your way to the garage to borrow a company car, you ran into Thor.

He asked where you were going, and you waved a hand, dismissively telling him that you were going into town. You didn’t want to tell him that you were going for a dress, because you were a little embarrassed to tell him you needed a new dress. It wasn’t because he was the god of thunder or anything oh, but you didn’t want him to tell his brother. You didn’t know if Loki was going to laugh, or give you pitying eyes. He was the God of Lies and you did not need him to make fun of you just for his benefit. He had a habit of doing so with everyone else, and while you had not come into his crosshairs, you had a feeling it was only a matter of time.

So far he hadn’t been too terrible to you. Of course the first day ended up with oatmeal on your face, something that you had not yet forgiven him for, because that was to be your only food until lunch, on a busy day in which you were expected to complete a series of four detailed reports on the last mission you and the team had gone on to remove a villain from power. After that however, he was nothing but a perfect gentleman, but you were worried that he would strike again. He was, after all, the God of Lies.

Thor looked at you suspiciously, because he knew you weren’t telling him everything, but you walked past him. You really didn’t want to answer his questions any further.

Unfortunately one minute later, no less, who was to appear by your side with a smirk, but Loki. That blabbermouth Thor, you knew he had it in for you. Well, maybe not in for you, but he sure had an interest in keeping you and Loki within the same proximity. You didn’t know why, but you were determined to find out. Just not today.

“What do you want Loki?” you asked, a frown deepening your features.

Loki smiled all too merrily, his loose black hair framing his face and looking rather nice - especially since he had a regular cleaning routine. “I’m coming with you want a town trip. I need something for tonight, and I have a feeling that you do too.”

“Now what do you know about what I need, Loki?” you asked, stopping in the middle of the hallway.

“Oh, my dear, I know plenty.” His smirk angered you but you didn’t want him to know that. It would only encourage him further. You didn’t need that.

You chuckled. “I highly doubt you know anything about me, about what I need, besides some peace and quiet and a trip into town all by myself.”

“Are you sure that’s what you want?” Loki asked slyly.

“Yes please,” you said with a cheery smile, then sped up your walking. “Now please leave me alone.”

All the while as you walked away, your stomach was fluttering with butterflies as your anxiety crept up on you. Why had you talked to him like that when you knew what he was capable of?

Better yet, why had you spoken to him like that when you had romantic feelings for him?

- - -

Loki stopped in the hallway, crossed his arms, and smirked. You weren’t on to him, yet, and that’s just the way he wanted it. For now, at least.

But then he frowned. Was that really what he wanted? After all, he had been sending you all of those love letters. Did a part of him really want you to not find out? Did he really want to stay anonymous? He wasn’t sure anymore. Maybe he did want you to find out. Maybe that was why he had almost put his name on the last one. But he had decided against it. He had already given you too many clues as to his identity. If you hadn’t figured it out by now, then he was safe. He could go along pining all he wanted. And no one would ever know. After all, since when had he earned the right?

He went to Thor, instead of running after you again.

His brother was struggling to figure out the remote control in the main living space. Loki rolled his eyes at the terrible, clunky clicking coming from the poor device.

“Ah, Loki, how does this thing work?” His forehead wrinkled out of confusion.

“Never mind that mindless Midgardian tool, I need your help.”

“Ah, brother, you must be truly desperate to seek my help,” Thor laughed. Loki scowled at his word choice.

“Unfortunately, you may be right.”

“Then what do you need?”

“I need this to be kept quiet, between us.”

“Go on.”

“It’s about Y/N.”

“Well, what about her?”

“She is all I can think of. I need to know how to really get her attention.”

“What do you know about her?”

“I know her family has bullied her for her weight, she is anxious and depressed, shy, full of wit and sarcasm, and her accent is delightful to listen to.”

Thor laughed. “Brother, she speaks almost like we do.”

Loki shook his head. “Not quite, many words she says are really nice to listen to….”

“Well, then tell her.”

“I don’t want her to worry that I pity her.”

“Why would she worry?”

Loki scoffed. “She hasn’t had a date since we’ve known her.”

Thor laughed. “We haven’t known her that long! If you haven’t noticed, humans don’t go from person to person all that often.”

Loki grumbled to himself.

“Well, why don’t you write her another one of your letters?” Loki’s mouth dropped open to protest, but Thor cut him off. “I know she has been receiving letters and I know you hold feelings for her. There is hardly reason to deny the facts.”

Loki made to leave and Thor spoke once more. “Loki, just leave her one more letter asking her to meet you tonight at the party.”

He hated to admit it, but his brother was right. Without another word to him, Loki went to the room he had been granted and started to write another letter to leave at your door for when you returned.

Loki had decided not to lurk about unseen while you read the note with the door open like always - he decided he would rather find out your answer at the party.

- - -

When you arrived at the party, you were beyond impressed. All the stops had been pulled out for this one, but this was the first Avengers party you had been to, so you had nothing to compare it to. It all just looked magnificent.

You spied Steve from across the room and he toasted his drink to you with a knowing smirk, causing you to grip the heartwarmingly beautiful letter in your hand tighter.

Seemingly as if out of nowhere, Agent Something-or-Other (Brian? Brayden? Brandon? You didn’t know - he was brand new) popped up beside you.

“Looking for your loverboy?”

You stepped back a pace, then frowned. “I’m sorry, what?”

He nodded toward your letter in your hand, still smiling. “You’re looking for me.”

“I am?”

“I would hope so. I’ve been sending you the letters for a while, now. Didn’t you figure it out?”

You chewed on the inside of your cheek, choosing your words carefully. “I must have come to the wrong conclusion.”

“Who did you think I was?”

“I hadn’t finished piecing the puzzle together.”

“I see.”

Unbeknownst to you, Loki glanced in your direction and froze. You held up the letter and frowned between it and the guy. Suddenly, things clicked into place and he stopped pretending to be paying attention to the small chatter between Wanda and Natasha.

Loki clenched and unclenched his fists as he watched the guy take credit for all he had done for you. “Excuse me,” he said. “I have to go make a scene.” With that, he left Wanda and Natasha to go confront you.

When he saw you and the guy chuckling between each other, he noticed there was discomfort in your eyes. Something wasn’t right.

The closer he got, the more he noticed it. You did not like what you were seeing. Obviously, you had been expecting something, or someone, else. Loki sidled up to you, and smiled at the man.

“Is there something I can help you with?” Loki asked, his eyes sparkling dangerously.

The man wasn’t threatened, yet. “Oh, I was just telling your friend that I have been sending them the letters they have been getting.”

“That’s impossible,” purred Loki. “Because I have been sending them.”

You turned to look at Loki, surprise in your eyes. But there was no disappointment.

“Oh, have you?” you asked. “May I speak with you a moment? Excuse us, Brian.”

You guided Loki across the dance floor, away from the crowd, into the hallway.

“Loki,” you said quietly. “Why have you been sending me Anonymous secret admirer letters?”

Loki glanced at the floor, all of the sudden bashful. He didn’t say anything, he just shrugged, his hands behind his back fiddling.

“Loki?” you prodded.

He heaved a deep sigh, then looked over your shoulder and did not meet your eyes. “I was just kind of hoping that you’d… y’know… fall in love with me.”

You open your mouth to speak, but nothing would come out. It was like your brain had emptied itself under the floor, and you couldn’t pick up the pieces and put them in a structured enough sentence to express how you were feeling. Although, you didn’t quite know how you were feeling anyway. You could feel confusion and relief. But you didn’t know what else there was, yet. So, you used your hand to reach out and grab his in a comforting gesture, but he kept his hand behind his back so you only touched his elbow.

“Why didn’t you tell me in the first place?” You asked. Loki just shrugged again. You thought back to the contents of the letters. It was then you realized what had happened. Why he didn’t tell you to your face until now. “Loki,” you said, “I’m not afraid of you. I know that’s one of the things you are afraid of, but I’m not.”

“I did not want to add on to any of your emotional problems by admitting it was me.”

“You wouldn’t have. In fact, it would have been a relief.”

“Why would it have been a relief?” Loki’s brow furrowed.

“Because I feel the same way,” you admitted quietly. “I wouldn’t have been able to tell you because I was too shy. And I could have answered the love letters if I had known who they were coming from in the first place.”

A smile appeared on Loki’s face. “Really?”

You nodded shyly.

“Care to dance, my dear?”

You took his outstretched hand with a smile, and then allowed him to guide you back to the dance floor where you spent the rest of the night, smiles on your face, together.

- - -

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[selenelavellan]

Fake Dating Holiday AU

What it says on the tin. Happy Holidays anon.

Dirthamen and the Evanuris family are based on @feynites works.

“I require a date.”

Selene blinks up from her desk, glasses sliding just slightly down the bridge of her nose as she blinks up at the man standing across from her.

“Um,” she manages. “I don't think...I mean, you used to be my boss. Isn't that against some HR policy, or something?”

“Since your last promotion, you technically work for a corporation that my sister Sylaise is running. Although we still work in the same physical space, I am no longer your direct superior,” Dirthamen explains.

Selene nods, slowly.

“She is already married.” He continues, as though that might illuminate the situation.

“Right...” Selene says, hands finally pulling away from her keyboard to settle in her lap. “I'm just a bit confused about what exactly is happening right now. You said you need a date; do you want me to hook you up with my roommate?”

“Ah,” He says. “No, though I am sure they are very nice as well. I was asking you.”

“You didn't actually ask, though,” Selene mentions, gently as she can.  “And you did use the word 'require', which makes it seem fairly non-optional.”

This time at least, he seems to be the one caught off-guard.

“I apologize,” He says. “It is not a real date.”

She squints.

Leans back in her computer chair, and runs her hand through the curls of her ponytail.

“Ok. I'm sure this conversation makes sense to you right now, but I need some elaboration, Dirthamen, please.”

“My family often has several pressing events to attend during the holiday season. Although we occasionally gather throughout the year, there is substantial weight placed upon our personal growth at these events,” 

He shifts his weight slightly from one foot to the next.  

“Both of my sisters have obtained paramours that they are able to bring each year already, and my mother and father have all but given up on my brother obtaining anyone that might...last, under the weight of his affections,” he evades. 

“At our lunch today, my mother placed substantial emphasis on my own need for a partner, and while in the past I have been able to dismiss such claims, she made it very clear that if I was unable to find a partner for myself, she would find one for me,” He pauses, and glances down at the ground for a moment. “I do not think I would enjoy the partners she might choose. And so, I require a date.”

Selene tilts her head in consideration. “Alright...but you said it's not a 'real' date? What does that mean?”

“Ah, yes. We need only make it appear as though we are involved in a relationship to appease my families inclinations. There would be no pressure on you to actually make any romantic or sexual connection towards me, and we could end the relationship after wintersend has passed.”

“Wouldn't that put you right back in your current predicament in a few months?”

“It is my understanding that when relationships end, there is what is often referred to as a ‘mourning period’. This can last anywhere from a few hours to several years, depending on how great the loss is. That should give my mother adequate time to find some other aspect of my life she is unhappy with that she might focus her attentions on.”

Selene nods again.

It's not...the worst plan she's ever heard of.

She certainly enjoys Dirthamens company enough; they've already been sharing an office floor for several years, and although their conversations are nearly always work-oriented, he seems quite nice. She’s never seen him lose his temper, or become violent in any way. When he becomes stressed he seems to become more tired than anything, and tends to just fall asleep either in his own office or on the couch in the space between their conference rooms.

He's not bad to look at, either.

It would stop Des from trying to set her up for the holidays this year. No more pitying looks when he comes home wrapped in garland and covered in body glitter, trying to ply her into a threeway with the 'great guy' he just met, or dragging her off to one of his friends parties that always devolves into a gropefest.

A holiday off could be just what she needs, really.

“I'll do it,” She agrees.

His face lights up, and she feels herself warm as a smile overtakes her own face in return.

“Thank you,” He says, turning towards their kitchenette. “I will go make a fresh pot of coffee to celebrate.”

“One thing, first,” She says,standing to reach out before he gets too far away. “Why me?”

He blinks, shoulders and chin dropping nearly imperceptibly. His mouth opens, and then closes again, carefully choosing his words.

“When considering who in my life I would be most likely to mourn the loss of,” he finally answers. “Yours was the face I found myself lingering on longest.”

Selene swallows around the sudden dryness of her mouth as her arm falls back to her side and her stomach flips.

“Oh,” she manages. “...Thank you?”

He only bobs his head up and down slightly in acknowledgment. “I will make the coffee.”

–

“You're finally banging your boss,” Des sighs wistfully. “Living the dream. I'm envious, you know. Are you going to get another promotion now?”

Selene shakes her head, tossing the vegetables in the pan at the same time. “I'm not banging him, and he's not my boss. Technically, I work for his sister.”

“So you are getting a promotion?”

Selene shoots Des a look, and flips the vegetables again. “I didn't ask. I'm pretty sure the only way for me to get promoted at this point would be to actually marry someone in the Evanuris blood line anyways. I'm already heading the accounts of several of their shell corporations; Dirthamen heads the rest.”

“You mean the only way to move up in the company would be to marry, oh say for example, Dirthamen Evanuris, your boss whom you are dating and almost certainly soon to bang?” Des grins.

“I'm not going to-”She breaks off, words from earlier repeating in her head.

Yours was the face I found myself lingering on

“...Oh shut up,” She grumbles as she feels her face heat and her heart thump loudly in her chest. Stupid sweet, pretty, brilliant billionaire.

This might be a little more complicated than she planned on.

[thestarshiphope]

Huh? What kind of game do you have planned Ouma?

Which of us shall move first?

Ladies first, as always.

As you wish.

*White Pawn to C4*

You ever think about life like this?

*Black Pawn to G6*

What do you mean?

*White Knight to F3*

I mean, it’s funny. People like us have so many more privileges than commons. We get to exercise all kinds of power they could only dream about.

*Black Knight to F6*

I am aware, though I do not cherish that fact.

*White Knight to C3*

Why not? I would’ve thought someone lifted out of poverty would jump at the chance. You’d finally have all the power and wealth you could ever ask for.

*Black Bishop to G7*

I never cared for the glitterati of the Ultimate Program. I accepted it as a chance to serve the country. 

*White Pawn to D4*

Oh yeah, that’s right. You’re a Utilitarian, aren’t you? It’s all about the needs of the many with you. 

As a Supreme Leader of Evil, I used the chance to build up our arsenal. We have more weapons than some countries now. Maybe a few people got hurt and disappeared, but who cares? They were all to happy to keep me in power over the rest of my family.

Seems we’re on opposite ends. A Utilitarian who believes in one for all and a dictator who believes in all for one.

*Castling: King to G8, Rook to F8*

As if I would believe that story. No such organization could exist and remain unnoticed.

Though you are correct: I do believe in a selfless devotion to all people. That is why I have chosen to serve as a maid. It is not merely a talent or a title, but my decision to serve. To bring happiness to others.

*White pawn to E4*

What kind of a life is that? You’re happy being a slave?

I am not a slave. 

Nishishishi, sorry. I’m just so used to dealing with my organization’s own slaves, it’s hard to tell the difference. 

Seriously though, don’t you ever get tired of dealing with people? If you serve them, they’ll never really appreciate at you, just take you for granted. 

*Black pawn to D5*

I have my limits, yes. I have dealt with my fair share of masters who I am loath to speak of.

However, they do not represent the bulk of my clientele. They were kind to me, asked me for assistance, and I was more than happy to not only serve them, but to help them realize their potential.

I have served both Ultimates and Commons, in positions as high as CEOs and politicians, to those who could only barely afford my services. At times, I even worked for free. I saw that they needed assistance and I was more than willing to provide.

*White Queen to B3*

How very noble of you, Tojo-san. An Ultimate sticking up for those poor unfortunate souls. 

Except, from the sound of it, you’re missing one crucial detail.

That being?

No matter how talented, connected, or powerful you are, you can’t help everyone. As a Utilitarian, you should know that.

*Black pawn to C4. White pawn captured*

Perhaps not. But I shall make the attempt regardless.

*White queen to C4. Black pawn captured*

So you really don’t care about your well-being? What about your needs? Your dreams? Do you really think other people are going to help you achieve them?

Believe me, when the masses are sure they can’t get anything out of people like you anymore, they’ll turn on you.

*Black pawn to C6*

I do not serve for the sake of popularity. I wish to help as many people as I possibly can.

Negative opinions hold no sway over me. It simply motivates me to work harder.

*White pawn to E4*

It does, does it? 

You sure didn’t feel that way when the Prime Minister’s house burned down.

*Black knight to D7*

…how do you even know-

I had my minions do a little digging before I signed up for Project Gofer. I know a loooot about the people on this ship. 

I think you were a perfect fit for Prime Minister! You were so smart and diligent when the people needed you, helped them whenever they needed it…

…and then it all burned down in one night. Tough break.

…

If this is your attempt at throwing me off, it is a painfully shallow one.

*White Rook to D1*

So it doesn’t bother you anymore? All those deaths don’t weigh on your conscience?

*Black Knight to B6*

I have moved past it. While I mourn for theirs deaths in what was an utterly senseless and disgusting waste of life, my priority here and now is the lives of everyone aboard this ship. 

Wallowing in my guilt and self-pity nearly cost them their lives. I will not allow that to happen again.

*White Queen to C5*

I see. I mean, your girlfriend did almost get strangled to death. Nice to know that your sense of morality is most important when it affects you specifically.

*Black Bishop to G4*

And I was able to save her, subdue Shinguji, and the others were rescued. No lives were lost.

It may surprise you, but I do have personal desires. This was one of the occasions where they coincided perfectly with those of everyone else.

More importantly, Kaede has taught me how to embrace my own emotions. It is true I neglected my feelings for too long, to the point where I did not know how to deal with them. She has done more for me than I ever thought possible. Of course I will defend her. I will defend her even if it costs me my own life.

*White bishop to E2*

…

Good for you! I’m happy to know you’re actually a human being and not some emotionless, soulless robot!

*Black Knight to A4*

There is no need for your prejudiced commentary.

So you’re a friend of robots too, huh? Why? Robots aren’t people.

Can a robot write poetry? Paint? Compose a song? Can you do anything besides compute data? No. They’re cold and unfeeling. 

Can you do such things?

…

I thought as much. 

*Castling: King to F1, Rook to E1*

If a machine is capable of independent thought, of creating new ideas, and even of exhibiting romantic attraction, they are a person in my eyes.

I prefer the Cartesian view on intelligence: I think, therefore I am. 

You sure do care a lot about people, don’t you, Tojo-san?

*Black Rook to B8*

Absolutely.

Does it ever hurt?

At times, yes.

It’s easier not to feel, isn’t it? To just be in it for yourself. 

If I wanted an easy life, I would never have become a maid.

*White Queen to E5*

Ain’t that the truth.

Even then, sometimes you get great opportunities just handed to you.

*Black Queen to D4. White Pawn captured*

And I gladly take them should they offer me a necessary step forward.

*White Queen to D4. Black Queen Captured*

Not everything turns out for the best, of course.

*Black Bishop to C8*

Tell me: you claim to be the Supreme Leader of some sort of clandestine organization.

If it does exist, what exactly is the purpose of your group? 

*White Rook to D2*

I’m afraid can’t tell you that, Tojo-san. 

If you ever found out, I’m afraid I’d have to kill you. Not by my own hands, of course. My subordinates would take care of you for me, and it would look just like an accident.

*Black Knight to C3. White Knight Captured*

Considering your reputation as a liar, I remain undaunted.

*White Bishop to C4*

I wouldn’t think like that if I were you. We have members everywhere, all of them closer than you might think.

*Black Knight to D5*

If I can survive assaults from Red Rain and a serial killer, I am certain your organization poses no greater threat. 

*White Bishop to E5*

That might be true. You are pretty physically capable.

But you remember what happened with Hoshi-chan and his family, don’t you?

If you really want to hurt someone, you go after everyone and everything they care about. 

*Black Knight to A2. White pawn captured*

Assuming, of course, that you are a greater power than them. If not, that plan falls to pieces.

*White pawn to D5. Black Knight Captured*

When one of us falls, we strike back even harder.

*Black pawn to D5. White pawn captured*

Then those under threat from you make themselves more prepared. Or perhaps a better strategy…

We strike close to your home as well, as a signal not to mess with us.

*White bishop to G7. Black bishop captured*

So you would be willing to do that? Hit close to your enemy’s home? Go after their families and loved ones just like they did to you?

*Black Bishop to E6*

If that is what it would come down to, as a way to put an end to the threat…

So be it.

*White Bishop to A2. Black Knight captured*

Alright, then let me ask you this…

What if it turns out the ones you’re trying to defend aren’t who they say they are?

*Black Rook to C8*

If they are truly a part of my adversary? 

*White Bishop to B3*

Not exactly. What I mean is, what if it turns out the person that you’re so sure that they are…is just one big lie?

They claimed to be a good friend, supported you, got as close to you as they could.

*Black Rook to C4*

*White Bishop to C4. Black Rook Captured*

But it was all just one ploy. You were never more than a means to an end for them. Once they get what they need, they stab you in the back.

*Black pawn to C4. White Bishop captured*

You have a very negative view on other people. I can assure you that the people I have spent the last few months with on this ship are nothing of that sort.

*White pawn to G3*

As a Supreme Leader, it’s obvious my sense of morality would be different from the norm. 

And can you really say that so confidently? I mean, didn’t Momota-chan pretend to not be sick just so he could explore that planet? He almost got himself, Saihara-chan and Akamatsu-chan killed.

And Shinguji-chan had been lying since even before Project Gofer started back on Earth. A serial killer with almost 100 victims pretending to be a friendly anthropologist.

How are you so sure that the others don’t have their secrets? Hell, you guys have been speculating about who among us might be a Red Rain member.

I am starting to believe that was merely paranoia at work.

And that’s when it happens. You get comfortable with the people you’re close to, just like they want you to. You open up to them, let them see you for who you really are, pretending they’re doing the same…

And when you open your heart to them, they’ve got you.

*Black bishop to H3. Check*

And how am I certain you are not merely lying about all of this?

Perhaps there is some truth in your words, but I am more than certain you are trying to incite distrust among us.

*White King to G1*

It’s not like that, I swear.

I’m just…scared, y’know? You’re one of the only people around here I feel like I can open my heart to. What if there’s really a Red Rain member here? You saw what they do to people like us.

*Black pawn to F6*

Your concerns are not entirely baseless I admit, but pointing fingers and accusing the others of lying will not do us any good. 

*White bishop to H6*

But we gotta do something to protect ourselves.

*Black rook to E8*

Yes, and that means building trust between us. Ensuring that we work together through any crisis we may face out here.

You can be certain of one thing: driving others away, accusing them of lying and manipulating, all of that will ultimately leave you alone and defenseless. None will stand beside you.

*White queen to C4. Black pawn taken. Check*

Do you love Akamatsu-chan?

*Black king to H8*

Of course I do.

I advise you not make any suggestions that she intends to betray me or anyone else here. 

Such accusations will not turn out well for you.

*White rook to E3*

You said you’d be willing to die for her. She really inspires that much love and devotion out of you?

*Black pawn to G5*

Beyond a shadow of a doubt.

*White queen to E4*

Funny how she kinda does that with everyone, huh?

She’s always been that big inspirational leader whenever we needed one. She’s kept this mission going while most of us were still asleep. It’s like she’s nothing but sunshine and optimism.

*Black pawn to E6*

But nobody’s right 100% of the time. 

Of course not. She has made mistakes, as we all have.

But on the whole, I doubt we would be anywhere near this organized if we did not have her around.

I do not even wish to contemplate what such a situation would be like.

Yeah, no kidding…

With her, I have no doubt that we will all stand together as a team, and we shall find the truth.

*White pawn to F4*

You can talk about friendship and cooperation all you want, but what happens if there’s some kind of schism? What if things break down or someone goes murder-happy again? Hell, what if this whole ship descends into civil war?

*Black rook to D4. White Knight captured*

I cannot see it happening, but in the unlikely even that it does, then we act to resolve the situation by whatever means necessary. We do not allow any loss of life to occur, no matter the circumstances. I stand by what I said: even if my efforts prove futile, I will persist to the very end.

*White Queen to C2*

You can’t seriously expect all of us to make it off this ship alive if that happens, can you?

*Black rook to F4. White pawn captured*

Ouma-san, I understand where you are coming from, we have escaped such situations in the past.

It seems as though we have a habit of escaping situations that would have otherwise killed us. 

As Kaede likes to say, there is nothing we cannot accomplish if we work together. Victory shall always be within our reach. And speaking of victory…

*White queen to C8. Checkmate*

Wh- 

Wow. Great work, Tojo-san, I’m impressed!

Was this request merely an excuse to have this conversation with me?

Mostly, but I also wanted to have some fun. And I got to learn a lot about you too!

Of course, there’s only so much you can learn in chess. 

Anyway, I’m going back to my room. Thanks for the game! See ya later!

*He leaves*

I wonder what his true intentions with this were…

In any event, I need to get back to my duties.

[kasia-landers]

Novaer, randír nín - Farewell, my Ranger

Rating: Teen  Fandom: Shadow of Mordor/War, Lord of the Ring, Silmarillion  Pairing:  Nazgûl Talion / Celebrimbor (if you squint)  Summery: Celebrimbor learns of Talion's fate after leaving him to die. A/N: So @p-joart wrote her own story way before I wrote this, but I was inspired by the art she had posted along side her fic, A Reversal of the Wicked. If you haven't read it yet, you should! But I started writing this at some point while she was still working on the art and after some digging through my computer, I found it and decided to post it. She had asked if I could make it longer, but I had no idea really how, which is why it was just sitting on my hard drive forever. Its lightly edited, so there may be some mistakes, but at any rate, enjoy! Beta: None.  Word Count: 2,236

Cross posted to Ao3

What a familiar scene this is,’ Sauron purred whilst placing a hand under Celebrimbor’s chin. Forcing him to look up into those golden eyes which had haunted him for countless years. The Elf made no struggle against his bonds; arms spread wide and hanging from an unseen wall while his thighs rested upon what felt like cold stone despite the fact that there was nothing he could see that resembled either.

The void which they had been banished to was both curious and terrifying. It had allowed for him to be in possession of his body again, but that was also allowed for Celebrimbor to be in the precarious position that he was in, for Sauron too was allotted a physical form and he seemed to favour wearing the familiar guise of Annatar.

‘Why do you look so displeased, Tyelpe?” the Maia mocked, and his form loomed over him, ‘I thought you had treasured the time we spent together?’

‘Why have you not already returned to your master?’ was what Celebrimbor had wanted to question. But he knew that the answer was that Sauron enjoyed his torment and would allow himself the pleasure for as long as he was able.

‘Pity,’ he thought to himself, for he wished deeply the Maia would let him go already.

Another smirk graced the deceitful, but fair face Sauron wore, and as soon as his chin was released, Celebrimbor’s eyes fell, and he stared at the blackness under his knees.

‘There is no need for that face, especially after I have gone through so much trouble to bring you one last gift.’

‘I want none of it,’ Celebrimbor meant for the words to carry more weight, but they were broken and stuck in his parched throat. The thought of what Sauron’s words could possibly entail made his eyes water and his heart pound against his chest.

‘I want none of it,’ he repeated, but the sound of his voice was softer still and his head hung even lower whilst Sauron chuckled at his defeat.

‘But I do so think you would adore this one,’ began Sauron and the sound of his voice caused a shiver to run down the Elf’s spine.

‘It was something very dear to you at one point. I must say, I am surprised you left it there. Broken and laying about on the dirty ground. So careless. So unlike you, Tyelpe.’ Sauron wagged a finger at him, as though he were scolding a child for being so thoughtless with a toy.

‘Do not call me that!’ cried Celebrimbor, shouting as loudly as he could manage. Never wanting to hear that nickname ever again and particularly from Sauron. But the Maia chuckled darkly, watching as Celebrimbor realised what exactly he was speaking of. The Elf struggled more against his bonds than he had previously with the remaining vigour he possessed.

‘He could not have meant that,’ Celebrimbor thought, and prayed that this was another trick so that he would squirm some more under Sauron’s gaze.

‘Yes, you know of whom I speak. The Ranger – Oh, what was his name – Ah, yes, Talion. I’m surprised you left him there. But fear not! I have repaired him for you,’ Sauron’s words were poison, making him uneasy with the sickly-sweet tone used. Celebrimbor’s heart pounded against his ribs although it felt to be in the pit of his stomach.

Raising his head, Celebrimbor watched as the shadow of Talion appeared into eyesight and he knew there was no mistake. That silhouette: he could never forget it. But once Talion came into view, tears began flowing from his eyes unbidden as he observed the changed wrought upon the Ranger. His skin was now ashy and grey and dark veins could be seen clearly, particularly under his eyes which now held the same murderous orange glow as Sauron. The armour Talion wore was not familiar to Celebrimbor, instead of the normal leathers bearing the Tree of Gondor, Talion now wore metals that were sharp and cruel. Crafted for sure in the depths of Minas Morgul and of similar make to what the Nazgûl wore. The fact that Talion was still in possession of his body, at least for now, made his appearance more terrifying than if he had been faceless like the rest of the Ringwraiths.

‘Talion,’ weakly he called to the Ranger, watching as his dark but colourless lips turned down in a frown, ‘What has become of you?’

Talion smirked, and it promised pain, ‘What has become of me, you ask?’ his words were bitter and chilled Celebrimbor to the bone, ‘I dare think you know the answer to your own question. Considering it was you who left me to die.’

His words bit deep, for they were not untrue, and Celebrimbor had found in the long years of his life that the truth often was more agonising than sweet lies and he had come to wish that he could have remained in the comfort of them.

‘I am sorry,’ he murmured to the Wraith before him, admitting to himself that a Wraith was exactly what Talion had become. The irony was cruel, knowing that their positions had been flipped: for here was Celebrimbor with what seemed to be a living body while Talion, his previous host, was now the one faded, damaged and losing himself to the dark whispers of the dark.

‘It is a bit too late for apologises, Celebrimbor,’ sneered Talion whilst he moved in a way that reminding the Elf of a great predator who stalked its prey and looked for the opportune moment to deliver the killing blow. Talion moved passed Sauron and the Dark Lord grinned in horrific glee.

‘It appears,’ the Maia mocked while stepping away from the pair of them, ‘That you two have some unfinished business that needs be resolved. I take my leave for the time being and shall return to see the results of your discussion, Tyelpe,’ and upon finishing his words, Sauron faded into the blackness and appeared to be gone – but Celebrimbor still felt the familiar sense of dread that the Dark Lord emitted and suspected that he would watch with joy.

Talion continued to stalk the Elf silently, circling around him like a hawk, causing Celebrimbor to become visually more upset as he was forced to comprehend the consequences of his betrayal to the man who had continued to help him even after avenging his own family. Denying death for him and lingering in the world longer than any mortal man should ever.

After the Ring they had crafted was cut from Eltariel’s hand (and in turn Celebrimbor’s spectral one) the Elf had realised his folly in leaving Talion. At first it was simply that he would have been able to take victory over Sauron if he had stayed with the Ranger. However, the remains of his heart that had not been corrupted Celebrimbor had come to realise in his struggles against Sauron that he had betrayed the one person he could have called ‘friend’ since Narvi had passed.

‘I am sorry,’ he repeated again, though this time it seemed like the words had angered Talion and his patience snapped in two as the Ringwraith tangled his fingers in the Elf’s matted long black hair, pulling roughly at his scalp to bring Celebrimbor’s eyes to meet his. His scalp stung, and he winced at the cold stare of those gloomy eyes: hard and cold and drowned in hatred as they bore into his skull as if trying to kill him with his gaze alone.

‘Did I not say it was too late for such useless words!’ Talion hissed and clutched at the hair even harder and pulling his head back even further. The motion strained Celebrimbor’s neck and he shifted his weight from his thighs in an attempt to keep Talion from snapping his neck clean off. His shoulders burned in protest and he silently wished that the Wraith would break his neck so that this would end quickly.

But no such fortune was allotted to him as Talion continued the mocking where Sauron had left off, ‘Where is that biting sarcasm you favoured now?’ he ran a finger down the smooth skin of Celebrimbor’s check. The touch was deathly cold even in the nothingness around them.

‘Where now is the confident Bright Lord? Where is he who was relentless in his endeavours to conquer Mordor? Where is the one who charged head first into the fields without a care for his own self?’ he spat the word Bright Lord as if it left a putrid flavour in his mouth.

‘How strange it is to see you so silent – in such a compromising position – without scathing retorts. Have you given up already?’ Talion asked as Celebrimbor said nothing and did naught but stare at him with mournful eyes.

‘Giving up suits you,’ snickered Talion as he watched the Elf’s eyes slowly shut in defeat, ‘especially in comparison to the confident façade you so enjoy wearing,’ the Wraith the released his hair and Celebrimbor fell back onto his thighs whilst his neck burned.

‘Had I known sooner, I would have made more effort to track you down.’

‘Talion,’ Celebrimbor called the Ranger’s name, though he was unsure of what he wanted to say. Not that it had mattered, Talion had struck him with an open hand, splitting his lip. Celebrimbor spat out the blood that had collected in his mouth and his stomach churned and the remaining taste of the metallic liquid while his vision blurred, and his ears rang.

‘Do not call me that!’ the Wraith repeated what Celebrimbor had said to Sauron, clearly having heard it, and clearly finding it amusing to use those words against him in this situation. Celebrimbor wished that his ears had been ringing more so that he could have missed the comment.

Avoiding Talion’s gaze, Celebrimbor hung his head as low as was possible. His entire posture showed that he had given up hope as he sat heavily on his thighs with his back curved in a defeated bow. Had his hands not been bound and holding him upright, Celebrimbor would have been on the ground, clutching at Talion’s legs as he begged to be put out of his misery.

‘Oh Tyelpe,’ the Wraith’s voice sounded amused as he used the awful nickname, wrapping his fingers around the Elf’s throat and cutting off his air. Not enough so to kill him, much to his disappointment, but only enough to keep his vision hazy.

He wanted to die here and as soon as he was able. Assuming that he was able in the Void. Celebrimbor had the creeping suspicion that he would just wake once more and be subjected to more torture. Whether it was by the hand of Sauron or Talion, Celebrimbor was unsure of who would be worse.

He concluded that Talion’s wrath was worse for he had brought this torment upon himself in breaking the man. It was all his fault, Celebrimbor concluded, and so he deserved whatever the Wraith did to him. Talion never deserved anything Celebrimbor had done to him and the Elf wished that he had realised this sooner so that he could have spared them both this grief.

Another sneer ran along Talion’s face as it he knew what Celebrimbor had been thinking, ‘Sauron is the least of your worries. The only reason you are here and alive is because I requested it.’ he said at length before crashing his lips against the Elf’s. Their teeth had crashed and clicked together painfully, and Celebrimbor winced. Talion did not seem bothered in the slightest as he bit down on his already damaged lip and causing further harm. Celebrimbor whimpered in terror filled agony as the blood ran down his chin and into the curve of his neck. Feeling Talion’s tongue lick the dripping blood and smearing it around his face with a pleased hum.

Celebrimbor wanted to ask, ‘why?’ once Talion had pulled back, but the words were caught in his throat. Instead, he stared at the Ranger blankly.

‘I had thought of this,’ Talion started, running a large finger under the Elf’s eyes and wiping away the tears that had gathered there. The motion had confused and frightened Celebrimbor, but as he stared at the Wraith, he noticed that he resembled more the man he had once known for Talion’s face had soften considerably. He saw again, the man that was once the Ranger – though he was hidden behind ashen skin and glowing eyes.

Celebrimbor wondered if this was the last he would be seeing of this proud man of Gondor.

‘His Ranger,’ he had never wanted to admit those words, even in his thoughts, but yet he had always dared to hope.

‘I had hoped – at one time,’ Talion continued again, and Celebrimbor became worried that he really could see his thoughts like he had been able to previously when they shared Talion’s body. Celebrimbor wondered if the bond was intact still. He wished Talion would continue speaking so that he could learn whether this was true of not. But Talion did not continue and his face slowly twisted back into the scowl that he had been previously wearing.

‘It doesn’t matter now. The past is the past. And the past is dead.’

Those words cut even deeper than his teeth ever could.

[btsjfans]

Love Me

Summary: After breaking off your 4 year romance as you make your way onto your 3rd year of college, you don’t expect to fall back in love’s grip so soon...

Namjoon x Reader, fluff, lil angst, maybe a lil smut later on

masterlist

“Oh god, oh god, oh god, Y/n I swear it’s not what it looked like it was a one time thing I’m sorry Y/n please!” Jenny, your now-former best friend cried out from behind you as you slammed the door shut, running out of the house party.

“Y/n come back!” Wonho ran out of the house, grabbing your arm. His shirt was hastily re-buttoned, and his hair was messy and wild. A pitiful attempt to act like nothing happened.

“Get off of me you..you..you bastard!” You snarled and pulled your arm away. “You cheated on me, at my own surprise party, with my best friend, and the most you do is, ‘Y/n, come back’?! You disgust me! You’re a selfish pig! You’re..you..I hate you!” You whip your hand across his cheek, landing a stinging slap.

“I..” He winces from the slap, looking at you intently, although he knows it’s a lost cause. “You really won’t take me back will you?” 

“Don’t count on it.” You tear yourself from his presence, wanting nothing more than to hide in his arms and pretend it didn’t happen, but you know you can’t. No kiss with him could ever be the same, knowing that those lips touched Jennie’s. 

You jog home, tears staining your cheeks as you push into your apartment complex, running up the stairs, bumping into people as you pass, trying to keep your head down. You make your way to your door, sniffling and wiping tears, briskly tearing through your purse trying to find the keys that evidently weren’t there. They must be in Jennie’s bag. 

You let out a quiet sob, leaning your head on the door, closing your eyes and wondering what you did to make your life go so, so wrong. 

“Hey..Y/n?” A deep voice from behind startles you from your mourning. You sniffle and look up, knowing there’s no point in pretending you weren’t crying. Behind you stood Kim Namjoon. He had been in various classes with you throughout college, and you two had worked together on a couple projects. He had never been a close friend, but he was a friend nonetheless. “What’s wrong? Are you okay? Locked out?” His voice was soft and comforting, and he reached out to you. His soft, large hands found their place on your body: one on your lower back, and one on your arm. His dark eyes bore into your own, caring and deep. 

“Locked out,” You confirmed, nodding and sniffling, not wanting to talk about the other thing. 

“Well, my roommate is out of town for a little while, if you want someplace to stay for the night,” He smiled a little, brushing hair from your face. 

“That would be nice,” You smile a little back. He gently guides you down the hall towards his room, keeping a soft hand on your back as you walk. He makes small talk with you as you two make your way down the halls. Although you don’t pay much attention to his words, you find comfort in them. His voice has a deep, melodic tone, and there’s just something indescribably calming about just his mere presence. He lets go of you long enough to unlock his door, gently nudging you in. You take a look around the place as you enter; it’s extremely tidy with  a very mature style. Everything looks incredibly modern, despite having been purchased on a college student’s budget. It smells like Namjoon, with an overlying hint of cologne in the air. Surprisingly, it feels as though you’d been there a thousand times. It feels like home. “Namjoon, do you have a restroom?” You ask, breaking yourself from your observing. 

“Oh yes of course, right down the hall.” He smiles, pointing in the direction of the bathroom. You excuse yourself and quietly close the door behind you, looking at your reflection. Dark bags decorate your face under your eyes, and streaks of makeup paint your cheeks. You look haggard. But how could you not? Your boyfriend of 4 years just cheated on you with your best friend of 16 years. As of right now, it feels as if Namjoon is all you have, and yet you’ve barely spoken to him this night. You wash your face off and take a shaky breath, gripping the edges of the sink, steadying yourself. 

You soon step out into the living room once again, greeted by Namjoon who holds out a large t-shirt, presumably his, as well as some large basketball shorts. “I um know this might not be ideal, and you don’t have to take it, but changing out of clothes after a bad day often helps I find.” He smiles at you, his dimple teasing his cheek, somehow making your heart twinge even at a time like this. Honestly, you were touched by all this man was doing for you. For however limited your encounters with him were, he still was readily here for you, providing you with anything you could need and more. 

“Thank you Namjoon, I...thank you.” You smile, gingerly taking the clothes from his hands as he gently guides you down the same hall to a bedroom. This one must be his room mate’s. It was fairly simple, a bed, desk with a computer, a closet, and a bean bag. 

“This is where you can stay for the time being. My roommate, Taehyung, is away on a study abroad for the rest of the semester.” Namjoon smiles leaning on the doorway as you step in, setting the clothes down. 

“Is it okay if I use this?” you gesture to a wall charger and hold up your now dead cellphone. 

“Y/n, you don’t need to ask for anything here. My house is your house.” 

You take a quick shower, letting out a few more tears as you go, and change into Namjoon’s clothes. They hang on you several sizes too large, but surround you with a comforting smell, and a soft touch. Your phone has continually blown up with messages, primarily from Jennie, and a few from Wonho. Word of your “birthday surprise” had reached all of the party-goers, who all felt the need to text you the same, “So sorry about what happened!! I love you and I’m here for you :))))” text. You groan inwardly and slide your phone to do not disturb, and flop onto the bed staring at the ceiling. 

Where had you gone wrong?

About an hour had passed, and you were still laying on the bed staring at he ceiling, bedroom door open and lamps still on. It was nice, this feeling of peace and isolation in his house. As you lay and ponder upon your current state of affairs, you hear Namjoon’s footsteps approach. You sit up, smiling at your gracious host, who stands in the door way smiling back at you. 

“What’re you still doing up? It’s half past 12.” He leans on the door frame. 

“Just thinking. And you?” You look him over thoughtfully. He was an awfully attractive man. Tall, well built, messy light brown hair, dark eyes, and a gentle, warm smile. It was a shock to many that he was still single. In fact, throughout your 3 years here, you’d never known him to have a girlfriend. 

“The same. Mind some company?” He gazes at you with an unreadable fire in his eyes. 

“Of course.” You slide over and lean against the bed frame, patting the spot next to you. He walks over, sighing as he seats himself next to you. 

“Tell me everything.”

One hour passed, and then two. Once you had told him about tonight’s events, last night’s events, and all events forward came out. The grimy details of your relationship with Wonho, the snake-like plights of Jennie, the things you had put up with for their sake. Once you had finished, it was his turn. His story was quite different than yours. The girl he loved never noticed him, and lived an apparently socially tumultuous life. He had filled his life with misadventures with his friends, Taehyung, Jungkook, Jimin, Hoseok, Seokjin, and Yoongi. His life was relatively happy, he eased through school and life. His only plight was his unnamed lost love, while yours was filled with betrayal and strife. 

The two of you stayed up until at 4 at least, lost in the conversation. Your words drifted from your own lives, to the seemingly changing meaning of life. You lost track of when you had fallen asleep, but you knew it had been after 4, and before 6. 

You’d woken up around 8, with your head on his shoulder, his arm loosely around your waist, and his head leaning against yours. You felt safer and happier being here with him than you had with anyone for a long time in all honesty. You smiled a little as you heard him snore softly next to you, and you gently tugged a loose blanket over the two of you. You both were happy, so there was no harm in sleeping in, you thought, as you closed your eyes and drifted back into sleep’s sweet grace.

You re-awoke about an hour and a half later to Namjoon clumsily puling himself from the bad, obviously trying not to wake you, but failing miserably as he rose from the bed. You grinned a little as you watched him cringe at his mistakes. 

“Remind me not to rob a bank with you,” You chuckle as you wipe sleep from your eyes. 

“Ah shit, I was hoping I could let you sleep a little more.” He apologetically rubs the back of his neck, watching you fondly.

“Don’t blame yourself, I was already waking up anyway.” You rise from the bed, refolding the blanket. “Wanna go grab some breakfast?” 

You pull on your jeans from the night before, leaving on his shirt and pulling your hair up loosely. The two of you hit a cafe, and spend the next few hours drinking coffee, eating breakfast, and talking. The conversation between you two never dies, and keeps the both of you thoughtfully engaged, and laughing all the while. You two take a walk around campus, talking and giggling as you go. 

“Ugh, I really don’t want to go back to living with Jennie,” You sigh as you two make your way back.

“Well, uh if this isn't too rushed, you could move in with Taehyung and I. He loves new people, and we have that one spare room still. Just an option if you don’t want to go back.” He shrugs, nodding to people who pass you on the stairs. 

“Oh Joon, I would love that!!” You grin and pull him into a hug, feeling him tense for a moment before relaxing into your touch. 

“Now there is one condition,” He says as he pulls away. 

“Which is?” 

“You need to talk to Jennie about what happened. You can’t just move out, you need to face this and move on.” He gives you a very knowing look.

You sigh knowing he’s right and nod. “I’ll be back to the apartment by 3 at the latest. Okay?” He nods and gives you a quick pat before walking to the apartment. You hesitantly approach your door, sighing before knocking.

A spent Jennie answers the door, looking worse than you had last night. Tears and dark makeup stained her puffy cheeks, and her hair was unbrushed. She was still in last nights clothing.

“Oh Y/n!” She exclaims, pulling you into her arms. She still has the smell of Wonho on her clothes, and you push her off. 

“Look, I’m not here to be buddy-buddy with you again, I’m here to talk about what happened.” You close the door and kick off your shoes, walking through the apartment. This place had been your home for 2 years, after living in the on-campus dorms for one year. You two had built your home here, all excited to taste the real world. You two had been best friends for 16 years, and it honestly broke your heart you would lose this. But it needed to happen.

You take a seat in the living room, eying up what you’ll be taking when you move out. 

“I...oh Y/n,” Jennie falls to the couch, burying her head in her hands. “I..I don’t have an excuse. Wonho and I were both drunk and..and needy I suppose. I never was attracted to him before hand, or even after so I honestly..I just can’t explain myself. And, oh god, Y/n I can’t believe I screwed this all up oh my god,” Jennie bursts into tears, heaving as she sobs. “You’re my best friend Y/n, and I know you hate me now, fuck, I even hate me now, but you’ll never stop being my best friend. I just, I just..I’m so sorry,” She lets out a shaky breath, wiping tears from her face. You feel a stirring inside at the sight. This was Jennie. Your best friend since you were 5. She was supposed to be your best friend forever, but could you really forgive her for this? “Jennie...I need time right now. You..you both hurt me, and hey, maybe once I get over this we can be friends again, but I just can’t right now okay? I..I’m moving out as well. Maybe I’ll move back someday, but for now, I just can’t be here anymore.” You get up, hesitating as you pass her to pat her or something, but you continue on down the hall, her quiet crying getting softer as you close the door to your room.

It takes you 2 hours to pack all your things and carry them to Joon’s, and another 45 minutes to carry some of the bigger stuff. By the time you leave Jennie’s, it’s half empty. Half the furnishings, half the pots and pans and plates and utensils, half the toiletries, half the decor, all gone. Namjoon helps you arrange the room, decorating it with care. You two laugh as you put your new stuff away, telling stories and chatting as you work. By 9pm, you’re entirely moved in. 

Your room is nice, albeit simple. You just have your bed frame and bed, adorned with your simple comforter and pillows, a desk dressed up with little shelves and containers, and a vanity. “I’m not used to having such bare walls.” You muse, looking over the white walls in the amber light of your lamps. 

“Well, then it’s our job to take you on loads of adventures so you can decorate your walls with your new life. For now we can get you some fairy lights or whatever Pinterest decor you want. This is your new home Y/n, and dammit you’re gonna love it.”

You two move out to the living room, watching TV in silence as you enjoy each other’s company. As you lay down to sleep that night, you smile relishing your freedom. This is your new life. And it smells a lot like Kim Namjoon. 

[eedwritingportfolio-blog]

Personal Choice 1

Play

Shakespeare’s Encore

ACT I

SCENE I

The six characters sit in separate, plastic chairs. The room resembles a doctor’s office waiting room. Inexpensive, tacky paintings are placed haphazardly on the peeling walls. ROMEO and JULIET sit close together, whispering lovingly and exchanging kisses. HAMLET sits with his head in his hands between his knees. REGAN sits cross-legged, a compact mirror in her hand as she dabs at her makeup. DESDEMONA sits quietly, staring anxiously at the hideous paintings, avoiding all eye contact. KING LEAR is asleep. A receptionist sits at a desk nearby, typing on her computer. There is no change in their actions for a minute. Then, a bell rings and POLONIUS appears from the back door.

POLONIUS: I really think you should reconsider, my good sir, I promise I can-

RECEPTIONIST: You know the rules. Leave.

POLONIUS: I just think if he would reconsider- I mean- I know I’m good for the part. I could easily-

RECEPTIONIST: Enough.

Polonious stops, his mouth open. He rolls his eyes and turns towards the audience, grumbling. Words like “sell-out” and “he probably doesn’t even write his own plays” can be heard between mumbles. Regan stands up, her mirror back in her purse.

REGAN: How did it go? Did you get the part?

POLONIUS: No, I did not get the part. APPARENTLY I’m not ‘worthy’ of the part.

REGAN: (smirks) Figures.

POLONIUS: What is that supposed to mean?

REGAN: He must be waiting for me. Obviously no one is as deserving as I am.

JULIET: (starts laughing) Yeah, okay.

REGAN: What did you say, Suicide-Girl?

ROMEO: Don’t speak to her that way!

REGAN: Oh my apologies to the happy couple. Unlike you two lovesick puppy dogs, my life was worth something. And I died always staying true to that.

JULIET: Oh yes, because staying true to the love of your life and your love for money is soooooo the same thing.

REGAN: Not for money, Psycho Sister. For power. There’s a difference.

JULIET: Enlighten me.

REGAN: When my father, that lazy sack of potatoes over there, came to my two sisters and I with the promise of money, I was quick to tell him what he wanted to hear. It wasn’t my fault that it came with strings attached. Next thing I know, my sister is trying to steal MY man. And yeah, along the way I may have gouged an eye out or two, but Edmund was mine and Gonoril needed to know it. So I died trying to gain complete control over all that my sister tried to take from me.

JULIET: You died for greed; we died for love.

REGAN: You call that love?

JULIET: Our families didn’t want us to be together. I was betrothed to a man I did not love and I knew that I would lose the love of my life if I didn’t act on it quickly. I devised a plan so we could escape and live together without our families’ knowledge; however, due to-er-miscommunication, Romeo was misled to his death. It was an act of passion, really. And so I stabbed myself. All for him. (Smiles up at him and flutters her eyelashes flirtatiously).

ROMEO: And I would do it all over again for you. (They kiss).

REGAN: Ugh, please. I’m sure Anxiety-Girl over there has a better story than that.

DESDEMONA: Who, me?

REGAN: What are you? An owl?

DESDEMONA: No I-I died for…for nothing. She looks at the ground, a frown appearing on her face.

HAMLET: I’m-I’m sure that’s not true.  He moves to a seat closer to her. You seem like a gr-gr-great person.

DESDEMONA: Thank you. It was awful, really. I guess you could say I died for love. Or really, love killed me.

HAMLET: How so?

DESDEMONA: I was in love with a man.

HAMLET: Did he not love you?

DESDEMONA: He did. I mean he did at first, then one day he just accused me of being something I most certainly was not. I was always faithful to him.

HAMLET: Why didn’t you tell him?

DESDEMONA: I tried to but I just never knew what to say so in the end I just let it happen.

HAMLET: Let what happen?

DESDEMONA: I let him kill me.

HAMLET: I-I’m so sorry. That sounds awful.

DESDEMONA: Thank you. If you don’t mind me asking, what happened to you?

HAMLET: One night a phantom came to me. It was my father. He told me of my destiny; I had to kill my uncle for revenge so that his spirit could finally rest. It seemed so simple to me; however, I found I was so lost in the planning, in the decision making, that when I finally seized the moment; it was the wrong man.

DESDEMONA: What did you do?

HAMLET: I took so long thinking about what to do and not doing it that I ended up giving my enemies just enough time to figure out my plan and concoct one to kill me as well. I was murdered by my uncle and his pawn.

DESDEMONA: Oh!

REGAN: Alright, enough with the pity party. If this heart-to-heart has told me anything, it’s that you losers have a LOT to learn. And definitely will not get the part in this new play.

They all begin to yell at once. Words like “love”, “I’m the star”, and “die” are heard. KING LEAR begins to stir, then awakens with a start. He looks at the screaming characters in horror. Then clears his throat.

KING LEAR: Enough! What is this foolishness? The characters fall silent. REGAN rolls her eyes.

REGAN: Oh, great, now we’re waking up the dead.

KING LEAR: Very funny, daughter. Now what was this ruckus all about?

REGAN: We’re trading death stories, Daddy-o. Wanna turn?

KING LEAR: Ah, well in that case, you’re all in for a treat. All my life, I believed that I Had raised three beautiful, devoted daughters. So when two of them were willing to proclaim their undying love for me but the other refused, I was quick to banish her. But that was my mistake. I couldn’t see clearly enough to realize that the one who refused to speak was the one most devoted of all. I gave my fortune to my other daughters who in turn used it against me—leaving me out in a storm and leading me into psychosis. But I didn’t lose it completely until I saw Cordelia- my only faithful daughter-dead. The grief consumed me, and eventually I died. I only wish I had opened my eyes sooner and saw what was right in front of me all along. REGAN sits back in her chair, crossing her arms and rolling her eyes. The other characters look at the walls, the ceiling, the floor, anywhere but at each other as they think about this in silence. A bell dings.

RECEPTIONIST: Regan? Mr. Shakespeare will see you now.

Regan: Well, while you dimwits are sitting there, mourning your pathetic lives, I will be getting the part that I was destined for! She jumps up and exits the room. Blackout.

SCENE TWO

A well-furnished office. A dark maple desk sits in the center, in front of a fully-stocked bookshelf. The door opens, and REGAN enters, mid sentence, facing whomever is coming in behind her.

REGAN: I expect at least twelve ten minute breaks a day, as well as my own dressing room and personal stylist. I do not drink anything besides Fiji Water, and I do not get up at any time before 9 AM. Am I being clear? WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE walks in behind her, his eyes squinting and his lips pursed.

SHAKESPEARE: As understandable as your demands are, I do not believe I have granted you the part yet…

REGAN: (pats him on the shoulder) Come on, Willy. We both know I’m your best option.

SHAKESPEARE: I’m afraid not, Regan. It seems you have one tragic flaw.

REGAN: Ex-squeeze me? I am FLAWLESS.

SHAKESPEARE: I’m sure you think that’s true. But for this new play that I am writing, I need my characters to be utter perfection. I have written many plays, as you know. However, I always had to kill off so many of my characters, due to their tendency to develop tragic flaws. I just don’t know what happened!

REGAN: Yeah. I wonder what the common thread is…

SHAKESPEARE: (continuing as if he did not hear her) So now that I am developing this new play, I have all of you actors here to audition for the parts.

REGAN: Okay. So where are the lines at? Aren’t I here to do a reading?

SHAKESPEARE: Actually, no. I have decided that the characters in this new play must be without flaws. So if you want a part in this play, you must conquer your one flaw that led to your downfall.

REGAN: What does that mean? What do I have to do?

SHAKESPEARE: Your greed led to your downfall. You wanted power and control and were selfish and cruel. To get a part in my play, you must spend a day feeding the poor and hungry to prove you have overcome your vanity and greed.

REGAN: Is this a joke?

SHAKESPEARE: You have twenty-four hours. BLACKOUT.

SCENE THREE

Same setting as the scene before, only now papers are scattered across the desk. HAMLET enters.

HAMLET: So as you can see, my resume is v-v-very impressive. I am a thoughtful, considerate actor. I take my time with my actions and consider every option before I act. SHAKESPEARE enters behind him, mid eye roll.

SHAKESPEARE: Yes, I have noticed that. Well you see, you’re a fine actor, I’ll give you that. However, you must fix one thing before I give you a part in my new play.

HAMLET: Wha-what would that be?

SHAKESPEARE: First of all, fix the stutter. I know I didn’t give you that. Second, you need to fix your tragic flaw. I gave you lines, I spelled out exactly what you had to do, and what did you do instead? You wandered around, ‘to be or not to be’ all that mumbo jumbo and your indecisiveness, or as you so eloquently put it, ‘consideration’ led to your demise. So to fix this, I need you to make a decision.

HAMLET: O-okay. Yes. I decide yes.

SHAKESPEARE: That was not your decision, but great start! Alas, you must make one of mankind’s toughest decisions.  You must complete a task that requires the shrewdest thinking. It is a task that many men have failed to complete and will continue to fail to complete until the end of time. This is a tough decision to make. But it must be done.

HAMLET: By God! Wha-what could you be asking of me?

SHAKESPEARE: You must make a decision…on what to order at a restaurant. BLACKOUT.

SCENE FOUR

Same office, however the previously scattered papers have been picked up and are in a stack. An open book is laid out on the desk, and papers are placed haphazardly in it. DESDEMONA is seated across the desk, her hands clasped as she nervously rocks back and forth on her chair. SHAKESPEARE is seated on the other side of the desk, his hands folded underneath his chin, his glasses perched on his nose.

SHAKESPEARE: Well?

DESDEMONA: I’m not sure what you’re asking me to do.

SHAKESPEARE: Your tragic flaw was your lack of assertiveness. You allowed the men around you to define you. This is what ultimately led to your downfall. You need to stand up for yourself.

DESDEMONA: You make it sound so easy.

SHAKESPEARE: It is.

DESDEMONA: How would you know? Are you a female living in a male-dominated society? How can you tell me that it is ‘so easy’ for a woman to stand up to a man when all my life I’ve been told to sit down and listen to the man?

SHAKESPEARE: Times are changing, my fair Desdemona. There is this new thing called ‘feminism’ arising. But alas, that is for another time, another play. I myself am not too fond of the idea, however, I do know that you allowed yourself to be murdered due to your inability to stand up for yourself.

DESDEMONA: So to get the part, I have to stand up for myself?

SHAKESPEARE: You must show assertiveness to a male. You have twenty-four hours.

SCENE FIVE

ROMEO is sitting criss-cross-applesauce on the chair, an eager smile on his face. JULIET sits next to him, her hands clutching his, a grin on her face as well. SHAKESPEARE sits across from them, his eyes on their hands, his face void of any sort of amusement. He sighs.

SHAKESPEARE: You two know that you’re very young…right?

JULIET: Very young and very in love.

ROMEO:  Forever and always. They kiss passionately. Shakespeare shudders, appearing to be close to vomiting. He swallows, hard. Then he speaks.

SHAKESPEARE: You two died because of your love. You fell for each other before you had any sort of worldly experience. Therefore, to fix your mistakes and earn parts in my play, you must perform specific tasks.

ROMEO: We’ll do anything!

JULIET: Yes! As long as we end up together!

SHAKESPEARE: To be in my play, you two must get jobs.

JULIET: Motherhood is the ultimate job.

SHAKESPEARE: First of all, ew. Second of all, I will assign you two jobs. Complete it once and you shall both be in my play. (Pause). Together.

JULIET: We’ll do it!

ROMEO: Anything to be with my true love!

SHAKESPEARE: Wonderful. I’m glad you’re both so agreeable. Romeo, a boy your age should be out mowing lawns. Therefore, I assign you landscaping. Juliet, if motherhood is what you desire, I am willing to give you a firsthand look at what you desire. You will babysit. I’ll see you both tomorrow after you have finished your jobs. Then we shall see who is chosen for my new play. He exits.

ROMEO: Juliet, what if we don’t both make it? In the play, I mean?

JULIET: (taking his face in her hands) My love, don’t even say such silly things. No matter what happens, we will be together. If one of us does not make it, neither of us will make it. We must stay together, okay?

ROMEO: We will. (They passionately kiss. The light fades to darkness)

SCENE SIX

The same office. KING LEAR and SHAKESPEARE sit across from one another, both in the exact same position, with their chin in their hands, their eyes trained on one another. It appears as if the two are in a staring competition.

KING LEAR: Sir, with all due respect…you blinded me. So I’m not sure how you expect me to…expect me to…

SHAKESPEARE: Your blindness was present long before you lost your vision. You failed to see what was right in front of you. That was what led to your foolish actions and mistakes.

KING LEAR: So how do I fix that?

SHAKESPEARE: I would suggest laser eye surgery, but I’m pretty sure that hasn’t been discovered yet. So I want you to go to the glasses store and buy yourself the perfect pair of spectacles.

KING LEAR: Spectacles? What will that do for me?

SHAKESPEARE: When you find the perfect pair of glasses, you shall finally be able to see clearly.

KING LEAR: So I must enter this so-called ‘glasses store’ and try on glasses until I find the perfect pair!

SHAKESPEARE: Exactly!

ACT TWO

SCENE ONE

The setting is a homeless shelter, the common grounds in particular, doubling as a soup kitchen. Throughout the room are homeless individuals seated on fold out chairs, in front of them bowls of soul on small end tables. To the right of the tables is a line filled with homeless people waiting to be served. Behind the table holding the pot of soup is REGAN dressed in attire inappropriate for the occasion, a fancy cocktail dress and heels, other than an apron that shows no signs of previous use. REGAN is complaining about her presence in the shelter more than helping serve the people in front of her. An older woman, presumably another volunteer, stands to the right of her, wearing an apron and hair net. She is serving food to homeless people and visibly ignoring REGAN.

REGAN: (holding a hair net) You can’t be serious...I am not going to wear this! Are we almost done? We’ve been here forever.

WOMAN: We’ve been here for less than thirty minutes. Please put your hair net on.

REGAN: (putting on hair net and muttering under her breath) Stupid play...homeless people...Shakespeare...sell out...probably didn’t even write his own plays…(REGAN takes a spoonful of pasta and slaps it onto a person’s plate. She continues this for three plates)

HOMELESS WOMAN: Bless your soul! (Reaches out and takes REGAN’s hand)

REGAN: Ew! Don’t touch me! (She lunges back in disgust and drops the spoon)

WOMAN: Regan! Go get another spoon!

REGAN: No way! Did you see how she touched me? I’m too pretty for this.

The scene freezes. REGAN looks around, confused. SHAKESPEARE enters.

SHAKESPEARE: Tsk, tsk, Regan. I really thought you could do it.

REGAN: You gave me the most ridiculous task. People actually do this willingly?

SHAKESPEARE: Alas, your vanity and self-absorption once again prevails. I’m sorry, Regan, but you will not be cast in my new play.

REGAN: Whatever! I didn’t want to be in it anyways!

SCENE TWO

A dark-lit restaurant with posters and objects hanging on the walls. Red booths align the walls. HAMLET sits at a table in the center, holding a thick menu. He is flipping through it, visibly anxious. A tall brunette waitress appears, wearing all black and holding a notepad in her hand.

WAITRESS: Hi, my name’s Ella. I’ll be taking care of you. What can I get you to drink?

HAMLET: Hello, E-ella. That’s a beautiful name.

ELLA: Thank you. Something to drink?

HAMLET: What would you suggest?

ELLA: Well, we have fountain drinks, milkshakes, wines, teas, coffee...whatever you’re in the mood for.

HAMLET: I...I don’t know what I’m in the m-mood for…

ELLA: I can start you off with water?

HAMLET: Y-yes...that would be lovely...

Ella exits

HAMLET: Okay...I need to order a meal. So let’s see here. Hamburgers, cheeseburgers, salads, chicken, steak...so many items.(His voice grows more panicked with each option) I could get breakfast...lunch...dinner...How is this even possible?

Ella enters

ELLA: Here’s your water. Have you made a decision?

HAMLET: Er...no…

ELLA: That’s okay, I can come back.

Ella exits

HAMLET: Okay, I need to decide. There’s pasta, sandwiches, pancakes...and sides? So many sides! Two sides for every meal? Why would they do this?

Ella enters

ELLA: Are you ready to order?

HAMLET: NO! How could a-anyone order off of this textbook you call a menu? What k-k-kind of torture is this? LEAVE ME!

The scene freezes. HAMLET is taking deep, jagged breaths. SHAKESPEARE enters.

SHAKESPEARE: Really, Hamlet? You couldn’t decide on a meal?

HAMLET: You are the d-d-devil.

SHAKESPEARE: Well, your indecisiveness cost you your life and more importantly, a part in my new play. Sorry, buddy. Maybe enroll in some speech therapy?

SCENE THREE

Inside a restaurant DESDEMONA and a man sit in a booth looking through the menu. A waitress approaches the table to take the couple's order.

WAITRESS: Are you ready to order?

MAN: Yes we are. I would like the New York strip steak, rare please.

WAITRESS: Alright. And for you Miss? (the waitress looks to DESDEMONA. DESDEMONA opens her mouth to respond).

MAN: (interrupting) She’ll have a salad. (gives her a sideways look) Dressing on the side.

DESDEMONA: Um?

WAITRESS: Alright, anything else?

MAN: No, I think we’re good.

WAITRESS begins to walk away.

DESDEMONA: I don’t...uh…

WAITRESS: (turning back) I’m sorry?

MAN: Nothing, she’s fine.

WAITRESS: Oh, okay.

DESDEMONA: No! I am not fine!

WAITRESS: Excuse me?

DESDEMONA: I don’t want a salad. And I definitely don’t want you. (Turns to waitress) I’d like a cheeseburger and fries, please. And a new table. (Gets up) Goodbye! (As she walks away, SHAKESPEARE appears and grabs her arm. She jerks it away from him, thinking it is her date)

SHAKESPEARE: Ah, you’ve done well! (She turns around, surprised, then pleased) You stood up for yourself and your desires and proved to be assertive. I would be honored if you played a role in my latest play.

SCENE FOUR

Outside of a house a truck pulls up and from inside ROMEO and an older man come out. The man watches as ROMEO unloads the lawn mowing equipment from the back of the truck and laughs as he struggles to mount the lawnmower.

MAN: Young man, we have three lawns to mow in just this neighbor. Do you think you can hurry up and start mowing already?

ROMEO: Oh, sure. (MAN exists) How does one even work this strange thing?

Finding the ignition, he climbs into the lawn mower and begins mowing the lawn. He looks up at the sky and the lawn mower begins to swerve. He does not notice.

ROMEO: But soft! What light through yonder window breaks? It is the east, and Juliet is the… (ROMEO sighs and crashes the lawnmower into a house. He gasps and jumps out, running his hands through his hair in shock)

The scene freezes. SHAKESPEARE enters.

SHAKESPEARE: Love is too distracting for someone of such a young age, Romeo. Someone who cannot perform such a simple adolescent job like lawn mowing is not old enough to experience love. Youth is the problem. You are not old enough for the part.

SCENE FIVE

A tall woman dressed in a sparkling blue dress is leading JULIET down a marble hallway. Expensive paintings align the walls.

MS. WOODS: So this is my home. I have three boys, Tommy, Frank and Alex. Tommy is eight, Frank is five, and Alex is four. My husband and I will be home around midnight. Any questions?

JULIET: None at all, madam. Have a wonderful night!

MS. WOODS practically races out of the house, not looking back once. Three boys enter. One is half Juliet’s height, with a backwards red baseball cap on his head. He is TOMMY. The second boy, FRANK, who is shorter, is holding a toy airplane. The toddler, ALEX, is holding TOMMY’s hand.

JULIET: Hello, boys! My, my, what are we up to?

FRANK: Will you play with us?

JULIET: Oh, of course! Would you like to play cards? Or perhaps some board games?

ALEX: Cars!

TOMMY: Will you play with the cars with us? (FRANK and ALEX wander off)

JULIET: Surely! Where can I find them? (There is a crash)

TOMMY: (smiling devilishly) Looks like they just did.

SCENE SIX

A carpeted room. JULIET is tied to a chair in the middle with a jumprope. ALEX is playing with a car by her feet. FRANK and TOMMY are crashing their monster truck toys into each other.

JULIET: Boys! This is not acceptable! Untie me!

FRANK: (zooming his car around the room) Vroom! Vroom!

TOMMY: (lunges for Frank, smashing his truck into his and also tackling him to the ground)

FRANK: Ow! That hurt!

JULIET: Boys! Now!

TOMMY: Oh, be quiet.

FRANK: Tommy, that really hurt! (Alex begins to cry. Tommy begins to zoom his monster truck around the room, making car noises while Frank keeps repeating, “ow, that hurt!”)

JULIET: ENOUGH! (The boys fall silent). I have had enough! Untie me right now, Thomas.

TOMMY: (unties JULIET quickly)

JULIET: Thank you. Now boys, your behavior has been unacceptable. All three of you will sit in time out for a few minutes to make up for it. Am I clear?

TOMMY: Yes…

FRANK: Sorry.

ALEX: Sorry.

(The scene freezes. JULIET rolls her eyes and begins to clean up the mess of toys that the boys have made. SHAKESPEARE appears.)

SHAKESPEARE: I have to say, I am impressed. You really pulled that off.

JULIET: They’re lovely boys. They just needed a firmer hand.

SHAKESPEARE: And you were able to do that. You really have shown me that you are able to overcome your foolishness to get a job done.  I would be honored if you would take a part in my new play.

JULIET: Oh, thank you!

(Blackout)

SCENE SEVEN

KING LEAR is walking around a room filled with glasses and mirrors. He is wandering about, looking frightened as he takes in the scenery. He stops at a table and picks up a pair of glasses. Upon taking them, he gasps and drops them to the floor. A sales associate appears almost immediately, a pair of glasses perched on her nose and a stern face.

SALES ASSOCIATE: Can I help you?

KING LEAR: Erm…I need a pair of these spectacles.

SALES ASSOCIATE: Well, alright. What kind of frame would you like?

KING LEAR: Frame? For pictures?

SALES ASSOCIATE: No, the shape of your lense. There’s square, rectangle, circle, oval…

KING LEAR: Oh, I don’t know! (He begins to sway, as if about to faint) I think I’m seeing stars…

SALES ASSOCIATE: Sorry, our glasses don’t come in that shape. (Pause) Have a seat. I’ll get you some glasses to try on. (He sits)

KING LEAR: How will I know which is the right pair?

SALES ASSOCIATE enters, holding three pairs of glasses.

SALES ASSOCIATE: Here, try this.

She hands him a pair of rectangle glasses. He tries them on, and exaggeratedly blinks. He looks up at her and gasps.

KING LEAR: I CAN’T SEE ANYTHING! IT’S ALL A BLUR!

SALES ASSOCIATE: That’s fine, take them off. They’re clearly not for you. (He takes them off and sighs happily. She hands him another pair.) Try this.

KING LEAR: (Putting on the new pair) Everything seems clear… (Turns to look at her) Oh my! You’re green!

SALES ASSOCIATE: They’re tinted. It’s all the rage with teens nowadays.

KING LEAR: I can’t wear green glasses! Everyone looks like an ogre! (Lowers voice and fakes a Scottish accent) Get out of my swamp!

SALES ASSOCIATE: Okay, Shrek. Give them here. (He hands her the glasses) Hm..alright. Try these ones. (She hands him a circle-framed pair)

KING LEAR: (Putting them on) Hm… (He gets up and looks around, exaggeratedly blinking) These seem...okay…

REGAN enters, stomping on the ground, her hair a mess and her face red with anger.

REGAN:(yelling) Daddy! I need you to take care of Shakespeare for me! That sell-out said I wasn’t good enough to be in his play! You need to do something!

KING LEAR leaps back in fear and points at her, his hand shaking.

KING LEAR: Evil! Evil! I can see it clearly now! EVIL!

REGAN: What are you even saying? Ugh, whatever. I’m going to have to take care of him myself. (Begins to exit, mumbling to herself) I’ll just tell everyone he didn’t write his own plays...that should do it!

KING LEAR: My...I can see! I see her for what she truly is!

SHAKESPEARE enters.

SHAKESPEARE: Yes, you have found the perfect pair. Not the most attractive, but nonetheless, the perfect pair. Now that you can see everything as it is for what it truly is, I have a part in my play just for you.

KING LEAR: I would love to be in it.

SCENE EIGHT

The seven characters, REGAN, HAMLET, DESDEMONA, JULIET, ROMEO, KING LEAR, and POLONIUS, are standing behind a curtain. They are all standing quietly, looking nervous and frightened. REGAN is staring at herself in her compact mirror. HAMLET is tapping his foot. DESDEMONA is biting her nails. JULIET and ROMEO are holding hands. KING LEAR is wearing his new glasses and glancing about the room in awe, and POLONIUS is nervously stroking the curtain.

POLONIUS: This curtain seems rather...familiar. I’m getting a bad feeling from it.

REGAN: Quiet, Grandpa.

There is a loud drumming noise. The curtain lifts and the seven characters walk out onto a stage. SHAKESPEARE is standing in the center, a smile on his face.

SHAKESPEARE: Welcome to my theatre! It’s called the Globe. Here, only the best performers act in the best shows for only the most worthy of audiences!

REGAN: (Feigning a whisper but actually very loud) It smells awful in here!

SHAKESPEARE: (pretending he did not hear her but a look of annoyance has crossed his face) And now, I will read you your fate!

HAMLET: F-f-fate?

SHAKESPEARE: I gave all of you tasks to complete to fix your fatal flaws. If you were able to, you have a part in my play written specifically for you. But if you didn’t, you will leave here, and never come back. (Long dramatic pause. It lasts for a whole minute, and the characters begin to shift uncomfortably)

DESDEMONA: So did we-

SHAKESPEARE: Shush! (Pause. He sighs) I was pausing for dramatic effect. Gosh. (He takes a deep breath, closing his eyes as he sucks in air. His eyes open, and the devilish grin has appeared once again on his face) Here we go. (His voice takes on the tone very similar to a game show host) You’ve all worked up to this moment. But only a select few of you will be chosen. This is it, everyone. This is the moment you’ve been waiting for. (Pause) Desdemona, step forward. (She steps forward) Now, Desdemona, step backward. (She steps backward). Now, step forward. (She steps forward)

REGAN: What, is she doing the cha cha? (All the other characters laugh.)

SHAKESPEARE: (rolling his eyes) I’m just trying to keep you all on your toes. (Turns to DESDEMONA) Okay, stay in the front line. Juliet, take a step forward. (She steps forward) Good. King Lear, take a step forward. (KING LEAR steps forward) Okay. Those of you in the front...you are all… (Pause) In my next play! Congratulations! Back row, I’m sorry, but this is the end of the road for you.

HAMLET: What? No!

REGAN: Sell out!

POLONIUS: I knew this would happen! HAMLET, REGAN and POLONIUS begin to argue while DESDEMONA and KING LEAR hug and chatter excitedly. SHAKESPEARE stands proudly, his hands on his hips, a smug grin on his face.

ROMEO: (runs over to JULIET, taking her hands.) I’m so sorry I couldn’t get in the play, Juliet. But I promise you, we will get into the next one. (Begins to lead her away)

JULIET: What are you doing?

ROMEO: I didn’t get into the play. If one of us didn’t make it, neither of us would make it, remember?

JULIET: (Pulling her hand away) Yeah… I changed my mind.

ROMEO: (recoils back in shock, his eyes wide) Changed your-changed your mind? Why that’s-that’s preposterous! You can’t change your mind! Not when it comes to love!

JULIET: See, that’s what I’m saying. Everything with you is about love. It’s all serious and sappy, like (mimics a male voice) oh, Juliet, I love you so much, I’d die without you, uhhh… (voice returns to normal) Babysitting those boys made me realize the responsibilities that I’ll have to take when I have children. And honestly, I am so not ready for that. And neither are you. I’m sorry, Romeo, but I’m taking this part. Without you.

ROMEO: (sputtering) But-but, Juliet...You can’t-you can’t-

JULIET: What are you? Hamlet? (She spins around and walks away, hugging DESDEMONA then KING LEAR, leaving ROMEO alone)

SHAKESPEARE approaches him and pats him on the back.

SHAKESPEARE: It’s okay, lad. All’s well that ends well! (Blackout)