#anyway have the best girl who has been on my mind since Stone Ocean came out <33333

[loriane-elmuerto]

Caroline Becker: "You a healer??? A doctor??? No??? Sit the fuck down." (x)

[dancingintheraindreamingonday]

Trouble in paradise - Part 4

Summary: This part takes place 5 months after the blip. Things get difficult when you and Bucky get a guest.

Warning: non; just fluff

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x angel!reader

Author's note: Took me ages to write that. I’m introducing you to two new characters. ;) Thanks again for everyone who is reading my story. English is still not my first languages

Part 1 

Part 2 

Part 3

Bucky felt weird, deprived. It has been 5 months since the blip and now everything was different. He wasn’t in Wakanda anymore, reading all those letters you wrote to him.

Steve wasn’t there anymore. He stayed in the past and Bucky knew the reason. Steve loved you so he couldn’t stand to see you happy with Bucky. He fled from the painful reality into a past where you weren’t present. 

You and Bucky moved in together one month after the big war. It should have been awkward to move in with someone you barely knew but it wasn’t. Everything with you was easy and harmonic.  And Bucky enjoyed the levity. 

5 years ago, after the snap, you started to work as a teacher. It didn’t matter that you had no qualifications. The schools were so desperate because of the sudden disappearance of several teachers and you were fantastic. You still work there and to everyone else you and Bucky seemed like a normal couple. 

Bucky just finished therapy when he noticed a person with a hoodie who was following him. 

He slipped into an empty alley and ambushed for the person to come.  Bucky didn’t need to wait long for it. 

He attacked the hooded figure pressing it to the wall. A soft squeal left the mouth of the person. 

„Who the hell are you and why are you following me?“ 

„I… I mean no harm.“ The voice of a woman spoke, timidly and softly. 

The figure raised both hands to the sides of her hood and pushed it a little bit back, but it was enough for Bucky to be stunned. He could see the (y/h/c) hair shining under the afternoon sun. Her hair reminded Bucky of yours. Glossy, soft and so slick, that the fabric of the hood went slithering down. This girl in front of him looked like you. The same (y/e/c) eyes and the same small nose. Just the lips had another shape-they were slightly thinner. Without doubt, the girl looked like  she could have been your sister. 

„Who are you?“

„My name is Charlie and I’m here because I really need your help.“

„Why do you think I’ll help you?“

„It’s HYDRA, and angels. They are targeting my family.“

„I don’t believe a single word you say. HYDRA doesn’t exist anymore and why would I even care for your family.“ 

„Because… I can’t believe I’m telling you this. You are my family. You are my father.“ Bucky let go of the girl like he got burnt. 

„I’m not a father. I don’t have a child. You’re completely mad.“ 

„Yeah, you’re right. You are not a father and you don't have a child yet but one day you will and that kid will be me.“

„So you’re saying you're from the future? You’re out of your mind.“ Bucky started to walk back to the main street, leaving her alone.

„I can prove it.“ Charlie hurried after Bucky. 

„When you can’t sleep at night, mum makes you hot chocolate and reads a book to you. And every time I have a nightmare you do the same procedure.“

„That doesn’t prove anything.“

„Two weeks after the blip you bought an engagement ring for mum. You carry it in your pocket and you wait for the perfect day, the perfect moment to ask her. And you told me that one day you woke up and just knew that this particular day would be the one. Here.“ The girl was searching in her bag. She pulled out a picture. 

It was an indescribable strange feeling to look at a picture of something that hasn’t happened yet. The picture showed you and Bucky on your wedding day. You both were kissing each other. It was a soft yet freeing kiss. All these years of waiting and longing were put into this kiss. Bucky wasn’t sure if others would interpret the same thing or if this was just his current feelings; still waiting impatiently for the to come. In the background he saw Sam and Pepper and another woman who he hasn’t met yet. The laughed and clapped happily their hands. 

Bucky sat down on a bench, that was nearby.

„Am I… am I a good father?“

„Of course you are. You are the best.“ Charlie lay her hand reassuringly on Bucky’s.

„So what’s going on in the future?“

„A lot. It’s pure chaos. The war of the angels isn’t up there anymore. They now live on earth, they are fighting on earth. And they have multiple allies.. HYDRA or SWORD. They are after us. You and mum are desperate and helpless because you both don't know how to protect our family. So mum thought about sending me to Olympia… to Ikaris.“

Bucky snorted. He didn't like the Eternals and especially Ikaris, who was a handsome and powerful man. But it was his arrogance and his closeness to you that made Bucky despise him. Every time Ikaris came to visit you, which happened on a regular basis since the Blip, Bucky felt minor in his presence. Like a loser. Even Sam and Steve didn’t like Ikaris. They met him when he came to warn you about Thanos upcoming arrival. „He’s the Prime Eternal“, you always said to Bucky. „Of course he’s a bit arrogant but he’s also sincere, loyal and fair. I’ve known him for so many years, I’ve stood side by side in his war against Apocalypse. I trust him, and you can trust him too.“ 

„Wow, even in the past you can’t stand him. Anyway, we didn't make it to Olympia. They knew we were coming, Michael and Rafael were already waiting for us. So you and Mum had no choice but to fight. You gave Capt… I mean Sam the stone and just said 2023 and that I should look for a prophecy? And then Sam and I tried to flee but they were everywhere, so he gave me the stone and suddenly I’m here.“

„What stone?“

„This one.“, Charlie showed Bucky a small green stone. 

„That’s an infinity stone! Where did you get this?“ 

„Don’t ask me! You gave the stone to Sam. I don’t know where you got this. But mum can’t know about this. She thinks, angels shouldn’t time travel, because we could misuse this power. “

„Put that away. If someone sees you with this you’ll be in danger.“

Bucky met Charlie every week this week which didn't get unnoticed by a certain person. 

On the first day, it was a coincidence that you were there as well. You just picked Morgan up from Kindergarten. Morgan Stark was the daughter of Tony and Pepper and even thought you never were really close to them, one day changed this. You visited Tony and Pepper and suddenly Pepper went into labour. Complications came up and Pepper had to fight for her and for her baby’s life. But it had been your angel powers that saved both of them. Tony never forgot this and he made you the godmother of Morgan. You hated this name. According to you, no angel should be called a godmother or a godfather. 

The first time you saw Bucky and her you didn't really think about it. But you were confused that Bucky didn't mention the woman he met this day and you couldn’t help but to be suspicious.

The next following 3 days you saw Bucky and this woman sitting too closely for your liking on a small bench and talking vividly with each other. 

„Is that Bucky?“, Morgan looked at you as she pointed with her small pointing finger in the direction where Bucky was sitting. 

„I think you’ll be the next Sherlock Holmes. C’mon, lets say hi to Bucky and his friend“

You were nervous and an uneasy feeling spread in your body. 

„Hey, Buck.“, You grinned at him, recognizing how surprised he looked.

„What are you doing here?“

„Picked Morgan up.“ A strange silence grew between the two of you. That's why how you started to observe the woman, that was sitting on the bench. She was truthfully gorgeous. A fact that you didn't appreciated at all. 

„Hi, I’m (y/f/n).“ You extended your right hand.

„Hi, I’m uh.. Charlie…“

Her hand was shaking and sweaty like she was nervous and when you touched her hand you felt her powers, her angel and you didn't like it at all. You pressed your lips together and faked a sweet smile. „Nice to meet you.“

You looked away from Charlie and into Bucky’s deep ocean blue eyes.

„So, how do you met each other?“

„Well… we… met… in therapy.“ Bucky stuttered.

You nodded slowly your head. „Are you sure or do you need another minute to come up with a better lie.“, you whispered.

Bucky ignored this and pulled you slightly away from the bench. 

„I want to ask you something.“

„Okay?“, Morgan was still sleeping in your arms and you were afraid, that she would wake up from your fast heartbeat. 

„I wanted to ask if you’d be okay with Charlie staying with us for some days. She doesn’t have a home and…“ Bucky was scratching his head as he looked unsure.

„Absolutely not.“

„Why not?“

"What did she tell you? What did she tell you to gain your trust, because whatever it was, it was a lie.“ A pause

„Did she tell you that she’s an angel? But she isn’t a normal one, she wasn’t created by Him. She was born, but she isn’t a Nephilim either.“

Bucky looked confused, not knowing what a nephilim is.

„A nephilim is the offspring of an angel and a human. They are half human, half angel and they are really annoying. But she is a real born angel which leads me to the conclusion that one of her parents must have been a really powerful angel… like an archangel. Bucky, I know every archangel and none of them has a child. She can’t be trusted and there is no angel who doesn’t want to see us dead… with all the chaos we provoked.“

You starred into Bucky’s face. No sign of surprise could be seen.

„She told you. You aren’t even surprised. Since when do you trust angels?“ Shocked about his sudden trust, you opened your mouth slightly.

„Well, I trust you, don’t I.“

Bucky regretted this sentence immediately as he saw your hurt in your big (y/e/c) eyes.

„I didn't mean it like that. I just… this girl has no one, no family, no friends. And I feel bad for her. You of all people know how difficult those times are.“

As a teacher you saw how desperate parents and kids could be. You knew that for several families the blip didn't make it any better, if anything it just made it worse. 

„Don’t compare her life to those who really suffered, Bucky. She is not innocent. Angels are never innocent… I… Who is this girl? Who are her parents? Did she tell you anything about them?“

„She is scared and helpless. She’s still traumatized and doesn’t talk much“ 

You snorted.

„We can get her a hotel room for some time but I won’t let her into our home. That’s my final answer.“

You kissed Bucky on his cheek and walked with Morgan on your arms home. 

„She will kill you.“ Charlie told Bucky as they both walked upstairs to Bucky’s and yours apartment door. „Probably.“ 

Charlie lay her hand on Bucky’s underarm which caused him to look into her face. 

„Please, don’t get killed. Without you, there is no me.“ Even though she just said it jokingly, a warm and pleasant feeling went through Bucky’s body. 

He opened the door and heard you preparing dinner. 

„Hey Buck, I hope you aren’t upset…“, You stopped your sentence when you saw who Bucky brought with him.

„Oh for god’s sake. You’ve got to be kidding me.“

„I know you’re angry with me but I couldn’t just let her stay there in the park.“ Bucky tried to calm you down.

„Please, Bucky. Don’t let her into our home. She has more secrets than the Vatican“ You begged him. 

„It’s just for a couple of days, yeah?“

You shrugged

„Well, you already made this decision on your own and I have no choice but to accept it.“ Bucky leaned down to kiss you but you turned your head away. 

„You’re probably hungry. Sit down, please.“ You offered the girl a seat. Charlie was starving and it had been weeks since she ate a proper meal. 

„What about you?“ Bucky asked worriedly.

„I lost my appetite but don’t worry, I won’t die out of starvation.“ 

You opened the door to a small room. The walls were painted in light blue and small and bigger yellow handprints of you and Morgan could be seen. 

„Is it already morning?“ She asked sleepily, rubbing her eyes with her tiny hands.

„No, you just get an upgrade. Go back to sleep.“ You whispered softly as you carried her to your room and left some minutes later with a pillow and a blanket which you put onto the couch.

„Charlie, you can sleep in that room and you“ You turned your head towards Bucky.

„You can sleep there.“ With your head you're nodding to the red, comfortable couch.

„You’re kicking me out of our bed?“ Hurt and disappointment could be heard in Bucky’s voice.

"Did you really think that after everything you’ve done today I want to sleep next you? 

Good night.“

Two weeks had passed and Bucky was on edge to the therapist’s sorrow. Charlie was still living with you. 

„Trouble in paradise?“ Ikaris saw the blankets on the couch as he entered your apartment. Since the blip the Eternals were at war with the Deviants again. Ikaris used his getaways to meet you, asking for your support in his war.

„Don’t get me started. This woman just infuriates me.“

„Tell me about it.“ Ikaris sat down, watching how you prepare dinner.

„Well… 2 weeks ago Bucky brought this girl home because she’s helpless and innocent.“ The last part of your sentence is full with cutting irony. 

„But you don’t believe it?“ Ikaris dug deeper.

„How can I. This girl is an angel.“ You put a glass of water in front of him.

Ikaris eyes widen due to your confession.

„And not just a normal angel… she has a soul... I felt it when I touched her hands.“

Ikaris swallowed the water and snorted.

„How is that even possible?“ He asked when he gained back his control of his breathing.

„I have no idea and I don’t think that this never existed before. That makes her kinda dangerous. And to be honest, I don’t like how close she and Bucky are.“

„So, you see her as a threat of your security or your relationship with James?“

„I don't know. Even though she is powerful she can’t kill me with her powers, but she has Bucky wrapped around her finger with her annoying angel charm. And that will eventually kill me.“

„Maybe she has the same friendship like you had with Steve. You told me, that in the beginning none of the avengers trusted you, except Steve.“

„That was different. I was always honest.“ You said defending yourself.

„But they didn't know that. You are extremely strong, immortal and gorgeous. You had Steve wrapped around finger.“ 

You crossed your arms, not liking Ikaris’ reasons.

„Here they come“, You mumbled as you heard the apartment door to open.

„Hey, James!“ Ikaris greeted cheekily Bucky 

„Ikaris.“ Bucky nodded

„So, where is the wolf in sheep's clothing?“

„Ikaris, I swear I’ll k…“ You were masaging your temples.

Ikaris swallowed again 

„Damn woman, you didn't mention that she looks exactly like you. Are you both related?“ 

„As if, I’m definitely not related to this.“ Your voice was cold, which earned you an annoyed glance from Bucky

„So tell me, where are you from?“ Ikaris looked interested and attentive. 

„I don’t know, I can’t remember.“ Charlie's cheeks blushed as she shrugged. 

You snorted

„See, I told you. The worst liar on earth.“

„I thought out of all angels you would understand me not remembering my past.“ It was the first time that Charlie really spoke with you and it surprised you as much as it angers you. 

„Are you trying to compare your stupidity with me getting my memories burnt out in the most agonizing pain? You do remember, you're just not telling us. That’s a damn difference.“

Tears welled up in Charlie's eyes as she ran into her room. 

Bucky looked at you reproachfully and went after Charlie. 

„I’ll better go.“ Ikaris stood up. 

„What? No, please don't leave me here. At the moment, you are the only sane person here.“

„If I want to eat with this much tension I’ll just eat with my ex-girlfriends.“ He chuckled. 

„Talk with him. You both love each other, you will find a solution. And maybe trusting her… just a tiny bit would make her more talkative.“ Ikaris kissed you on the top of your head and left.

Bucky leaned against the kitchen counter, staring at you. 

„Why are you so mean to her?“

„No. The question should be: Why are you so nice to her?“

Bucky walked slowly into your direction

„You want to know the truth? She reminds me of you. She’s smart and strong but also extremely vulnerable. And because of that I feel the need to help her, to protect her.“ His voice was deeper than usual. 

Moments later Bucky stood before you and put both his big rough hands on the wall on each side of your head. He cornered you against the wall. 

„I’ve been deprived of you. Of your kisses, of your touches“ Bucky murmured in your ear, his lips slightly touching earlobe. He could smell your sweet, fruity fragrance that made him dizzy. 

„Promise me, that no matter how angry you’re with me, never stop kissing me. I need those. They're keeping sane.“ 

„I promise“

After hearing this, Bucky pressed his cold lips onto your soft and warm ones. His urgent tongue was invading your mouth, as he was pressing himself closer to you. Your hands were in his brown short hair trying to pull his head even closer to you. 

Bucky groaned.

You both tried to catch your breath when you both heard a woman’s voice straight out of the tv.

„Did you know Steve Rogers?“ 

„… I followed his career very closely as an Avenger. I like to think that I modeled my work after his. I liked that what I was doing would make people feel safe. Steve Rogers was the kind of guy who could do that, he gave me hope. Even though I never met him, he feels like a brother.“

Bucky clenched his jaw, not believing what he sees. You covered your mouth with your hands, shocked to see a new Captain America. 

@jessyballet​  @geek-and-proud​ @xlostinobsessionsx​ @cataves​ @intothesoul​ @beminetokeep @ebxny27 @ceo-of-daichi​ @bluemoon-icecream-blog​ @peterbparkersbae​ @bbl32​ @stormi-ames​ @intothesoul​ @avoxzy​ @ferxaniti​ @daughterofthemoon92​ @bebudaful​ @kaitieskidmore1​ @harrystylesandthegoobs​ 

[thestalkerbunny]

So a really good nap must have really helped my ol’ think pan because I just fully remembered a book I read in elementary school that I haven’t thought about in over 15 years and at the time I thought it was the best book and you know what, since Raya and the Last Dragon came out, I think this book would have deserved a movie because i liked the plot when I first read it.

It was called ‘Dragon Keeper’ and it took place in the Han Dynasty and the Emperor at the time kept dragons-they used to live in the gardens but apparently one bit him as a boy and then they were kept in a big pit minded by a ‘Dragon Keeper’ who was just this dick of a guy and his apprentice, this little shy nameless orphan girl. And eventually under his neglect, one of the dragons dies and he freaks out because he would get in BIG trouble because even though they’re stuffed away in this pit far from the emperor-it’s still THE EMPERORS PROPERTY AND U FUCKED UP BY LETTING IT DIE. So he pickles the body. Because. You know. That’s how you HIDE a body. Eventually thru an accident I think the girl meets the dragon and finds a stone in the pit and eventually they escape together and the dragon’s one wish is for him and that stone to go to the ocean. And of course there’s a dragon hunter trying to get this last dragon, escape etc. etc. but I just remember this sort of nice dynamic of ‘I am a giant reptile and this is my human daughter now who also carries around my rock.’

Anyways, I just thought I’d share it cause I just had the thought.

A bit of spoiler for the ending

The rock is actually the dragon’s egg. His mate was the one who died and was pickled and he’s trying to get the Rock to the ocean because he knows he’s just slowly dying and he has basically been using the girl to take care of it even though the entire time she’s just been thinking it’s a stupid purple rock

[razorblade180]

interdimensional Dads 4

Jaune:Who’s Next?

Jaune:Pick a number from one to a thousand.

Jaune:Since you married Yang it’s either 69

Jaune:Or 420, but because it you I’m gonna with 7

Jaune:Purple gets to go.

Jaune:....Oh did you- oh I see. That’s stupid. I like how he got the answer but it’s stupid.

Jaune:Hate to break it to you all but I can already tell that I’m probably the least interesting here. My Remnant doesn’t have anything crazy going on.

Jaune: Lucky you. We just wanna relax.

Jaune:Hehe, anyways I started dating Blake when we were at Beacon. Well I guess technically we didn’t date but we went on a lot of dates because we liked similar things. Music, tea, some books.

Jaune:Filth!

Jaune:*red* It’s been called that, yes. It’s something nice to bond over.

Jaune:Bond over, or bind over?

Jaune:I’m surprised you didn’t say bondage over.

Jaune:So scandalous. How grown of you.

Jaune:What would your dear parents think? Oh the shock!

Jaune:Why am I the one getting picked on!? You guys would literally find a similar interest in it!

Jaune:We know, it’s just funny seeing you red. Please continue.

Jaune:I can’t imagine the trip around the world was dramatically different. Reuniting with Blake was super comforting. We finally started officially dating after she scared me half to death at Argus. After beating Salem I decided to go with her back home after visiting my folks. Her parents were stunned to see yet another blonde-

Jaune:Sun or Yang?

Jaune:Both...you see, they new Sun for obvious reasons. Yang was a little more....how to put it?

Jaune:....She was in love with her too, wasn’t she?

A strange feeling of guilt and sadness filled the air.

Jaune:Yang and Blake were always pretty close, more so than with me in certain aspects. They were partners so of course it would be like amd with all the stuff that happened between them since Beacon, Yang falling in love with her was so easy to see. It wasn’t like it was one sided either, but those aspects, the knitty gritty hardships they shared? Sometimes sharing all that history makes it hard to have a normal relationship. So Yang took it pretty rough when we officially got together.

Jaune:That must’ve been a rough pill to swallow.

Jaune:It definitely was awkward at first l and a little bit of animosity. But eventually overtime it got better, until it didn’t... Blake and I had a kid. Our quiet little Lucas. Yang never out right said anything but having him and seeing us, me have a life with Blake brought sadness along with whatever happiness she did have for us. So she barely visits; she’s still kind when does though but it’s hard not to see that she would rather be somewhere else.

Jaune:Damn that’s....that’s rough. I couldn’t imagine my life without Yang. She’s practically my best friend at this point; always there to pick me up.

Jaune:Yeah she’s been a real life saver for me too.

Jaune:She’s my wife so it goes without saying that a world where she doesn’t want to be around me or Blake for that matter is pretty crazy. Do you at least have Ruby, Weiss, Ren and Nora?

Jaune:Yeah they’re around doing their own thing and we take turns visiting. Ruby tried to act like a bridge between us and Yang and it works for the most part. It’s rough but not as rough as it sounds. But any who, I guess I should talk about Lucas now.

Jaune:Before that, I couldn’t help but notice that you sound a little more...proper than the rest of us.

Jaune:*red* I’m always running into some important faunus that meets with Blake about equal rights stuff. It’s very weird being the only human around sometimes so I try extra hard not to say anything dumb. Don’t you have to meet with wealthy people a bunch?

Jaune:Yeah. They no better than to give me a hard time, or Weiss will kill them. They are very aware of the name ice queen.

Jaune:Ah.....Weiss. *smiles*

Jaune:So joe is your kid? I bet he’s as driven as his mother!

Jaune:*puts head on table* That boy has zero motivation! If you don’t bother him then he’ll lay around all day and sleep like a....well like a cat!

Jaune:Yikes...

Jaune:To be fair, I understand why. His semblance shows him various glimpses of the future that he’s never been able to complete control. Sometimes it activates without warning so it’s not uncommon for him to know something coming up. Poor guy can’t even finish a book sometimes without seeing his future self reading the ending.

Jaune:No wonder he has not motivation. The spice of life is being spoiled for him!

Jaune:Lucas is such a bright kid, a little bit awkward at times but he’s kind too. It’s a real bummer to see him in this constant slump. It’s not small things that get spot either. There are times he’s seen accidents happen and could do nothing to stop it, or the vision was so vague he didn’t know what was going on until it was too late. The world becomes pretty anxiety inducing if all you see is potential accidents.

Jaune:Potential?

Jaune:Yeah, it’s possible to avoid his visions. They aren’t set in stone by any means. He’s seen me beat him up in sparring and then didn’t show up. He’s walked out into the ocean before out of nowhere and speared a barracuda that he says “would’ve been bothersome later.” A family went swimming later on in that area. Still wish he went outside just to smell the roses though.

Jaune:Sounds frustrating, I feel for him. I don’t think my mind could function.

Jaune: I don’t think his is if he’s becoming a shut in. Maybe therapy or something? What does Blake think about all of this?

Jaune:Blake can convince him more than I can to move around more consistently. She’s always checking in out of nowhere and making sure both of us are doing well. This girl video chatted one time just to see if anything done anything fun, then forced us to find something fun to do if we haven’t. She knows if we’re left alone then we start stewing in our own thoughts way too much.

Jaune:That’s actually really sweet.

Jaune:I know! I can’t believe that’s my wife! We call her to make sure she takes a break from work or else she’ll work through lunch. We are basically tripping and picking each other up, it’s such a weird mess hehehe. That’s family though. It gets a little tense but nothing we can’t handle. Especially Lucas, I got a feeling his slump is about to turn into a rollercoaster.

Jaune:What makes you say that?

Jaune:Well....

xxxx

On a sunny day in menagerie a beautiful young girl looks up at the sky with complete serenity and wonder. It’s so blue, so simple, yet so fulfilling.

“You ever look at the sky and just wish you could touch it?” Her gaze drops to in front of her to see a very unamused Lucas.

“No, no I don’t.”

“That’s too bad. Are you more of a deep blue see guy or...”

“What are you doing?”

“Trying to know my bodyguard.”

“Still not your bodyguard.” He groaned. “Can you focus on not moving. I have three shots at this.”

“I bet you’ll get it right first try, no pressure.”

Lucas’s eye twitched as the girl gave him a big smile in her frayed harness, fifty feet from the ground. The boy angled his feet on the unsecured steel beam just enough to distribute his weight evenly.

“You and I have very different viewpoints on tense situations...” He slowly leaned forward with his hands stretched out. “Grab my hands at the same time.”

“Is it bad I wanna know what happens if I don’t?”

Her question was meant with stressful silence and anxious looks that only made her smile. “Just kidding, I can’t grab your hands at the same time when they’re trembling. Lighten up a little.”

“You do know this is your life right now?”

“Yeah I know. Hey, you single?”

That came out of nowhere. He folded his ears, flustered and confused. “What does that have to do with-”

The girl suddenly grabbed his hands. “Boom, you stopped trembling. That’s what I call team-” the harness snapped. The feeling of complete weightlessness took her for a moment before gravity came to pull her down. It was in that second Lucas yanked her close, her body in his arms.

He slowly slid backwards onto sturdy ground and then felt a strong breeze that was more than enough to sever the beam from the rest. The girl gasped.

“The workers!”

“Don’t worry.” He looked over the edge to see all of them far away and the beam falling right into their massive pile of dirt he told them to put down. Lucas let out a long sigh before looking at the girl.

She raised her eyebrow. “You haven’t answered my question yet.”

He groaned again. Go for a walk they said. It would do you some good they said. Now I’m dealing with this.

“I’m single.”

“Cool, I’m not.” She giggled.

“.....” He slowly nodded. “I should drop you.”

“But you won’t.”

“Sadly....”

Part 3

[drwcn]

I really do think mianmian and lwj deserve to be like, close friends. from their meeting in the show it doesn’t seem like they ever saw each other after jinlintai and i have no idea when they would’ve gotten the chance, but just afterwards, you know?

yes, I think they definitely deserve to be friends! One of things I always found troubling about these novel based xianxia dramas is the lack of sustainable friendship beyond the main romance line. I guess in order to create angst and emotional investment for the audiences, a lot of times, friendship get sidelined or destroyed when characters die or betray each other. As well, most non-romance relationships that we see lasting to the end of the story are family relations and sometimes servitude (aka a lackey that hangs on until the end). Real friendships where both parties are roughly on equal footing and station rarely last in these epic adventure dramas. You couldn’t even say Wen Ning is Wei Wuxian’s friend of equal station, not when Wen Ning doesn’t call Wei Wuxian by his name, just “young master”. Perhaps this is to isolate the main character, who knows.  Even so, friendship between men is portrayed more frequently than friendship between women, or men and women. 

So with your prompt, it inspired me to write a little something Luo Qingyang centric, ft our Hanguang-jun and juniors.

~~~ 

Lanling Jin’s entourage stood by the gates of Cloud Recesses, patiently waiting for their admission. What seemed like a life time ago, Luo Qingyang had been on these same steps with Jin Zixuan. She’d been a girl then, barely bloomed, barely grown. Life had been simple, and she had thought she knew what the future would hold. 

So much had come to pass, yet these grand arches, white granite stone pulsing with spiritual aura, never seemed to age. 

She glanced down at her Jin Clan robes, the pale yellow and white, embroidered with peonies and a strip of blue accentuating the lapel edge. She never thought she’d wear these colours again. Her mother had been a Jin, first cousin of Jin Guangshan. Once upon time, she’d been proud to be one of them, to be part of a powerful and wealthy clan. Then the war came and went, like the debriding of a wound upon their world that revealed the flesh underneath had caseated to the bone. She’d been so disillusioned, so aggrieved by her elders and disappointed by her peers. 

Even Zixuan.

He had been a good man, her cousin. But he wasn’t strong of heart nor clever of mind. She was sorry to know he had died, but she wasn’t surprised. If he could not see the game his father had been playing, then there had never been any hope for him.

Luo Qingyang glanced towards the youth in front of her just slightly to the right. From the view of his back, she could almost picture his father, standing there with Suihua in his clutch, a proud son of the house of Jin. Time seemed to fluctuate, the eighteen years between then and now barely a drop in the ocean. If she breathed deeply enough and closed her eyes, she could almost be Mianmian again, could almost see Zixuan again. 

This was the first time Jin Ling had come to Cloud Recesses without his jiujiu. The boy was rightfully nervous, but this push towards independence was necessary. Sooner or later, baby bird had to learn how to fly. Like his father, Jin Rulan had a kind nature, even if he was awful at expressing his feelings. He was young, but the burden on his shoulders were heavy. For the mess that was the Jin Clan post Jin Guangyao's demise to fall into Jin Ling's lap was the best and worst case scenario. If he hadn’t risen to occasion, the subsidiary sects - vultures circling a carcass- would’ve torn Lanling apart. 

Perhaps that was why Luo Qingyang had agreed to return to her mother clan.

Wei Wuxian had arrived at her doorsteps one day some months after the incident at Guanyin Temple. Even on the outskirts of Yiling where she had lived, she had received news of what had happened. Wei Wuxian explained he’d been travelling, but between his subtle hints and unsubtle nudges, she had understood his intentions. 

Jin Ling had no one to help him man the helm. Jiang Cheng could only do so much without the other sects accusing him of overreaching into businesses beyond Yunmeng’s jurisdiction. Jin Ling was Jinlintai’s heir, not Lotus Pier’s, a fact that most people had slowly forgotten over the last decade. Childless, Jiang Cheng’s seat would one day go to his prime disciple, but not to his nephew.   

“Lan Zhan had written a decree for you, in case you encounter trouble going back. It’s a lot to ask for, I know. You’ve got such a lovely home here. But...you are needed, Mianmian, if you could forgive them.”

Forgive them? Luo Qingyang sighed. What’s there to forgive? She had left of her own volition, married well, and had a wonderful family. Her husband grumbled a bit about moving to the big city, but in the end he followed her back to her clan, just like he did to her night hunts. Her husband had been a merchant once, and she had no doubt he would thrive in Lanling. So far, she had not been proven wrong.  

“I am Jin Rulan’s biao’gu*. He is as much your nephew as he is mine. Tell His Excellency that I will return to Jinlintai shortly. He can be assured Sect Leader Jin will not be alone.”  

Lan Sizhui, Gusu Lan’s Head Disciple greeted them at the gates with a deep bow. Like his de-facto cousin, Sizhui had grown taller and more mature. 

“Welcome, Jin-zongzhu, Luo-zhangshi*, and honored guests. Cloud Recesses thank you for your patience. Please, come with me.” 

He gave Jin Ling a private smile, and the latter perked up immediately. “Lan-gongzi, you’re too kind. It’s been some time since we last spoke. I trust His Excellency is of good health and spirit?”

“Hanguang-jun is very well, thank you Jin-zongzhu.” In a lower tone, Sizhui commented. “I would’ve visited Lotus Pier with Wei-qianbei last harvest, but I was sent to Qinghe for sect business.” 

Boys playing at being men. 

Luo Qingyang hid a smile, slowing down her steps to give the youngsters some privacy from the party that followed them. 

Such innocence. How lovely it was. The boys she’d known were forced to grow up amidst fire and chaos, and did so in such brutal, unimaginable ways. So many had died, and those who had lived would never get to experience their ‘what-could’ve-been’s.

~

After, when the official businesses were settled and the disciples were dismissed, Luo Qingyang and Lan Wangji sat together in a quiet pavilion. Sizhui and A-Ling were some distances away down the lang, standing a reasonable distance apart and conversing politely. Though, it was more than obvious that they were itching to shed their gentlemanly exterior and scurry off to whatever shenanigans boys their age got up to when their guardians weren't looking.

Lou Qingyang observed the man sitting across from her and found some irony in the fact that they were strangely similar. Though talented in cultivation, Lan Wangji was not the type she would’ve imagined being Chief Cultivator, and certainly she herself could’ve never imagined that one day she would be chief of staff of Lanling Jin. 

Life dealt them both a funny set of cards and all they could do was keep playing. 

“I know Wei Ying had delivered my message, but I want to thank you properly in person, Luo-zhangshi, for agreeing to come back. Those early days after Jin Guangyao’s death was...precariously to say the least. The situation at Jinlintai is much better now thanks to your efforts.” 

“Hanguang-jun, we’ve known each other for a long time. Your husband has a scar on his chest from saving me from a Wen branding iron, and my daughter has received lucky money from the both of you. I think you can call me Miamian, if you’re comfortable with that.” She smiled, taking a sip of her tea. The scent of jasmine was calming after such a long, arduous morning.

Lan Wangji nodded, turning to his own cup. “We used to be classmates, now we are colleagues. Perhaps you are right. Formality in private is unnecessary.” 

“As for coming back, it is my duty. Jin Ling is bright and kind. With the right guidance, Lanling Jin Sect will recover. I knew him, Jin Guangyao. He was... nice to me, most of the time anyways. Whether that niceness had any truth behind it, I don’t know, but even then he’d been so unreadable. I only wish I’d seen through it all sooner. So you see, there is no need for thanks, Wangji-xiong. We Jins have done enough wrong against your family. Pray, how is Zewu-jun?” 

 “Brother is still in seclusion, but he is no danger to himself. He is better now. Time heals all wounds. Though...” 

Though knowing Lan Xichen, knowing what Lans were like when faced with tragic love, Lan Wangji wasn’t sure what his brother’s future would hold. 

Luo Qingyang nodded, understanding. Suddenly, their tranquility was interrupted by a disciple rounding the corner, footsteps heavy and voice decidedly too loud. 

“Sizhui, did you meet up with Young Mis -” 

Lan Jingyi’s holler aborted immediately when he saw who was sitting in the pavilion. “Erm... Hanguang-jun, Luo-zhangshi...” Smiling sheepishly, he bowed. 

“Sizhui.” Lan Wangji gave his son a pointed look, which the youth instantly understood. 

“Ah, Jin-zongzhu. Perhaps you would like for Jingyi and myself to you show around? Cloud Recesses’ scenery is really one of a kind this time of year.”  

“Yes, yes!" Jin Ling leaped to his feet from where he was sitting on the bench. He paused, casting a cautious glance towards his aunt, before clearing his throat and continuing in his most ‘adult’ voice. “Yes, I would like that. Lan-gongzi, Jingyi-xiong, if you wouldn't mind leading the way.” 

Luo Qingyang and Lan Wangji focused their attention back to their tea cups, both turning a blind eye to the way Sizhui and Rulan all but ran to join up with Lan Jingyi. 

They were out of sight in a heartbeat. 

“Do you know who they remind me of?” Luo Qingyang tilted her head as a sense of deja-vu washed over her. 

“Mn?” 

“Wei-gongzi, Nie-zongzhu, and Jiang-zongzhu, during our guest disciple days.” 

Our long summer. 

“Mn.”

“Remember when they got drunk on Emperor’s Smile? They really were audacious even then.” Luo Qingyang reminisced with a fond chuckle. 

“Yes. Uncle was furious.” The corner of Lan Wangji’s lips tilted upwards. 

Was that amusement she detected?! 

Mianman blinked, suddenly realizing, “Oh but you were amongst them too, if I recall correctly.” She gave him a sly smile. “The girls said you were discovered in a drunken coma in Wei-gongzi’s room the next morning. Is that true?” 

“Yes.” 

Oh the scandal! “How did they rope you into it?”

“I was willing,” confessed the venerated Hanguang-jun without so much as a blush. The shameless scoundrel! 

Luo Qingyang laughed, the sound ringing like a clear bell that cut through Cloud Recesses’ tranquility. 

“I suppose it doesn’t matter anymore; he’s your husband now. For the record, we all saw it coming.”

Lan Wangji raised a quizzical brow. “Oh? I did not think it was obvious.” 

“Well, not to the male disciples perhaps, but the female disciples, we all knew.” Luo Qingyang took a deep breath and sighed. “Sometimes I miss those days. Simpler times.” 

“Mn.” 

“My daughter has started cultivation lessons with the other children at Jinlintai. Someday she may visit here as guest disciple, as I once was. I hope her future will be a better one.” 

She met his gaze steadily, and the understanding in between had no need for further words. 

Lan Wangji smiled. 

“That is my wish as well.” 

  ~

biao’gu 表姑 = a type of aunt, a distant female cousin of one’s parent that’s in the same generation as them.

zhang’shi 长史= an antiquated government position that’s akin to Secretary General. 

[tidalsongprecure]

Tidal Song Precure! - Chapter 1

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Chapter One

A ripple in the waves! The heart of the sea, Cure Delphin!

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 “The sea is emotion incarnate. It loves, hates, and weeps. It defies all attempts to capture it with words and rejects all shackles. No matter what you say about it, there is always that which you can’t.”

 Emotion is a complicated thing. There can be good, bad, and all sorts of in-between. Like the sea, there’s an ebb and flow to one’s feelings.

It’s what we do with those feelings that matter.

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Palm trees rippled in the wind, dancing in the briny breeze. The early rays of morn shone through the windows, welcoming her with its warmth. And blue...that endless blue. From the vivid hue of the skies to the constant ebb and flow of the sea, it was everywhere.  

 “You’re positive you didn’t forget anything Mom?”

The girl’s mother, Haya, eyed her through the rearview mirror. “You asked that back on the ferry Kyoko, yes we have everything . Now, relax! We’re supposed to be enjoying ourselves. After all, living on Yumeshima will mean more time together!”

 “I know, I know.” Sighing, Kyoko Koizumi leaned back into her seat. “I’m just checking! It’s not the first time you or Dad have forgotten something important…”

 “That’s a bit harsh Kyoko,” her father, Sora, chimed in. “Your mother and I are perfectly capable of keeping track of ourselves, thank you very much.”

“Right…” Kyoko directed her attention to the glittering depths just outside her window, the blue in her eyes shining just as bright. “To think we get to live here...it’s incredible.”

“Yes, it’ll definitely be a change, but I’ve heard great things about this island! Studying the marine life here will be amazing…” Haya turned to face Kyoko, a sheepish smile on her face. “I’m sorry this was so sudden, sweetheart, to pick up everything in Kirakono in a few months...”

 “It’s alright! Working here has a lot of great opportunities for you and Dad, so I don’t mind, honest!” Even with her reassurance, her mother still seemed worried, so she changed the subject. “H-have you heard anything else interesting about Yumeshima?”

“Well, your dad heard about some stories of miracles happening on Yumeshima I think?”

“Miracles? What do you mean?”

“Something about... strange creatures in the sea? He said he read about it in some article, but you know how he is. Believes everything he sees online.”

“It’s not like that!” Sora interrupted, Kyoko jolting in her seat. “There’ve been local stories and everything! You ask any of the locals and they’ll tell you!”

“I bet...Dad, watch the road!” 

“Oh!” The car swerved to the side, before skidding to a stop in front of a neighbourhood lined with cottages, the car swerved to the side. “Thanks, Kyoko. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“Probably be in a hospital...”

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 Kyoko watched her parents and the movers file into their new home. It was pretty, she’d decided, with its white wooden walls and verdant vines trailing up the sides. It was positioned in the middle of the neighbourhood, and the dirt path next to the canal was smooth and fairly tidy. She stumbled out of the way as another worker bustled past, hefting a box nearly her size. 

“Looks like this may take a while…”

“Kyoko!” Her mother called her over, carrying a small lunch box.

“What is it? Do you need help moving stuff in?” Kyoko asked, stepping up onto the patio. The task looked a bit tedious, sure, but she wanted to be as helpful as possible. The sudden move was definitely more exhausting on her parents rather than her.

“What? No, no! I noticed you seemed a little bored so…” Haya pointed to the pathway leading into town, giving Kyoko’s shoulder a light squeeze. “Why don’t you explore for a bit? We were on the ferry for a while, and the car ride was a bit long too, so you must be itching to stretch your legs!”

 “Oh…uhm…” On one hand, exploring the island did sound tempting, and she was a bit stiff from all the travelling...but, she couldn’t. Her parents could definitely use her help and she didn’t want to leave them with all these boxes. That’d be wrong...wouldn't it? While she pondered this, muttering to herself, Haya slipped the container into her backpack -- complete with a dolphin keychain -- and gave her a gentle nudge.  

 “Quit worrying, sweetheart, go have fun! Leave the boring stuff to us adults.”

 “B-but…”

 Seeing she needed more encouragement, Haya added, “Think of it like...when you were little, and you went searching for those dolphins! It’ll be an adventure!” Of course, she had to bring that up. Cheeks burning, Kyoko rushed down the steps of the patio.

 “Alright, alright I’ll go! Just, please don’t mention that story!”

 “Yeah, yeah. Make sure to stick to the path! And be back by noon!”

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 “Why would Mom send me out here? Where should I even go?” Kyoko squinted at the map she’d downloaded earlier. “If I follow the path here, I should reach the town eventually…” After scrutinizing the map a little longer, she nodded and shoved her phone back into her bag. “May as well figure out my way around here, Mom and Dad won't be able to drive me around, so…”

 That’s right, she was fifteen now. She couldn’t rely on her parents anymore  -- not that she did , really, but it'd be best to be able to take care of herself, right? Her parents had always been busy with their work (marine biology was no joke), and as much as she loved how passionate they were, it did make spending time together a little difficult.

But it’s okay! Now that she was fifteen, she could really be independent. She’d start her final year of junior high in a few days, clean up around the house more, maybe get a job…

“They don’t have time to worry about me anymore.”

As Kyoko reached the town, she was greeted with the clean scent of brine. It wafted around her, removing any lingering fatigue from her body. The ocean has always had that effect on her, ever since she was little. A brief moment by the sea could instantly lift her spirits. So, instead of touring the town, she headed straight for the beach, kicking off her sneakers. Cautiously, she dipped her toes near the shoreline and allowed the water to wash over her. It was a bit chilly, but compared to the fervour of the sun, it was a pleasant contrast. The momentary peace was interrupted when a sudden flash appeared behind her.

“What was that?!” Grabbing her shoes and bag, she followed the flashes down the beach. The source of light came from a stony cave near the edge of the coast. By the time she’d neared the entrance, the light had faded. “The light came from here...I wonder where it leads.” Kyoko ran her hand over the rocky opening, about to enter when-

“Hey! What do you think you’re doing?”

 She jumped, nearly smacking her head against the stone entrance. The shout had come from a girl behind her, fluffy blonde hair framing her face. Her light tan only served to highlight her sharp golden eyes even more, which were staring Kyoko down. She was barely taller, but she seemed to tower above her. Could demeanour really do that alone? After taking in her appearance, Kyoko concluded.

“Oh, wow, she’s gorgeous! But,  she looks pretty annoyed…”

“You DO know you’re not supposed to be in there right? Are you trying to get yourself hurt?!” 

 Maybe it was the heat, or simply the blonde girl’s intensity, but all the commotion made Kyoko’s head swim. “I, uhm, I think there’s been a misunderstanding I just…” she babbled out. By the high arch of the blonde’s brow, it was clear her words weren’t getting through.

Before the situation could escalate any further, another girl approached the blonde from behind, lightly tapping her shoulder. Her lilac tresses seemed to float down her back, and when she removed her sunglasses, purple eyes surrounded by thick lashes blinked curiously at them. Kyoko squirmed under the captivating gaze, shying away from the pair. Even her complexion was flawless and fair, seeming to glow under the sunlight. They were like...the sun and moon, she thought, with their unique radiance.

“She’s beautiful as well! What I’d give to look like that...”

“Emi, I heard shouting, is everything alright?” The girl finally noticed Kyoko and scanned her over. Kyoko braced herself, preparing for the worst but rather than berating, the girl smiled. The gentle gesture allowed Kyoko to relax a bit. “You don’t look familiar, are you new here?”

 “I-I am! I just moved here today, with my parents…”

The calmer girl whispered in Emi’s ear, who continued to scowl at Kyoko. After she’d finished, she turned back to Kyoko, a sympathetic smile on her face. “I’m really sorry about my friend here. She’s not mad at you, she was just worried.”

“I was NOT worried.” 

 “Right...anyway, it’s best if you stay clear of Eudora Cove. There have been erosion issues, so it’s not safe. Wouldn’t want you getting hurt.” 

“Eudora Cove?” Kyoko echoed. She pointed to the cave’s entrance, “Named after one of the Nereids from Greek mythology? Strange name for a place like this…”

“Weird name or not,” Emi added, scuffing her sandals against the sand. “We’ve always been told it’s dangerous as kids,” She refused to look Kyoko in the eye, and she pursed her lips in a penitent pout. “I assumed you knew, that’s all.” Emi turned back to her friend, “Yuyu, we should get going.”

 “Ah yes, we should be heading back,” she waved to Kyoko, “It was nice meeting you. Maybe we’ll see you around?”

 Pink flooded Kyoko’s cheeks. “Yeah, see you…” Once the girls were out of earshot, she sighed. That certainly wasn’t the best first impression, but still, she definitely saw something . Why didn’t the other girls notice it? A part of her wanted to run away, to heed the girls’ advice but…

“I’ve got to know what that light was!”

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Thoroughly mortified but determined to see it through, Kyoko entered the cavern. Seashells and stones studded the stony walls, like stars on a clear night. Soft sand blanketed the floor of the cave, which was surprisingly clear of any tracks. “That’s strange...” 

“Your Highness, please! We don’t have time - zu!”

“I’m trying, but it’s hard!!”

Voices echoed from within the cave, and splashing could be heard further within. Following the noise, Kyoko was led to a clearing, in which a pool of cerulean shimmered. She hid behind a nearby rock, watching the commotion warily. Near the pool, she spotted a baby sea turtle facing the water. “That's weird, why would a sea turtle be here? It’s not with any other hatchlings, I hope it wasn’t abandoned...”

The pool’s waters began to gleam and bubble, green light filling the cavern. Kyoko shielded her eyes, and when the light faded, a girl came into view. Her long hair was the shade of sea glass, and pointed ears peaked out of her hair. She donned a gown of...seafoam? After brushing her hair out of her face, she attempted to stand up.

Attempted.

The girl wobbled, flailing like a fish out of water. When it appeared like she was about to gain her balance, she’d start to sway again. Kyoko’s stress swelled as she watched her. “Looks like she could use some help…” She stepped out from her hiding place, approaching the girl hesitantly. “Uh, excuse me? Do you need some help?”

The girl and the turtle turned to Kyoko, panic etched on their faces. Just as suddenly as she appeared, the girl dove back into the pool. As soon as she touched the water, the clearing was doused in light. As the light faded and bubbling died down, the turtle leapt onto Kyoko’s face.

It did what now?

Kyoko grasped onto the turtle’s shell, trying to pry her off. “I have the human Princess! Get away while you can - zu!” The sea turtle called. Even with her small flippers, her hold was surprisingly tight. 

“You can TALK ?!” Kyoko screeched -- to the best of her ability since the turtle was covering her mouth. She stumbled, scrambling to shake the creature off. Eventually, the turtle lost her grip and went spinning into the sand, finally landing on her shell. Kyoko scrambled to set her upright, then cupped her in her hands. “I’m so sorry! Are you okay?”

“Put me down! Lemme go - zu! I will not be caught by a human, I refuse - zu!” The turtle protested, squirming wildly. To her ‘request’, Kyoko set the animal on the sand. While she did so, something else caught her eye. A ring of keys made from...coral sat next to the pool. There were an array of colours, from pearly white to ocean blue to sunshine yellow.

“These probably belong to that girl...speaking of, she hasn’t come up for air…” She knelt and leaned closer to the water. “Are you okay down there? You dropped your...keys?” Kyoko trailed off, stopping as a figure rose from the pool. It was the girl from before, only the dress she wore was gone. In its place was a light sea green top, and a slender, sea green tail in place of legs.

“A tail...instead...of legs….tail...no legs…does that mean?”

“You’re a...a mermaid!”

 The mermaid had her hands in front of her, outstretched in apprehension. Despite the attempt to sound commanding, her voice shook as she spoke. “P-put the keys down, Terra Dweller and step away from the water.” 

Kyoko did as she was told, following the directions in a haze. So much was happening, it was hard to process. All she could think about was the creature before her. She watched as the mermaid heaved herself onto the pool’s edge. “The Keys of Pontoporeia...I don’t think they’re damaged.” After taking the keys, the mermaid groaned before flopping onto the sand. “Azuuuure....don’t you have ANYTHING I can eat? I’m starving!”

“Not QUITE the reaction I was expecting.”

 The turtle, Azure, shuffled toward the mermaid with as much attitude as she could muster. “I’ve told you, Your Highness, I don’t have anything - zu. We left Azora in such a rush, food was the last thing on my mind - zu!”

“What?! But I’ve been swimming for days!” The mermaid whined, sinking into the sand again. In a huff,  she smacked her tail against the pool’s surface. “How am I supposed to shift if I have no strength?!”

“I think she’s uh, stomping her foot...or FIN I guess...”

“Uhm, if you’re hungry, I have some food I could share..?” Kyoko pulled out the container her mom had given her and popped the lid off. Inside were little sandwiches shaped like fish, with various fillings inside. “The taiyaki sandwiches we made, of course!”

 “Taiyaki?” They parrotted.

  Kyoko handed a sandwich to each of them. Warily, the mermaid sniffed it, gave it a lick, and then a tiny nibble. She stared the morsel down, before shoving the whole sandwich in her mouth. Kyoko could only gape as the mermaid scarfed it down, and turned to her with eyes filled with longing. She handed her another, settling down next to the pool. “I can’t believe mermaids are real… What are you doing here? Where did you come from? Are there more mermaids nearby? Ah- ” She caught herself mid-ramble. “I’m sorry for all the questions...it’s just so incredible!”

Polishing off her meal, the mermaid agreed, “I feel the same! I mean, I thought all Terra Dwellers - ah, HUMANS,  were just yucky pirates, but you’re really nice!”

“Oh! Uhm, thank you...?” 

 Giggling and splashing her fins happily, she raised her tail toward Kyoko in greeting, who shook it awkwardly. “My name is Odessa, it’s nice to meet you!” 

“I’m Kyoko, Kyoko Koizumi…”

 The sea turtle flew up and landed on Odessa’s shoulder. “Your Highness, if you’re going to introduce yourself, at least do so properly - zu!”

“Oh Azure, there’s no need to -”

 “Nonsense! No matter where you are, you’re still Azoran royalty - zu!” With Odessa rolling her eyes and Azure pointedly clearing her throat, she declared, “This is Her Highness, Princess Odessa Alagona of the First Pearl’s Boon, and you should address her as such - zu!”

“And Azure is being way too formal! Just Odessa is fine.”

“So not only are you a mermaid,” Kyoko began, “But a princess too?” Her dad had been right...for once. She’d felt that there was something weird about this island, and now she’d seen his ‘supposed miracle’ with her own eyes. She wanted to ask so much, but she didn’t want to frighten her again, so she started with one: “What are you doing here?”

“Princess, is it really wise to share so much with this Terra Dweller?” Azure asked. “You don’t know her very well - zu!”

“But...she seems really nice, maybe she can help us!” After positioning her tail comfortably, she began to explain, “My big sister, Meriella...she sent me here for my safety. You see, our home -- Azora Kingdom, it's in danger! A horrible wave of cursed ink spread throughout the sea, the palace was attacked, all to take the Cordis Shell…”

“The Cordis Shell? What’s that?”

“The purest source of sea magic. It’s, like, SUPER powerful. It was gifted to our kingdom eons ago but was taken away for safekeeping a few years back. Only the king and queen -- my parents -- know where it is, but they fled during the Shoal’s attack.” Odessa sighed, sadly swishing her tail in the water. “I just hope they’re okay. Meriella and the others too...I didn’t see all the damage, but I know that the Shoal is strong and won’t stop until they get their fins on the Shell!” 

 Cursed ink, magic shells, and mermaid royalty? That was….quite a bit to digest. Kyoko didn’t know where to start, but she could tell Odessa was sad at least. She patted the mermaid’s tail, her gaze filled with warmth. “That sounds terrifying...it must be hard to be so far from home, in an unfamiliar world like this.”

“It’s okay! Once I find the Precure, everything will be alright!” 

“Precure?”

Azure sighed, frowning deeply at the princess. “Your Highness, you’re not still going on about that, are you? They’re just a merfolk legend, a story for guppies! Those fictional heroes can’t help us - zu!”

“Yes, they CAN Azure!” She shouted with a smack of her tail. “They’re real, and once I find them, I can finally help the kingdom! Meriella, Syreni, even Kaliani won’t have to worry about me anymore! Gasping, Odessa turned to Kyoko, who had been quietly listening to her woes. “You! You could help me! If I’m going to find the Precure, I’ll need to go on land. Let’s look for them together!”

Looking for the Precure...it sounded important, something that couldn’t afford mistakes or errors. What if she made things worse for Odessa? She couldn’t take that risk, she’d been through so much already. “But, I don’t know the island very well. I just moved here, so...I’m DEFINITELY not the best for this.” 

“Oh...even so, just someone to help get my land legs! Please, Kyoko! You’re the only one who can! It’s gotta be you!”

“I’m really sorry, I wish I could help…but I can’t. You shouldn’t entrust me with something like this.” She gathered her things, trying to ignore Odessa’s pleas. Sliding her backpack on, she turned to the princess once more. “I have to go, I’m so sorry. But, I hope you find what you’re looking for.”

It’s better this way...right?

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 Deep below the surface, within the Azoran seas, trouble was brewing. But not for those who feared them, but the members of the Shoal of Lament themselves. 

“What do you MEAN she escaped?!”

“Miss, it’s not our fault. That rotten crown princess sent her away before we could ask her anything.” Nerida explained, inspecting her slim, eellike tail. The mermaid had deep blue hair, and skin with a peculiar purple tint. After adjusting the gold jewelry she modelled, she pointed her fins toward her subordinate. “If you must blame anyone, blame Calypso. He spent so much time flaunting his Sirens, we missed our chance!”

The accused merman feigned a gasp. “How could I not?” His blue complexion allowed his green tentacles to glow in the darkness. “My Sirens had so much fun tearing up the city! You wound me, my love.”

“I am NOT your love.”

“It doesn’t matter now, the princess should be far from Azora at this point,” another merman added. He sported a mop of dirty blond hair and a tawny seahorse tail. “We should locate her right away. She’s the last member of the royal family, she must know of the Cordis Shell’s whereabouts.”

“My thoughts precisely. We don’t have time for all this squabbling!” another mermaid exclaimed, smacking her fist against the craggy wall behind her. Her navy blue tail was rough, fins firm and as frightening as a shark. She handed a ring of coral keys to their mistress, bowing. “Miss, I stole these from Princess Syreni. I know the royals use them to pass into other seas in the realm, perhaps we can use these to pursue the princess.”

“Excellent.” She held her hands over the keys, and with a small spell, the once radiant keys were dyed an inky black. “Take these Nerida, and find that minnow. Make her regret ever leaving the sea.”

“Of course Miss.”

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After today, she could never look at the ocean the same. 

How could she? A whole new world was under the surface, a world in danger, and she’d refused to help it. “I wonder how Odessa is...I hope she’s okay.” Kyoko muttered, looking out to sea from her balcony. She shivered a bit, the ocean breeze nipping at her skin.   

Unbeknownst to her, Haya had slipped into her room to say goodnight, but when her mother saw her, looking to the water with longing, she could sense something was up. Her mother joined her on the balcony, draping a blanket over Kyoko's shoulders. “It’s still early spring y’know? Don’t want you catching a cold.”

“Oh, thanks.”

They took a moment to watch the sea, admiring its glistening surface, studded with moonlight. Kyoko’s gaze lingered, but she eventually turned to face her mother. “Mom? Could I ask you something?”

After getting a nod from her mother, she took a deep breath. “So...let’s say you have this friend right? And they really REALLY want your help with something. But this thing is SO important, that if you mess up a LOT of people could get hurt. So you say no, because this friend has gone through so much already, and the last thing they need is you making things worse! Uhm...that’s okay, right?”

Haya laughed, “That’s a big ‘something’ sweetie.” She returned her gaze to the water, deep in thought. “Does this friend trust you?”

Do they trust her? What kind of question is that? “I mean…I guess so. Why does that matter?”

“Well, I just think that if this friend trusts you, has confidence in you...then you should share in that trust, and have some confidence in yourself. I bet they believe in you for a reason, you just can’t see why...At least, that’s what my father used to tell me! You remember, don’t you Kyoko?”

Kyoko nodded, “Yes...Grandpa used to say that a lot…” Her grandfather, Ryūjin always made her feel like she could do anything…

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“Come on Kyoko! Just a little further!”

Kyoko looked over the boat, eyeing the dolphin warily. She reached out a hand, then retracted it, shaking. “I can’t do it! I’m too scared! What if I hurt it?” 

Ryujin smiled, taking Kyoko’s dainty hand in his calloused one. “You don’t know that for sure kiddo. I want you to try though, okay?”

“But…”

“Pretty please?”

“...Okay.” Trembling, she stretched out again and this time, the dolphin nuzzled against her palm, clicking happily. Kyoko gasped, staring at her hand in awe. “I...I did it! Grandpa, I did it!” 

Laughing, Ryujin scooped the little girl, hugging her tightly. “I knew you could kiddo! Just took a bit of courage, huh?”

“Mhmm!”

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 He’d always stressed the importance of helping others, he wouldn’t have wanted her to run away. He’d want her to face this. If not for herself, then for Odessa at least. 

“Mom I, uh...I need to go.”

“Now? But it’s dark and-”

“It’s important! I’ll be back soon, but...there’s something I need to do!”

“Something only I can do.”

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 As Kyoko ran back to the beach, she could see the sky darken and the waves thrash against the shore. It was like the sea was in distress, she thought, skidding to a stop in front of Eudora Cove. “Odessa? Are you there?” she called, but to no avail. “Where could she be?” Turning away from the coastal cavern, she noticed Azure squirming in the sand. She knelt next to the sprite, gently setting her upright. “Azure, I’m sorry I didn’t see you there! Is everything okay? Where’s Odessa?”

Azure pointed weakly to the water, “Over there-zu...but, it’s not safe.”

“Not safe? Why, what’s going on?”

Just then, Odessa burst out of the sea, scrambling to shore. Her tail and arms were littered with scrapes, and from her panicked expression, she seemed to be being...pursued? Soon after Odessa surfaced, another mermaid followed - one with peculiar purple pigmentation, and an aura so ominous it made Kyoko tremble.

“I told you Nerida, I don’t know where it is! Only my parents do, honestly!” Odessa spluttered, trembling as the mermaid drew near.  

“In that case,” Nerida snapped, holding her hand over the rough waters. “You’ll have to tell me where your parents are hiding, won’t you?” More creatures rose from the deep, each armed with an eel’s tail like their commander’s, along with webbed hands and fishy ears. Even with their snarling and hissing, their eyes appeared dismal and bleak. Two Sirens slithered onto land, each taking a hold of Odessa’s arms. Nerida joined them on the beach, pointing a bony finger at the young mermaid. “If you tell me now,” she sang, electric sparks dancing on her finger, “It’ll be less painful…”

Kyoko couldn’t bear to watch any longer. She had to do something ! Scanning the beach, she spotted a long, sturdy piece of driftwood. Snatching it up -- and without thought -- she charged the Sirens. Before they could react, she smacked each of them on the head. They roared in pain, releasing Odessa from their hold.

“Kyoko?! What are you doing here?”

“What I should’ve done before!”

“Well well, what’s this? A Terra Dweller?” Nerida drawled, smirking as Kyoko tried to drag Odessa away. She laughed harder as Kyoko stumbled, panting. “This doesn’t concern you, child. You’re even shaking! What do you think YOU can do?” 

 There really was no reason for Kyoko to do this. She knew that well enough. The whole situation was out of her control, and much bigger than her. But still…

But still…!

 “I...I don’t know what I can do to change this, but...I’d rather do something than nothing! I believe in myself that much, at least…”

With tears pricking her eyes, Kyoko braced herself, fearing for the fated blow…

Which never came.

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Kyoko didn’t notice when the world had melted away, all she saw now was an endless rosy hue. A few bubbles floated by her, and she reached out to touch one. It burst with the contact, dispersing into splashes of light. This world was so peaceful, she’d never felt more at ease. She floated along in this place, savouring the feeling. 

“Kyoko.” A voice called, one scarily similar to her own. 

“Who are you?” 

“I’m...you! Sort of. You’ve taken the first step, and I couldn't be more proud of you.”

“The first step? The first step to what? What is this place?”

 “Don’t worry about that now, but take this. It’ll help you protect those you love.”

Another bubble floated before Kyoko, and when it burst, a necklace shone in its place. Kyoko held it, turning over the shell-shaped pendant in her hands. “But... what am I supposed to do with this?”

“You got here by believing in yourself, I’m sure you understand what comes next. Trust yourself, Kyoko, those feelings will carry you far…”

Despite the coyness of...herself, Kyoko acknowledged that she got here by believing in herself.  And that was something she hadn’t done in a long time…

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Kyoko held the shell close to her heart, calling out the words that would change her.

“Precure! Marine Reflection!”

The Lapis Locket popped open, and a flurry of pink fish burst out. She was bathed in a sea of light. When the light faded, she was floating in the ocean! But she wasn’t afraid, this was too incredible! She relished the moment, beaming as she reached a hand outward. As she outstretched her hand, the pod of fish returned, as if she’d summoned them.

“Would you mind helping me please?” Kyoko asked with a smile. They swam around different parts of her, starting with her ankles. A pair of pearly pink heels appeared on her feet, which Kyoko admired.

Next was her body. The fish spiralled around her hips, and a pink and blue skirt materialized with a loud pop. The same happened with her chest, and she donned a matching tube top. 

The fish swam to Kyoko’s head, lightly pecking her there. She couldn’t help giggling as they kissed her, laughter bubbling as she spun. Her hair began to glow and then grow. It brightened in hue, save for the blue ombré she now had. Bubbles weaved through one part of her hair, braiding and sealing it with a large seashell. 

As the pod swam away, one little fish lingered behind, planting a kiss on her cheek before departing. Returning the favour, Kyoko blew bubbles and kisses to the fish. The bubbles shone, turning into a ring of pearls on her neck as well as corresponding earrings. 

“The locket! I almost forgot!” With a wave of her finger, the Lapis Locket appeared, its string dissolved into seafoam and the shell glittering on her chest.

 She floated within a large pink oyster shell, and as it eased open, she struck a pose, declaring her new title. 

“ The heart of the sea! Making waves, Cure Delphin!”

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 Kyoko, rather, Cure Delphin hovered over the sand, before landing daintily. “This is really...me?” She examined her body, admiring the rosy glow she emitted and the overwhelming power surging through her. 

“I...I really did it! I found one of the Precure!” Odessa cheered, slapping her tail down with enthusiasm. “Azure, did you see? I told you they were real!”

Azure could only nod, her eyes wide. “Yes I... guess they are real-zu.” 

Nerida was equally shocked. How could a simple Terra Dweller, let alone a CHILD, become one of the warriors of merfolk legend? She didn't have time to mull it over, all that mattered was dealing with the nuisance before she could handle her powers. “Sirens! After her!”

Charging their tails, sparks bursting from the tips, the Sirens surged forward. Rather than applying the miraculous, magical abilities, she’d been blessed with, Delphin squeaked, and took off running. Azure and Odessa watched the ‘heroine’ scamper off, the Sirens slithering after her.

“Oh yes, what a legendary warrior - zu…”

“Hey! She’ll get the hang of it! I hope…”

The Sirens continued to chase Delphin, and soon she was surrounded. They inched closer, growling and gnashing their teeth. Adrenaline and fear overtook her, and in a desperate attempt to evade harm, she leapt into the air, just as the Sirens lunged for her.

While she was in the sky, Delphin blathered on, pulling at her hair. “This is crazy, this is totally crazy! What am I DOING?! How can I fight those… those THINGS when I can’t even control my - AH!”

Delphin shrieked as she plummeted to the ground, but in some twisted manner, managed to land upright. A plume of sand billowed from her landing, the dust clouding the beach. Delphin stumbled out of the cloud, shaking her head.

“Delphin!” Odessa shouted, rubbing the sand from her eyes. “Precure aren’t just strong! They have special powers too! If you want to beat the Sirens, you’ve gotta use those powers!”

“Even if you tell me that...” After clearing the sand from their vision, a horde of Sirens dove at her. Panicked, she flailed her arms, water bubbling from her hands as she did so. Just before they could touch her, the water rippling near her palms turned into a rushing wave. “Oh. So, that’s what you mean by powers,” she added, watching the wave crash onto the Sirens.

Brimming with self-confidence, Delphin engaged the marine monsters. Jumping to elude their talons, she dug her shimmery heel into one's head. Using that as a platform, she leapt off and rammed her fist into the sand. The force of her punch created another tidal wave, protecting her and sending the Sirens back with the swell. Delphin beamed, this was amazing! She’d never felt so powerful, it was so different from her usually spineless self. She felt confident! She felt strong!

She felt one of the Sirens whip her with its tail, sending her tumbling into the sand. Stinging discomfort shook her body, and she nearly heaved from the pain. 

“Okay Delphin, don’t get cocky now…There are too many to keep up this fight. I need to get rid of them all at once. But how?” 

As she peeled herself off the ground, her eyes fell onto the water before her. Despite the battle, the waves had continued their ebb and flow.

“Ocean...move…that’s it!”

“I hope this works…” Clasping her hands to her heart, she envisioned her powers like water: powerful like a tsunami, yet gentle as a babbling brook. Her mind was clear, and in a bold voice she called out...

“Precure...!”

Her Lapis Locket began to glow, dousing the sea in a roseate light. As she stretched out her arms, a pod of dolphins -- composed entirely of water-- swam next to her. Frolicking in a pink wave, the dolphins rushed past. One dolphin swam underneath, bumping into her and she tumbled onto its back. Now leading the fray, she pointed towards her target.

“Delphin Migration!”

With that declaration, the pod and wave engulfed the Sirens. Delphin cheered as her target was drenched, an endearing smile on her face. The creatures collapsed, impotent yet blissful. 

Delphin joined them, crumbling into the sand. A wave of seafoam washed over her, and she was Kyoko Koizumi once more. She touched the pink shell hanging from her neck, tracing her finger over its glossy surface. “This locket...I should probably hold onto it.”

Nerida, however, gaped at her Sirens in shock, appalled by their weakened state. Whatever that... Precure (oh, how she loathed saying that) did had rendered her minions powerless! What was she supposed to tell her mistress? Nerida snarled at the human girl, smirking as the Terra Dweller flinched. “This isn’t over, little human. I’ll be back for you and the princess.” Brandishing a set of coral keys  -- similar to Odessa’s, save for their inky black colour -- she snapped her fingers. The weary Sirens followed their superior, dragging themselves back to the sea. As they sank below the surface, Kyoko knew their return was inevitable; The fact alone made her tremble. What if today was just a fluke? Would she be able to do this again? What if-

Something damp touched her back, and she let out an unearthly shriek. She scrambled away, frantic but relaxed upon realization. It was only Odessa, her tail must’ve brushed against her back. Limpid tears dotted Odessa’s eyes, and a warbled smile was etched on her face. “Odessa? Are you alright-OH!” The mermaid leapt onto her, squeezing her tightly. 

“Kyoko, that was AMAZING! You were incredible! You were like...BAM...and SPLASH...and then WHOOSH!”

Azure followed suit, “I’ve never seen anything like that before -zu! Now Azora has a chance!” 

“Yeah! Everything’s going to be okay, thanks to Kyoko!”

Kyoko watched as Odessa and Azure cheered, admiring their innocent delight. Maybe she was a bit innocent too, thinking that she could do something like this. But, they believed in her.

Maybe that’s all she needed.

“I think....things will be alright. I guess I’ll have to wait and see.”  

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Tidal Song Precure! Chapter Two Preview

As Odessa gets to know her saviour, her admiration for her grows, and she yearns to become a precure too. In order to prove herself, she decides to venture on land...alone. What adventures await her on the sandy streets of Yumeshima?

Next time on "Tidal Song Precure!": Azora's boon! The voice of the sea, Cure Lagoon!

[wellhellotragic]

Absolution (1/4)

Summary: It's a tale as old as time. A princess on the run. The fastest ship in the king's armada tasked with keeping her safe. The princess falling in love with the ship's lieutenant. It's the stuff fairy tales are made of. Or is it?

A Halloween fic.

A/N: Yup, that's the title I went with, because nothing else sounded right...If a nameless goose can become an overnight sensation, then this fic can stand with no title.. or something

Also on AO3 if that’s what floats your boat.

Once upon a time, in a kingdom located deep between the land and sea, lived a king that ruled with an iron fist. A king that was feared by all that lived in his lands. For over thirty years he sat upon the throne, a widower with a runaway son whom looked little like him. The lands he owned soon fell to ruin. The ground beneath his castle turned brown, the trees died out, and all was barren. A wasteland.

The king blamed his subjects, decreeing that they weren’t working hard enough to maintain the crops. That they weren’t hunting hard enough to bring home meat. He threatened the peasants with higher taxes and jail. Still, the lands fell further into disrepair.

But just when all hope seemed lost, the bells rang on a dark and rainy night. The king was dead. Rumors swirled. Failing health. Poison. Murder . No one ever knew for sure.

Everyone in the kingdom gathered for the late king’s funeral. His body was wrapped in shrouds, set ablaze as the small rowboat was pushed out to sea, letting the waves carry it deeper and deeper into the great blue ocean. They came from miles away, everyone that had ever been terrorized by King George. They came not to pay their respects, but to rejoice. The tyrant was truly dead.

The most shocking part of his death, though, was the return of his estranged son. It was no secret that in recent years the tension between the two men had grown past the point of breaking. Yet there was James, standing on the beach, watching as the flames of his father disappeared over the horizon.

There were whispers about James’s return as well. That his return coinciding with George's death was suspicious, not that the people minded in anyway. The castle's official statement was that upon realizing that King George would not make it through the night, their best rider was dispatched to fetch the prince.

The prince's presence wasn't the only thing that had people talking though. No, it was the woman that accompanied him. The woman that bore a ring with the family's crest upon the side, etched into the metal that held the late queen’s wedding stone. It was clear to all with eyes that the prince had taken a wife during his time away.

At first, not much had been known about her, but as time passed, people learned her name. Snow White. Bandit and traitor to the crown of a neighboring kingdom. Yet still, the people minded not. Not after everything they'd borne witness to under the ruling of King George. Not when wealth was returning to the kingdom. Not when taxes were decreasing and crops were returning to their former glory. Not when the food and work was shared equally among all who lived in the kingdom. Not when they saw their new king beside them day in and day out willing to get dirty to plow the lands, or when they saw their new queen leaving each morning with a bow and sheath of arrows on her back, only to return each evening with a load of guards following behind with a cart full of deer for dinner.

The next time the bells rang out was to announce the birth of a new princess. A young girl named Emma. Even as a child, it was obvious that she would be beautiful. As her eyes settled into a shade of green that rivaled the emerald stone in Snow White’s ring, and when her hair turned to gold, her beauty only increased.

The princess also had the best tutors money could buy, and the best manners that could be taught. She was just as kind and smart as she was lovely.

But things can never stay as they were. Times change and prosperity ends. War comes.

As the princess's eighteenth birthday neared, what should have been a celebration soon became the day most dreaded. For the Evil Queen, known better as Regina to Snow White, ordered her troops to bear down on the kingdom, seizing the lands around Misthaven. Her armies had cut off all routes of escape. The food supplies dwindled and all hope once again seemed lost.

*************

King James looked around the small round table they used for their council meetings. Everyone had shown up, many taking great risk towards their own safety. Regina's guards were everywhere along the borders, imprisoning people they felt were close to the king and queen, and murdering the ones they deemed useless. Some of the council members had to sneak past her guards with the use of the very same magic Regina possessed.

The Blue Fairy had used a portion of what little fairy dust remained, dangerously depleting the fairies’ stockpile. Ever since Regina had arrived, she'd done what she could to collapse all of the mine entrances along the border, blocking the dwarves from harvesting the crystals needed to make the dust. Only one mine remained open, and most of the crystals had already been extracted.

Things were grim, and James worried that he and his wife might just have to surrender the kingdom to Regina. Naturally, it wasn't what he wanted to do, but if it was the only way to ensure the safety of his people, he'd be willing to set his pride aside.

Of course, there was also the matter of Emma. Regina's descension on their kingdom had been nearly eighteen years in the making. A series of calculated attacks with the sole purpose of destroying everything that James and Snow held near. He knew that if Regina won, that she'd stop at nothing to destroy Snow, and the fastest way to do so would be to harm their daughter.

“Surely there has to be something we can do? This can’t be it?” His wife may have hid behind a face of strength, but James could feel her hand shaking next to his on the table.

Snow had taken it the worst of everyone. She felt that everything was her fault. The result of a childhood indiscretion. A mistake. One that an entire kingdom and thousands would be forced to pay penance for.

James refused though. The fault laid with Regina and her alone. She was the one that let the darkness into her heart. She was the one that allowed it to fester, unchecked and unabated. And in the end, she would lose. He just wasn’t yet sure how.

“I’m afraid it is Your Majesties.” James almost missed seeing the small blue fairy floating above Ruby’s shoulder. “We’ve only one bag of fairy dust left, and it won’t be enough to hold Regina’s army off. It’s barely enough magic for one small task.”

He took stock of the room, hoping against all odds that someone, anyone, might have a plan, but no one spoke. Even Grumpy, who was usually the first to complain, was silent.

“Well that’s it then isn’t it? Regina’s won.” The defeat in Snow’s voice nearly broke James.

“Wait, do you smell that?” Ruby looked to her grandmother for confirmation. “Do you hear something?”

The old woman stood from her seat, walking to the window, looking out towards the sea.

“Come here girl. These old eyes aren’t what they used to be.”

Granny moved aside as Ruby took her place, the rest of the council room crowding behind her.

“It’s a ship. A large ship at that!”

James grumbled. The last of his naval ships had been dispatched weeks ago, seeking help from any other kingdoms that might be able to provide aid. Even Glowerhaven, the closest by far, would still be another week’s journey to reach. There was no way any of their ships could have returned so quickly.

Which only meant one thing. The ship in question was no ally to the crown. It was most likely pirates, looking to seize upon an opportunity, thinking them weak and easy prey for the taking.

“We may be defenseless against Regina, but I’ll be damned if I let pirates upon my shores.”

“But Your Highness, they’re wearing your colors, flying your flag. It’s one of your vessels.”

James snatched the viewing glass from Grumpy’s hand, wanting to see for himself. It wasn’t a vessel he’d ever laid eyes on before. It wasn’t one of his, yet Grumpy was right. His kingdom’s flag waved high on the main mast for all to see.

Part of him wondered if it was a trick. If Regina had sent them in, hoping the castle would lower its defenses, only to be seized in the middle of the night by her men. But on the off chance that the ship wasn’t Regina’s, it may also have been their only hope.

For nearly an hour, James stood at the window, watching the men aboard the ship as they stood at attention, never once stepping across the gangplank that had been set out. They never sent anyone to approach the castle, nor did they made any move to make their presence known.

Eventually, the tension in the room became too much, forcing James to send a rider to the shore. He watched as the horse approached the docks, the rider dismounting and speaking with the crew, before turning back and riding hard for the castle.

The rider barely had time to knock before Snow ran and threw the doors open, eager to hear what he’d learned. The ship was named the Jewel of the Realm, and its men swore that they’d once pledged an oath to Misthaven, that she ship belonged to Their Majesty’s armada, and that they stood ready for orders.

James wasted no time in heading for the library, looking for any indication of a ship by that name in his possession. He’d never heard of her before, nor had any of the other council members. After finally locating the ledger with a detailed list of all of the ships, he looked through the last two pages, twice, letting his fingers drift over the names of each ship he owned. There was no mention of her, though. It was a trick.

Just as he was about to shut the book, ready to ride out to the ship and gut each man onboard himself, he heard his wife gasp next to him. He followed her eyes, seeing the name listed on a page, the only ship on that docket. Jewel of the Realm - special assignment. James recognized the script as George’s handwriting.

The Jewel was his, as were the men he witnessed standing at attention. But the issue of the secret mission tugged at his gut. The men had been sent out by the previous king nearly twenty years before. The men he saw were barely older than Emma, many of them clearly not original members of the crew. Could he trust them? Men that had likely never stepped foot on his lands.

Would they be willing to die for their king the way he knew his other naval officers would be? Would it even matter? What use could thirty men be against Regina’s army of thousands?

James looked to his wife, seeing the same fears upon her pale face.

The two of them returned to the council chambers, explaining to the others that the ship was indeed theirs, sharing his concerns with them about the vessel’s whereabouts for the last two decades. After much debate, it was decided that they were out of options and the Jewel was their last hope.

Everyone agreed that the ship was no match for Regina’s troops, and all were lost as to how the Jewel could help, until a small voice spoke up from the back of the room. Johanna, Snow’s oldest and most trusted confidant.

“They can take the princess. They can keep her safe, far away from the war.”

The room exploded, voices crying out against it, but it was Snow that calmed them down, allowing Johanna to finish.

“Snow, long ago, your parents instructed me to take you far away should war ever come to the castle. If anything were to happen to them, it wouldn’t matter as long as you were safe. Their council agreed, saying it was best to ensure the safety of an heir. I pleaded with them not to ask such a thing of me. But now, well, now I understand.”

Everyone watched helplessly as Snow’s eyes began to well up, a sad smile gracing her apple red lips, as she hugged Johanna. For as much as they hated the idea of sending their only daughter away on a ship full of men they’d never met before, they weren’t sure they had a choice. Emma was the next in line, the only successor, and needed to be kept safe. And to the crew’s credit, they’d come home just as they were needed most, when it was most dangerous for them.

*************

Emma pleaded with her parents as the small envoy of people headed for the docks by foot, keeping to the shadows in their cloaks, hoping to avoid detection. James and Snow had done their best to explain to her why it was the best option, the only option, but she was stubborn. A trait she'd inherited from both her parents, but James held to the plan the council had formed.

As the five of them reached the docks, James approached the ship, calling out for whomever was in charge. Slowly, from the back of the ship, a man stepped forward, his blue eyes almost ethereal in the limited lighting.

“My name is Captain Liam Jones and I command this ship and these men.”

He remained stoic, unphased by the fact that he was speaking with royalty. There was no bow, no formal titles used. The man’s demeanor had James on alert, second guesses edging their way through his mind. Until another voice spoke up from the captain’s side.

“Lieutenant Killian Jones, Your Majesty.” The young man looked back at the captain, possibly searching for some form of approval, but continued without challenge from the superior officer. “I apologize for my brother’s lack of a proper greeting. We’ve been at sea for a long time and it can sometimes dull a man’s manners. But I assure you, this is the finest crew your armada has to offer, and we are at your service.”

“Captain, may we have a word in private?” It wasn’t a question though. If James was really going to send his only daughter away with these men, he needed more than the word of a junior ranking officer.

The captain simply nodded, stepping backwards as his crew parted, leaving a walking path to what James assumed was the captain’s quarters.

The room had a strange feel about it. Everything was ship shape, not a speck of dust or mess to be found, but something just seemed a bit off. The air was thicker, harder to breathe in.

“Please, have a seat.” Captain Jones gestured to a chair across from his own at his desk. His lack of formality bothered James. On one hand, it was a breath of fresh air being able to speak with someone without them nearly cowering before him, eager to agree with everything he said. But on the other hand, he worried that the lack of respect would transfer to Emma. He knew there were dangers involved in allowing his only child onboard a ship with thirty men. Men who’d likely not seen a woman in some time. He needed to be certain that she’d be safe among them.

James sidestepped the chair, choosing to stand instead. Choosing to demonstrate whatever bit of authority he had left.

“Captain, I’ve been King of this land for nearly twenty years, yet until tonight, I’d never even heard of this ship.” The captain nodded, but said nothing. “So what exactly was this secret assignment that my father sent you on? You couldn’t have been more than a teenager when he gave you those orders.”

“Aye, I was but a boy when I joined this ship so very many years ago, but I can assure you, that in all my time, my loyalty has always been to the ship and crown. I swore an oath, one I can not and will not break. And as far as our location, I’m afraid even I cannot divulge that information. As you stated, your father sent us out on a secret assignment, and I was sworn not to speak of it to anyone, which I’m afraid includes you, Your Majesty.”

“And if I were to order you, as your king?”

“Then I would still not tell you. I take my vows quite seriously.”

That was possibly the only bit of solace he’d been given that night. That despite the man’s obvious contempt for royalty, he was a man of honor if nothing else.

“And should I give you new orders, would you follow them?”

“Yes.”

James thought on it for a minute, but the realization of his lack of choices made the decision for him. If Regina found Emma, she’d torture the girl, or worse. At least with these men, she stood a chance.

And so James gave him orders. It was simple really, to take the ship as far and as fast as possible with Emma onboard. To tell no one of who she was or where she was from. To guard her with their lives. The captain accepted, leaving to ready the ship, not even stopping to take on any new supplies.

The blue fairy used the last of her magic to disguise the ship. As the fairy dust flew through the air, covering every last inch of the ship, a transformation occurred. The flag flying high above them no longer carried his crest or colors. Instead, it was a simple skull framed by two scabbards. The ship’s wood looked worn and aged, the colors less vivid and cracked. And the men aboard, the ones who’d been wearing their finest uniforms were now covered in leather and torn linens. Everything about it screamed pirates.

The last place Regina would ever think to look for Emma would be on a pirate ship.

James and Snow whispered their goodbyes to their tearful daughter, unsure of when, or if, they’d ever see her again. The crew wasn’t to return unless they received word of Regina’s demise. It could be years, or never. They kissed her cheeks and sent her on her way, her own princess dress and cloak unchanging as she stepped aboard the ship. The fairy dust already used up.

There was no great farewell as the ship set sail back into the ocean. As Snow and James watched their only daughter leave on a pirate ship, the Jolly Roger, they didn’t wave goodbye. Instead, they stood there for a moment, clutching each other’s hands tightly, before turning and heading back to the castle, not willing to stay out in the open for too long. Hoping against all hope that their little girl would remain safe.

[juleswolverton-hyde]

Aftermath (NJ x Reader)

Genre: Smut, Angst, Guesthouse AU

Pairing: Guesthouse Manager!Namjoon x Foreign!Reader

Warnings: Dirty talk, possessive behaviour, rough unprotected sex on the kitchen counter (ALWAYS use precautions, lads and lasses), accidental voyeurism, squirting, fingering, swearing, breeding/impregnation kink, dom!Namjoon

Summary: The sequel to ‘’Dionysian’’

Every aftermath is different, ranging in variety to all its extents. However, this one experienced by a silver tongue no longer numbed by blueberries does not nullify its need to speak the truth. Thus, the blonde wolf holds on to beliefs made explicit in drunkenness and hopes for physical conviction in sobriety.

By means which carry a sober soul into a former mutual intoxication.

Masterlist

The impact of an aftermath all depends on the reason for its cause, so naturally, it follows that the bigger the agent, the grander the effect of the afterburn. A jet lag tried to be cured by reading, for example, does not have as much if any unpleasant side effects aside from a sense of discombobulation, this is disregarding the fact that what followed the leisurely activity does make walking not all that easy, while the smoky blueberry hangover causes a major headache on top of muttering grumpiness. Withal, and perhaps this is fortunate regardless of the oppressing morality of reality, the negative mood in case of the latter seems to lessen quite a bit when exhausted pained espresso eyes shrouded by haphazard platinum meet drowsy sheepish irises containing various travel stories in the second living room upstairs.

‘Y/N,’ it comes out as a surprised reaction, not having expected to run into the person indirectly involved with the lingering effects of rice-based clear alcohol contained in emerald if that is remembered at all considering the vague forgetful haze shrouding an always comforting gaze, ‘I thought you’d be out and about by now.’

The remark signifies last night has been forgotten and with that the strangely meaningful act that turned out entirely different than expected, oddly making the heart sink with the stone of knowledge that even the genuine passion and devotion has been erased. ‘No, I’m here sleeping off the jet lag. But, uhm, can we talk?’

‘Sure, but,’ a palm presses against the forehead in a futile endeavour to push the likely agonizingly pulsing hurt into retreat, ‘can we do so at a low volume. My head is killing me.’

More than that is currently being figuratively murdered, but there is a voice inside which says that the tall guesthouse manager does not have to know about the events of the past twilight for they are best left in the past. Henceforth, it stays at a consenting nod before two pairs of bare feet ascend the stairs to the stylish though small area both functioning as a hallway, living room, dining room and kitchen all at once.

Along the way, a brief spark of hope is ignited when fingers brush against each other in an absent-minded fashion, hoping for them to entangle entirely or mayhaps go beyond that chaste boundary, falling into the sin left behind in oblivious dusk. A straying digit encourages this renewed type of contact.

But is disregarded as opportunity fades away directly when the wanted big hand swerves away towards the front door where a few coats hang neatly in a row to retrieve a small box of Marlboro Red cigarettes. ‘I’ll be right back. Maybe a smoke will help me clear up.’

The spring weather is warm enough to allow going outside without a jacket provided the upper body is in the least covered by a T-shirt, so the grey long-sleeved shirt on top of loose navy pyjama pants more than suffices when the front door briefly opens and closes without another word to carry on the communication seemingly unaffected by the sensual encounter.

The silence that sets in is cold, the warm lingering affection normally shown nor the traces of the rough version present to calm an anxious heart fearing being abandoned by the handsome manager despite being bound to a gentle ocean artist. Hence, for a moment that feels longer than it truly is, eyes begin to water at the sight of the closed entrance as arms wrap around the shivering body to keep it from unjustly falling apart, barely shy of sobbing when asking the rhetorical questions of the emptiness. ‘Why can’t you remember? Why did it have to mean nothing?’

And with those very same haunting unanswered inquiries, the task of making two decent cups of instant coffee is taken up while fighting the tears that inevitably stream down the cheeks. Shivering hands retrieve a pair of matching crimson and ink black mugs from the cupboard that is slightly too highly installed for the short person determinedly trying to grab a hold of the china, eventually succeeding by standing on the tips of toes. Soft hiccups get lost in the loudly boiling water and the dimmed sobs in the pouring that brings the caffeine to life.

However, a new noise is audible over the tinkling of spoons mixing the powder and water to create a godly beverage: bare feet rapidly padding over the Alaskan white cedar floor after a shocked gasp. Before the door has closed with a hardly audible click, unusually physically affectionate strong arms clad in grey have wrapped around the middle and pulled a fragile figure against a worried chest scented with fresh smoke. ‘Why are you crying?’

‘It- It’s nothing. Do- Don’t worry.’ To move on from the stupidly prominent hurt at the hand of lying fancies, a trivial detail is asked after while continuing to keep the whirlpool in the cup alive, moving. All consuming. ‘Do y- you drink it black?’

‘Y/N, please tell me what’s bothering you. I hate to see you like this.’ The warm breath on locks makes teeth bite down on the lower lip in a desperate attempt to withhold another heavy heave evoked by the genuine loving imaginations it conjures, gravely reminding the mind Taehyung already has an allegation to the title of significant other.

‘Namjoon, re- really. It’s o- okay.’ The handsome tall tree was never meant to be a selfish girl’s lover anyway, so the mourning of the fact is nothing but superfluous information to the man who cannot even remember how amazing and wanted he made her feel. How good it felt to lose control.

‘Is it about last night?’ A plush mouth no longer ghosts over strands grown haphazard by slumber, pressing down on the back of the head in a sincere loving smoke-scented kiss.

A weak nod confirms the suspicion, bravely trying to speak up to ask the question previously asked to the nothingness in a blonde wolf’s wake. ‘Have you forgotten what we did?’

‘I was far gone, too drunk to memorize what happened.’ Had it not been for what follows the statement, the crying might have commenced in earnest without ever giving a proper explanation for it afterwards to neither the platinum giant nor anyone else. Fortunately, the sorrowful chill fades from limbs at the heated reassuring mumbled words. ‘But I remember everything we did, all that I said. How gorgeous you looked while riding me, solely mine instead of his.’

The hug loosens enough to allow for turning around when noticing the urge to do so, needing to see the truth of the claim beneath the soju aftermath.

The dark reminiscent glint says more than enough, emphasizing the wanting has not been nullified over the course of sobering during the remnants of the nightly hours. Especially the barely held back anger pointed towards the artist called a “blueberry” in drunken rage signifies still wanting to be the sole one for a taken travelling individual living on a deadline. ‘I do hate it, you know? Hate it how he’s your boyfriend and I have to watch from the sideline. It should have been me who fucked you when you two came back from eating ramen. In fact, that could have been our second date if only you had recognized the trip to ARTBOX meant as much to me as a first.’

The embrace is made entirely undone as palms move upwards over the upper arms, following the curve of the neck and at last coming to rest on the cheeks where two kind thumbs wipe away the remaining brooks. ‘I don’t care how many men fuck you, but, in the end, I want you to be mine. That, out of all the times another touches you, it’s only meaningful when it’s me. I want you to be mine.’ Lips connect in a kiss tasting of smoke, old alcohol and restless sleep with a fruity hint of blueberries. Not really a preferable combination due to the sharpness of rice alcohol, but otherwise as pleasant, if not more, than the turpentine and lavender experienced each night before going to bed, every morning at waking up and all the little shared moments in between. ‘Leave him. Leave him for me, baby.’

‘I promised he could stay with me.’ Attention shifts to the side, staring at the floor in conflicted self-loathing for wanting to give up for Namjoon but wondering whether it would even matter since the blue-haired art teacher was turned on by the idea of being shared. Said he could learn how to love this body and soul better that way. However, it begs to ask the question where the line is drawn, at which point even this explanation no longer applies.

‘And he still believes that when I’ve clearly marked you as mine? Made him watch you getting a good pounding by me?’ Focus is shifted back by suddenly being picked up and put on the counter, the contact with the cold surface beneath the thighs making a shuddering tingling run down the spine. ‘I want him to stand by and watch, know there isn’t anything he can do to take you from me.’ A tanned hand creeps up the inside of dangling legs, gripping the upper part firmly at the last statement with a concoction of rage pointed towards an absent party and lust towards the present one. ‘Make him feel as I have all this fucking time.’

Helpless palms try to futilely push away the persistent shoulders leaning in to retrace the wonderful path of marks left behind in the twilight purple past, kissing each plum sign of belonging created in the craze of desire, hovering above the gradually heating skin and increasing the temperature by tickling warm breath. Without a second thought, in spite of Sense urging against doing it, fingers acting on muscle memory entangle in soft fluffy platinum locks like they had done before as the foreign body mindlessly bridges the small space between it and the local one.

The obvious hunger for the wolf disguised as a nice guesthouse manager evokes a tangibly bright smile on full lips while the oversized piece of clothing which is the property of a rival is endeavoured to be removed. ‘I think I like this complacent you more, baby. Now take this damn shirt off, I dislike lavender on you.’

‘You will have to deal with it. It keeps me warm.’ The smugness of the dark has not faded since talking back to Namjoon when the man thinks there is no courage to do so is actually quite amusing. Furthermore, it is also another way to avoid giving into the sensual craving stirring in the gut, fueled by the sensations of wanting to be possessed.

‘Hm, maybe not so obedient, after all.’ Clearly, the attitude is not tolerated even in a sober state. Yet, the caressing of the sides combined with a pondering hum forms an example of actual care about wellbeing. ‘I don’t want you to catch a cold, though. Hold on, baby, I’ll be right back.’

Just briefly a handsome face can be regarded fully in earnest before it rushes up the stairs and comes back down with a gorgeous creme-shaded silk kimono with intricate patterns in complementing colours and black bands at the ends of the sleeves. Quick as lightning, making sure there is no opportunity to resist at the last second, the crisp white shirt is almost torn off to be replaced by the personal piece of clothing.

Withal, before the new garments are donned, espresso eyes are drawn to the mesmerizing sight of the revealed chest, grand palms enveloping the two sensitive cushions perfectly as if made exactly to fit the broad-shouldered human tree’s hands. ‘Why did you hide this from me? You’re beautiful.’ The head dips down to take the swollen right rosebud into the mouth, teasing it by nibbling and licking the agitated bud of nerves, while left digits glide over the stomach towards the source of the hedonic scent as their right counterparts curl over the edge of the counter to remain balanced though they rapidly shift to the hip closing in with the ache to be closer. ‘So incredibly beautiful.’

When the coy amusing ministrations over cotton becoming sticky with uncontrollable wanting bring bliss almost too close, the desperate grip on hair that has to be renewed with every novel angle of exploration begins to shake and the chest is falling and rising heavily with laborious breaths mixed with pathetic whimpers and surprised gasps at harder bites or pressure on extremely sensitive spots, the sorry excuse for panties are torn off and the kimono embedded with a trace of nicotine blueberries put on. ‘Look at you, Y/N. Naked but for my clothes, marked as mine, blushing all cutesy with the need for me.’ Legs spread automatically and with a lewd squelch, two fingers slide in embarrassingly easily, soon joined by a third when notice is taken it can be done without problems. ‘So hungry for my cock, craving a good pounding.’ A too eager nod. ‘But first, I’m going to make you squirt all over my fingers and only use you as my personal fucktoy when you’re all nice and complacent, sensitive. Begging me to stop, whining for me to pull my big cock out, crying when I pump you full again. After all, you’re nothing more than my little breeding machine.’

It does not take long for the first promise to come to fruition, the remaining restraints of reality rapidly let go of once that special mind-boggling spot is found and touched over and over after the betraying whine, compelled to watch the obvious watery effects of pleasure by means of an unrelenting controlling grip on hair and baritone growls that shatter every thought in a white haze. ‘You’re such an easy fuck. Already cumming so quickly, making such a mess. But it’s also perfect, because it makes it that much easier to force myself into you, for you to handle me.’

Keeping the earlier given word, loose marine blue bottoms alongside the once fresh pair of boxers - now ruined by the transparent sinful sign which was only noticeable in a tangible shape - are pushed down to the ankles to give free reign to a sober part of the body that the one of the self is already well-acquainted with. Without warning nor inquiry about consent, making use of the floating trance which causes every reaction to be slowed down immensely due to the ignorant bliss exerting a hypnotizing influence on the consciousness, a more intense version of the renewed physical bond is established. The sole reaction that can be managed is hands tightening the hold on the buff upper arms that were already previously held tight when it were only long digits bringing about sexual ruin, hot tears on the brim of falling at the burning sensation of being stretched open again which is intensified by every nerve still standing on edge by the plunge into sensitivity. ‘Namjoon! It- it’s too much. I- I can’t- please, pull out.’

A dark chuckle falls from full lips at a pained whimper evoked at the hand of overstimulation, corners of the mouth curled up in a satisfied devilish grin. ‘You feel even better than I remember. So fucking tight. I said I’d give you a good pounding when you’re nothing more but an obedient little thing, flinching at every contact because it’s too overwhelming.’

Honey-toned digits fold themselves perfectly over the waist, scooting the infiltrated persona closer with ease and thus deepen the union with another pained outcry contrasting with the gesture of holding on tighter to the intoxicating offender driving out any thought dedicated to Taehyung and Jungkook, muffling the beginnings of crying in ashen nicotine fabric, finding comfort in the characteristic scent. However, the hiding place is merely temporary as the counterpart of the shackle on the middle forms around the jaw, ensuring with force that stares remain locked under any circumstance. ‘I want you to keep looking at me as you beg for me to stop. Just know that it won’t actually help, so you can whimper and cry all you want but it only turns me on. You’re going to take my cock like last night, let me empty entirely inside you, and there is nothing you can do about it. You’re gonna take every last drop,’ the hold tightens yet is not fought against as the effect of the sheer strength is as good as a drunken stupor, obliterating the last slivers of the old hypnotizing veil and immediately replacing it with a new blindfold, ‘milk me till I’m dry and your pretty pussy, swollen and sore, is leaking again with my seed.’

A sloppy kiss in combination with the last spoken words before a devastating act of love commences in earnest unintentionally already shows how wanton personal longing has become, endeavouring to enhance the intimacy even further and satiate the uncontrollable craving which is at war with the urge to end it here merely on the grounds of the searing agony below. A brief repose would also be a good alternative, but the primal spirit within neglects the idea altogether and listens instead gladly to the platinum wolf. ‘So, spread your fucking legs like a good deprived bitch and let me breed you.’

Muscles loosen enough to heed the command, an awful joy the determining factor in keeping up with the directly set relentless pace between the thighs of which the ankles wrap around a carved waist that stirs up a paradoxical storm of pleasure and pain in the gut with its movements. Pleads for a halt mixed with sobs about how much it hurts, not lying despite also clearly showing the need for more, made to a beautiful face are returned with praise. ‘Keep begging like that, baby. I’m not going to stop, not when you’re taking me so well.’ The hideous snarl returns with the memory surfacing at a newly discovered detail, a trace thought to have been made undone when restoring the ruin of the night but which only evokes jealousy spurring on the desire to imprint it all over again. ‘When he’s erased every trace of me inside.’

‘N- Nam- Namjoon, pl- please. I- I’m taken. Tae- ah!’ The mention of the sweet artist’s name is obviously unappreciated, the roughness increasing at the attempt to involve a third party if only in speech alone and pushing the burning further into a novel depth. Whatever was about to be said about Taehyung having the right to cover every sensual track made by another on a beloved, albeit solely for a piece of peace of mind, is nullified in the scream preceding heavier heaves disrupted by more pleading while the body behaves in a contrasting manner.

The caramel compelling lover is held near with the tightening of shaking legs around a sculpted waist and cute howbeit flat tummy, hands meekly tugging at the powerful wrists to convince them to break off the harsh grip on the jaw in favour of an unbreakable clinging embrace, the idea of which is consented to and allows fingers to entangle in platinum fluffy strands. Withal, even though it is allowed but a warning is threateningly whispered into the ear almost deaf with the enchanting sounds of low grunts mixed with high-pitched whines against a background of skin meeting skin in the lewdest of fashions. ‘That blueberry doesn’t have the right to erase me from your system. Besides, baby, if you’d really love him, you wouldn’t be taking my dick.’

And in that is a truth universally acknowledged, because if there truly was devotion to a single soul, another one would not be enjoyed as much as it is. There would only be the chemical sting of turpentine made smooth by lavender and the ironically currently affected combination of nicotine smoke, fresh soap and sharp mint kept at bay in mere friendship.

But it is not.

‘Is everything alright? I heard someone... oh.’ The front door is unsuspectingly opened with haste by a panicked classic pastry and sweets maker, cheeks colouring a bright rosy pink matching the neatly arranged hairstyle when realizing what the source for the outcry thought to be in distress really is.

‘Get out.’ Possessive fevered irises glare at a stunned Jimin, frozen in place by awkwardness and ignorance as to how to proceed to come out of the situation as unscathed as possible, full lips parted in pure paralysis. ‘We’re busy.’

Hard-handed, the almost affectionate hug is broken off with a renewed hold on the jaw to unresistingly shift attention from desperately holding onto broad shoulders with black sensitive blindness to gaze at a flustered face lit up the bright Seoul spring sun. Though murmured at a low volume against the reddish-purple bruises on the side of the throat, what is being said is nevertheless audible for the unwelcome visitor with hair like the cherry blossoms around the concrete jungle. ‘And don’t you dare try to interfere. Y/N’s taking my cum, she’s my slut.’ A seemingly misplaced nuzzle under a primal trance makes it undeniable whom the ravished body belongs even though the intricate gorgeous kimono also gives off a clue. ‘Mine.’

‘Well, actually-’ The rest of the sentence is broken off when the risk of the manager’s wrath becomes too real again, sheepishly settling for something else before rushing off to God-knows-where after shutting the just opened door with a slam. ‘You know what? Never mind. I’ll, uh, leave you to- to it.’

‘I swear, if he also comes after you. Which he will, just like the others, even Yoongi, and that desperate boy trying to pretend he’s actually a cop.’ The continuation of the threat gets lost in a dangerously displeased grunt accompanied by a harsh thrust. The grip shifts from the underside of the face to the throat, closing the airways just enough to not suffocate in fueled rage taken out in passion. ‘However, I. Don’t. Share.’

Climaxes can be triggered in various ways, but the need to possess of a strong-willed wolf and the craving of a traveller to be controlled by the blonde animal in disguise because the ocean artist is too sweet throws entangled forbidden lovers violently off the cliff, on the edge of which has been tethered with words pushing the wish to achieve the lewdly described goals.

And just like during the last twilight and at the start of relived furious jealous love-making, the overstimulation is ignored as pained whimpers and repeated pleads for pulling out continue to function as an aphrodisiac until yet another promise is fulfilled, once more made to watch how it is established when not staring into raging deep brown.

‘Breath, baby, breath. Easy, easy, shhh.’ After the last release, shaking all over with effort which makes it hard to remain upright, a heated gradually calming chest is collapsed against in an explosive limbo as a hand transformed from rough into gentle caresses messy locks. Cushion full lips place an appreciating kiss on the temple, an action that is quite a contrast with the claiming biting, while every last drop of thick undoubtedly unclear fluid is attempted to be absorbed regardless of the soreness. ‘That’s it, baby. Milk me. Good girl, you did so well. I’m proud of you.’

When having regained consciousness enough to straighten the spine and be somewhat coherent in the reality that slowly sinks in, another chaste kiss is placed on a sticky forehead as upper arms clad in clinging silk are rubbed kindly before slowly sliding up to cup a tear-streaked face and wipe away the last of tears, now shed thanks to the impactful severing which results in the wished for outcome of leaking with white. ‘God, you’re beautiful. That kimono also looks wonderful on you. You should wear it more often.’ 

The smug smirk at the comment fades away into severity as fast as it appeared, baritone voice stained with a certain gravity when requesting something that cannot be easily consented to due to committing promises. ‘I meant what I said. I don’t share, especially not the girl I love. Even if this ends up in a polygamous relationship if you decide to sleep with any of the other guys or they persuade you to, know that I’ll hate each and every one of them for knowing what it’s like to be with you when I want the privilege of it. Furthermore, if they make you do anything you don’t want, I’ll beat them up and turn them out onto the street.’ Absentmindedly, the collar of the robe is corrected, fabric put around a shivering speechless body with genuine care. ‘For now, leave him. I really do want you to leave him for me. Be mine.’

‘I can’t, Joon. I promised Taehyung we’d be more than a spring affair, that he can stay with me.’ A shuddering sigh almost makes the rediscovered voice disappear again with the realistic afterthought. ‘At least until I have to go.’

‘You can make the same promise to me and I’ll guarantee we can stay together. I got a solid income from the guesthouse, a place to call home and which can be our home whenever you’re in Korea.’ The kiss that follows is grave, acting like the last bastion in the fights against determined realism. Espresso irises scented with dewy nicotine laced with fruit gleam with pleads held out of speech. ‘I promise. Please, leave him.’

‘I can’t.’

Fists clamping Japanese clothing.

‘Why?’

Brooks on caramel cheeks.

‘Sorry.’

Clad in silk and traces of another that also cannot be.

Such is the devastating aftermath of two lonely broken hearts.

[plantfeed]

        ok turns out i am 100% that dumbass bitch who still aint posted my intro on main....... so for reference.....  hello! im nora ( she / her ). im a 24 year old creative writing graduate currently residing in sheffield, south yorkshire. when i’m not hunched over a keyboard writing, i enjoy independent cinema, chinese food, and big nights out that i’ll remember only in fleeting snapshots. i currently work as a barmaid and a tutor for a filmmaking project.  

without further ado, here is my interpretation on the skeleton ‘ophelia’, a development of a character who’s been brewing at the back of my mind for absolutely AGES now so thank u for giving me the push to actually flesh her out. 

ive included a full biography, but please feel free 2 skip to bullet points if TLDR because it is LOOONG..... and im so happy 2 be here.... new home.... chefs kiss.... yes lov u all

IN CHARACTER.

skeleton: ophelia name: theresa rigby. (goes by diminutives tess, tessa, tea or thea. the only time she’s theresa is when she’s in trouble.) age: 21, born july 10 (cancer) faceclaim: diana silvers. gender: cis-female. pronouns: she/her degree: comparative literature & ancient history (joint honours)

INTRO.

trigger warnings.

loss of a parent. missing person / disappearance. drugs and alcohol reliance. death.

BIOGRAPHY.

i. narragansett, rhode island.

              1999, an Austrian sunrise, it is the year of the Water Monkey.  A water baby, first screams under the surface, the catch of it gargled in your throat. A birth mark the size and shape of a door handle pressed into your pelvis like a lover’s badge. Born like a clenched fist. Annie always wished you’d be more like an open palm. You still carry that tension with you, an unreadable kind of silence when you slink around the edge of a room or perch on an arm rest like a bird about to startle and fly off. Nobody knows a thing about you and you like it that way. Conceived in the winter, some of that coldness still lingers in you. 

              The only perfect girl is a dead girl. That’s what you learned, last-born runt of the litter growing up in the bedroom of a girl who would be forever cold, young and pretty. In the beginning, they thought you were a blessing — Bet’s soul reincarnate, the same pale face they’d seen as they’d signed her into the pick ‘n’ mix family. You were given her clothes, her room, even her middle name, stripped and rebranded like a toy doll bought after the last one’s head was chewed off by the dog. Four boys, a dead sister, and you who — with your birdlike features and unrelenting eyes — was merely a walking ghost. Tennis skirts, nail varnish, a shag rug, a rotten corsage; these were the staple reminders that you were living in a shrine, the room never quite your own lest you disturb the lingering presence of Bet. Soon, you began to see it as not a room but rather a prison cell caging you in the imprint of a sister you never met.

              Your mothers met at an undergraduate socialist meeting when the fall semester fell into winter, Kath in a mustard coloured beret, Annie in a blood-orange duffle coat, a philosophy major and an art historian respectively. Your childhood was a montage of potato printing eels onto the walls of a Rhode Island boarding house next to the sea. Five children — some adopted, some surrogate — a permanent rotation of rooms and always a handful of lodgers to foot the bill. Travelling salesmen, students on gap years and tinkers in search of odd-jobs became a flipbook of faces etched into your memories like fleeting figures in the wings of a theatre; you sketch them into the body of your work. They become the characters to haunt the pages of your notebooks, stashed beneath floorboards lest they fall into too-hungry flour-caked fingers, scones baking in the oven two floors below. A house that seemed to physically inhale every time a new body entered it, tall and thin, too small to house all that weight. The gaps beneath the floorboards are the only spaces that feel like your own, untouched by a girl who’s shadow you were born in. In your diary, you scribble her name until it tears through the pages thinking that if you wish hard enough, you’ll make yourself her. It’s never enough.

              At twelve, you lose Annie to a boating accident. You lose a piece of yourself with her and stop wearing yellow. Grief makes a better writer out of you though it sounds selfish to admit it. Kath remarries the following spring, a man named Peter. He is ordinary in all the ways Annie was magical and when he sits in your mother’s chair you feel yourself slip out of your skin and into the body of a raven cawing in the woods, scratching at the dustmites. You try to teach yourself how to be a girl, though you’ve always felt more like a wild thing crouched in the attic window of the lighthouse, screaming at the crash of the waves. You wanted to love the sea as closely as it owned you. In the sea you were rewritten into a tide, into a shell, into the swell of a rockpool around the body of a crab. You wanted to be like the ocean —a tangible, changeling thing —making paper boats and setting them out to sea, wishing you could shrink yourself into one, sail away. For a while, you toy with the idea of starving yourself into something the size and shape of an eel; of growing gills in the night and darting into the ebbing current. They’d think you crazy if you told them.

ii. concord, massachusetts. 

              You butt heads with Kath on a daily basis. She tells you you resent her for moving on with her life when you seem unable to move on with yours. That maybe a clean break would be best for all the family. A fresh start. A change of scene. You lock yourself in the bathroom and cry for an hour until your mouth feels raw, like running a cheesegrater down the inside of your throat. The following September, they send you to boarding school, two suitcases and an armful of Annie’s jumpers. Kath has decided they don’t compliment her skin tone, and she’s not twenty-five or studying philosophy any more. New England becomes the best decision for you that your family have ever made. You thrive on the independence of living in a dormitory on a corridor of Alison’s and Margaret’s and Ruth’s. From the names on their doors, you paint them into people in your head, red-haired Ruth who collects birth stones and can count to twenty in Mandarin. They turn out to be nothing like the versions of them you’ve spun. You love them anyway, their rough-softness, the scuffed knee thrill of growing up half-wild. There’s a brightness in their girlhood that you try to capture in your words. 

              Though you never quite find yourself settling into a group, Dr. Franklin becomes the anchor to which you tether yourself to, a little girl leeching onto her Literature professor for a sense of stability in a tempestuous world. The others might think it sad, but she sees something in you — an inner restlessness, a need to analyse and observe and contain everything within poetry and prose — that reminds her of herself at your age. You begin one-to-one sessions after the school day has closed, whisper about Proust and O’Hara over frothed lattes in a campus-run coffee shop, ink blots on the pages of dog-eared copies she’s gifted to you on an indefinite loan. Sometimes, you think you love her. You run your fingers over the buttons of her typewriter, close your eyes, and imagine yourself pulling on her skin like a new coat.

              The woods become your saviour. In Narragansett you never knew woods, only harboursides, seafood restaurants, the smell of the ocean breeze and a lighthouse calling you home. You learn to love the smell of the earth after rain. The feeling of soil between your toes. The sense of belonging you feel trailing through the woods in stark white nightgown, twigs catching on the mud-stained hem. Massachusetts becomes a place of revision. You remake yourself as a fawn, elegance in your limbs and hunger in your heart. You learn how to write yourself into being. There’s a violence in your grace — simultaneously glass and the hammer that shatters it — and despite the ethereal way you move it’s the leonine stature of a tigress, claws bared, teeth sharpened into fangs, but a smile like butter wouldn’t melt. Lady Macbeth was always your favourite of Shakespeare’s heroines. There’s something dark in her that resonates with you, the way when a pimple appears you have to squeeze it until it bleeds. You tell yourself that everybody has a morbid fascination. 

              Each night you take a torch, a book and a bottle of Merlot, and you wile away the hours reading in the woods. At home, sleep never came easy to you. You’d pace the floorboards counting sheep and wake having barely slept a blink. This, on the other hand, seems useful, though when you’re never asleep, you’re never quite awake, floating through the school day like a ghost, part removed, the dark circles pulling your eyes to a close. It’s a tiredness you carry in every aspect of your life, limbs heavier than usual, pen slower when it grazes the page. Soon you start taking tablets each night. Two white ones, no bigger than a baby’s fingernail. For the first time, you begin to dream.

              When February rolls around you take your exams. Pass with the grace of a swan in everything except AP Calculus. You say you’ll try again next semester, but you don’t. You apply for Yale, Cambridge, Harvard, Columbia, Ashcroft. You wait. And wait. And wait until it feels like your skin has shed itself since the letters left your hands, before an envelope comes marked Theresa. No one ever calls you that name. Right from the start it’s been Tea, Tess, Thea, common names in your house as fickle as the tide that swallows it. Billy’s never been a William, and Sebastian sounds all wrong. You can scarcely remember what Brodie’s short for. Rejection after rejection until Ashcroft answers the call, a cawing in the dark of a wasteland you’ve not yet walked. You’ll read literature, follow in the footsteps of Ginsberg who you clumsily try to quote as you bid the girls goodbye, a bonfire and the smell of cinnamon whiskey. 

iii. ashcroft university, edinburgh. 

              You’d read of a boy who went missing there. It happened in the woods. Seventy years and all they’d found was an emptied bottle of wine and one shoe. Newspapers claimed involvement in an elite society, perhaps a hazing gone wrong, and you imagine them burrowed in underground tunnels wearing wellington boots and tweed. This is what draws you to Ashcroft ; to Imperium. It’s not so much the mystery of it —you’ve never seen yourself as a Nancy Drew — but more the idea of living in a place where people can disappear. That’s always been an idle fantasy of yours. One day, you wonder if you’ll write yourself out of the world and into the pages of a book, nestled between a title and contents page.  

              From Concord to Boston, then a ten-hour flight ; for the first time in months, you sleep through the night. A line break cancels your train and you have to take a replacement bus service instead. By the time you reach the school, the open day is almost over. You feel it at the gates, like a tingle on the back of your neck, something crawling down your spine. It only grows as you close in on it. It feels like it knows your own heartbeat. You’ve never known a building to have so much soul. You imagine yourself walking the cobblestones on the quad each day, climbing the steps to a dormitory, sprawled on a library table, scribbling frantically, willing the clock hands backwards. It’s a life you want to lead.

              In a matter of months, Ashcroft has become not only your home but your life. You are utterly consumed by it. You meet Lysander at a poetry reading. You recite Shelley. He recites Keats. He compliments you on the steadiness of your voice, clear as a bell. A voice for the stage. You tell him your father had a powerful voice. It’s a lie. You’ve never had a father, but it’s fun to imagine one slouched on the couch, wire-rimmed glasses on the end of his nose. He invites you to dinner the following week. Grilled sea bass and risotto. You don’t have the heart to tell him you’ve become a vegetarian, swallow each mouthful with your pride. You try out for the orchestra, though your hands shake a little too much and you hear more from the inside of your own head than the keys. You leave without waiting on an answer. It’s too contained for you, anyway. You need something more chaotic, like jazz. You wish for chaos, so Imperium opens it jaws and swallows you whole. They like you because of your voice, a voice that speaks scarcely more than a low whisper in life, but when written wins you a Bysshe-Shelley Prize. In poetry, you give that voice to the voiceless ; bring dead girls buried in the woods out of the ground and into being, like soil in your hands. A voice like that is a powerful thing to have in your ranks. It becomes every page in your diary, every catch of your skirt on a tree branch, every rap of your fingertips against the desktop, imperium, imperium, imperium.

              You’ve never been able to do things by halves — you always let them consume you. One glass becomes a bottle. One paragraph becomes scrawling until sunrise. Obsession takes its form in Hamlet, strong in all the ways you appear weak. You like the smell of his breath when he tells you to stub out your cigarette. That’ll kill you one day, he says. I know, you reply, and your pretty lips curl upwards. One drunken night, you fall into his bed and imagine stitching yourself into his sheets so you can sleep with him every night. Tongues on your thighs like a voice in your throat. Touch me, touch me, touch me. Never been held like this before. Like you’re not glass, but something material and robust. You like the way his hands feel under your skin. Perhaps you’ll keep him there like a splinter. Tall for your age but thin as a rail, he makes you feel like more than an eel of a girl. You like the way he catches on your spindly elbows where others have snagged leaving trails of cotton. At first, it’s only physical, but you get greedy and want more. You’re not sure when a love of beauty became something more than skin deep. You’re not sure if you even loved him until he’d stopped loving you. In October, you find the body. The day all the clocks stop ticking. The day something inside of you snaps like the branch of an elm.

              You become a cocoon, velvet ribbons in your hair and rope around your throat. Or maybe it’s lace, and you’re only imagining it that way. You drink wine, stumble blind-drunk through the woods, lose textbooks to nature and curse when you can’t find them the following morning. Most nights, you appear like a ghost in the wood, a linen nightdress with mud clinging to it’s hem and feet laden in soil. You’re not sure if it’s conscious at this point, or mindless sleepwalking. Everything you do feels like sleepwalking these days. Shadows move in the corners of your eyes at night and you turn to the tarot cards for answers. They tell you only of that which you already know. Death. The Hanged Man. High Priestess. You think of Octavia, of Lysander, and of you pulled like a ragdoll between them, with the intuition that comes from living by the sea but without the evidence to execute it. The pills have stopped working. You wake in sweats, guilt swelling in the pit of your stomach. In a therapist’s waiting room, you watch as a girl scratches the skin off her own arm.

              Soon news of your occultist proclivities becomes gossip on everyone’s tongue. Witch becomes a synonym for your name, and one you’ll happily wear like a noose until you’ve stolen Lysander from the drop. Finding the truth becomes the only thing keeping you sane, runes scrawled on the walls of a dormitory where pages of novels are tacked up like wallpaper. And still, you can’t shake the fact that she hasn’t come to you when the others who scarcely believe in such phantomed are rattled by her ghost on a nightly basis. Competing and girlhood go hand in hand, but the longer it gets, the more it feels like she knows your desperation to absolve Lysander isn’t entirely selfless. Perhaps she saw you lingering in doorways, waiting in the wings for him to change his mind and tell you it was you all along. Or maybe the sight of her corpse is making you search for answers in places they don’t exist. You’re hanging on my a single thread, one glimpse away from fleeing to the woods to plant yourself into the earth.

              The snow is crisp on the November ground when you learn to love melancholy like a dance you were taught as a child. You think it adds depth to being a writer. How can a person write about pain if they live in a state of blissful oblivion? You tell yourself that all of the best writers were depressed; Plath, Fitzgerald, Dickinson, Rice. If you say their names each morning, followed by your own, perhaps you’ll become one of them. 

BULLET POINT SUMMARY.

here is a bullet point summary of theresa, as i understand my writing can get a little dense.

Mother always said that people who grow up near water are different to other people. That there’s something more primal in their bones. A kind of knowing.

In Theresa, the knowing is a kind of silence. She’s always struggled with verbal communication, and it’s rare that she can ever let herself go in a conversation. She’s the one on the outskirts of the group, only speaking up to deliver a poignant metaphor, before fading off again. On a good day she’ll ramble, perhaps, on morbid longings and fascinations, but it’s like she’s always skipping around words she can’t quite pinpoint. 

Writing’s different. When she’s writing, she feels like all the dead souls of Emily Bronte and Virginia Woolf and Sylvia Plath are all rising up from their graves to possess her. It is, perhaps, a rather egotistical thought -- but it makes her feel less alone. Like writing isn’t so much a solitary pursuit as it is a reigniting of what’s been lost, a way of listening to the dead. She’s militant in the way she writes, has been for as long as she can remember -- every night when the clock strikes twelve. Even if she’s rolling on mandy in an abandoned warehouse or dropping acid in a shipyard with her toes in the sand, she’ll start scribbling at twilight, for as long as she can. Back home, there weren’t too many bars that allowed underage kids, and the ones that did would nail your phone to the wall like you’re living in the eighties, so they made their own fun getting high in places long since infested with rats on baggies bought cheap in the back of the dry-cleaners shop.

Theresa’s always felt more able to relate to dead people than to living ones. That might sound depressing, but she doesn’t think so. Death has never been far from her. She grew up in the room of a foster sister who had died the previous winter. She lost her mother to a boating accident at twelve years old. She lost Octavia last year, found her body in the woods, and was thankful that she -- and not someone else -- had seen her crumpled like a fawn. Because even though it clings to her and burrows under her skin, she knows how to drown it out now. In words. In wine. In pills crushed against the veneer of a sink and snorted through a twenty-dollar bill. She’s getting good at losing herself completely. Theresa herself feels like a girl half-dead, like something ghostly, trapped between two planes. Which is why it hurts so much that she still hasn’t seen Octavia’s ghost. She’s supposed to be the special one. The one who’s vision isn’t clouded by idle dogmatism. The one who believes in all that fate, juju, third eye stuff that the others seem to scoff at. It feels like a personal attack. Like somehow, in keeping hidden, she’s blaming Theresa for her death.

Theresa is the month of November. There’s something mysterious about it, something cold. It’s on the cusp of the end of the year, but it doesn’t quite reach it. I feel like that’s what Theresa’s like. Always reaching for the apples that are just out of her grasp, or perhaps, reaching for apples which aren’t even there. 

She knows grief like an old friend, but somehow, she still doesn’t trust it. When she was twelve years old she lost one of her mothers. Annie was always the brighter of her parents, and Tessa never really believed that someone so full of life could just disappear. Her soul had to be somewhere. When Kath remarried, Theresa never forgave her. Between grief and anger, their relationship became fractious, and Kath decided to send her to boarding school. She went to a New England college where she learned art, history, literature, english, athletics, the sciences and the classics. Boarding school was probably the best decision for Theresa that Kath had ever made. She became fascinated with the girls around her, so feral and wild in their girlhood. She fell in love with another girl more than once. She fell in love with the freedom of New England, of being in the woods, of a gaggle of girls with bottles of wine sat around a campfire, scared half to death that the matron would find them.

But death’s never far from her. She’s been searching for Annie in the linebreaks between poems, in the chaos of clutter under her bed, under lace and linen in her underwear drawer, but somehow she can never quite find her and never give up.  Finding Annie was perhaps the reason she came to Ashcroft at all. She intended to go to Columbia, read Literature, and clumsily follow in the footsteps of Ginsberg. But Annie had spoken of Edinburgh with such a childlike awe.

Lysander was the first of the society she met, at a poetry reading in the autumn of her first semester. He brought her into the club because he saw something in her, an otherworldliness, a still but powerful voice. Her eyes saw more than they let on, always glinting at something more. She thinks her closeness with Lysander is the reason she still hasn’t seen Octavia’s ghost, and now Hamlet’s out of the picture she’s starting to think she might love Lysander. Or maybe she just needs to be loved by someone, and absolving him of blame is the key.

She was never really sure how she felt about Octavia. One moment they were friends, the next they were rivals. It was something like love and hate combined, but perhaps that’s just the curse of being a woman. A fierce sense of competition in everything you do, even if it’s just competing for air.

She likes old French music, European cinema, art that doesn’t come in her mother tongue. She’s always thought English pointless. The French say things so much better.

Her favourite TV show is Twin Peaks. She likes the absurdist truth in it, the style, the colour, the oddness. She likes the mystery of it all. She loved the woods in New England and it reminds her of that. A kind of home away from home. Tea brings a pocked dictaphone out with her, for she’s so often absent-minded that she misses half the day. That way, she can replay conversations, the sound of a bird in flight, the particular inflection in the voice of someone she loves. She’s obsessive when it comes to lovers. She doesn’t want to be loved -- she wants to be respected, understood, devoured. She thinks love is a kind of mutual lying.

She finds truth in the unusual. In tarot cards and horoscopes, in the position of the planets through a thrifted telescope. She’s a night owl, never in bed before 3 or 4 in the morning. She visits the woods each night to write until her fingers ache. Sometimes with wine, sometimes with mushrooms, sometimes with a tab against the flat of her tongue, imagining herself to be Alice in Wonderland. She feels like she’s getting close to the truth, but maybe she’s just closer to losing her mind.

LETTER TO OCTAVIA.

My dearest O,

I wish I could find an adequate way to write you an epitaph. You saw a poet where everyone else saw a foolish dreamer and yet you’re the only one I can’t put into words. But in truth, there is no word large enough to contain you. You were the ellipsis I was always looking to conclude, and it’s so like you to steal even that from me. Some days, I think I could love you.  

Please know that death cannot touch girls like us. That you’re more than just skin, teeth and bone. Death itself has you only on a short-term loan. As Thomas puts so eloquently, Do not go gentle into that good night. Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Thank you for filling me with life. I’ll see you in the next one.

Tea.

anything else?

mock blog.

 pinterest 

wanted plots.

someone who theresa knows purely from seeing them at the library. recently, she hasn’t been visiting as often. she’s less in the world and more in her head. her schoolwork is suffering. someone who feels this absence like a missing tooth.

unlikely bc ashcroft is in scotland but if they’re from rhode island maybe distant relatives.... ophelia / theresa is adopted so could work regardless of heritage. her family lived in narragansett, but she went to boarding school in vermont. could have met if ur character is new england based??? maybe

give me fellow wanky pretentious art-lovers and poets and historians who will go to museums and galleries with her and listen to the velvet underground on vinyl

people she gets mortally fucked off her tits with at parties bcos this baby is not alright. she drinks at least one glass of wine every night. sometimes a bottle. she’s always a little bit high or a little bit weary with a comedown. she can’t seem to keep her feet on the ground.

theresa was pretty numb after finding the body, as you would be. she stayed in her room listening to enya for three days straight and just eating cereal straight out the box. then thalia broke up with her and that fuckin shook her too, and now she just thinks she’s unlovable. she’s always been pretty bad at sleeping but now she just wanders about in her white nightdress looking for a door with light spilling beneath it so that maybe she can find someone who’ll hold her for the night and make her feel like she’s still alive

she’s currently hooking up with a lot of people. a lot of very detached sex, so if she has any sort of close connection with your character this might not work. could be good for angst or awkwardness though, or she cld get like.... super attached after a one night stand and complicate the shit out of everything. theresa’s kind of obsessive when it comes to her affections, she loves with her whole heart or not at all

people she used to date or unrequitedly likes, but to them it’s just a physical thing, give me all the thirsty angst plots, and maybe some softness too, i need some religion in this girls life jesus 

honestly everything just give me all the plots

[karij]

OCtober Writing Prompts  Day 6 - Dreams and Aspirations

A memory from 21 years ago, when Karri was 12 years old.

Griff came home! He’s been gone for ages on his trip. He was in Waterdeep for a few years after he turned 20. He was working for papa and Mr. Braun, helping them make trade deals with merchants in the city. I didn’t see him much but he came home sometime and he always had stories to tell, and presents too. One time he brought me a belt knife with a handle made of pretty green stone, but mama took it away. She said I could cut myself so I could have it when I was older. It’s been 3 years and she still hasn’t given it back. She treats me like I’m a baby, but I’m 12 years old. It’s not fair. Griff brought me a ring next time. It’s pretty but I know he bought something mama would let me keep. I keep it in my box with the other things he’s brought me. 

I like the presents, but I like the stories better. Griff saved all the money he made working for papa and Mr. Braun and went on a trip all the way across the ocean. He went to Shavay! He says that it’s really different there. It’s hot and bright and filled up with sand. It’s like being at a beach he says, but instead of ocean waves there’s just rolling sand (he calls them dunes) as far as you can see. Farther, even. He told me he met a man who had a cat with stripes on his back like the Fletchers’ tomcat (his name is Chops, ‘cause he has super fluffy fur on the sides of his face) but this cat was the size of a lion! Bigger even! He said he saw a big blue dragon fly over him so he had to hide in the sand. He also said he saw a animal that was the size of a house and it had big floppy ears (bigger than me!) and it had two white horns on its face and a long nose that it could fill up and then drink out of like a cup. I think he made that one up though. 

There’s a story I don’t get to hear. Mama and papa made me leave before he told it, but Harri and Elli had to leave to. I think was a grownup story. I want to listen at the door but Elli told me was gonna tell on me if I didn’t stop. Traitor. I would have told her and Harri too but she says Mama said no. She never lets me get away with stuff. Probably why mama puts her in charge when I’m feeling sick and she has to go out. Cadi lets me play in my room when I’m not feeling good but Elli makes me stay in bed and go to sleep. One time she held my nose and made me swallow a bunch of valerian root since I wouldn’t take a nap. It was super gross and I didn’t wake up for like 3 days. Mama freaked out and wouldn’t let me out of her sight for ages after that. Elli got in big trouble for getting into mamas medicines though, serves her right.

They’re opening up the door now, I guess the story is over. I missed the whole thing, ugh. Rollo and Griff and the others are coming out. Are we done with stories for now? I run up to Griff and grab his hand, bouncing on my toes. 

“Griff! Are you going somewhere? Can I come with? Please?”

Griff grins and reaches down to ruffle my hair, I grin back and blow my hair out of my eyes.

“I’m heading to the Stag-Horned Flagon with Rollo and Martyn. I don’t mind you coming along kiddo, what about you Rollo?”

“Fine by me. Martyn?”

“I don’t mind… What do you think Ma? Pa?”

Dangit Martyn, why did you have to ask mama? Maybe I can still make this work. I turn to mama and put on the most desperate, excited face that I can. Puppy eyes don’t work for me. If mama thinks I’m tired or upset she’ll make me stay home and sleep. I hop from foot to foot, hands clasped in front of me pleadingly, my eyes wide and pleading. 

“Mama, can I go? Pleeeease? I don’t feel sick or tired, and I promise I’ll be good. Honest!”

Mama frowns and my heart sinks, she’s about to say no. I just know it. Then she sighs and turns to Papa, “What do you think El? Should I let her go?” 

Papa rubs his chin, “I dunno, do you think she’ll behave herself?”

I hop over to papa so fast I almost trip, nodding my head vigorously, “I’ll be good papa, I promise! I want to hear the rest of Griff’s stories. I’ll listen to Rollo n’ Griff n’ Martyn, I will! Please just let me go papa!” I want it so bad I’m shaking. I hear a tiny giggle and see that Cadi is covering her mouth with her hand. I squint suspiciously, are they making fun of me?

But there’s more important things. I swivel back to papa, trying my best to contain my anxiety. What if he says no? But… hey! He’s biting his lip, he’s trying not to laugh! I take a step back and look around, glaring at everybody. They’re all trying not to laugh! I cross my arms, put on my cross face, and stomp my foot on the floor.

“Hey, you’re all making fun of me!” I huff in annoyance, “That’s not nice. Big jerks.”

They all give up. They’re all giggling, then they’re all laughing at me! No fair, they all teamed up to trick me! Even Elli and Harri are laughing! They all knew! That’s cheating! I stand there fuming while they laugh, then as they calm down mama comes over to me, still giggling softly. 

“Allright Karri, you can go with your brothers. Just be good for them, okay?”

“Really?” My eyes get wide as saucers, I smile and hug her around her waist as tight as I can, “Thank you mama! I’ll be good! Thank you, thank you!” I get to go! I never get to go! This is the best night ever. Wait, what am I gonna wear? I gotta get dressed! I pull away from mama, still bouncing in excitement, and dash up the stairs two at a time. Mama calls up after me.

“Slow down Karri! You’re gonna trip and hit your head!”

“Yes mama!” I yell back, slowing down and taking the stairs one by one. She’s right, I get to go out! Can’t risk messing that up by bonking my noggin. Gotta be careful.

I hurl myself out of my clothes and yank on my best blue dress. I get to go out! I gotta look good. I tug a brush through my bright-red hair so I don’t look like a big tangle of yarn. Am I forgetting anything? I look around. I go to the window and struggle to open it. It’s heavy for me. I manage to crack it open and a stiff wind breathes through. I shiver, it’s chilly out. I shut the window. Mostly. It gets stuck, okay? 

I look around for my coat but I don’t see it. It’s not in my chest either. When I look up, I see mama’s shawl on the bed. Well, my shawl. The one that was mamas. Its mine now. But I don’t want to wear that out. It’s warm and stuff but it’s… wearing your mamas shawl is for little kids. Not for grown ups. I get to go out with the boys I should look like a grown up. I look away from it. But then I look back. It is cold outside… and mamas shawl is really warm. And soft. And pretty.

I pull it around my shoulders. The pale blue looks nice with my dress. I should pin it with something though. Ooh! I got it! I run over to my bed-table and pull open the drawer to get my little box. Griffs ring is way too big for my finger, it doesn’t even fit mama and my fingers are way littler than hers are. But maybe… yeah! I pull the ends of my shawl through the ring and stick a little silver pin through them. Silver ring, silver pin, yeh. I look good! And I gotta look good, because I get to go out. Now I’m ready.

“Karri, you ready? We gotta get going!”

That’s Rollo. Everyone’s waiting on me, oops! I scuttle my way out of my room and down the stairs as fast as I can. Rollo, Griff, and Martyn all have their coats and are ready to go. Mama comes over to me, she has my coat. She holds it out towards me with one hand. 

“Looking for this?” She looks down at me and smiles, “I think you look very nice, but would you prefer your coat dear?”

I look down at mamas shawl, draped around my shoulders. It’s too big for me, it makes me look even smaller than I already am. But it’s warm and… it’s mine. I shake my head and look down, blushing slightly.  

“No. I’m okay mama. Thank you.”

“Alright then.” Her smile widens just slightly. She reaches down and adjusts my shawl, repinning it so it fits more snugly around my shoulders, like a hug. She cups my cheeks in her hands and kisses my forehead. Blegh, I blush and pull away and scrub at my forehead. She laughs. “Have fun baby girl, be safe.” I’m not a baby, but I nod anyways and scamper over to Griff and the others so we can head out to the Flagon. I get to go out! 

The night goes fast. We have a really tasty stew for dinner at the Flagon, and I get to have a big cup of cider! It’s almost as big as my head! My brothers all have ales, but I’m not old enough to get one. Not that I want to, cider is yummy and ale tastes like butts. Or at least that’s what Harri said after he got in trouble for sneaking one of papa’s ales. Griff gets out his manto… his… mandi… his instrument and played songs he learned on his trip! I sat on Rollo’s lap and clapped and sang along, then Rollo laughed and set me up on top of the table! He said I had to dance for my supper, so I did. It was embarrassing but it was really fun too. I was so tired by the end of it. I plopped back onto Rollo’s lap and sat there while he and Martyn clapped along. 

I guess I fell asleep at some point because when I woke up I was in my room. Rollo was carrying me to my bed. I was in my nightgown, I guess he changed me into it but I wasn’t embarrassed, he’d taken me swimming in Horse Pond too many times for me to be shy about that. My eyes were bleary as he set me down on my bed and pulled my covers up to my chin. I smiled up at him and he smiled back down at me.

“Hey kiddo. Did you have fun?”

“Uh huh.”

“Guess we really tired you out, huh?”

I nodded, yawning hugely. 

“Allright kiddo. Do you want a light?”

The light from the doorway was coming through but once he shut it… the shadows were already getting bigger. I look over at the darkness, then turn back to him and nod, not meeting his eyes.

“...Yeah.”

“Still don’t like the dark, huh?”

“...No.”

“Allright kiddo. Well, you know what might help? I almost forgot your present.”

My eyes shot wide open, I wanted to push myself up but I was so tired. I forgot about presents! He reached into his pocket and pulled out a little ceramic pot. It was black and shiny and covered in little gold leafs. Then he pulled out a little glass bottle. He pulled the top off of the bottle and a pretty smell filled the air. Lavender? He took my lamp oil from the bed-table and filled up the little pot, then put in a tiny droplet from the bottle, and lit a wick. The pretty lit lamp lit up on my bed-table and the smell of flowers filled the room. I smiled tiredly. It was nice.

Griff smiled again, brushing my hair away from my face. 

“Do you like your present?”

“Uh-huh. Thanks Griff.”

“You’re welcome kiddo.”

“Griff?”

“Yeah sis?”

“Will you take me on an adventure someday? When I’m old enough?”

Griff hesitated, then he smiled softly, I think a little bit sadly. “Sure I will Karri. You can come with me someday, but first you have to be big and strong.”

“Then I’m gonna get as big and strong as I can. Bigger and stronger than you even.”

He chuckled and ruffled my hair. “I bet you will kiddo. Then we’ll go on that trip, together.”

I nod, smiling sleepily. “Promise?”

“I promise. Now get some rest, okay?”

“Okay. I love you Griff.” 

“I love you too Karri.” 

[kalluun-patangaroa]

SUEDE: THE FAN-ISH INQUISITION

www.nme.com, April 5-7, 1999

You asked and they answered. NME caught up with Suede and put your questions to them.

Day 1 (April 5)

What’s the worst insult anyone’s shouted at you? (Fred Telfer, London)

Mat: “‘Effete southern wankers.’ Someone shouted that repeatedly through our first ever Scottish gig.”

Simon: “I was in the toilet at that gig, and this bloke came up to me and said, ‘Have you seen Sede? I’m going to smash their teeth in.’ I just pretended to be from Scotland. The hard part.”

Brett: “Someone once shouted, ‘You sound like Rod Stewart.'”

Mat: “No, they said, ‘We remember Rod Stewart.'”

Brett: “Oh, that’s it. That was at a time when everyone was into bands like The Wonder Stuff, and we were playing ballads. I think the Scottish crowd thought we were old hat.”

Brett, did your arse ever get sore from hitting it with your tambourine? (Kieren Kelly, Ireland)

Brett: “I used to get a lot of bruising, that’s why I don’t do it any more. I put my aggression into singing these days rather than self-flagellation.”

Are there any songs you wish you’d never written? (Debbie Harding, York)

Brett: “‘Stay Together’. I don’t know why, it’s just not one of my favourites. It was the sole time in our career when one of our records has been successful because of hype. We’ve been accused of that a lot, but that was the only time when it was true. It was just style over content.”

Neil: “I’ve only written three, so I haven’t got much to regret.”

I read somewhere that after you moved out of one of your flats, the council had to have it fumigated. Is that true? And do you like vacuuming as much as Nicky Wire? (Gary Regis, Leicester)

Mat: “That was in The Mirror, wasn’t it?”

Brett: “That’s a bit of an exaggeration. What happened was we were in the middle of a tour, and we finished a gig and I had one too many shandies and a couple of other things, and I was moving house.

“Me and a couple of friends were sitting on my bed while these removal men went around my house throwing things in plastic bags while we were off our tits. It was a bit of a mess when we left, and I apologise to the people who moved in afterwards.

“These days I find vacuuming and washing-up quite therapeutic. I hate having a messy house, it makes me really depressed, so I try to keep my environment clean.”

Which one of you has got the biggest ego? (Softywat, West Sussex)

Brett: “Definitely not me, ha ha. I don’t think any of us has got a big ego, to be honest. It’s another popular misconception about the band. We don’t all need to be pampered, none of us are that fragile. Possibly a few years ago, I had a bit of one, but I think I’ve managed to chip away at that. I don’t feel particularly ego-driven any more.”

If you could stick pins in a voodoo doll of anybody on earth, who would it be? (Kirsty Irving, Grimsby)

Brett: “I don’t have any bad intentions to anyone really. I think when you have bad intentions to other people, you’re just looking for someone else to blame for where you’ve gone wrong with your life. It’s just a coward’s way out, and I try not to entertain thoughts like that. So, nobody.”

What were the first records you bought? (Emily Mugford, Chertsey)

Richard: “My first record was ‘Thriller’ by Michael Jackson. I think I was about six.”

Brett: “‘Never Mind The Bollocks…’ by the Sex Pistols was the first album I bought, and the first single was ‘Wuthering Heights’ by Kate Bush.”

Mat: “I think it was ‘Abba – The Album’. The one with ‘Thank You For The Music’ on it, anyway.”

Neil: “Mine was ‘Another Brick In The Wall (Part Two)’.”

Brett: “Woah, what a record!”

Mat: “What a youngster!”

Neil: “I thought it was amazing.”

Brett: “I loved the video with all the kids and that. I used to have the sleeve painted on my wall. The headmaster.”

Simon: “Ever? David Bowie, ‘Low’. Shall I tell you why? I thought he was a punk, because he had orange hair. I then went out and bought ‘Never Mind The Bollocks…’ after that.”

Brett, were you good at games at school? (Clint Stone, Yeovil) 

Brett: “Yeah, I was actually. When you’re young, sport is really important, or at least it was at my school. I held the school record for the 800m for a couple of years. I was a good middle-distance runner. I used to play for the county at football as well.

“It was the only way to avoid getting beaten up. All the bullies tended to leave the kids who were good at sport alone, and not take them into the corner of the field and kick shit out of them. I fancied being an athlete when I was a kid, and then what happens, you get into cigarettes and girls and pop music, and you just end up a fat bloated fool.”

Which member of Suede can drink the most beer? (Mike Crisp, Brighton)

Mat: “Richard, probably.”

Richard: “I don’t think so.”

Brett: “Well, you’re the one who regularly empties their mini-bar wherever we go. Even if we’ve got day rooms. He brushes his teeth with vodka, he does.”

Richard: “Not really.”

Brett: “Well, yes. Who are you trying to kid? This is the man who has a bar in his bag. You sit in the back of a taxi with him and when you get out there’s glasses littered everywhere. That’s no exaggeration. After the pubs shut, you don’t try to find a dodgy offie, you just look in Richard‘s bag. That’s the truth, Mate.”

Simon: “He drinks anything, him.”

What do you say to NME’s editor, who recently included you alongside Ocean Colour Scene, Cast and Reef in a list of bands who “have nothing to say” (NME, April 3)? (Dave Thorley, Shropshire)

Brett: “I don’t think it’s true, to be honest.”

Mat: “There’s always this assumption that if you have something to say, you have to say it in terms of politics and social conditions.”

Brett: “I totally agree. When we’re in places like Germany, we’re always asked, ‘Why are you not political?’ and my answer to that is always the same. If you don’t understand the politics of the songs, then you haven’t looked into them. The songs aren’t flag-waving, they’re more subtle than that.

“I think I’m getting more interested in the music as I’m getting older, but I don’t think that’s a bad thing. I don’t think you lose that fire for life. As long as you’re inspired and have a real passion and rage for your music, that’s something to say in itself. That’s not a cop-out, that’s just how I feel about music and the band.”

Brett, you’re always photographed wearing a silver bracelet. Who gave it to you? (Samantha Jones, London)

Brett: “It was from a fan, actually. Someone sent it to me for my birthday. It’s just a cheap, silver-plated one, but I like it. I’m quite superstitious, and I wear a lot of my jewellery for that reason. This bracelet is a perfect example, it’s been quite lucky. I wrote lots of the album wearing it, so it’ll continue to be on my wrist until something goes wrong.”

When was the last time you cried, and why? (Gontie Tommy, Belgium)

Brett: “I think the last film that I cried at was Watership Down when I was young. The closing scene was really fucking sad.

“My sister used to read books to me, she liked reading to me so much she used to pay me 2p an hour to listen. She’d read stuff like Watership Down and Lord Of The Rings, and I’d cry at that too.”

Simon: “I don’t think I’ve ever cried while watching a film.”

Brett: “Neil?”

Neil: “Nah.”

Simon: “Oh, he’s a butch lad.”

Day 2 (April 6)

Have you dumbed down your lyrics to the point where they’re patronising to the listener? (Tom Stubbs, Dartford)

Brett: “I don’t think they are patronising. If you want to look for intelligence in lyrics, there’s a lot more of it in simplicity. I think the lyrics to our new album are a lot more intelligent than anything on ‘Dog Man Star’.”

Mat: “There’s a difference between dumbing down and being universal. The majority of people who buy Suede records aren’t English, their first language isn’t English.”

Brett: “When you go abroad people are just mystified about what the early stuff is all about. This is an interview for an English music paper, so everyone knows all the cultural reference points, but there’s a whole world out there and I think it’s important to communicate to them as well.

“As I’ve said before, the blueprint for a lot of lyrics on this album came from reading writers I really like, like Camus. His words are just like a simple painting of a triangle or a square or something. There’s nothing clever-clever about them, they’re just there. They describe a situation with a couple of simple brush strokes. That’s what I was trying to do on ‘Head Music’, and if that’s patronising, then sue me.”

What sort of cigarettes do you smoke? (Laura Pike, Aberdeen)

Brett: “Benson & Hedges. It’s always been the same. Mat smokes Silk Cut, but then he doesn’t count.”

If you could be any character in EastEnders, who would it be? (Sarah Glanville, London)

Brett: “I quite like Matthew Rose. I like the real ones P Matthew, Tony, people like that. I can imagine being one of them, they’re in the same sort of age-band. I really like the Mitchells as well.

“Actually, I think I’d be like Phil in the old days. He’s lost the plot a bit as a character since he gave up drink, but I used to love Phil. I’d regularly have dreams about hanging out with him and Grant, and committing various crimes.”

Simon: “I’d be Ian Beale, because I’ve always wanted to own a 50p/’1 shop.”

Brett: “Everyone hates him though, he’s the most hated man in the square.”

Simon: “Suits me.”

Neil: “I’d be Reg Cox (Reg Cox was found dead in the first episode after never speaking a word P EastEnders Ed).”

Richard: “I’d like to be Nick Cotton, but I don’t think I could pull it off. Every time he’s been in it, it’s been great. The time he tried to murder Dot was brilliant.”

Brett: “The best one was when he came back and pretended to be a Christian. That was really sinister. And I love Dot Cotton. Charlie was great as well.”

Tell us about your brown rice diet… (Johnny Robinson, Kettering)

Brett: “I still eat brown rice every morning. You get hooked on it, because it’s just so clean and good for you. I’m really looking after my body at the moment. I spent so many years abusing it, it’s time to give it a break I think.”

Mat: “I met someone at a Super Furry Animals gig who was such a Suede fan he’d started just eating brown rice. I was trying to convince him that you don’t have to do that to be a Suede fan. He should have seen Brett a few minutes earlier, he had a whole load of prawns stuffed into his mouth.”

Brett: “You’ve got to make sure you get the right sort of rice. It can’t just be brown, it’s got to be wholegrain. What I recommend to our fans is go to a standard Indian restaurant and have a fish masala. That’s very nice. I eat like a horse these days. Brown rice just gives you energy.”

Brett, did you ever want to punch Damon Albarn? (Paperback Rioter, Walthamstow)

Brett: “Punch? Nah, I’m not a violent person. Lots of people have had a go at me, but you just have to learn to deal with it because you’re always going to be a target for someone.”

Suede always seem well-groomed. How vain are you? (Jackie Long, Manchester)

Brett: “Personally, I’m pretty vain. You can only afford not to be if you’re really confident about yourself. If you’re always sticking your face in front of a camera and looking like a dog, you try to do something about it, don’t you? I spend a lot of time looking in the mirror just to iron the creases and get rid of stray bits of fluff.

“Simon‘s quite vain. The first thing he does when he gets into a hotel room is unpack his huge case of toiletries. He’s got five different sorts of aftershave, you name it. So actually, he’s the vainest member of the band, and probably the best dressed.”

Simon: “Yes, I’m glad you’ve noticed my Gucci shirt. Mat‘s got the best shoes, though.”

Mat: “They’re from Prada.”

Richard: “They’ve still got that revolting stain on them.”

Mat: “(Sheepishly) Yeah, someone was sick on them. Me, actually.”

Brett, are you still an eco-warrior (A reference to a recently unearthed school essay in which Brett complained about vandals defacing trees)? (Leonard Brown, Portsmouth)

Brett: “Oh God! I was eight years old. Listen, right, all that stuff from my past, anyone who wants to criticise that, I’d like to ask them what they were like when they were that age. When you’re eight years old you’re not boozing and injecting drugs into your eyes, are you? You’re just into stupid things. And no, I’m not an eco-warrior, it’s not something that keeps me awake at night.”

Neil: “He does live in a tree, though.”

Brett: “I have concessions to a green lifestyle, but it’s only buying eco-friendly washing powder. I’m not obsessive about it.”

Is it true you only listen to your own music and surround yourself with people who admire you in obsessive and fanatic ways? (Moa Ranum, Sweden)

Brett: “No, that’s bollocks. A lot of my close friends are into the band, but there are a lot of friends who’ve never heard a Suede song. A lot of our friends are ravers, and the music we make has no connection with their life at all.”

Simon: “My best friend in Scotland hates us.”

Brett: “I don’t think we’re that fragile that we need a load of people telling us we’re great. I think we’ve grown out of that to be honest.”

Day 3 (April 7)

Does Neil like antiques? (Purple Girl, England)

Neil: “I’m glad you asked me that. Not really, and I hate watching The Antiques Roadshow. It’s always shown in the winter on Sunday evenings, and it’s really depressing. It’s always dark outside. It’s so English, and it’s all part of that dreary idea of what it is to be English. It’s really parochial, seedy, it’s all about poking your nose into someone else’s business.”

People bully me at school for liking Suede. What should I say to defend myself? (Barry Beautiful One, Carlisle)

Brett: “Tell them they’re the cowards. If they have to persecute someone to make their own lives seem better then that’s pathetic. Tell them we’re going to go up to their school and get them.

“I don’t know, when you’re into music at school it says a lot about your identity and personality, and a lot of it was about getting into trouble with other people. You have to break an egg to make an omelette, don’t you?”

Your life depends on collaborating musically with either Damon Albarn or Bernard Butler. Which one do you choose? (Derek Brodie, Manchester)

Mat: “Well, we’ve done one of them, so it would have to be Damon.”

Brett: “What song would we do? We’d probably do a cover of ‘I’ve Got A Lovely Bunch Of Coconuts’.”

Mat: “In a ragga stylee.”

Simon: “He’ll probably phone us up now and demand to know how we knew what he was working on.”

Have Suede become a parody of themselves? (John Rickleford, Kent)

Brett: “Not at all. Part of being in a band is being a parody. I don’t think anyone will listen to ‘Head Music’ and think it’s a parody of Suede. I think what we’ve done on it is develop the sound of the band, but keep to the heart of what Suede‘s all about.

“It’s true that there are certain constants in Suede‘s world that we go back to, but there’s a fine line between repetition and just having a lexicon of words to fall back on. Sometimes I fall the wrong side of it, but I like to have a palette of words that I use, like an artist has a style. That’s part of what makes Suede what they are.”

[h0nie]

Number 29 | Chapter One

11.25.18 

↳ m.list | prologue | 01 | 02

pairing: athlete!yoongi x photographer!reader

genre: drama, humor, au

word count: 8k

⌜ a/n ⌟ fun fact: the corgi part is based off an actual experience I had with my sister. Also, the mentioning of the football players is exactly what I saw one of them do, absolutely disgusting.

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

Through your eyes, you viewed the world uniquely from others; a captivating place that men and women were given the privilege to walk on. 

Who knew, that observing through the clear lenses of a camera, anyone, even a living creature was able to experience the euphoric feeling that displayed in front of them; coordinating yourself within various of angles that you wouldn’t believe to envision that existed before you — just through the thickness of a lens. 

From the scintillating sun that dazzled beautifully off the reflection of the ocean sea to capturing the quintessential moment of the ombré mixture viewed in the hazy sky, changing elegantly within a split second; pigments of autumn leaves shrivelling, ere dropping softly — transitioning to the winter breeze.

Snapping pictures of practically everything, you treasured every piece you took. You saw the perfection of it all, obtaining peace and comfort. Dwelling in your own little world, your own adventure; happiness through every landscape you came across.

After taking an interest in your high school’s photography class, you learned everything about the lingering emotions and distinction behind every concept; following the year by begging your parents in buying you, your very own black digital camera.

The camera that you loved and held onto so protectively throughout your entire high school days; keeping it alongside you wherever you went — you hadn’t stopped since — joining the yearbook committee right after, leading you here; Ridgeview’s newspaper editor.

Outside on the team’s football field, where you laid. Your entire body sprawled out on the grass while you held your camera above your face. The glasses that were previously on your nose, were now settled on your forehead as you looked through the pictures you had taken from the recent basketball game; deleting the ones you didn’t like.

Concentrating and humming along to the music that blasted loudly out your earbuds, you were oblivious to notice a slim figure approaching. It wasn’t until you had accidentally clicked out of the pictures and saw a face pop up, focusing into view — smiling as they leaned down at you.

You violently shook, “Jesus Christ!” You shrieked, nearly dropping your camera on your face.

You took out your earbuds just in time to hear a faint laugh escaped from their mouth; plopping themselves next to you.

“You should have seen the look on your face. Like, you’ve seen a ghost or something.” She giggled, recreating the frightened face jokingly.

You propped yourself up, bringing your glasses back on your face and crisscrossed your legs. “Ha-ha. Very funny.” You were unamused and your voice made it obvious.

“You weren’t at the coffeehouse today, so I figured you’d be here.” Taking her hands out from her pockets, she rubbed her hands together producing a bit of friction before blowing into them.

Yuri Yen, a second-year student like yourself and was also your best friend. Before moving here, she had originally came from Hong Kong with her family at the age of 4. You met Yuri back in high school during your junior year, having not one, but three classes throughout the entire semester.

Since the significant convenience of having classes together, it was a great conversation starter for you — asking whether if she understood the homework or if she did the homework at all. 

The two of you even helped each other cheat on tests. Gradually, you seemed to talk to Yuri almost every day in class, instantly exchanging numbers and before you knew it, you two became close friends.

After graduating, you were excited and relieved to hear that Yuri was enrolling in the same college as you. Knowing at least someone, especially when that someone has been with you for years, put your mind at ease. You were thankful that you weren’t going to lose your best friend and be alone.

Her bangs shifted as the wind blew. A small smile crept up on your lips as you stared at her hair. She consistently kept her hair the same, even now. She never dared to get rid of her thin bangs that hung, along with her signature high ponytail that she wore every day.

Quite honestly, you had always viewed girls with bangs to be for preschoolers. You pondered, by having them at this age was a bit childish looking. But of course, your opinion had changed since learning that haircuts like these were popular in the Asian culture and after being around Yuri for so long, you realized that her bangs did as well, suited her well-rounded face.

“What’s on the agenda for today?” She re-adjusted herself, having now both her elbows securely on the grass as her face planted into her hands; legs up, swinging back and forth as if she were a little girl you thought.

“Well, for starters...” You drifted off, grabbing your camera and turning it on. You then handed the semi-heavy object to her.

“I’m now in charge of taking pictures for the basketball team. I had to take a couple during their tournament we had and I’m still debating which pictures I should submit for the papers.”

A constant beep came from the camera as Yuri clicked through. After a few moments, she stopped. “Woah, who’s that?” She turned, tilting her head as she looked up at you. Scooting closer, you peered over her shoulder.

It was the picture you had taken of all the boys together after they won. Her finger pointed at the screen, landing it right on top of a boy with dark brown hair. His expression was stone cold, showing no emotion. His eyes were dark, staring straightforward as if he was peering right through you.

“Apparently, that’s the almighty Yoongi.” You playfully joked. Yuri’s eyes widened in surprise, turning back to the screen, she clicked the button and zoomed in.

“No way, that’s who everyone talks about?”

You shrugged.

Why was Yoongi praised so much?

What was so great about him that people constantly talked about him?

He may be an athlete star in basketball, but that was all he really had and was known for.

“For a basketball player, you’d think he’d be a sasquatch. Thought he’d be a lot taller, to be honest.” You chuckled, nodding your head in agreement.

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You stood in silence, fiddling with your thumbs as you waited for your teacher’s approval. The room was quiet, with the exception of the ceiling fan quietly blowing; to your liking. Your eyes wandered around to occupy yourself.

Regardless, having been in this room for multiple occasions and knowing specifically what it held, you continued to stare as if you’ve never stepped a foot in the room.

Stacks of papers scattered around the desk as well as small photos of your teacher’s family members pinned to the small cork board he had. Your teacher, Kim Seokjin has been the head of the department since you’ve been here. You didn’t know too much about him, but overall, a nice man.

“Excellent job, _____.” Your teacher smiled, holding out your camera for your hands. You stretched out and grabbed it gently from him, letting the strap tug on the back of your neck as your camera dangled.

During your time out on the field, Yuri had helped pick out the pictures that were best for the newspapers.

“These will look fabulous once they’re printed. We also might frame some of your additional pictures around.” You couldn’t help but blush at the compliment. Adjusting your glasses, you looked up and returned a sheepishly grin after.

“You can start printing right away. The sooner, the better.” He clasped his hands together before placing them on his knees and got up from his seat. He grabbed a folder filled with papers from his desk and tucked it under his arm, “I’ll let you get to it,” as he made his way out.

You listened to the sounds of his footsteps distancing, although it wasn’t long until the sound echoed back. Presuming your teacher must have forgotten something considering he was a forgetful man at times, you saw his head peek back in the door.

“Say, _____. I recall you mentioning to me that you’d like to help out more, correct?”

You nodded.

A month ago, you had told Mr. Kim that you’d like to request something new to do, possibly join a new club perhaps? You’ve thought about seeking the art club, however, after one day in and compared your work to others, your untalented ass wasn’t going to cut it. So, scratch that off the list...

You had then asked for your teacher’s advice and he advised you that he’ll keep an eye out.

“Would you consider assisting the basketball team?”

“Me?” You gazed at him dumbfounded. “Helping the basketball team? By doing what?”

You didn’t know if your teacher had noticed at all, but your puny weak arms weren’t exactly capable of shooting a ball nor did you know anything about basketball.

He noticed the discomfort that was accumulating on your face and raised his hand towards you.

“Relax, they’re looking for someone who’s responsible and able to organized the binder’s spreadsheets, put away equipment, clean up — the basics.”

You nibbled the corner of your lip, hesitant about the offer.

“You don’t need an answer immediately, they aren’t in a rush. I think this would be beneficial and convenient for you, considering you're going to have to take numerous amounts of pictures of the team anyways."

He did have a point, though you still weren't convinced.

"If you do consider it and you have the chance, stop by the gym.”

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Your snug jacket sheltered around your body whilst the noisily sound of your laptop and binders shuffled in your backpack — within each step your fuzzy boots made against the pavement.

The weather was bitterly cold; fluffy clouds began to arise, cowling the blue skyline — unfolding itself to a grey-like colour above your head. Trees rustled against the wind, detaching several individual leaves as you crossed.

You heavily sighed steadily, scrutinizing as the frosty breath slipped from your lips, dissolving itself into the air.

Leaves from the ground swarmed as it spun in a tornado-like manner; as the gelid of wind whispered throughout the streets, its icy breeze slashing utterly through your layers. You gripped your jacket tight — the dangling of your hair dancing rhythmically to the Zephyr.

A red blossom tinged with pink faded, appearing subtly on the apples of your cheeks and the tip of your nose. You instantly nestled your face into your scarf as you felt the sharp shiver snaking its way up your spine. 

Still, you did not mind the weather in the slightest. The serene sound of peacefulness filled your ears, relishing your solus stroll.

As the outline of the coffeehouse came into view, you sensed the excitement pulsating its way through your body. When entering, you were immediately greeted by the lukewarm heat and smell of coffee beans; brewing deliciously, trickling in the inners of your nose.

You settled yourself in, taking your jacket off and planting it on your chair; ordering yourself, your beloved cinnamon dolce latte with extra whipped cream.

The coffeehouse to you was a perfect go-to place when needed to take your mind off things or on treacherous amounts of work. For you, you referred to it your safe place.

From the therapeutic aesthetic to the lightly lit fireplace; the amazingly tasting coffee — you found yourself coming here nearly every day, drowning yourself in the indie music that played softly in the background. All your anxieties, all your stress; swept away.

Removing the lid from the cup, the steam elevated beautifully as you took a straw, shredding its wrapper off and dunk the thin tube in. You sipped, savouring the flavour that awaited.

The hotness of the latte made its way down your throat; lifting the straw out before licking the cream carefully off. You were promptly filled with energy — motivated to work grind and finish your assignments.

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Approximately 8:30 p.m. The time radiated on the corner of your laptop. You had stayed in for a whole 4 hours, ultimately losing track of time.

You closed out of the tab and took your glasses off, placing them discreetly above your head. You rubbed your eyes and held them shut for a moment before opening them and drawing out your phone.

On your screen, text messages from Yuri. She had texted a few minutes ago.

⌜  Today 8:22 PM ⌟

Yuri: HeYyyyYyyYy, we’re friends right??  [8:22]

Yuri: and you know that I love you [8:23]

You: New phone, who dis? [8:34]

Instantly, Yuri replied back.

Yuri: omg- [8:34]

Yuri: oKAY, remember that time during English I let you borrow my pencil cuz I’M NICE [8:34]

Yuri: remember that time where I gave you my jacket when it was cold [8:34]

Yuri: remember that time when I bought you a juice box at the vending machine? [8:35]

You rolled your eyes and giggled.

Typical Yuri.

A pattern that you knew all too well. Whenever she was in need of something from you, she would unimpressively bombard you with things she’s done; like this.

You: Alright, shut up, I get it. [8:35]

You: What do you want? [8:35]

Yuri: can you get me food? [8:35]

You: Can you get off your lazy ass for once and go to the store yourself? [8:35]

Yuri: Blocked. Reported. Deported. Actually, block my number. You’re so rude ;( [8:36]

You: Yeah, yeah. Anyways, guess what Mr. Kim said to me today [8:36]

Yuri: which one? the one for the newspaper? [8:36]

You frowned at the text. You’ve only mentioned one Mr. Kim to her.

You: No, the janitor who cleans the girl’s washrooms. [8:37]

Yuri: MAY I REMIND YOU THAT THERE ARE SEVERAL MR. KIM’S IN THE SCHOOL [8:37]

You snickered.

You: He asked me if I’d like to help with the basketball team [8:37]

You: Probably not gonna do it. [8:38]

Yuri: WHY?! [8:38]

Reading Yuri’s text, you could practically hear her screaming at you for not wanting to go. 

Yuri: um, hellooo? Getting to see hot boys every day in their sweaty uniforms? YES PLEASE! [8:38]

Yuri: if you’re not going to do it then I will! [8:38]

“Ugh-“ You groaned, disappointingly shaking your head at her response. Of course, that’s the first thing she thought of.

Once again, typical Yuri.

Yuri: Seriously _____, I’d say go for it. You might even make some new friends ;D [8:38]

Yuri: It’s a nice change from you always having your face glued to your camera. Just try it out and if you don’t like it, drop it. [8:39]

Maybe Yuri was right.

Maybe helping with the basketball team would be a good change to your routine.

Your routine consists; waking up early every morning at the same time, going to your communal kitchen and eating toast with jam, head to your classes whilst Yuri annoys you, get back to your dorm, and then go to bed.

Pretty plain and boring.

Every day was the same repeated cycle so having miniature perks of having your daily dose of your desired beverage and you exploring out — taking pictures, you were undoubtedly grateful.

Besides, it wouldn’t hurt to have a slight change in your life... You were a little wary of the situation; though, you’d start deliberately thinking about it more.

Closing your laptop and placing it back in your bag, you swung your jacket on and grabbed the half-empty coffee cup. Your eyes fixated back down at your device, thinking of a shrewd reply to Yuri as you managed your way to the doors.

Your thumb tapped on the screen, unaware of your surroundings as you lifted your elbow that gripped the coffee cup to push the door. The door flew open from the other side, causing you to fumble — the chest of a stranger had thumped into you, stepping back in alarm.

You dropped the open cup, gasping at the unexpected sultry liquid that splattered on your chest. A brown puddle had now pooled; both your mouths hung open, processing what had transpired.  

“Shit! I- I um — I’m sorry! L-Let me get you some napkins.”

Tightly shutting your eyes, you pressed your lips together, taking in a deep breath. You held it; letting it out slowly, restraining yourself to remain calm.

My favourite shirt...

You mentally sighed, examining your ruined shirt — not to mention that the colour was white.

“Here.” A fist full of napkins held out in front of your face that the stranger had gathered. You clutched the napkins from their hand and comprehended who the boy was.

Face-to-face was undoubtedly one of the school’s supreme point guard basketball player, Jungkook.

His jet-black hair poked out from his baseball cap; having three silver ring piercings, dangling from its side. He wore an expensive looking jacket accompanied by his denim jeans and timberlands — he was pleasantly well-kept you had to admit.

You relentlessly stared, taking in his facial features. One thing that stood out; under his lip, a noticeable tiny black mole. How un-peculiar to have. You’ve never seen someone with such an uncommon dot before. Seeing up close confirmed what everyone said about him. He was unquestionably good looking.

Picking up the now empty coffee cup and disregarding it in the garbage, you began wiping the mess, in hopes to at least soak some of the stains from your shirt. Jungkook also helped clean the remaining mess on the floor and tossed the dirty napkins that you handed to him, including the cup.

“I really am sorry.“ His eyes avoided yours as he rubbed the back of his neck. You let out a sigh once more, “It’s fine, it was an accident. I should have watched where I was going anyways.”

The two of you stood stiffly next to each other. You weren’t sure whether to buy a new cup yourself or leave without saying a word. Fortunately, the silence was broken — clearing his throat, “I’m Jungkook by the way.” I know. Naturally, everyone on campus knew of him.

He smiled as he stuck his hand out towards you. Putting your hand in his, you returned the gesture, “_____,” giving him a professional firm shake back. 

“Let me buy you another one, wait here.” You promptly kept the grip on his hand, preventing the boy from walking away. “It’s really fine! Don’t worry about it.”

Now, we all know how these situations go; someone offers to buy something for you-you can’t accept it. It’s that gut feeling of guilt of not wanting to appear conceded rather than simply accepting — yet, many of us hope that the other pursues the offer.

“I insist. It’s the least I can do, please?” His voice; sincere and soft as his head titled adorably. Another cup would be nice, however, a new shirt would be greater.

“Okay...”

He instructed you to sit at a table as he went to order. When returning back, Jungkook carried a cup holder, carrying four cups of goodness. An eyebrow raised in confusion; passing your newly balmy cup of coffee in your hands. You didn’t question who the rest were for nor did he need to explain — wasn’t your business. Most likely for his friends.

“Do you go to Ridgeview? You look extremely familiar.”

“I do. I’m a second-year student. I’m mainly hidden in the college’s paper room, I’m their editor.” He mouthed an O shape; progressively, the two of you continued your discussion about school — leading towards the exit, allowing the fall gentle dust to whirl its wind, hitting you both. You watched as Jungkook’s hair moved with it.

The sky had darkened. Street lights flickered as well as the illuminating light that reflected from the coffeehouse, glistening on your bodies.

His index finger tapped on his chin, stopping himself as he hummed in a thinking state.

“I swear, I’ve seen you be-“

“Yah! Jungkook!” A yell hollered. Your heads subconsciously followed the sound. “What took you so long? We’ve been waiting for you!” From a distance, Hoseok and Yoongi emerged towards the well-lit frame.

“Sorry ‘bout that!” He lingers his eyes on you and simpers, “Got caught up.”

The lengthy boy shifts his attention towards you, “Caught up, ay?” Hoseok snickers, nudging Jungkook with his elbow prompting Jungkook to lightly bump into you.

“Who’s your friend?” He nods, acknowledging your presence. Hoseok’s notices the large stain on your shirt. Curious, he points subtly, wanting to say something but quickly seals his mouth and retracts his hand.

“Uh, this is _____. We just met actually. I accidentally spilt her coffee...”

“That explains the huge stain.” Hoseok chuckles.

A wave of heat flushed your cheeks, instantly shielding your chest with your jacket. How embarrassing.

You cough, shoving the encounter aside. “Nice to meet you, Hoseok.”

“Likewise.”

You gazed over at Yoongi. His dark chocolate-toned hair was styled messily; drooping forward — completely distracted by his phone.

A slap came across Yoongi’s shoulder. “Oi! Don’t be rude, say hi!” His nose scrunched, lifting his head to face you.

Hoseok gave him a look, “go on.”

“Hi.” Yoongi’s character and mood revealed he was uninterested. You gave him a tight smile. The tension was now becoming awkward.

Thankfully, Jungkook intervened. “She goes to Ridgeview with us.”

“Really?” Hoseok smiles radiantly. “Well, if we happen to see each other, you better say hi!” He taunts.

“I’ll keep that in mind.” As Hoseok kept the ongoing conversation, you tried your best to respond/listen to whatever he was saying.

You glimpsed over at Yoongi. He studied you, trailing his eyes, up and down at your figure — eyes matching yours. You immediately snapped away, staring at the ground. You shifted uneasily. You felt as though you were growing small, feeling Yoongi’s intimidating stare tower over you.

Hoseok checked his watch, “Crap, we better get going. We're already late as is.” You felt relieved. You all exchanged your goodbyes, except for Yoongi; who had already made his way. Hoseok apologized for his behaviour, jogging after him.

Disappointment stirred in your gut. You questioned yourself, presuming that you did something to irritate him to act so grim.

Interrupting your thoughts, Jungkook patted your back, “Don’t worry about him too much. He’s not usually like this. I promise you, when we meet again, it’ll be better.” You gave him a lopsided smile and thanked him for the reassurance and coffee.

Following his friends, the raven boy turned to you one last time for the night, waving, “I’ll see you around, _____!” Before sending you a wink as he walked away.

You watched the boy disappear and giggled, cute. Zipping up your jacket, you slipped out your phone and texted Yuri. You hesitated for a moment before pressing send.

You: Let’s stop by the gym tomorrow. [10:17]

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“Okay, hear me out,” a hand gently rocked your shoulder. 

You promptly finished writing your sentence and dropped your pencil down, directing your attention to Yuri — who was trying to contain her laughter as she held her phone incredibly close to her face, shielding her screen from your view.

“What if, the inspiration for the shape of bagged bread, was inspired… by a corgi’s butt,” she laughed, plummeting her phone on the table and sliding it over. 

The device’s screen unlocked, a full-blown image loaded. Sure enough, two pictures; a corgi’s bottom and bagged bread compared to side-by-side.

You glanced up from her phone, face kept neutral and lifted your glasses, massaging the bridge of your nose as well as letting out a low exhale of annoyance.

“Doesn’t that look like bread — ow!”

“Shhh!”

This was probably the sixth time the two of you-Yuri, had been constantly told, a numerous amount of times to keep quiet. You gave the old librarian another sympathetic look before turning back.

“Why’d you hit me?!” Yuri whisper-shouted, pouting while she rubbed her arm from your impact. 

“First of all, would you keep it down? How many times is that lady going to have to keep shushing you?” By now, both of you knew that this was going to be the last time coming here.

“We’re…” you gestured all around, “in a library.” You looked back at the screen, “And no, it doesn’t look like bread,” it did. 

You slide Yuri’s phone back, “Second, we’re supposed to be studying, why are you even searching that up? Put that away.”

She groaned, “Fine,” tucking in the small electronic in her pocket. “Good, now focus.” You opened your book and flipped to a page, Yuri does the same. 

Not even a second later, she stops and leans in close to you, “So, when do you plan on visiting the gym, hmm?” You ignored her and continued reading, moving slightly away from her in your seat. You were hoping she wouldn’t bring this topic up, you’ve been avoiding the gym.

“_____, it’s been two weeks.” No answer. “Come on, what’s the big deal?” You sigh, closing your book, “I don’t have time for it, that’s all.” 

The girl rolls her eyes and snorts, “Puh-lease, that’s bullshit and you know it.” She jabs her finger in your shoulder, pushing you back easily. You opened your mouth to protest, no, she’s right.

You did have the time, you simply didn’t want to see the boys, especially after your encounter — it was too… awkward.

Okay, maybe you were being dramatic over nothing, you still have exams to study and prepare for, not to mention, the newspaper committee as well. The other part of you was just, lazy.

“You do realize 2018 is coming to an end right?” You nodded, “What better way to start now, early — by helping the team!” She wacks your back, “Shhh!” Yuri’s eyes widen, forgetting that she was being loud, again and mouths a ‘sorry’, slumping in her seat right after.

You shook your head and pushed your glasses up, “You’ve been bugging me non-stop about this. Why do you want me to join so badly?”

Straightening herself, she took your hand into hers, “Listen, don’t take this personally, but you’ve changed a lot since high school… I just want you to try something new,” she pauses a moment to glance at your bag then back at you, “Something other than your camera?” You frowned, tilting your head.

Of course, there’d be a change. You didn’t think “changing” was a bad thing, it was you solely maturing as a person. The two of you weren’t high schoolers anymore, you were college students. One step closer to graduating and then, stepping out in the “real world.”

“What I’m trying to say is, you’ve limited yourself — more like isolated.” You kept your mouth shut, brushing off your best friend’s hold and picked up your pencil again. This time, it was Yuri’s turn to sigh, “Whatever,” and slipped out her phone.

You stopped writing and stared at the page. Were you isolating yourself?

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The entire time at the library yesterday was bothersome, you didn’t get any studying done. Yuri constantly kept disturbing not only you but the people who were studying nearby as well. Eventually, the librarian had enough and asked us to leave. Needless to say, neither of us are allowed back.

“Can’t take that girl anywhere, I swear,” you disappointingly shook your head and snickered. Checking your watch, it was still early, you didn’t have class in the next couple of hours. Perfect.

“Might as well kill some time,” shrugging off your bag, you unzipped your front bag’s pouch and pulled out your wallet; heading straight to the cafeteria to purchase some lunch.

You ordered yourself a regular sandwich and took a seat at an empty table. You peacefully enjoyed your lunch — stuffing your face full.

After finishing your meal, you decided that now would be the best to squeeze in a studying session, one that you should have gotten with Yuri.

Unfortunately, that studying session didn’t last long, having not being able to restrain yourself, you packed your things away and out came your camera; looking through your film for another deleting spree — a regular routine you’ve been doing so your storage wouldn’t be full when your next photo-taking adventure comes.

“Is that _____, I see?” That startled you, causing you to jump. The male‘s voice was low, you knew that voice. Steadily turning around, low and behold, it was none other than, Jungkook. “Oh, hey,” you say, watching him approach and then relaxing next to you. “Sorry about that, didn’t mean to sneak up on you,” he lets out a chuckle.

He plants his head on the table and stares, his breathing is irregular; heavy puffs force their way, his nose flaring too. Must have worked hard during practice.

A baby blue coloured towel hung around his neck, wetness dripping from his forehead — straps and the torso part of his jersey clinging to his skin somewhat. He was remarkably sweaty.

Normally, when men produced large amounts of sweat, the odour that drifts from them was utterly putrid to the human nose. Having experienced the stench passing the football hallway; dear god, as if infrequent weeks of trash had been piling up, waiting to be thrown away but was stored in their lockers — by far, gut-wrenching to you.

That wouldn’t be the critical part — no. Arriving back from practice, the athletes would shove their revolting equipment in and would overboard spray their ENTIRE gear with the popular cologne, Axe.

Assuming the cologne would help the situation; the mixture of sweat and the manly fragrance did not go well together at all. Players would carelessly spray it, believing the Axe would neutralize it. Instead, the complete opposite — the smell worsens as if you’re being suffocated when walking through.

You’d have to admit, Axe itself is a pleasant, wonderful smelling cologne on men, particularly, for those who’ve applied an appropriate amount. You found it attractive — a turn on even; when a man’s scent smells astonishingly satisfying. You didn’t know how that was possible, but it was.

However, despite Jungkook’s current position, you didn’t feel grossed out or nauseated. He may be perhaps one of the sweatiest members you’ve ever seen on the team — that never stopped the acknowledgement of how remarkably charming he looked without trying.

“Saw you sittin’ here like a loner, so I decided to do my good deed of the day and accompany you,” he flashes you a cheeky smile, enough for his tiny left dimple to appear. “I’ll have you know, I do have friends.”

Jungkook raises his head up from the table, tilts his head and cocks an eyebrow, “Really?” Straightening his posture, he pans around the room, palm hovering near his forehead, “Cause I don’t see them.” You suppress a giggle and shove the male playfully.

Now that you consider it, you genuinely didn’t have friends, friends — real ones at least. There’s nothing wrong with you, it wasn’t as if you didn’t get along with people, you talked to almost everyone in the class. Except, none of them spoke to you outside of the course nor did you put in the efforts in carrying out another friendship that Yuri and you strongly had.

It also may be the fact that your social awkwardness got the best of you. You see, when wandering through the halls and seeing a classmate, coming to your direction, normal people would converse with them and walk with them even. You on the other hand? Oh boy.

Imagine this, a confused or concentrated expression, doesn’t matter who the person’s face you choose, think of that. Now, add several complicated math equations and questions surrounding them, as if their brain is clustered. That’s how you felt. Overthinking everything.

Should I say hi? Hey! What’s up, how are you? Is that too much? Am I coming off strong? What if my voice cracks? Oh god, I forgot their name.

By then, you wouldn’t even say anything. Abort mission. You’d take out your phone, doing the bare minimum to dodge any confrontation.

Example: sliding up your control panel to lower the brightness, going to notes and typing in some random shit or, your favourite, opening up Instagram to scroll through your already seen feed — something, anything to make it seem as if you were busy texting the friends you didn’t have.

“You’re right, you caught me. I don’t have any friends.”

Jungkook gasps and dramatically slaps his chest in a defensive-like matter. “Jheez, I’m only teasing you. I can’t believe you don’t consider me as a friend,” he begins to sniffle, wiping away his non-existent fake tears on his cheeks.

In all honesty, you didn’t see Jungkook as a friend to you, yet. Nor did you think that he thought about becoming friends with you too. Recurring back to the situation at the coffeehouse, you genuinely assumed that, that was going to be the last of it, but here you were, pretending to console Jungkook.

“Anyways, where’ve you been?” He said, “Haven’t seen you in a while.” You glanced away for a moment, then bit your lower lip and looked at Jungkook, “You know,” you scratched the back of your head and combed your fingers through your hair, “I’ve been, around.”

“We should hang out soon.”

“Uh-”

“Us and the rest of the guys, sometime this week, yeah?”

Without thinking, “For sure, yeah!” Your voice didn’t sound like your own, a bit higher pitched than usual, indicating your uncertainty whether or not to actually go or to bail at the last minute when the time comes.

“Hoseok has been complaining to me about not seeing you, he still wants that hi by the way,” he said, wiping his face with his towel and then giving you a wry smile. You nodded and smiled back.

Silence hung between you two, both mentally scrapping words to say to each other to keep the conversation flowing. You fiddled with the band of your black camera, Jungkook noticed, seizing the opportunity, “You’re always carrying that camera, huh?”

Tucking a large strand of hair behind your ear, you fixed your glasses and replied, “It’s kinda necessary when you’re doing the newspapers.” Jungkook opened his mouth and muttered an ‘Ahh,’ recalling the time you had told him when you two met.

“That’s it?” You stared down at your camera and switched it on, “No, I use it for my own personal use too.” The raven-headed boy scooted close to you, “Can I see?” Motioning to the camera. “What about your team? They’re probably waiting for you,” you said, showing him your watch.

“Nah, it’s fine,” and held the base of your camera, “Can I?” He repeated and you hummed in approval, reluctantly settling the thing on the table in front of him.

“You took all of these?” He voiced his amazement. Never in his life had he seen something so mesmerizing, so eye-catching. No words could describe what he saw. To Jungkook, it didn’t look real, as if all of them had been taken off the internet.

You leaned in next to him, shoulders now touching to see which one he’d stumbled across, “Mhm,” a sheepish smile tugged at the corners of your lips.

A picture that you caught last year of a frozen lake; beneath the mist that swirled, thicker than the pure white snowfall on the ground lies a naked tree, dwindled with budded twigs standing in the center of the overflowing cotton candy — sea-dwelling sky.

You could feel it, only remembering the coldness that you witness, kneeling down on your knee and snapping the picture, a picture you were proud of. The wind carried as you stood still, soaking it all in; just nature.

“You’re good,” Jungkook examined the photo repeatedly, never taking his eyes off it. “Like, really good,” he said, and you blushed. Finally lifting his gaze off the screen, returning you the camera, “You should teach me sometime, teach me a thing or two.”

You shook your head, “It’s not something you learn from, it’s something you experience,” you gestured with your hands, “Experiencing it will make you want to achieve more. See more. Feel more.” He pushed his lips together and formed a line as he nodded, not fully understanding but was willing to give it a shot.

Suddenly, you heard the noise of loud chatter emerging its way from the doors. The sound of, not one, not two, but Jungkook’s entire basketball team carrying their duffle bags and water bottles in hand. Jungkook had spent the majority of his time with you that practice had ended.

“Ay, that’s where Jungkook went!” One of them shouted, tapping Hoseok. The red-head nudged Yoongi and pointed towards you guys. He immediately marched over and waved, “_____!” Nearing closer, Yoongi just a few steps behind.

“Hey, Hoseok!” You beamed, imitating the wave. “Finally got my hi!” The three of you mustered a laugh, but Yoongi. He wore his signature stone-cold expression, hands were shoved in the pockets of his shorts as he shifted his weight on his left leg, peering down at you.

Hoseok and Yoongi were sweating, of course, however Yoongi; taken back, as if you’ve lost your ability to breathe — he was glowing. The tips of his brown hair, clumped together, full of wetness, sticking to his forehead, covering his eyes almost.

He ran his tongue along his bottom lip and you felt your heart squeeze. You were lost for words, oh my god. You couldn’t help it, he looked so, breathtaking — literally. 

If sweating and shining at the same time was going to look this good on someone, so be it; Min Yoongi was soon to be trademarking it as his brand.

You found yourself staring and tore your eyes away, nervously coughing. You collected your being before smiling shyly up at Yoongi. He beckoned his head, ‘Hey there’ and smirked. He knew you were staring at him just seconds ago.

Jungkook wrapped his arm around your shoulder, “Our friend _____ here agreed to hang out with us,” You weren’t so sure about going alone with the boys, though, they seemed harmless. Maybe you should invite Yuri, that way, you’d feel more comfortable.

Jungkook shoots you a bunny-like smile, “There’s a carnival happenin’ on Saturday, you guys wanna go?” Hoseok clapped his hands excitedly, “Yeah! We’d love to go, right Yoongi?” He shrugged and licked his lips, “I don’t care.”

Hoseok was trying his best, attempting to involve Yoongi in on the conversation as much as possible  — a way to lighten up the mood between you two from last time, but even you could see the frown starting to form on Hoseok’s face.

“Right… We should probably add each other.”

Yoongi and you were the last to exchange numbers. He quickly finishes setting up the contact and waits for you. “Done,” handing back his phone, he does the same and gently brushes his fingertips against yours as he retracts the device.

Your heart skips a beat. You glance at Yoongi to see, he was on his phone, clueless. It was an accident, relax.

A groan escapes Jungkook as he stands up and stretches, hearing the sound of bone cracking. Snapping back from your daze, you lifted your glasses and rubbed your eyes before checking the time.

“Shit!” The three boys stared at you. You’ve been spending so much time with Jungkook earlier and sitting here now, that you completely forgot about your class.

“I gotta go,” instantly packing away your things. “I’ll set up a group chat sometime this week,” Hoseok said. You gave him a thumbs up and made your way, “You should come to see us during practice!” Jungkook called, “We’ll see!” You turned and grinned.

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The clicking of the bottoms of the shoes echoed on the hard surface. Yuri’s eyes observed as she leaned on the wall, following your figure pacing back and forth, left and right, over and over again. “So, do you ever plan on going in?”

You paused for a brief moment at Yuri’s words before continuing whilst chewing on your thumb’s nail; a habit that you’ve never seem to get rid of, a nervous habit that stuck with you ever since you were a kid.

“Never mind,” you finally said, shaking your head.

“What do you mean, never mind?” She cocked her head and pushed herself off the wall, both her hands now on her hips.

“Never mind, meaning I can’t do this,” you were still pacing, not as fast as you were before. You’ve been blowing this off for days until Yuri had eventually got fed up and basically drag you to stop by the gym and talk to the head coach.

You have been stalling outside the gym doors for the past 10 minutes, debating. Yuri’s expression changed, jaw dropped, dumbfounded, “You can’t do this?” She repeated, sweeping her hand over her bangs, now irritated.

“_____, we’re literally right outside the doors,” she grabbed at your shoulders, fully stopping you and spun you around, “Look, they’ve even made it easy for you,” her finger pointing at the gym’s direction, “The doors are wide open, just step in.”

“I know…” Trailing off, tip-toeing your way over. You peeked inside and scanned the room.

Not much to see, the team was warming up; two boys slacking off, your eyes averted onto the next one. Some guy picking his nose, next. One fixing his wedgie, umm? Your eyes then landed on Hoseok, he was practicing his shooting and then you saw Jungkook and Yoongi.

Jungkook’s knees were slightly bent, arms stretched wide, one arm somewhat higher than the other. His entire posture gave it away, he was playing defence against Yoongi. Jungkook attempted to steal the ball multiple times but Yoongi wouldn’t allow it.

A wide grin plastered on his face. He was having fun, enjoying himself, skillfully teasing Jungkook as if he had a chance. At that moment, it was the first time you’ve seen Yoongi genuinely smile, something other than a grave manner.  

Yoongi saw you at the entrance and brushed passed Jungkook naturally, the same technique he used back at the tournament. He dribbling forward, making direct eye contact and gave you a cocky lopsided smile as he shot the ball in the air.

Your breath hitched at the sight. It went by so quick, you almost didn’t even see it. You could feel your heart thumping, the common heart squeezes in your chest recurring.

Swish.

Yuri cleared her throat, “Quit your drooling. You can gawk about which one’s the hottest later,” you snapped your head up at her, her arms folded.

“I’m just — I don’t know,” this whole thing was more complicated than it should have been. You weren’t nervous, were you? Even so, what was there to be nervous about?

What if I screw up the organization? What if none of the other guys like me? I have to make a good impression or else-

“You’re overthinking things again.”

You sighed in defeat, you were.

You wanted to scream in a pillow. Why must you make things hard for yourself? You poked back in the gym, eyes wondering to search for Yoongi.

Yuri caressed your back, “There, there. All you need is a small little push-” and with that, Yuri had shoved you in. “Oh my lord!” A scream escaped you as you fumbled to steady yourself, almost face-planting the ground.

A couple of members had noticed you, directly howling and whistling at your grand entrance. Others didn’t bother, resuming their practice as if nothing happened. 

You sensed the embarrassment beginning to rise, burning away at your pink cheeks. You dusted and straighten your skirt, “Yuri, I swear I’m going to murder you-” you viewed back at the doors, she was gone.

The sound of your phone dinged. On your home screen, an unread text message appeared.

⌜ 1 New Message: Yuri ⌟

Yuri: good luck! [9:05]

You locked your phone, wait until I get my hands on you.

You shuffled your way in, the coach was nowhere in sight. Taking yourself a seat on the bench, you quietly waited and observed the boys. Yoongi kept his eyes on you from the moment the two of you made eye contact, watching from a safe distance — the opposite side of the court as you sat, hands neatly together on your lap. He couldn’t help contain the smirk forming on his lips, you looked confused.

“May I ask who you’re lookin’ for?”

His hair was blonde mixed with a shade of brown; a stunning colour, if you would-say-so yourself — harmonizing with the shone colour of his clear blue eyes and piercings on his ears. On top of that, he had flawless opaque skin, pinchable cheeks, and plump lips. He looked soft and elegant — an idol even.

He stood in front of you, wearing all black attire; black hoodie and black shorts. Nearly as tall as Yoongi you deemed. You’ve never noticed him before, a new recruit perhaps? Even so, he didn’t come off as the type to play basketball, but you knew better not to judge.

“I’m waiting for the coach. Do you know where he is?”

The male clasped his hands together and formed an ‘O’ shape with his mouth, “You just missed him! He left to take a call. I’m sure he’s in his office, want me to get him?”

“Oh no, no, no, no, I’m not in a rush! I can wait until he’s finished,” you assured him with a sincere smile.

“Suit yourself. May I?” He motioned beside you and you willingly scooted over to make room for the young boy. He took his invitation and sat pleasantly close to you, “I’m Jimin, and you?” He tilted forward, both elbows on his thighs as his head dipped a bit to gaze at you.

“I’m _____.”

“What a cute name for a cute girl,” he broke into an essence smile and you blushed, “You even have glasses, that’s a bonus,” shifting his posture, his head now resting on his hand. He’s definitely a flirt.

“What position do you play?”

“Hm?” He cocked a brow.

“I’ve never seen you before, are you new to the team?” You questioned.

“Actually,” he leaned back, “I’m their water boy,” he shyly spoke, stretching the hem of his black sleeves over and rubbed them together, formulating adorable sweater paws before hiding his shyness in his hands.

Explains why he wasn’t involving himself with the other members.

“I’d like to be on the team though,” he muffled — paws still covering his lower part of his face.

“Why aren’t you then?”

“Well, to be honest,” he combed his fingers through his hair and sheepishly smiled, “I didn’t make the cut…” You pouted, “It’s okay though! I like being their waterboy… It’s not that bad.”

Jimin averted his gaze to the court, “Sure, I’d rather be on the floor playing, but I also like my job. Even though, I only focus on keeping them hydrated and handing out towels,” he smiled.

“I really look up to these guys. Seeing them work as a team, picking each other up after a mistake and then, coming to me, telling me, that they appreciate what I do for them — they’ve made me feel as if I’m apart of them, part of the team. Especially Yoongi.”

You felt touched by Jimin’s words. You could see it, that he admired the boys. “Yoongi’s a great captain by the way. He may look tough, but he’s nothing but a teddy bear. You didn’t hear it from me though,” the both of you giggled.

You couldn’t imagine the way Jimin described him — maybe, just maybe, Min Yoongi wasn’t so bad after all.

[the-fiction-witch]

From The Sea P3

REAL LIFE: X LITTLE MERMAID COUPLE: TBS X READER RATING: SWEET + CUTE!

PART 1:http://whatifwearefiction.tumblr.com/post/181996932392/from-the-sea-p1

PART 2:http://whatifwearefiction.tumblr.com/post/182023476554/from-the-sea-p2

The gardens where quiet almost dead quiet, I reached the little metal gate, pushing it open with a quiet creek I hopped out and shut it again I felt so happy taking my shoes off and running though the whispy grass till my feet reached the soft sand I giggled opening my little bag as I walked across the sand picking up cute and sweet little shells putting them in my bag I kneeled down close by the waters edge picking up a little thing it glintered in the moonlight it was a bit of glass but the days at sea and on the sand had sanded it down so it was duffered and no sharp at all I liked it so I put it in my bag I heard a strange sound like something diving in or out of the water I looked around nothing I saw a little bit away from me a mark in the sand it looked like the marks of where a fish had been dragged out of the water but it must have been huge lucky fisherman I guess when suddenly my eyes when dark.

“Ehh who's there?” I complain as I felt hands over my eyes no answer “show yourself!” I complain

“Guess who?” a voice asks behind me

“Hehhe Thomas let me go” I complain

“Alright” he laughs letting me see and I turned to see him he looked the same as last I saw him his hair all wet again “hello princess” He smiles

“hello Thomas” I laugh

“I brought you a present” He smiles grabbing a large swirly shell with little golden edges and handing it to me I looked at it, it was beautiful the most wonderful shell I had seen

“Where did you find this?” I ask

“Ohh just down the beach a little” he shrugs “I know what your like with shells” He laughs

“Umm thank you” I smile putting it in my bag “What's that?” I ask as I spotted something strange on his neck I couldn't tell in the dark and from here what it was

“Ohh nothing” He says covering it up with his hand

“Let me see” I giggle moving closer tugging his collar to see it neck better and he moved his hand and nothing was there

“see nothing” He laughs

“Ohh? Could have swarn I saw... Nevermind, just my head playing tricks on me” I smile holding his hand “Come on” I giggle tugging him down the beach to our normal spot a few flat rocks that are beside the sand but lead out to the sea it has a few little rock pools on it with starfish and hermit crabs and it was our little spot always has been ever since we where little we just can't be out to late or the tide comes in and your trapped over here I sat by one of the little pools washing my shells and stones in the watermy feet draped over the side into the water

“What is your obbession with shells Y/N?” he asks me his foot up on the rock his elbow on his knee and his head leant on his hand his whole odly seemed to be far away from any water

“I don't know” I shrug “I like them like little trinkets from another world” I laugh “Can't you just imagine little crabs going to little crab shops paying for things with little shells or little fishes collecting nice shells for there walls in there houses” I laugh

“You a funny little thing” He laughs

“Come on Thomas, I love the sea, it's a whole unexploreable world under there no man can journy down into and tell the tale” I smile “Who know's what could be out there? In the depts of the ocean? Glow in the dark fishes? A kraken? Maybe even merpeople” I suggest and he smiled a little at me

“merpeople? Like what pirates rave about? Some big breasted fish girl with beautiful blonde hair that kisses anyone?” He smirks “You wanna see something like that?” he asks

“Wouldnt you?” I ask

“No, the whole concept is stupid, merpeople and humans what a stupid idea, how is a guy meant to get it on with a mer girl she has no...you know, knowhere for him to stick his thing” He explained

“True I supose, but wouldnt it be cool a human like create able to swim like a fish one with the water and able to swim forever... I would give anything to be like that” I smile

“anything?” he asks and I nod

“but everyone has crazy dreams I supose” I sigh finishing up with my shells and moving next to him resting my head on his shoulder

“Humm yeah, your right” he laughs putting an arm around me resting it on my waist and giving the top of my head a kiss

“Umm, what would daddy say if he found us out here?” I giggle

“Likely throw me out into the sea” he laughs “and lock you in your room for the rest of your life” he smiles and I giggle cuddling into his slender chest keeping my hand on his shirt

“Thomas?” I ask him

“Umm?” he asks clearly half asleep with me cuddle up to him

“Come on I wanna nuzzle” I giggle

“I'm as close as I can be Y/N” he laughs I giggle rubbing my foot against his shoe and ankle “Ohh Come on its about time we get back” he says

“yeah your right” I sigh grabbing my bag and slipping my shoes on to walk back we wondered across the sand hand in hand he walked me as far as the grass

“Y/N? Could you came back tommorrow just as it gets dark?” He asks holding my hands

“Course I will” I smile nuzzling my head close to him

“Okay, see you tomorrow Princess” he smiles

“Tomorrow” I giggle going off towards the garden gate I turned back in hope to wave goodbye but he was gone so I snuck inside and rushed up to my room looking and sorting all my pretty new shells.

I smiled cuddling close to my pillow I looked out and saw the rain it was a harsh storm must have rolled in over night I got up getting dressed and sitting in bed with my book I didnt see the point going around the castle I am never allowed out anyway and even less in the rain I tried my best getting into my book but I couldn't I saw the rain was starting to ease now so I went down looking for food and the delivery guy was dropping off food and such Mrs winters wasn't here she must have been up serving lunch

“Mr Lenly? Where is Thomas today?” I ask him

“No clue, dam boy never shows up when it's rainy, pitty I need him when it does” he sighs “Well good day to you” He smiles going out to his cart so I sigh grabbing a apple and going up to the living room where my mother sat having a coffee and my father sat reading his book

“Did you ask for that apple?” My father asked

“No I popped down to get it” I shrug going to the fire to poke it and toss a log on

“no you went to see him and got an apple to cover it, I know it's delivery time” He sighs

“See who?” I ask taking another big bite of my apple

“That delivery boy you like so much” he answered

“No, he wasn't working today” I shrug throwing the core of my apple on the fire

“Alright, not to many of those you'll spoil your dinner” he says so I grab a new book from the shelf and run up to my room I ran a bath making sure my door was locked and stripped off my clothes sitting in the warm water with my book after a while I threw the book and dipped my head under the water letting my hair move around in the flowing water I turned the tap off with my foot I blew bubbles into the water I like it empty out all the air and holding my breath my mind flashed back as it often does when underwater the earliest memory I have, I was a little girl I think about five I was playing in the sand collecting shells in a little bag my mother was watching me my father sat in the sand my grandmother was sat on the sand too drawing my grandfather picked me up

“Now Now Y/N don't want to get sand in your pretty hair” He told me tieing up my hair for me and putting me back down closer to the sea edge “There you go sweetie all the best shells are close to the water, you can watch them float in sometimes” he told me pointing to a little shell it came on a wave across the clear water onto the sand next to me to I picked it up and put it in my bag with a giggle “Don't go to far now sweetie” he told me as I went off exploreing, but the next thing I remembered I as screaming for my family they where screaming for me but I couldn't get back to them my whole body was underwater sinking to the sand when something had hold of me

“Your beautiful” it told me a voice I never knew and next I knew I was back on the beach with my family I sat up knowing I had been down to long I got out getting dry and quickly getting dressed as I would be late if I didn't hurry I grabbed my little bag and ran off down to the garden luckly knowone was around so I stuck out the gate and shut it up behind me running down to the beach as the sun began to set

“Finaly! I was starting to wonder if you where coming” Thomas laughed as I spotted him he had a little row boat on the sand and he was leaning against it

“I got held up” I smile hugging him tightly “what is this?” I ask

“A suprise, come on” he smiles taking my bag and putting it in the boat so I giggle climbing in and he laughed pushing the boat out and jumping in with me as we cast off he rowed us out a little while and I felt in heaven leaning my head on the side of the boat and running my hand along the little waves as we went out towards the setting sun I couldnt see much below the water but I was just happy to be so far from home the castle still in sight but so small the lights in the windows a blur they where so far away he threw a little bag down on a string making us anchor there “happy?” he asks and I nod “Good” he smiles sitting with me looking at the water but as the sea became still I noticed where I was looking into the dark mysterious deep he wasn't he was looking at my reflection in the water

“Thomas? Why did you bring me out here?” I ask him a little nervous

“well... you love the sea, I didn't want you to be parted from it anymore” He says “I would do anything to see you smile like that for me” he smiles moving some of my hair away from my face “Y/N? I- I wanted to ask you something” he says

“what is it?” I ask sitting up a little

“You remember the story you where telling me the other day... about the fishy people?” he laughs

“Course I do, I love telling you that story” I smile “why?” I ask as he took my hands

“and you said yesterday you would give anything to live like that to be part of the sea?” he asks

“Thomas what are you talking about your scareing me?” I ask

“Just- Just... I want to show you something, thats why I brought you so far out promise me you wont run off?” He asks and I nod very confused “Okay” He sighs shutting his eyes looking scared giving my head a kiss and standing up letting our hands be dragged apart he took a deep breath and jumped into the sea

“AAAAAAHHHHHHHH!” I scream “Thomas what are you crazy!” I Yell the sea settled again and I couldnt see him he wasn't coming back up I was about to jump in after him when I suddenly saw light coming from below the water like someone had opened a bottle of sunlight under the water “Ohhh nooo.... Thomas whatever the joke was very funny, stop this now your really scareing me” I said to the empty quiet as the light died down I kept looking around in case he remaurged somewhere else when I heard water moving I turned and saw Thomas his arms on the boat his hair drenched beats of water running down his skin

“Hi” he smiles

“Hi? You scared the living.... you really frightened me and you say hi what on earth was all that about?” I ask him “come on get back in the boat before you get cold” I tell him going close to him

“No... Y/N, Listen to me okay” he told me

“I am listening” I shrug

“The story you always talk about what is it called?” He asked

“Thomas is now really-” I began

“Just tell me” He laughs

“The Beautiful Mergirl, why?” I ask

“and who's the main character?” he asks

“My grandfather always put my name in there as the mergirl, but I always tell it as Lilla?” I explain “what does this-” I began

“and what race is she?” he asked

“Race?” I ask a little puzzled

“Like what is she?” He asked with a laugh

“a mermaid Half fish half human” I shrug “Now Thomas please can you just tell me what's going on?” I ask

“Okay” he smiles holding my hand “Well... merpeople?” He smirks

“what about them?” I ask

“Your story is real Y/N” he smiles

“What are you talking about? What do you mean my stories real? What do you mean? And what does my sotry have anything to do with you jumping of the boat?” I ask he just lightly chuckled at me moving a little away from the boat and... a tail poped above the water not a fish it was huge like the size of two legs held together and then a little more it had large half moon scales that where a dark blue but a lighter blue where moonlight touched them the large fin at the end was split into two large parts it was a thin fades light blue

“Please don't freak out?” he asked “You promised you wouldn't run off” He says

“hummm...” I say quietly not sure what else to say “Take me back to the beach” I tell him

“But I-” He began

“Take me back Thomas” I tell him

“Okay” he sighed moving to the back of the boat and pushing it along back to the beach it running to shore quickly

[nochuobsessed]

Bite Me || Pt 02

Bite Me Masterlist

Word Count: 4k

Groups: BTS, Got7, NCT, Twice, Red Velvet

Au: Supernatural

Pairing: Werewolf!Yoongi x Vampire!Reader

Genre: Angst | Fluff | Smut | Au

Warnings: Gore, Smut, Supernatural Creatures, controlling family

Previously:

“I guess I’ll see you tomorrow then.”

Before you could open the door, he pulled you back to him, and kissed you, holding your neck and waist. You fell into the kiss, before pulling away and speeding down the corridor to the elevator.

Yoongi sighed in amazement. Never before had a girl fully taken his attention like you did. He knew he had to have you from the second he heard your heels clicking as you entered the bar. Your scent was intoxicating, grabbing his attention like none other. He hadn’t felt like that before.

But you were gone, until tomorrow at least. Yoongi felt a longing to see you again.

And somewhere, back on the streets of Seoul, was you, who felt the exact same way.

You arrived back at the Celestial manor late, heading straight to your room to sleep. Vampires could sleep, and you enjoyed it more than anything in your immortal life.

The next morning, you woke up feeling a presence close to your face. Your eyes fluttered open, and you broke into a smile.

“Dracula, stop waking me up so early.”

Dracula was a black haired blue eyed kitten Namjoon had gotten for you less than a year ago. You had named him Dracula, finding the irony too funny to pass up.

The small kitten meowed, as he rubbed his head against your face. You picked him up into your arms, turning on your phone to check the time. You groaned when you saw how late it was, putting Dracula back on the bed and rushing around to get changed. Once done, you ran down the stairs to the kitchen, your vampire speed getting you there in seconds. You stopped next to the coffee maker, casually pouring yourself a cup. You turned around, and smiled awkwardly when you saw the three elder vampires in front of you.

“Hoseok, you’re back?” You said, trying to divert the conversation elsewhere.

“I came back last night, actually,” The hundred year old vampire said, smirking teasingly at you. Hoseok had gone away a couple of days ago, after having found out an old friend of his had died. He attended the funeral, but didn’t show any sign of sadness.

“I was out,” You explained, “I’m 63, I don’t need permission.”

“You’re 16…”

“Joon,” you cut your brother off, and stared at him harshly, “Enough. I fucked someone last night. I’m older than Momo-“

“Momo was turned at 19, you however, were turned at 16,” Jin said, quirking an eyebrow at you. Jin had been the one to turn Momo, doing it on their wedding night.

Hoseok sighed, the teasing smile still on his face, “Alright, as long as you don’t get attached. You have a soulmate out there who’s just as eager to find you as you are to find them.”

You smiled thankfully to Hoseok, and grinned as you saw the annoyed looks on Jin and Namjoon’s faces, “Tell us next time you intend to go out.”

“You know I won’t,” You said with a wink. You left the room, Hoseok following behind you.

You sat down on the single seater couch, and crossed you legs as you watched Hoseok sit down, “Thanks for having my back.”

“You smell like werewolf,” Hoseok said bluntly, raising an eyebrow at you, “You hooked up with a werewolf? What if it had been a Greyrose-“

Your eyes rolled, and you cracked your neck, shrugging to the older vampire, “I don’t know, and I don’t care. I’m the only one here without a soulmate, other than you of course. I should be allowed to fuck whoever I want to fuck. Who knows, maybe one day I’ll fuck my soulmate and carry on like nothing happened.”

Hoseok looked down, putting up the mental barriers he had been so careful to keep up in his 117 years on earth. No one could know his secret, not even his coven members. He smiled at you, determined to make sure you wouldn’t press matters further.

“Stick to humans, and vampires,” Hoseok said, rubbing his neck, “Werewolves are bad business. If you can’t do it for yourself, do it for the coven.”

Hoseok sped away, leaving you alone. You sighed, hiding your face in your hands.

Your mind went back to the night before, licking your lips as you did so. His pale face, dark hair. His groans were like a melody, softly singing in your head. You could smell his scent on you, and it drove you crazy. Every word he said, every part of you that he touched burned with a desire to feel him again. Your face grew hot, and you started fanning yourself.

“What is happening to me?”

Halfway through the Rose Forest, lived the Sirens. There were currently three mermaid looking demons that resided there, you had been lucky enough to become friends with all of them.

“Y/N, you came to visit!” Seulgi, the first of the three said, swimming up to the lakes edge. Her long black hair cascaded over her shoulders, her breasts covered by aqua scales, matching to her tail. Her eyes, like all sirens, were a bright blue, alluring to all non-supernatural that gaze into them.

“I’m sick of people older than me telling me what do you,” You complained, sitting on the grass next to the lake, “I can’t go out, I can’t fuck anyone without them being all nosy and telling me I can’t fuck werewolves-“

A splash of water hit you, as the next siren jumped out of the water and swam towards you, “You had sex with a werewolf?”

“Joy,” You groaned, “Not you too.”

“I’m not judging,” Joy said, “Taehyung has sex with a werewolf all the time. Then again, his soulmate is said werewolf.”

Your face lit up, “Perfect! We can talk, about how much better sex is with a werewolf instead of humans and vampires!”

Joy was older than you were… Much older. Pirates, who tied her up and let her sink to the bottom of the ocean, captured her in the 1700’s. She came back to kill them, only this time with a golden tail and razor sharp teeth.

Seulgi smirked, “You know, he pretends to hate vampires in front of Greyrose. He’s a member of the pack by default, whether or not he’s actually officially mated to the wolf.”

You dipped your fingers into the cool water, sighing as you looked up at the sun. You never felt the warmth anymore, unless you were caught without your daylight-ring. Only then would you feel any sort of sensation from the giant ball of burning gas that provided all others joy.

You felt a splash of water hit you, and you gasped in fake offence, raising your eyebrows at Taehyung, who’s red and gold tail had finally made an appearance.

“How long has my favourite blood sucker been here for?” He asked, winking at you smugly, “Why wasn’t I notified?”

“You don’t have a phone,” You answered, shrugging your shoulders mockingly, “Not my fault.”

Kim Taehyung was the youngest out of the three sirens. His voice was deep, but heavenly, luring people easily. However, he was mated to a werewolf, which meant he had to be careful around Greyrose not to let slip that he was friends with you.

“Jimin is visiting soon,” Taehyung said, his voice turning to one of concern, “He told me last night that they’re trying to find the Celestial mystery sister. I won’t say anything, but you’ll have to leave.”

You nodded your head in understanding, “Thanks for having my back. I have to go somewhere now anyway, I’ll visit again soon.”

You walked away, speeding off after a few seconds, eager to start heading back to your Werewolf lover.

Yoongi lied in his bed, staring at his ceiling. You had overtaken his mind. Anywhere he looked, his thoughts were brought back to you. He wanted nothing more than to hold you in his arms, breath in your scent next to him. Fucking you was just a bonus.

“Why do you drive me crazy?” Yoongi yelled out, rolling over in his bed.

He stood up, walking out of his room in his sweatpants and hoodie. His bare feet padded against the wooden flooring on the big staircase. He walked into the kitchen, grabbing out whatever he could get his hands on, which in this case turned out to be sandwich. He leaned against the stone bench, taking a bite out of it, savoring the taste of the cold meat.

“Hyung!”

Yoongi put the sandwich down, “Jimin.”

Jimin was the brother of a powerful alpha, but unlike his brother, he was weak. He was kicked out of the pack at a young age, but was found by Yoongi, who took him in.

“You found the sandwiches we made last night,” Jimin said, “Jungkook was hungry, which made Yugyeom and Bambam hungry, so they made sandwiches for everyone.”

Yoongi chuckled, holding up the simple meal, “I knew that those youngsters would be good for something.”

Jimin scrunched his eyebrows, “You make it sound as if we’re ancient. The only ancient ones around here are the vampires.”

Yoongi gulped, almost choking on a piece of the sandwich after hearing the word vampire. Did Jimin know? Would it matter if he did? Jimin was mated to a siren. Yet again, the sirens had always been in middle ground, compared to Vampires and Werewolves who were enemies since creation.

“Hyung? Are you okay?”

Yoongi nodded, putting the food down and placing his hands in his sweatpants pockets, “I’m fine.”

“You got laid last night,” Jimin pointed out, smirking to the older wolf, “I can smell the pheromones.”

“It’s driving me crazy,” Yoongi said, “Her scent- it’s like nothing I’ve ever smelt before.”

Jimin’s smirk fell, “Is she all you can think about?”

Yoongi nodded enthusiastically, “She was the most beautiful creature I’d ever seen.”

Jimin took in a deep breath, “Hyung, I think you might have found your mate.”

Yoongi laughed obnoxiously, “Jimin, you’re hilarious, but she can’t be.”

Jimin tilted his head to the side like a puppy, “Why not?”

Yoongi stood still, before making eye contact with his pack-mate, “Because a Vampire can’t be my mate.”

Jimin’s eyes grew wide, “You slept with a Vampire?”

Yoongi smirked, “It was the best fuck I’ve had in my life. Not having to hold back in case she got hurt. She was amazing.”

Jimin shook his head, letting out a breathy laugh, “I’ve never done it with a woman before so I wouldn’t know. Which reminds me, I’m going to go visit Tae.”

Yoongi nodded in affirmation, “Tell him to visit us soon.”

Jimin looked down, “He won’t. You know, I haven’t marked him yet.”

Yoongi looked to the younger wolf in surprise, “He hasn’t let you?”

The wolves had a code. One of them being that to mark someone without permission is illicit, that they must have their mates word that it is completely fine. Until then, the mating is not official.

“He doesn’t want to commit,” Jimin explained, brushing out his blonde hair with his small hands, “We stay immortal as long as we keep turning, right? But he thinks eventually I will get tired of being alive and stop turning, thus returning to aging normally. He thinks he’ll be alone.”

Yoongi’s heart dropped. Hearing that one of his pack member’s mates didn’t want to complete the mating process was every wolf’s biggest fear. A mate that did not truly accept you as theirs. One that did not wish to become one with each other.

“Jimin-“

“I’ll go now,” Jimin said, smiling sadly, “I’ll convince him one day. I’ll wait for him, we’re supposed to be together.”

Yoongi nodded and let the young beta leave. Yoongi would not know what to do if that was him in Jimin’s position. He had always thought that his mate would meet him, and she or he would join his pack, becoming his Luna and they would live long together, having many pups and leading his pack with greatness.

Yet, at this moment, as Yoongi imagined all these things, he finally knew the unknown face on his mate. It was you. Your face as he imagined all the milestones he would go through with his mate by his side.

A burning feeling filled his body. He felt the urge to be near you, to feel you next to him, or on him.

“HYUNG!”

Yoongi groaned internally, before being faced by the three youngest; Jungkook, Bambam, and Yugyeom.

“You disappeared last night!” Yugyeom said, pouting to the alpha, “We were gonna bring you food…”

“I ate a sandwich just now,” Yoongi said, looking around awkwardly, “And I’m about to disappear again.”

“Were are you going?” Bambam asked, “Off to meet with your lady?“

Yoongi’s eyes glowed red, “Shut it. What I do is none of your business.”

He pushed his way past the younger wolves, heading out the door into the dark night.

The moon shone light on the footpath. Not blinding, but enough so that he didn’t have the use his wolf vision. His heart was beating fast at the thought of seeing you again. Feeling your skin under his fingertips. Your scent being so close. He was going crazy.

He picked up the pace, pulling his black hood over his head. He brushed past someone, their shoulders hitting his.

“Hey! Watch where you’re-“

Yoongi turned around sharply, baring his teeth and flashing his eyes. The person froze, and backed away, his arms up. He ran off, leaving Yoongi alone once more.

The hotel was in sight. He entered through the gold double doors, practically running to the receptionist.

“Room A47 again,” the receptionist said, handing the keys over, “She’s already up there.”

Yoongi let out a low growl, his pants becoming tighter with every step. He stepped inside the elevator, impatiently pressing the floor number. He stretched his neck, his mind going wild with thoughts of what he could do to you. He wanted so much to eat you out, but shook his head when he felt himself drooling.

The elevator stopped, and he took long strides to the room, unlocking it and finally seeing you.

You were naked, lying on the bed, propped up against the fancy pillows, your clothes were folded nicely on the bedside table. You had been waiting for ten minutes, but you knew it would all be worth.

You spread your legs, taking in a deep breath, “You came.”

Yoongi licked his lips, dawdling towards you, “You think, that after spending the whole day thinking of you, I wouldn’t come.”

You smirked, motioning him to come towards you, “You’ve poisoned my mind. All I could think about was you, your scent. Your cock-“

Yoongi crawled onto the bed, hovering over you with one knee on either side of you. He silenced you with his lips, his hand working its way down your chest, to your stomach, “You undressed without me.”

You ran your hand through his jet black hair, “Undressing takes too long. I want to feel you.”

Yoongi chuckled, “Feel what? My cock? That can wait. But first,” He crawled back down the bed, before situating himself between your legs. He hooked his arms around your thighs, keeping you in place. He moved closer to your heat, letting the scent envelope him, “Just a sweet as I remember.”

He licked one long stripe against your wet core, groaning at the taste. You whimpered lightly, your chest heaving up and down. He kissed your clit, his tongue poking out to circle the sensitive bud. He moved so that his tongue was flat on your entrance, flicking your clit every now and then.

You were grinding your hips into his mouth, eager to get your long held release. You moaned out his name in a chant, thanking whatever god or deity there was for his tongue technology. You sucked in your breath, trying to suppress whatever moans there was, not wanting him to know the full effect he had on you.

Yoongi noticed the silence. He stopped moving, bringing his head up to face you. He teasingly inserted a finger, moving it in and out agonizingly slowly. He smirked, his lips glistening with your juices, “Sweetheart, your moans are the essence of my energy.” His other hand drew random shapes on your soft stomach, “No moans, no orgasm.”

You huffed. Based on your experience from the previous night, you knew any orgasm that he caused would be an amazing one, “Fine.”

Yoongi tsked, “I’m gonna need more than that, sweetheart-“

“Please,” You moaned, arching your back for him, “Yoongi, I need your tongue on my pussy. My wet pussy. It’s wet for you and you only-“

Yoongi growled animalistic-ally, tilting his head, “Fuck, this pussy is mine.”

He dove back in, this time his tongue working faster with his middle finger pumping in and out of you. He had you moaning in seconds.

“Another- finger-“

Yoongi did as you asked, making scissoring motions with his finger to stretch you out. You still felt slightly sore from the night before, but that only made the pleasure even more intense.

“Are you gonna cum for me sweetheart?” He asked, chuckling as your hips bucked uncontrollable, searching for your release.

“Yes- Yoongi-“

He bit his lip, before moving his tongue like crazy against your clit, sucking on it and grazing his teeth over you. His fingers moved faster, curling up and hitting your g-spot.

“Fuck-” You moaned, not able to keep it in you any longer. Your eyes turned black, and your fangs came out, a rare occurrence that only happens during the strongest of orgasms. You yelled out his name, your legs moving uncontrollably and wrapped around his slender frame. You reached the peak of your climax, and squirted all over Yoongi’s face. He kept going, rubbing your clit with his whole hand, eager to get as much out of you as possible. The droplets of your juice were trailing down his face, and he licked his lips, his eyes rolling back.

“That was the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen,” He said lowly, putting two fingers in your mouth for you to taste, “If it were my decision, I’d do this everyday.”

You got onto your knees, moving towards Yoongi quickly and connecting your lips with a rough passion. Your eyes had returned to normal, but your fangs were yet to retract, letting Yoongi trace them with his tongue. Everything felt right, your body in post-orgasm bliss and your lips on Yoongi’s. He felt exactly the same, wanting to hold onto you for as long as he could. His hands found your ass, squeezing it slowly as you pulled his hoodie over him. He had taken his shoes off already, and stood up off the bed, pulling his pants down, but leaving the Calvin Klein boxers on that he had worn specifically for this moment.

You crawled on all fours towards him, using your fangs and teeth to pull the waist of his black boxers down, enough to reveal his aching cock. You licked up the small pearl of precum off his red hot tip, getting ready to suck him off, before you were stopped.

“Another time,” Yoongi said, “I’ve waited long enough.”

He pulled off the rest of his clothing, leaving you both completely nude and vulnerable. You jaw dropped halfway, as he came towards you, feeling up your body, “Mine.”

You tilted your head in confusion, but thought nothing of it. Yoongi guided you to sit on the bed, as he laid back, waiting for you to make your move.

“How do you want me,” You said seductively, taking the time to stretch out your back, showing off your best body features to the crazed werewolf.

“Ride me,” Yoongi said, “I want to see you work yourself on me.”

You pressed your lips to his, straddling his waist. You hovered above his cock, and you felt yourself clench around nothing, the idea of his cock in you enough to drive you crazy.

Yoongi moved his hips up, his cock lightly hitting your entrance. You aligned him under you, before sinking down slowly, as Yoongi did the same with his hips.

“You ready sweetheart?” He purred, his hands finding your hips. You nodded, and he snapped his hips up. You let out a cry, before moving up and down. You grinded your hips every time you went down, wanting to feel all of him.

“So, fucking, tight,” Yoongi grunted in between thrusts, his werewolf speed obviously benefitting you both.

“Maybe- your dick is too big,” You moaned, your boobs jolting as you pleasured yourself on the werewolf. His hand reached up for your neck, bringing you down lie flat on his chest. His hips kept snapping up, as he attached his lips to your neck, his canine fangs coming out and piercing your skin.

“Fuck! Yoon-“

Yoongi kept sucking on your skin, blood drawing out. You were in a complete state of euphoria.

Yoongi pushed you off him, “Head down, ass up.” You smirked and did what he said, wiggling your ass as you waited for him to enter you again.

He pushed into you, the first thrust slow, before pounding into you with no remorse. He slapped your ass, and you let out a scream, before moaning in pleasure at the sting. You moved your hips back to meet his, your mouth pushed into the pillows to muffle your moans.

“What did I say about moaning sweetheart?” Yoongi grunted, grabbing a fistful of your hair and yanking your hair back. You shrieked, before letting out a crazed laugh, wiggling your hips once more.

He slapped your ass again, squeezing it after. You hissed in pain, and moved your hand to spread your folds wider for him, circling your clit.

“Fuck,” Yoongi said, “I’m gonna knot you so hard. Your womb will be filled with my pups. I bet you’d like that.”

You whimpered at his words, feeling your second high coming quickly. Yoongi’s hips moved faster, and leaned forward to whisper in your ear, “You’re mine.”

You moved your hips faster as you hit your high, your walls clenching harshly around his cock. Yoongi hissed, bringing a hand under you to rub your clit.

“Fuck- sweetheart.”

You felt him enlarge inside of you, the tip of his cock swelling up as he released his seed. You moaned like crazy, the feeling of being filled up bringing you more pleasure than you could have imagined.

When you both calmed down, you went to move, but was stopped, “Sweetheart, I knotted you. We have to wait for it to…”

“Deflate?” You teased, slowly rocking your hips. He let out a long groan, placing kisses down your neck and shoulder blades.

Yoongi sighed. He felt satisfied. He had never fucked someone and felt this good after. He wanted more.

He moved out of you, and you lied down on your back, your legs still spread apart. Yoongi looked you up and down, “I’ve never seen a sight so beautiful.”

You quirked an eyebrow, “You’re not so bad yourself.”

Yoongi chuckled, sitting next to you on the bed, holding a wet cloth you never saw him get. He lightly cleaned you up, making sure to keep his cum inside of you.

“Thank you,” You mumbled quietly, yet loud enough for him to hear. He gave you a small smile, and handed you a robe. You shook your head, “I should get home.”

Yoongi sharply turned his head to face you again, “Stay. We paid for the hotel, might as well use it.”

You smirked, “Yoongi, are you saying you want to post-sex cuddle?”

You hadn’t done that before, only ever having fucked and ditched. Yet you weren’t going to say no to him. You wanted to stay close.

Yoongi huffed, and hopped into the bed, pulling the covers over the two of you. He loved the way you smelt. You smelt like coffee, and blood. You smelt like the pine trees from the Rose Forest. You smelt like him.

His hands made their way around your waist, pulling you so that you were lying on top of him, your head subconsciously finding its place in the crook of his neck.

“I’m all sweaty,” You protested, not actually wanting to move. The rising and falling of his chest brought you peace, but his heartbeat was something you had forgotten existed.

“Go to sleep, sweetheart,” He said sleepily, kissing your forehead before dozing off.

You sighed, before closing your eyes.

[notgoingtohappen]

Revenge, Interrupted (Part 24)

1  2  3  4  5  6  7  8  9  10  11  12  13  14  15  16  17  18  19  20  21  22  23

A/N: *waves* here it is, 6 months later! (sorry) I’m a bit out of practice but please bear with me 🙏🙏🙏 the drama is just beginning :D

They had settled into a little routine the past week.

They woke up together. Stefan hit the gym and Caroline got ready for work. Caroline went to work and Stefan read a book. Caroline returned and they hung out for a while. They made a pillow slash blanket fort one night and fell asleep in it, tangled up in the blankets as the fairy lights twinkled above them. Sometimes he cooked, once they got dinner at the diner, some days he barely saw her if she was with Bonnie and Elena the entire evening. They went to bed together.

It worked just fine for him, he told himself and Lexi. They were a couple in front of their friends, and in private they kept a platonic distance.

Well, that night in the pillow fort had been almost magical, with the two of them laughing and cuddling more than they would have, but for the most part, they were strictly just friends. Stefan avoided touching her, and they barely ever kissed in front of their friends, sticking to pecks on the cheek.

But Stefan found himself missing the old intimacy they'd shared. Surely there had to be a line between angsty confusion and the distance he felt in his heart right now.

"Stefan. Mate."

Enzo's voice interrupted Stefan's train of thought.

"Hm?"

"What's up?"

"Nothing just... bored."

"You do seem excessively broody. All okay? I haven't seen you with Caroline in a while?"

"What do you mean? We went to the diner last night."

"Oh, right. That. Can I make a confession? I never particularly liked the food there. Too greasy for my taste, and I despise cheese fries."

Stefan shook his head. "So you pretend to like it because Bonnie does?"

Enzo nodded. "The things we do... anyway, I have to run."

Stefan stared into space as Enzo hurried out of the loft. Enzo was right, and he had all this time on his hands. Caroline deserved a treat or two her first week as a working adult.

This had nothing to do with him missing her or anything, of course.

~*~

Stefan checked his watch. She should be out any minute. He leaned against his car, slightly nervous.

Nerves, after everything they'd been through? It was ridiculous.

The doors burst open and Caroline walked out, chatting animatedly with a girl covered in tattoos and wearing heavy black eyeliner. Her gaze landed on Stefan and she came to a stop, a smile lighting up her face.

All the anxiety Stefan had been feeling literally evaporated into thin air.

Stefan never smiled much. Damon never let him forget it, slapping the "broody" label on him when he was nine years old. But with Caroline, Stefan smiled without meaning to, and all the time.

He grinned back at her as she across the street and threw her arms around him.

With her body pressed against his, her hair falling into his face, and the beautiful flowery scent of her shampoo intoxicating him, Stefan didn't feel those oceans between them. Despite himself, he lifted her off the ground and spun her around, letting himself drown in the sound of her laughter.

"Your boyfriend is hot, Caroline! Nice." Came a voice from the distance.

Stefan put Caroline down and they both turned to the girl Caroline had walked out with.

"Thanks Davina, see you tomorrow," She called out cheerily. She flashed Stefan a dazzling smile again. "To what do I owe this pleasure, Mr. Salvatore?"

"Oh, just thought I'd surprise you. With it being your first week and all."

She shook her head, her blue-green eyes glinting mischievously in the sunlight. "We aren't all trust fund Salvatores. I've done plenty of internships before."

"Yeah but you know, this time it's for the rest of your life."

"Wow. Depressing."

"Don't worry, I have another surprise planned after."

She perked up at that, but before Stefan could get another word in she suddenly stepped back and pulled out her phone, tapping furiously and then holding it up. "Well, we shouldn't let this opportunity go to waste."

"Right." Stefan felt a tiny invisible punch in his gut. Or maybe heart.

She quickly took the selfie and sent it to her group chat with the girls.

"So, a surprise huh? Spill."

"Nope."

Caroline let out a disbelieving laugh. "No one has ever succeeded in keeping a secret from me. Not even my parents when I was turning four. I'm the Queen of Pester Power, copyright Liz Forbes 1995."

"I think your dethroning is long overdue then, isn't it?"

Caroline narrowed her eyes in mock suspicion and got into the car, slamming the door shut.

Stefan sighed as he made his way to the driver's seat. What the fuck was wrong with him? He didn't even understand what he was doing. Was it some form of masochism?

He wanted more than anything to have a safe distance from Caroline, be nothing but good friends, and when he finally had that he went and did something to destroy it. And then felt bad when Caroline acted the way he'd been trying to.

Maybe he wasn't that different from Katherine.

He hadn't felt this conflicted since her. His other relationships were all so easy, so uncomplicated.

But love? The only time he could say that he'd been in love for sure was with the woman who lied to him, messed with his head, cheated on him with his "friend" Elijah, gotten him hooked onto drugs far worse than the weed his friends teased him about, and basically turned his life inside out. He didn't even remember it properly. It was all a haze of drugs, sex, pure hedonism and Katherine. Just Katherine, everywhere. Her long dark hair and tight dresses. The shine in her eyes that had fascinated and terrified him. The way she convinced him she both adored him and made him feel like she would leave him to drown if it suited her. 

Despite it all, she was the only woman he'd loved.

Maybe Lexi was wrong. Maybe he was more like her than he'd admit. And maybe love really was complicated and painful.

"Stefan?"

Caroline was looking blankly at him, but her voice betrayed her concern.

"You okay?"

"Yeah, just... brooding, I guess." Stefan smiled grimly.

"Your knuckles are white" she motioned to the wheel Stefan had been gripping far harder than he'd realized.

"I just... could be having a better day."

"Oh."

"Don't worry about it."

"Stop the car." Caroline said suddenly.

Stefan pulled over and Caroline turned in her seat to face him.

He gulped, suddenly aware of the tiny distance between them in the car, his mind wandering to the night at the party despite his best efforts.

He wanted nothing more than to touch her again, kiss her lips, run his hands over...

Nope. Not going there.

Caroline seemed self-conscious too, breathing carefully as she composed herself. "What's wrong?"

He couldn't help it. Caroline was easy to talk to.

"Maybe I'm more like Katherine than I thought."

"Your evil ex? Stefan no, Damon told me about her. You're so noble and kind and good-"

"Then why do I want to do exactly what she would do?" He heard himself whisper hoarsely.

Three things happened then. Caroline's forehead creased in confusion. The radio changed songs and Hypnotic came on. And Stefan Salvatore closed the gap between him and Caroline Forbes.

His hands were everywhere, up her shirt, in her soft hair, cupping her face. She was kissing him back, mirroring his urgency as she pressed herself into to him, her hands tangling in his hair. Stefan kissed her neck, eliciting loud sighs from her and making her scratch his back as she moved closer to him, her legs travelling against his and sending shivers down his spine. He got the message and gripped her hips, swinging her onto his lap, her arms going up around his neck as she gasped a little.

Stefan decided that was probably his favourite sound in the world.

She was straddling him now, grinding slowly, sensuously, mercilessly, sending shock waves of pleasure through him. Instinctively, Stefan recaptured her lips with his and resumed exploring her body, caressing her smooth skin as they made out heatedly. The high and sheer satisfaction drowned out any guilt or self hatred that might be lurking in some corner of his mind.

"Don't stop" Caroline sighed as Stefan's fingers slipped under her skirt, her grip on his arm tightening.

Don't stop, Katherine had said as they'd been parked in a dark alley and Katherine first had him try her drug of choice, rewarding him just like this when he'd gone through with it.

No, this had to stop.

Stefan pulled away, his chest feeling hollow as his body longed for contact with Caroline again.

Her confused gaze fell on him.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have done that" Stefan croaked miserably.

His words seemed to snap Caroline out of the lust-filled haze they'd been in. Her cheeks slowly reddened and she looked away, mortified.

"It's fine."

Stefan hated himself.

She moved back onto her seat and the ride home passed in silence. The first-class tickets to the latest romantic comedy in theatres felt heavy as stones in his pockets.

~*~

"What's wrong, Stef? Do you want some of this shake?"

His misery must be written all over his face if Damon was being nice to him.

"No thanks. I'm okay."

"Come on, you aren't. Tell me."

"It's Caroline. Just usual relationship stuff I guess. Feelings."

"Ah." Damon nodded wisely. "That old girl. I had that issue with Elena too." He opened his eyes wide and fluttered them in imitation of Elena. "You don't communicate enough, Damon." He said in a high pitched voice. "I never know what you're thinking, Damon. Sex isn't communication, Damon."

Stefan just sighed and went back to scrolling through Twitter. "Look at what Trump just tweeted. Fucking clown."

"Don't change the topic! Fine, if my relationship is too sexually unrelatable for you, maybe Enzo here can give you some advice."

"Don't look at me mate, Bonnie and I never fight."

"Never?"

"Nope. It's quite, how do you say it? Quite chill."

"No conflicts? No jealousy?" Damon prodded.

"Nah."

"Weird."

"Yeah, that's abnormal" Stefan added.

"Whatever, college relationships are different, I suppose. So, excited about your job starting next week?"

"Actually, I haven't accepted yet."

"What? Why?" Damon asked, shocked. "It's an NGO, Stefan. Your dream job, Mr. Do-Gooder-Save-The-World."

"Yeah, but I heard back from the publishing house today and it pays better. And I like books too..." Stefan trailed off.

"Oh, money-minded Steffy. I like it."

"Then I know I'm making a mistake."

"You have your whole life ahead of you, mate. Do what you think is best for right now." Enzo piped in.

"Take the one with more money and easier work and fewer hours, dumbass." Elena stood in the doorway, grinning manically, with Bonnie in tow, her expression unreadable.

"Uh, thanks. You good?" Stefan replied.

"Yes! Guess what? The boys get to town tomorrow!" She squealed.

"Boys whom?" Damon narrowed his eyes.

Elena huffed in disbelief. "Um, hello? My boys! Our boys!"

"They aren't my boys, let's be clear on that." Damon glared.

"The Mystic Falls gang! Tyler and Matt!" Elena squealed.

"And Liv" Bonnie added dully from behind her.

"Oh, I was just going to say Penny, but I heard she and Matt broke up, right?" Elena asked.

"Yeah, they did, right before the trip. Yikes." Bonnie grimaced. "He was a mess. Sheriff told me she found him wandering in the woods one night."

Just like they’d found Stefan the day Katherine had dumped him, high and disoriented and a wreck.

"Oh god. He probably needed the break then. Tyler’s probably helping him hook up with girls in every bar in the country," She smiled.

"So-" Stefan cut in. "Matt and Tyler are both Caroline's exes right?"

Elena giggled. "Oh man, I'm so used to Caroline being the jealous one"

Bonnie rolled her eyes. "Yeah, but it's no big deal. We were all kids and we've known each other forever. Lots of drunken hookups..." She pursed her lips.

"Yeah, Care and Ty broke up the first year of college and as for Matt, he was like a rite of passage." 

Bonnie shot Elena a WTF look and left.

"I mean, I dated him too! He was Bonnie's first kiss. Good old Matty-blue-eyes, blond-haired All-American boy straight out of a Hannah Montana countryside TV, sweet and safe and the first crush of nearly every girl in our class..."

Noting Damon's expression, Stefan changed the topic hurriedly. "Oh, okay. Well, have fun. Would, uh, Matt's sister be coming by any chance?" Stefan asked casually.

It worked: Damon burst out laughing. "Vicki was Stefan's stoner buddy."

"Oh, I don't know. She wasn't in any of their road trip pictures. Actually, all the pictures have been of the boys. Let me check..." Elena walked back into their apartment.

Damon turned to Stefan. "Should we be worried? Am I being crazy, or did I get the vibe all three of our girls are in love with these Mystic Falls townies?"

"You say ‘Mystic Falls townie’ like our mother and cousin don't live there and it wasn't our favourite summer destination growing up."

"I don't know, I liked the Bahamas."

"Seriously, Damon, Stefan, don't worry over nothing," Enzo said.

Stefan's phone buzzed and his heart skipped a beat. 

But it was Sarah calling, and he decided to take the publishing job. It had nothing to do with the fact that the building was around the corner from Caroline's workplace.

[xswestallen]

CinderIris: Chapter 7

WestAllen Cinderella AU

Summary: With his mother death looming, King Henry holds a ball and invites all the eligible maidens in the kingdom, hoping his son, Prince Barry, will finally find a bride. Iris West is a bar maiden, who would love to attend, but, she is very poor and can’t afford a nice dress or a ride to the castle.

Chapter 1 

Archive of Our Own version

Just one day after the royal guard announced that it would be searching for the girl from the ball by having maidens try on the glass slipper, the Prince was informed they had found a girl whom the slipper fit.

Barry’s heart leapt from his chest. That meant his dream girl was on her way to the Palace right now. He apologized to his tutor and ran out of the lesson. He changed into his best suit, having to retie the tie a few times because his hands were shaking with anticipation.

One his way down to the entry hall, the Prince decided to go to the garden and pick flowers for his beloved. A reminder of their intimate conversation from that night in the garden and a classic romantic gesture. Barry couldn’t decide which flowers to bring her. Would she like daisies or would she like tulips? He thought about roses, but they seemed too cliche.

The Prince paced around the flower bed. A terrible but wonderful anxiety made even a simple choice like this feel impossible. None of the flowers were beautiful enough to be worthy of giving her. Then, a patch of irises caught his eye.

The flowers stood tall and proud. Pink, yellow, white, blue, but mostly purple in color, the irises were all unique and intricate. Barry picked his favorites among them and arrange a makeshift bouquet in his hands.

He went to the entry hall, feeling closer to destiny with each step he took. When the doors were in sight, Barry ran towards them. He stopped abruptly just in front of them. On the other side of the door was his love. The thought of seeing her again made his nerves tingle. He took a deep breath, telling himself to be charming.

One of the guards posted at the side of the door smiled, a rare deviation from their typical stone faced stare.

“Am I that desperate looking?” The Prince asked.

“By the way you look, Your Highness, it must be true love.”

Barry smiled.

“Are you ready?”

“Yes.” Barry answered.

The guards opened the doors to the entry hall. The guard on the other side announced the Prince’s entrance. Barry wasn’t listening. His eyes widened as he looked over the people standing in the room.

Captain Singh and several other guards were there. A girl stood in the center of them. Barry’s eyes kept scanning, searching for the maiden who stole his heart.

But, she was not among them.

“Where is she?” Barry asked, rather rudely in hindsight.

The girl stepped forward and curtseyed.

Captain Singh held out his arms. “Your Royal Highness, may I present to you, Miss Patricia Spivot.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Your Highness. Please, call me Patty.” The girl said.

Barry barely looked at her. He was still clinging to the hope that the girl would emerge from behind one of the guards.

An awkward silence fell. It was broken when Captain Singh cleared his throat.

The Prince finally greeted Miss Spivot, though ee forwent the common practice of kissing her hand. “The pleasure is all mine.”

Captain Singh continued the introduction. “Miss Spivot is the top of her class in the forensic science program at Royal University. She is also the daughter of a the great and fallen guard, Patrick Spivot. May he rest in peace.”

“Thank you for your father’s service.” Barry said to Patty.

She smiled. “Thank you, Your Highness. I hear you have an interest in forensics as well?”

“Yes.” Barry acknowledged, but he didn’t continue the conversation with Patty. He approached Captain Singh instead.

“Captain,” The Prince whispered. “This is not her!”

“Her foot fit the glass slipper.” Captain Singh informed him. “Are you sure this is not the girl from the ball?”

“Certain. She is too tall, too pale. Her hair is too light and too short. Her eyes aren’t as soft and warm.”

“We were instructed to bring any maiden whom the slipper fit to the Palace.”

“Thank you, Captain. But, it must be coincidence the slipper fit her. She’s not the one I’m looking for.” The Prince sighed.

“Seven is very common shoe size.”

“I know.” Barry admitted. “But, it’s all I have to go on.”

He turned to the girl called Patty. “I am so sorry, genuinely, Miss. But, I’m afraid-”

“I’m not the mystery girl you fell in love with.” Patty finished the sentence for him.

Barry looked at her apologetically.

“I understand.” Patty said.

“I sorry for the inconvenience of traveling here.”

“I should have known better than to come. Of course, I knew I wasn’t the girl you’re looking for. I just thought it might be nice to meet you.”

Patty curtseyed and turned to leave.

Barry felt like a terrible person. This nice girl came to see him, and he brushed her off. Even though she wasn’t the person he was looking for, she was still a person.

“Wait, Miss.” The Prince said, halting her. “I’d like you to have these.” He gave her the flowers.

Patty smiled. “Thank you. They’re lovely.”

“So are you.” Barry told her. “Patty, you are very pretty, and you must be quite brilliant too. It sounds as though we also have common interest. But………”

“I’m not her.” Patty said.

“You will be someone else’s her. A very lucky someone.”

“Thank you, Your Highness.”

The Prince took her hand and placed a soft kiss on it. “Call me Barry.”

Patty smiled somberly. “Goodbye, Barry.”

♥　♡　♥　♡　♥　♡　♥　♡　♥　♡　♥　♡　♥

“Iris! Iris!” Cecile repeated. She banged her hand on the bar. “Iris West!”

That snapped Iris out of her daydream. She was imaging what it would be like when she was brought to the Palace after having fit into the glass slipper. Trepidation was fading and Iris was starting to feel eager to try on the shoe.

She’d decided not to tell anyone that she was the mystery girl. For one, she wasn’t sure they’d believe. Another, she wanted to wait until the guard came to her cottage and requested she try on the slipper. It would take them a while to get there, as they’d have to fit every maiden in the most affluent parts of the Kingdom before making their way to the South side. Iris wanted to be sure that Barry would not change his mind about this endeavor to find her. She needed to know that he was serious, not just going after her because she was a mystery.

“I’m sorry, Cecile.” Iris said, coming back to reality. “What were you saying?”

“Honey, you’ve been drying that same flask for twenty minutes.”

“Oh….”

Cecile smirked. “Iris, what’s gotten into you? For the past three days you’ve been acting out of character. Head in the clouds and stars in your eyes.”

Iris shrugged. “I’ve been in a pleasant mood.”

“You’ve been walking on air since the ball.” Cecile noted.

“Which reminds me, I am so sorry about your daughter’s gown!” Iris apologized for the hundredth time.

Cecile put  finger over Iris’ lips. “Enough. It’s alright, dear. My daughter was never going to wear that dress again anyway. I’m glad you had a good time in it. And don’t you dare try to give me money. I will throw it back in your face. You work too hard for it, you keep it.”

“You’re too kind.”

Cecile patted herself on the back, making Iris laugh. She then took a long look at Iris, as if x-raying her.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Iris asked.

“Your mood has been more than ‘pleasant’ recently. In fact, I think there’s only one thing that could have you so giddy.”

Iris raised an eyebrow. “What, pray tell, is that?”

“You’ve met someone!” Cecile said in a sing-song voice.

Iris bit her lip. Her cheeks were warm and her stomach did a slip. She felt shy, like a school girl asked about a crush.

“Oh, come on! Tell me about him!” Cecile pleaded.

Iris looked at the floor, Barry’s face swimming in her mind. The past few nights, she lay awake in bed, counting the freckles she remember on his face. The feeling just thinking of him gave Iris was overwhelming. She loved and hated it. He made her feel like she was flying and drowning in the ocean at the same time. Iris wasn’t sure if she wanted fawn over his memory in serenity or scream in desperation due to their distance.

“Please!” Cecile cried again. “You haven’t said anything about the ball. I’ve been dying to hear.

“It was a very nice ball.” Iris said.

“And?” Cecile urged her.

“And…… They have far too much food!”

“And?”

“And…… The orchestra was very talented.”

“And the Prince?”

“Oh, the Prince.” Iris whispered. She’d been avoiding the subject.

“Yes, the Prince!” Cecile insisted.

“Well, he’s tall.” Iris said, truthfully.

“Did you dance? Is he charming as they say?”

“I only danced two dances, both with the same man.” Iris reported, leaving out the detail that the man was the Prince.

“And him?” Cecile pried.

Iris’ heart swelled. “I’d never felt anything like being with him.”

Cecile sipped her drink and looked teasingly at Iris. “Mmmm.”

“I was so anxious when I’d first arrived. Breathless with a wild anticipation of adventure, excitement, and romance. I felt so out of place. I was seriously considering running home, when he asked me to dance.”

“Was he handsome?”

Iris giggled. “Really handsome.”

“I need details!”

“He was tall, very tall. His eyes a mixture of emerald green and soft blue. He was slim but in shape. His hair was dark and wavy. He looked good in his red suit.”

“Red? Bold choice.”

“The Palace was so extravagant, making me feel so humble in comparison. I didn’t recognize a face in the crowd of people. It was scary. But, when I was with him, he made me feel like... I was home.”

Cecile looked on Iris in awe, hanging onto her every word.

“That sounds silly, doesn’t it?” Iris asked.

Cecile put her hand on Iris’ shoulder. “That sounds like love.”

Iris felt embarrassed. She leaned over the bary to hug Cecile.

“Thank you for talking to me. I didn’t realize how much I wanted to tell someone about him until I started. Now, I don’t want to stop.”

“Of course.” Cecile said. “You can always talk to me.”

“I’m lucky to have someone like you in my life.” Iris said appreciatively.

“Iris, I know it may sound strange. Forgive me if I’m overstepping my bounds, but I feel a maternal connection to you. I don’t get to see my daughter as often as I like, so I take extra enjoyment out of spending time with you.”

Iris was touched. She had long looked up to Cecile as a maternal figure, since she lost her own mother at such a young age. “That means so much to me. I don’t remember much about her, but my father tells me how beautiful and kind she was. It reminds me of you.”

The women embraced again.

“I never knew your mother, but I think she would be proud of you. Any mother would.” Cecile said.

A tear escaped Iris’ eye. “Thank you.”

“And any mother would want you to be happy. To find true love and have your happily ever after.”