#or like “here will i performed open heart surgery on myself and scrapped a piece of my heart and now it's a ring”

[suchawrathfullamb]

Hannigram Wedding Rings

very gothic very dark vibes option but also,

mind palace reference ring? I think so.

[sweetescape42069-blog]

I love every piece of you ( Taehyung One-shot )

The year is 5037, and the earth undergoing technological advancements at a rapid speed. Human robots are being built as war machines, but throughout time, they have been allowed to roam the mundane world. Of course the robots have human hearts, but can they still beat behind all of those circuits? Cyborg!Taehyung, Fem!Mechanic! Reader.

Warnings: Fluff, Angst, Smut, the feels

I stare up at the pipes of the motorcycle, having no hope for the thing after its been in the shop six times in the past month. As much as I loved him, Jung Hoseok didn’t  know how to take care of a bike for shit. As I slide myself out from under the bike, I sit up and look outside, seeing the rain start to pour through the open doors of the shop. I take a moment to watch as the dry cement slowly turns from tan to light grey, the rain staining it temporarily. “Y/N, we close in 20 minutes and you’re still working on that bike? Hobi is really lucky to have a friend like you who will work off of the clock to make him happy.” I stand up and turn towards my fellow co-worker, Jungkook, and flash him a small smile. “At least I’m productive while at work Kookie, all you do is play air guitar with the brooms in the back closet instead of finishing the Harley thats been sitting here for two weeks.” Jungkook acts shocked, pressing his hand to his heart as if i hurt his ego. “Y/N, how dare you insult my Justin Bieber performances, Namjoon told me last week that I was getting better at the broom than I ever have been with the mop. Im going home to practice, and next time, I’m not inviting you backstage.” With that, he grabs his coat and tosses me his keys, walking to the door. “Lock up will you? It’s the least you can do since you took a stab at my ego. Be safe on the way home Y/N, there is an extra umbrella on my stage- i mean, in the closet.” He waves goodbye before quickly running out the door, shielding himself from the heavy drops. I roll my eyes before grabbing my jacket as well, pulling it on before tidying up my station. Once I’ve put all of my tools away and swept the floors, I head for the doors, closing them tightly before locking them. I turn around and take a step forward, my eyes locking on a figure huddled up in the parking lot, next to my car, as large raindrops start to hit my face. I hesitate for a moment before calling out, hoping to god that it wasn't a homeless man about to chase me for money. “Are you alright?” I half yelled, waiting for a moment to see if the man would answer before getting closer. As I looked him over, his body was jolting, or shaking, if you prefer. Light blue sparks ran up his arms, and down his back, the water from the sky clearly shorting his circuits. I hesitate, reaching my hand out slowly to try and get a glimpse of his face, or at least to help the poor guy out. “Sir..?” Suddenly, as hand connects with my throat, the metal weaved into his fingers sliding against my skin easily as my body is pushed back into my car door. I struggle in a panic, my hands going to his arm as the sparks still run through him, giving some light to illuminate parts of his face. His grip loosens enough for me to breathe, but he still keeps his hold on me. “W-where am I..?” His features are cold and serious as he asks, but there is still a hint of question in his voice, his eyes unwavering at he stares at me. “Your’e standing in front of my shop in the pouring rain, short circuiting and holding me against my will. I suggest you let me go before I kick you in the balls and call the police..” I knew that this man was a cyborg, and there was no way that my strength would ever match his, so I decided to keep calm in hopes that he would kindly let me go. He stares at my face a moment longer before finally releasing his grip, his hand twitching a bit as another spark flies up his arm, his eyes flashing in pain as the water continues to seep into his metal plates. I let out a small sigh and rub my neck, attempting to soothe the small red marks that his hand left before reaching for the keys to the shop, his eyes following my every move, as to make sure that I wasn’t going to try anything. “I will help you, as long as you don’t try and strangle me again. I have to open in the morning and I can’t die before fixing my friend’s bike or he would kill me himself for a second time.” I walk back to the doors and unlock them, stepping inside as he cautiously follows me inside, both of our clothes dripping onto thee floor as I slide the doors closed once again, the building finally shielding us from the rain. I ring out my jacket before deciding to take it off, my damp shirt being the better choice than my soaked zip up. He stands there unsure of what to do as he follows my movements, slowly following my lead as he begins to ring out his shirt as well. I walk to the tool bench, pulling out two chairs from below it as I sit down and organize which tools I will need, scrap metals, and a couple of rags. I motion for him to sit down, and he does so after he finally realizes that I mean no harm to him. “Mind if I take apart your arm and spine plates and dry them? They were the only ones that I saw were sparking.” He nods, slowly taking his shirt off to expose each piece of metal that was carefully crafted into his skin, acting as an armor. The light grey metal was shiny, somehow mixing well with his pale complexion, and it sunk in perfectly, almost like a weaved basket made carefully by an old woman with nothing better to do. Although he looked slim, there were faint lines that defined his chest and shoulders, showing how toned he actually was. I clear my throat and feel my cheeks heat up slightly as I reach to the side and grab a clean rag, dabbing each metal plate to dry it off a bit before I get to work. As I meet his eyes, a small smile forms on his lips as he notices my blush. I quickly look away and continue my work, focusing on that to make sure that I don’t screw up. “How do you know how to fix someone like me?” His words startle me a bit out of my groove, my eyes looking up to meet his as i finish drying the inside of the last plate. “Ah.. my father was a Cyborg. He didn’t start as one of course, but after I was born he joined the army and underwent surgery to become one. When he wasn’t on active duty, he would come home to see me and my mother, and throughout the years I just learned from him I guess.” He nodded to acknowledge the fact that we was listening as I placed the last plate back into place, making sure that each one fit back perfectly like a puzzle, not wanting any of the wires to not match its partner. I nod at my work and rub my hands on my thighs, removing the water that came from the metal. I listen as the rain still pounds against the tin roof of the shop, clearly not stopping any time soon. “It looks like we are stuck here until the rain stops. Lucky for us, there is a cot in my coworker’s station. We can hang out there until it is dry outside.” I stand up and he follows, letting me lead the way to Jungkook’s station, a cot and some blankets neatly set up for whenever he decides to nap on the clock. I pick up a blanket and hand it to him, seating myself on the cot after i notice that my clothes are mostly dry now, and pull the second blanket over my lap. He watches me get settled before sitting next to me, keeping the blanket folded nicely as he keeps it on his legs. “I’m Taehyung by the way.. I am sorry for scaring you before hand, I was just not able to think clearly with all of that water inside of me.” He keeps looking forward, his eyes wondering around the shop as I turn to him, admiring his facial features a bit before flashing a small smile, glad to hear him speak to show me that I did a pretty damn good job at lining up the wires correctly. “The name is Y/N, and don’t mention it, I understand. I would’ve freaked out too if I was in your position.” He looks at me after a moment and gives a genuine smile, pleased to know that I didn't take his actions to heart. “Y/N... I like it. Its a beautiful name for a skilled woman. Thank you for helping me out..” His eyes meet mine again, the deep brown stare baring into mine as my breath catches, my stomach twisting a bit as butterflies run through it. Something about the way his deep voice travels through my ears, and how his eyes shimmer in the lighting from the oil lanterns attached to the ceiling makes my body temperature rise, something I’m sure that he notices since all of his senses are advanced. His smile fades and he leans forward slowly, his lips inches from mine as his warm breath hits my skin, making me shiver under his gaze. A small smirk takes place on his lips before he seals the kiss, his mouth moving against mine slowly as his hands come up to rub my arms that were chilled from being out in the rain beforehand. I let out a soft wince as he bites my lip, his hands moving to grab my hips and placing me on his lap to face him with ease. He continues to kiss me, the slow, romantic pace turning more eager and hungry every second. He breaks the kiss and runs his fingers tips against my sides, pulling my shirt off as he teases me with such a simple action. “I was thinking of a way to thank you properly love, but I couldn’t hold my composure much longer. You’re so beautiful..” His hands find the clasp of my bra and undo it as his eyes admire every inch of the exposed skin. At this point I can’t help myself either as my hips roll against his clothed member, feeling just how hard he is under me. His head leans back slightly, taking the feeling of my core against his before snapping, flipping us both over so that he hovers over me. His lips catch mine again, passionately dancing against my own as his hand travels down my navel and to my pants, undoing them with ease before slipping his hand into my panties. His fingers run against my pussy, the cold metal weaved into his skin gliding against my clit perfectly as the coldness from it soothes the aching excitement. A small moan slips past my lips as he breaks the kiss to watch me, smiling down as if witnessing my pleasure is the best thing he has ever seen. “Do you like that baby? Does feeling the metal against your hot pussy make you want even more?” His fingers suddenly stop the teasing on my clit and dip into my heat, giving me no time to process it as he thrusts them into me at lightning speed. I let out a cry as he keeps up the pace, the tips of his fingers reaching deep as he rubs against my walls, wetness dripping down my thighs as he adds a third finger. He edges me right up to my orgasm, but pulls out his fingers right before I get there. I look up at him in disbelief as he smirks, standing up and removing his pants before pumping his cock in his hand a couple of times. “I still need some fixing babygirl. Help me, and I’ll make sure that you get to cum.” I get up eagerly, taking off my pants as well before getting on my knees in front of him. I lick my lips before taking the tip of his cock into my mouth, sucking gently before looking up at him. His head falls back in bliss as I swirl my tongue around the tip, getting deeper with each movement before he is touching the back of my throat. As I bob my head, his hips meet my movements as they thrust up, making me choke a bit as he grabs a fist full of my hair in his hands. After holding my head down for a couple of seconds, he lets my head up and I take a gasping breath, meeting his eyes as he sends me a smirk. “Lay down love, it’s my turn to help you.” I lay down at his words, obeying him since the ache between my thighs is getting to hard to handle. He hovers above me once again and lines himself up at my entrance, leaning down to give me a soft kiss before sliding himself inside, his cock stretching my pussy out perfectly, like it was made just to be there. He gives me a moment to adjust before abruptly thrusting into me, showing no mercy as he leans down and runs his lips across my neck, leaving marks along it in the process. Moans come from both of our mouths as our bodies press together, getting as much pleasure from one another as we can. I let my fingers find his back, my nails digging into his skin as his hips snap into mine over and over, his body not tiring out at all like a normal human’s would. “Come on baby, cum on my cock. I want to feel you release on me, shaking from the way I make you feel. Can you do that for me?” He encourages me, but keeps up his movements before reaching down and circling my clit with his fingers. Pleasure shoots through me once again, my walls tightening around him as another loud moan escapes my lips, echoing off of the walls, my release hitting me hard as he keeps pounding into me, releasing soon after as he feels the warm liquids around his cock. He sighs in content before laying beside me, not bothering to pull out yet as he wraps his arms around my waist and pulls me closer, his head resting against mine. I smile lazily and happily cuddle him back, pulling the blanket over us as we let our bodies rest against the cot. “That was amazing Taehyung.. thank you.” He kisses my forehead before nuzzling his nose against yours. “You fixed me, and I was happy to return the favor.. not everyone helps out someone with more pieces that they can handle.” I let a sleepy smile cover my face before kissing him softly. “Taehyung, I love every piece of you..” He looks surprised for a moment, those words leaving the lips of such a beautiful woman. “Y/N..-” a quiet snore sounds and he looks down at you before chuckling, pulling you closer as he kisses your head. “I love you too Y/N..”  

[nowitsdarkfic]

chapter twenty-two (the ghostly subway)

“An old cowboy went riding out one dark and windy day, upon a ridge he rested as he went along his way. When all at once a mighty herd of red eyed cows he saw a-plowing through the ragged sky and up the cloudy draw.” -”Ghost Riders in the Sky”, Johnny Cash 

December 26, 1988. Camillus, New York.

I had woke up the morning after Christmas in my parents' house and stuck around for breakfast until I told them I had to go all the way to the City to tend to something important. I swore it was important and it in fact is important.

After much insisting from my mom, I finally came clean with the both of them on what has been going with me, telling them about the night I found Maya to everything that's happened to this point. I worried a little about neither of them believing me, but I worried more about the roads being open for me after Syracuse.

But much to my relief, they both believed me.

My mom put her arms around me and told me she was proud of me for being such a good boy and doing the right thing for her. My dad told me it was one of the best things I could have done.

To which I say…

PHEW!

That's a relief.

I worried about them not buying into the whole thing with the arrowhead pendant, but my mom recalled that I live with four ghosts and we have our heritage from a culture that revolves around the spirit world so nothing is too far fetched for her. I told them that Candace lives in New York City and I know exactly where she lives; my dad offered to come with me but he decided not to by the time I wanted to leave.

So here I am driving out to the City on this barely open highway, by myself, in my pile of potato salad that's my car. A machine that's not firing on all cylinders, has a dashboard that's held together with electrician's tape, guzzles fuel like it's going out of style, has a pair of seats that might fall apart if I even so much as look at them funny, and overall makes me yearn for a hydrogen car of my own. At least the heater works, otherwise I've got to sell this thing for scrap and vouch for something else with the money I make off of it. I am officially torn about the whole technology of the future thing now. I can see it do wonders for the world at large, but I can also see it fall down right square on its head.

And I can't help but think about the placebos I found in Seattle for Lars, and the one that Nancy rubbed on me.

It's almost as if someone put them there for me to find, given it was a neat little pile next to a dumpster.

A dumpster.

Hmmm.

Thin little white wisps of snow drift over the pavement as I near Monticello followed by the outskirts of the City. The tallest buildings break through the gray tapestry before me as I cross the river: within not even a week, the ball will drop in Time Square. I know exactly where she lives.

I wonder what she's like as I'm thinking of how I'm going to introduce myself to her.

Hi, I'm the guy who found your sister in my home town, battered, shook, and bound at the ankles and it looks like someone performed some kind of surgery on her brain because she's not eating and she's back at your parents' house. Is there any way you and I could find common ground with one another?

Jesus clap carrying Christ, I'm gonna have my work cut out for me. She's a writer, for God's sake. She might be a rather successful one at that, too, given she's spent the past decade in Copenhagen and then had the money to find a nice place in the heart of Manhattan. She's gonna judge the snot out of me, 'cause what the hell am I? A bum hick with nothing to show other than a crappy car, a demo tape with me screeching on it so hard and loud that it sounds like someone hooked my nipples to a car battery, and a bunch of girls on my meatloaf. I've got absolutely nothing on Candace Bradley!

I flash back when Maya and I drove back to Oswego together. There's just something so incredibly twisted about that now that I really give it some thought. She doesn't eat but she stuffs me silly and then kisses me around the belt. That bugs me. That bugs me a lot.

There's something about Maya, like she's definitely hiding something from me. And not from the obvious fact that she's hiding her history from me, but there's another nuance to her.

I've got a bunch of girls on me, including Nerissa, the ghost of a dead woman who killed herself. She kind of looks like Maya, albeit rounder, a lot fuller, and quite a bit sexier. But she's got the black hair and the pale skin.

And then there's that weird apparition I kept seeing at the hockey rink. What in the hell is up with that?

Maybe… no. There's no way. Maya and Nerissa are the same person? Like part of her splintered off and died and became Nerissa? And Maya is the leftover piece, wandering alone and wasting away and refusing any help. That's not a bad guess, especially since that's how the Man in Black came to fruition. But James is still alive and well, as far as I know.

It's possible, and the spirit world has a funny way of operating as far as my own experience with it goes about.

I'm reaching the outskirts of Yonkers when the check engine light pops on my dashboard. I'm almost there anyways. It can't be that bad. Can it?

Yes.

I don't even reach the Bronx. The stupid thing sputters and dies right next to the curb outside of a cute little art gallery with red and white pinstriped curtains pulled over the front window for the day. I pull off to the side to make sure it's not in the middle of the pavement. I turn the key and the ignition gives me nothing but a click. An empty, hollow click.

“Damn it,” I mutter aloud. Since the engine isn't on, I lost the heat. It's getting cold fast, too, with the inside of the windshield already fogging up.

“You're gonna make me walk, aren't you?” I grumble into the steering wheel. I click it a couple more times before slamming my hands onto the edge of the steering wheel.

“Piece of shit—stupid piece of shit!” I clutch onto the key with one hand and tug the scarf over my lips and the tip of my nose with the other, and then I climb out into the raw New York cold. I lock the doors before heading on over to the sidewalk and striding down with my hands stuffed firmly into my pockets.

Tiny flurries drift down from the heavy gray sky overhead and into the roots of my hair atop my head. God, it's so cold.

I reach the corner and glance both ways again. It's the day Maya picked me up and took me back upstate all over again, except I'm going all the way down to Manhattan this time around. Onlookers bundled down in their cozy warm reliable cars for the day after Christmas probably don't even know that the young black haired Injun man of middle height walking down the street looking like he's about blow away used to sing for Anthrax. The snow is silencing him, forcing him to cover his face with his scarf. No tears to be seen, other than my own from the frigid cold wind against the crown of my head. I am still young, and yet I feel so old with all of this snow beating me back.

There is the subway, though. That can take me all the way to Manhattan.

In fact, once I cross the street, I recognize the wrought iron fence in a square of the sidewalk in front of me.

I've got nothing else and I have no other means of reaching Candace.

Through the flurries, I spot a creamy beige sign on the brick wall as I'm descending the stairs. In big cursive black letters, it reads: “beware of ghosts, protect your children at all times!”

Wait a minute. Ghosts haunt the subways? I didn't know that. All the times I've been here for Anthrax and not one time did this happen.

Once I'm inside of the station, pale brick walls and cold spindly brass making up the gates and everything, I tug down the scarf in order to better breathe. I open my lips and let out a low sigh. To my right is a man who's hobbling along with a black cane. And then I recognize his long hair, his big coat wrapping and protecting his plump body from the cold, and of course the scruff on his face.

“Hey!” Lars calls out to me in a broken voice.

“Hey, I know you,” I greet him, befuddled as we walk up to each other. “What're you doing here?”

“I'm going to meet up with Candace, Maya's sister.”

“That's what I'm doing.”

“I'm also going to do something for my birthday today.”

“Oh, happy birthday, man.”

“Thank you.” He frowns at me. “You look cold.”

“Freezin', and I'm from upstate.” I rustle my coat and shake my head about to get the snow out of my hair. “My car broke down a few blocks from here, so here I am taking the subway down to Grand Central.”

“Ugh. I took a cab here. My knee started hurting again, too, from the cold.”

“Yeah, you know that medicine I gave you in Seattle?”

“The same shit Chris and Nancy gave you after you pulled a muscle? Yeah, that's the one. What about it?”

“It's a placebo.”

He gapes at me.

“It's a placebo?”

“Yeah. I found out taking off my shirt after I got home the other day, thinking 'why does this smell like sugar?' All I could think was it was a placebo. Good news is my stomach doesn't so much anymore.”

“Wow.” Lars shakes his head at that as he buys the both of us a ticket; he hands it to me before we pass through the slender black iron gates into the cold platform with a floor made of brass and silver mosaic stretching underneath us. Our boots are making a sound that's akin to horse hooves all the way to the middle of the platform. He's to the left of me as we're making our way through this nearly deserted station: aside from the security guard in his booth and a few other people, it's just us in here.

“Where'd you find the medicine you gave me?” he asks me as we stop right next to a shabby looking black metal bench. The whole tunnel on either side of us is pitch black and cavernous, and not to mention, freezing cold. The whole place smells like mud. I know the unsettling sensation, that creeping chill across the skin anywhere, though.

“It was a part of a little pile next to a dumpster,” I explain to him, adjusting my scarf. “Like a pile of those—little pill bottles. Perfect pile, too.”

“Hm. Hang on, you don't think—”

“It's possible. I mean, she was there after all—” He nudges me, which in turn stops me right in my place.

“Joey—” He swallows and I notice his pupils dilating like giant black ink drops. “Joey, that's not the train, is it?”

I shuffle around to see a glimmer of blue emerging out of the darkness in the right side of the tunnel. No way that's the subway train: it's too globular. I recognize the shape of a head at the top, followed by a body clothed in rags and fancy shoes drifting over the railroad tracks and the shabby wires down below. The blue fades into some kind of oddball brownish color. The boy is practically glowing and radiating against the total darkness in the tunnel behind him. But his arms, which are raised up as if he's groping about and finding his way, end at the wrists. His wrists are flat, as if something or someone had made a clean cut across his wrists.

Add to this he's faceless. Not a single feature on his face one.

He's faceless and handless.

“Wheee—ere are his hands?” I can hardly speak as I clutch onto the front of Lars' coat.

“Forget his hands, where the hell is his face!”

“Oh, my God—” He floats closer and closer to us in total silence until he's right beneath us, down below the mosaic floor of the platform. I glance up at the tile wall across the way, and the soap colored tiles frosting over at his presence. He raises his arms to us, as if giving us something, but with no hands.

“I…” Lars stammers, holding onto me. “I don't know and—there's the train.” I turn my head the other way to see the cold metal subway train lumbering into the station from the tunnel to the left of us. We take a step back away from the edge. The flat end of the train hits the boy and he vanishes into nothing. Lars and I gape at one another as the train slows to a stop right in front of us.

“The subway's haunted,” he remarks as a pair of double doors slide up in front of us.

“Indeed it is. Gonna be quite the ride down to Grand Central.”