#im just thinking out loud feel free to chime in if you have experience with em

[bunnyb34r]

I wonder if arm crutches would help me fatigue and pain wise... like that's a step between cane and wheelchair kinda? Maybe that would help take some pressure off my spine and legs 🤔

[sgtjbbhasmyheart]

Drunk Texting Is(n’t) Bad for Your Health- Chapter Two

Series Summary: Talk about your unconventional meet-cute! Bucky receives a text by mistake requesting he prove he's not Reader's sister. The easy dialogue between Reader and Bucky sparks a natural friendship, but could it lead to more? Bucky still deems himself unworthy of any form of affection or love. Reader is hellbent to prove him wrong. With the help of some (meddling) friends along the way, Bucky may get his happily-ever-after after all.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word count: 2921

Warnings: bad language words, blink and you’ll miss the angst, just some fluff

A/N: divider credit- @firefly-graphics

DO NOT copy or replicate without my permission

You awoke with a start, feeling as if you were late for work or something important and forgot to set your alarm. Your heart beat an erratic tattoo against your ribcage. Scrambling for your cell phone, you blindly reached across the side table near your bed in a panic. Unplugging the phone, you brought the device an ungodly closeness to your face. It was only 6:17. On Saturday.

Your pulse throbbed behind your eyeballs, and a strange stickiness coated the inside of your mouth. Did you drink that much last night?

How could you not? Timmons was a fair boss, and you enjoyed your job, but that dude loved the sound of his own voice.

The quarterly business dinners were mandatory for all employees, even for the P.A.s. Typically, they weren’t so bad, but last night, Timmons felt the need to toot his own horn for landing a massive contract with Stark Industries slash The Avengers. He went on and on about how great it was for the firm.

He was like a giant kid in a candy store with his ramblings. ‘We will be promoting the face of The Avengers and everything that goes with it,’ he spouted off like the firm was god’s gift to public relations.

You groaned at the reminder of last night’s presentation. The contract wasn’t even in effect yet, and you were sick of the Earth’s Mightiest Heroes. Timmons could be a real buzz kill.

Rolling to your back, you brought your phone up to tap the screen to read the emails you received overnight. On display was a text from 11:04 by someone named James. It read: “Goodnight, (Y/N).”

Your mind went back to last night again, trying to recall who this James was. He must be significant if you plugged his contact information into your phone already. Had you met someone last night?

Drawing a blank, you clicked on the text bubble to pull up the thread. Briefly scanning through the numerous texts, everything came rushing back. In an attempt to text your sister, Robyn, you mistakenly texted this mysterious, James.

You felt like an utter buffoon when you learned he wasn’t Robyn. You always did have a way with the cute boys. Probably why you were single. You groaned out loud as you read on.

You im safely inside my apartment. Pretty sure no one followed me home

James Did you triple check the lock on the front door?

You yes dad yeesh

James There are a lot of bad people out there. Just want to make sure you’re safe.

You sounds like you watch the news too much but its sweet of u to care

James I know from experience.

You r u the bad guy or have u been the one mugged?

James Let’s just say I have friends that have dealt with the bad things of the world.

You right i almost forgot ur a military-trained assassin athlete mchottie

James Did you ever send your sister a text?

You shit thanks for reminding me i have such a crazy story to tell her

James Only good things, I hope.

You oh yeah all the good things an enigmatic yet handsome stranger cares more about my safety than any of my ex-boyfriends ever did.

James My ma raised me right.

You id say

James_ I hate to cut this short, but I think you need your rest. Especially if you’re meeting your sister tomorrow._

You i dont want to agree but ur probably right

You whats ur name btw?

James My name? Why? Do you plan to continue texting me after tonight?

You duh ur fun to talk to

James Oh.

You or not its cool if u dont want to

James It’s James.

You nice to meet u james im (y/n)

James Nice to meet you as well.

You my sister just texted me back and were still meeting at 9 i should go 

You goodnite james

James Goodnight, (Y/N).

Oh. My. God. Had you seriously drunk-flirted with a stranger and offered to keep texting him? You had no shame with a few drinks in you.

You brought a hand up to pinch the bridge of your nose and sighed loudly.

What did you know of this James? He had a New York area phone number. Check. He could have been a real dick about your mistake but wasn’t. Understanding. Check. He worried about you getting home safely in your inebriated state. Caring. Check. Not too forthcoming with the nine to five. Secretive. Check. His mouth looked so soft and plush, and his eyes were made to drown in. Gorgeous. Check.

A heat simmered beneath your skin as you recounted the shortlist you’d made. Were you lusting over someone you’d exchanged less than forty texts with? Had you somehow woken back up in high school?

Shaking your head to clear your thoughts, you stared at the screen displaying the message thread. Were you really considering this? You nodded your head to answer your own question. Where was the harm in a little shameless flirting? If worse came to worst, you could always block him.

With your mind made up, you began typing into your phone, constructing an apology.

You Good morning! First off, I want to apologize for the way I behaved over text last night.

You Though, I do like to imbibe in the occasional drink or two, I am, by no means, a lush.

You Please take everything I said with a grain of salt. Apparently, I get loose-lipped and cheeky with free wine. 😐

You Again, I’m sorry and understand if you wanted to cease our correspondence for my behavior.

You blew out a breath and tossed your phone aside. It was up to fate now and a stranger named James.

You laid in your bed for several minutes staring at the ceiling, contemplating between whether to send a ‘haha just kidding’ text and what the weather would be like, so you could forego shaving your legs in the shower today.

Your phone chimed during the pondering of hair removal, indicating a new text. You knew it was James proclaiming you a freak and to forget his number, but secretly, you hoped it was Robyn canceling today.

Seizing the phone from your mattress top, your heart’s beat increased with each second you went without looking at the screen. Finding the courage, you flipped the device over to read the message.

James Quite the formal apology, Ms. Professor.

You smiled at the text. It didn’t tell you to pound sand or eat shit. No, it was teasing and in jest. You sighed in relief.

You Cease our correspondence too much?

James No, no it was perfect if this was 1863, and you were breaking up with me via telegraph.

You Stop!

James Exactly! ‘Never speak to me again!’ Stop. ‘It’s not you, it’s me.’ Stop.

A belly laugh disrupted the tranquil air of your bedroom. You quickly thumbed out a reply once you caught your breath.

You You’re incorrigible.

James I’m glad to see you are using proper capitalization and punctuation this morning.

You Ha!

You When you are buzzed and/or tipsy, capitals and periods be damned. Like you’re so perfect when you’re drunk.

James We all have our flaws.

Was he implying he was a sloppy texter when drunk, too? You shrugged it off as him being cryptic again.

You What are you doing up so early on a Saturday? I didn’t wake you, did I?

You were suddenly stricken with guilt. You should have waited for a more reasonable hour to send out rapid-fire apology texts. Not at 6:36 in the morning. You didn’t want last night’s behavior hanging over you, though. Better to clear the air now than later. You could always ask for forgiveness again if you had disturbed his sleep.

James I had just gotten back from my run when I saw your texts. I have training this morning.

You Oh, right. For your hush-hush, super top secret mission/quidditch game.

You You ever gonna tell me what you really do?

James_ Maybe. Someday._

How far away was someday? Was he planning to text you until you both died or until he got bored? How did texting relationships even work?

You Or is it one of those situations where if you told me you’d have to kill me?

James 😈

You There you go again--being all mysterious.

James Keep ‘em guessing and coming back for more.

You Has that strategy worked well for you in the past?

James Got you to text me again this morning, didn’t it?

You scoffed at what he had suggested. He was correct, but your stubborn streak would deny everything.

You The only reason I texted you this morning was to apologize for acting like a drunken fool last night.

And to squash the curiosity burning in your veins. But he didn’t need to know that.

James Oh.

The reply caused you to furrow your brow and your stomach to drop. You regretted not adding more levity to your last text. Of course, it wasn’t the only reason you were drawn to him.

You I appreciate that the selfie you sent wasn’t a dick pic. And you genuinely seemed to care about me getting home safely. Thank you.

You And maybe- a teeny, tiny bit- is honestly interested in getting to know you better.

You waited on pins and needles for his text, watching the pulsing ellipsis on your screen. Was he just humoring you?

James Hook. Line. Sinker.

Reading his response generated a flush from your jaw to your hairline. You growled in embarrassment. You fell for the oldest trick in the book. He baited you for a compassionate answer, and you delivered beautifully. Hook, line, and sinker, indeed.

You You’re an ass. I take everything back.

James Don’t be mad. I wasn’t sure how it was going to go, but you played into my trap wonderfully.

James If it makes you feel any better, all kidding aside, I want to get to know you better too.

James I fell asleep with a smile on my face last night and woke up with one this morning.

James Because of you, (Y/N).

A flutter broke apart in your chest. You hadn’t time-traveled back to high school; no, this was junior high territory.

You You’re lucky you’re so damn charming, James.

James Doll, you have no idea.

The subway ride into Manhattan usually gave you the chance to get a little reading in since it took nearly fifty minutes from Queens. Not today, though. You spent the entirety of the train ride texting back and forth with James. It was mundane stuff, but you were getting a grasp of who James was as a person.

You Favorite color?

James Black. You?

You Blue.

You Favorite ice cream flavor?

James Chocolate. Yours?

You Ben & Jerry’s Cherry Garcia.

James I didn’t realize we were getting specific.

You We weren’t, but that’s my favorite.

You Favorite movie?

James I like the classics- The Wizard of Oz, It’s A Wonderful Life, Frankenstein.

You I have too many to list, so don’t ask.

You Okay. Lightning round because I’m almost to my stop.

James Where are you going again?

You paused your reply for a brief second, wondering if you should divulge your destination. You’d known James less than twenty-four hours; although, it felt like weeks after this morning. Where was the harm in telling him where you were meeting your sister? There were nearly nine million people in this city. There was no way you’d ever bump into each other.

You A bakery in the Upper East Side called Two Little Red Hens. Ever been?

James Don’t think I have.

You Well, since you like chocolate, they have a fantastic cake called Brooklyn Blackout. Super rich but delicious.

James Sounds right up my alley.

You Cats or dogs?

James I’m gone too much, so cats.

The answer piqued your interest. Maybe he was an athlete. Wouldn’t it be practice and not training, though? Or he’s FBI or CIA.

You Socks on or off for sleeping?

James Off.

You Silver or gold?

James Silver.

You Morning, noon, or night?

James Night.

You How do you take your coffee?

James Room for sugar and creamer.

You Boxers or briefs?

James Boxer briefs.

You laughed out loud, looking around the subway car to see if anyone was paying attention to you. Per usual, they weren’t.

You Touché.

As soon as the train stopped, you gathered your purse close to your body and made for the exit. You followed the crowd of fellow passengers through the turnstile and ascended the stairs onto street level.

The morning sunlight caressed your skin like a warm blanket. The humidity wasn’t too bad, yet, but the threat of afternoon thunderstorms still hung in the air.

Even with the reasonably early hour, the sidewalk was stuffed with people, carrying to-go coffee cups or shopping bags. You fought for your little spot of real estate on the grimy concrete.

Stopping at a red traffic light, waiting to cross, you typed out another question for James.

You Pineapple on pizza--yay or nay?

The light changed as you finished, and the throng of pedestrians around you guided you across the street. You spotted Robyn outside the bakery as your phone dinged with a new text alert.

“Wow, I’m surprised you made it on time,” Robyn said as you hugged hello.

You looked at the clock on your phone. 8:58. “You and me both, sister.” Glancing back at your phone’s screen, you giggled.

James What kind of monster puts pineapple on their pizza??

“What’s so funny?” Robyn asked as you accompanied her through the bakery’s door.

With a grin on your face, you punched out a quick reply:

You Well, it was nice knowing you, James. It was a swell friendship while it lasted--a whole 11 ½ hours.

Robyn elbowed you softly in the ribs with a look on her face, seeking an explanation.

“Ow,” you grunted. “What?”

“You tell me. I half expected a zombie to walk through the doors today after your text last night. Not Suzie Sunshine.”

You both edged closer to the counter as the line in front of you dwindled.

James Say it ain’t so, doll! Pineapple on pizza? Really??

You let out a low chortle as you skimmed the text. You glimpsed up at Robyn as you shuffled forward in line again. “Believe me, I’m pretty hungover,” you replied, shoving your phone in your back pocket. “It’s a funny story. I’ll tell you everything when we sit.”

Robyn stared at you warily, still trying to figure out what had come over you. “Okay,” she conceded, stepping to the register to order.

With each of you supplied with an iced coffee and a peach ginger scone, you found an empty table by a window along 2nd Avenue and proceeded to tell Robyn about James.

When you stopped to catch your breath, remembering the whirlwind the last twelve hours had been, you peered at your sister for her reaction.

She stared at you like you’d grown a second head. She shook her head in disbelief. “(Y/N), what where you thinking?”

Your brow pinched in confusion. Was she actually scolding you? You crossed your arms over your chest. “I was thinking about how my big sister is always telling me to meet new people and how it’s time I thought about settling down.”

“Not like this it’s not,” she hissed. “This is how your body parts end up in someone’s freezer!”

You choked on the piece of scone you shoved in your mouth before she started ridiculing you. After coughing to clear your airway and taking a sip of your iced coffee, you leered at Robyn. “Oh, my god! Dramatic much? Have you been binge-watching Dateline again? Jesus Christ, Robyn, he’s harmless,” you countered.

“You think you’ll be so careful, but you’ll let one little detail slip, and he’ll find you,” Robyn said before taking a pull from her coffee.

“You mean, like, how I was meeting you at Two Little Red Hens at nine o’clock?”

Robyn’s mouth popped open in an O. “What the hell, (Y/N)?” she stage-whispered. “Are you trying to get yourself kidnapped and sold into sex trafficking?”

“Please,” you drew out in one long syllable. “He doesn’t know what I look like. How would he snatch me?”

“He could look you up on Facebook.”

“Without a last name?” You shook your head, no.

“What about a reverse search on your number?” Robyn asked, pushing the plate holding her scone away. “That’s a thing.”

“Perhaps, but it seems like a lot of effort for a mistake I made. It wasn’t like he was seeking me or anyone else out.”

Robyn huffed out a breath and folded her arms in exasperation. Always the protective big sister. You could tell you were breaking her down, though.

“C’ mon, Robbie. It’s all in innocent fun. I’m not saying I’m hoping he’ll turn out to be Mr. Right, but the banter is fun,” you remarked. “James is charming and witty and nice to talk to.”

Robyn shook her head once more, frowning. “I hope you know what you’re doing.”

You reached across the table for her hand and squeezed gently. “Me too.” You smiled slyly, remembering last night’s dinner and Timmons gushing about The Avengers. “If not, I know how to get ahold of a couple of centenarians who know chivalry isn’t dead.”

Chapter One | Chapter Three

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[jason-the-mommas-boy]

hello darling Narrator!! okay idc if this is a request or something for the book but,,, Jason helping his s/o with their hair/makeup,,, he’s so precious and would be so gentle when working with hair?? he might not be the best at it but he’s number one in my heart

aa!! anon, im so sorry that this took so long but I just really loved this idea and I also mixed it with one of the february prompts I had planned so that’s the main reason it took this long aaa…I hope you enjoy it though!! also bonus points for anyone who knows what the book I reference is at the end)

Jason Voorhees braids his S/O’s hair (and more)

Prompt / Summary - Sleepover!!! /  nails prompt from the 2020 February prompt list made by @ / hiddendreamer67 (yes ill be doing all of them eventually!!) 

Word Count: 6.7k

Jason can’t remember much about his childhood after all these years.

Yes, of course, he remembers his mommy, the bullies that tortured him at the camp, and the overwhelming feeling of water running down into his lungs. But the small details have completely dropped from his memory as his decaying body grew older. Though, as soon as you entered into his life and he accepted that fact, the small stuff you did would irk the forgotten things. 

You taking his measurements for example. You were going to get him a new shirt as a surprise once you learned that he absolutely adored turtlenecks, but you needed to make sure it would fit on the giant man! Jason didn’t question it, if he had to be honest, you had done weirder things. Much to his surprise, this little action had reminded him back to when he was just a kid, his mommy doing the same exact thing! She’d take his measurements, and leave a kiss on his forehead for behaving so well afterwards.

These memories often left him feeling happier. It was something positive that he could take away from when he was a child as most things were very negative. But it also meant that you just kept putting a positive impact on his life! You were such an angel in his eyes. 

A few days ago, he had another one of these moments. It was late in the evening when you arrived at Jason’s cabin, a little bit of (messy) makeup adorning your face. You had a big meeting at your job that day and felt like it was important to look better than usual so you wouldn’t leave an okay or worse impression. 

You’re a little dumbfounded when your boyfriend opens the door to let you in, he freezes up, and goes blank. He’s never seen you in makeup before! And??? If he didn’t already have a dead heart, it would have stopped beating at that very moment! You were so pretty already and now you’re even more pretty??? Oh, RIP this poor man. It seems like every other day you were giving him an entirely new reason to love you. 

But it also reminded him of when he was younger. His mommy would let him put makeup on her face if he wished to do so after a particularly long day at camp. He’d grab a washcloth and clean her face before placing a lot of makeup on her. He thought his mommy looked just lovely with it and it would always destress him or calm him down. 

“Jason?” Your voice called out, pulling him away from the trance you had put him in.

Right, you were still outside the cabin, waiting for him. He let you inside, taking a step to the side. A warm fire was already ready when you stepped in, the warmth inviting you to sit and relax. But even before you even thought about taking a seat on that couch, Jason stopped you and made sure you were paying attention to him for the minute. He made the heart shape with his hands and then he gestured towards your face.

It took a moment before you realized what he was trying to say. With a smile, you looked up to him. “Aww! Do you like my makeup?” 

He nodded, happy that his message came across. 

He made another notion quickly afterwards, pointing to your lips. He wasn’t sure how else to express what he wanted to do! Being mute could be extremely difficult sometimes. 

You tilted your head, giving him a confused look. “Err, wha?” 

Uh, okay. This time he tried to hold an imaginary brush up to your face and made a few strokes, as if he were painting on a canvas. Was that any better? He wasn’t exactly sure. 

Silence. Then you blink a few times, having stared at his fingers with a skeptical face. 

“You would like to do my makeup?” 

Jason nodded again, this time much more excited. He’s already shown that he just loved brushing your hair, which made sense. He didn’t have any hair of his own and probably found the action itself soothing. So it’s really no surprise to you that he’d like to do your makeup as well! Honestly, your boyfriend just loved doing stuff for you. 

You pat his arm as an idea popped into your head! “Jason! Why don’t we just have a sleepover? You can do my makeup and hair and I’ll do your nails! How’s that sound to my special boy?” 

Oh! Sure! 

You didn’t have any of your makeup with you, though. You were more than sure that Jason didn’t either. Yeah, he took everything he could find from the dead campers, but it was pretty unlikely the people here would pack lipstick in their supplies.

It seemed like Jason was having the same thoughts as you. He was also a little disappointed that he wouldn’t be able to do your makeup tonight, but he was still just as happy to have you here, in his home, and hopefully, be in his arms soon. 

You bite your lip. “Don’t worry I’ll bring everything we need, okay?” You got an understanding nod in response. Okay, cool! 

Oh, but a sleepover??? The masked killer can’t remember if he ever had a sleepover before. Probably not. He never recalled having any friends back at camp besides his mommy, but she was always busy with her job as the cook most of the time. 

You’ve also never stayed the night before! There were so many new experiences you were providing him! 

“Is this weekend okay with you? That way I can come by early perrrhaps? I don’t want you to put makeup on me just to take it off before we sleep.” 

He shook his head as if to say, Oh, absolutely not, there could be campers out there to hurt you-

You bit your lip and tugged at his sleeve. “Pleeease? Take a few hours off that routine for me? I’m sure there’ll be no teenagers running about.” 

Oh, what was he thinking? He couldn’t say no to you. As long as you were spending all that time with him, it was okay. More time spent with you, the better, he guessed. With a nod, he pressed his mask against your forehead, mocking a kiss.

With the plan made, all there was needed to do was wait on Jason’s part. Which he already continuously struggled with on a daily basis. Yes, he had patience for the kill, but he did not have patience to wait for you! 

Well, Jason assumed that if you were going to stay the night, you would most likely want a warm place to sleep. While he had his own bedroom, it was extremely cold, no thanks to the giant hole in the roof. He also found that the tunnels underneath were also unfit, as they were cramped and filled with rats. He didn’t know your opinion on the rodents but he didn’t want to give you a scare. He considered moving the fireplace for a moment, but then realized it would be chilly in the main room instead! Were you fine with sleeping on the couch (with himself by your side)? 

The next few days would pass by, agonizingly slow in Jason’s opinion, but he wouldn’t complain. You still visited at night to hang out with him! To cuddle on the couch and let you talk about your day. He just loved having you in his arms (or be in your arms!) and just being able to enjoy your company as much as you enjoyed his. He was just too excited for his own good sometimes. 

As much as time mocked the poor boy, it also went by terrifyingly fast. The weekend was already here! The sun found itself sitting at the horizon just as Jason was making his way around the woods, reminiscing on the events of the past few nights with you. He needed to make sure there were definitely no campers at or around the camp. He just wants to enjoy his first sleepover with you and not have any disruptions! Only when he was sure that the area was free of intruders, he made his way back to his home. 

A step in and he’s already on his way to get stuff out for the sleepover. He places a stack of firewood near the fireplace, enough to last the whole night to keep you all nice and warm. Well, he thinks it’s enough, but knowing Jason, he probably overstocked.. He doesn’t have the best sense of time unfortunately. To play it safe, he also had a couple of blankets sitting on the couch so that you would not freeze to death in the middle of the night, especially since he didn’t provide any body heat. Oh, and pillows, of course. Your comfort was his top priority. 

Did you need food? You never really ate when you visited before…maybe you would at least need something to eat in the morning. But if you were to even mention being hungry before then, he would leap at the opportunity to do something for you. His chest always seemed to get fuzzy when you praised him and he genuinely liked that feeling. It was a drive to do more things for you, though he would have done anything for you even if he didn’t. Your happiness was the goal that he set to achieve every time you step foot on his grounds. 

Just as he sets extra pillows down on the couch, he hears the ring of the bells chime in a familiar pattern from down below. Loud enough for him to hear, but quiet enough for no one else to pick up on it unless they were paying attention. It was your way of communicating that you were almost to the cabin for a visit. 

Oh, he was excited. There was no use in hiding that. He just loved it whenever you came by, no matter if it was almost a nightly basis. It was the idea that you were sleeping over that really excited him. There was the aspect of being able to do your makeup and hair as well. The detail that you wanted to take care of his nails didn’t slip by him either, but he wasn’t sure on what that really meant. 

He lifts his hands up so they’re in his eye view, turning them so he could look at his fingernails. Was there something wrong with his nails? He didn’t think so, maybe they were just too long? Jason wasn’t really that caught up in how much self-care was deemed acceptable in society, he just didn’t care, but maybe he should be taking care of himself better. He did have a significant other to impress now. 

He shrugs the thought off, leaning down on one knee to toss some logs into the fireplace. The lack of self cleanliness didn’t seem to bother you from what he could tell. Yeah, he had the decency to let you wash his clothes every now and then or stand out in the rain in attempt to wash off the dirt and blood on his jacket and jeans (much to your dismay), but he didn’t do much other than that. 

With newspaper and wood in the fireplace, it was set for a fire, to which he eagerly started. He has no need to stay warm, he didn’t get sick or anything alike, and didn’t even mind the cold, but the heat that the fire provided was a reminder of you. Not just because he only set the fire just for you when you were about to arrive, but also because it reminded him of your warmth, the body heat that you radiated. You were just so warm compared to him, which was no surprise as he was a walking corpse and you were a living human being. 

The fire itself finally roars to life, flames intertwining with one another as he stands back up. A smile found itself on his lips, it was genuinely a funny thought that you were perfectly okay with dating someone that was like a zombie, even as going far as cuddling and kissing him. He was a murderer too but you seemed to be okay with this fact too after a while. It was understood that he wanted to be left alone on his land and wanted no guests, with you as the odd exception to this rule. You weren’t afraid of who he was, not even slightly disgusted, and with this fact, his undead heart overflowed with emotion in his chest. 

Jason was unknowingly poking at the fire with a stick, struck with this sense of boredom while still being excited for your arrival. He didn’t know how to explain it, maybe it was just a side effect of impatience when something he was waiting for was so close. He runs his tongue over his teeth, trying to understand this new emotion to the best of his abilities. This wasn’t the first time that you, whether you meant it or not, caused him to feel something entirely new. 

It seems like all you did was provide new. New emotions, experiences, memories, desires, and a lot of many other things he couldn’t put his finger on. It was all new to him, as most of his years were spent feeling anger and remorse, killing anyone who dared to step on the campgrounds. He wasn’t the way he was now though, only shaped by the world, your kindness and childhood memories he would find along the way. He’d been a blank slate with a few morals already set in place, a curious young boy eager to learn given the opportunity. 

A gentle knock kicks him out from his thinking, dragging his attention away from the fire to the door. 

You were here!

Dropping his poking stick, he scrambles to the door to open it. With a motion, the door was opened and boom, you were there! The ever-so adorable you was standing at his doorstep, a backpack scooped up in your arms, and a smile on your face. You were practically a beam of sunshine in his dark little corner of the world at this very moment. 

“Hey!” You greet, moving the bag in your arms so you could wave at the masked killer of Camp Blood. 

He waves back before plucking the backpack from you with ease and moving aside so you could enter. You were a guest in his home and Jason was not going to allow you to do any physical labor, even if it wasn’t a big deal for you. The bag itself wasn’t even that heavy, and probably felt like a feather in Jason’s hand, but your boyfriend didn’t care.

You roll your eyes playfully and walk inside, making sure to close the door behind you as well. “Why, thank you, Jason.” 

The way he perks up at your praise does not go unnoticed, the smile behind his hockey mask completely evident. He nods in response, shrugging in the process as to say that it wasn’t a big deal.

A gentle hand sets on your shoulder as he leads you to the couch, to where the warm fire and blankets were. He was no stranger to the cold outside, even if it was early enough for the sun to be out. You oblige (there was no use in fighting with your boyfriend on this, was there?) and set yourself on the old cushions. 

You take a folded blanket off the stack of squares and smile, more to yourself. Jason didn’t need to go out of his way to find his stash of blankets, as experience reminds you that he had to go searching for one for a little bit the first time you complained that you were cold. Maybe it really did get that chilly at night here. 

Unfolding the blanket as the gentle giant beside you took his own seat, you sit up and place a kiss on the lower part of Jason’s hockey mask. “Mmm, thank you.” And, to make sure he understood, you rest the blanket on both of your laps. 

It seems that no matter how many times you show him physical affection, he’ll never really get used to it. It’s alien to him no matter what, as it always got him to freeze up and take a few moments to unwind the growing flustered feelings. Even if the kiss wasn’t directly skin-to-skin contact, the act itself always made the poor boy feel overwhelmed if he wasn’t prepared for it or the one initiating the affection first. 

With a slow nod, Jason leans down to return the favor with a mock kiss on the forehead. His mask wasn’t exactly the most pleasant thing to feel, the fiberglass was always cold to the touch. This was more than likely due to the body heat your boyfriend seems to never produce. It was also a bit rough, with all the cuts from the use over the years. 

The masked killer sitting by your side gently taps your shoulder with two fingers to gain your attention before it could drift away, lifting your backpack into his lap and tilting his head as if to say What is this for? 

You giggle, finding his curiosity cute. “It’s my things for the sleepover.” 

He tilts his head the other way. Surely you did not have that much makeup just lying around. 

“It isn’t just the stuff I said I would bring silly.” 

Oh?

Taking the bag from his grasp, you pull the longest zipper open to reveal clothes and a few toiletries. You grab a shirt as an example to show him. “I brought things like pajamas to wear tonight and clothes to change into tomorrow. My toothbrush, toothpaste, lotion, and all that stuff.” 

Ah. So there was more to taking care of yourself than just keeping your clothes clean. Jason nods, understanding. Of course you would bring other things to make sure you kept clean. 

You place the piece of clothing back into the backpack and reach further in to locate and pull out a hairbrush. You eye the object for a moment before looking back up to your expectant boyfriend. “You wanted to brush my hair, right?” 

He nods again with a child-like glee in his eyes, he just adored brushing your hair. 

Instead of simply handing the brush over, you point to his hands. “You know the drill, Silly. Your hands must be clean before you can touch my hair.” 

With a glance towards where you had pointed, Jason realizes that his hands are grimey and covered in dirt. While it was true that his hands weren’t dirty enough to leave marks on anything, it still would be the best route to clean his hands before touching your hair. He didn’t want to ruin your pretty hair! 

The cabin he resided in no longer had running water as the years passed by, and while Jason could do many things, he didn’t know how to make the sink work again. To make up for that, he keeps water bottles he’s stolen from campers and the few you got him in his (no longer working) fridge. He really didn’t need water, his body didn’t require it to function properly, and only really kept the water to wash his hands and other things if he needed to. 

So, he was stuck washing his hands awkwardly in the sink that didn’t work with some soap bar he found most of the time. And that’s what he’s planning to do as he pushed the blanket off his lap to the side and stood up. Well, before you tugged at the sleeve of his jacket. 

When he looks down to you, you smile and tilt your head, an action Jason would have done if he had a question. “Can I wash your hands? I need to scrub those nails.” You pause, seeing the confusion in his eyes. “For the nail polish and stuff.” Another awkward pause, was he waiting for something? “Just uh, fill a bowl with water and bring it over here with the soap, okay?” 

The masked killer stood there for a moment before nodding, agreeing to your request. He leans down to pat your head and continues to make his way toward the decaying kitchen to grab what he needed. He could practically feel his heart flutter in his chest, almost questioning if it would leap out and start running all over the place. One of his favorite things in the world was having your tiny hands in his. It didn’t matter if your hands were actually tiny compared to another normal human’s, they were tiny in his hands! It genuinely made him feel like his heart was melting. 

Wait. Did he have any bowls in the cabin? He should, right? It seems like such a silly question to ask himself, but he never really looked into the kitchen. He didn’t need food or water and he was perfectly okay with using his mother’s machete as a murder weapon, so there was no use in searching the kitchen for stuff he simply didn’t need. And when did he ever recall the use of a bowl? 

He takes a step into the kitchen, somewhat hesitant and suddenly feeling lost in his own home. The bowls would be in the cabinet if his memory served him right. With one swift movement, he finds himself standing at multiple cabinets connected to the wall. Pulling at the tiny knob, there’s a relief flooding through him when he does find the bowls sitting there right in front of him. 

They were a little dusty and a little cracked from age, but that’s okay. He eyes them and picks out one that looks like it was the least likely to spill anything. They weren’t very big, probably couldn’t even fit one of his hands in it, but it was better than having to head down into the tunnels and go scavenge for some doggy dish.

Satisfied, he closes the cabinet and grabs the other two items he needs to be able to complete his little quest and sit back down with you. 

His little feet stomps were enough to tell you that Jason was walking back and by the time you were going to turn your head around to greet him again, he was sitting back down on the couch. Ah, right. Mister long legs. 

You lend your hand out, a way of asking for the bowl that he had in his grasp, to which he complied. “Thank you again.” You smile at him, gently squeezing his hand before taking the bowl, which was holding the water bottle and an unopened bar of soap. 

You move the objects out of the dish, quickly filling it with the water instead with the help of Jason steadying the bowl in his hands so it wouldn’t spill over. You balance it in a safe spot between the two of you, getting the man before you to wet his hands as you take the bar of soap out of the box. 

Wetting the soap just after Jason moves himself out of your way, you gesture for him to give you one of his hands and set to gently scrubbing at his palm. He was perfectly capable of washing his own hands, but it was going to be easier if it was you picking at the dirt in his nails. Also, his hands were nice, there was no denying that. 

You look up, making an attempt to keep the silence sitting in the air at bay. “Have you ever had your nails painted before?” 

He shakes his head. An obvious answer to you now when you consider that the poor boy didn’t have any friends when he was younger. 

Feeling a bit of guilt boil in your gut, you bite your lip and try to keep the conversation positive in case any unwanted memories found their way to Jason. “Well, I don’t have many colors to choose from, but you’re free to choose what you want. We can do different colors if you’d like.” 

Jason nods to this, the proposal more than agreeable. Honestly, he was just happy to have an excuse to feel your fingers on his. It left the tips of his ears feeling tingly, a very pleasant buzz that probably would have left a blush on his cheeks. 

“Just, uh, don’t touch anything after I paint your nails! They’re gonna need to dry off.” It was a reminder that needed to be set. If someone hadn’t told you to not go touch crazy when you were younger, nail polish would have gotten on everything. But Jason gives another nod, understanding.

Okay, next hand. You pat his other arm as you let go of the one you just finished scrubbing the dirt and grime off of. And with that, you start your work. 

“How would you like to put my hair up this time? Braids? Ponytail? Bun?” You grab his attention with a smile and wait for his answer. 

It takes him a moment before he raises his recently cleaned hand up with one index finger up, indicating the first option you listed. “Braids, huh?” 

He nods, confirming his answer to you. 

“Okay!” You squeeze his hand, giggling somewhat. The first time he tried to put your hair up in braids was a little more than just messy, but it was fun for you both in the process and in the end result. 

The water in the bowl was a little more than dirty by the time you give back Jason’s hand, leaving both of them cleaner than before. You drop the bar of soap back into its box and set it and the dish on the floor to move it out of the way. 

Jason is wondering if he should wipe his hands off on his dirty pants or not, and settles for very carefully drying them off on his shirt. He didn’t want to erase the effort you put into scrubbing his palms but he also didn’t want to make your hair wet. You offer him your hairbrush for him to take, and with nothing in the way between you two, you scoot in closer to his lap and turn around. 

It only takes a few moments until you feel a very light trace of fingers running around your hairline. At this point, it feels like you are never going to get used to how gentle your boyfriend is around you when you know how much strength he can put out at will. It draws a shudder out of you as he drags his fingers through your hair and you easily relax into his touch. 

It didn’t matter if your hair was a mess, greasy, tangled up, or just plain gross, Jason loved it. For someone to trust him enough to be able to be this close and touch something such as their hair without a care in the world reminds him of what he so dearly needed. Human contact, bonding, something he very much lacked in his childhood with others around his age. Sure, there were other activities, but brushing your hair was his favorite. There was something so satisfying about it to him. Was it the brushing out the tangles, playing with something so soft with his fingers as he styles it to his liking, or just having you so close to him that he could straddle you in his grasp and smell you? It was a mix of all of them, he guesses. 

And with a silent breath, Jason runs the brush through your hair. 

There weren’t many tangles, he finds out. Which, in his book, was good. He didn’t know if you had a sensitive scalp or not, and the last thing he wanted was to see you in tears because he pulled at a tangle too harshly. You always seemed to be fine when he brushed your hair, but he could never be too sure. 

Otherwise, he was enjoying himself, especially when he finally brushes out all the little tangles, leaving him to brush your hair mindlessly. You didn’t complain about this, it felt nice to feel the brush move gently around your scalp with no real intention. This was nice.

Jason sets the brush down on his thigh and moves his fingers back through your hair, relishing in how nice it was. He separates it into three parts, trying to make them all equal as best as he could. If he had to be honest with himself, he wasn’t the best at braiding. His hands were awkwardly too large in some instances and the braid itself was always too loose to hold for very long. He liked doing it though, practice makes perfect after all. 

He starts the braiding process, feeling a little lost as he did so. It felt a little confusing just because he’d forget which part to move, even if it was making itself clear as day to him. 

He leans down to rest his chin on your head once he gets close to finishing the braid. It was a little out of nowhere for you, but it was enjoyable nevertheless. He moves a free hand to run down to your arm from your shoulder, patting at your skin along the way with two fingers. Was he trying to grab your attention? 

Just in case, you turn your head to the best of your abilities without disrupting his little resting spot on your scalp. “Hm?” 

He tugs at the bottom of your braid with care, inferring something, to which he hopes that you’ll get what he was trying to say. 

Oh, oh! 

“You need a scrunchie, don’t you?” You ask, and feel Jason tap his fingers again in response. 

That was a yes by your standards, so you stretch out your leg to fetch your backpack by the straps with your foot. There was no necessary reason to get up and leave your boyfriend’s gentle grasp when he was getting himself comfortable. You lean forward just a tiny bit to grab the bag once you could reach for it and pull it into your chest. It wasn’t long before you found your tiny bag of scrunchies sitting amongst your clothes, and you take one out for the gentle giant behind you to take. 

The object leaves your hand pretty quickly, and you feel Jason sit back up to wrap it at the end of your braid to finish the look. The braid itself feels like it would fall apart at any moment, but gosh, did it feel nice to have such big hands playing around in your hair. 

You flip yourself around so you are facing Jason again, placing the bag in your lap as you opened up another zipper. You reveal its contents to him, showing him the makeup supplies that you brought. “You wanted to do my makeup, right?” 

He nods, a huff coming out from him as he brings a hand up to fix a few stray hairs near your face. With that, you can’t hide the faint blush on your cheeks. It was so unfair that this monster of a man didn’t even have to try that hard to make you a little flustered, and it was even more unfair that he usually never meant to do so!

“I already cleaned my face before I got here so…you can do whatever with what I have!” You take out a small tube of lipstick. “I don’t have many colors or a lot of anything, is that alright?” 

Of course it was! He gives another nod and digs his fingers into the pouch, peering into what items he could see. 

“Okay! Just don’t poke my eye out.” You joke, dropping the lipstick back to where you had grabbed it. A smile pulls at your lips as you hear a noise erupt from him while his shoulders give a light shake, a voiceless laugh sounding from him. 

It was only really funny to him because he would never hurt you, he knows that he has to be very gentle with humans, or, well, you. Any other human he doesn’t care if he hurts or not as long as their injury or death was justified, but if you got hurt, he doesn’t know what he would do with himself. He nods to what you say anyways, shrugging his shoulders to convey that he won’t, he doesn’t have a reason to. 

Jason pulls out a cylinder tube from your backpack, something comically small in his grasp. He uncaps it to better recognize what it was. It produced a wand with some black fuzz at the end. He was familiar with the use of it, but the name was escaping his tongue. 

You, on the other hand, knew that what he was holding was a tiny bottle of mascara. If you remember correctly, it was a sample size you had gotten from a store not even a month ago. 

He makes a tilting motion of his head and then points to you with his index finger, he wants you to do the same thing. You comprehend this and do so and close. your eyes. 

His hands are shaky and unsure, the mascara wand shaking a little bit as he applied it to your eyelashes. He had to be careful! Jason definitely did not want to accidentally rub mascara onto your skin and if he knew any better, makeup was not easy to take off. He made a few strokes before pulling away, the absence of his presence near your face told you he was finished and sitting back. 

You flutter your eyes a bit, giving your boyfriend a playful look. “Am I looking good so far?” 

Jason nods, his chest a little warmer. You always looked nice in his opinion. Even if you were trying to push against him in the rain for him to get back inside, you still somehow managed to be the most beautiful thing he’s laid his eyes on. It was just very frustrating that he didn’t know how to express that without a voice. 

“Why thank you.” 

He shrugs and puts the tiny tube of makeup back into the pouch. Amongst his search for something else to use, he found a few lipsticks, all which were varying in color and shades. He could easily name what these were, as it was his favorite thing to play around with when he was younger. 

Jason takes his time in putting up each one near your face, testing to see which one best complimented your skin color. After a moment, he seems to be happy with his second option and continues to place the rest of the cosmetics back to where they previously sat. He gestures for you to sit up and he cups your chin with his expected gentleness. 

He’s careful and considerably more steady when he applies the lipstick, obviously more confident with this item of makeup. He tries to not put on too much and not smudge any of it, but the key word is tries. His big hands are the cause of his mistake, accidentally smudging some of the color off your lips when he was pulling back and has to fight the urge to try to wipe it away

A giggle escapes you, essentially grabbing his attention away from the accident to you. It was a sign to convey that it was alright, things happen. 

The item is put back where it belongs in your bag, packing the hairbrush too, and he was a little unsure of what else to do. He didn’t have much experience in the makeup department, and within the awkwardness of his confusion, you speak up. “Are you done?” 

He’s contemplating on how to answer, still unsure himself. Jason takes a quick glance at you, a little flutter in his stomach making itself known, and nods. He almost captured the way you had looked a few days ago and he enjoys that. 

“Well, what do you think?” You ask, giving him a smile. 

Despite his mistake still prominent, you still look really pretty! He forms a little heart with his hands to tell you his thoughts, his lips forming a smile behind the mask. 

You reach up to squeeze his wrist and give a half-suppressed laugh. “Awwe, always the gentleman.” Pride fills his chest and he pats your arm before pushing the backpack back towards you. 

You scavenge through the bag’s pouch and pull out a few bottles of nail polish, one that is filled with a clear liquid while the others are of different colors. You present the ones with color to Jason in your palms, offering them to him. “Pick a color!” 

Your masked boyfriend hesitates, viewing his options before plucking one of the bottles from your grasp. 

“Yellow? Okay.” You nod, putting the rest of the colors back in their little pouch and moving your backpack to the floor. You pause, tapping the yellow nail polish. “Yellow’s your favorite color, huh?”

It was obvious, kind of. He had shown you a lot of attention in thanks when you had given him a yellow turtleneck sweater not too long ago. His bedroom had a lot of yellow knickknacks and his tiny garden he started with you were mostly filled with yellow flowers.

With no surprise, Jason nods. He made it no secret, he very much enjoys the color. If anything, it was a reminder of you to have when you’re gone. Yellow is a very vibrant color that he associates with happiness and he considers you his little patch of sunshine! You definitely made his life way better the moment you walked into it and stood your ground. It only made sense, right?

You give a dip of your head and gesture for him to give you his hands. “Before we can paint your nails, we have to put on this clear coat so it lasts longer. Is that okay?”

He confirms his consent and you hunch over, starting to administer the clear coat onto his nails with the small brush. Nail polish is colder than what the masked killer assumed and shudders out of surprise. You take the yellow nail polish and start applying it to every other fingernail, cleaning up any mistakes you make with your sleeve. Jason was staying very still as you worked, not even flexing his fingers like you would have in an impatient hurry. It’s appreciated that’s for sure. 

The varnish is quick to dry just as you finish applying the pink, though still wet enough to be easily ruined. You put the color off to the side and sit up, giving Jason a better view at the nails you had painted so far. “Do you like?” 

Yellow looks nice on him, Jason thinks. He likes it and he has to bite back on the desire to hug you to better show you his appreciation, but finds an alternative. Jason leans down and presses his hockey mask against your forehead. This was nice. 

You sit up and plant a kiss against his cheek in return, leaving a lipstick kiss mark in the spot. You can’t tell if Jason acknowledges this fact, but it just makes him look so much softer and cuter. Now, if he were wearing his sweater you got him, he’d be the definition of adorable.

You speak up and tug at your backpack, “I, uh, have a book in my backpack if you want me to read it to you…? You told me that your mom used to read stories to you so I thought you’d like me to read to you?” 

He was this close to hugging you right now, oh gosh. You were so attentive to what he was always trying to say in actions. He nods his head excitedly, watching you peak through your bag one last time for the evening to pull out a black book. 

“Get comfy.” You tease, adjusting your position to turn around and sit in his lap. He follows your instructions, hunching down to rest his head on your shoulders to not only see the cover better, but to nuzzle into your cheek. 

You lick your lips and open the book. “The monster showed up just after midnight. As they do…“ 

[softyoongiionly]

Fear and Dumplings: Chapter Six

Confronting your fears for a final grade sounds unappealing but, with Yoongi as your partner, things might not be so bad.

Summary: You’re in your final semester at University when your Abnormal Psychology professor assigns you a partnered project surrounding your greatest fears. Lucky for you, your partner just so happens to be a cute boy named Min Yoongi.

Pairing: Min Yoongi x Reader

Genre: College Au, Underground Rapper! Yoongi, Soft!!! Yoongi, Fluff!!!, some moderate angst (later), smut (later later),  slow-ish? burn

Word Count: 5.1K

A/N: I’m literally on fire after writing this chapter lol. I hope you like it!😊

Warnings for this Chapter: mentions of fear, anxiety, sadness, some angst aka Jimin is an insecure boy who is unaware that he is literaly heaven on earth, swearing, suggestive situations/concepts, if you squint really hard you can see the beginnings of smut.

Warnings for the Fic: mentions characters confronting their fears, characters in uncomfortable situations, emotional moments between characters, mentions of bad parenting, explicit language throughout the fic, moderate angst, and very explicit smut later in the story.

Chapter 6: Doubt and Shadow Demons

You’re lying on your bed in one of your many baggy t-shirts, smiling like an idiot at your phone. Jimin had sent you screenshots of what he believed to be Yoongi’s twitter. If Jimin wasn’t aiming to be a dancer, you would have suggested a career as a private investigator because,  he could literally find anyone. You hadn’t asked Jimin to go looking for more information on Yoongi but, you’d be lying if you said you weren’t interested. His Twitter was mostly black, no bio and, no location but, the avatar was a picture of Yoongi wearing headphones, his newly blonde hair disheveled as he smiled at the camera. He really had no business being that cute. ‘@agustd93’ was his handle and you furrowed your brows in confusion as you tried to decipher what it could mean.  Yoongi didn’t seem to tweet much, he just retweeted a lot of music equipment accounts however, there were a few scattered tweets here and there that made you laugh.

“Roommates are drunk, again. They can’t hold their alcohol for shit.”

“Update: Drunk Hobi is obsessed with my cheeks and, I swear if he pinches them one more time, I’m going to cut his hands off.”

“Another Update: Joon just started crying after explaining to me that, “we are all just little flowers in the garden of life, trying to find our bees.” What the fuck does that even mean?”

You giggle, shaking your head, your thumb scrolling down to search for more tweets. There were more scattered between retweets of what you assumed to be the latest music equipment as Yoongi quoted some of the them with captions like ‘Dream Studio’ and ‘if only I wasn’t broke.’ You kept scrolling before coming across a tweet that made your stomach flutter.

‘Where? Everywhere.’

Fuck. He tweeted that last night. After you and Yoongi got off the Ferris Wheel, you actually ended up having a pretty decent time. The two of you got dinner at the park and wrote your experiences down in your research journals. Yoongi acted like the conversation on the Ferris Wheel never happened but, he seemed to warm up to you more and more as the night progressed. But still, nothing flirty occurred between the two of you and, Yoongi was very careful not to get too close to you. The whole thing was very confusing, one minute, Yoongi’s admitting that he would kiss you ‘everywhere, if you let him’ and, the next minute he’s treating you like he normally did. This tweet was sent at 11:30 which would have been around the time he got back to his place. Maybe it wasn’t about you, Yoongi seemed to have a habit of being vague and, he easily could have been talking about something else but, none the less, it made your heart skip a beat.

Did you like Yoongi? More importantly, did it matter? You shook your head, trying to rid yourself of your complicated thoughts as you rolled out of bed. Marzipan throws a complaint your way as you walk past her lounging at the end of the mattress. Normally, you would be out at your favorite crepe café gossiping with Jimin over some iced coffee but, Jimin had texted you the night before saying that his showcase rehearsal was running late and he didn’t think he’d get any sleep if he met up with you. You had of course met this with an abundance of understanding as you knew better than anyone how hard Jimin had been working at his showcase routine. So, instead of meeting up with your best friend, you planned on working on your final paper for your International Relations course. You had been working on it all semester and, felt accomplished that for once, you didn’t procrastinate. Green tea was essential for today’s writing session so; you brewed a decent sized pot before, continuing your paper. Marzipan eventually made her way out into your living room, opting to sprawl out on the couch, claiming her space as usual.

After writing for some time, you glance at the clock at the bottom of your laptop and your eyes widen. Shit. You had been writing for 4 hours. How was it possible that much time had passed? You had gotten a lot done, adding an additional 6-7 pages to the giant that was your final paper. Just after leaning back in your chair and stretching your limbs, your phone lights up with a text message.

BROS 4 LYFE (Jungkook): I miss the squad tho.

You giggle at the message, your heart warming as you reply.

BROS 4 LYFE: me too tho :/

BROS 4 LYFE (Taehyung): me 3 tho :/ :/

BROS 4 LYFE (Jimin): MY BABIES :( i miss u guys.

A hint of sadness plucks at your chest as you read the messages being sent in by your friends. You had made new friends in school and, college had been an overall fun time but, you had to admit that you never stopped missing having all three of your bestfriends in one place. The past four years hadn’t been the same without them and you couldn’t wait til the four of you graduated so, that you could finally have your group back together again. Jungkook had been drafted to play pro ball on a minor league team in your current city and, Taehyung had made the decision earlier in the semester to pursue his masters in art history at the school you and Jimin were currently attending. This meant that in a few short weeks, everything would back to normal for a little while.

BROS 4 LYFE: only a few more weeks my dudes, we got this.

BROS 4 LYFE (Jungkook) stay on that grind squad, college grad hours are about to be open.

BROS 4 LYFE (Jimin): kookie and tae, will you be here for my showcase? It’s two weeks before graduation.

BROS 4 LYFE (Taehyung): duh. We wouldn’t miss it for the world Jiminie.

BROS 4 LYFE (Jungkook): yea we would never miss a chance to see the world’s shortest ballerina.

Your eyes widen as you laugh, already imagining Jimin igniting in fury when he reads the message. His reply comes before you are able to chime in.

BROS 4 LYFE (Jimin): YAH! IM NOT A BALLERINA!

BROS 4 LYFE (Jimin): I AM A CONTEMPORARY DANCER.

BROS 4 LYFE (Jimin): THE CHAMPION CONTEMPORARY DANCER

BROS 4 LYFE (Jimin): THREE YEARS RUNNING THANKYOUVERYMUCH

At this point you’re in a full blown laughing fit, shaking your head as your fiery best friend pops off in the chat.

BROS 4 LYFE:  go best friend, that’s my best friend.

BROS 4 LYFE (Taehyung): let the record show that Kookie bought 12 of the limited edition Jimin shirts that your school sold after he won the championships.

BROS 4 LYFE (Jungkook): YOU PROMISED ME YOU WOULDN’T TELL

BROS 4 LYFE (Jimin): >:)

BROS 4 LYFE (Jimin): love u kookie

BROS 4 LYFE (Jungkook): …love u too…

The responses eventually dwindle down and, you decide to hop in the shower to tend to the mop of hair that was growing slightly greasy on your head. Afterwards, you throw on a cozy sweatshirt and your favorite pair of fuzzy pajama shorts and, settle on the couch to watch some Netflix. You hadn’t had a night in to yourself in a long time and, it felt amazing to be able to sit around and, do nothing.  Marzipan made her way up your body before, snuggling up in the free space between you and the edge of the couch. As your fingers absentmindedly stroke her fur, you feel your lids becoming heavier and heavier and, finally, you drift off into a much needed nap.

Needless to say, the nap turned into you passing out around 7:30 and, sleeping through the night until, finally, you awake to the ethereal sound of the never-ending city construction. You grumble as you pull the covers over your head to drown out the noise causing Marzipan, who clearly hadn’t left her spot all night, to flee from the couch.  Checking your phone, you noticed a few messages from your group-chat and a snapchat or two from some of your other friends. After responding to the majority of your missed messages, you drag yourself off of the couch and into the kitchen to make some coffee. The microwave displayed the current time: 7:45am; an unholy time to be awake on a Saturday morning. The coffee was finishing up before a loud knock at your door caused you to jump out of your skin. Who the hell was at your house at 7:45 in the morning? You gingerly made your way to the door, hoping that it was just someone from maintenance. Opening the door, you nearly scream as a tuft of pink hair practically collapses into your arms. It was Jimin and, he was crying.

“Jimin, babe, what’s wrong?” You hold him to you, your eyes wide with concern as you usher him into your apartment.

“I can’t do it y/n, I can’t do anything right.” He cries into your t-shirt, his hands clutching you as if you’re about to slip away.

You rub his back, maneuvering you both onto your couch, Jimin clinging to you all the while.

“Hey, hey, that’s not true at all.” You murmur soothingly. “Jimin, what brought this on? Did something happen?”

Jimin, still crying, nods, as the tears stream down his puffy cheeks.

“I’ve been rehearsing for…for 36 hours…and I ca…can’t….do it…I can’t get it right. I ke…keep messing up. I’m n…not getting it…they’re…they’re going to drop me from the showcase if I can’t do it….they…they will…” At this point, your heart is broken, your usually smiley best friend is completely shattered, sobbing, into your arms. You hadn’t seen him like this since he had his first serious breakup sophomore year and, even that couldn’t compare to what you saw before you.

“Shh…minnie…it’s ok, it’s ok, I got you.” You gingerly tilt his swollen face towards yours, your eyes holding an immense amount of emotion as you gaze into his. “Listen to me ok? You can’t rehearse like that, you’re going to burn out and, get hurt. You have to rest. You’ve been practicing non-stop for the entire semester. You could do that routine in your sleep babe. The only reason you probably messed up is because you are exhausting yourself.”

Before you can even finish, Jimin’s eyes well up with tears once again as he shakes his head.

“No…no…you don’t understand…y/n…the coaches came to watch me last night and, I fell…I fell and they…they said that they were disappointed with my progress…and that I need to do better…so…I had to stay to re…rehearse…cause I failed. I failed y/n, I failed.” Jimin bursts into another fit of sobs as he clutches you tighter and, you actually have to hold back the tears that are pricking the corners of your own eyes.

“Dancers fall all the time Jiminie, it’s ok, you had been rehearsing all day. Every free moment you have, you spend in the studio practicing. I know it must have been so hard to fall in front of your coaches but, hey,” You tilt his face to you once more before he can hide away in your arm again. “You are Park fucking Jimin. You are the youngest collegiate dancer to win the national showcase and, the ONLY dancer to win it three years in a row. Dancing is like breathing to you. Audiences are mesmerized as soon as you step on the stage. You did not fail. You are exhausted. You can’t work yourself like this or, there won’t be a Park Jimin to win the showcase four years in a row.” As your words tumble out of your mouth, Jimin begins to calm down, still sniffling lightly, he hugs you again, his normally sparkling eyes, heavy with exhaustion.

“I’m so scared…y/n…there’s so much pressure and, I don’t think I’ll be able to bear it if I disappoint anyone.” You place a chaste kiss to the top of his bubblegum hair as you nod.

“It’s ok to be afraid, this is something you really want and, when we really want something, the thought of failing can be crippling but, you have worked so unbelievably hard.  No one deserves this more than you do. Try and have a little faith in yourself ok? There is nothing you can’t achieve. You have something so magical within you.  Working hard is good but, everyone has their limit and, if you keep pushing yourself like this, you won’t be healthy enough to achieve all of the amazing things I know you are capable of.” Your voice has dropped to an even lower volume as you continue rubbing Jimin’s back. He is looking up at you with intense focus but, you can tell he is on the verge of crashing.

“You promise? You promise you believe I can do this?” He whispers and, your heart shatters in pieces that someone whom you care so deeply for, is in so much pain.

“I don’t just believe Jimin, I know.” You whisper back before jerking your head to the other end of the couch. “Can you please try and sleep for me? When you wake up, we can go somewhere, or we can stay in,its up to you. Just try and rest of a while.” At your request, Jimin lets out a yawn, his lips pressing to your shoulder once more before he flops back onto the couch, still sniffling lightly.

You help him out of his shoes and his coat before grabbing a blanket and, literally tucking him in.

“Thank you y/n.” Jimin whispers, practically half asleep, his hand holding yours lightly.

“You don’t have to thank me, that’s what best friends are for. I’ve cried on your couch a few times too, remember.” You smile fondly as Jimin lets out a twinkling giggle, happy to see that he’s feeling somewhat better.

“I love you.” He whispers, his eyes beginning to shut.

You squeeze his hand lightly before replying.

“I love you too Jimin.”

Jimin drifts off a few moments later, his light snores filling your living room. Your heart feels achy as you reply the last few moments over in your head. You knew your words wouldn’t be enough to completely take away Jimin’s uncertainty but, you were so grateful that he came to you instead of suffering in silence. Jimin had a history of feeling this way right before a showcase. He had done something similar to this your freshman year before, winning and subsequently making history. It absolutely devastated you to see him hurting but, you meant everything you said. There wasn’t a doubt in your mind that Jimin was going to go far in life; you just hoped one day, he could see it for himself.

—————————————————————————————————-

“The dark and the ocean….I think maybe it’s time that we start tackling our fears one by one, what do you think?” You look over at Yoongi, who nods from behind his phone.

“Yeah, I think so too. I don’t know how we’d combine the dark and the ocean anyway.” His voice was slightly scratchier than normal but, when you had asked if he was sick, he told you that he had lost his voice at a concert he went to the night prior. For whatever reason, you didn’t believe him but, rather than prying, you opted to enjoy the sound of Yoongi’s raspy voice becoming even raspier.

“If we did, it would be terrifying and, I would probably die.” You state bluntly, causing Yoongi to scoff in disbelief, shaking his head at you.

“You’re so dramatic.” He chastises, smirking lightly, tapping away at his phone. You shrug, not bothering to disagree with him as you doodle on the corner of your paper. “Are you comfortable confronting this fear directly? I don’t know how you would imagine it, unless, you just imagine yourself in a dark room.”

The shudder that passes through your body was completely involuntary and, Yoongi notices it.

“You don’t have to, we can think of something else.” He assures, his almond shaped eyes, wrinkled slightly in concern. You shook your head insistently, putting on a brave face.

“No, its ok…I can do it. I won’t be alone so, it will be a little easier.” You force smile onto your mouth but, Yoongi isn’t buying it. Thankfully, he decides to accept your statement anyway.

“Does tonight work for you? I have a free Tuesday for once so, I figured we could do yours today and mine on Thursday.” Yoongi’s suggests, his demeanor returning to normal. You nod, leaning back in your chair, attempting to look casual but, your heart jumped slightly in your chest.

“Yeah, that’s fine, what time?” You needed to know how much time you had to straighten up because, you definitely left dirty dishes in the sink and, you were quite certain that you dropped a pair or two of clean underwear whilst running late this morning.

“Well, it doesn’t get dark until 7:30-8 so, maybe around then?” Yoongi cocks his head slightly, his eyes sleepy as usual. You had never had such a strong urge to tuck someone into bed and, kiss their forehead until you met Min Yoongi. That boy needs more sleep.

“I’m good with that yeah. Are we eating together or do you want to eat before you come?”

“I’ll bring something, I have a lot to make up for since somebody, decided to buy our tickets last week.” He gives you a pointed look, disapproval gracing his features. You laugh, shrugging shamelessly, looking up at him.

“I guess you better bring something good then.” You insist, smiling, nudging his desk with your foot.

————————————————————————————————–

It was that very conversation that led you to where you were now:  belly full of That’s Amore’s pasta, apartment tidied up, and Yoongi glancing over at you curiously.

“What?” You giggle lightly, confused at his intense gaze before, he nods over to you.

“Why are you afraid of the dark?” He murmurs, his tone cautious but curious.

You bite your lip, as you feel your body grow slightly uncomfortable. Meeting Yoongi’s gaze, you attempt to sound as brave as possible before, answering his question.

“I…used to have really bad nightmares as a kid. I had them every night for almost two years.” You admit, your eyes moving to stare at the couch instead of continuing to look at Yoongi. “My parents finally took me to a doctor and they told them that I would eventually just grow out of it. They gave me something to help me sleep through the night and, over time, the dreams finally stopped but, I slept with my light on until I was like 14.” You giggle, trying to lighten the mood, not really enjoying the serious tone of the conversation.

Yoongi nods, regarding you earnestly from the other end of the couch.

“I’m sorry.” He says softly and, you can tell that he means it. You smile over at him, brushing it off.

“No, its ok, it happened a long time ago. I’m just still not a huge fan of the dark.” You explain, finally meeting his gaze again.

“You don’t have to do this, you can just keep talking about it…I don’t want you to feel afraid.” He insists, his tone firm and certain.

You nod, your smile growing more genuine.

“I can do it. I think it will be good for me and, like I said, I won’t be alone so, I don’t think it will be too bad.” You’re lying. The dark terrified you but, logically, you understood that there was nothing dangerous about it. You know you can do this.

Yoongi nods but, you can tell that he’s uneasy, his movements cautious and hesitant as he looks around your apartment.

“Ok, do you want to start slow? We could just turn off the lights first; the streetlights shouldn’t make it too dark.” He assures you, nodding toward the window but, you shake your head at his suggestion.

“No, I think it’s better if we just do everything now. I think prolonging it will just make me more nervous.” Your voice is growing smaller and, once you catch that, you sit up straighter.  As if, sitting up straighter would lessen the fear you felt. “Let’s do this.”

Yoongi nods and the two of you move to start closing the curtains and turning off the few lamps that you have on in your apartment. You both stand on opposite ends of your living room as Yoongi’s hand hovers over the main light.

“Are you ready?” He calls softly, his face littered with concern.

You nod, smiling tightly, bracing yourself for the darkness.

“You have to protect me if a shadow demon tries to eat me!” You insist, giggling, trying to lessen the tension as Yoongi rolls his eyes.

“There’s no such thing as shadow demons.” He counters, smirking before, he nods anyway. “But, yeah, I guess I’ll protect you if that happens.”

Your heart is picking up its pace in your chest as you attempt to pull a deep breath from your nose.

Yoongi looks at you pointedly and, before another question can pass his lips, you nod to the light.

“Go ahead. I’m good.” You assure him, putting on the bravest voice you can find.

There’s a click and then, darkness envelops your apartment. You could never have imagined that your apartment could get to this level of darkness. The room was pitch black, you held your hand out in front of your face and you saw nothing but a faint blob.

“Are you ok?” Yoongi calls softly from the other end of the room.

Another shaky breath passes your lips as you attempt to calm yourself.

“Yeah, I’m good. I’m ok.” You assure him but, even you could tell that your tone wasn’t convincing. There’s a shuffling on the other end of the room that causes you to jump out of your skin. “What was that?”

“It’s just me; I’m trying to find my way to the couch.” Yoongi’s voice calms you and, you curse yourself for being so obviously afraid.

“Yeah, I should probably do that too. I don’t want to just stand here…vulnerable…where literally anything can attack me if it wanted to.” You muse casually and, this causes Yoongi to finally break out in his rickety laughter.

“Nothing is going to attack you, just come here and, be careful not to trip over anything. That’s the only real danger you need to worry about.” Yoongi’s voice is practically a whisper and, you use it to guide yourself to your sofa. You finally feel the familiar fabric and make your way around the arm of the couch before, tucking your body into one of the cushions. The heartbeat in your chest hasn’t lessened its pounding but, you feel slightly better that you’re not doing this alone.

“I made it.” You whisper but, Yoongi could already feel you sit down at the opposite end of the couch.

“How are you feeling?” Yoongi whispers back to you and, you feel yourself relaxing slightly at the sound of his voice. He really should be doing ASMR in his free time. Your mouth opens to lie again but, you end up sighing in defeat.

“I’m scared.” It’s the first time either of you have uttered this phrase since beginning your project and, you grow uneasy as you wait for his response.

“That’s ok.” He assures and then he falls silent for a moment. “I know it’s difficult for you. We can stop whenever you want.”

“I’m ok right now; my eyes are starting to adjust.”

Another moment of silence passes between the two of you and, you feel a familiar thickness in the air that seems to occur a lot when you and Yoongi are alone. You close your eyes for a moment, stifling your desire to mention it to him. He had made it very clear on the Ferris Wheel that he wasn’t interested in being with you that way… ‘right now.’

“You can…move closer to me, if you need to. I’m not sure if that will help but, you can try. I don’t mind.” Yoongi whispers and, his offer catches you completely off guard. Should you move closer to him?

Silently, you scoot your body down the length of the couch until you feel your shins meet Yoongi’s feet. He must have been sitting cross-legged on the couch and, now that you’re closer to him, you can make out his posture. He’s sitting with his legs crossed, his body turned to face the direction you were sitting, while his hands rested in his lap.

“Thank you.” You whisper, and you can sort of make out the faint smile ( :] ) on his lips.

“Is it any better?”

“Yeah, it is, actually, thanks.” You repeat your gratitude and you finally start to feel the anxiety subsiding from your chest. Yoongi was warm and, he smelt like berries and the ocean? An odd yet tantalizing combination that, in all honesty, made your stomach tighten. His hands are adorned with a few rings and your eyes squint in curiosity as you try to make out what they look like; regretting that you hadn’t checked them out when the lights were on.

“What are you trying to look at?” Yoongi’s whisper causes you to smile as  you realize that his eyes were also adjusted to the darkness and, he was probably wondering why you were staring intently at his lap.

“Your rings.” You giggle, your head jerking their direction. At your answer, Yoongi’s fingers flutter lightly in response, his head turning down to look at them.

“Oh, yeah, I don’t wear these a lot but, my roommate Namjoon got them for me and, started giving me shit for not liking them. So, I made a point to wear them more.” He explains his tone one of fondness and annoyance. Another laugh passes your lips as you nod in understanding.

“They look nice. Namjoon has good taste.” You compliment, feeling far more comfortable.

“Yeah, he’s alright, I guess.” Yoongi jests but, you know he doesn’t mean what he says, always hiding behind a snarky comment. Before you can speak again, Yoongi holds one of his hands out to you. “You can look at them if you want.”

Your heart stalls a moment as you look at Yoongi’s out stretched hand. The hand that had been on your own lap comes up to bring Yoongi’s closer to your view. The rings were actually beautiful and, you were thankful that the tiniest amount of light had escaped through the curtains so you could properly see them. There were four of them each covered in silver, the engravings depicting the four elements: Earth, fire, water, and air. You smile as your fingers gently examine Yoongi’s rings (hand). His hands were one of your favorite things about him. They were nearly double the size of your own, blue and green veins pushed slightly against the surface, fingernails bitten out of what you could assume as nervousness.  There is a light increase in your heart rate as you continue to examine Yoongi’s hand and, if he had noticed that you stopped looking at his rings, he wasn’t showing it. You tilt his hand up so, its perpendicular to your own, your fingertips only reaching the middle of his fingers, as you place your palm against his hand.

“Your hand is small.” Yoongi whispers but, this time, you detect a different tone from him that you can’t say you’ve ever heard before.

A small smile graces your mouth as you nod.

“Against yours it is.” The whisper that leaves your lips is almost in audible, your eyes find Yoongi’s and, you find him staring back at you, the faint streetlight illuminating his face. The two of you stare at each other as you feel Yoongi’s fingers lace with your own. Your heart beats wildly in your chest as you lick your lips in attempt to compensate for the dryness in your mouth. Without warning, the two of you are leaning towards each other, your shaky breathing intertwining momentarily before, your lips press together. Yoongi audibly lets out a sigh of what literally sounds like relief as he mold his lips against yours. You rise up on your knees lightly, in an attempt to get closer to him, your free hand coming up to gently touch his face. The butterflies that had been taunting you for the past month erupt in your stomach, your heart racketing against your sternum. Yoongi’s hand that was interlaced with yours slips out of your grip and, settles on your waist instead, pulling you into his body. Your lips are beginning to move against one another and, you actually feel Yoongi’s heartbeat rattling against your hand. The thought of you having that effect on him, makes you clench between your thighs. Your body moves to make its way into his lap but, before you make it there, Yoongi is slowly pulling away. He seems reluctant to stop, his swollen lips still pecking against yours as he presses his forehead to your own.

“I don’t want to stop but, I think…”His breathing is too ragged for him to speak properly, and you press your lips to his cheek in an attempt to sooth him, even though, your breathing is just as bad. “We….should slow down….”

You nod in agreement but, relish in the fact that Yoongi is still holding you close to him, your body leaning into his chest.

“You’re right.” You whisper in return, your breath just as shaky as Yoongi maneuvers you so, that you’re tucked into the side of his body. Your hand rests on his chest and you smile as you feel his heart pummeling against the palm of your hand. The two of you lay there for a moment in complete silence, Yoongi’s fingers play with your own  as you wait for the other to say something.

Surprisingly enough, it’s Yoongi who breaks the silence, his raspy whisper penetrating the darkness around you.

“Are you still scared?” He whispers softly, his eyes finding yours.

You look up towards him, a soft smile on your lips.

“No.”

Yoongi smiles back at you and, you can’t help but notice how shy he’s being, his eyes softer than you have ever seen before.

“Good.”

Maybe, the dark wasn’t so bad after all.

[arclightbutterfly]

Light, Mind, and Hope

This is a Homestuck post, so feel free to ignore it-- it’s only marginally tied in with my transition.

EDIT: IM A FUCKING IDIOT I MEANT HEART NOT MIND

Growing up, I feel like Homestuck was an amazing guideline in understanding how I changed as a person and matured into the character that I am today. I feel like every major step in my life, I discover something new about myself, or about the world, and how I interact with it-- something that would be really difficult to describe in non-abstract terms.

It’s honestly amazing how well Andrew Hussie tied in these aspects of my life, and so much more of them that I have probably yet to discover into a webcomic. It implies that he himself must have understood these experiences and revelations, at least to the extent that he might be able to portray how they should look like in terms of maturity.

So far, I feel as if I’ve only really discovered two aspects: Light, and Mind. Recently, I think I’ve begun finding aspects of Hope within myself. And there’s just so many thoughts bouncing around in my head that I just kind of felt like I had to dump them somewhere.

That being said, I’ll start with Light.

Light

I used to think I was a Light player. This is, of course, after I thought I was a Time Player, which was really just like a superficial thing of me wanting to be all cool and cold calculations and whatever. As a Light player in my high school years, I felt as though the aspect truly resonated with me. A Knight of Light, someone who exploits fortune and information for their own objectives.

Information was always my primary weapon. I prided myself on knowing stuff on just about any topic. Whenever a new situation confronted me, I was always ready to whip out my “little-miss-know-it-all” hat and take charge of the situation with the obviously superior decision making I possessed (this is sarcasm) as a result of my knowledge.

And to be fair, it made sense to me. Information helped me through everything. Knowledge truly was power. I never went into any kind of game casually-- I always searched up guides on the perfect strategies, and did extensive research to ensure I would end up with the best possible outcome. I loved learning, and tried to learn as many talents as I could, so I could appear as competent as possible in any number of situations.

And honestly? It’s been pretty helpful, even in college. I love the feeling of being competent and being able to surprise people with hidden knowledge and talents that I just spent all of high school accumulating.

And honestly, it helped me transition, too. When I was faced with the fact that transitioning was going to be impossible for someone like me, I attacked that reality with research. I spent countless hours scouring the internet for sources and information that would ultimately forge my path.

In real life, I think realized Light players have the ability to not only understand things, but to know what things that they must know in order to understand something. They don’t spend as much time on the minutae; they instinctively understand the bare minimum of information that they must consume to produce functional models of concepts in their head. As a Light player, I think that the ability to apply this information is also a huge part of the aspect-- being able to connect concepts and determine applications for them, so that information is always at the forefront of one’s approach to any obstacle.

Mind

But now I know better. At the present moment, I think I identify more as a Mage of Mind. I know I still have that Knight of Light in me-- I think I’ve just matured enough to gain an understanding of another aspect in my identity. Mind is all about identity. It’s about who you are, the decisions you make, and above all of it, knowing why you made those decisions. As a Mage of Mind, my classpect can probably best be summed up as “know thyself.”

And this motto has held to be quite powerful. I spent a lot of time in introspection, throughout my entire life. My identity as a person, as a collection of memories, and as a sum of experiences has been of constant interest to me, ever since around third grade. I have memories marked in my brain as a child with little notes attached, reading “please don’t forget this memory” and “I know what I did now must seem inconsequential to myself in the future, but please don’t let my motivations die.” I continuously come across notes from my past self that I don’t remember writing, with words of encouragement from snapshots of my identity as it was in the past.

One of my primary motivators is the fact that I know my future self is cheering me on. Just as I now wish that I could go back in time and tell myself that everything is going to be alright, I know that in the future, I will be doing the same thing for my present self now. So, I know that I am being encouraged, and do not need to worry about not being able to tell my past self that things will turn out okay-- she already knows.

Similarly, I take care not to brush off my past self’s memories or ambitions. That way, I can be reassured that my future self will not do the same with mine. My existence is a carefully orchestrated cooperation between my various selves at all points during my life, united as a single identity striving towards a common goal.

Consequently, I’ve found introspection to be an incredibly powerful tool. By understanding how I think, I know how to take control of my mind. You know that one post that was like “being able to have total control of your own mind” as a shitty superpower, and everyone chiming in about how cool that would actually be? I feel like introspection is that superpower. The more you understand about yourself, the more you’re able to control yourself. It’s how I managed to get my time management skills. Once I cracked the code of how I learn and store information, studying became a breeze. I literally never go to any of my classes in college, and I’m doing fine. I honestly cannot express how powerful being able to understand how you learn is. It just unlocks a whole level of processing power in your brain that’s honestly just ridiculous.

In addition, it’s helped me understand other people. I used to have a parlor trick in high school, where I’d try to read someone’s personality / memories. By looking at their behavior, I was eerily good at figuring out specific memories or events in their lives that triggered those behaviors. I had a couple of my skeptical friends test me, and I was surprised to find that even with them, I had a fair bit of accuracy. As a Mind player, I feel as though one of my abilities is to recognize when people around me are on paths similar to ones that I took, but haven’t quite finished yet (this is not to say that I have finished more paths of maturity or anything-- just that we all are on different levels of various paths, and I happen to be able to see those who are on paths that I have already gone down) and understand everything about their personality that’s tied to that path based on my own state of mind when I was at that point myself.

Mind players, I think, have the power of being competent. The aspect of Mind is about unlocking the potential of the self, and discovering what you can do when you push yourself to more and more of your full ability.

Hope

I’m rereading Homestuck right now, and as I’m going through it, I’m starting to notice something else that I resonate with: Hope. Hope is positive energy, but in Homestuck, it also represents the ability to change reality. I’ve always felt a drive within myself that constantly drives me to improve and make a difference in the world around me, but even though I often describe this particular brand of motivation as “spite” or “anger at the world,” I’m not really angry. I’m hurt, for sure. And I know that the pain I’ve felt drives me. But it doesn’t drive me in a bitter way. It drives me because I want to make this world better.

My small group leader recently told me that despite the things that I’ve been through, I always manage to stay positive, but not in a manner that resembles naive optimism. More of an ability to take negative experiences and transform them into positive expressions. A refusal to allow suffering to change me for the worst. A desire to cling on to my humanity.

I found a note written to myself from the past today. It was a note written as a “personality override--” a code that I keep with myself to allow irrational decisions in my reasoning.

(As an aside, I’ve found that permitting controlled irrationality in your decision making process is a fantastic way to program your own mind. I have override protocols that I tell myself to follow without question, even when illogical, and it’s allowed me to stay constant through everything, and cling on to the things that make me who I am. It’s what lets me hang on to memories most people would have let go a long time ago, and feel a connection to myself in the future because of it. There’s other dumb stuff too, like a code I follow for if I end up time traveling back and talking to myself or something-- I have a passcode I’ve never said out loud or written down, which I’ve had since sixth grade, that I can use to verify that someone from the future is in fact myself.)

The note told me to fight off the desire to form defensive mechanisms like isolation. To stick to my personality as someone who loves no matter the circumstances. A combination of my identity as a Mind player and some aspects of myself as a player of Hope.

And I’ve found that as an aspect, Hope represents that ability for that positive energy to create change. I used that spiteful/positive/loving energy to create a non-profit organization in my sophomore year. I used it to drive my exploits as a player of light. That energy drives me to shape the world. I live for moments when people tell me that I remind them of a protagonist. I know I’m going to change the world-- because I have to.

Hope players, in this world, have the ability to shape reality to their will. Things always go their way, because it has to. They will stop at nothing to realize their dreams. Hope is overflowing, desperate motivation and drive and passion.

As I fight through my life, I’m beginning to understand more and more of what that means. I don’t know when I’m going to die. But until I do, I’m not going to stop fighting for what’s right. Trans fucking rights. I’m going to make sure no one else has to go through what I did in my childhood if it kills me.

Anyway, that’s my little spheal on that I guess. If anyone wants to understand how my brain works-- this post right here is a pretty succinct summary.

Hey, if I ever get amnesia, can someone please show me this post? Thanks.

[lilyswritings]

Crash and Burn

I WILL NOT BE WRITING A PART TWO (pls see this post). Thank you.

anonymous requested: 1) Could you write a really angsty one shot with Doctor Strange where you knew him before he got into the car accident and you always helped him with his paperwork and things that he deemed 'weren't important enough for him', and liked him, but he never noticed you because he was more interested in Christina. So after he gets into the accident, you're the one who helps take care of him when Christie needs time to rest, but he always thinks that it was only Christie taking care of him because a 2) lways asleep when you took care of him. And then when he gets into that argument with Christie, a similar argument happens between you and Stephen, and he says a lot of hurtful things since he doesn't know that you're the one who has been helping him this whole time. And then when he becomes Doctor Strange, he finally realises how badly he's treate you all these years. I AM SO SO SORRY FOR MAKING THIS SO LONG AND IM A REALLY SHITTY REQUESTER BUT THIS HAS BEEN IN MY MIND FOR SO LONG AND I SUC 3) K AT WRITING AND I LOVE YOU SO MUCH YOU DON'T HAVE TO WRITE THIS I'M JUST RANTING AND I'M A REALLY SHITTY PERSON I'M SO SORRY BYE HAVE A WONDERFUL DAY <3

author’s note: Okay, when I first got this request (back when Doctor Strange CAME OUT) I fell in love with it and have been working on it ever since! I’m sorry it took over a year to write, and it still doesn’t have the ending you wanted, but I’m a perfectionist and I’m only JUST NOW happy with how it turned out. MAJOR ANGST WARNING!!! please enjoy!

warnings: car crash, injuries, Stephen being an asshole, description of hospital

word count: 1,897

Stephen Strange x Reader

   Strange and Palmer. Palmer and Strange. Not Strange and Y/L/N. That’s how it has always been. Christine and Stephen, even when they aren’t dating, act like they’ve been married for years -- they have a perfect synchronisation, they balance each other out and fit together like two pieces of a puzzle. So where does that leave you? 

   The background, of course. It doesn’t matter that you’d graduated the same medical school at the same time as the both of them, or that you are highly skilled in most fields of medicine. You file the papers, deal with the ‘boring’ patients, and stand in the background, awaiting your orders.

   It’s not like they ignore you -- being ignored and not being payed any attention are two different things. You feel especially lonely one Tuesday morning, right before your shift ends, sitting at your desk and typing up medical reports on one of Palmer’s recent patients. You slowly tune out, fingers typing monotonously as your foot taps against the ground, awaiting that small chime on your phone to signal your shift end. Just as the alarm goes off, and your heart soars, you’re pulled back into reality as Stephen rushes around the corner. 

   “Y/N?” He calls, and your brows tug together. 

   “Yes?” You ask, hopefulness in your voice. Are you needed? Does he want you to help him operate? But no, everything crashes when he opens his mouth again. 

   “Where’s Christine?”

   You try your hardest not to visibly deflate, turning and paging her. “Wing 3.” You answer, curtly, and off he runs again. You sigh, printing the forms, stamping them, and sliding them onto the office desk and you walk to grab your coat and scarf. You hear a small commotion in another wing, but shake your head as you wrap the scarf around your neck and exit the hospital, feet moving quickly to take you home as you fight the heaviness in your eyelids. When you finally get back to your small apartment -- probably a fourth (or less) of the size of Stephen’s -- you flop onto your bed, your eyes shutting with the dread of another long night shift. 

   It isn’t too long before you wake up again, but when you do, the sky is dark, and heavy, loud rain lashes at your windows. You yawn, turning on your lights, and shift your computer onto your lap to type up some reports. Halfway through one, though, Stephen calls you on your work number. 

   “-Hello?” You answer, confusion coating your words. 

   “Y/N? What have you got for me for tomorrow?” He asks, voice smooth (and cocky) as ever, and you mentally slap yourself as you realize he wanted notes by the time he had to head to his talk. You quickly pull up the pages. 

   “Right, well, we have a woman who had a seizure shortly after experimenting with--” 

   You can hear the boredom in his voice. “Next.” You roll your eyes, flipping the page. 

   “Man whose spinal cord seized up, tugging on his tendons and--” 

   “You remember that I am a neurosurgeon, right?” You shake your head. 

   “Stephen, you can’t just write off all these-” You cut yourself off at the sound of an engine revving comes through the line, and narrowed eyes flick over to the window displaying the torrential downpour outside. 

   “Steve, you’re not actually driving in this weather, are you?” 

   He scoffs, “Of course not!”. A beat, and you raise an eyebrow, even though he can’t see you. 

   “For a doctor, you care awfully little about your life.” You try to joke, but find your heart too worried to joke. He chuckles on the end of the line, and then it goes quiet. 

   “Send me some patient files, I’ll take a look at them.” You shake your head, dragging the files into a folder on your laptop for later. 

   “Not right now -- I’ll send them to you later, after your talk.” He scoffs, and you giggle. 

   “What are you, my mother? Don’t you trust me enough to--” 

   The deafening screech of tires fills the line, the sound of metal crashing into metal causing you to jump. Eyes widening, you push yourself up off of your bed, still clutching the phone. “Stephen?” The quiet that greets you causes panic to rush through you, and you find your shaking fingers ending the call and dialing 911. 

   “Shit shit shit shit...” You repeat, running out of your bedroom to grab your coat and slip on your shoes as you explain everything to the operator. You run all the way to the hospital, knowing you can’t drive in this weather, and when you arrive an emergency helicopter has just landed, picking you up and speeding away on the route of where Stephen was headed. The rest of the night passes in a blur. 

   The sight of his fancy car face down in the water, the cold nipping at you as you run into the water, wading towards the car and trying to open the door, desperately. The ambulance taking the both of you back to the hospital. Christine’s stupid voicemail answering you every time you call her. That goddamn heart monitor, a constant background noise. And finally -- Stephen, his hands impaled with shards of metal, a bruise forming around his eyes, and blood pouring from his forehead. 

   Your hands shake horribly as you wheel him to the operating room, watching the nurses scramble to find a surgeon. When they come back with Dr. Anders, a very new doctor with little experience, you grit your teeth, pulling on your gloves, and take on the task of saving your (very dear to you) colleague yourself. 

   You did great, they tell you. Better than Palmer could have. You saved him. You did better than any other doctor we have, they say, but you know it isn’t true. Stephen could have done better, if you hadn’t -- if he hadn’t been so careless. You don’t wait next to him, for him to wake up. You can’t face the inevitable overwhelming disappointment, when he wakes up and realizes his hands are beyond repair. 

   You find yourself in the cafeteria, eyes bleakly staring into the black coffee in front of you, your head in your hands. You catch the empathetic glance of an older woman, a few tables away, but you can’t bring yourself to acknowledge her. 

   You watch Christina run past you, towards Stephen’s room, and scoff as you see Nick enter the cafeteria just behind her, a nice suit on. He catches your glance, but you just look back into the swirling darkness of the coffee. You punch in your card, taking a day off, and go home.

   In the next few months, you manage to bring yourself to stop by Stephen’s almost every day. You pick up the insane brochures for medical facilities that could possibly save him, the ones he leaves behind everywhere, and when you get home you spend hours researching flights, costs, treatments, and therapy. 

   You anonymously pay for a treatment for him, one just outside the city, and you accompany him there when he thinks he was able to pay for it himself. It sets you back a month’s rent, but he seems just that little bit less broken after it, so you find comfort in it. 

   You don’t bring him food often -- you figure out that mealtimes are when he and Christina spend time together. You just do the anonymous work, like convincing visiting doctors to look at his file, or paying for certain medication and delivering it to him, claiming it was free or off his paycheck. He never seems to notice that he’s too broke to afford it, and just accepts that he got it and that’s all that matters. But everything seems to crash around you, one night when you bring up the accident.

   “Look, Stephen...” You start, sitting on the couch as he tries to write his name, over and over, the scribble of the pen emanating around the room. “We need to discuss what happened, that night.” 

   He looks up, dropping the pen, and curses. “What night?” He asks, almost sounding bored, and you breathe in deeply. “The... The accident.” He stops, his jaw clenching, and stands up abruptly. 

   “What’s there to talk about? I fell off a cliff. Some doctor butchered my hands. And now I’m trying to reverse that.” You flinch when he says butchered, your fears creeping up around you. 

   “We need to talk about... The details. Why you fell, if--” He stops you. 

   “No, we don’t. Why are you doing this?” You almost scoff at the question, standing up and walking towards him. 

   “Because I care about you!” You admit.

   “You care about me? Don’t kid yourself, Y/N, you’ve never cared about me!” You step back, horrified, but he keeps going. “I have money, I know that’s why you hang around.” Your mouth gapes as you register the insult. 

   “Of course that’s not -- I’ve stuck around you through everything!” You shout, and he turns and points at you, accusatory finger raised. 

   “What about when I got into the crash? What about when you were nowhere to be found when Christine was operating on me and--” You scoff, eyes brimming with unshed tears. 

   “Christine wasn’t on duty that night!” You yell, causing him to stop and stumble back, but you push on. 

   “Christine came in later that night to sit by you, after I had spent hours in the rain trying to find you and pull you out of your sinking car. After I operated on you, because they were going to let an almost intern do it. Christine was on leave that night on a date with Nick!” You practically scream the last part, searing tears finally falling onto your face. 

   Stephen has an unreadable expression on his face as he watches you fall apart in front of him, but somehow he still manages to hurt you more. 

   “Maybe Christine could have saved my hands -- You’re practically just a secretary.” You inhale, sharply, mouth opening and closing at the harsh words. He seems to realize his mistake, that he took it too far, but when he reaches for you you shove his hand away. 

   “Y/N...” He mutters, and you shake your head. 

   “No, Stephen. You don’t get to do that to me. Seven years, I’ve stood by you -- defended you, watched out for you, found cases worth your precious time. I’m done.” You punctuate the last word with a jab of your finger, spinning around to grab your things. 

   "You’re a real piece of shit, you know.” You mutter, turning and walking towards the doors. You stand outside, and just before the door closes you say, “Goodbye, Stephen.” 

   It’s pathetic, really. You sit in your car, watching the rain run down your windshield as the tears run down your face, for the most part of an hour. At one point you even bang your hands on the steering wheel, honking at a poor passerby who jumps and starts running. 

   Your eyes are raw, and tired, just like you feel, but it’s stupid, and you know that. You have to stop. Finally, you wipe your eyes and calm yourself, pulling out of the space and zooming away from Stephen’s apartment building -- you don’t return after that.

[abion1992]

The ashen one

                                PROLOGUE

When the age of the ancients ended and the fire was born, three creatures rised and within the flames discovered the lords souls of power, Nito the first of the dead claimed the soul of the death, the witch of Izalith and her daughters of chaos claimed the soul of life and lastly Gwyn the lord of sunlight who claimed the soul of light.

But it is said a fourth soul was later found by the furtive Pygmy, the ancestor of humankind and god of darkness, It is said that he hid the soul away and has passed it down to his ancestors for centuries, tough this we are unsertain of since his story is mostly forgotten by time.

the soul of the three lords challenged the ancients in a war that vanquished the dragons and brought in the golden age of fire. When Seath the scaleless betrayed his own and brought fort the knowledge of dragonscales,the source for immortality.

But the power of the lord souls began to soon fade away as Gwyn's unwillingness to end the age of fire gave birth to the hollows, those that became undead soon became insane and now roam the lands in search for blood and flesh to sate their hunger.

But from the darkest of dungeons an undead rose to ring the bells of awakening and rekindle the flame to prevent the dark age. Many challenges and creatures of horrors would the undead face, the journey was not an easy one as the lords one by one tried to end the undead, but were met with their own ends as a result.

At the end only one lord was left standing, Gwyn. Tough his former glory had been long lost after ages of protecting the flame,he made a worthy battle for the undead, but ultimately had to fall as all the others.

But then the unthinkable happened, the undead consumed by power and bloodlust would not link the flame as the prophecy had told, but instead left it to burn out into ashes and became a dark lord.

And so only darkness remain and with it the wait for the end of the world. This is our fate unless a new undead will rise and rekindle the flame again, thus the prophecy will be completed and the age of darkness will be prevented.

And so a new undead will rise to light the flame, but will it end this long night or prolong it? Only the undead will know.

                                      CHAPTER 1

I woke up, dazed and confused and covered with ash, could my deepest fear be true? Had I rised again as an undead? I pray the gods will be merciful, only in legends from long ago had I hoped they would stay, but nay this fate had now bestowed me. In my deepest despair their came a sound from above my prison cell wich I had woken from, a voice clear as it could be. « are you not yet hollow? Then we are in luck, here grab this key and meet me outside, but be careful there are other undead nearby, altough I fear they may not have their wits about them as you seem to have. There was a sound of metal hitting the floor and I could see clear infront of me a key, I knew not if this voice was friendly or not, but I kew I had no other choice, If I die then maybe this curse will end and I might stay dead.

I picked up the key and tried it on the lock on the door to my cell, It swung open as the key gave away a faint clicking sound. The hallway was dark and empty, but in the far distance I could hear the moans of the undead nearby. In fear of giving my position away I walked with slow and steady steps down the hallway, searching for the voice I had heard in the prison cell when suddenly a ball of fire came rushing down, hitting me with full force and bringing me down to the ground. My journey had only begun and I was already dying. As I lost conciusnes I could hear that voice again from earlier « such a pity, I guess I should have warned you about the traps»

                                       CHAPTER 2

As an undead you will rise and as an undead you will die, but death will never grant you your freedom, only the madness and bloodlust that follows truly will.

I awoke from my slumber with the feeling of death on my mind, I could literally taste it in my mouth at the tip of my tongue, but death had not grasped me, I was again alive, how could this be? I faintly remembered being struck by a barell in flames just a few moments ago. What I saw around me reminded me of a camp, what I saw were ruins made of stone and in the midle on the ground was a sword engulfed in flames, as I moved towards it, a familiar voice I had heard before came from my left side. « hello there my friend» As I turned around I could see where that voice came from, it was a knight or what was left of one, cause the knight was not as heroic or muscular as one would imagine, but instead a broken man, a knight that had fallen from grace long ago, I did not believe he could lift a sword into battle even if he wanted to, those days was long past him.

« dont you worry, first time you awake from death is always the strangest, but it wont be the first time I promise you that, just look at it as waking up from a bad dream, a bad dream indeed»

« I believe we have not yet been introduced to each other, oh how silly of me, my name is Eon, former knight and protector of Gwynewere the princess of sunlight, you may not have heard of me, I can't really blame you, I was overtroned by Ornstein and Smough, but I can't be mad, why should I? To be overtroned by such honored knights should be an honor to me, but yet I feel nothing. It may be the curse slowly creeping in,it does take us all in the end, it always does, but you may wonder why did I rescue you from that prison cell, why are you an undead? So many questions and so little time, time you really dont have, unless the tought of being a bloodthirsty hollow interests you, then by all means just wait it out or you could maybe do something for me, after all why not use the time you have on something useful while your mind is still strong.?

Confused by this knight that went by the name of Eon I struggled to decide if he spoke of reason or was simply mad, insane or both. Yet I only asked « why me?»

Eon laughed heartidly before he replied. « If not you then who else? Do you think I am in any shape to take on any adventure? Those days are sadly behind me, short it may have been, maybe not even worth bragging about.....werry well you do as you wish, but should the wait for the curse to settle in be to tiresome, then consider ringing two bells. The first one lies high up on a tower beyond the undead parish, the other one deep below the labyrinth of Blighttown, but be ware I hear it is particularly poisonous this time of the year wich if im completely honest cant even remember, strange isnt it...to forget both time and place, a strange feeling indeed...now be on your way and maybe our paths may meet again.»

And in a flash of light and smoke he was gone. Two bells, why did it sound so familiar? Like a tale I had been told  long ago. I could not be sure if the knight had spoken the truth, but I had a feeling that ringing the bells would only be the beginning of my adventure.

Two bells of awekening needs to chime for only then  the undeads fate in this world will be known.

                                          CHAPTER 3

I needed a weapon, a sword, an axe or anything in between, going out in the fields without anything would just leed to another death and the feeling of waking up again with the smell and taste of death was something I would not want to experience again, but what Eon had said about waking up from the dead would be common in time, I still wondered if it could be true, by the gods I hoped not.

In my search for a weapon fit enough to atleast bash some skulls I came upon what looked like to once have been a forge, there was steel hammers, iron and coul scattered around a big muscular body that once must have been the blacksmith that owned this forge. He could not make me a weapon anymore I am sad to say, but among the rubble of stones and bones I did find a usable steel sword, a brown cloak and an iron shield, luck was with me it would seem.

I had not travelled far until I met my first victim. An undead was standing around the corner, spitting and making gargly sounds. I moved slowly behind it, making sure it did not hear me. When I stood directly behind the undeads back  I trhust my sword trough it, It happened naturally and I never gave it much tought, as an untrained man of combat I found the common feeling of the killing to be strange, but did I have any sympethy for the undead? I can not say I did, the beast was once human, true, but as an undead was it still to be considered human or not?

The dead body fell on the ground, smuldering into ashes and with it came a glow of light surrounding my hand before it vanished. What kind of black magic was this? I wondered in my solitude that was suddenly broken from a voice from above,  with the sunlight in my eyes I could faintly see what in my mind resembled a woman, She wore a heavy armor, a greatsword on her back, but no helmet, her black raven hair was flowing free in the light wind.

« Well met friend, I see you are experiencing the souls power for the first time, dont worry, it will make you stronger and you are gonna need it, there is a giant beast in that castle not far from here, I guess you are seeking to ring the bells, you will have to slay the beast in order to move on, I wish you luck.»

I called for her as she dissapeared wanting to know what kind of beast she was talking about, but to also ask who she was and why she could not come with me.  The castle was not far away and with steady and firm steps I moved forward to face the beast I had to kill.

The entrance door was big, really big, shattered and broken, so the way in would not be something I had to figure out since there was a big crack I could shimmy my way trough. Well inside I was met with a big empty room, the air was tick and only the faint sound of some crows resting on the beam high above could be heard. Then there was a loud crash as the beast I had been told about crashed its bottom on the ground infront of me. It was a hideous beast, fat and covered with loose skin and scars. On its back were wings so small that they could have been on a fairy, like those I was told about when I was a young kid.

In its solid and muscular arms it was carrying a big hammer and as my eyes adjusted and took in the huge beast's presence it swung the hammer sideways, hitting me with great force, the air went out of me as I hit the ground. Weak and beaten I got up, holding my sword in my shivering and sweaty hands, waiting for the next attack.

The swing came hard and low as I managed to jump away, This gave me a free path to the beast's legs, I took my advantage without thinking, stabbing my sword in the heel of one of the  legs, bringing it down to its knees. I climbed up its back and with great power and strenght managed to stick my blade into the beast's head. With a growl it fell down  with a loud bang and stayed still.

I had been lucky, there were no other explenation for why I had survived, the beast crumbled away in ash and just as the undead from before, gave away a light that dissapeared in my hand. Oddly enough I felt stronger, I was no longer tired from the battle,it felt like it had never happened.

« Good work my friend» a voice said. I searched the room to find the source of that voice and was met with the presence of Eon. « You are the first one to kill the beast in one try, normally other ashen ones I have seen dies atleast three times before they slay it, but we have no time to celebrate, the first bell awaits»

he was gone in a flash of smoke and left me wondering why he named me an ashen one and that he mentioned other ones before me. I was eager for answers and moved up the tower were the first bell was waiting, I moved the mecanism and it rang loud and clear, but when the sound began to fade I was still just as confused as I had been before.

                                         CHAPTER 4

Ding dong the bell will ring, but will it bring a new beginning or an even bitter end?

The air was still, everything was quiet and my body was as tense as it could be. I waited for the answers I had been seeking, but none came. I could not be dissapointed, altough the gods know how much I wanted to be. This was after all just the first bell, but there was another one waiting deep below the swamps and I had a feeling the path to that bell would not be as easy as this one.

With heavy steps I moved down the stairs and out of the castle, I was wondering about where to go next, when my eyes lay opon the woman I had met earlier. She was standing against a pillar, arms crossed, her eyes were shining with a clear blue color,something I found unusual considering that everything else I had seen so far was either dead or undead. This woman was none of that, she was the most beatiful thing I had seen.

« We meet again friend, You fought well and now the first bell has been rung. I wanted to congratulate you and I wish we could celebrate, but that would be impossible, Nor do I have any drinks and nor do we have any time to drink it if I by some coincidence  did have some.»

She gave away a faint smile, I admired her, to be so positive in a dead world as this. How did she do it? How could anyone do it?

« Who are you? The first words I had uttered to anyone, came out like a whisper, I was even shocked to hear my own voice, since it was normally heard in my own mind.

« I am Evelyn. A fellow undead as you,we share the same path, but as you seek to either link or burn out the flame, my path is far more personal. My brother once was an undead like us, he too was destined to find the flame, he came so close only to find it and then just dissapear, I am here to find out what happened, to get a closure and maybe even find peace.»

« Then....would you join me?» I asked

« Im afraid not, but please do not despair, I will still help as best I can, but the journey must be yours alone, its hard to explain, but that is the way it has always been, Many chosen undead's have linked the flame for centuries,but everytime the dark age returns and a new undead is chosen.»

« but, why Link the flame If it is only to prolong the inevitable?» I asked.

Evelyn got quiet, deep in tough it seemed before she answered

« I have never tought about it that way. You may be right, but why then have you ringed the bell and why do you still continue? You could just stop and let the curse take you. Im afraid that is a choice for you to take, my path is set and I know why I am here.»

I was unsure, conflicted with my mind, but she was right why did I continue, was there something else I did not see? Or was it as hopeless as I had tought?

« what ever you decide to do, decide quickly. I do hope our path meets again, it is not everyday you meet an undead, still willing to talk and even ask questions about their meaning in this world, so long.»

And with that we parted ways.  I considered turning back and forget everything, leave this quest behind, but why stop now when I had already started and the power I felt was good. I had never felt so strong before, was this the curse or was I going mad? If I stopped now there was a chance I would never find out.

And then my journey led me to the swamps and the horrors within, many a death I was faced with, but each time,I woke up near a campfire made by a sword, but strange as that was with each death I got weaker, but when I got back to what had killed me I found to my suprise a glowing light, not like the ones from before, this one was bigger and when it dissapeared in my hand I again felt stronger, much stronger than before, I was now convinced that this had to be the curse and that maybe my quest was somehow linked to lift it. Altough I had few answers one thing became painfully clear. what Eon had said about death becomming common was indeed true.

                                                                            CHAPTER 5

No man can claim to have been truly afraid until he have seen death in the eye and survived. If that was true then I was the bravest man in this land, but the feeling of fear never came to me, for with each death I suffered and the stronger I got with each creature I killed, my feelings and memories slowly faded. It was like my essence of humanity slowly got erased from my mind. It is a terrefying feeling and even more terrefying, I started to forget the simple things, wich day was it? Had I eaten or not and what was my name? Why had this  happened to me? Why did I have to be the chosen one?

The more I ventured into the depths, the more unhuman I became, my killings became quicker and easier, and my lust for blood was now instead becomming a lust for power, a power I did not know,but a power I wanted and needed desperately. When I reached the depths beyond the swamp full of poison, gigantic crabs and rats, only darkness surrounded me. It was clear that no one either dead, undead or alive had been here for a long time.

Suddenly in the distance there came a faint light, much like those I wanted. I moved closer, sword in hand and ready to kill when I met the eyes of a small and naked little creature. It was hairless and skinny. It looked at me with a look not of fear, but of sadness, it was like it knew it was beaten and just waited for me to give it the killing blow. My hearth sinks when I write this, but blind with lust for the light the creature held I slayed it without thinking and claimed the power it had protected.

But it was something different with this one, It made me not stronger, but weaker or dare I say normal. I felt cold and hurt from all my wounds and to my horror I could now for the first time see I was bleeding, something I never had felt or seen in my battles so far. But the time for wondering was soon disrupted by cryes from the undead as the whole place got swarmed with them. I raised my sword, but it felt heavier than usual, I started killing them as they rushed towards me, but their numbers soon overcame me and I was knocked out.

« are you alright my friend? Came a voice that made me wake up. I  was alive, but it did not feel like I had died, stranngely it felt like I had woken from a dream and not a bad one. Had I been sleeping?

« Take it easy, you have been out for the last hour, when I found you, you were bleeding and uncouncius, I dragged you to the nearest bonfire and just waited for you to wake up.»

My wounds made me feel sour, but as I lay my eyes upon my savoir I saw the woman I admired, It was Evelyn.

« thank you» I managed to say trough my bloodied jaw.

She moved beside me, took a good and curious look at me before she asked     « why are you not undead anymore? You look alive.»

I told her about the creature I had killed, about how greedy for power I was and how I could feel everything now, even my feelings for her wich I did not dare tell for fear of what she might say. She listened patiently to every word I said and when I finished, the silence lasted a long while, It was strange, I felt safe and at peace.

« Can you feel it too?» I asked.

She looked at me with a disturbed look, « feel what? I can't feel anything»

« Do you not feel the peace, the warmt from the fire?»

« as I said I can't feel anything, it is strange that you have all these feelings all of a sudden, whatever that creature you killed protected it was not a normal soul, it must have been far more powerful.»

I dont know why, but the more we talked the more I wanted to be with her, I did not want to be alone again, I was tired from it, but if she truly could not feel anything, did that mean she could not feel love?

« Can you tell me more about your brother?» I asked

« I cant remember much sadly, but he was kind and wise.»

« do you love him?» I asked

I could see she got uncomfortable as she fikled with her hands and starting poking the fire with a stick.

« I dont know, should I? Love, that's something I can't remember if I have ever felt.

Saddened by this answer I decided not to ask her anymore questions, It was clear the undead curse was taking its toll on her. I wanted to do something, but what could I do?

« I should get going, the bell is not far from here.»

She stood up and was about to leave when I shouted « wait!»

She turned around and looked at me

« I will find a cure you know, I can maybe save us both.» I wanted to believe it, but her answer made things painfully clear.

« dont give promises you may not be able to keep.»

She was right, how could I know if there was a cure or not?

« before you leave, do you remember the name of your brother?» I asked

« that is strangely the only one clear thing I can remember of him. His name is Eon.»

She left and I could not get that name out of my mind. Where had I heard it before?

                                         CHAPTER 6

The second bell chimed clear and loud. I felt accomplished and proud to have come so far, but my answers was still not  in sight. I began questioning my meaning here yet again, but not as much as before. For I understood better now than ever with this new power I had obtained that my quest was not simply to save the world, but maybe save myself and those that was still alive. I wanted to lift the curse, I wanted to help and I wanted to be with Evelyn. Every tought I had about her made me feel both warm and sad, why did the curse have to take her aswell? Was there no one that was spared?

I came upon a cliffside and my path seemed to end at first untill with a scream like a thousand dead souls there infront me was the biggest crow I had ever seen. It swiftly came down and grabbed me with its claws, I tought my end was near for good this time, but when it dropped me on a long stairwell leading up to a castle I was both relieved to be alive and amazed by the arcithecture and scope of the building.

This must have been the old castle of a once great king, but all I saw now was the remains of a fallen glory, nearly destroyed and covered with death and sorrow. As I entered the halls, no guards was there to stop me, no festivities or royalties of any kind, all I saw was skeletons  of once great soldiers, One was big and one was skinny. The big one lay beside a great hammer and the other a greatsword was stabbed in its back. What could have killed them I wondered as there was no marks or cuts to be seen, It simply looked like they were both in a deep sleep.

I entered another big door and what I saw was both majestic and different from everything else I had seen. On a big couch there lay a woman. She had a beautiful white dress and a Tiara on her head. She looked at me with a calm and reassuring smile as I knelt before her, knowing that this must be the queen of this castle, but why rule a castle were there were no one to command?

« Rise, ashen one, it has been centuries since I last saw one of your kind, but you look different then any other that has come before you. Are you alive? How can this be? If not the gods of darkness has granted you the soul of humankind?

« I....dont know what you are talking about your majesty.»

« It is strange indeed, but you would not have come this far if the gods did not have a bigger plan for you, one I myself cant answer im afraid, but I will tell you what I know, but first an introduction is at place, my name is Gwynewere, princess of sunlight and ruler of Anor Londo, this castle you now are in, what is your name oh chosen one?»

« my name is Adolin your majesty» I did not know how I remembered my name, but I did.

« greetings Adolin, you may speak your mind freely»

I kept kneeling, not knowing if that was the righ thing to do or not, but asked her my questions:

« I want to know if I can lift this undead curse and what my true purpose in this world is»

« You are not the first one to ask me this Adolin, but I can only tell you what I have told those before you. You are an chosen undead, your destiny is to link the flame and prevent the dark ages return. You must ultimately succeed our lord Gwyn and avert further undead sacrifices, It is your duty in fact and all the other chosen undeads that have come before you has fulfilled that duty with great success, but the dark age always returns no matter what, It is an evil dark cycle, but what else  can we do but the same thing we have done for centuries? I do not know if this will lift the curse you are talking about, since no one has been conserned or even asked about such a curse, I hope this answers some of your questions.»

It did answer some, but I was still confused and dissapointed that the princess did not have any answer for the curse and I began to fear that I was doomed.

« Your majesty, If what you say is true, then how can you be alive? Are you an undead aswell, does the curse affect you?»

« I am just an illusion of what I used to be. I am indead dead, but no curse have ever affected me. You see me only because you are the chosen one, I can only guide those that are chosen undeads. You may not get all your questions answered,but the duty is yours to fulfill none the less. I will send you to the kiln of the first flame and there you will have to face your greatest choice,

but that is a choice only you can make. Normally you would have to seek out  the souls of the chaos lords, but as I see you are no ordinary undead and equipped with the soul of humankind, things have changed.»

I bowed deep, showing my gratitude for the answers as she spoke again: «I beg you Adolin, succeed lord Gwyn, and inheriteth the worlds fire. We have only thee.»

As she spoke those words a circle of light surrounded my feets and in the next moment I stood infront of the entrance of a great tower or atleast what was left of it, the structures were beyond repair and the roof had collapsed, but from that roof it came a faint beam of light, it had to be the flame. I was about to enter the entrance and was ready to face the ultimate choice, when I saw to my right, under a rock an armor I recognised. I moved closer,  lifted the rock away and was met with the face of the woman I loved.

                                        CHAPTER 7

« Evelyn! Please wake up,  dont leave me!» I screamed , holding her lifeless body in my arms. Tears were falling down my face, I could not let her die, she could not die. Not now when I was so close to end it all.

A sudden gasp came from her and in joy I was relieved to see her alive, but that joy soon got crushed as I in horror could see that the woman I loved  had become hollow. She waved uncontrollably with her arms as I tried to calm her to no avail. Her eyes met mine and they were no longer a sight of beauty, but a sight of true hate and bloodlust.

I would not belive it, This could not be reality, but the more I sat there, fighting for control, the more I realised that she was now just an another creature like all the others I had killed. I managed to grab her dagger from her belt and as my hearth broke in true sadness I slit her troath. I could not see her like this, but I took solitude in knowing that her soul would be a part of me as she crumbled away in my hands until only her ashes remained.

My quest was nearly complete, but why should I even complete it now? Evelyn, I realised, had been the true reason for why I had pushed forward despite my doubtness. I wanted to save her and myself, but mostly her. I wished I had told her my feelings for her, now it was too late and my quest seemed pointless to finish, but I could not fail the princess, I could not fail the human kind, I was destined to save them. In the end I really had no other choice.

As I entered the entrance to the tower I could see the flame burning faintly. I had decided to sacrifice myself so that others could live, my life was pointless anyway, This had been my purpose all along, to die for the human kind. As I was about to complete the task a figure emarged from the shadows and it was then I remembered the name  of the one Evelyn had searched for, her long lost brother Eon.

« So here you are my friend, You finally are  at your journeys end. Now tell me, what will you do? Will you sacrifice yourself and prevent the dark age, despite that it will no matter what return? Or will you just walk away and become a dark lord and rule this werry land? A land that is only inhabited by death and tragedy? It is a hopeless choice no matter what isnt it? I made my choice long ago, I became a dark lord, because why would I leave such power behind? Why save a world that cannot be saved either way?

« Eon, the power has consumed you, you are a ruler of nothing as you say, so why then are you still here? Why do you prevent the chosen ones to succeed, why did you even free me from my cell?

« I am a ruler of death, that is clear, but the power I have I cannot erase, I am nothing without it and the reason for me freeing you was simply to have another worthy opponent, You really think I helped you all this way to succeed, no, I helped you to get so far only so that I could kill you for sport, but now as I can see you have regained your humanity I will give you an offer. Join me and we can rule together, we will create a new world, the way we want it to be. Why save the humankind the old way as it is clearly not helping? The world needs to change, the rules need to change, the old ways must be changed»

« I  dont believe you Eon, with a dark lord as a leader you would surely bring the humankind to its knees just for your amusement and lust for power»

« You fool! Have you not heard anything of what I have told you? Dont you see I am trying to save the humankind? Just as you are seeking to do aswell? We have the same goal, I am just offering another way. You cannot be as blind as I think you are.»

« I am sorry Eon, but I cannot join you. I will not rule a world just for power, my way may not prevent the dark age forever, but atleast then the humankind will not be forced into a leadership they may not want. And when the time comes for a new chosen undead to take this journey It will have to make the same choise as me, as everyone that has walked this path. The human race should be able to choose and handle on their own terms.»

« Then why may I ask you does the human race let it be up to only one chosen undead, why could not all choose?

« Because Eon, they have no choice and how can you know for sure that what you are offering will prevent the dark age for ever? Maybe there are no better ways here.

« then why should it matter what you choose to do oh chosen one? Why not take a chance?

I  lowered my head, knowing it was pointless, my quest was pointless, this world was doomed no matter what, but would I give it away  to a corrupt leader like Eon?

I raised my sword in a fighting stance as I said: « then we should fight for it, it is clear we can not come to an agreement and a world with two leaders both corrupted with power can only lead to even a longer tragic period and with even more innocent lives going to waste.»

« By the gods you are indeed blind, the power is destroying you aswell,  you may be right that the world is doomed no matter what, but I cannot be sure untill I have tried my way. I will make your death swift, no one has beaten me in combat and you will not be the one to finish the job»

Eon raised his sword from his scabbard and raised it high in a glorius stance as it became engulfed in flames. His eyes returned to me, his look gave me a cold sweat and as our swords clashed with each other, flames and sparks flew all around us, burning our clothes and skins, but as I tried to avoid the heat, it never seemed to bother Eon, nor did any of my attacks as he swiftly dodged away every swing I thrust at him. As the battle went on I got more and more tired, I was no longer an invincible undead that could wake up from death after all, I was a human being with flesh and blood and the disadvanteges it came with in a deadly battle. I felt like Eon was a wall that could not be broken, for every planned attack I had he always saw it comming, in fact he was most likely three steps ahead of me as every attempt  of getting a hit in resulted in a cut across my arms, legs or chest.

« You are weak oh chosen one, soon you will die and this time you will not wake up, the human soul will be mine and with it my power will become even greater. Atleast maybe in your death you can join my sister. Oh I knew about her quest and how pointless it was, I saw how you looked at her from far away and I knew you had feelings for her, oh how fun it was to see, a love that could never be and all it led to was for you to now be killed by me»

 I hated the way he dared to say it like a mocking rhyme, I had tought him evil before, but now he was only cold blooded, Evelyn had sacrificed so much to find him only to never reach him and run out of time as the curse ultimately took her, she died thinking she had failed Eon when the truth was that he never wanted to be found by her in the first place.

« you....you god damn bastard!” I screamed as Hatred consumed me. I hit his sword hard with mine. With every blow he got pushed a little way back and he struggled to get any returning strike on me as my blows got faster and harder each time. With a heavy swing I knocked his sword out of his hand and not wasting my chance I stabbed my sword right trough his chest and left it there,stuck in his body.

He fell on his kness and started coughing up dark blood. « Curse you.....how is this possible? How can a mortal human kill me?» he muttured his words trough blood and a feeling of hate as I picked up his own sword from the ground and moved beside him.

« I tought I could never feel this again, but your sister showed me it was still possible, even in a world as dead as this one»

Eon looked up on me coughing,holding his chest with one hand and steadying himself with the other  « What are you talking about? Is the curse finally taking you too? He started laughing as I raised the sword and spoke the last words he would ever hear: « Love conquers all»

And with that I swong the sword in a clear downward strike, leaving his body headless.

                                                                           CHAPTER 8

The flame is getting fainter now as I am writing these last words. Ever since I killed Eon my purpose here has been in constant conflict. I want to to do the right thing, but after all I have been trough I am starting to wonder if there is no right thing to do, it is hopeless no matter what. At first I wanted to fulfill my duty as I had been told by the princess, but then I started to think about what Eon had told me before our fight, making  my choice even harder, damn it all . If only I did not have to do this alone, if only Evelyn could be here.

I will leave my story behind, hiding it under a rock in hope that someone else walking this path may find the answers that I never got. With this I take my farewell and hope my sacrifice will do some good for the world. I am tired of  being alone. I hope with my death that I can join my forefathers and the woman that showed me that love still could exist when everything seemed hopeless.

I Collected the notes I had written, hid them under a rock and reached my hand out to the flame. As my body got engulfed and the fire started to burn my flesh I uttered my last words: may death finally free me.

                                          EPILOGUE

And so the prophecy was completed. The dark age had been prevented and again the humankjnd could live in a world without darkness. They could not know how long this would last, but the age of  fire was indeed long, so long infact that the fear of the dark age soon faded away from their minds. That was until the story of the chosen undead who claimed the soul of humankind was found.

Trough the notes written long ago the humans understood how this long age of fire had came. It was not an undead who had kindled the flame, but a living human with a beating hearth, thus the prophecy had changed and with it the world.

Baffled by this new wisdom the humans started to send a willing living being to rekindle the flame when the signs of the dark age slowly returned. This worked for a while until their couriusness got the better of them, they started wondering if the age of  fire would be even longer if a newborn was sacrificed instead of a living person that  had already lived out most of its life.

This angered the mothers and fathers of the world as was expected, since no parent wanted to bring their newborns to the flame.

soon after, a war broke out, not against any gods or beast's, but against those that believed in this new prophecy and those that didn't. This war went on for so long that the humans, blind with fear and hatred could not see the dark ages return before it was too late.

And thus the circle has started again, the world had been saved, but ultimately the human kind could not save it from themselves, the darkness has consumed us all. This is our fate.

But as we now are yet again waiting for the end of the world we are asking ourselves if this could have truly been prevented or if it was always meant to be.

                                             THE END