#but its also a kind and calming force that keeps people warm

[strawbubbysugar]

So(u)l Chapter 2

Chapter 2!! :3c time for Y/N to make their first appearance! Here's the AO3 link to read it there as well! https://archiveofourown.org/works/48206098/chapters/121565137#workskin -------

“What does this image make you think of?”

You fidgeted nervously with your fingers, taking in and examining the image being shown to you by the interviewer. It was the sun, bright and shiny on a cloudless day.

“Er ..” you paused. Did they want your honest answer, or your interview answer? .. you were probably going to give them your honest one.

“Warm. Hah, obviously.” You chuckled nervously. “But also a little overwhelming? I’m more of a night owl, if I’m being honest.” You smiled, hoping that would get you extra brownie points. The job had been labelled as being after hours, so hopefully being a night owl was a checkmark in your column for being hired.

You needed this job. You DESPERATELY needed this job. You were in your mid 20’s, and every other person you knew .. it felt like they already figured out their lives. They knew who they were, what they were doing, where they were headed.. While you felt like you were floating through life, especially once you’d graduated. You didn’t know why you’d gone for an engineering degree, you were never one for structured schooling and .. well, that was about as structured as it got. Besides being a doctor. But you kind of were a doctor! Just for computers.

You imagined a robot in a hospital gown with a thermometer in its exhaust vent and a giggly smile tried to force its way onto your face. You held it down- no. This was a serious job interview.

This was going to be your big break. You were applying to be an engineer for fazbear entertainment, specifically for the massive, all powerful Freddy fazbear’s mega pizzaplex. Getting to put your degree to use by repairing and upkeeping the impressive animatronics housed inside a giant amusement park would be like a dream come true. Not only would you feel like you hadn’t wasted your money and time on your degree, you’d get to see the insanely cool robots, see how they worked up close- maybe even get to peek at the code that allowed for them to be so advanced!

You’d never had a chance to visit the pizzaplex before- it was .. significantly out of your budget, and you couldn’t justify spending an entire paycheck on a single day somewhere. Even if it was a super cool arcade slash indoor amusement park slash laser tag slash.. jeez, you could keep going! You knew, in the back of your mind, how terrible the company was. Of course you did. You weren’t stupid. The rumours that piled up around the company were uncountable, and they grew by the day, to the point where it was hard to tell if people were just making them up to jump on the bandwagon.

They did make you a little nervous. As did the idea of working for such a large monopoly- one that you’d found out during the interviewing process wouldn’t have you interacting with many other coworkers. Out of a lack of need, given their robots, or out of a high turnover rate.. you couldn’t tell.

Long nights, all alone, surrounded only by animatronic robots and the liminal space of a completely empty entertainment centre. No interruptions for small talk. Maybe even getting to enjoy some attractions after hours.. was that scary?

.. nah. That still sounded like a dream.

You were snapped out of your thoughts by the interviewer clearing her throat. “Did you hear me?” She asked.

You blinked, glancing to the image she had on her screen, currently turned to face you. It was the moon, on a clear night, small silvery stars shining around it. You smiled again, your best ‘please god hire me’ smile, and nodded. You hadn’t heard her, but you could take a wild guess as to what she’d asked.

“Calm.” You responded. “Relaxing. Is that the same as calm? Peaceful. Er- kind of just- being a thesaurus here.” You rambled, continuing to smile. You didn’t know what made you always feel like you had to fill silences, but it was hard to escape the urge. “Oh- uh- did you need anything .. more?”

This was weird. This was *really* weird, right? These were the type of questions you’d get asked in a therapists office, not at a job interview. It was fairly invasive, and was this lady even qualified to determine what they meant? Even you didn’t delve that deep into your own psyche. Surely they were allowed to, if they were asking. The Fazbear corporation didn’t seem like the type to leave themselves open to being sued. So it had to be .. at least *somewhat* legal.

You didn’t wait for her to repeat the same question question as she began pulling up the next image. “If I can talk about the sun one again-“ you started nervously, worried now that you’d made the wrong impression. “I think it makes me think of .. friends? Like- the feeling of being with someone. Comfortable- like-“

She cut you off before you got too poetic, showing an image of an alligator next. “What does this make you think of?” She asked, before beginning to type out her notes on your first two responses.

You raised an eyebrow. An alligator? … you had a strong feeling she was asking about your gut instinct, but you couldn’t help but feel like she was trying to see what you’d instinctively feel about the glamrocks. After all, you’d be spending a lot of time with them. You’d get to know them, hopefully, and see how they were able to be so lifelike.

You chewed your lip in thought, deciding to say the first thing that came to mind. “Respect. I mean, they haven’t evolved past what they are right now in.. hundreds of thousands of years- you gotta respect that. They’ve found their niche and they really stuck to it. Almost like crabs. Oh- did you know-“ you cut yourself off with a big smile, biting your tongue. “.. respect. Yes.”

An interview was no time for fun facts, as much as it pained you to not begin your tangent on carcinization.

She nodded, ignoring the sentence you’d left hanging. She pulled up an image of a chicken next. You almost laughed. It felt so silly to be being quizzed on this, about how you felt about the real world counterparts to the very much not realistic robots.

You wondered for a moment why they’d shown you the sun and moon first. Maybe they were testing if you really would be able to handle a night shift.

“Cute.” You began thoughtfully. “And super underrated as pets. They’re really good for your lawn, too. They eat .. bugs.” You smiled sheepishly after almost telling her another fun fact. So much smiling- not that you weren’t already an incredibly smiley person, but your cheeks were starting to hurt.

She typed out her notes, taking a worryingly long time before showing the next image. A wolf. A stock image you were sure you’d seen on the shirt of a very cool grandma you’d seen at a bus stop once.

“Cool. I mean- obviously. That’s .. that’s kinda the standard opinion on wolves, huh? Man’s old best friend. Cool. And respectable. Like- I respect them. As a creature.”

She raised an eyebrow slightly, but otherwise didn’t reveal her opinion on your opinions. More typing, before showing the grizzly bear.

“Pizza.” You said firmly. The interviewer blinked slowly. “.. it .. I mean, I think bear, I think Freddy, I think pizza.” Your smile wobbled, as you could feel your joke falling flat.

“… strong.” You eventually relented to her calm silence. “… there’s a lot of stuff you can relate to bears, uh. Is that good?”

She nodded, apparently much more approving of this answer as she typed it out.

“This is the last image before the final questions we have for you, please let us know what you think about this image.”

You craned your head to see, as she hadn’t turned it quite far enough to be able to see it without the glare from the window masking it. It was a gigantic spider, one of those ones you hear about being in Australia. The reason why kids programming there can’t say spiders are friendly and shouldn’t be squished.

“… uh.” You glanced up at her then back to the screen. “Cool also.” It wasn’t a lie. A spider that big was cool, even if it was equally terrifying and making you itchy just to look at it.

She nodded, turning the monitor back to herself and typing out her last notes for that section. “Thank you.”

You nodded again back to her, beginning to feel like a bit of a bobble head, tapping your fingers on your knees as you leaned back. Whew. That was certainly more interesting than the half hour you’d had to talk about your qualifications.

She continued typing before glancing back to you, speaking as she finished up. “Have you met your soulmate?”

You blinked a few times at the question. Of course. Of course she would ask that. That was all anybody cared about. Even in a job interview. After the psychotherapy questions, you really should’ve been more prepared for this.

“… are you legally allowed to ask that?” You tried to joke, throat suddenly feeling very dry.

“Yes. It’s a standard question, we ask since people your age usually begin experiencing the signals and that can interfere with work. We like to know so we know if we need to expect several days or weeks off in order to find your partner at some point and get acquainted before returning to work.”

You picked at a loose thread on your jeans, smile slowly turning more forced. “Oh, you don’t have to worry about that. I don’t have one. I haven’t had any signals.”

She raised an eyebrow again. “.. none? Even children get-“

“Yep!” You interrupted, embarrassed talking about this to a complete stranger. “I’m colourblind, so.”

She’d been entirely stoic this entire interview, but that suddenly changed as she flushed, feeling embarrassed herself upon realizing how deeply she’d intruded. “Oh- I’m sorry. It’s so rare we- we don’t usually-“

“It’s okay!” You interrupted again, this time to save her from her embarrassment. “It is pretty rare! I’m alright, I’ve had a long time to come to terms with it. It just means you guys will get one hundred percent of my attention.” You nodded, smiling wide. “Even if I did have a soulmate, they’d have to come to me. But I don’t! I’m pretty sure I don’t. I’ve never felt any tugs, or anything. I know other colourblind people can feel the more uh.. tangible signals. But .. I’ve never felt em! So. No harm no foul!”

She gave you a pleasant, professional smile, eager to finish this awkward conversation. “Alright. Last question- how soon can you start?”

You blinked, before beaming. “I-immediately!” You answered as soon as your mind caught up to the implication. “As soon as you need me! .. does this mean I’m hired?”

You just had to confirm. To make sure. You had a terrible habit of assuming things, and this was something you really had to make sure of.

“Your resume was .. impressive, in terms of your schooling. You’ve done a lot of retail gigs, so I know you can work well with schedules. You answered all the questions satisfactorily, and your responses to the instinct questions were.. well. Interesting.” She paused. “In a good way. So, yes. I’ll need to run it by the head engineer, and a few other higher ups, but between you and me I say.. welcome to the Fazbear family.”

You jumped out of your chair, pumping your fists in pure delight and excitement. “Yes!! Yesyesyesyes!!” You cheered.

It took a few moments for your excitement to die down before you took your seat again, clearing your throat. “I look forward to working with you.” You held out your hand, very professionally.

She took it, shaking it firmly. “I’ll send you an email by the end of tonight to let you know if we’ll move forward. Come to the pizzaplex tomorrow at 10 pm, and I’ll make sure someone gives you a tour.”

You were beside yourself with delight, nodding over and over, almost enough to make you dizzy. You could finally start building your life, figuring yourself out- and it all started tomorrow at 10, if your luck held out. You hoped it would.

[peach-and-bugs]

🖤She’s All That I’ve Got - Captain Phasma x fem!Reader🖤

Royalty Enemies to Lovers Au

Fanfiction master list

Summary: y/n's kingdom has fallen under the iron fist of the Empire despite her best efforts. But, much to her surprise, she's been allowed to live. She knows that Ren must want something from her or her kingdom, but that's for the future. as of right now, she has been granted permission to move about the grounds as she might have normally before. However, she will always be under the watchful eye of Ren's trusted Captain Phasma, head of his stormtrooper army…

Warnings: mentions of death, near violence

Word Count: 2,448

A/N: here's my first real medieval Au! Reader is referred to as high priestess instead of princess just because I like it better, but both titles are synonyms so they can be used interchangeably. And for a little lore dump, I wanted to keep the same kind of weapons and designs since this is StarWars, but troopers instead have normal swords and medieval-akin weapons while Jedi (or ren in this case) still has a lightsaber. but rather than being made of tech it's kind of like an enchanted sword thanks to the kyber crystal embedded in the handle. The force also exists, but its viewed more so as sorcery

She’s All That I’ve Got Tag List: @idontlikepexple

Captain Phasma Tag List:

General Tag List: @summergeezburr

-🖤-

Never before would you have anticipated finding so much comfort in your father’s untimely death. Yet, you are, curled up in the corner of a locked cell, deep in your castle's dungeon. Your day dress had grown muddled with mildew and general stone grime. This of course was due to the dungeon's lack of maintenance, because why would you clean it regularly when no one would be held down there? Your small country had come upon a benevolent time of peace after all. Or at least it had been a time of calm before the Empire decided it needed to step in.

Your eyes had begun to burn now having run dry from tears. You knew they would be red by now. Puffy and sore from rubbing them raw in an attempt to keep what little composure you could still. They’d locked you down here hours ago. How many hours was up for anyone to say, but it had been some time. The invasion had ceased outside the walls of your castle, but you could still hear your people's faint cries and shouts in your mind's eye. 

Even if you'd done everything you possibly could, there had to have been something that had slipped your mind. This had to have been avoidable, right? You tisked yourself for the consideration. Your father wouldn’t have dwelled on this had it been him locked in this muddy cell. He would have held his chin up and found some sort of resolution. Well, you weren't your father. And by the look of things, you wouldn’t be leaving this cell for some time. Maybe yous die here. That sounded about right. You'd die here on the cold and wet stone floor only to be reunited with your father once again in the afterlife. Or maybe the empire would spare you the time and host one of those lovely public executions in front of the dwindling number of your people that would venture into the square. You weren't sure which you'd prefer at this point.

It appeared you'd get your answer in a matter of minutes as you heard the low, growling scrape of the dungeon door as it ground against the stone floor, letting in the faintest light as two guards clamored down the stairs with a torch in hand. You scrambled to your feet. Pressing your back to the wall as they clanged toward your cell. You felt your breath quicken as the sound grew. Your feet squirmed under you, trying to warm your footing against the icy stone, though there was no real escape from the same stone chilling deep into your spine. The stormtroopers stopped abruptly, their black hole-like eyes boring into you as one fiddled with the keys to your cell. The door swung open with a clang that almost made you flinch but you held your ground.

“Master Ren is ready to speak with you,” one said. His voice was muffled and distorted by his faceless mask. Your muscles tensed as you flexed your fingers, squeezing your hands into tight fists. The troopers seemed to notice and subconsciously moved their hands to the hilts of their swords, firmly held at their hips. You forced yourself to relax, but still keep up your guard and nodded, telling them to lead the way. You approached the opened door, only to be stopped by a heald palm. You heard a tough clang of metal and looked down to find thick shackles held open to you. The trooper grunted at your hesitation, forcing you to reluctantly offer up your wrists. The metal was much colder on your skin than the cobblestone and it met your blood quickly thanks to your exposed pulse point. 

The trooper locked your wrists in tight and tugged at the metal chain’ checking its integrity before he turned to leave. This trooper began to lead the way with you hesitantly training out of your cell from behind. The second trooper took his place at the back of your little train, following you close with his hand gripping his hilt if you made any effort to run.

Emerging from the underground, you were met with the disheartening sight of imperial flags hanging high from the walls where your home colors used to reside. They were lazily put off but were scorn a stomach-churning shade of blood red. And upon exiting your dungeon, you were flanked by two additional escorts who had likely been waiting in case you dashed while still downstairs. Walking down the long, winding halls you were greeted with even more troopers lining the walls, watching you with prying eyes as you passed. 

Nevertheless, you held your head high. You refused to crumble, especially not in front of an audience. And oh, an audience you would have. Upon entering the throne room, formally your throne room, you were met with overwhelming sunlight and gaudy red redecoration. Stormtroopers lined the room, arms at the ready if you dared to run. And right above you, perched proudly on your father’s throne sat the revered and feared Master Ren. he watched you with keen eyes, his hand covering his chin and mouth. His brow was furrowed in consideration and you could have sworn he hadn't blinked since you entered his presence. 

As you approached with your entourage of guards, the two at your sides peeled off but were replaced by the originals who walked in front and behind. Your eyes began to wander, scanning your crowded surroundings. You took note of the weasely redhead standing at Ren’s left hand. He held his head high with a scrunched nose and evident grimace. He looked at you as though you were scum that has scuffed his boot. You offered a minuscule glare in return till you were stopped by the troopers at your side, who grabbed onto either of your forearms. You were held still, exposed in front of Ren with your shackled hands and waterlogged skirts. But you kept your head up. You wouldn’t shy away, not even now when one might think you looked like a beggar. 

Your eyes turned back to the General as he cleared his throat, he arched a brow and glanced at the ever-casual Ren, who nodded a finger without a word. Hux sniffed rather aggressively through his nose, then gave the guards at your sides a quick nod, and without any other form of warning, you were tossed to your knees in front of the throne, clumsily catching yourself with your shackled hands, which echoed a ghostly metal clang through the throne room. You managed to look up with a turnt grimace and a huff of exhaled air rustled loose hair that obstructed your face. This reaction seemed to mildly interest the lead invader but not by much. He sat up in your father’s chair, adjusting himself to get a better view of you. 

“Prop her back up,” his voice reverberated off of the walls of your throne room, but still came across as quiet, strangely enough. The guard said as they were told, grabbing onto your shoulders and roughly pulling you up onto your knees. Ren watched with growing interest, though he still looked like he could yawn quite easily at any given moment. “You know why we’ve come, don’t you?” he gripped the arm of your father's chair as his eyes scanned down your kneeled form. 

“I assume this is all an act of love or unity,” you bit back bitterly. “However you’re presenting yourselves these days,” you took in a long, loud breath through your nose, eyeing the Master and the General with a burning hatred in the crinkle of your nose and furrow of your brow. You saw a flex in the General’s frown, but Ren smiled. It was small, but a smile was there. He even let go of a low chuckle. 

“I admire your moxie, high priestess,” he began. Your title rolled off his tongue in a sickeningly sweet tone that made your skin crawl. “But I must cut to my point, I’m afraid,” he sighed, growing board of you once more. 

“I’ve decided to let you live,” he continued. Your eyes widened for a millisecond, but you insisted on keeping your surprise hidden tight under wraps. You couldn’t let him think you were grateful to him without risking inflating his already mountain-like ego. “However, of course, there must be conditions,” you bit the inside of your cheek at that, holding your tongue. Now it was time for Hux to speak up, for he cleared his throat quite loudly to grab your attention from his superior. You’d already grown further irritated by the man’s weaselly face and screwed frown. 

“You will be confined to the palace grounds at all times unless chaperoned by Master Ren himself. You are to stay out of all diplomacy, again, unless asked of by Master Ren,” you grew flabbergasted by what you were hearing and scoffed rather loudly, stopping Hux as he licked his lips to list off the last of your conditions. 

“You want me as a figurehead!” you barked. You swore you could hear gasping muffled under stormtrooper helmets as her room hushed. The General gritted his teeth and gripped the hilt of his weapon tight in his hand as he strode down the staircase before you. 

“You wretched girl-” he started. You pressed your lips in a fine line, ready for some type of impact as you squeezed your eyes shut, but the impact never struck. You heard pained grunting and upon opening your eyes again, the General stood tall before you, sword only partly drawn from its hilt. 

But the man couldn’t move. He has been frozen where he stood. Your breath had quickened but you dared to look behind him, only to find Master Ren having stood from the throne, hand outstretched as he watched Hux with shakingly focused eyes. You swallowed thickly, eyes returning to Hux who looked like he might turn purple if he wasn’t allowed air soon. 

You’d never seen sorcery like this in your life but your father had told you animated stories back when you were just a girl. He regaled the days when magic like this had been loved and revered, seen as a thing of light and peace. You'd learned and read all about the original sorcerer's order and how they made it their mission to preserve life and balance. Yet over the years it had become tainted, resulting in tyrants like Ren and his new order. Hux was released and nearly collapsed to the ground at your knees, but he managed to hold himself. He averted his eyes as he caught his breath, coughing as he took in previously denied air. You thought that you could almost smell the embarrassment on him.

“Now, that’s no way to address our guest,” Ren said with a snide hint in his voice. It was clear that he enjoyed the opportunity to one-up and show off to his general. That made sense, if you thought about it. A tyrant’s primary goal is to impress those they find small and weak. And guest? You held your tone, but how dare he call you a guest when he was sitting proudly in your chair and your house? You let out a huffed breath as Hux turned tail and took his post once more. 

“But yes, a figurehead, if you will,” Ren lowered himself back to his seat, crossing his leg over his knee as he lounged. He waved his hand back to Hux, urging the general to continue as he continued to watch you curiously. The general readjusted his uniform, offered his superior a silent glare, and cleared his throat once more. 

“When you are not accompanying Ren, you will be escorted everywhere by the head of our guard, Captain Phasma,” Hux snapped his gloved hand and the aforementioned Captain seemed to emerge from the shadows of Ren and his newly claimed throne. The first thing you took note of was that the captain was tall. Even from the distance you were at, you knew they were tall. Taller than both Hux and Ren. but besides that, there was nothing else about them you could gather. They hid their face behind a similar helmet to the members of their guard, only their armor was forged from shining platinum, aiding in their standout-ish demeanor. 

“Phasma will watch your every move and report back any suspicious activity that she might find, so no point trying anything,” Hux hissed, trying so hard to buy back any respect you might have had for him before. You were more held up watching the statuelike captain, but you did ponder part of what the general has said. She. The captain that stood taller than both her superiors was a she. Now, this fact didn’t change anything, but it did peak the bit of curiosity you still harbored. 

“Any questions?” the weasel interjected back into your thoughts. You turned to him with your hardest stare, then trained your eyes back on Ren. 

“No,” 

“Then that will be all,” Hux answered for Ren and turned on his heels in a hurry to leave the throne room. “Captain, you may take your leave and escort the high priestess to her quarters” the guards still standing at your side grabbed your underarms without warning and hoisted you to your feet. The Captain began her descent down the stairs, her footsteps echoing louder as she approached. A small part of you wanted to squirm at the grips on your arms, but you held your ground, standing as tall as you could and taking deep breaths. The captain stopped just a stride in front of you, tilting her helmeted head to the side ever so slightly as though she was observing you. And who was to say she wasn’t? It was impossible to tell with the helmet after all.

“Shall we leave, high priestess?” Her voice was lower than you might have expected, yet you found the question more surprising. You must have expected a demand from her before being asked a question. You nodded, possibly having grown trimmed due to her stature in front of you, or maybe from the illusion of you having a choice at all. She nodded to the guards at your side, who released your arms and turned around. Before you turned with them, you caught sight of Ren, moving to leave the say way the General had. He watched you leave with hard eyes and his lips squeezed together momentarily, almost as though he had more to say. But time had run short and you were forced to leave with your new entourage.

[box-architecture]

more of this specific au

Quackity destroying Dream's scalp and hair in prison. Sam holding a piece of hair to inspect the damage.

Sam is actually really upset about this, even though Dream doesn't get why

Ah yes, torture is okay, but but destroying her hair? Something Sam used to spend hours brushing when they were young, and made her stare when Dream was on the battlefield?

Sam ends up banning Quackity for a week and tries to repair the damage herself. (Sam is. Extremely Stressed. Dream's hair is Important. It's a sign that things are Normal. Dream can't really be having too hard a time, she's still taking care of her hair!)

Dream will 100 percent insist she doesn't care and that it doesnt matter, shes being tortured for fucks sake. (Being feminine was important to her. Being able to go toe to toe with anyone and win while also getting to be a woman. Because there's always that pressure to sort of. renounce femininity when you get higher up. People sneer at you for caring about your appearance)

She bites her tongue while Sam inspects her scalp, and there's a deep, resentful pit in her stomach. Just A Pretty Thing. Regardless of what she was enduring. It felt like the torture wasn't real for Sam until she saw this. And there's some part of Dream that wants Sam to see how ugly it really was. Sam finally getting a glimpse of the reality, torture isn't pretty, this isn't a game that Sam can win.

When Quackity is let back in it shatters something inside her a bit. She keeps finding little bits of faith in Sam and it keeps proving futile. Since this is an alternate communication knife au she probably starts up the favors around now, but she is Not Doing Great.

Also makes the favors have a different undercurrent of tension to them. Sam is wrestling with guilt about the hair (and trying hard to ignore the fact that Dream is now covered in scars) and Dream is trying hard to Perform Pretty, anxious that Sam will stop the favors because she doesn't look like how she likes.

Everything Is Fine.

Punz ends up holding Dream and rocking her a lot post prison. Dream is briefly stuck in a cycle of hating what she looks like and hating herself for caring about what she looks like.

When the escape happens, Punz sees Dream's hair destroyed and Dream is forced to stop and get a warm jacket and scarf and is forced into Comfy Time (Dream is not pleased).

Techno breaks Dream out, lets Dream fuck off wherever, Dream goes back to Punz, and Punz sees the state of Dream's hair and instantly knows somethings wrong. She doesn't manage to get much out of Dream while she's trying to go get the Axe of Peace back, but she does demand Dream come see her after.

When they meet and Punz questions her about her hair, Dream has a mild meltdown, raging about how her hair didn't matter and it was fine and is that all that matters to Punz? And Punz, who is just trying their best, ends up hugging her and they sit on the floor while Dream cries.

This Is Very Fine.

Dream gets cleaned up and bandaged and taken care of, and Punz has decided that Sam and Quackity will die. First one doesn't end up happening, but like, one out of two is still pretty good.

When they do end up becoming a trio with Sam, the eventual talk about the hair is. Interesting. And by that I mean Sam decides she isn't up for sex once, and Dream kind of lurches and and goes off to the bathroom to have a very quiet anxiety attack (Sam doesn't want to have sex with her Sam doesn't want her because she isn't pretty anymore her hair is gone she's different now-)

And Sam panics because Dream very abruptly left looking upset, and when Dream doesn't answer she calls she breaks in and flounders a bit before loafing on top of Dream and purring to try to calm her down.

-

"I'm not going to be pretty again"

"What?" Sam looked down at her, confused.

"My hairs gone. Its not coming back," Dream informed her. Sam was not allowed to wrap her arms around her, but she pressed herself a little closer. "You ruined it."

"I didn't," Sam protested instantly, "Quackity did-"

"You did it," Dream stressed, "You let her in. And now its gone. You're not getting it back. So why don't you just leave."

Dream curled up tighter into a ball in the tub. Where was Punz? Punz was always good at making Sam leave.

Sam hesitated. Her ears drooped. "I don't want to leave you."

"You heard what I said."

"Yes, but… I don't… you're very pretty." Sam mumbled, face heating up. "I can call you pretty more often, if you want."

Dream felt a little numb.

"What," she croaked, or she thought she did. She didn't seem to fully exist in her body at the moment. "was the point of all this? You let Quackity torture me for months without a word, but the minute I lose my hair, you act like its a death sentence. You cared more about how I looked than you did about me. And now you're acting like it never happened."

Dream looked up at the light on the ceiling. It hurt to stare at, but she didn't care. "Get off your idiot train and go bother someone else. I'm sure being a loser got you a bunch of loser friends to hang out with."

For a long time, it was silent. Dream continued to stare at the light, never glancing in Sam's direction. There was no shuffle of creeper paws, no shutting of the door, no indignant huff. Just silence.

Finally, in a very small voice, Sam said, "I'm sorry."

Dream didn't respond.

"I liked your hair. It was, you." Sam shifted, trying to find the words. She struggled for a moment, before wilting. "When it was gone, it felt. Wrong. You're supposed to be you."

Dream closed her eyes. The light hurt too much.

"I should have done a lot of things different. Like, like letting Quackity in. Or panicking over your hair. Or… all of it."

Sam swallowed. "Even if I don't have the right to say it, I still think you're pretty. Even without your hair, you look really nice. Like, sunlight. Or a butterfly."

Dream snorted wetly. "Butterflies are symmetrical. I'm not like that."

"But when they're in a garden," Sam insisted, "and you're looking at all the flowers, and they look nice, but you stare at the butterfly when it flies by, and you don't care about any of the flowers. You're looking at how pretty the butterfly is. You're like that."

Dream laughed softly, tasting salt in her mouth. "I don't know what that means."

Sam perked up. Her tail wagged. "Your laugh is pretty, too. Everything about you is pretty. It makes everyone want to look at you all the time. I-"

Sam cut herself off, cheeks pink. Dream turned her head in curiosity. "What?"

She stuttered, paws shuffling. "I like looking at you. When you're here. I like you."

Tension seeped slowly out of Dream's figure, draining her of any energy she had left over. Good. This was good. Sam wasn't leaving her over her hair, and Sam apologized. This was good. Everything was-

"Dream?" Sam asked in concern. Dream felt a wayward tear slide down the bridge of her nose.

"I'm tired." Her eyelids drooped at the realization. "If you bring me to the bed, you can sleep with me."

She felt Sam pick her up with surprising gentleness, cradling her to her chest. A warm breath fell against her torn ear.

"If you want that." Sam murmured.

Dream barely registered them leaving the bathroom. As soon as her body hit the sheets, she melted into its softness. The past hour had been so much, but she would sleep it off and things would make more sense.

Fluffy paw pads brushed at her cheeks. "You're crying, Dream."

"Mm."

A warm body pressed into hers and began to purr.

-

Punz shows up with Dreams meds or something like 30 minutes later, and nearly murders Sam. She's stopped by Dream, who asks for sleepy cuddles, and then they're forced to hold off on murdering Sam until they can find another reason to stab her.

[eunxhan]

❝ You touched me like I was a masterpiece but you weren't into art. ❞

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Ꮺ DISCLAIMER ⨾ I do not condone any type of yandere behavior in real life so please do not replicate. Anim2l @bvs3 at the end.

Links ⨾ My Navigation.

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MARSHALL CASIMERO

AUTHOR | @/stories

VH ♬ Fox [The little prince]

WRITER!YAN | mid 20s | Agender (AMAB)

He/She/They | Demiromantic (Panromantic)

JANUARY 21 | AQUARIUS | ESFJ

Detached | Inquisitive | Delusion

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Ꮺ ETHNICITY / SPECIES —

Filipino, Human

Ꮺ OCCUPATION / JOB —

Author

Ꮺ WORLD / VERSE —

N/A.. Yet

Ꮺ DESCRIPTION —

Here

Ꮺ HEIGHT —

5'11

Ꮺ WEIGHT —

150-180 lbs

Ꮺ APPEARANCE —

Marshall is a truly captivating individual, with a quiet and reserved demeanor that belies a deep well of inner strength and determination. His tall and imposing frame makes her a commanding presence, but their soft features and warm smile add a touch of tenderness to his otherwise striking appearance. With her square build and broad shoulders, Marshall is a physical specimen who exudes confidence and strength. His tan skin adds an exotic and mysterious quality to their overall look, and the way it glows in the sun only adds to her charisma. But there is something more to Marshall's appearance than what meets the eye— like the calm before the storm, there is an overwhelming energy that radiates from within, giving them a powerful presence that cannot be ignored..

Despite her imposing physique, Marshall's demeanor is calm and patient, with a sense of wisdom and understanding that sets him apart. She has a way of drawing people in and making them feel at ease, even in the most trying situations. And when the going gets tough, they are force to be reckoned with — his sheer determination and unwavering commitment to his goals are an inspiration and a testament to her inner strength.

Ꮺ FACIAL FEATURES —

Marshall was blessed with a striking and memorable appearance, with his most distinctive features being the two moles that grace her face. One is located beneath his bottom lip and the other is just under their left eye, adding a subtle yet enticing touch to his otherwise strong and handsome features. Marshall's face is framed by long, luxurious eyelashes that frame her piercing black eyes, which are said to be like two windows into the depths of their soul. His eyes have a unique energy that seems to stare right through a person and see straight into their heart, making her seem both alluring and intimidating at the same time.

Marshall's facial features are rounded and soft, lending him an air of kindness and humility that belies her otherwise imposing and commanding presence. Their skin is tan and sun-kissed, with a gentle glow that only adds to her overall allure. In addition to his striking physical features, Marshall's manner and conduct are also a part of his appearance. She moves with a graceful and assured step, and his voice is smooth and low, adding to their mystique and intrigue.

Ꮺ HAIR STYLE ���

The wolf cut frames his face beautifully, bringing out the best in her strong and androgynous features. Their brunette hair is full, thick and healthy, and the blonde highlights behind her ears add a touch of sophistication and style to their overall look. Marshall takes great care of his hair, using only the best products to keep it looking its best at all times. She has a meticulous and deliberate approach to his grooming, and their hair is always styled to perfection, never looking disheveled or unruly. It's clear that Marshall values their appearance and takes pride in keeping himself looking her best at all times.

Ꮺ CLOTHES —

Marshall's style could be described as a combination of classic and modern elements, with a touch of rebelliousness and edge. He has a sense of style that is both timeless and contemporary, and they know how to dress to impress without looking like she's trying too hard.

She tends to favor fitted and tailored clothing, with a lean towards dark colors and monochromatic looks. Their wardrobe often includes slick suits, well-fitted t-shirts, and sleek sweaters in neutral tones like black, gray and navy blue. He favors quality and comfort over flashy or gaudy pieces, and she's not afraid to mix and match pieces from different styles to create a unique and personalized look.

Ꮺ SCARS —

His hands, are covered in a network of fine bruises and scratches, a result of his love for writing with a fountain pen and using it as a weapon in times of conflict. These bruises give her hands a rugged and lived-in look, adding a touch of authenticity and edge to their otherwise refined and elegant appearance. Marshall also has a few subtle bruising on his face and neck, a result of her insatiable desire to explore the darker and more dangerous side of life. These bruises, caused by biting and other more intense activities, lend an air of mystery and intrigue to Marshall's already captivating appearance.

Ꮺ OTHER PHYSICAL APPEARANCE —

He have birthmarks on her waist and is a notable feature that adds dimension. The birthmark is present on both sides of his waist, giving her hips a distinctive and eye-catching appearance.. The birthmark itself is a patch of skin that is slightly lighter than the rest of Marshall's skin, and it stands out clearly against the texture and color of their skin.

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Ꮺ SKILLS —

He is a keen observer of human nature, with a deep understanding of the psyche and the motivations that drive people. He is also an excellent listener and communicator, able to connect with people on a deep level and gain their trust and respect.. Marshall is an experienced fighter. He is adept at hand-to-hand combat , and he is skilled in the use of a wide variety of weapons, including knives, swords and firearms. He has a strategic mind and a sharp wit, and he is able to think quickly on his feet in even the most tense and dangerous situations.

Ꮺ STRENGTH / TALENT —

(similar to skills) Marshall knows how to navigate through places, find and avoid cameras. It takes a keen eye, a quick wit and an uncanny ability to anticipate and outsmart his targets to be able to move so seamlessly through even the most closely monitored environments. And to do it all with the sole purpose of gaining inspiration for his writing is an incredible testament to Marshall's creative mind and his unwavering dedication to his craft.

Ꮺ WEAKNESS —

Marshall struggles managing his emotions, particularly when it comes to jealousy or anger. He becomes easily triggered by perceived slights or threats, and he finds it difficult to control his impulses in those moments.

Ꮺ HOBBIES —

Word Scrabble, Chess games that requires strategy, patience, and strong language skills, and it provides Marshall with a mental challenge that allows him to keep his mind sharp and stimulated. Planting, on the other hand, allows him to express his creative side, as well as showcasing his green thumb and his love of nature. Going through the news just to see his "other works", she's truly proud of their work.

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Ꮺ AREA OF RESIDENCE / ENVIRONMENT —

Marshall is currently residing in the city of Tokyo in Japan. known for its bustling cityscape, its vibrant culture and its delicious food, and it appeals to Marshall for its mix of tradition and modernity.

Ꮺ MENTAL HEALTH —

While she have had a decent childhood, it's worth noting that individuals do not necessarily need to have experienced specific types of trauma or adverse experiences in order to develop certain mental health issues. In Marshall's case, they lack of emotion could be related to certain underlying neurobiological factors or to the way that he was socialized growing up.. As for her absent-mindedness, this is a personality trait that they has always had, or it could be related to his lack of emotion. The two may be related, as individuals who lack emotional capacity may not be as focused on their surroundings as those who are more emotionally attuned.

Ꮺ PHYSICAL HEALTH —

He is someone who is highly committed to the upkeep of her body and they are likely to be someone who pays close attention to their physical health and well-being. ( I'm lazy Alr )

Ꮺ PERSONALITY —

He is able to navigate and manipulate hrr way through even the most challenging of situations. They possesses a level of detachment and emotional distance, and is able to focus entirely on the mission at hand, without being clouded by emotions or personal attachments. Marshall is also driven by passion and obsession, particularly when it comes to his relationship with her darling. He is willing to go to extreme lengths to protect and possess their darling, and can become easily consumed by her desires.. In his public life, Marshall maintains a certain level of detachment and composure, as she. is aware of the need to maintain their reputation and protect his identity.

Ꮺ MORALS —

His role requires her to carry out actions that may be morally problematic or ethically ambiguous, and it's likely that they has had to reconcile his personal sense of morality with his job responsibilities. Marshall's moral code may be influenced by his lack of empathy, as she may be less likely to consider the feelings or perspectives of others in making their decisions.

Ꮺ SELF-CONTROL —

His emotions can become intense and overwhelming, and that she can struggle to regulate their behaviors around his darling. Her sense of self-control may be challenged by their strong feelings of attachment and possession, and he may struggle to control her impulses and reactions.

Marshall becomes irrational, impulsive, or even violent as he seeks to protect and possess her beloved.

Ꮺ MOTIVATION —

Marshall's motivation is rooted in a deep emotional attachment and a sense of possessiveness. He is likely to have a strong desire to protect and possess her darling, and become intensely focused on their relationship and their relationship's future.

Ꮺ DISCOURAGEMENT —

He becomes discouraged if she struggles to write, if they encounters writer's block, or if he feels that her work is not being well-received. Similarly, in his personal life, she may become discouraged if they feel that he is not able to protect or possess her darling, or if they experiences relationship turmoil or conflict.

Ꮺ INTELLIGENCE LEVEL —

Marshall's level of intelligence is very high, He have a natural talent for strategy and analysis, and she excel at solving problems and identifying patterns in complex and dynamic situations. They also have a keen sense of situational awareness, which would serve him well in a career.

Her physical and tactical skills, he also be highly intelligent when it comes to language and communication. They have a natural aptitude for language learning and may speak multiple languages fluently.

Ꮺ CONFIDENCE LEVEL —

He have a natural sense of self-assurance and a strong sense of resilience, which allows her to carry out their duties effectively and efficiently even under extremely stressful and dangerous conditions. He may also have a high level of confidence in her skills and abilities, having honed them through years of training and experience.

Ꮺ GREATEST FEAR —

Marshall's greatest fear about his darling could be having their blood on someone's hands that is not her own. Marshall's main motivation is to protect and possess their darling, and that he may have an intense fear of losing them or seeing them harmed in any way.. This fear was amplified by Marshall's profession, which regularly expose him to situations where she is tasked with carrying out violent acts. Marshall is particularly protective of their darling, and if they are someone who she values above all else, it's possible that the thought of seeing them harmed or hurt could cause him immense anxiety and distress.

Ꮺ CHILDHOOD LIFE + IMPORTANT PAST EVENT —

His childhood experience of accidentally causing the death of birds and animals in her sight is likely to have had a significant impact on their emotional development and psychological profile. He have developed a morbid fascination with crime and violence, and she developed a deep curiosity about the nature of death and suffering. They have been drawn to crime videos and may have found them thrilling, as they may have allowed him to explore her own morbid curiosity while still maintaining a degree of emotional detachment from the violence and suffering that he was observing.

Ꮺ CONFLICT —

He have conflicts with her darling that arise from their own emotional and psychological issues. He struggle with feelings of possessiveness, jealousy, and anger, and she struggles to communicate their feelings and needs in a healthy and constructive way.

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Ꮺ ⨾ I DO NOT CONSENT TO MY WORK BEING COPIED OR TRANSLATED.

[imjustabeanie]

yo its seras ... i decided to send one in for fun. id like a relationship matchup for someone from jjba + genshin if you could please.

any prns, cancer, intj, aro bi (im in romantic relationships so idm it. i just dont prioritize romantic gestures as they make me uncomfortable), true neutral, i have bpd + autism + bipolar + chronic pain so woo

im like 5'2, shorter hair like dirty blonde almost brown, pale also bc i dont leave the house except to go to work lol, freckles, blue eyes but they look more gray. i dont emote much at all really. i have a hard time talking about feelings / emotions / much of anything. i only talk passionately when it comes to my interests and things i really like. im very stubborn and overwork myself often. it takes me a long time to warm up to people and be trusting. i dont like touch unless ive been around you a Long time. i like people who make me feel looked out for and who won't be afraid to essentially force me to calm down / take breaks. not super pushy but like. kind pushy if that makes sense? i dont want to be smothered and need my space and would rather like parallel play. i like watching / playing games together and just enjoying time together. i also deal a lot with extreme emotions and hiding them, hence the bpd... my mood swings are a lot of the reason ppl can't handle or deal with me so someone who won't mind them so much would be nice? or someone who can rationalize and help me through emotions and things. i also need a lot of attention but not in an overwhelming suffocating way. im also hypersexual and it has a big part in my relationships and i need someone to keep up with that too. i have tendencies of being a bit manipulative but i dont. like that about myself. i dont like to go out a lot and would much rather stay at home. i dont mind going out to quieter places or just doing mundane things! i also do like going out for food + for conventions or events related to my interests. amusement parks also rock. i have special interests in animals (marine animals, cats, dogs), mythological creatures, the paranormal, cryptids, cosplay, animanga, video games (especially rpgs + visual novels + dating sims + rhythm games), old web, character analysis, horror media, and psychology.

hopefully thats enough? tysm

Trade!

Your genshin match is Wriothesley!

He's patient, funny, a great judge of character and respectful. What more could you ask for? Once you two break the ice you hit it off rather well. He's very caring as a lover without being overbearing. He's always here when you're in trouble and always looks out for you in his own way.

Wrio is definitely someone who can deal with you, he's patient after all. Especially with his lover. He knows when you're reaching your limit and he has a space in his office just for you to rest. But at the same time he's ready for you to innitiate more activities together. The most important is that you know he loves you. He shows his love through small acts and gifts. He always gives you his time and learned to convey his feelings with little gifts through the day.You always receive flowers, chocolates and a good lunch from him.

When he can, he'd love to go assist events at the surface! When he really can't he'll just order/make the foods he wants you to try. He also always gets a bunch of movies so the two of you can watch them together. As much as he enjoys physical affection, he'll always wait for you to initiate first. Once you give him the go he becomes another man.

Overall, it's a very nice relationship where you don't publicly show your love but people still know it's there. Wriothesley is patient and will always wait for you to come around. And he still gives you gentle pushes to encourage your goals.

Your JJBA match is...Kakyoin!

Not gonna lie, Bruno was a close second but Kakyoin is way more playfull and chill. Both know how to guve you space but Kakyoin knows how to have fun.

Kakyoin shows his love through acts and quality time. He likes going on dates with you to explore new places yet also takes care of you and does his best to make you more comfortable. He's not that big on physical touch either so you don't really have to worry about this. When you engages he'll just happily welcomes it.

He absolutely loves playing video games with you! The two of you spend hours at arcades and the scores are often a tie! He also loves horror movies. One of the most common things you two do is just...sit in a pleasant place and discuss a recent movie/video game you two did. He's also quite cultivated in mythology so he has nice book recommendations. Food isn't much his things so he'd rather follow your recommendations.

Overall, you two are the average high school sweethearts but on the more timid side. People just know that you're soulmates by the way he looks at you.

[konyntje]

Anticipation

It's late at night and our first sleepover. We just started dating and we agreed to take it slow. But laying next to him in my small bed makes my mind wander. I start drawing little circles on his chest smelling his perfume. When he catches me sniffing his neck he finally asks me with a smirk.

"what are you doing there?"

"nothing" I reply innocently. I still don't know about his preferences but luckily I'm about to find out the sweetest things.

"aand what would you like to do?"

"you tell me" I whisper.

"I see" he nodds. "Do you want me to tell you a story? But it might be a bit-"

I quickly shake my head in agreement with dolly eyes.

"Okay, come here." He hugs me tightly as I cuddle myself to him. He then proceeds to talk with a lower voice.

"You told me you like partying huh? What if we would have gone out tonight. Just the two of us, with you in a tiny little dress. But it's not a usual club. They have a special place for people like us."

I look up wondering.

"Shh." he whispers as he gently pulls my head back into its place next to his.

"Or do you want me to stop already?"

Of course I decline. But how did he know I'm a little kinky? Is it really that obvious?

"It's a very dark room. You can barely see your own hand in front of you. I would take yours and guide you into it. And after I found a corner between the others for us I would pull you closer to make out with you."

I start envisioning us smooching wildly and me holding on to his strong shoulders while hearing all kinds of moaning surrounding us.

"Or maybe.. maybe I would just grobe you. Starting with your chest. And eventually teasing your nipples..

..turn you around and pull up your skirt, following a good slap on your cute ass..

..sliding my hand down your panty and starting to gently follow your curves..

..fingering you with my other hand."

I find myself on top of him, grabbing into him and with his thigh between my legs. While he is stroking my hear, I can not only feel his warm breath against my ear but also a wet spot forming in my pyjamas. While listening to him I must have slowly started humping on him.

"No no no you naughty girl." He giggles and turns me around firmly. He then places his rock hard dick against my butt and grabs my wrists.

"Please fuck me already." I whimper.

"Wasn't it you who said that anticipation feels the best? So stop rubbing against me and listen"

I have no choice than to agree. Why does forced abstinence have to turn me on like that? Again whispering in my ear he proceeds his story.

"Eventually you find yourself with shaking legs, all weak, as I am holding you up on your wrists. While I'm still moving inside of you I start exploring the rest of your private parts with my thump and start massaging your other little hole."

I'm wiggling my butt against his cock. It's a form of showing curiosity, i guess. He moans a bit.

"I pull out my fingers, all wet by now, and slowlyyy place them deep up your ass. Your turning towards me, just like before. Trying to hide your face. Fuck, you're so easy to embarrass. Being fingered in your ass in front of others and liking it so much that you're begging me to fuck you."

"Yes. Yes pleaaase."

"I give it the same treatment as your pussy. Rough and fast. Then again slow. You get it. I want you to remember me the next day."

I whimper between his arms, wiggling around. He wraps his leg around me and grabs me harder to keep me in place. How I wish he would play with my clit in this position right know. I'd come immediately.

"When you're finally dripping down your legs I stop. Give you one last slap and pull your panties in place again and your dress down. I give you a smooch and eventually take your hand. It's time to take you home."

"And then?" I ask shyly.

"Then you go to bed and sleep like a good girl."

He gives me a kiss on my cheek. I turn towards him.

"Will we actually do this?"

"If you want to I would love to" he replies in a sweet voice.

I blush and wiggle.

"Then how are you staying so calm?"

"Anticipation." Another kiss. "Goodnight. We should sleep now."

[drowningindango]

"holding hands during a stressful situation" is this not canon for madaobi in the 4th war?

(It's true. Many people are so distracted by NaruHina holding hands that they don't notice the villains were holding hands the entire time while murdering people. /jk

Anyway, here you go <3 Read under the cut or on ao3.)

The roar of the Juubi rolled over the battlefield with a force that shook the earth. It disturbed the masses of people on the ground, causing them to scatter and reform whenever a bijuu dama was sent towards them. With the eye of an ordinary shinobi, the people below them would look like ants, indistinguishable from each other from this height. But the two Uchiha standing on top of the Juubi were blessed with enhanced eyesight. It was easy to spot the two jinchuuriki and the bigger threats in the crowd.

But the further the Juubi evolved, the harder it was to control it.

Obito felt the strain it put on his psyche and chakra to stay in control. The beast was as difficult to steer as a giant ship, and not because it was unwilling, no. It was numb, mindless… and it needed a strong will to convince it to move at all. The hurdle only grew the more power it gained.

If it had not been for Madara…

He glanced to his left, where the other man stood. He was also connected to the Juubi and it helped. Usually, too many cooks spoil the broth. Two heads to control the juubi should have been difficult to balance. But with Madara it felt as natural as breathing.

His eyes wandered lower, to where their hands were snuggly intertwined.

He could sense their chakra flowing, dancing together, forming a leash to keep the Juubi in line. Despite the manifestation of pure power boiling right underneath his feet, Obito stood there unfazed, grounded. Madara's hand was not warm, not cold, his grip was firm yet he almost forgot they were touching at all. Like an extension of Obito's self, or perhaps it was the other way around. That was likely how Madara would see it.

There was a near unnoticeable sting in his chest. He shoved it away. He always knew he was nothing but a means to an end to the old man. A mindless little pawn whose ultimate job was to ensure Madara would be revived. No matter how it looked from the outside, there was nothing intimate to this act of holding hands. Nothing emotional. It would be a naive mistake to assume it meant anything…

Obito inhaled his breath just a tad sharper when a pinky slowly grazed the outside of his hand. His eyes flickered back to Madara, but the other man was still focused on the movements of the resistance below. Maybe it was an accident, he thought, but then Madara began to stroke his skin again, this time with his thumb. A single, repetitive pattern that went back and forth. "Soothing" was the first thing that came to mind, but this action only confused him more.

What need was there for this kind of assurance? It was not like either of them was scared of the pitiful, unenlightened crowd beneath them.

The tender, almost unnoticeable touches continued. Whatever intention was behind them, they at least served a purpose and calmed him down. Controlling the Juubi was becoming easier and easier by the minute. He could sense that Madara was in a similar state, and for a moment, he felt good… until he remembered that this mental connection was a two way street. Everything he felt, Madara felt as well. The realisation was enough of a distraction that suddenly the Juubi missed its next shot. Obito's jaw tensed and he shot Madara another look.

The tiniest of smirks lifted that bastard's lips.

And then their eyes locked and fuck if he didn't want to wipe away that smug grin with something.

Obito hastily looked away.

But his own fingers began to return the favour.

[hela2romantikos]

“ People who shut their eyes to reality simply invite their own destruction, and anyone who insists on remaining in a state of innocence long after that innocence is dead turns himself into a monster. “ - James Baldwin

I want you 2 know that I am going over your words slowly throughout the day, constantly, and the problems you propose to me are so obvious but in some way each is like a whole desert or ocean to cross. I was also able to talk a whole lot with Jai and he was able to help me to see things that i would not have seen myself, little things, little very important things. It was sad to see how it was almost completely impossible for him to relate to me or even imagine he could in my accounts of all these things that had happened, i had been mourning for his pain since a couple of days before and angry with his girlfriend in some way, and it hurts and helps me to see or to empathise much more the fact that he could only relate with your feelings and position in this all. 

You have written so many beautiful things about me, the person in this earth that i think has most questioned me and gotten closest to seeing and witnessing the person I am ( there are many many layers of ideas and illusions of the other that keep most people from ever getting to that lucidity, i am not saying i am great or important to witness, but looking at someone, when all of those layers suddenly have vanished and seeing the living breathing warm complex creature that they are with all of the force of nature i think is a big part of the human experience of love ) I know you have really loved me.      i think actually you have helped me see so much of me and my complexity, you have sometimes a terribly clear vision that penetrates illusions and sees THRU things. Its also not ur job to be my mirror nor my psychologist or anything of that matter. But I want to say it just feels both great and intimidating to be observed by you, I fell in love with that interrogating gaze of yours.

To be able to find myself in a position to be able to think somewhat more clearly about things, and also because I in change do find myself in a kind of chaotic sadness, that is a big storm that passes thru all of my body and an abyss that opens up inside of me, that seems inescapable, and 4 which there is no shelter, and colours all experiences and stares at me from the background of all things, I have had to start going for these very long walks which i begin as soon as possible and which take up almost my entire day. I wake up, I put on clothes and eat something small as quick as possible, much more quick than usual, fill up some bottle of water and i leave. And i just walk without thinking much about where I am going, just the steps and my thoughts and the relief too of momentarily escaping them through exhaustion or heat or weather, or thru birds and animals and images that interrupt and change things. I walk for two reasons : the immensity of my sadness and fear is simply unbearable and I would be unable to do very much without doing some sort of thing to calm it, the other being that each time I do write or sort of discover something, because surprisingly it is a process of discovery, there are simple and disturbing truths about my actions that are very difficult to bring up to the surface, i feel much much better, even so to be able to have a conversation about something entirely not related to the thoughts that flood my mind and so on.. 

I also put myself in a crystal box i suppose, at some point in all this, and now its shattered and I am panicking. 

One does many things with intentions of which they have got no clear idea. The desire to move to a new city does not contain in anyway even a suggestion of the experiences to come. My intentions were certainly not clear but they existed nonetheless, in the things i have done, and its slowly coming to the surface. Tho maybe ill never find out completely what i was trying to do.

If i do take long to respond it is because I've got to make my way through lots and lots of things, i want to try to think it over well, and not write from the position of my more exaggerated and dramatic feelings but from something or somewhere more clear. 

I have suspected I might have a problem with dissociation. I guess I do forget that it happens after time, it comes up in face of difficult emotional situations, i believe. I have tried to explain to you that the night of our ‘bad trip’ I literally just completely dissociated, i wasn't even drugged or hallucinating anymore ( it didn't feel like ), I just simply was not there, had no sense of identity just a whirling void inside with no truth nor voice and i could not communicate because i thought nothing and had nothing to say. I was nothing, it was frightening, I had only vanity to comfort me and the ideas you had of me in that moment to latch on to, to pretend to be someone. Maybe it did start with my meeting up with Federico, I kind of hated him in that moment but pretended that i did not and in that self betrayal sort-of left myself. Pretending to be a certain way, acting like the person the other wants you to be, actually leads to not having much of a grasp of who you actually were before you started pretending. 

I don’t believe that this problem is the only factor in all my behaviours, there are many, many i realise. My behaviours have been really a complex result of many, many things. I guess I can’t ignore that not so long ago I had such an intense and irrational social anxiety that most interactions were impossible for me. It probably did not magically disappear, i just picked up some bad habits along the way to cope with it. I think it does have to do with that anxiety the reason why i have such irrational and absurd preoccupations like to think about whether i should give someone a hug or not when i see them. There is a darker side of it though, maybe a personal drive to keep being this way, and something deeply rooted in selfishness, which I think is a secret personal enjoyment of this fear. I mean the fear is almost always very selfish. If I am running late to some place, the entire time i am thinking about how much everyone will hate me when i arrive 20 minutes late and how it will ruin their image of me and how they might never forgive me for such a thing, the terrible part about it is that i never think about how it actually affects them and it seems like I actually want them to hate me. I imagine it some kind of chemical addiction, and in the end these things are masochistic tendencies. I don’t know to what extent i have done things to play with a rush i get from the possibility of making the person that i love the most hate me, the idea is terrifying, but there could be some truth to it. Its like bringing myself to the edge of a cliff, looking down, feeling that vertigo and the possibility of the jump and then just walking away with the rush of it all. The thing is that my own self-destructive behaviours will harm not only me but so many other people involved in my life. I’m not saying that I have done any of this with that intention clear in mind, that would be insane, but maybe somehow it was a secret motive to my impulses. The other selfish aspect of my fear, is that i lose all memory of what is important to me and act in a way to avoid a momentary and unimportant uncomfortability that will have an affect on the things that i really do care about and cause much more pain and discomfort in the future. I act in the present, in the face of fear, abandoning that future and everything I care for that is not directly in front of me or in the room. 

There is another aspect, and its that Natalia literally pushed me in the direction of the gay boys that stared at me in parties. She wanted me to talk to them and encouraged me too, even if I wasn't interested. I feel like she really wanted me to be gay, convinced me I was, because she thought i was cooler for it or I've really got no idea. Or maybe because she was? There are many wounds from that relationship I've still got to understand and work through, I also know I wasn't perfect with her either. But there are still many situations where I do simply act on the part of my ego, or my dick, under party lights or when the opportunity comes, and that night you came to the party where Samuel was playing was one of those times. I don’t actually remember who that prettiest guy in the room was or me dancing with him, I remember u left to the bathroom and i moved around that sea of bodies in capricious impulses and flashes, I remember dancing with Anil, strangers, without you there i felt the need to attach to some other body, I felt like I would throw up if I didn’t, I also was taking advantage of the fact you weren't around for a moment, because I wouldn't have done the same with you there. Looking back on that seems so sad to me, because i passed the night before you arrived looking for you among all those faces, in anticipation to see if you would come, and i was so happy when you did, I knew you didn't want to be there so much but I was so so happy u came. I know then I knew what I was doing, because I know I thought i’d better stop before you came back out. 

[kreber414]

Sketchbook 2

The 6 principles of design are unity and variety, balance, emphasis and subordination, directional forces, repetition and rhythm, and scale and proportion. Unity is when there isn't much of anything happening in the art work, the book used an example of an artwork that just has a yellow cube leaning against a wall. On the other hand, variety is what usually what gives an artwork more characteristic. However, if you have to much variety, the art might not look as appealing to the eye. For example, if you walk into somebody's house and there are square, circle, and triangle shaped pictures mixed around all over every wall, you might think that is a little no much variety. Whereas if they have some square and some circle pictures mixed around on a few walls it might won't be as much variety and calm down the intense look. Balance is making something equal. For example, when you build a house, usually all the windows on the front are the same shape. Meaning theres not some square windows and some trapezoid windows and some triangle windows, they are usually are squares and rectangles. If the house was symmetric but you put some triangular windows on half of the house, it wouldn't be balanced anymore. Emphasis is used to draw attention to some specific detail. When I write my notes for some of my classes, if I was a specific word or definition to stand out to me, usually I write it in a different color or highlight it so it stands out over the rest of the note. Subordination is what tones back the emphasis of something in an art work. The book uses Titian's painting Noli Me Tangere to show that the people are put in the center of the painting to give them emphasis but they are lighter colors than the rest of the painting because their actions are supposed to be what stands out. Directional forces are used in art to appeal to they eye, they show the viewer what they are supposed to look at next but its not like an arrow showing us, its just known by the viewer. For example, the book uses an example from Jockeys Before the Race to show how the viewer interprets the action in the art. We have learned to read left to right top to bottom so when you look at an artwork usually you look left to right, top to bottom unless you notice otherwise from the context of the painting. Repetition is when something keeps coming back. For example, if you are telling a story to someone and you keep saying "and then", you are using a lot of repetition and sometimes it can be to much. Rhythm is repetition but has some changes to it. For example, if you made four paintings of the same house and put some kind of animal in the yard in the same spot every time, thats rhythm. Scale is the size of something compared to another thing. If you drew a picture of a family standing in a line and there were two parents and three kids one kid was 10-years-old one kid was 7-years-old and one kid was 3-years-old, you are going to have to scale them all down a little more compared to the last one. Proportion is the size of something to another or to everything. Using the same example as above, you might be comparing the size of the 7-year-old to the entire family or you could compare them to the 10-year-old and you will get different results.

In Vincent Van Gogh's Old Man with His Head in His Hands (figure 6.7 page 99) the artist uses the man in the chair as the focal point but he also has what looks like a fireplace and some wood in the background behind the man. Because the work is in black and white, the use of shading is very important and his shading was done very well in my opinion. We can see the implied lines in his pants and the bricks on the fireplace. While he emphasizes the figure of the man, he doesn't overdo it because we still notice other parts of the painting and we still notice his actions.

Color has effected me in a lot of different ways including what i wear and the colors i see in my every day life. I wear warm colors normally because that's what i think looks best on me. My room is decorated in a modern but welcoming way. The intensity of both the modern look and the welcoming look are not to overwhelming to make it unwelcoming but they also aren't not enough to not give it that welcoming feeling. The best color scheme I could use to represent my life is some sort of blue and gray color scheme. My favorite color is blue and my eyes are blue but a lot of what I have is blue but when I use blue I also usually use gray.

I choose to paint a swimming pool because swimming is something that I am very passionate about. I swim 5 days a week year around so it is pretty much my life at this point and I don't know where I would be without swimming.

5. I know about these logos because they appear on things that we use every day. When I choose what I am going to wear in the morning, sometimes I choose my outfit based on the brand/logo. Logos are very important because without them there would be no way to differentiate between different things. For example, your favorite pair of pants is adidas but you have nike pants that look the exact same but are not nearly as comfortable. It is going to be a lot easier to differentiate between the two if there is a logo rather than putting both pairs on and figuring it out that way.  

I understand the value of logos because from a young age we are taught that people wear certain things and certain brands and those are the brands that everyone then wants to have. This has helped me learn and realize what all the different brands I see in my daily life are and how they effect the way we live. The Apple logo for example is a huge part of a lot of peoples lives, so its important to know what it looks like so you can identify something Apple from something thats Samsung. 

[servin-up-surveys]

survey #172

If you could meet anyone on this earth, who would it be? Still Markiplier. He's such a motivating voice that seems so pleasant and inspiring to be around, I'd love to talk for even a few minutes with him.

What’s one thing you hope never changes? The fact that in the big picture, I think there are far more people with good consciences and positive aspirations than negative, mean-hearted people. It'd be great if there were none of the latter, but I know that's entirely unrealistic.

What is one childhood memory that you remember especially well? Fishing trips with my dad. I especially enjoyed when he'd take me and sometimes Nicole out on his little blue boat, and waking up early for this particularly was so fun and exciting. I remember we'd bring little snacks, like those tiny Milky Way squares or 3 Musketeers... It was all so warm and calming. There are times where I kind of want to start fishing again, just as a bonding experience with my dad, but idk, I feel bad lol.

Who is your celebrity crush? Richard Kruspe could litcherally be my dad like he has kids older than me but I DON'T CARE

How do you vent your anger? Cry, most often lol. Or I'll talk to the people closest to me, write, or draw. Sometimes I listen to angry music.

Do you have a collection of anything? Meerkat stuff and Silent Hill merch.

What are some core principles you have that you'll never give up or change? Peace always before violence, remember that no one person is always right, morality is not always black-and-white, have compassion, be open to learning and admitting you're wrong, and if someone's life choices have absolutely no direct effect on you (abortion, gender transitioning, etc.), keep your rotten fucking opinions out of it.

What trait do you admire in others but don't possess yourself? Having the ability to say no/completely unabashedly enforce your boundaries. I fucking love these people that are so comfy in expressing their needs and limits to keep THEIR life healthy. The honesty is so beneficial to healthy relationships, imo.

Are you ticklish? If so, where? Yes, basically everywhere that it's normal to be ticklish.

What was the last movie you saw? For the first time? It was probably The Secret Life of Pets while helping my mom watch Emerson. She loves that movie and its sequel.

What’s the worst injury you’ve ever had? Fainting in the bathroom and getting a concussion, probably. I landed on my chin so got a very deep cut in my chin that needed stitches, I broke some teeth (thankfully all molars so it wasn't something anyone saw), I'm absolutely certain I got bruises from falling, but worst of all was definitely being concussed itself; it knocked me clean the fuck out, thankfully, and upon awaking I had a brief but VERY upsetting window of amnesia, and to this day I still don't remember the impact and only barely falling. It wasn't a light concussion that I could still operate okay with either, I was bed-bound for days, and I remember how miserable it was.

Do you tend to hold grudges against people who have done you wrong? Generally, very big no. If I'm holding a grudge against you, you either wronged the FUCK out of me or you've proven that you're a recurring problem that shouldn't be in my life. Time usually makes me forgive like, anyone, and I really wish it didn't lmao.

Basic question: what’s your favorite color/colors? Shades of pink completely top the list! I'm particularly fond of light, bubblegum pinks, and I'm very into coral/salmon as a color, too. Light purples are also nice.

Do you have a fast or slow metabolism? I have hypothyroidism, so without my medication it's appallingly slow. Thankfully though, Levothyroxine has normalized it, I saw my endocrinologist just a few days ago and she's super pleased with how well it's affected my numbers.

Ever seen a pregnant woman smoking/drinking? I have, it's super upsetting to see. I get it if you're trying to force a miscarriage because you can't otherwise get an abortion for any reason, but to see mothers-to-be put their unborn child they supposedly want and love in such a devastating environment breaks my heart, it's just not something I can wrap my head around.

Do you like hickeys? I've always been such a fucking biter of a girlfriend so I can't say shit against it lmfao, just don't put one in an obvious spot that's gonna make convos awkward lmao.

How many people have you had feelings for since high school ended? Confident feelings, three. Jason and I were still dating after high school.

Has the last person you dated/fell in love with ever seen you cry? Yeah, that's not a hard thing to see with me lmfao

Do you still talk with your latest ex? No, and we shouldn't.

Did you get any compliments today? Girt called me the best girlfriend :')

Do you own anything bought in another country? No, but hopefully one day!

Who do you text the most? My mom, lol.

Do you miss your last ex? Romantically, absolutely not; post-us, I've realized there are a number of things that just made Sara and me not an ideal couple. I occasionally have instances where I miss her as a friend, but I'm fully aware it's nostalgia, and to be friends again with her would be to ignore a very unstable basis in our relationship. I can miss the good times with her, but I know I could never allow us to try associating with one another again.

Have you ever known a guy who caused a lot of drama? Yes, at least two.

Is where you live on a boulevard, road, street, or avenue? Court.

What would you name twin girls? Most likely Alessandra and Anneliese, if I actually kept both babies, which would be very unlikely in the already-small chance I decide I want kids at all. I'd probably abort whichever one appeared less healthy.

Do you want to have a bachelorette party? ... what do you even do at these? lmfao idk, I don't really have real-life friends to do it with anyway.

When was the last time you prayed with someone? I didn't actually pray, but at Girt's uncle's big party, I still did the motions just to go along and feel less awkward. I couldn't even guess the last time I actually prayed.

What time of year do you start listening to Christmas music? I never do deliberately. By this point in my life I have the least interest hearing it, because Jason's late mother LOVED it and would get so in the mood for it for Christmas, and it makes my heart hurt. She was funny, she wasn't at all religious, but she just loved that time of year and its music. I will always, always miss her.

If you’re female, would you feel uncomfortable having a male gynecologist? Absofuckinglutely, I would literally refuse to see him. I'm sorry but you could never make me believe a cis male gynecologist isn't there for a specific reason, it's fucking creepy, you're not touching me.

Were you ever hospitalized as a child? No, thankfully.

What do you get tired of having to explain? My mental health history.

Who is your least favorite character in the last show you watched? No opinion in this series yet.

If you weren’t in a relationship with your significant other (or last) and you met them for the first time tonight, would you hook up with them? No, only because I don't "hook up" with people. We'd have to establish a relationship first.

Is there a place that makes you sad to return to? The ER is a VERY negative place for me that I hate a hell of a lot; being in there is hell for me. I also have trouble riding past Jason's house; I always instinctively look to see if he or his dad's car is there, it's a habit of like, verifying to myself that he's alive and okay. I literally do feel calmer when I see both cars there. Driving by it doesn't affect me too much anymore and hasn't for a couple years, but regardless, the "is he okay" check is a habit I haven't broken.

Has anyone ever surprised you by changing when you didn’t believe that they could? Yes, my dad.

Do you and your significant other have "a song?" What is it? Not really; there are some that make me think of him, but we don't have like this real, established "song."

Do you think it’s bullying to tell someone they’re naive? No, that's a strange idea.

Which name do you like better: Faith, Grace, or Hope? Grace.

Do any of your neighbors have dogs? Yeah, I know our next-door neighbor has a big and very loud one named Kira, and you can sometimes hear other dogs in the neighborhood bark, too.

When is the last time you went on a date? We donated blood together this past Sunday, and I considered it a cute lil date, haha. That was fun, we rarely go out to do something together, he's just such a homebody.

Has a police officer ever committed a crime against you? No, thankfully.

If you had kids, would take them to Disney World? I would absolutely want to at least once. It was so magical as a child, and I feel like it still would be as an adult.

Does it bother you when girls make duck faces? It doesn't "bother" me, I just think it looks really dumb, I never got the appeal.

Has a little kid ever fallen asleep on your lap before? Yes.

Would you ever try anal? If you have, were you always keen to try it? I haven't and I never will, I am VERY disinterested in butt stuff. That's a border I'm not willing to cross.

If you were to get engaged, what’s your dream engagement ring? Something rose gold or dragon's breath opal, I don't really know which I would prefer for engagement and then marriage. I'm not a snob about these sorts of rings though, you could basically get me anything and I'd be appreciative. I'll like whatever ring you looked at and thought of me.

Would you feel hurt if your last ex was in a relationship? Not at all.

Who was the last person you played a video game with? Girt!

Would you tell your parents if you were gay? I told Mom directly when I knew I wasn't straight, and Dad knows I've dated a girl so he knows as well.

What’s one aspect of your life that did not turn out as you expected? Kid Brittany would be mortified to know her 27-year-old self hasn't had a single stable job yet...

Who do you think cares the most about you? Mom.

Does it bother/offend you when someone calls something (not someONE) gay? Yes, because gay is not an insult and not equivalent to calling something stupid, either.

How old are your parents? Early 60s.

What is the oddest thing that’s happened to you? have y'all ever had to get a cyst in your asscheek surgically removed bc i have

Your favorite band: Do you prefer their old or new stuff? For Ozzy, I feel like I enjoy his like... middle period most? Albums like Ozzmosis, Down to Earth, and Black Rain are peak Ozzy for me, so for context just before 2000 and a few years after. I tend to enjoy Rammstein's newer stuff more, I think. I do have a notably strong love for their Mutter album, which is one of the oldest, though.

When was the last time you met someone who shared your first name? Someone in Girt's dad's side of the family, pretty sure she's his cousin.

Do you have health insurance? I have Medicaid. I technically should be too old for it, but I know there's some reason my parents had to fight for that allows me to keep it.

What does your doormat say? We don’t have one.

What would you rather have: a nanny, a housekeeper, a cook, or a chauffeur? Housekeeper, for sure.

[chillwell-portableac]

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[mu-pt1]

MU, Pt. 4

(might just turn into me ranting about everything) went out for a daily walk this morning. I finally decided to step out the barrier that was my neighborhood. I found myself wandering all over the place and into neighborhoods I didnt even recognize. its very funny how you can feel which neighborhoods arent welcoming to well...your kind. (do you get what I mean?) I tried to go further in said neighborhood but I felt an odd presence. everything looked like a person with no face silently judging me. it got to the point I immediately turned around and left when I saw a simple car parked on the street. I dont know what caused that. paranoia maybe? or maybe I was just being dramatic. I ended up coming across this long, empty road. it felt like a ghost town. but I was ontop of a hill. but miles away, I could still see the city lights sparkling. ive always loved the city even though ive never really spent much of my life in it. ive always lived in some secluded town right outside of it. ive never minded it much though. it always felt...cozy in a way. I never leave the house much anymore. I think thats the problem for my greatly increasing anxiety. the only thing thats really helped calm me down is by forcing myself to do stuff I dont wanna do due to being too scared. and then I always tell myself “those people are too busy in their own minds about their own worries and doubts that they dont even realize youre there. just keep doing what youre doing.”

ive always wanted to work at a cafe or bakery. I dont know. the thought of it was so warming. especially on the chilly winter nights. especially when im doing most of the work by myself. being by myself isnt so bad. not as bad as I thought. I used to think I had to have friends and a lover in order to be worthy of living. thats why I was always trying not to live. but now, im used to it. (im getting off topic. lets switch back?) of course, if I were to ever work at a cafe or bakery, it would never be something like Starbucks or dunkin. theyre popular chain restaurants and would be too stressful for me. I would work at a small unknown business right off the corner of a small town. theres a bakery not too far from me. ive been waiting for them to finish preparing the place so I could maybe get a job there. im not sure. I was also told I should work at kumon or as a camp counselor. Im still considering those two since I really have no issue with working with kids. they can be cute...sometimes.

[amour393]

CLING CLANG HEAR YE HEAR YE

Kai can (probably) heat his hands at will and YA MNOW WHAT THAT MEANS

KAI CAN CAUTERIZE WOUNDS

AND NOW I NEED A SITUATION WHERE SOMEONE IS BLEEDING OUT AND EVERYONE IS PANICKING AND KAI CAUTERIZES THE WOUND AJFHFJSSJFHSJ

[momentsatmydesk]

My Thoughts on ‘Our Beloved Summer’

In a line or two: 

Our Beloved Summer was such a healing, therapeutic watch that did not hide the 'humanness' of love.

The story: 

The drama is about two exes--- Kook Yeon Soo and Choi Woong (high-school students when they began dating) who had a 5-year relationship and broke up. They meet 5 years later and agree (fact: are forced) to shoot a documentary similar to the one they shot in high school. What starts from a '100 Things I Hate About You' turns into an introspective, messy yet heart-warming return to each other.

My Thoughts:

1. I love the layers in Kook Yeon Soo's personality. She's smart, socially inadept, deadpan, and more sensitive than she lets herself acknowledge. I love how the flaws in her character actually make her more endearing and relatable.

2. Kim Ji Woong, our male lead's best friend, is actually the prettiest one here, according to me. He's at constant war with himself, but I also love how he returns to the camera to shoot people's raw selves and finds comfort in it. 

I especially love his friendship with Choi Ung, who despite knowing that Kim Ji Woong has feelings for Yeon Soo, doesn’t push him away.

3. I thought the drama would come to be overwhelming given its storyline. But surprisingly, I couldn't keep away from it because of how comforting I found it to be. 

4. Then we have K-pop idol NJ. She's such a fireball. She's funny, adorable, and yet so trapped and defined by people's idea of her. I love how Choi Ung and she decide to remain friends, comforting each other when things aren't going their way. 

5. Okay, I love Choi Ung's parents so much! Honestly, the idea of running a restaurant and feeding people good food is the definition of a beautiful life for me. However, their care for Ung and his art is so cute and heart rendering.

6. It was through NJ that I realized how joy-crushing fame can be. You forget who you are and try too hard to become someone else's expectations of who you should be.

7. I think Choi-Ung's definition of happiness: "To do lie down and watch the sunlight stream through leaves" was when I first fell for him. 

I love how he's never glorified 'living big'. He's so content with his wants. He knows exactly the kind of people he wants to be around and isn't afraid to go for an unconventional way of living if it makes him peaceful and happy.

8. When they all head for a 3-day trip for the shoot, I got really emotional watching Yeon Soo enjoy herself. It was so nice to see her smile and laugh and let herself free. 

That was the first time I realized how lonely she must have been all these years, handling responsibilities and pushing people away to avoid hurt.

9. My favorite moment of the series was when Ung is waiting for Yeon's answer: will she travel to Germany with him as he enrolls in the architecture program? They meet at Sol Yi's restaurant and Yeon Soo chooses to stay back in Korea because that's what feels right to her. 

There is this amazing moment where they know what they have to do for themselves and yet are so supportive of each other, without letting go of the love they've fought so hard to come back to.

10.Then we have Sol-Yi. I mean, who cannot love her? She's Yeon Soo's 'Reality Check Provider' and also her soundboard + BFF. I have to say I absolutely enjoy watching Park Jin Joo on screen. Even with her supporting role in 'Her Private Life', she was fabulous. 

Here, Sol Yi is spontaneous, has a I-am-the-love-guru vibe and is atrocious in her choice of men. She cooks mediocre food but she doesn't give up on her dream. She's sassy, rude, amazing, and absolutely honest.

11. Lastly, I want to say I came to love Chae Ran so much. She's assistant produce to Kim Ji Ung and is also his unmistakable 'soulmate'. She possess so much sensitivity and yet is so calm and cool. 

I love how she decides to wait for Kim Ji Ung to be in a better headspace before she confesses her feelings for him. That was such a mature, soft, 'ah' moment.

Learnings:

1. When the Universe gives you second chances, grab them with both hands and work to give them your all. People do not come into your life accidentally. Each one is there for a reason.

2. Love has a funny, soft, ridiculously amazing way to make itself known. Allow yourself to feel it when it knocks your door. (P.S: Open it wide and let love rain in your heart.)

3. Love is a fairytale, with all the sparkles, the imperfections, the laughs, the tears, the growth, the support, and the gooey-warm feeling you get when you're with someone right for you.

4. Forgiveness is hard. But regret is worse. 

5. Whoever you were has made you who you are today. But you can always change if you don't like who you've become.

Last Words: 

Oh, please watch this show. It is absolutely adorable, warm and mature.💕💕

[apocalypticgargoyle]

I read the edgy!karl, I’ve just finished reading the alt!dream, WHEN IS GEORGE GONNA BE NEXT 😩😩

*cracks knuckles* the hcs that everyone has provided me with has hella prepped me and I'm ready. this is dedicated to 🍭 anon, whose fanart always steals my entire heart. i love u babe

𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃 𝐌𝐄. ᶤ 𝐩𝐮𝐧𝐤!𝐠𝐧𝐟

± pairings: punk!Georgenotfound x fm!reader

± word count: ~3300

± warnings: smut (18+), language, tattoo work, sadism, pain kink (if you squint), domination, mentions of needles, asphyxiation

song recommendation: Cent Fois by Alice et Moi

George’s mind wandered to his curiosity of the shop across from his tattoo parlor; bright neon signs advertising the local psychic. It was a stark contrast to the dark, wet city housing the businesses. Each night he locked up, he found himself standing on the other edge of the street, staring at the signs and draperies peeking from behind the glass windows and considering shedding his skeptical nature just for one night.

While your business was alluring in and of itself, his true draw to the place came after he had spotted you moving into the apartments above. Your clean appearance completely juxtaposed the business you ran. In his opinion, all natural healers and psychics were born scam artists only focused on the quickest way to pinch a penny.

Yet day after day, he found himself having to tear his eyes from your business just to get home or he would actually venture inside. He was rather subtle about his fascination when it came to his co-workers and regular customers, but each day he prayed you would wander in, requesting some kind of tattoo in a place hidden from outside eyes.

A place he’d like to see again in a less professional setting.

You flipped the textbook page after finishing your paragraph, highlighting a date you were looking for before leaning towards your notebook and scribbling down the fact. You gnawed on the end of your pen absent-mindedly, positive you still didn’t know what your professor had been rattling off about in class a few hours prior. Your sights drifted up to the incense burning across the store from you, the stick on its last few centimeters of wood as the smoke went stale.

You chew on the inside of your cheek, debating if you should light another or wait until morning. You capped your marker and stretched your back, the bell over the door letting out a telling chime as a man peeked in.

You leaned over the counter, closing your books. “Good evening! Welcome to After Life. Can I help you find anything?” You rambled, your mind flashing to the sheet of paper tucked into the frame of your bathroom mirror so you didn’t forget the basics of customer service.

The man stepped further into your view, stuffing his fists in his jean pockets as he walked closer in a cautious motion. His dark t-shirt advertised a band you had vaguely heard of, but couldn’t think of a song even if your life depended on it. What really drew your attention were his tattooed arms; branches from a grand tree twisting every which direction to peek out from beneath his sleeves; bright floral designs and litters of birds decorating the dark wood limbs. You bit back a smile at the small mushroom tattoo near his wrist that seemed to be out of place.

The laces of his Chuck Taylors grazed the floor before he was standing in the middle of your store, looking around briefly. “I actually co-own the parlor across the street. I realized I never welcomed you officially,” he stated, hints of nervousness reflecting in his tone. His accent was calming and husky from the season change.

At the mention of the tattooist across the street, your memory flashed to the various walks of life that found themselves in your store after getting work done. You also thought of the fact that you had seen the man before you break up fights in the street stretching between your properties. The tall muscular people seemed to have no effect on him as he’d pull them apart like school children on the playground.

You pushed your books further to the side. “Oh yeah, that’s right! I should have come over and introduced myself, so don’t worry about it,” you eased, swatting the air of his comment.

He chuckled softly before reality seemed to snap into his head, making him step forward and extend a hand to you. “I’m George, by the way,” he introduced. You took his hand, muttering your own name and hoping your attention span would hold for long enough that he would be entered into your long-term memory.

His hand was calloused in yours, something that you wondered came with the job or if he was some kind of carpenter in a past life of his. You gently pulled his hand closer to you, slipping your hold out of his to look at his palm. He tittered nervously, peering at the flesh with you. Your finger traced along the mounts in his hand, finding Jupiter to be the most prominent. “That checks out,” you mumbled to yourself, nodding softly.

His eyebrows perked up. “What? Am… Am I gonna meet a tall dark stranger and take a trip across the sea?” He joked, making you smile as you looked at his Sun line.

“I didn’t peg you as an Outlander fan,” you chided.

His brows flattened for a moment, chewing the inside of his lip and playing with his snake bite piercings. You found it hard to look away from him. “Honestly, I wasn’t. A girl I was fooling around with really liked it. I don’t know…” he trailed off, making you giggle.

Your nail grazed along his heart line. “You guys were just fooling around?” You quirked, eyes meeting his. His expression narrowed smugly as if urging you to continue. “Your heart line begins below your index finger. You’re not the fooling around type.” He let out a snort. “You fall in love easily too.”

He sighed with a slight sparkle in his eyes as he looked at you. You couldn’t tell if he was amazed or mocking you again. “Well, yeah. That’s…” He paused with a swallow, biting back a grin as if he was uncomfortable, but didn’t retract his hand from you. “... That’s why we’re not anymore,” he admitted. He leaned his elbows on the counter as you sat in your chair. “What else does it say?”

Your lips curled into a soft smirk, his curious eyes trailing over your face as if to watch your brain work. “You have a fire element hand which indicates that you’re confident and passionate. Maybe a bit cocky sometimes,” you teased, making him chuckle with you. You could feel his eyes on you, sending heat to your cheeks as you tried not to focus on the mount of Venus under your touch.

You wanted to ask him about his sexual indulgences, mainly because of the prevalence of Venus in his palm. “You have a mount in Jupiter, which means you’re a natural leader, and rather dominant.” You looked up at him again, watching as he bit back a smirk, seemingly understanding the subtle innuendos behind your statements.

George seemed to have some kind of effect on you, your thoughts clouding with the idea of what his snake bites would feel like against your lips. He smelled like cigarette smoke, but there was no discoloration to his skin to suggest he was the one smoking. He watched you through the hair threatening to dangle over his eyes, his gaze hinting at an attraction he had for you below his collected form. “Go on,” he murmured, voice soft and wispy as the space between the two of you seemed to warm.

You made a conscious effort to keep your sultry thoughts at bay as your thumb brushed over the area you had been avoiding telling him about. “You’re driven by desire,” you answered, voice barely above a whisper. “You’re… very in touch with your sexuality and you thrive on your indulgences.”

You couldn’t help but meet his eyes, the dark irises swimming with some kind of cocky smugness at what you had just told him. He pulled away from you, gently standing up. Part of you wished the counter between the two of you would vanish just so you could be pressed up against George at the mercy of his driven mind. “I feel it's only fair I tattoo you now,” he quipped, making your eyebrows raise. Your confidence shriveled yet you swore you wouldn’t let him know that fact.

You chewed on your lip, looking up at him with a hint of suspicion. “Oh, I’ve never been tattooed,” you avowed, voice carrying the slightest bit of your coaxing nature.

He smirked. “I’ll take care of you, I promise,” he cajoled, teeth playing at his piercings again as you were sure he was already undressing you with his eyes. “You read me, I’d like to do the same.”

And how could you refuse such an appealing offer?

You leaned back on your elbows, your skin sticking to the leather chair beneath you as you watched him pull back his hair, elastic band dangling from his white teeth. Despite securing back his locks, bits of his bangs still hung over his forehead. You liked the interior of his parlor, maybe because it was only the two of you.

George began to fill small caps of dark ink. “I think you should get some crystals in here,” you teased, making him smirk. “I could hook you up.”

“What, like a salt lamp?” He joked, pulling on a pair of dark plastic gloves.

You snorted, lying back and looking up at the ceiling. “It might be good. Lighten the place up a bit.” George swiveled his chair closer to you muttering some kind of line about only getting them from you, but his words fell silent on your ears as his hand pushed up your shirt. You were silently thanking whatever divine force above for swaying you towards slinkier lingerie earlier that morning.

You knew he could see the lacy edges of your bra by the way his eyes nonchalantly flashed up to you before laying out his template on your ribs. You could feel hints of his warm breath against your skin as he studied it. “You can look at it if you want,” he stated.

You shook your head, wanting him close to you as long as he could be. “I trust you,” you muttered, your eyes meeting his again. His tongue pressed against his cheek as he struggled not to smile at your statement. He had promised to cover a small scar for you and by the way he explained it, you were ready to be in his hands. You wet your lips as he adjusted the speed on his tattoo gun. “Will this hurt?” You asked, tucking one of your arms behind your head.

The look of unadulterated lust that he gave you made your toes want to curl. “Probably a bit. It feels good sometimes, though,” he answered. He came closer to you, resting his forearm on your stomach to angle himself in the right position. At the feeling of his skin pressed against yours, you swore your body was on fire. It took everything in your power not to moan. It could have been the adrenaline pulsing through your veins, but his soft breath and the anticipation of the needle made you feel like a junky. “I’ll be gentle, darling,” he leered, his accent muddy and low. He let the needles drag against your skin and you bit your lip, trying not to hiss at the pain. His eyes met yours. “See, not bad.”

You let out a breathy wheeze. “Shut up, you sadist,” you quipped, his chuckle coming out rather roguish as he focused on the work in front of him. Your nerves were more focused on the way George’s hands were barely caressing your body as if teasing and hinting at what he could do to you.

You drew in a sharp breath as he hit a particularly sensitive spot. “Shhh shh. It’ll be over soon,” he cooed, his voice sending goosebumps spreading across your body as his lips tugged into a light smirk. By your palm reading, you knew he was enjoying having this much control over you.

Part of you found it almost torture when George would look at you with soft and lusty eyes for merely a second before his gaze jutted back down to his work, murmuring soft praises about how well you were taking the pain. You would go under the needle anytime he asked, just to receive the sultry treatment he gave.

He was so close, you could have driven your fingers into his dark hair if you wanted. “How did you get this scar?” He asked, cleaning off some of the ink before continuing.

“A knife fight,” you answered without missing a beat, making him scoff. “Actually, I fell into my grandma’s glass table one time. My cousin was teaching me the Electric Slide,” you corrected, making him laugh, shaking his head slightly as he filled in a spot.

He let his tongue dart across his lips. “That’s so cute. Did you ever get it figured out?” To this you shook your head, the both of you laughing. You let out a groan as the needle dug into another area on your ribs, the sound making his eyes dart up to you. He leaned off of you, slipping one of his gloves off. “Wanna hold my hand, sweetheart?” He joked, but you took his offer, squeezing his hand in yours when it got painful enough. You held it close to your chest, hoping he would feel your heartbeat quicken each time he looked at you.

As he finished up his work, his thumb brushed against your hand absent-mindedly. You could tell by the way he gripped your hand as well that he enjoyed that the tattoo hurt you. Most of your mind was excited by how easily he was stirred up by you, while the rest was completely unsurprised and even threatened to bite out that he was a cliché.

When he was finally satisfied, he cleaned you up and stuck on a SecondSkin, biting back a grin at his work as he pulled you up by the hand he was holding onto you with. You couldn’t help but smile at how excited you were to see, swinging your legs over the side of his hair and walking towards his mirror. You held your shirt up, chewing on your bottom lip as you grinned at the ink. George rested a hand beside the mirror, watching you beam at his work.

All of his lines were flawless, your scar completely disappearing within his shading. You’d pitched the idea of an ode to the Creation of Adam. While it was cliche, what better to fit in the space below your breast and give George the impression that you were cultured. Yet you told him he could do whatever he wanted to it, resulting in one of the hands resembling a skeleton and the other holding a sucker. As you praised him, he shrugged off your comments, murmuring about it being his pleasure. He reached out his free hand, letting his thumb smooth over one of the edges of this bandage, which brought you closer to him.

Your cheeks warmed at the close proximity to him as his eyes grazed over your body before meeting your own. His hand moved from the bandage to your back. You leaned on your toes, pressing your lips to his. The tension between the two of you dissipated as he hungrily reacted, pulling you against him and savoring your moans as his tongue slipped into your mouth.

George’s hands moved down your body, swiftly hooking around your thighs and wrapping your legs around his waist to bring you back to his chair. Your hands moved into his hair, letting it loose and wrapping the band around your wrist. The leather was cold as your back pressed to it. George leaned back to pull his shirt over his head, revealing more of the tree painting the expanses of his skin.

If you weren’t so eager to be touched by him, you’d be studying the work of art.

As his lips met yours again, you ground your hips against his, eliciting a moan to vibrate through his chest. You raked your nails down his back, trying to further draw out reactions from him as his hands attentively played with the lace of your bra, fingers ghosting over the skin pressing against the cups.

His lips left yours only to travel the length of your jaw and inch his way toward your waistband. Your pants were discarded with a swift tug from him before he pulled your thighs flush against his, grinding his hips against yours, hands gripping onto your sides to keep you in place. You tilted your head back, relishing in the friction as your body screamed to finally feel him take advantage of you.

You reached between the two of you, tugging at his zipper as your hunger for him escalated. His tongue flattened against your collarbone before his teeth pressed into your skin. You could feel his arousal through his jeans at the sound of your whimpering.

He pumped himself in his hand before pressing into you, the feeling of him inside of you making your head spin as if you were on some kind of ecstasy. Your moan came out needy and desperate as he thrust into you, gripping the edge of the leather seat as his breath hummed against your skin. Your fingers threaded into his hair, raking your nails down his neck as he groaned in your ear at the feeling.

One of his hands grasped your wrists together, pinning them above your head while the other wrapped around your throat. His eyes burned into yours as he leaned back, leaning his weight on your wrists and squeezing your throat, the lack of oxygen making each of your senses more heightened as he pounded into you.

Your moans of George’s name were grated as they slipped through your mouth, his relentless pace and intense hold nearly making you drool from the stimulation. By the practice of his actions, you wondered how long he had been stewing on demolishing you in this way.

He loosened his grip on your neck, leaning down to press his lips against yours, dragging his teeth along your bottom lip just to hear you groan from the rough action. You rolled your hips against his, letting him slow his pace to reach deeper within you. A sadistic grin spread across his face as he rubbed a thumb across your cheek, wiping away the makeup smudging around your eyes from his antics and the heat between the two of you.

He pressed his lips to your neck, wrapping his hand around the edge of the chair again to drive himself into you, the new angle muddling your mind and vision as your body ached to come undone. You sank your nails into his back, earning his low, raspy whispers of your name.

At his praises, you came, tugging on his hair as he bit into your shoulder again, basking in the feeling of you clenching around him.

The next day, George stretched his shoulders, peering through the front window of his shop. His mind sparked with the feeling of your legs around his waist and the softness of your skin beneath his fingertips. He could practically hear you whimpering his name in his ears as he went back to touching up a fading tattoo on his friend’s arm.

“OW, George,” Clay rumbled, thigh flinching at the jab from George.

George snorted, his mind still on the high he got from your pure trust in him as you laid out on his chair. “I’ll give you something to bitch about,” George grumbled, releasing just how gentle he was during your tattoo. The way your voice got soft and quiet when he rolled over a spot that was rather tender already would most definitely be a guilty pleasure of his.

Clay barked at him again as George jerked his hand, fulfilling his promise. “I’VE BEEN NICE TO YOU ALL MORNING.”

Tag List: (to be added, follow this link :))

@karlkitten @more-like-reyna @honk-izzie-was-taken @marrymetheonott @froggyy06 @savingpluto @marshmallow-babe @drunkpumpkincake @little-gremlin-in-the-walls @tinyegg @mintmochiii @clubfairy @aroyaldarknessblr @camerondiaz48104 @madsbbg @rat-poisin @alm334 @cdizzlevalntyne @phsychopathetic @froggerrrr @robinslie @jemalovesmarvel @sbi-is-my-onlysanity

[deepdarkdelights]

Run Little Red (Namjoon x Reader)

Pairing: Namjoon x Reader

Word Count: 7.8k

Warnings: 18+, Yandere, Werewolf Namjoon, Stalking, Obsession, Forced Relationships, Blood (Lots of it), Gore, Fear, Panic/Anxiety, Discussions of discovering dead bodies, People going missing, Devious Intentions, Depictions of Guns, Mourning, Wolf Courtship Rituals

I do not condone the acts displayed in this story nor do I believe any members of BTS would actually engage in this type of behavior. This is simply written for entertainment purposes and should not be taken as a reflection of my own values, opinions, or morals. 

<<Forbidden Fables Masterlist>>

Preview:  A calm life in a small village was all you ever knew, your days spent in the bakery and keeping to yourself. You liked the quiet and gentle nature of your life, but one day a wolf stands outside of your window, a stranger arrives, and people begin to go missing. Do you dare don your red coat and enter the forest?

A/N: Hello babes! My fellow authors and myself decided to change up the order of our release dates for our Forbidden Fables Collab! And, since I recently finished this little beauty, I get to release it first. yay! Now I can sit back and savor the delectable writings of my fellow authors 💜 I hope you enjoy Run Little Red it was fun to make! I can’t wait to read the comments and asks 💜

There was a wolf outside your window. 

It’s eyes gleaming in the early morning light like molten gold with silver fur that melted into the snow. 

You sat up in bed, wrapping your patchwork quilt around your shoulders as you scooted to the foot of the bed. It was staring at you, that much you were sure of. And that startled you, the almost human like appearance to its gaze was intense and unsettling. It was an animal, but it appeared to be far more intelligent than you had first anticipated. 

Maybe it was hungry, perhaps that was why it was so intent on peering through your window.

No, it certainly wasn’t, that was evident. What you had missed before was glaringly obvious now, its silver muzzle was stained in red. It had made a fresh kill before it had wandered over to your cottage mere feet from the woods. 

So, if it wasn’t hungry, why was it here?

You watched in morbid fascination as its tongue slipped out of its mouth and laved over the fresh, thick, crimson blood that decorated its muzzle. You could see the rows of sharp canines hidden within its maw for mere seconds before the wolf clenched its jaw shut and settled on its hindlegs in the drift of snow.

“My, what big teeth you have.” You whispered to yourself, your voice seemingly louder in the empty room.  

You couldn’t help but wonder what it had made it’s meal. Perhaps a deer, or a squirrel, maybe a bird, or even a small, innocent, little rabbit. 

That would have been ideal. But, you knew it was most likely one of the poor farmer’s livestock. Your village was small and self sufficient, rarely reaching out to its neighboring villages and rarely receiving visitors of its own. So, when the cattle and the goats began to disappear, only their entrails remaining, the town quickly became suspicious. 

It was either one of two things, rebellious teenagers making a hassle for everyone, or a wolf amongst you.   

If only you had known what was to come. 

You stared back warily out the window at the creature, suddenly realizing just how easily it could bust through your flimsy window if it wanted to. This wolf was probably the largest you had ever seen, it was almost the size of a pony, with long limbs that held thick muscle from the time it spent chasing down its prey. You were certain a simple snap of its jaws would kill you in an instant if it desired to do so. 

It’s gaze had not left you, petrifying you to your very spot. You felt like the two of you were playing a game, waiting to see who would be the one to make the first move. 

The call of your mother’s voice was the tie breaker. 

You rose to your feet, your bare skin brushing over the cool wood of the floor as you retreated through your door, back first. 

“Yes?” You replied, angling your neck to the hallway for a moment. 

“Hurry, sweetheart! You’re going to be late!” She called back from the kitchen. 

The bakery had been in your family for the past three generations now, starting with your grandfather, then your mother, and now you. Your mother was showing signs of her age now, her hands were unsteady and unreliable creating more of a mess than a sellable meal. So, it was your turn now. It was the only thing you could do for her, besides be married off and you weren’t quite ready for that. No one was. 

At least that was the gentle way of putting it, in reality you had made yourself quite the social pariah. You were a determined woman, one who liked to keep to herself, one who liked owning the bakery and not having to sign over the ownership to a husband. You had your mother to care for, a business to run, and a grandmother that lived deep in the woods to fret over. 

It didn’t really matter what you wanted, you did what was necessary to stay afloat. 

“Just a minute!” You called once more before slinking back into your room. 

There was a noticeable difference about the space now, the wolf was gone. The only sign he had ever been there being the large dip in the snow that his form had disrupted and a track of paw prints headed into the forest. How strange. 

You shook your head in an attempt to clear your thoughts, you didn’t want to think about what you would have to do if the creature returned. The shotgun looming over you from above the front door said enough.

You couldn’t allow a predator to get comfy around your home, that would only invite trouble into your life.

You dressed yourself quickly that morning in as many layers as you could. The walk to the bakery wasn’t a far one, but it was a frigid one. You made sure to wear your wool stockings and your leather boots, the snow looked to be thick and you didn’t fancy the idea of wet feet all day while you worked. 

You leaned over the side of your bed, scooping up your bag and throwing the keys inside of it in one motion. The extra sleep you had gotten the night before had cost you the time you needed in the morning to ready yourself. 

Once you gave yourself a quick look over and ran through your mental checklist, you rushed out of your room and into the main room of the house. Your house was more like a cottage, it was incredibly small. With only your mother’s room, your room, and the kitchen in one corner with the fireplace in the other it made for a quaint and cozy home. Albeit a cramped one. 

“Your breakfast is on the table.” Your mother said, smoothing a stray hair behind her ear with trembling hands. 

You could see her cleaning up the mess she had made that morning in an attempt to show you kindness. Normally, you were the one to wake early and prepare the both of you for the day ahead. But she had also told you many times before that she was your mother and she was supposed to take care of you as well. 

You eyed the bowl of steaming porridge that sat upon the rickety table. “I don’t think I’ll have the time to eat it.”

“Then you’ll make the time.” She huffed, wiping a wet rag over the counter in two swipes. 

“I shouldn’t have overslept.” You sighed, resting your bag on the floor as you took a seat. 

“You needed the rest, dear. You’re up every morning at the crack of dawn and you don’t come home until nightfall. You don’t need to work that much.” She chided you, smoothing her hands over your hair in a fond manner. 

“I do, for you and for Grandmother.” You reminded her. The cost of living was not cheap. 

“And what about you? You should be spending time with people your age, not working yourself to the bone.”

“I don’t need anyone but you, and Grandmother.” You smiled before sipping at your spoon quickly, hissing as you burned the tip of your tongue in your haste. 

“Youth is wasted on the young.” She chided under her breath, spurring a giggle from your throat. 

You finished your food as quickly as you could before excusing yourself from the table and heading for the door. 

“Your cloak, dear!” Your mother called as you pulled the door open, the chill of the snow seeping into your bones. 

“Yes, mother!” You chirped with an amused roll of your eyes as you curled your fingers around the crimson fabric of the cloak. Your grandmother had made it herself two winters ago, as much as you loved it and her you had to admit it was a tad ostentatious and you weren’t exactly one for attention. But it was warm and it served its purpose well. 

The door creaked shut behind you, squeaking softly as it settled back into the frame. The snow had fallen much higher than you had previously anticipated. You tightened the ties of your cloak and delicately flipped the large hood over your head before gripping your layers of skirts and hiking them up as you began your journey. 

It was rather slippery that day, you couldn’t restrain the slight squeals that fell from your parted lips each time the heel of your boot found a patch of ice and sent you sliding. You were certain you should have caught the attention of a few passerbys, but to your surprise a large group of them had become preoccupied. 

There were about fourteen of them, all in one great circle fervently discussing something. They seemed to be worried, panicked even. It had caught your attention now that the group was made up mostly of men excluding the butcher’s wife and daughter. Both’s cheeks were stained red, their eyes brimming with unshed tears as they held onto each other tight in the crisp air. 

Your face tensed in confusion as you approached the bakery, the group not too far away from you. 

“Oh, poor Sarah.” A tender voice cooed worriedly from next door. It was the tailor, she and her apprentice were stood outside, thick shawls wrapped around the both of them. 

You occupied yourself by rifling through your leather satchel, pretending to look for the shop keys you held in that very hand. You knew that eavesdropping wasn’t very polite, but you also were the curious sort, and that curiosity demanded to be satiated. 

“Don’t worry, miss. I’m sure they’ll find him soon, you know how the young ones are.” The apprentice said, her hand resting on the tailor’s shoulder in a gesture of comfort. 

“It’s not like William though, he’s a sweet boy. It doesn’t make any sense for him to go up and missing at the crack of dawn.” She replied, her dark eyes narrowing in suspicion. “I just find it funny is all, that a stranger shows up here the same day that Sarah’s boy disappears.”

“Coincidence isn’t evidence.” The apprentice hummed, pulling her shawl tighter around herself  as she began to back up against the shop door, aggravated by the chilly air. “I’m sure he’ll turn up, with a search party that size he’ll be back home in no time.”

With that, you finally retrieved your “missing” keys and unlocked the door, sliding into the safety of the bakery. You knew William as well, he really was a sweet kid...to most. Your heart did go out to Sarah though, you didn’t know the pain of a missing child but you could empathize. The sight of her broken face remained burned into your mind as you readied the shop, lighting the hearth and preparing your materials to start your first batch of bread for the day. Your late start was going to nip you in the behind, most of the women arrived by noon to get their first pick of goods and the two hours it would take to make your batches was going to loom over your head the entire time. 

You were mid kneading your dough when the familiar tinkle of the bell above the shop door demanded your attention. You paused for a moment, your aching arms thanking you for the short reprieve. Almost immediately your breath was caught in your throat. You had been expecting one of the regular mothers wandering their way in, or perhaps even one of their children running errands. Not this man that stood before you. 

This was most obviously the stranger the tailor had been referring to moments earlier, there was no mistake. Your village was small, everyone knew everyone and this stranger looked nothing like any of the people in your town. 

He was so much taller than anybody else, broader too. But most astonishing was his pure silver hair and the deep honey shade of his eyes. You had never seen anyone as young as him with hair that light, it surely wasn’t grey, the shade far too bright to be mistaken with something that dull. He was damn near ethereal and unfairly attractive. His looks had almost distracted you from his attire but now that you were paying attention, he was severely underdressed for the weather. He had to be freezing cold. 

“Hello, can I help you?” You asked softly, patting your hands against your apron to remove the excess flour from your skin. 

He had a rather confident stance, like he was the owner of the shop instead of you, you who was slightly cowering and thrumming with anxiety. 

He sent you a wide grin, his teeth were pearly white and for some unknown reason that sent your heart crashing into your stomach. You could have sworn they even looked slightly pointy at the ends, not unlike those of the creature you had seen outside your window that morning. You had almost been distracted by the sweet dimples that rested in his cheeks. What duality he had. 

He tilted his head back slightly, peering down at you from above, “Hm, I’m looking for something sweet.” He hummed. 

“Sweet?” You mumbled to yourself, resting your hand on your hip in thought.

“Oh! I made some sweet rolls yesterday, how about that?” You said with a snap of your fingers, retreating further into the shop without a response from him. 

Now in work mode you busied yourself with preparing the stranger’s order. You couldn’t help but wonder why he had arrived, what his reason for being there was. Barely anybody passed through your village, and they certainly didn’t stay as long as he had. 

Once you had retrieved the tray of rolls you set them on the counter before grabbing a pot of freshly warmed icing and gently drizzling it over top. Once each roll had been thoroughly coated, you set the pot aside and headed to the cupboard to retrieve a bag for them.  

“Perfect.” You sighed in irritation, craning your neck back to see the top of the shelf. 

Normally, you had endless amounts of bags and never needed the ones stored on the top shelf. But this winter had been far more difficult than past ones and your stock had not been refilled in quite a while. 

Desperately not wanting to search for your wooden stool, you stubbornly resorted to balancing on the tips of your toes, your fingers just barely brushing against the material of the bags. You groaned in frustration, bouncing up slightly only to knock the bags back further on the shelf and worsen the ache in your shoulder. 

Just as you were about to give up and resort to looking for your rickety stool, you felt a hand settle on your waist and a chest press against your back as the stranger reached up and grabbed the bags for you. He was incredibly warm, so warm you thought he may even be sick. He felt as warm as the heat emanating from a fire of fresh coals and that was incredibly alarming, but also explained his state of dress.

You flinched in surprise as you felt him set the bags aside and settle his other hand on your shoulder. It was deathly quiet, the only sounds being his slow, steady breaths underlying your panicked ones accompanied by the calm rise and fall of his chest against your back. You had never been this close to anyone before, it was incredibly uncomfortable. 

You felt much like a rabbit, cornered, panicking, and believing that if you stayed still enough he wouldn’t see you and would go away. 

He gently rested his forehead against your hair, nuzzling from side to side before reaching up and playing with a stray strand. You could feel him taking a deeper breath this time, humming softly like he was pleased. 

“Sweet.” He mumbled to himself. 

Oh. Oh, no. Who did this man think he was? You were not on the menu. You shuddered in fear before jerking away, smacking his hands off of you. 

You turned on your heel, backing away from him as you fixed him with an annoyed glare. The look he gave you was one of clear confusion, a layer of hurt and frustration buried beneath. 

“I’m not sure how things work where you come from, but normally you ask for permission before you go touching someone you don’t know.” You huffed, slamming the empty bag on the counter as you began to package the rolls. 

It didn’t matter if he was attractive or not, you were not going to let him touch you as he pleased or get the wrong message that you weren’t even conveying in the first place. 

The stranger rounded the counter, the block of wood effectively separating the two of you, making you feel a little safer. His eyes looked darker than before, less like honey and more like amber. 

His confident demeanor had returned, effectively confusing you even more. 

“Forgive me,” He said, another smile gracing his lips as he rested his forearms on the countertop, “It seems we’ve gotten off on the wrong foot? My name is Namjoon, and yours?” 

So, he did have the capability to be somewhat of a gentleman. He was rather well spoken, and his strange mannerisms and quiet demeanor had all but disappeared in a flash. 

So, begrudgingly, you replied with your name. 

He repeated it after you, his tongue swiping over the full flesh of his lower lip like he was tasting it, sending a chill down your spine. 

“I’m sorry if I gave you the wrong impression, you were correct in assuming where I come from we do greetings a little differently.” He said with a soft chuckle, his amber eyes tracing every movement you made. 

You did feel a little bad now for how you had lashed out at him. Normally, you weren’t one who was quick to anger, but that still didn’t excuse what he had done. 

“It’s alright,” You said, slowly, “You need to be more careful though, if that had been anyone else I don’t think you would have gone unscathed.” 

“Are most of your people so quick to violence?” He asked, titling his head slowly, a strong sense of intrigue exuding from his form. 

“I wouldn’t say so normally, but we’re all a little on edge as of late. Our livestock has been attacked and just this morning one of us went missing.”

“Missing?” He asked, a new glow to eyes. 

“Yes, I’m afraid so. The butcher’s son hasn’t been seen all day, it’s very unlike him.” You said, your teeth sinking into your lower lip, unsure if you should tell him more. But, considering it concerned him you felt maybe it was in his best interest to tell him. 

“If I were you, I wouldn’t stick around for too long. Some find it suspicious you turned up the same day that William went missing.” 

“And what if I don’t feel like leaving just yet?” He asked, disregarding the information you had just given him as if he had no reason to be worried. 

You had no answer for him, truly you didn’t. The packaged rolls sat between the two of you and a long stretch of silence as he stared at you and waited for a response that didn’t come. And, without another word, he dropped a few too many coins on the counter, gathered up the bag, and headed for the front door. 

He stopped for only a moment, his fingers gently stroking at your red cloak you had hung up beside the door. His amber gaze trailed over each stitch as he lightly grazed the material a few more times. 

“I’ll be seeing you soon, little red.” 

~~~~~~~

After he had left, your day had not gotten any easier. Just as you had expected, it had been another busy day. You had managed to satisfy all of your customers, despite that late start you had made. 

There were a few upsides to the job you had, one being that it allowed you to tune into any gossip you would normally miss out on. You were more of a hit with the older women of the village, the people your age finding you to be a tad strange and off putting. 

That day your shop had been filled with hushed whispers of what had come to pass, the search party still had not returned from their trip to recover William. The outlook was not in the boy’s favor, not with the increase in predator activity you had been receiving as of late. You weren’t so sure you would be seeing William walking back into town any time soon. 

Once the day had come to an end, the sun dipping just below the tree line and casting shades of red over the snow, you had extinguished the lights of your shop and were locking up, your hood drawn over your head. That was when you found out the horrible truth. 

As you slid the shop keys into your bag and turned on your heel, you saw the search party emerging from the woods. And with them, you could see a blanketed form lying in the snow, the sheet swaddling the body slowing turning red. 

You swallowed harshly, turning as quickly as you could and beginning to make your way through the snow and away from what you knew was coming. You didn’t want to see the look on Sarah’s face, you didn’t want to watch her go boneless in the arms of her husband. But it didn’t matter what you saw or didn’t see, you would never forget the sound of her screams piercing the crisp, snowy air.

Your breath was visible in hot puffs in front of your face as you felt the burn of tears beginning to prick at the corners of your eyes. It didn’t matter if you didn’t care for William, it didn’t matter if you knew what he was really like, there was nothing quite like the sound of a mother’s heartbreak. It was enough to send anybody down to their knees. 

Your numb fingers wiped away the warm tears rushing down your cheeks, and amidst your blurry vision you could have sworn you saw a familiar figure slinking off into the woods, a flash of silver hair that just barely materialized. You could have sworn that that was Namjoon disappearing like a ghost into the frigid depths of the forest. 

You shook your head, you shouldn’t bother yourself with what he was doing, your main goal should be getting home before the sun completely dips below the horizon and plunges you into darkness. So, with that thought, you rushed home. 

Once you entered the cottage, things didn’t get any better. Your mother was stood there, waiting anxiously for your arrival. As soon as you had stepped foot inside she whipped the door shut and helped you remove your cloak as you toed your boots off. 

“No more working late, do you hear me?” She said, gripping your shoulders to get you to look at her. “It’s not safe out there.”

“Word travels fast then?” You asked humorlessly. 

“It’s a shame what happened to that boy, and I’ll be damned if that happens to you.” She replied sternly. 

“And what about Grandmother then? What do we do about her? She’s out there, all alone, with no one to protect her.”

“She has the lumberjack-”

“And he only checks on her every two weeks.” You interrupted, “Let me go out tomorrow and bring her back to us. I’ll go first thing in the morning.”

Your mother bit her lip, her hands shakily settling on her hips as she thought to herself. “I’ll go with you then.”

“No, you can’t possibly think you’ll be able to make the trip. The snow is thick and it’s a long walk there, you’ll exhaust yourself. It’ll be better if I go, faster too.” You said as you approached the fireplace, raising your hands to the flames to warm them. 

“And your grandmother, you think she’ll be able to make it back through the snow?” She probed, raising her eyebrow. 

She had a point, if you were saying she wouldn’t be able to make it there how would you expect your grandmother to make it back with you? 

You rested your hand on the back of your neck, pacing the floor and causing your layers of skirts to swirl around your ankles. You came to a sudden stop, your eyes settling on the shotgun that was mounted above your front door. Idea.

You didn’t like the thought of her being out there all alone, but if you knew she had something to protect her from the wild animals that would make you feel much better. 

“Alright, what if I bring her some supplies instead? I’ll grab some things that’ll last her a good while and I’ll show her how to use the shotgun. I’ve saved up some money of my own, I could purchase us a new one.” You mused out loud.

You loved your grandmother, she was the last living member of your father’s side of the family, she was the only connection you had to him at this point. You couldn’t bear the thought of losing her just yet, not when you could prevent it from those creatures that were beginning to terrorize your people. 

Your mother was silent once more, her thumb settled between her lips as she nervously chewed at the nail. She didn’t like the idea of you headed out into the woods alone, but she was comforted by the thought of you taking the shotgun with you, that much you were certain of. 

“We don’t know when the next storm will hit, and the last thing we need is for her to be stuck out there, all alone, with no food, surrounded by the wild. Let me go.”

And that was enough to break her resilience. 

“Promise me, promise me that you’ll come back.” She whispered, her body visibly sagging as those words left her lips. 

“It goes without saying.” You murmured, wrapping her up in your embrace. 

It was easier this way, you didn’t want to make a promise you had no certainty in keeping. 

The air in the cottage had lost all tension, everything was much calmer than before. But your peace could only last for so long. It was when you entered your bedroom that you realized something else was wrong.

The room was positively frigid, and upon further inspection you realized that your window had been pried open, the cold winter air surging forth and snuffing out any traces of heat. 

You surged forward and grasped the window, attempting to swing it shut as quickly as you could to try and insulate whatever warmth was left. But the thick scent of copper quickly stalled your movements. Instead of closing the window, you found yourself leaning forward into the brisk air, sniffing intently as you tried to make out where the scent was emanating from. You didn’t have to look far.

Your hands sealed themselves over your mouth, smothering the scream that threatened to break through them. 

Sitting in the snow where the wolf had once laid, was a human heart. The snow seemed to sizzle around it, the organ still warm and slick with blood that carved rivers and valleys into the pure ice. 

You could feel bile rising up your throat, your vision shaking so violently it made it appear that the heart was vibrating with steady pumps like it was still alive. 

And, to your horror, you could make out a form a few feet back in the snow. The only thing that was visible in the pitch black were it’s molten gold eyes, shining back at you in recognition before it scuttled away into the darkness.

You frantically slammed the window shut and drew the curtains closed tight. 

There was no mistake now, someone or something had been following you. 

~~~~~~~

When you awoke the next morning from a restless sleep, you elected to keep your discovery to yourself.

Although you were incredibly frightened by what you had seen, the last thing you needed was to scare your already frail mother. Your grandmother was still in need of assistance, and you couldn’t allow your mother to halt your plans. You had a mission to accomplish, and you were set on completing it with a shotgun slung over your arm and a picnic basket on the other. 

So, you shakily grasped your red cloak and wrapped it around your shoulders in haste, your fingers struggling to do up the ties at the base of your throat. Once you had completed the normally easy task, you slipped your basket onto the inside of your elbow and pulled down the shotgun from its resting place above the door. 

You regularly cleaned it, a task your father had enjoyed teaching you at a young age, so you were certain it wouldn’t jam if you needed to use it in a hurry. You slid a box of ammunition into your pocket, one for you, and another box into the picnic basket, one for your grandmother. 

And then you were off, bidding your mother goodbye with a hug and a swift kiss to her cheek, and an unspoken promise tittering on the edges of your lips saying that you would be home for supper. But those words were better left unspoken. 

The sun was just barely peeking through the thick clouds overhead, you were certain a blizzard was brewing. This only urged you to move quicker through the cleared paths. 

But the clouds weren’t the only foreboding message that morning, it was the mother’s wailing in the town square. There were three more now, holding each other in a comforting manner as they wept into each other’s shoulders. 

More children had been snatched from their mothers.

Sarah sat by herself, of her own volition, an obsidian mourning veil obscuring her tear stained features. A chill ran down your back as you urged yourself to walk by them quicker, she looked more like an executioner than she did a mourner, surrounded by a choir of weeping women. 

You could still hear the echoes of her cries in the back of your mind, the raw chords striking your ears once more. 

You tightened your grip on the strap of your shotgun, your pace slowing as you reached the bridge that led you into the forest. You felt like you could breathe now, despite the knowledge that people your own age had lost their lives in the thick overgrowth before you. The relief that you felt from the women in the square outweighed your fear.

The bridge creaked in protest as your boots tapped against the wood. It would need to be repaired come spring. 

“Little red!” A voice called from the treeline causing you to suddenly stop, snow kicking up beneath your boots. 

Moments later, a familiar figure emerged from the frost coated trees, tall, ash hair, and honey eyes. Namjoon. 

“Where are you off to, little red?” He cooed, his voice low with a sultry edge that sent shivers down your spine. You couldn’t tell if they were delighted or terrified chills. 

“My grandmother’s, what are you doing here?” You asked, your body tense and defensive. 

He drew nearer now, a wide grin gracing his lips with a set of teeth so white they resembled the snow beneath your boots. The closer he got the more you noticed about him. His perfect white teeth seemed a little sharper than most, and the clothes he wore were once more, not suited for the frigid weather. 

“I caught sight of this old thing,” He hummed, his finger tracing over your cloak and the strap of your shotgun as he slowly circled you, “And couldn’t help but see you.”

You stepped back hesitantly, his presence was unnerving. Without saying anything more you pulled away from his reach and began to walk by him briskly, headed into the woods. 

“Leaving so soon? We only just met.” He laughed, it would have been a nice contagious laughter had you not heard the bitter edge to it. 

“I’m afraid I don’t have the time to dawdle, Namjoon. I need to reach her before the storm hits.”

“Well then, won’t you let me accompany you?”

“I don’t need an escort, I know my way just fine, thank you very much.” 

“And what about the beasts then?” He asked from beside you, sending you halting to a stop. 

“Beasts?” You asked slowly, gazing up at him from beneath the cover of your hood. 

“Well, surely you know?” He asked in a patronizing tone, his honey eyes narrowing. “Four people from your village have gone missing, red. Surely you know that wasn’t an accident. Great beasts have roamed this forest for centuries and they don’t take kindly to intruders. It would be much safer if I came with you.”

You stood there for a moment in silence, contemplating his words. He was not wrong, two people were much safer than just one. 

So, begrudgingly, you accepted his offer. 

His hand quickly captured your own, his fingers intertwining with yours as he pressed his side tightly to your own with a grin. How bold. You were struck once more by the fact that he was incredibly warm, it was no wonder why he wasn’t bundled up like you were. It felt like he had struck a fever. 

Namjoon filled the silence between the two of you surprisingly well, telling you stories of the great beasts that roamed the woods, effectively scaring you and holding your attention. He had a way of speaking that drew people in, like a siren from the stories your father had read to you. 

It was easy to forget with him, easy to forget why you had been frightened in the first place, easy to sink into his side as his warmth seeped into your flesh, and easy to get lost in his voice. 

That was of course, until you felt him pulling you off of the path. 

You dug your heels into the snow, tugging at his hand violently. “Namjoon!”

“Yes?” He asked.

“What are you doing? Her cottage is this way, we stay on the path, we never leave the path.” You said, gesturing towards the dirt pathway beneath the two of you. 

That was a spoken rule in your village, never go off of the path. 

“That’s ridiculous,” He chuckled, “If we continue the way you were going, that doubles the time it takes to get there, it’s better we take the shortcut.”

“No.” You sternly said. 

“And why not?”

“Because, there’s predators out there! Mountain lions, bears, wolves!”

A mischievous smirk pulled at the corners of his lips, “Are you scared of wolves, little red?”

“I’m scared of anything that wants to eat me.” You replied with a dry tone. 

“Well you do smell very sweet-”

“Namjoon!”

He took a deep breath, his eyes darting between you and the shortcut. “I promise you, nothing will hurt you while I’m here. Besides, did you know some flowers bloom in the winter?”

“What? You can’t be serious.”

“I am, there’s a field of flowers this way, all different breeds that bloom in the dead of winter. Don’t you think your grandmother would enjoy those?” 

You chewed at your lip uneasily. He knew exactly what to say to make you question your own actions. You would be lying if you said you didn’t want to see what he was talking about, and you knew that yes, your grandmother would be elated by something so cheery in the bleak winter months. 

So, after a few moments of consideration, you agreed.

And Namjoon had not been lying. After a few minutes of trekking through the deep snow the two of you emerged into a clearing, and just like he said, it was filled with flowers of all different breeds. 

You found yourself crouching down into the field, your fingers trailing over each velvety petal that had somehow found a way to survive in the clutches of an icy death. Your favorites were the deep red roses. They were a dead match for your cloak, a beautiful color that was delicately dusted with soft flakes of snow. 

You couldn’t help but greedily pluck several blossoms from the foliage, slipping them into your basket. 

And, amidst your excitement, you hadn’t noticed just how close your companion had gotten until you felt him. That incredible warmth had returned as he crouched down behind you, and just like he had in the bakery, you felt him lightly nuzzling your head and breathing in your scent as he pressed himself closer to you, his arms winding around your body in an attempt to pull you even tighter to him. 

You froze, your finger mid pull on the rose’s stem causing you to slice the appendage on a stray thorn. You hissed in pain as you watched the blood drip from the tip of your finger before rolling down your wrist and carving a pool into the snow beneath you. 

And, without a thought, Namjoon’s hand encircled your wrist and yanked it up to his face. 

His once honey eyes appeared brighter than before, his long lashes fluttering as his warm breath misted over your skin. And before you could stop him, he licked a line up your wrist, collecting the blood, and pressed your finger to his lips swiping his tongue over the wound. 

You yelped in surprise, wrenching your hand free from his grip as your heart pounded violently. You rose to your feet and stumbled backwards through the snow. 

Namjoon remained where he was crouched, a sudden hunger evident in his honey gaze, a gaze that was not so unfamiliar. 

“We-we need to go!” You stuttered, turning on your heel and retreating from whatever had just happened. 

You held your hand close to your chest as you walked, frightened by what had just transpired. A part of you suddenly wished you had made your journey alone as you had previously intended.

But the harsh crunch of snow behind you reminded you of the choice you made, and the molten glare digging into your back exemplified it. 

~~~~~~~

The rest of your journey was made in complete silence, a new tension had settled between the two of you. And, true to Namjoon’s word, the way he had taken you was indeed a shortcut. So, you felt no remorse as you sprinted toward the cottage ahead of you and threw a weak thank you over your shoulder. 

You couldn’t stand the awkward tension anymore, you couldn’t stand being in his presence any longer than you needed to. 

As soon as you approached the front door, you threw it open and let it shut behind you. You leaned against the door for a moment to catch your breath before you shrugged the shotgun off of your shoulder and strung it up on the hook beside the front door. 

“Grandmother!” You called as you began to approach the kitchen door, “I’m here!”

And upon opening it, a blood curdling scream broke free from your lips. 

The sight before you could only be described as a massacre. Your hands desperately tried to cover your eyes, but the damage had already been done. There was blood, so much blood amongst other things laid out atop the counter. 

You fell backwards, your body sliding down the wall as hoarse screams raked through your throat. The unmistakable scent of blood was thick in the kitchen sending your stomach churning in your gut. You knew that scent, it was clear as day whatever had remained in that room had once been human. 

“Sweetheart?” A familiar voice called out to you. 

And upon opening your eyes, you saw your grandmother standing before you. The sudden feeling of elation surging through your body at the sight of her alive quickly died out. She wore a leather apron stained with blood, both fresh and old, and her hands were gloved. You quickly stood and began to back away from her, your sense of self preservation suddenly kicking in, your eyes zeroing in on the meat cleaver she held in her left hand. 

“Sweetheart, calm down.” She whispered softly, carefully setting the blade down on the counter beside the gorey mess. 

Your eyes were darting everywhere but her, panicked breaths leaving your parted lips. Your gaze finally settled in the corner of the room where a pile of clothing sat and a familiar axe. The lumberjack, she had murdered the lumberjack. 

“Why?” You cried, trembling as if you had been drenched to the bone. “Why did you do it?!” 

“I had too sweetie, I have to feed them.”

“Them? Who?” You asked, backing out of the kitchen as she followed your trail, her face soft with sympathy despite the flecks of blood that decorated her cheeks. 

“The wolves, of course. I made a deal with them long ago, if I fed them in the winter I could stay here.” She replied, her voice alarmingly calm. “The lumberjack was a sweet man but this winter was a rough one, not many travelers I’m afraid.”

“You’ve gone mad.” You whispered. 

“I know this is a lot to take in, but it’s best if you listen to me darling. Your grandfather was one of them, he courted me and then we had your father and your uncles. It’s always tricky with litters, you never know who is going to take after who. Your father though, he was the most human out of all of them. Poor thing couldn’t even shift.” She sighed, her eyes glazing over.

“You need help, you’re not well.” You tried again, doing your best to keep distance between the two of you.

“I know you’re a bit shaken up, but you need to listen to me, it’s in your best interest.” She sighed, untying the leather apron from around her waist. 

“That cloak you’re wearing, it’s a symbol that you’ve come of age and Namjoon has had every intention of courting you. He’s been rather obvious really, he’s becoming quite frustrated with you.” 

You suddenly became still, your mind flashing through every time Namjoon had ever touched the very item you were wearing. What she was saying, although deluded, had some semblance of truth. 

“I-I have to go.” You mumbled, your throat tightening from the copper scent and smell of flesh that hung heavily in the air. You needed to get home and far away from her before she killed you too. 

A deep sadness spread over her features as her head hung low, shaking from side to side. “Don’t run,” She breathed, “They find the chase seductive.”

All this time you had been slowly backing away from the person you loved the most, and now you had been stopped by the feeling of a solid form behind you. You quickly spun around, a shriek of horror escaping you as you met the bright, gold eyes of your escort, Namjoon. 

And, without thinking, you ran. 

Your cloak was fluttering behind you rapidly in the harsh, cold winds, the snow coming down thicker than it ever had before. And, to your absolute horror, a loud howl was echoing throughout the trees. 

You peered over your shoulder as you sprinted to the best of your ability through the snow drifts. The wolf that had sat outside your window days before had returned and was chasing you down. Now that there was nothing separating you from the creature you were terrified, it was massive and hunting you down. It had the clear advantage, you were inevitably going to die. You were never going home again, another child was going to be ripped from their mother. 

Tears were pouring down your cheeks like waterfalls as you blindly ran, unsure as to where you were going. You knew that you didn’t have time, four legs were faster than two and you were greatly impaired by the weather. 

With no goal in mind, no destination in sight, you ran in hopes you would be able to live for a little longer. You did your best to weave between the trees, slide down hills of snow, and keep running for your life. Your lungs burned and your legs ached but still you ran, even as you heard the loud steps of the wolf coming nearer and nearer.

And, just as you had lost all hope, an outcropping of rocks became visible at the base of a snowy hill. And with every intention to save your life, you recklessly threw yourself down the hill allowing gravity to take over for you. 

The second you felt yourself cease rolling, you rose to your unsteady legs and dizzily stumbled into the cluster of rocks, pulling yourself into the shelter away from the blizzard.

But your hope was fleeting as you came to a realization. The shelter was a den, one that had clearly been in use. It was littered with furs, blankets, books, and materials for a fire. The creature had been corralling you to this very location. 

You turned as another burst of adrenaline shot through your body only to be stunted by the sight of the silver wolf blocking the exit to the den. 

It’s bright eyes stared back at you with a gleam of satisfaction as it crouched down, shimming it’s way into the den and backing you up further into its depths. 

You watched, horrified, as the wolf began to whimper, it’s body shaking violently as the sound of bones beginning to snap and crunch echoed throughout the space, reforming and distorting themselves into vaguely familiar shapes as it’s fur began to melt away. 

Those bright golden eyes faded to a recognizable honey shade, and the silver fur disappeared and showed itself as ashen hair. On the floor of the den sat Namjoon in the place of where the powerful wolf had once stood. 

He carefully rolled his head from side to side, his neck cracking loudly in response as he rose to his feet. A mischievous smirk pulled at his lips, a triumphant gleam to his eyes as he confidently approached your trembling form. 

A broken cry escaped from your throat as you felt him press his forehead to your own, lightly nuzzling his head against yours. His strange behavior now made sense, he had been courting you in a way that was unfamiliar to you, but natural to him. 

All of the people that had gone missing were male’s your age, he had been wiping out the competition. 

And the bloody organ he had left outside of your window, had been a horrific present. A show of his dominance and his twisted affection. 

You were crying uncontrollably now, everything you had experienced suddenly crashing down on you. You flinched in terror as you felt his fingers grip your jaw, his lips just brushing against your own and he hummed happily.

“You have nowhere left to run, little red.”