#originally i only did the first canvas and then i felt bad leaving the rest out TT

[poltergeist-coffee]

Could you please draw a Tubbo with one of the eggs? It can be any of them, because Idk how to choose and I miss Tubbo hanging out with the kids a lot!

i’m indecisive so i drew all of them including the ones tubbo will never be able to meet

[starshipsofstarlord]

The Sheriff and the Murderer

Part Five

Series masterlist

Summary | whilst spending time in the shower with you, Lee notices that there are a few things missing to the household, like any mention of your husband. And thus, he does what he originally came to your house to do, and speak with you about his strange disappearance.

Warnings | smut, shower sex, oral sex (f receiving), very slight sheriff kink, cum swapping, mention of death, swearing, some fluff, angst

Quick link to my masterlist, if you’re interested in reading more of my crap 😬

Water ran down the curves of your body, as Lee caressed your ribcage from behind, his fingertips dancing along your skin, with water showering down upon the pair of you, flattening your hair in its spray of passion upon the back of your neck. The man behind you nursed the tip of his nose along your shoulder line, pressing supple kisses upon the blades, enforcing you to hum contentedly.

This is what you had always wanted, this one individual person making sweet love to you, he was your home, not these four walls, nor the tiles that were configured around you. Lee Bodecker was the man of your dreams, but mama and papa had always told you, that dreams were not realistic, they were pits of gold that would drive you made. And maybe, you were a tad mad, after all you had murdered your husband, and gone through with burrowing his body parts in the wild.

The worst part was, as panicked as you were, in that moment, you had felt crazed, as though a true part of yourself was released as you beat his motionless form, spilling further blood around. With Lee, you felt severely calm, soothed with the quiet presence of him puckering pursed kisses down onto your spine, as he swiftly turned you around, pressing his nose against your own as he slithered his addictive hands down, probing at your waist with them to grind his cock against your stomach, fingering the dips of your body.

A stuttered breath left your lips as his tongue traced your lips, prompting you to open the oral depths of your fence of teeth, allowing him to enter the shallow insides of your conversing cavern, tangling the tip of his tongue with your tonsils, your hands tracing up to stifle upon his jaw, feeling the light and dampened stubble across the firm and well aged structure. He backed you into a corner, grasping your hips as his beverage bloated stomach pressed against your own, making your heart swell with adoration.

“Take me Bodecker, consummate me as though I were your own bride.” It was impossible not to allow the words to slip out, and it made Lee groan into your mouth, the sound echoing and reverberating around your entire body. He wanted there to be some momentous truth to support your spoken scenario, for the pair of you to wed in an instant, even if it were to be in the lack of spaciousness proximity of the bathroom shower, that had an inkling of mould brewing in the far top corner, and a few cracked tiles splintering in random placements.

“Thought you’d leave me hanging forever.” The sheriff groaned, stifling his hard cock in his hand, as he bent his knees, using his physical leverage to hoist you into his law enforcing arms, enabling you to wrap your tense legs around the curves of his behind, grasping his flesh closer against your own. “Tight, so tight baby doll.” He gritted his teeth, as he ran his teeth along your slit, just in time before he sunk his hungry cock through your folds, stretching your walls to accommodate his size.

“Lee Lee.” Your voice muffled into the crease of his neck, as you felt obscene pleasure as he stilled inside you, allowing you to adjust to his pulsating length within your pussy, whimpering lightly at the sensation of his entirety, suctioning your lips against his cleansed skin. “Fuck me sheriff, I want to feel every inch of you.” You nestled against him, sending moans directly into his ear as Lee began to rut up into you, his balls slapping against your ass cheeks, as he delivered intimate bites along the side of your neck, though nothing too harsh to leave prominent and dark marks into the canvas of your skin.

“I-“ Lee frowned, his blue eyes reeling shut as he picked up the rate of his thrusts, feeling himself succumb to an immoral pleasure that the preacher would subject against; adultery was against the beliefs within the house of the father, but in the moment either one of you could care less. In fact, it sounded like Lee cared a little too much as his next words passed through the air like a dream similar symphony, that bundled in your ears, leaving you feel conflicted with emotions. “I love you.”

And then he came, filling you with his seed, as he pulled out, dropping to his knees, watching his white gold spill down your thighs. He dragged his tongue over his source, moving closer to your lips to seep below the outer folds, devouring his flow of essence, realising that the first hand taste of himself wasn’t so bad after all. Your hands sewed around the blunt and short hairs of his head, as he swirled your clit into his mouth, the rest of his seed painting down onto his chin, content to continue eating you out until he made you revel into a spiritual space, blinding you into a hot white light, that had you falling back against the chipped dirty blue tiles.

“Oh my god.” You whimpered, eyes blurring with galactic, starry irised tears until your vision returned to vivid clarity. “Lee Lee, come up here.” He stood, his own cum still orbing in his mouth, as he began to kiss you, swapping his taste into your mouth, smirking lightly to himself as you gulped down the extraction of him. “I love- you know.” You shook your head, hardly wishing to say it aloud, considering all that had happened the last time that you had uttered those words to someone, even if you had not actually mean them.

“I need to hear you say it gorgeous, so that I know that you mean it. I’ve waited all these years, practically my entire life, so please, for the love of the law, say it.” He grasped your jaw, caressing your nose once more with his own, sharing breaths with you. His eyes bore into your own, his hand resting again the back of your neck to bring your face closer to his own.

“I love you Lee Bodecker. I really do.” You spoke softly, feeling the water spitter coldly upon your pores, reminding you of how long the two of you had been under its spay. You pecked his lips, running your hands up along his chest, your palms cascading over his pebbled nipples, as you felt him delicately tickle your flesh beneath the flow of your hair. “You were the one I should have married. It always should have been you.” Tears began to pelt out from your eyes, spilling as you thought of how much of a life you had missed out on with him.

The sneaking around had amounted to much stress, the secrecy arising pressure in your lives that felt over the top, all while whilst being worth it. “I fucked up, so bad. I married the wrong man all because I was a young naive girl that thought you deserved better, and you do. The things I’ve done, this life I’ve amounted into, I never wanted it. The one thing I’ve always wanted was you, and I let you get away, all whilst never letting you go.”

Your fists lightly began to beat against his chest as you sobbed, thinking of how previously there had been blood and dirt encasing them, serving as evidence for your unforgivable sins. “Baby girl, it’s okay. We’ll figure things out, Simon is the only thing holding us back from finding a new way to live, by chance, have you found him?” It was not only his way to ensure you with whims of comfort, retelling you that you could find a way to publicly be together, but to also uncover the destination of your missing husband.

“Found him?” You frowned, confused by what he meant. He nodded, racking his fingertips down the side of your face, as you peppered light kissed along his soft skin. “Whatever do you mean darling?” A large part of you was severely worried about the situation; it was a great secret that you did indeed know of his whereabouts, he was in deep, in a literal sense. You’d know, considering that you, along with Sally, had buried him six feet under, and prayed cursively that no one would find his remains.

“Yes, he’s been required at the police station, though none of us have been able to find him. Do you have any idea where he is, I figured you’d be the best person to ask.” It all clicked, and you stepped away, softly shoving his chest as he tried to come closer to you. The tears continued to flow, flooding your face like a broken dam, as you felt overcome with a conjunction of newfound prospects.

“This is what this all was, wasn’t it? That’s why you came here, but instead of firstly asking me where Simon was, you decided to get in my pants! How could you Lee, you made me feel vulnerable, convincing that you loved me so that you could pick my brain.” Cradling your own scalp, you felt how your head was ready ready to implode. Everyone tended to use you for their own dirty deeds, and here Bodecker was, doing the exact same thing.

“No, y/n. That’s not what-“ he realised that you were near on right, he had buttered you up physically, though he had gotten quite distracted from his original ploy. “I’m sorry, but I meant it. And I thought that we would be able to speak like this like civil adults, neither of us have anything to hide.” You did, and the only way to keep it concealed was to push him away, and thus you climbed out of the shower, grabbing a towel and covering your nude body with it.

Lee fumbled after you, grasping his clothes as he exited the bathroom, following your footsteps as you raked your mind obsessively. “Y/n/n please don’t push me away, I want you, and I just need an answer, otherwise you’ll be swarmed with strangers questioning you on Simon, and we both know there’s many things that they don’t know.” Instead, you turned and watched as he clicked his belt together, his eyes pleading at you.

There were many things that he too did not know, and such secrets you did not intend to share with him. Rubbing your eyes, you glanced at the wedding ring that was encrusted upon your vowed finger, grimacing at the sight of it. “Just leave Sheriff, I’m sure you can finish your duties elsewhere. This case better be pretty important if you’re willing to use me for it.” Crossing your arms, you tensed your nostrils, glaring hurtfully towards the man that you currently felt everything towards. “And no, I haven’t seen him, so you can write that down when you get in that car of yours, and drive away from me, for good.”

“I didn’t mean for that darling, please don’t reject me now.” His voice cracked, plodding backwards as he felt his heart stutter rapidly in his chest, cracking at the edges as he saw the brokenness on your features. “I love you, and I’m leaving. But this isn’t the end, we’re going to sort this out once you’re not so tense about all this.” He pointed at you, staring endearingly as he exited your front door, shock falling down his face in liquid pebbles as soon as it slammed behind him.

There were things that you couldn’t tell him, but there was one thing that you had already confessed. You loved him, always had, and it was sure that you always would. You weren’t y/n Priot, you were y/n y/l/n, the girl that had snuck around with him, for vast amounts of years, and had definitely married the wrong man. It had hurt you that he had not showed up at your wedding, though it had always been understandable why. He loved you too, and he would prove it, more so when he got to the end of the case concerning your missing husband.

taglist for this specific series; @charmed-asylum @tcc-gizmachine @stucky-my-ship @brynthebulldozer @acciosiriusblack @lady-loki-ren @bxnnywriting @severewobblerlightdragon @dontputyourfckingdrinkonmytable

[stucky-starnes]

Gleam and Glow

Chapter 1

Pairing: Grey! Bucky Barnes x Fem! Reader

Word count: 3,374

Description: The reader has been held captive by their own mother their whole life, taught to believe the world is bad and that they need to be protected from it. That their gift needs to be protected from it. They possess 70 feet of hair with healing properties and some people will do anything for a chance at peace.

General Warnings: This story contains dark elements and various dark characters!! Do not read if this makes you uncomfortable!!!, kidnapping, violence, language, angst, whump, for the purposes of the story the reader has 70ft foot long hair that glows gold- this does not change regardless of hair color or texture, inspired by the movie Tangled.

Chapter Warnings: kidnapping, manhandling, betrayal, mention of trafficking (selling/buying of a human), John Walker, very naive reader, brief sexual implications,arguments, un-gendered pet names,choking, illusion to sexual harassment, language, please read at your own discretion.

DO NOT REPOST MY WORK, REBLOGS ARE WELCOME AND APPRECIATED

A majority of your childhood was peaceful. You got to do all the normal kid things- of course you were never totally sure what a ‘normal’ kid thing was on account of the fact that you’d actually never met another kid but, it felt normal enough. Aside from the very abnormal ‘birth defect’ you were ‘gifted’ with. You stopped considering your magical abilities as a gift by the time you were seventeen, when your mother made it abundantly clear that you could never leave the tower, you could never go outside, and you could never cut your hair.

The only thing more annoying than the seventy foot long tresses was your mother. According to her, your father was a sloppy one night stand she found in a tavern. He was a love em’ and leave em’ type of guy; he gave your mother one great romantic night and then disappeared off the face of the earth. You’ve never met him. You’ve never met anybody. Your mother has always been your only companion. She was a beautiful woman, she said you take after her more than your dad. While she was gorgeous and protective, she was also passive aggressive, rash, and ostentatious. If it was possible for her to get out of being “the bad guy” she lunged, dragging you under at the first chance. When you were younger she would tell you stories about the outside, she made it seem like a gorgeous place. She described the kingdom and the many villages outside its walls. She started with all the good things until you showed interest in escaping, then, she gave you the truth. She began to spin tales of roads rich with crime, vigilante gangs, covert groups of thugs, and rebel Viking camps. From what you could piece together, the rebel Viking camps were the greatest concern.

The rebel Viking groups weren’t actually Vikings. Your mother had said they called them The Vikings because of their rugged and brutal lifestyle. The camp they occupy is more like a small village, the structures following Norse architectural style, chalk-full of criminals and runaways. Runaways. Your mother had always explained to you that when young girls ran away from their mothers they ended up in that village living a life of crime. The very thought of falling into the wrong hands has kept you from sneaking out or from begging to leave the tower. You found ways to be content, ways to keep busy.

The tower wasn’t as big as it looked from the outside, the only living space was at the very top of the tower. The top of the tower had about two floors worth of open space, minimal and organized in the lower level and very maximalist in the bedrooms and wall decor. Mother said the rest of the tower below was sturdy white brick and vine, aged by time and the weather. Most of the exterior bricks were cracked or crumbling, so all the support for the turret came from the tower’s solid core. The roof was a chipped and rusty blue color mostly concealed by untamed ivy growth, which also hid the entrance to the tower’s turret. To your home. The only way in and out of the tower was an intricate pulley system made from twisted vine and rope. Originally, mother had used your hair to get into the turret, until one day a strand snapped from the pressure, dying and losing its magic. In an effort to protect your gift, you helped your mother make the pulley.

Crafting things was just one of the many ways you spent your time in the tower. After you’d turned eighteen your mother didn’t stick around much, if at all, leaving at night to go to the palace or the tavern, sometimes coming back in the morning and sometimes being gone for a day or two. With so much time alone the only option was to learn how to entertain yourself. Reading books, cooking, painting, testing the information you soaked up from all of the books, sewing holes in clothes, polishing leather, polishing silver, dusting, drawing in the dust. It’s a really long list. If there’s more to add you add it, forever stretching the possibilities. As the sun started to go down however, it started to seep in just how repetitive and predictable your daily activities had become. While you knew leaving the tower would be a horrible and dangerous mistake, you couldn’t help but long to be outside. To feel the grass between your fingers or to stand out in the sun, somewhere other than where it leaks through the turrets window entrance. It could never happen. Knowing this was an impossibility kept an icy grip on your stomach, a lonely sort of feeling, naturally touch starved by fate. It’s been years since the last time you asked to leave. Much before you knew how dangerous it really was out there. Asking one more time couldn’t really hurt could it? You’d be twenty soon enough, just one touch wouldn’t hurt anyone.

Mother had left early in the morning, off to do some much needed grocery shopping; if she hadn’t decided to stop by the tavern she would be home very soon. Too soon to come up with a better plan. Quickly you started to prepare for her to come home, sweeping the dining area and pulling out the utensils needed to make a special stew recipe you remember she had enjoyed. If she was going to say yes she needed to be buttered up first. Once the cooking utensils were nicely organized on or beside the unlit stove, and the dust was done away with, it was time to make quick work of anything she could use against your argument. Rushing to one of your most treasured bookshelves you pulled a discarded velvet scrap from the back of one of your more worn astronomy books. The midnight blue fabric had been torn from one of your favorite dresses when you were sixteen, unwilling to part with the shredded material, it was quickly fashioned into a long braided bookmark. Since then you’ve opted for shorter than floor length gowns or comfortable riding pants and tunics. The supposedly “masculine” style annoyed mother to no end but then again she really couldn’t understand how suffocating the corsets could become, or how difficult it was to fasten them without getting hair caught beneath the strings.

Unbraiding the bookmark allowed it to become one long thick strand, setting it on the dining table, you went to gather your hair. For the most part, you tried to keep it close to yourself. Getting any part snagged or wrapped around something was more of a pain in the ass than taking the time to gather it together. Gathering so much hair was difficult, it took time and it was unbelievably heavy. Once you were finally able to get it all in one place you started the tedious task of braiding. In order to braid it up enough to keep it off the floor you split it into three sections, braiding those separately before braiding them up into a complex Dutch braid. It took nearly two hours to finish so you could finally tie up the end with the dismantled bookmark. The complexity allowed the braid to settle halfway down your calves, keeping it neat and off the ground. Now all that was left to do was light the lanterns around the room and wait. Waiting for mother to get home was nerve wracking, if possible you’d busy yourself with starting the stew but you were fresh out of the most important ingredients.

“Y/n let down the vine!” Mother yelled from the bottom of the tower and the tension finally broke.

“Coming!” You sighed out in relief rushing to the window and lowering out the vine life you had made.

Once you were sure she was safely in the lift’s sling, you utilized the pulley system to begin pulling her up. The tower was around forty feet tall, making the trip up lengthy and difficult. When she was close enough to the window entrance you hooked the vine slack onto the wall hook, keeping it stationary, before quickly coming to help her in with the groceries. Taking the canvas grocery bags from her arms and into the kitchen, you started pulling out the items to take inventory on what she’d bought at the market.

“How was the market? Did that man give you trouble on the celery prices again?”

“Ugh doesn’t he always? Absolutely exhausting, he wanted double, and then there was a fight at the tavern again which I always have to break up.” She pulled out a chair at the dining table, sitting into it and slinging her feet up into the neighboring chair.

You slowed for a moment, pulling the bundle of carrots from the bag slower as you processed that she may be intoxicated which meant there’d be zero chance of having the conversation you desperately desired.

“You went to the tavern?” You asked, feigning excitement.

“Of course sweetheart, I promised that I would but I wasn’t there for long I promise.” She got up to meet you in the kitchen, resting her hands on your shoulders.

“Now what are we having? I’m absolutely starved.” She smiled.

“I was going to make that stew from last winter that you liked so much. Now that fall is settling in.” you started to add broth and small peeled potatoes to the pot.

“That sounds delightful darling, I’m going to go rest my eyes, call me when it’s done?” Mother started to walk away. It was now or never.

“Actually!” You cleared your throat., “Actually I was hoping I could talk to you about something.”

“Alright but let’s make this quick, mama’s feet are aching.” She turned back around to sit in another chair.

“Well as you know I’m almost twenty, an adult really and I’m already very responsible around the tower-“

“Y/n where is this going?” She interrupted, rubbing her temples.

“I want to go outside.” You turned to look at her.

“We’ve talked about this! It’s far too dangerous! You know what would happen if anyone discovered your gift!”

“I know, I know, but I’ve thought about it and no one would even know! I won’t tell anyone about it, and if they don’t know I have it then they don’t know how to use it, so it’s useless to them. If I just keep it braided I’ll be completely normal!” You came to sit across from her, hoping it’ll be convincing.

“No absolutely not, it’s much too risky! I have kept you safe for nearly twenty years! I am not stopping now! You’re far too young to understand but this is what’s best for you!” She got up and started to walk away again.

“But it’s not! I’ve never met anyone else! I’ve never had friends or met other people my own age! I’ve never even seen a real man!” You were absolutely desperate.

“Oh a man?! This is about men huh?! So you want to leave the safety of the home I built for you to go whore around for a man?!” She was absolutely furious, beyond cooling down.

“Mother no!” Your face was burning with embarrassment at the very suggestion of sexual activities.

“No truly I understand! You would rather leave this place and be used by men! Drained of your power in one of those Viking camps no doubt! I won’t hear another word, I’m going out for air and your attitude better be gone by the time I get back!” She walked over to the vine, untying it from the wall and setting it into a rustier pulley wheel that would let her down slowly, she was gone just as soon as she’d finished her sentence.

You had no choice but to sit in utter silence and shame. Swallowed by guilt that mother could ever consider you’d do that to her. As much as you wanted to leave and experience the real world, you desperately didn’t want to disappoint your mother or end up somewhere bad. Very quickly you dissolved into regret, backing over to try and undo what’s already been done, planning a way to forgiveness. Finishing the stew was the only way you knew how to start so you got to work, making this the best stew you could ever devise. Having never written the recipe down you had to go solely based on flavor and gut feeling. That was the best way to cook anyway. Once it had been spiced to taste you put the lid on the pot to let it simmer.

Almost immediately you found yourself overrun with anxiety, filled with a need to do something with your hands. To occupy your mind. There really wasn’t much to do in the tower to occupy you enough to erase this from the forefront of your mind. So you opted for the only thing that you could: cleaning. Your started polishing, dusting anything that you could and when there was nothing left you sat and you waited. The silence was absolutely deafening. You’d totally zoned out until you heard the rattling of the pot lid on the stove, snapping your head to it only to see the stew boiling over.

“Shit!” You rushed to turn it off, burning your hand in the process as you cleaned up the mess. Suddenly you were no longer hungry.

Opting to leave the stew on the stove for whenever mother would return you left the kitchen, going to your room as you cradled your hand gently. Tears stung your eyes, threatening to drip through your lashes and you curled up on your bed. Reaching for your braid with your uninsured hand, you gently took the end and rested it over your burned palm, reaching to wipe away some loose tears. Whether the tears were from the pain or from emotional discourse you couldn’t be sure. After drying your tears you closed your injured fingers around the large amount of hair, and began to hum a soft familiar melody. As the melody continued your hair began to glow a brilliant gold, almost glittery in color. Once the shimmer reached your palm, the heat faded and the wound healed. You were able to breathe. You looked to your palm, it was as soft and unharmed as it had been that morning. As it had always been. No scars or leftover pain. Just smooth healthy skin.

You couldn’t be bothered to really prepare for bed. The dress you wore was moveable, the corset easily undone as it tied in the front rather than in the back. Laying back you took a deep breath, closing your eyes momentarily to let go of all the stress that you could. After a minute of peace you pushed yourself up and off the bed, walking over to the dark wood armoire, opening it to look in the mirror, you sighed looking at your dress. There was stew on the navy skirt and what looked like a sizable carrot. You’d have to change to sleep. Lifting the skirt up closer you plucked off the carrot and disposed of it in the nearby waste basket. Returning to the armoire you flipped your braid back over your shoulder and checked the white sleeves of the off the shoulder blouse, slid your hands over the black corset, grabbing the tied strings from the vertex of the sweetheart neckline you untied the knot. Just as you’d finished untying the security knot you heard a loud grinding bang from the lower level. Pausing to listen you grew concerned.

“Mother? Are you alright?” You called gently.

When you didn’t receive a response you dropped the corset strings and left your bedroom, looking over the bannister you were met with the worst sight you could possibly have imagined. A large piece of the stone floor was broken and pushed out of the ground, slid off to the side and two large men climbed out of the dark hole below. Half a million questions filled your head. How was there a space under the floor? How did these men find you? Did they know who you were? There wasn’t time to think, you had to act. Silently and quickly you snuck back into your bedroom, burning out the lamps and climbing into the armoire as best as you could. Tilting your chin up to silence your breathing you listened. Waiting. Thinking. The men were much bigger than you thought a man would be. From what you could make out they dressed in dark clothing. Leather. Worn and hardly taken care of if at all. They were similar heights. One a redhead and the other blonde, both with rugged facial hair. You only had a brief look and the adrenaline pumping through your veins was making it difficult to focus.

“I am never doing that shit again, forty feet of crumbling bricks and thirty feet of rope, you seriously didn’t think that through?!” You could hear them arguing.

“It didn’t look that tall alright? Can we just find the chick and get out of here? I lost my good boots in a poker game with trash panda and if I don’t win them back he’s gonna tear them apart.”

It was clear they were coming for you. The only thing you could do was hope mother came home or that they didn’t see you behind all the other clothing in the armoire. The stairs creeped. Once. Twice. There was only one creaky step. They were both coming up. You held your breath.

“Food on the stove and the lamp in here is still warm. She was here recently.” They made it into your bedroom.

“If I had to guess I’d say she’s still here.” The footsteps stopped. It was silent.

Suddenly, the hem of your skirt was yanked-it had been caught in the door-and then the armoire burst open. The blonde man grabbed your arm as you struggled, ripping you from the small dark space and out into the open. He spun you around, pressing your back to his chest, his left forearm braced across your neckline and gripped your right shoulder. His right hand held a sharp silver blade to your heart.

“Well, well, well, Princess did we catch you at a bad time? These corset strings are so very loose for company.” The blonde man taunted, using the tip of his blade to pull on the cords.

You gripped this forearm, pushing back closer to his chest in an effort to get away from his blade as you struggled.

“P-please just leave me alone, I won’t tell any-anyone.” You stuttered, trying to stay calm the way your mother had taught you.

“We have plans for you, this hair of yours… hear there’s some people willing to pay a pretty penny for just a touch.” The red headed man stroked your braid, you jerked your head away.

“Oh oh oh” the blonde man laughed. “She’s a feisty one, are you sure we have to deliver her so soon? Could be fun…”

“Oh c’mon man don’t be gross he wants her unharmed. Mostly. C’mon just cloth her so we can go. Boots remember??” The red head said, grabbing your wrists and tying them together roughly. He took the dagger from the blonde, continuing to hold it in its position as the blond reached into his pocket.

“No no no no no please please I’ll give you anything you want just leave me alone!” You begged, swerving your head away from the blondes clothed hand as it moved towards your mouth.

“Bitch stop fussing around!” He slid his left forearm up to your throat, both choking you and effectively stabilizing your head long enough to clamp the cloth over your mouth and nose.

It hardly took thirty seconds before your vision started to swim and your vision started to fade to black.

“We’re already late. He’s waiting.” One of the men said as he slipped a cloth bag over your head. Your hearing went out, senses dulled as you gave in the the dark.

[kuekyuuq]

Praise and blind spots... (6x12)

I know, I wouldn't be able to do the topic justice, so I will refrain from going in too deep into 6x12′s plot. This is not my usual format and will focus more on the series as a whole, in light of this episode...

Azie Tesfai wrote a beautiful episode on a very important topic. And managed to tie it in to what Supergirl (the show) needed to be, among other things.

Yes, it's a superhero show. But that's the thing: While movies have the luxury to keep their focus on the big picture, series should also find the time to address the micro-cosmos, the consequences, the backlash, the whole canvas.

We watch shows these days, that are more and more departing from the olden format of episodic and towards the serialized - meaning, not only villain-arcs (vaguely) span over the whole of a season, but also the main characters' developments and evolution... and more importantly the stories and characters surrounding them. This should allow for interesting stories to be told in the background, without becoming background-noise. What saddens me, is that Supergirl only really started using this narration device in an effective way in its final season. With a very important topic, that while having been touched on before, deserved a good depiction, worthy of it's depth.

In this season we had two episodes before, that made me happy on that level - both also heavily featuring Azie's character, Kelly. The story about the young black man and his little brother was a heartfelt one, a relatable and thought-provoking story, given more depth by being picked up again. Being treated not as just another plot-device.

Oh, I wished we had a time-machine, cut out so many of the unnecessary and bland filler stories (that never really went anywhere) and got to dive in deeper into the many topics CWSG checked off it's PC list during its run and actually told something worth revisiting. Like this. Like what Azie did right here in 6x12.

Now, we’ve got this little gem. In the last season. Focusing on one of the secondary main-characters. The girlfriend of the sister of the titular hero... While the titular hero herself is and has been side-lined in the past 4 episodes. (If not longer... *sigh*)

I really liked this episode. I really love its format. And the topic is so very important. On all its depicted levels (and there were many).

...why did this have to happen only now?

On one hand, I feel, this is something the series can be remembered for. The last season's arc of Kelly and the story her character has to tell, the awareness this story brings forward. In a show, that should have so much impact.

On the other, I feel it's taking up room from our main character, when there should be time spend addressing Kara's traumas, her healing, her relationships.... her story. And in better hands, we possibly could have (had) both. But, alas, this is the CW.

We should have had this episode two seasons ago!

Now we have a new hero, build up before the series' finale, when we know the new Guardian will not get to shine or tell her stories (is there even talk about a spin-off for her?).

I hope, sincerely, that the last stretch of episodes will be able to balance its stories much better. That Kelly - now that her story and origin and drive has been told - will not sink back into the shadows, while we also get more Kara (and let’s not forget wrapping up the rest of the Superfriends’ arcs).

The show hardly felt like "Supergirl" in a while now. Kara is there, yes. And I get the behind-the-scenes reasons as of why they had to have her on her own separate adventure for the first 7 episodes. But... there are so many unresolved topics around Kara, herself. (IMO, the only character that continuously got this much attention is Lena Luthor, having almost more background-story, character build-up, -arc, emotional depth and consequences, personal and surrounding her, than Kara - including the horrible over-the-top mess that was season 5.)

Gosh, the show even made a point of having Kelly say, that it wasn't Kara's job to deal with these little things. Which is right and wrong at the same time. Supergirl is an over-powered superhero. Which brings conflict in its own right. Which - in a series - should leave room to explore her as a person and dealing with the chasm between her powers and her vulnerability, her character, her emotions, her traumas, her desires, hopes and dreams and wishes, her evolution and re-evaluations...

Kara Zor-El Danvers should be the - or at least a - focus in her (last!) season.

And on top of that, we should get to see what happens when the heroes dust off their hands and leave the scene after fighting the big bad.

Consequences. The show has been horrendously bad at addressing those before. The Children of Liberty arc tried to deal with that... but in a way that lead to extremists, and for the sake of a big bad - rather than in a relatable Everyman / Everwoman / Every..person(?) way.  This episode did that. The previous Kelly episodes did that. So very well...

...addressing the little people, the normal people, the minorities, the (unintentional) victims, the over-looked, the individual sufferings, the by-standers...

...but also unintentionally showcasing the shortcomings of the show in a very unflattering way. But I guess, for an episode titled “Blind Spots”, that attempts to cast light on things that have been ignored before, that’s rather fitting...

... I don't think, I can say much else without accidentally taking away from Azie’s master piece or her intent and thoughtful execution...

I did very much appreciate the "24h earlier" bit, showing Kelly's tale paralleling the 'grand adventures' of the Superfriends.

I did not think, Diggle needed to keep telling Kelly how proud her brother would be, as Kelly should not need her brother's thumbs-up or for the show to yet again inadvertently compare a female to their male 'counterpart'. Kelly's Guardian will (hopefully) not be like James'. Just like Supergirl is her own woman and comparing her to Superman is just inadequate.

...and I love how even the mail was quicker than the jet that brought Lena back to National City.

...

I love the show for its quirkiness. Not the unintentional one, but the funny and goofy bits. For Kara being walking (or flying) sunshine incarnated, but also relatable in her day-to-day struggles. For characters with so much promise that I got so much more invested in the show, than its average writing deserves. It is a series, that had so much potential. To tell big and small stories, important and impactful stories. Fun, sad, thought-provoking, entertaining, exciting, adventurous, soothing, real, fantastic... I never asked for the show to 'pick a lane' (I'd take Lucy...) because there has always been potential to meld so many themes and motives and ...moods together - that's what an ensemble cast is perfect for.

Thank you, Azie Tesfai, for a great episode!

Fingers crossed, the last stretch of the show will be able to keep up with a bar suddenly raised so very high.

[lucisfavoritedemon]

Something Domestic

Pairing: Bucky x reader

Summary: You never thought your life to be grand, but you never saw as absolutely terrible either. You were always happy with the things you had, but the one thing that you always wanted was to find love. Little do you know love is just two steps away, and across the hall.

Square Filled: Neighbor AU @marvelfluffbingo

Warnings: super cute fluff, anxious Bucky, shy reader, slight smut, implied smut, slight angst 18+ ONLY

Word Count: 3573

A/N: This originally was going to be a platonic Sebastian Stan x reader fic, but I got inspired to do something else. I was somewhat inspired by a TikTok POV called Two Lost Souls by hlovesmarvelpov which is where I got the idea to write what life was like for Bucky in Romania. I want to give credit to @nix-akimbo whose art I used in the collage for this story. Pics are linked here, here, and here. Other images we're found off of Pinterest, but the collage is mine made on Canva. Everything in italics is 3rd person POV of Bucky’s thoughts. This is not beta read, so all mistakes are mine.

Enjoy!

I never knew where life would lead me. I knew I wasn’t going to find something to do to make me rich. All I really wanted was to find a good job that paid me enough to get by. Living in Romania was an absolute dream. It was so beautiful, and it was always so interesting. Everyday felt like a new adventure. At the market you never knew who was gonna show up, or what was going to happen.

One day while at the market, just shopping for some fresh produce to restock my apartment with for the week, I saw an interesting looking man. I had never seen him before, and he definitely didn’t look like he was from around here. Something about him drew me in, but I was too shy to approach him to say hello.

I was definitely at that age where I was ready to look for mister right, and finally settle down. I seemed to have met every guy in this city, and none of them were to my liking. They all seemed very bold, manly, and had egos bigger than some of the buildings. That wasn’t really something I was looking for, and to be fair it was probably just part of their personalities, no judgement there.

There was something about this stranger though that was different. Yes, he was very handsome and buff, but he looked very shy and reserved. Not something I was used to, and that probably contributed to why I was so attracted.

He seemingly glanced my way, and I turned to look away. I knew I must have been staring and I felt awkward about that. So, I quickly finished up my shopping and ran home. I really hoped though that I didn’t make him think that I found him creepy. Damn my shyness, and anxiety.

It had been a few days since I saw the stranger at the market. I was walking down the street to my office when I happened to pass him by. He seemed to pause his gaze for a quick second before looking away. I walked past him at a decent pace, hoping he would make the first move to say hi, but alas, he did not.

The week went by, and it came time for me to head back to the market to restock my produce for the week. I ended my shopping spree and turned to head home when I ran right into someone's very muscular chest. I almost fell back when the person grabbed my arm, catching me.

“Are you okay, miss?” The person asked, speaking Romanian.

“I am fine thank you.” I looked at the person, and it was the stranger I saw last week.

“You’re welcome. Sorry I knocked you over.”

“Please, don’t apologize. I was the one who bumped into you.”

“At least allow me to help you carry your groceries home.”

I nodded and handed him a bag. He gestured for me to start walking, and I led him to my apartment complex. “My place is a bit messy, I wasn’t expecting anyone to come over to see it.” I said, going to unlock the door.

“Don’t apologize, I won’t go in if you feel uncomfortable.”

“I feel bad having you follow me all this way, and not even offer you a snack or something.”

“You’re too sweet. I’m okay, doll. I’ll stay out here. It also wasn’t too out of the way for me.”

“Are you sure?” I reached my hand out to take the bag he was holding.

“I’m sure,” he handed me the bag and turned to walk away, “and if you need me, I live just across the hall.” He walked over, unlocking his door, and opening it.

I almost fell back in shock. How did I not know this man lived across the hall from me? I surely would have seen him walking out. He turned and smiled at me before walking into his apartment. I tried not to look shocked, but all this time I had no idea he was living just 5 steps away. 

I close my door quickly and go to put my produce away. I tried to keep the stranger off my mind, but that seemed like an impossible task. Then, I thought of the perfect idea, I would invite him over for dinner. I wanted to get to know him, I needed to. Put all these wandering thoughts to rest.

I made us a lovely dinner of chicken and potatoes. I set everything up to look somewhat nice, and go to knock on his door. When I went to open my door to walk out, he was standing there ready to knock on my door.

He had a bouquet of different assorted flowers. I give him a small, shy smile as he hands them to me. I, of course, take them and find a vase to put them in. As I put them in the water, I look over at him, and he looks kind of sad.

“What’s wrong?”

“Are you expecting someone? I didn’t mean to come off straight forward. I just-”

“I wasn’t technically. I was going to ask you if you wanted to join me for dinner?”

“Really?” He perked up, and I nodded my head, “I was going to ask you the same thing. A home cooked meal sounds better than one you can get at any restaurant.” He chuckled.

We sat down, and talked for hours. He avoided some of the questions I asked him, but I wasn’t going to push him for answers if he didn’t want to answer them yet. We laughed, joked, and just enjoyed each other’s company. 

“I realised that I never asked for your name, doll.” He spoke up.

“My name is Y/n. I never asked yours either.”

“I guess we both figured it would come up eventually. My real name is James, but you can call me Bucky.”

I smiled as I thought of what a lovely name that was. I didn’t ask why he preferred Bucky over James. Something in me wanted to make him love it, adore it. I wanted him to treasure his given name as I was right now.

The night came to an end much to our dismay. I didn’t want to say goodnight though. I wanted him to stay, which wasn’t like me at all. I usually said yes to one date, and that was that. I don’t know what was different about Bucky, but he brought out a new side of me. He intrigued me, and I had to know more about him.

“Until next time, doll. Promise you won’t bump into another guy before then?” He chuckled.

I giggle, “I promise. You’ll be the only guy I bump into now. At least that’s my hope.”

He kissed my cheek before walking to his door, and I could have sworn I was flying. If that was the way it felt when he kissed my cheek, what would it feel like if he kissed my lips.

~*~

Over the course of three months every Sunday Bucky and I had dinner together. We started with switching off, but slowly Bucky had been taking over our Sunday night dinners. Tonight when I went over I realised that I was slowly moving into his apartment. 

“You okay doll?” He asked, looking at my far off look.

“Yeah. I just realised it looks like I’m starting to take over your apartment.”

“That was one thing I was going to ask you about tonight.”

“I’m so sorry, I’ll pick up my stuff and take back to my place i didn’t-”

“Not that. I was going to ask if you wanted to move in together. It doesn’t have to be in my apartment, and I know we’ve only been together for a few months, but-”

“You want to move in together?”

Bucky just nods slowly, and I rush to hug him. I no longer had to wonder what it would feel like to be wrapped up in his arms. I no longer had to feel that lonely feeling I felt after our Sunday night dinners. I tried to keep my mind from racing with all the things I had wondered about. 

“I’ll take that as a yes.” Bucky chuckles, squeezing me back.

After dinner, we walked over to my apartment to get some extra blankets and pillows. I hoped I hadn’t rushed him into this by slowly looking like I was trying to move myself in on my own. I hadn’t even realised that our hangouts had left with me leaving my belongings all over the place.

“My place is your place now.” He spoke up, placing the blankets he was carrying on the bed.

“I didn’t rush you into this did I?”

“No. I know it seems quick, but I just get this feeling when I’m around that makes me not want to take things as slow as we probably should.”

“I was worried I was rushing you into things. I didn’t even realise that I was leaving things over at your house.”

“No. I have been planning on asking you for a few weeks now.”

I smile as we curl into bed together for the very first time. He was warm, and I felt safe laying in his arms. Laying there for the first time in a long time, I fell asleep almost immediately.

~*~

It has been 6 months since Bucky and I started seeing each other, and it has been the best 6 months of life. Even the last 3 months have been amazing. I have enjoyed every minute I have spent with Bucky. He is sweet and kind, and I couldn’t ask for anyone better. He had my heart in his hands, and I didn’t want it back.

The only thing that was strange is he didn’t talk about his life at all. He wanted to hear all about my life, but he wouldn’t speak about his life prior to coming to Romania. I knew he originally came from America because we both switched from speaking Romanian to English when we are alone.

“Is everything okay, doll?” Bucky asked, tearing me from my thoughts.

“I was just thinking.”

“About what? You know you can tell me anything right?”

“Tell you, yes. Ask, no.” I kind of snapped as I stood up to put my plate in the sink.

“Is everything okay?” I could hear the panic in his voice, and I didn’t mean to hurt him, but I knew I had to say something, or it would eat me alive.

“I just don’t get why you want to hear all about me, but avoid questions about your life. I get it if you don’t want to talk about it now. I just don’t like it when you dodge it altogether.”

“Okay I understand that, and I’m sorry.”

Bucky really was sorry. He didn’t want to scare her away with the horrors of his past. He wanted her to know more about him. He wanted her to know that he is way older than what she may think he is. That he fought side by side with Captain America during WWII. 

He couldn’t get the words out though. He would lie awake at night trying to figure out how to tell her. Even on the nights when he found it hard to sleep, and he couldn’t lay there anymore, he wanted to wake her and just spill all the stories. 

He found warmth and comfort in her, but he didn’t want to haunt her with his past. He couldn’t taint such an angel like her, no matter how bad he wanted her to know. To hear her voice break just a little as she expressed how she felt broke him.

“You don’t have to be sorry. I just want you to know that it hurts me a little whenever you don’t give an explanation.”

“I want to tell you all about my life, but I just can’t bring myself to do it. I’m sorry.” His eyes went down, and my heart broke for him.

“James, look at me please?”

Bucky loved when she called him James. It was like she was trying to teach him to love his given name, and it was working. It rolled off her tongue so sweetly, and it came out so easily. He couldn’t help but obey when she asked him in that sweet tone of hers.

“The fact that you want to is enough for me right now. I’m not upset,” I smile sweetly at him, and walk over, placing my hand on his, “I don’t want to push. When you are ready, my love, I will be here waiting to listen contently.”

Bucky’s heart sighed in relief. He was worried that he had mucked everything up. He cared too much about her to let himself ruin things. If she wasn’t content with his response he would have told her everything. If it meant keeping her happy, he would give her the world. 

~*~

My conversation with Bucky seemed to have gone well. He slowly started to open up little by little. He was a bit vague, but at least he was trying. The first time he actually opened up a little was the first night I had noticed he was having a nightmare.

He was tossing and turning in his sleep, and I began to worry. I had heard never to wake someone up from a nightmare, so I sat there till he shot up. He was covered in sweat, and breathing heavily. He went to lay back down not realising I was already awake until I turned on the light. He looked over with sad, apologetic eyes. I just laid my hand on the small of his back letting him know everything was okay.

“I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“You didn't, I was already awake.”

I caressed his cheek, rubbing my thumb against his cheek. He slowly leaned in, and I followed until our lips came together. Sparks flew between us, and I felt butterflies. His lips were soft and gentle. The gentle kiss though soon turned into more. 

Bucky was gentle and slow. Making sure he wasn’t pushing my comfort level, and made sure he wasn’t hurting me. It felt amazing, and was the best night ever. I hoped that with Bucky and I becoming so intimate he would see that no matter what, I wasn’t going to go anywhere.

Bucky wasn’t sure how Y/n would feel if he initiated the kiss, but she put just as much passion into it as he did. He pushed into it more, and she returned it. Before he knew it he was on top of her naked body. He made sure he didn’t push her to do something she didn’t want to, but he could tell in her eyes she had been waiting a long time for this moment.

He made sure to be as gentle with her as he possibly could, but the urge to be inside her was too much for him to bear anymore. The room was filled with their moans as their bodies were connected so intimately.

Bucky felt that everything was going to be okay between them after that night. He held her as tight as possible after that, and was able to sleep through the rest of the night. Maybe he was worried about nothing. He felt like he could do anything now as long as he had her by her side.

~*~

“James, will you run out and get some fruit for me?” I hollered from the kitchen.

Bucky came into the room as he finished getting dressed, “anything specific you want?”

“No, just something I can turn into jam. The stand has been doing really well, and I’m running low on fruit.”

Bucky smiled as he walked over to me kissing my cheek, “anything for you, doll.”

Bucky left shortly after that, and I started to package the batch I had already made. Once I finished jarring what I had, I went to the walk-in pantry we had and started to shelve them. I thought I heard the door open so I called out to Bucky, but I got no answer.

“Everything alright out there my love?” I walked out of the pantry to be met by a man dressed in an all blue outfit. He was carrying a shield on his back that was red, white, and blue with a white star in the center.

He was looking through our kitchen, and I began to panic. I had no idea who this man was, or why he was in our apartment. I couldn’t find words to say when he noticed me.

“Where is Bucky?”

“Why do you want to know?” I asked, speaking in Romanian.

The man just turned around and looked at the top of the fridge. He pulled down a book, and that’s when I felt a hand on the small of my back. I jumped slightly at first then I realised it was Bucky behind me.

The stranger turned around, and saw Bucky. He started asking weird questions like if Bucky knew him, or why he pulled him from a river? All of it was so confusing and worrying to me. Before I knew it we were being attacked by the police. 

Bucky took off and I tried to follow him, but the stranger told me to stay put. Once the fight took the streets, I tried to follow on foot. By the time I got where I thought they would come out of, they were being surrounded. Bucky was being shoved to the ground and handcuffed. 

“James!” I yelled, rushing to him, and fighting the blockade of police.

They shoved me back, but I fought back harder. It was no use though as they loaded Bucky into a huge truck. I felt like my world had just come crashing down on me. Everything that happened this last year all came flooding back to me. I knew I had to get Bucky out of there. He was an innocent man, and I knew as long as we had each other, there would be nothing we couldn’t conquer.

~*~

Y/N tried to move on as best she could, but her heart felt empty. The day they took Bucky away in handcuffs was the day her heart left her. She closed her stand in the market, and went back to her dead end job. She moved out of their shared apartment because the thought, or even smell of him was too painful.

Y/n thought that the love of her life was gone forever. She even thought about moving away permanently, but loved the city too much to do that. The once bright and bubbly girl went back to her old reclusive self before she met him. No one had ever put the light back into her. Her smile was gone, and she hardly ever laughed anymore.

She was returning home from work one night, and decided to take the long way home. She wandered towards her old apartment complex as she often did. Ignoring the weird looks she got from the people she passed by, she kept her eyes to the ground. That was her mistake as she was lost in thought when she bumped into a muscular chest, almost falling to the ground. 

A firm gentle hand grabbed her arm kept her from falling, and she fought back tears as she remembered her very first full encounter with Bucky. “I’m sorry, I should have been paying attention.” Her voice broke as she fought back the pain, not wanting to look the stranger in the eyes.

“It’s okay. I’m sorry I almost knocked you over.”

“Please don’t apologize. I was-”

“The one who bumped into me?” 

Y/n heard the man chuckle and almost felt like she could hear Bucky behind the chuckle. She gained enough courage to look up at the stranger who she bumped into, and the person she saw was not who she was expecting.

“You okay doll? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

She didn’t even hesitate to jump into his arms. It was the reunion she waited almost two years for. He picked her up and held her tightly as if he let her go, she would disappear. Y/n nuzzled her face in the crook of his neck taking in his scent.

“I’m sorry I left you. I-”

“It’s not your fault James. You’re back, and that’s all that matters.”

Bucky pulled away slightly from the hug to look her in the eyes. He pulled her in for a soft, gentle kiss. For the first time since that terrible day, Y/n smiled into the kiss. Now that they were back in each other’s arms, she finally felt like her heart was put back together. 

She didn’t care what happened, she was just happy to have him back in her arms. She was happy he was safe and sound with her again. The light in her eyes had returned, and Bucky felt like he was falling in love with her all over again. The world could throw whatever it wanted at him now. He had his girl back, and he felt like he could overcome anything as long as he kept her by his side for the rest of his life.

[morning-might-arrive]

Here’s the continuation of my last post. Thank you so much to everyone who liked and reblogged! This is becoming a lot longer than I thought, so there will be another part soon. Feedback is appreciated!

A series of misunderstandings involving a limousine and Spectra’s blog lead Jackson to the realization that he has way more friends than he thought.

Wednesday

Jackson sighed as he silenced his blaring alarm clock. 7:00 am. As he walked to the bathroom to get ready, he was suddenly struck by a memory.

“It’s nothing personal, normie. You just look like such a freak.” Manny told him as he shoved him off of the lunch table. Jackson looked towards the other mansters, but they said nothing. So they all agreed. Even Clawd. 

He cringed. He’d had to eat lunch in a bathroom stall that day. He looked at his reflection, desperately wishing he could change it. He sighed and got dressed. He had to leave early since he now had no car and his parents weren't home. He plugged his headphones into his phone. Holt had gotten them into this situation, only fitting that he deal with it.

Holt Hyde cursed under his breath as he walked to school. Although the weather was warming, mornings in March were still frigid. He sighed in relief as he approached Monster High.

“Heya there, sweetpea,” Operetta drawled in greeting as Holt waltzed through the front doors of the school. 

“What’s good, Oppy?” Holt responded, his usual loud and energetic self even at the early hour.

“Just peachy keen like always, hun. Say, you seen the Ghostly Gossip lately?” She asked.

“Nah, we usually stay away from that garbage ever since that story about us and Frankie. Humiliated the poor ghoul and almost tanked our relationship. It really ain’t cool what they're doin’.” He replied nonchalantly. 

“Oh. Okay. Well sugar, you know you can tell me anythang you wanna, right?” She continued.

“Uh, yeah, sure. Thanks Oppy.” That was kinda weird for the rough and tumble ghoul to say, but honestly Holt was just glad their botched attempt at dating didn’t mess up their friendship. Oppy was a cool ghoul. 

“What’s the word, cool cats?” Came a new voice.

“Johnny!”

“Johnny.”

Johnny spirit sauntered casually down the main corridor of Monster High, and students jumped out of his way as if he had the plague. He put his arm around Operetta’s shoulder. “Hey, babe.”

Holt snorted. “I’ll never get why everyone lets you float around like you own the place.”

Johnny shrugged. “Guess they don’t have a choice. Besides, I never see you doing anything about it,” he replied with a bit of challenge in his tone. Holt rolled his eyes.

“You know you don’t scare us, Spirit. Anyway, it seems like Oppy’s got you on a leash without our help.”

Johnny bristled at that “Y’know Hyde, I’m gettin’ real sick of-”

“Why don’t we scamper on down to the catacombs and finish that new song we been workin on, sugarpie?” Operetta cut in. She really didn’t want to deal with a fistfight this early.

The couple walked away and Holt made toward the auditorium. He found the symphony on stage setting up and dashed up to join them, plugging his guitar into its amp. Jennifire was nearby greasing the corks on her clarinet. He huffed and sat down next to her.

“Another run in with the phantom pianist?” She asked, not even looking up.

“That guy is such a jerk!”

She chuckled and shook her head. “You boys are so easily provoked; I may never understand it. My brothers were just the same. He has done not to insight your anger.”

Holt really hated to admit it, but she was right. Johnny really didn't scare Holt, and he knew a little better than to try that tough guy act on Jackson. Plus, it was kinda funny seeing guys like Heath and Manny faint when he walked past them.

“Your emotions run like wildfire, I am very impressed you came to terms so easily with your end.” She continued.

Wait. What. “My what now?”

“Of course, it must be so hard for you to talk about. I am sorry.” A tear fell from her eye and promptly turned to smoke upon hitting her face.

“Jen, are you okay?” Holt asked, facing her.

She smiled. “Yes, I will be okay. So kind of you to think of me.”

“Okay, Okay, enough chit chat. Places people!” The director yelled as he approached the stage. Well. That was weird. Holt took his place in the stool beside the amp and looked up as the director began counting them off.

After an awkward hour of rehearsal, they were dismissed to second period. Holt emerged out into the crowd of students in the hall. Jennifire was nowhere to be found, so he made his way toward the art room. His Spotify playlist suddenly changed to a song by Pierce the Veil. He pulled out his phone to skip it and saw he had a message from Jackson. He scoffed. If D-low had told him what was wrong, would he be asking? JJ could be so oblivious. Maybe it was just a normie thing. 

He took his usual seat in front of his canvas and continued his painting for this week. 

“Psst, Holt.” he heard a whisper. He turned and met the shiny magenta eyes of retired popstar Catty Noir. “We’re turning up at Cleo’s place on Saturday, you in?”

“Yeah totally- oh, nevermind. We can’t make it, we kinda got a...thing that day.”

“Oh,” she said, looking kind of taken aback. “It’s that soon?” 

“What was that?”

“ I said I’ll see you soon!” she hastily corrected herself as she got up and turned in her painting, promptly leaving the art room. Man, everyone's acting off today. He touched up his work and quickly followed suit.

He basically had the rest of the period to himself, so he decided to riff on his guitar for a little bit. He couldn’t do it in the building anymore ever since that one time Headmistress Bloodgood caught him, so he moved to the front steps and set his bag beside him.

“Hey Holt!”

Holt turned towards the front of the school. “Frankie Fine-Stein! Where have you been hiding?” Her skin glowed a light mint green and her eyes sparked in the sun. Just as bootiful as ever. She sat on the step beside him.

“I was actually just in the library. I found this book about the original Jekyll and Hyde. It was way harsh; It said that Edward Hyde trampled a child in the streets of London, is that true?”

“Nuh-uh! Those stuffy normie’s didn’t like that grandpa’s were different so they dragged their reputation through the dirt!” Holt declared passionately. “Some of the people they charged him with killing didn’t even exist in the first place! Then they made Dr. Jekyll out to be a complete basket case and threw them both in jail! That is until they got bailed out by our great-great-grandma, Lucy.”

“Oh, man. I didn’t know any of that!” Frankie replied. She actually knew all about it, she had heard the exact same thing from Jackson before. They were both incredibly salty about the smear campaign launched against their great-great-grandparents that made their family flee to America in the first place, and you could hardly bring it up around them without a passionate rant. Frankie felt a little bad about bringing up something she knew was a sore subjet for them, but she had to make sure Spectra and the other ghouls didn’t get caught. It was for their own good, right?

Her phone buzzed in her lap and she glanced down. “Spectra got something, meet us back in the library.” Clawdeen. Frankie jumped up. “Sorry, Holt, I really gotta go.”

Holt watched her go in curiosity. He checked the time and quickly jumped up himself and dashed back inside the building. The only way to not be late now was to go through Section C, the so-called “vampires only” hallway. It really irked them when other monster’s used it, but he didn’t really care when it was either that or detention. As he made his way through he felt someone glaring at him, and met eyes with a large group of the former prep-school vampires. He braced himself, but instead of giving him grief like they usually did, they just let him pass. They were acting weird, but so was everyone else. Oh well, he didn’t really have time to think about it now.

Holt’s third period was Chemistry 2 with Mr. Hack. No thanks. Science was never his strong suit. Plus, there was seriously something off about this particular teacher. He just took a little too much pleasure in the cutting open of living things for Holt’s liking. He pulled out his phone.

“Keep an eye out. Today’s been weird, Bro.” He typed the message out and then disconnected his phone from his headphones. The world went dark.

Jackson blinked a few times. What was that ringing sound? “Oh, shOOT!” He bolted through the closest door- which just happened to be the right one- and took his seat as the bell finished ringing.

Mr. Hack passed out a hefty amount of worksheets to the class. “Okay class: no whispering, no talking, no looking around, no coughing or sneezing, no you can’t use the bathroom, and if I catch you on your cell phone the whole class gets detention. You have until the end of the class to complete the worksheets or it's a 0 for today.”

Everyone groaned. Good old Mr. Hack. Charming and likeable. Jackson tried to ignore the stares and whispers in his direction as he did his work. He knows he’s different, don’t they ever get tired of reminding him? Were they all paying more attention to him than usual, or was it just his imagination? He blazed through his work in about 20 minutes, it was just some simple thermodynamics equations. He looked up and noticed that Mr. Hack was asleep. Typical. Half the class were on their phones and the other half were talking amongst themselves. He pulled his phone out and saw Holt’s message.

Huh. Maybe it wasn’t just his imagination then, everyone was acting a little odd. Granted, every day at Monster High was pretty weird. Last week they had lost their school crest in a rollerblading contest and the school nearly toppled over, so maybe he could just ignore whatever this was.

The bell finally rang for lunch. He set his work on Mr. Hack’s desk as he jolted awake and practically ran from the room. He shot Clair a text

“Okay, transportation is set and decorations bought. Am I forgetting anything?”

“Measurements, goofy.” She responded almost instantly.

“Oh, right. I can get a tape measure from the woodshop teacher and get them during lunch.”

“Have you told the other monsters about Saturday?”

“No. I just don’t know how they’ll react, y’know?”

“Aren’t they always telling you about how you don’t belong? So why would they care?”

“Yeah you’re probably right. It’s just a difficult situation.”

“Yeah, I hear you. Let me know how it goes.”

Looking down at his phone, he didn’t notice Draculara until he bumped her as he passed.

“So sorry!” He exclaimed. 

“It’s alright.” She reassured him as she walked away. She made her way to the library where her friends were already gathered around in a circle. Spectra floated in the center.

“What’s this all about?” Draculara asked.

“While Frankie had Holt distracted, Spectra looked in his locker.”

“Well what did she find?” Cleo demanded.

“Just this. It appears to be a receipt for some kind of car rental.”

Clawd glanced at his phone. “Heath says Jackson is in the boys locker room right now taking measurements of himself and writing them down.” He told the group.

“Then what Spectra said is true.” Fraknie finally admitted. The room fell into extended silence.

“Well we can at least show Jackson he means something to us.” Draculara spoke up.

“Yeah,” Frankie agreed, “we can do something nice for him and Holt.”

“What are we going to do? Hijack the gym and throw a huge party during lunch?” Cleo asked sardonically.

“You’re on a roll Cleo! It’ll be closed tomorrow, but we can do it Friday!” Clawdeen agreed.

Cleo smiled. Very well then. Friday would be a day for the monster history books.

[seostudios]

extraordinary

SEOSTUDIOS HALLOWEEN SPECIAL

synopsis. after the king went missing, y/n embarks on a journey to save her father from the kingdom's greatest secret, the fallen prince, who has locked him in his mother’s castle. trading herself in for her father's release, she soon realizes the supposed blood-sucking creature is just an arrogant prince and makes her mission to draw the cold-hearted boy out of his isolation.

pairing. kim doyoung x fem!reader

genre. romance, fantasy, angst, smut

info. prince!doyoung, vampire!doyoung, princess!reader, beauty-and-the-beast!au (with a twist), non-idol!au, medieval!au, prince!ex!jaehyun, brother!jaemin

warnings. mentions of blood and arranged marriage, alcohol, explicit language, unprotected sex, bondage, a really bad sex scene ugh

wc. 5.2k

an. hi happy halloween! i promised ‘angel’ for my halloween special but i feel like wizards were boring for halloween (no hate) but a beauty and the beast au with a vampire twist sounded sexy.. so i hope you enjoyed this romance au there a smut scene but i’m not proud since i have to pee rlly badly and wrote this in a rush (LOL) i hope the cover tricked u! it’s supposed to give a ‘blank’ theme... yk anyways ill try writing more tysm bye i love you all think of this as a halloween special + 700 special mwhamwah

The long curtain that draped over your bay windows had the same orange hue to the morning light, every morning a perfect sunrise. Reminding you of the sleepless nights spent just to get a view of the sun as it illuminated the blue as if it were igniting the most miraculous flame. Throwing the large duvet that once covered your canvas, you quietly tip-toe out of your shared bedroom with fiance and future king, Jaehyun, not trying to wake him yet.

By the time you're finished looking presentable to the outside world, you make your way down towards the kitchen. There was only a week before the wedding, so the castle was a little hectic. Seeing the tailor and his assistance run in an out the front gates, the chefs coming from far and wide to bake you the most flavoursome cake out there. The wedding was a big deal. I mean between merging kingdoms and scoring the most eligible bachelor in the land... It was huge! Jaehyun was known in his kingdom for his selfless actions, but elsewhere, it was his dashing looks. Although he still hasn't managed to swoop in and steal your heart, you had no choice but to let him believe he did so for the sake of your future.

"Princess!" The chef Johnny calls. He noticed you wandering out of your suite after using the restroom and just had to get some small talk done and possibly put in a good word for his close friend about to seal the deal with you. "Oh! Hey Johnny," You greet, flashing him a toothy grin. "It's almost the big day..." He exclaimed. Wow, he seems more excited than me, you think to yourself. "Right. I'm nervous," You confess, your frown now replacing the award-winning smile. Which didn't go unnoticed by Johnny. His eyes, which were once trained on you, shoot up to look behind your shoulder. "Speak of the devil!" He shouted, shooting you a couple glances before running over to Jaehyun, who has just woken up.

Now at the dining table, you and Jaehyun sit accompanied by his parents. "So, Y/N" His mother starts in attempts to spark a conversation. You shot your head up to listen in on what she has to say, "Did you know Jaehyun has an older brother? Doyoung." Silence. You all sat in an awkward stillness, glances between Jaehyun and his father, worried. "No, I didn't. Is he coming to breakfast?" Her cheerful demeanour was quick to shapeshift into a dejected expression. "He moved to Paris to expand his corporation." The hidden truth was that he didn't move at all. He was banished. This tall tale is told all over the lands, but it was just a tall tale about the prince, was it not?

Once upon a time, there lived a dashing prince. His name was Doyoung. Despite having all the money and power in the kingdom, it still felt like there was nothing left for him there if he still lingered in his younger brother's shadow. So the prince ventured off, hoping to find someone who'd appreciate him for himself. That's when he met the great sorcerer, Minyeon, known by only the wicked. She was a sly witch, moving only on the outskirts of the lands. Aching to pounce on any punk in the vicinity. Therefore when she noticed the prince and came to realize his selfish needs, she casts a spell. "You're stuck like this until you find peace eternally. Is being a greedy spoilt brat all you need to be a prince? Maybe you should be more like Jaehyun."  Those were her last words before disappearing into the woods. Doyoung quickly ran back home. Calling every wizard in town to inspect him. He was now cursed to live life as a blood-sucking monster unless he finds this peace. "You know we can't." His mother started. Doyoung's heart tore, hearing the crack in her voice. "I... I know Mother. I'll be quick." He said before finished packing the briefcase full of necessities. "I have a castle." She spits out, handing him a map. "Stay there. I will visit as much as I can," And it was the truth. She visited for the first few months until he started to change. The violent evil nature of a pure vampire, taking its place in Doyoung. That was no longer her son, and she couldn't risk venturing far to walk right into her death. 

And that was Doyoung’s story.

It's been about three years since the incident, and villagers still ponder on whether it's fiction or not, but with the heartbreaking look on Jaehyun's mother's face this morning, I think you got your answer. Acknowledging the elephant in the room, you and your future mother-in-law finish up and head into the fitting room with the tailor, leaving Jaehyun with his father. "He knows-" Jaehyun started, quickly being cut off by his father. "That's why we limited guests on such short notice and doubled the guards. He won't be able to get in." He affirmed before the sound of the chair screeching slowly, and someone sitting was heard. The two look down towards the end of the table. "I won't be able to what?" Doyoung said, throwing his feet on the table. 

死

"I really do think you look magnificent." The designer, Taeyong, chirped adjusting your corset. "Taeyong honey, don't you think that's a little tight? Y/N looks like she's turning blue." Jaehyun's mother jokes. Ever since you've departed from the boys at breakfast, she's been jumpy. Was she expecting someone? "Alright, here we go! Go take a look, princess." Nodding, you make your way to the large mirror. "Oh my! I love it! Thank you so much!" Doing a little twirl, as Jaehyun's mother cheers, showering you in compliments.

“So.. Y/N darling... How are things with Jaehyun?” She asked helping you undress after Taeyong exited. “What do you mean?” You asked curious, what could she mean? “You know this isn’t exactly a love marriage...” She hears a sigh from you. “I mean I like him!” Making sure you let her know that first, you turn away from the mirror to face her, “But not like that, he’s a good friend... Nothing more.” The confession left the still room feel like a ghost town. Jaehyun’s mother hands you a heartwarming smile, assuring you it’s okay. “You know, I think you’d be fit with my eldest son, Doyoung.” Smiling to herself she takes a loose strand of hair and places it behind your hair. “A-Are the rumo-” She nods. They were true, he really was a vampire. “May I ask where he is? Do you visit? How is he? Does he look like the vampires from the books?” All your questions erupt at once, causing her to burst into a fit of laughter. “Well where do I start?!” She says more to herself. “He’s in a castle, past the river banks and through the woods. Safe, hopefully. He’s also quite charming-” 

A knock at the door, grabs both of your attention. "Come in," You said, but something was off. An uneasy feeling turns in the pit of your stomach as the doorknob unwinds to reveal Jaehyun. "You can't be in here! Shoo!" His mother scolded, but Jaehyun raised his hand to silence her. "Y/N, your father."

“He’s what?!” You shout. “Been abducted? By who? He’s on everyone’s good side.” You state clearly. “It’s not his fault. It’s our fault.” He confessed, looking down at the marble tiles of the hushed room. “My brother, Doyoung. Took him.” A gasp is heard from his mother as her hand goes to rest on her chest to feel her heart. “Is Doyoung here?!” She asked. He shook his head. “He showed up and told Dad and I the news but left afterwards. He told me to pass the news over to you.” Jaehyun began to massage his temples, this was really getting to him. “He wants you to meet him at his castle to - discuss - your father's return to his kingdom.” And in a blink of an eye you were gone. Jaehyun’s mother didn’t give you exact directions but you could find out where his castle is. “What are you doing!? Stop her!!” His mother cries, “She doesn’t know what she’s heading into!” Before she was able to run out to you, Jaehyun stops her in her tracks. “This is not our battle, Mother.”

Running into your barn, You mounted Ivy, about to venture off possibly to your death. You were determined though, no matter what; you need your father back. Not for you but for the sake of your kingdom. “Come on girl, we’re gonna save Papa.” Ivy was originally a horse for the knights but it seemed like the two of you had more of a sibling bond than you and your younger brother, Jaemin... Not that you guys hated each other! The river banks were a easy to trot by, the boat passengers and fishers greeting you, and the woods wasn’t as dark and ominous as Jaehyun’s mom put it to sound like. 

There you were. Past the river banks, through the woods and you were led to the front gates of Doyoung’s castle. The castle was more ancient than any bone left in soil. The stone pathway pitted and scarred, looking up you notice it's tall walls, trees surrounded the castle. The large pillars, narrow, round towers dominate the skyline of this massive castle and are connected by enormous, firm walls made of cobblestone. Spooky was an understatement. You dismount Ivy and tie her loosely to an old log. “Stay here girl, I’ll be back with Papa.” Pushing the rusted gates open you throw your cloak over top your head and run towards the large wooden doors. Letting yourself in you examine the large foyer of the castle, it was much smaller than yours back home but the presence it held was bigger than any king to have walked the lands. Your breathing is rapid and shallow, you can feel your pulse pounding in your temples as you cautiously walked up the steps. "Doyoung?" You call out. A muscle twitches involuntarily at the corner of your right eye, after seeing a shadow swiftly move. He knows you're here. "I'm not scared of you." You spoke tenderly, moreso to convince yourself you weren't. Looking down the narrow hallway someone stands, before you were able to walk towards the figure he heads into a door. Now on a wild goose chase after Doyoung you reach a grand hall full of chambers, a dungeon. “Let me out you bastard!” An infuriated voice shouts. It’s your father. “Papa?! Where are you?” You cry running around the zigzag chamber. “Y/N? Over here Y/N!” He shouts once more, why were you here? 

There he was, there they were. Your father was on his knees, gripping the bars calling out for you, but beside him standing tall, he was a slender and well built man with pretty, unturned lip. His pale skin sparkled in the moonlight, his dark eyes matching the night sky above perfectly. Doyoung. Although your heart picked up at his astonishing facial features, you were enraged on why he would abduct your poor father. “Let him go at once!” You demand. He kisses his teeth and dangles a pair of keys above your head. “Only if you stay.” 

“I’ll be fine Papa.” You assure your father at the front gates of the castle. “Take Ivy and head home. I’ll be okay.” You embrace him once more, “But the wedding?!” Your eyebrows furrow. “It’s cancelled, why don’t you get Jaemin to merge with Jaehyun’s little sister, she just came of age and she’s arriving from Thailand tomorrow.” And thus the decision was made. You were now a resident at Doyoung’s, and your wedding was cancelled.

Sitting on the last step of the spiral staircase you watch Doyoung pace around the foyer, speaking to someone in a room. Didn’t he live alone? Getting up to explore the castle you were stopped by Doyoung, he’s quick on his toes. “Let me bring you to your room.” He said, his hand reaching out to you. Charming Slapping his hand you walk past him up the stairs towards whatever room you would make out to be your own. He trails behind you, “Feisty, I-” “I was talking to your mother about you earlier. I’m not dumb, I know it all.” Your began, opening a room door. “I want this room.” You demand, even if you showed him your stubborn side a little, it was fine. He did kidnap your father. Doyoung hums “Okay. Dinner in five” He chimed, before heading back down. The rest of the night was nothing out of the ordinary, other than the awkward glances to one another at dinner. In attempts of sparking something between the two of you Doyoung asks, “Did you enjoy dinner?” At the door frame of your bedroom. “Yeah,” All was well until you saw him begin to unbutton his dress shirt and head into the closet. “W-What do you think are you doing?” You asked frightened. Why was he undressing in your new bedroom. “Getting ready for bed?” “But don’t you have your own room?” You inquire confused. “You picked my room, so we share.” He replied. There were at least over a dozen bedrooms in this castle and you just had to pick his. “No take backs by the way, now get in bed love.” Kissing your teeth you throw on a pair of pyjamas you found in the closet; assuming it was his. Moving to the side of the bed to make a wall of pillows separating the two of you.

死

“It’s been over three months Doyoung.” This was one of those rare occasions you spoke at dinner. “And?” He questions. “I want to go home.” You stood your ground, it’s been over three months, nearing four and it’s safe to say this dinner was the most you’ve both communicated. “You are home,” He replies, taking a bite of his food. “No, it’s not. I sit in this castle reading books and talking to myself, I’m going mad!” You bark. “You traded yourself in for your fathers release, I can’t let you leave.” He always spoke softly but his words never failed to slice through you. 

Doyoung enters his bedroom, while you were downstairs cleaning up. He reaches into the back of his closet, sliding the clothes on the rack to the side, to reveal a mirror. It wasn’t an ordinary mirror, it was a magic mirror, to help Doyoung communicate with his mother without putting herself in danger. “I thought this was the peace I needed to come back.” He said to himself looking at his reflection. “Peace? This isn’t peace Doyoung.” A voice hollered throughout the still room as the mirror illuminated. “I know it isn’t mother, I can’t seem to find it. I’m trying.” The tension grew thick, he was frustrated. “Find peace in her.” She finally said. Just then, the mirror shatters. “Doyoung?” Your soft voice calls from the closet door. His head spins around as he readjusts the clothing. “What time is it?” He questioned, flaring with energy. “About fifteen minutes to eight, why?” This is where you start growing nervous. Although he’s kept to himself you know he yearned for human blood. “Let’s explore.” He grabs ahold of your hand running down to the front yard. “Wear this.” Handing you a coat he intertwines your hands as the two of you exit the premises. 

“Why are you being so weird?!” You roar demanding answers. “I want our friendship to blossom my love.” He spoke, a pang of guilt hitting him. Your cheeks suddenly kissed pink like the spring rose, the blooming colour so bright against your face. Looking forward,avoiding eye contact with Doyoung you tug his hand forward into the wilderness. “On my way here I remember seeing a bench surround with an ethereal setting.” You babble on the way to the destination. “Really? Would love to see it.” Doyoung replied uninterested. This didn’t go unnoticed by you so letting go of his hand you walk ahead. He catches up but doesn’t grab ahold of your hand. “I apologize.” He said, earning a scoff. “I really am, I’m all ears now.” The pleads went on until you reached the bench where you sat down and pulled out a book. “What’s that?” He asked. “A sketch book.” You reply, opening the book to reveal you artwork. “Whoa, Y/N these are amazing.” Astonished he grabs it out of you hand to flip through them, earning a rather adorable giggle from you, which did indeed cause a crack in Doyoung’s ice cold heart.

Your stay increased and the liking you had towards Doyoung has as well. Now there is never a dull moment at dinner, a new routine of late night walks. In all honesty, Doyoung hasn’t been the slightest interested in you up until last night. “Doie! Look at this, I drew you!” You cheer running over to the boy in his study. “Let’s take a look.” He stood in front of you, his eyes that told stories words couldn't, staring into your shiny orbs, piercing through you. He couldn’t help it, with your collar bones exposed with the large tee swallowing you whole.. You looked appetizing. So when his hand came in contact with your nape, leaning down, his mouth hovering over your neck, about to indulge he hears a whimper. “Doyoung..” He looks up to your frightened figure. However, you weren’t scared of him sucking a little blood out of you, just nervous of how close you were. “Doyoung. It’s okay...” You whispered your doe eyes staring right back at him. But he couldn’t, “I’m not a monster.”

These days Doyoung felt vulnerable around you. The once inhuman arrogant cursed prince acting as like another man. His crave and lust for blood sank and he desired something else, something more attainable at his end now; love. Though his love for you blossomed quickly he was insecure and full of doubt when it comes to confessing. The world seems to be on his side when the two love birds are together, fooling around, but once the tension grew his courage flees the scene. Weeks turned into months with this unbearable love for you; he no longer lusts for your friendship, he needs more. 

You sat on the edge of the king sized bed, gazing out the bay window that peered into the land. Stars shining over top the night sky, appearing like magic at each sunset. Sipping onto the last bit of hot chocolate in your mug you change into a silk night dress Doyoung has purchased for you, since he thought you should have a new wardrobe now that you live with him. Back hitting against the soft mattress you wrap yourself in the thick duvet, closing your eyes to think.

My friendship with Doyoung has really come far these past few nights. Just the other night he cooked me breakfast in bed, which was really thoughtful of him. His egoistic personality fading into a tenderhearted man. Under all the layers from his saddening past, becoming a monster from the storybooks, to his prince status. He was a normal guy. I know he wants to flee this wretched castle and run back home, though he fears what he capable of. How he could hurt his people, or worse, his family. The sinister persona taking over him that cut his bond from Jaehyun. Oh But past all this is a man... You love.

The door creaks and you noticed a disheveled Doyoung enter the room. Must have been up in the study racing his minds to wonder, you believe. “Hey you.” You chirp, to sit up on the bed unknowingly a strap falls from your shoulder exposing your collarbone. “Hello Y/N.” The reply was dry and nonchalant about. But all worries ended when he hops into the bed curling up into himself gathering warmth. You don’t know why but your heart skipped a beat when you glanced over at him, catching his stare up at you. You huff playfully before relaxing into the sheets. The two of you could’ve easily split rooms and been on your way but there was an urge for you to stay in his suite. Maybe it was the thirst to find out who he really was, and why his path was this rough... Or it was because ever since you met at the chambers, your heart always raced around him; no matter the occasion. The room was quiet, sitting in a comfortable silence, both of you awake. Should you tell him? Is this too quick? Were you ready? The questions spring around your mind for a couple seconds before being interrupted by a pleasant surprise. 

Doyoung’s hand makes it’s way to reach yours. The ice-cold finger tips, tracing over your hand. Skinship wasn’t rare but it was never making you consider he felt the same way. Intertwining your hands you turn to face him, to notice he was already looking at you. He wants to confess, he will confess. His mouth opens to speak, but quickly silenced with a pair of soft lips crashing onto him. Knowing his difficulty with words, actions seemed to have spoken better than them. His lips were warm and the taste of bourbon stung your tongue gracefully. Doyoung moves his hands from yours to rest on the back of your neck, pulling you closer to him. You two break apart for air, hesitantly looking at one another. Though his eyes told multiple stories, all you felt as of now was lust and desire. Giving yourself up to him, or how people back home would say; popping the cherry. Lips crash together and it felt like you were walking on air. The way your lips connected with his, molding together like they belonged, his mouth was so warm compared to the rest of him. The small tug onto your lips erupting a quiet moan is what gets him started.

死

You awoke to arms barricading around you, keeping your bare body close. The morning light shining through the closed blinds creating a funky pattern on the duvet. Your hands drawing funny little shapes on Doyoung's bare chest. Last night sure was hectic, he's got a lot of stamina for someone who claimed to be tired. Doyoung lets out a whine, “So bright in here..” He groans, covering his face. It took a minute to register what was going on and why you were naked and in his arms, but relaxed when he follows up on what went down last night. He could freely express his love physically and verbally. “Oh my god, I love you.” He says ecstatic. You mumble ‘I love you too’ to him before he goes on yapping, “Mother was right.” He whispers, “She was right. You’re my peace. My key to a happy life.” A soft smile dances on your lips after hearing those words, he truly did love you... But because his mother told him so? “Your mother?” You inquire, but he’s quick to reply. “She told me to find peace in you; at first I doubting her sanity because you were quite annoying-” “Hey!” You slap his chest, however he defends himself. “But I can’t live without your chitter chatter now.” He expressed.

Doyoung combs his hair, you cleansing beside him. “You got tanner honey.” You say pinching his skin lightly. “I did?” His doe eyes looking into the mirror at his skin. Then panic arose, “Quick Y/N! Fetch me some blood.” He says while you blankly stare back at him. “You don’t have any blood.” He grabs your wrist. The veins visible. “I.. I don’t want blood.” A sardonic laugh escapes. “I have an idea” He said patting your head lovingly. What could he have in mind? You hum, signaling him to continue as you dry off. “Let’s get married.” If you saw yourself right now you probably would’ve been convinced that your jaw was touching the ground. Nonetheless, life is a risk. Why not? “Okay.” You replied, wrapping your arms around his neck, pulling him in for a kiss. The once feared blood sucking monster, was now back to being an ordinary prince. “I heard my father didn’t let our poor little sister get married..” He whispers into your lips. “Two weddings have been cancelled, let’s help them out.” Grabbing your hand he leads you towards the east end of his castle. You never ventured out there, quite creepy if I do say so myself. Digging into an old box he pulls out an off the shoulder wedding gown with embroidery on her bodice. Rhinestones and pearl beads were sewn on the gown. "It's beautiful," You gasp in awe. "It was my mother's gown. I want you to wear it now." He said handing it over. “Bring it in hand, let’s get ready there. Our big day is tomorrow isn’t it?” He smirks, taking you in hand to walk down to the foyer. “I called someone for us.” “You did?” Just then, you two hear the neigh of a horse (or two) in the distance approaching. A carriage arrived on time to bring you two home. “I can’t believe we’re going home.” You start. “Does this mean we’re gonna stay there because I’d rather not actually.” The confession was vague but Doyoung knew where you were getting at. The privacy was amazing, and hearing the sound of birds in the early morning instead of villagers was a blessing. “Me too.” He replied, helping you on top of the carriage. 

And off you go.

Once you arrived you were surprised people recognized you, and the prince himself. Whispers and rumours already begun and you’ve barely made it through the main city. “There it is, our chapel.” You joke, pointing towards the castle, earning a little laugh from him. He was no longer a vampire, and it frightened you, was getting you to fall in love with him just to go back to normal his only goal? Or was he truly head over heels for you as you were for him. Many of actions reminded you of how he loved you. “Whoa did you see that? They just let us slip by..” He whispers to you after seeing the guards let you pass by happily. “It’s cause we live here,” You replied all giddy over his childish antics when it came to being home, he was thrilled. He quickly rushed towards the the throne room knowing his parents would be there and you rushed behind after setting the suitcases. “Mother! Father! I’ve come home!” He shouts in the still room. Gasps heard from various maids and guards. “I-I’ve found peace...” He pants. “Peace?” His father questioned, his mother correcting him, “He found love.” Doyoung shares a smile before walking up to the throne, “I’ve been gone for quite awhile, haven’t I?” He snickers before embracing his parents. “Brother?” A voice hollered through the room, follow by whispers. He turned to see his loving siblings. “Jaehyun...” Running towards him his smile fades. “I’m sorry,” The apology was wholehearted, from what Jaehyun knew; Doyoung was a loving brother. But all was false, back then he was a selfish beast, not caring once of who he hurt. Now, he was back and came work up from his mistakes. Jaehyun pulls his elder brother into a hug, as he sobbed quietly into his shoulder. 

The door opens to reveal a princess; you. “You all know Y/N.” Doyoung says, grabbing your hand. At first, you don’t realize Jaehyun there, but he makes himself known. “Yes, I was engaged to her not long ago.” Shivers ran down your spine, how could he be so cold and straightforward. Did he actually love you? The straight brooding face quickly curved into a grin, flashing his dimples. “I’m joking. You two actually look like your in love, Y/N and I looked like brothers.” Laughter erupts within the room everyone catching onto the joke one by one before silencing. Doyoung clears his throat “I will be marrying Princess Y/N and merging our kingdoms into one.” It was nice to see his father smile, it was rare. This was good news and it seems like all is working out for the two of you. “Very well, how does next week sound?” He said, watching you two nod eagerly.

死 

It’s been three hours since your vows have been exchanged, and you are now rocking a stone as large as your pupil on your wedding finger, while slowly being undressed by your husband. “Why is this thing so hard to take off,” He complained right as he gets the hang of it. Your lips molding with one another in perfect harmony. It's a slow process you want to enjoy, but most of all you want to pleasure your new husband. A gasp escapes your mouth feeling Doyoung gently lifts his hands up to palm your clothed core, the gentle rubbing before going underneath the thin material to your glistening folds. He hushed your with kiss going down your torso, til he reached right above your core. In a blink of an eye, you see yourself nude and legs sprawled out with Doyoung’s face between your legs. Licking a stripe between your folds, sucking gently on your clit. “So wet...” He murmurs under his breath, before diving in. If you thought your first time with Doyoung was hectic, you’re in for it tonight. Now hands tied behind your back by your own wedding veil you stuff your head into the pillow, screaming his name. “Oh my god! Oh my god! R-Right there! Harder!” You cry, curling your toes ass he thrusts into your core. Your hair bunched up into Doyoung’s fist, keeping you two steady as he penetrates into you. Coming close to your orgasm you arch your back in anticipation; this doesn’t go unnoticed. Doyoung comes forth, hot breath and groans loud and clear in your ear. Reaching down he finds your bud and rubs harshly onto it, feeling you clench around his length. A squeal leaves your mouth, “I’m cumming!” You cried, digging your face in the pillow. Just when you felt yourself relaxing into the pillow, you feel a hot liquid coat your pink walls and Doyoung pulling out

死

The sound of the kids playing rings in the background as you sip on a cup of coffee your husband, Doyoung brewed earlier this morning. He comes to sit beside you on the abandoned bench in the forest, memories flooding off our many escapes to this very bench as kids. His hand reaches to caress your pregnant belly. “Number three.” He said playfully as you slap his hand away, “His name is Taehyun, not Number three.” He chuckles, “A beautiful name from his beautiful mother.” Doyoung says, gently raking his fingers through your long locks of hair. “I love you so much,” He whispers, bringing his hand to your cheek before kissing the top of your nose. “I love you too I guess,” You shrug, covering your grin with the book you held. “Youjin and Minhyun are still in the garden, shall we go in...” His eyes trail the vicinity, before catching your kids who were sitting in a field of flowers. “Min! Jin! Me and your mother are going to head inside for a snack! Stay close!” He shouts over the kids who just send him a thumbs up. Eagerly, Doyoung stood up grabbing your hand pulling you gently towards the castle. “What a child,” You mumble before heading in.

© seostudios, 2020.

[rndavus]

The Collector

TW/CW: mentions of We*pons, bl*od, d***h, vi*lence

     I purchased a painting from the merchant's stall at the back of an abandoned alleyway, it looked wonderful. It really did. The gorgeous face of a middle-aged woman played with my lonely heart with a devilish smile, making my breathing uncontrollable. 

    I was in the habit of collecting paintings, mostly portraits of beautiful young women. One might have called me a connoisseur of the beauties of the visual arts. As I walked with the bag I was keeping the canvas in, it seemed to become heavier with every step. I tried to protect it from all the Victorian dangers that could've damaged the painting. By the time I had reached the doorstep of my house, my arms ached as the weight of the bag began to make me understand how Atlas must've felt holding Earth in his arms. 

    I entered my house, a familiar smell coming to me as I walked past the threshold. Everything I had grown accustomed to and took a chair on which I placed the bagged painting. After I removed the cloth, exposing the naked, revealed canvas for my delighted gaze. Oh, how beautiful she still was, although her smile had gone astray. I could see no more glee on her face. Instead, she looked at me with widened eyes. Her lips slightly parted, exposing her front teeth in the candle light that lit up the room. She slumped to the side a little. 

    "How could it have changed?" 

    The painting also looked worn to me, as if decay had somehow gotten to it in that small amount of time. As I bought it before, the canvas looked new. That is what attracted me to it so much, what urged me to buy this work of magnificent art. The painting appeared as if it had just been created. As I looked at the painting then, it was scratched up, old, and almost ready to be thrown away. There were cuts in canvas everywhere and the paint had scratches, deep enough to have taken parts of the paint away. I analyzed it for hours, my mind was unable to process the strange sight that I observed. 

    I got up and walked away from the painting to get a whiskey. Perhaps that would straighten out the confusion so heavily set on me. I took a few sips from the bottle of whiskey that had stood on the counter since the last couple of days and turned around to take another glance at the portrait. 

    "By God!" 

    I gazed at it as I noticed it seemed like the frame had been broken. When I bought it, there had been no damage to it, nor as I brought it in. It was in pristine condition. To see damage to my new canvas saddened me. It used to be such a beautiful painting, and presently, the painting appeared more decrepit with my every glance . 

    To prevent any further damage, I decided to watch it more closely. I grabbed a chair from the table in the small dinner area, shoved it to the opposite side of the painting, and stared at the painting, refusing to take my eyes from it. For hours, I kept a close watch on it, not allowing this mystery to unfold any more and my painting to become more damaged than it already was. But staring can be more tiresome than one would think. After a long passage of time, in which I denied my eyes the rest they needed; that they demanded, they forced themselves to close. 

    Hours went by with me sleeping in that chair, guarded by the painting across me. As I awoke, my shock was immense. The painting had lost all its color. There stood a gray painting in front of me. No more were the colors vibrant. But the colors were not the worst of it. Those eyes - the eyes that were vibrant when I observed the painting before, were dull. The color had disappeared from them. They looked horrifying. What beauty had once lied in them was a long-gone fantasy. It broke my heart to see the eyes staring back at me with such a vacancy. 

    Why the painting was acting in such a manner, I don't know. Perhaps it was the paint that was of an inferior quality, perhaps it was bad luck, but the radiant image was fading with such speed that I couldn't keep up with it.  I thought about staring at it again , but my mind quickly told me that in the long run, this would be futile, as I would grow tired yet again, and my consciousness would eventually extinguish. I stood up, walked back to the bottle, and then heard it. A short groan, as of someone waking up and gasping for air. It was impossible though, since I was alone in the house. 

    I tell you, I am not insane, nor do I have the tendency to hear things that weren't there. But as I stood by the counter and reached for another bottle of whiskey after having finished the last one, I heard another groan come from behind me, close to the painting, but not from it.

    My heart raced within my chest as I jolted around and freaked out. The bottle of whiskey dropped as I turned, my hand shoving it off the counter and hit the ground. For a moment, I stayed still, expecting to hear the sound again. But alas, my silence was answered by more silence. My eyes darted to each corner of the room, scanning whether I could, before hearing the sound again, see the origin of the sound that was chilling me. Yet again, I was met with failure. 

    With my heart still racing, I bent over to pick up the bottle off the floor. My ears kept listening to my surroundings as I cleaned the floor, expecting to hear that dreadful sound again. The more I listened, the more it seemed like all sound was starting to be sucked from the room. I walked to the window and opened it. I hoped to hear horseshoes prancing and the wheels of carriages rolling on the stone roads, birds chirping, people talking, or even the leaves from the trees being rustled by the summer wind. Instead, I heard the groan again, now coming from right behind me, almost at the place where I stood.

    My head turned to the source of the sound. It was now close enough for me to locate where the sound came from. It came from the floorboards. It was in the room, there was no doubt. I was sure that it came from under the floor now. I know I am not insane, and I know that I heard it from there. You might say that a groan could never come from the floor. Where else would it come from? My eyes glanced over at the painting once more, and the sight I beheld terrified me. The woman in the painting looked at me with those gray eyes. Perhaps even through my soul. Her lips curled into a small grin as she gazed at me.

     A loud gasp escaped me with an impressive echo which overwhelmed the otherwise silent room. I observed the room, fear taking over my mind. My head felt dizzy, and my stomach felt as if it was about to spill all the contents of the day to the ground. My breathing became loud and heavy. What was going on? Why had this simple painting brought this insanity into my home?

    "My God!" My lungs inflated in synchrony with the words, "Why have I deserved this? Why have you brought this misery to me? What sins have I committed to deserve such punishment upon my mortal soul?" 

    I received no response from the God that I had once adored. I still stood in the room, alone, pestered by the loud groan. I turned around and dropped to my knees. I began desperately looking through all the cracks of the floor, searching whether I could see through them and, perhaps, discover the source of the horrible sound. 

    Then I heard another groan. This one came from a different place. It sounded different and was more guttural. It was somewhat louder than the others.I quickly ran to the kitchen and took the first knife that I could find. I held it tightly in my hand as I walked around the room and scanned every inch of it, trying to determine from where the new torturous sound came.

    As time went by, it started to seem as if the room filled with the vile groaning. It filled my ears until I could no longer hear anything else, nor think about anything else. I had to stop it before it would have cost me my entire sanity. Wherever I looked, it appeared to become the one source of the ear-shattering noise. In the insanity that was beginning to conquer my mind, I could suddenly distinctly hear the source of another groan. It was the closet - the damned closet. I marched towards it and opened it, the uncontrollable force of my anger pulling the closet door nearly out of its hinges. 

    There she was: another painting. The painting of a young girl which I had brought only a few days ago. How beautiful she looked! Yet, she had begun boring me all those days ago. That was an issue I had since my early years. I would get something new, and within a short amount of time, I'd become bored with it and needed to get rid of it, as it would become a bothersome thing for my eyes. For that reason, I had placed the painting within the closet so my eyes wouldn't have to look upon it. The gaze of the girl in the painting looked directly into mine. I saw the mouth move, and before a groan could come out, I smashed the knife into the canvas, ripping through it.

    Suddenly, a loud knocking on my door disrupted the salvation I delivered myself. I jerked the knife back and forth while I watched the door. I looked at the knife, and saw that my hands were covered in a scarlet liquid, sticky substance. My mind could only grasp this to be paint.  I looked at it with raised eyebrows and smirked at the prospect of having stopped at least part of that terrible sound. My enjoyment was short-lived as the knocking at my door became louder. almost louder than the groans were. I began walking to the door, marching over the floorboards and through the deafening noise. I pulled the door open, and in my anger I stabbed the knife into whoever stood outside, adding to the noise that was already enraging me.

    My eyes grew wider as I saw a police officer standing before me. The large fellow looked at me in shock. As I looked over at my hand, I realised I had stabbed his colleague in the stomach. He sat on his knees, as life slowly left his body. His pained gaze darted at me as the sounds of his teeth grinding tightly together ground against my mind.

    That brings us to today. I am now sitting in a cell. It is tiny, but I will soon be out of her and be guided to the gallows. They tell me that I murdered many women... That my house was filled with victims... That the stench of the dead women could be smelled everywhere in my house... Their words confuse me. I couldn't even hurt a fly. Yet they keep telling me that I'm a killer?! They said that I had abducted a woman that day, strangled her, and placed her dead body upon a chair in my house. They also said there were corpses of women in the closet and under the floorboards. I now sit in my cell confused, able to only conjure the sight of the many paintings that I had bought. 

    I am sure that no women, dead or alive, were in my house. I can swear to that, as God is my witness. I was alone in that house as the police arrested me. I merely collected paintings. That was all which was present in my house. Now they are calling me "insane", but as I have stated before: I am not insane. Of that fact I am sure. Never have I felt insane, nor have I felt any urge to put harm upon anyone. I merely enjoyed collecting my paintings. The only insanity that may have pierced through my sanity is how I became bored with the paintings after a while, and kept putting them away in various places around my house. 

    But it doesn't matter. I have already been declared insane, and thus, my words aren't believed by anyone. No matter how much I speak, the gallows shall be my final destination. That is a fact of which I am sure. 

[komotionlessqueenmm]

Imagine # 687

1,834 - Words

Gif NOT mine. (Found on Pinterest.)

If this gif is yours please let me know, so I can give you credit.

Gif credit goes to - Unknown.

Year posted - 2020

Warnings - A little swearing.

Notes - None

----

"I'm telling you Charlie you're going to love her." Phil gushed for the millionth time. "So you say." Charlie muttered still doodling in his sketch book, within the prisons art room. "She's a brilliant artist, a local celebrity really." Phil smiled to himself, before his eyes shot to the opening door of the room. "Phil." (Y/n) smiled at the man awaiting her at the bottom of the stairs, her heels clicking noisily as she descended said stairs. "(Y/n) its so lovely to see you." Phil chirped while pulling her into a friendly hug. "I was looking over those drawings you sent me." (Y/n) grinned from ear to ear. "I can't wait to meet the man behind the pen." She added before handing the drawings back to Phil. "Of course of course, he's right here. Charlie mate this is (Y/n)." Phil ushered Charlie over who was sitting quietly observing the two. "We've been waiting here for a little while now, eager for your arrival." Phil added as Charlie approached. "So you're Charlie Bronson? I've heard so much about you, I must say you are a man of reputation." (Y/n) mused while shaking his hand. "Yeah that's me." Charlie sighed under his breath, sounding almost bored. "I've looked over some of your work, and its quite charming really." (Y/n) said as she pointed to the drawings in Phil's hands. "Your style actually reminds me of an uncle of mine, from my father's side. Ironically enough he also spent some time in prison years ago." She continued, her complements fueling Charlie's ego. "Every year I come here in search of an apprentice, sometimes they remain my apprentice for a few years, like my last apprentice did. Sadly however he got on the wrong side of a local here, and got himself killed." (Y/n) wet her lips allowing Charlie a moment to process her words. "Phil here suggested that I take you under my wing, if you're interested of course." She smiled softly. "I don't think the Gov will allow me the privilege." Charlie pointed out, knowing the man hatted him. "Well just between us, he's had quite the crush on me since I started doing this whole apprenticeship thing. I'm confident I can convince him by simply batting my lashes at him." (Y/n) winked with a mischievous twinkle in her eyes. "Is that so?" Charlie smirked a little, finding her rather amusing. "But only if you're interested of course, I'd rather avoid the man if I can. Makes my skin crawl that one." She frowned a little in disgust at the thought of the man. "Alright, what dose this internship entail?" Charlie asked while leaning against the table to his right. "Well first off, I'll be teaching you how to hone your skills as an artist, and help you to find your true potential, to the best of my abilities. I would be visiting you daily, for however long I see fit. Maybe even if you get yourself in trouble, seeings how the old creep can't seem to say no to me." She shrugged a little at the last comment. "Alright I'm in." Charlie nodded his head once, before going back to his original seat. "Okay I'll go see what I can do about the Governor." (Y/n) waved goodbye to Phil before leaving the room. "See I knew you'd like her." Phil smiled while Charlie simply grunted at him.

----

The following day Charlie sat across from the Governor, in his little office. "I don't know how, but you've caught the interest of Miss (Y/n) (Y/l/n), and she wishes to take you as her new apprentice. I have granted her permission to due so, but I'm warning you now Charlie, if you so much as hurt a hair on her head, I'll have you locked in solitary for the rest of your stay here." The older man hissed, his threat only making Charlie smile. "What kind ov a man do you think I am, eh?" Charlie taunted, making the Governor roll his eyes. "I know exactly what kind of a man you are Charlie." The Governor sighed before waving him off. "She'll be here later today, and every day after until you mess up." He added as Charlie was being escorted out of his office.

----

(Y/n) did in fact come back, just a few hours later. Meeting with Charlie in his cell of all places. "Right let's get to it yeah?" She shrugged her bag off of her shoulder and placed it on the foot of his bed, where she rummaged through it a moment later. "Ah here we are." She smiled as she pulled out the new materials she had brought with her. "These are for you." She handed them to Charlie, who slowly looked over everything she gave him. "I'd like to watch you draw if that's alright, I want to observe your process, and techniques." (Y/n) explained, smiling when Charlie sat at his desk. "You can watch, just try not to talk to much. Phil gets real annoying after awhile." Charlie glanced up at her as he began settling everything up. "Of course." She bowed her head a little, respecting his wishes.

As Charlie drew (Y/n) peered over his shoulder, fascinated by his technique, and rather pleased with his natural skills. "How's that?" Charlie leaned back in his chair, looking up at (Y/n), who grinned at him. "It's fantastic, tell me what does this mean to you?" She asked while leaning in a little closer observing the finer details, unknowingly pressing her breasts against Charlie's shoulder. "What?" He exhaled through his nose noisily, almost stunned by the sudden contact. "What does this all mean to you? If anything at all." (Y/n) asked while pulling away so she could properly look at his face. "It's just some of the things I felt while at the asylum." He cleared his throat, having calmed his nerves when she pulled away from him. "Interesting." (Y/n) hummed before going back to her bag. "I want you to try something for me Charlie." She muttered as she unfolded the large piece of canvas paper, she had pulled from her bag. "I want you to try copying this drawing, but in your own style." She explained before using her chewing gum to stick the paper to the wall above his desk. "What is it exactly?" He asked eyeing the strange looking drawing before him. "I'm not entirely sure yet, I drew this yesterday after I left here, I got some inspiration." She tilted her head a little, looking at her work. "Get some inspiration from me did ya?" Charlie teased. "I did actually, while I drew this I replayed our conversation together, remembering the way you held yourself, your facial expressions, mood, all of it really... And this is the product of that." (Y/n) explained, once again fueling Charlie's ego. "Is it a good thing or a bad thing?" He asked while looking from her to the drawing, finding it almost hypnotizing. "Personally I believe it's a good thing, but I guess like most art, it is what you make of it as the viewer." She looked back to Charlie, who seemed pretty pleased with her answer. "Right, well this might take a little while." He stated while scooting his chair in. "Take however long you need." (Y/n) hummed softly while clasping her hands behind her back. "You're welcome to sit on the bed if ya like." Charlie added before picking up his pencil. "Thank you Charlie." (Y/n) smiled before delicately setting on the edge of the mattress, trying to avoid making to much noise.

----

For a little over two months now, (Y/n) has been working with Charlie. And it wasn't until today that he acted out, and got himself into trouble. But as she promised she convinced the Governor to allow her to still visit him. While Charlie sat in his cell, blood oozing a little from the gash on his head, he counted the seconds it took for (Y/n) to reach his cell. Her heels giving her away the second she stepped into his cellblock, clicking away as she approached. "I don't know why you bother." The guard opening Charlie's cell hissed at (Y/n), who in turn held her head up a little higher while glaring at the overweight man. "That's none of your concern." She spat back as the door opened, making Charlie smile the best he could with the muzzle they put on him.

"Christ." She muttered under her breath in surprise, completely stunned at the sight of him all bloody and bound. "Aye love." Charlie murmured the best he could, both blood and drool running down his chin. "What did they do to you?" She frowned before softly sitting on her knees across from him on the floor. "You'll dirty your dress." He almost frowned at the sight of his blood on the floor, as it began seeping into the soft fabric of her skirt. "I don't give a damn about the dress." She waved his comment off, more worried about him. "Besides you're more important to me than some old dress." She leaned forward dropping her voice so only Charlie could hear her. "I'm going to remove these wretched things, but you must remain quiet, otherwise we'll both be in trouble." She waited for Charlie to nod his head in agreement before reaching for the strap on the muzzle. "There." She sighed softly as she pulled the muzzle away from his face. "Alright could you turn for me?" She asked planning on removing the straight jacket. "Nah leave it I'm alright, besides if someone decides to barge in 'ere, you won't get in as much trouble for removing just the muzzle." Charlie pointed out making (Y/n) bite her lip softly. "Good point." She nodded her head agreeing with him.

"So tell me Charlie, what happened?" (Y/n) asked as she removed a handkerchief from her handbag, slowly wiping away some of the blood from his face. "One of the guards took away that drawing you hung on my wall, the one you gave me the first day we worked together, cunt tore it up while talking ill about you. I wasn't gonna stand for it, so I beat the fucker bloody." Charlie observed her face, watching her closely as she frowned at his words. "Those bastards can't just let things be can they, always gotta rattle the cage, and punish those that bite back." She murmured while cleaning the last of the blood away the best she could. "Don't worry. You ever get outta here, I'll give you as many drawings as you'd like, then no one can ever take them from you again." (Y/n) smiled softly at Charlie, who began mulling over her words. Did he want to get out? Or did he still wish to stay?

[heres-to-the-lovely-lies]

Always and Forever

Prologue: In the Beginning

The Originals x Reader

This was something that I thought of a while ago and I thought, “I need to write this down.” I want to try and make this into a series, so hopefully writer’s block doesn’t kick in and I never finish this story.

Also, this story does mention deaths of family.

Warnings: mentions of family deaths, spoilers (potentially, if you are still watching the TV series)

I hope you all enjoy! :)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

See, I never thought I’d live past twenty.

Where I come from, some get half as many.

Nowadays, people are living to be a hundred years old.

If I’m being honest, I wish that is where I could have stopped.

One hundred good years and I would have been fine.

Living for eternity, that’s a different story.

It all started many years ago, a little over a thousand I believe?

The specifics of time don’t quite matter, at least not to me.

When you’ve got more than a thousand years behind you and millions more ahead, time doesn’t always come into mind.

Anyhow, I digress.

I guess I should tell you when it started.

A thousand years ago, I was but a weary traveler moving around from forest to forest. That was just the way that my family and I had lived life. We did not feel bound to one spot like another tribes or villages did. They kept the mentality of hunting and gathering in their minds and lifestyles. We were always moving. Always searching,

Although I loved my family, I came to hate this way of living, especially after what killed them. Looking back, I wish I had convinced all of them to find a place to settle down like the other families that we would pass by.

We had just traveled all day and night in order to follow a herd of buffalo when we came across a small village. You know it now as Mystic Falls. I call it Hell.

The people there had been kind to us. They let us stay for a night in order to get our strength back up for the next day’s travel. It was there where we met them.

Some call them legends. Others monsters.

Vampires.

Werewolves.

Witches.

But when I first met the children of the Mikaelson family, I knew them as human.

There was Mikael, the patriarch of the family and his wife, Esther. She was like me, a witch. She had always been a little more interested in me than other witches we had meet. I wasn’t like most witches, who drew their power from nature or ancestors. My magic always just seemed to flow through me, continuously running from a never-ending tap. Back then, I thought it was weird that I never learned any magic from her, but looking back now, I think I’m happy that I didn’t.

Then there were the children.

The oldest was Finn, who I often quarreled with whenever left in the same vicinity as him. Everyone said it was because Esther would keep an eye on me, which gave him the wrong impression, but I choose to believe it was because I was naturally better at performing magic than he was.

Next came Elijah, the first to greet my family we arrived. His charming looks and calm demeanor had my mother and sister swooning over him. Even my father was impressed with him.

Klaus was also a charmer when he met my family. His smile just seemed to pull everyone in except for me. Every smile sent my way was met with an eye roll. He tried his best to pull me into his mischievous, dare say, dark ways, but I chose to stay out of it. Why get pulled into something that would only last a day?

Kol was just as bad as Klaus. My sister was practically sewed into his arm from the way that she held onto him. Every words, every smile, every look, she was held tight by him, even though he looked like he wasn’t trying to catch her attention.

Rebekah had always been my favorite. Even though she had been the only female Mikaelson child that I had met that day, it felt like she understood me. While Klaus and Kol were persistent in their attempts to pull me into their troublemaking ways, Rebekah seemed to always be by my side to fend them off.

Then there was little Henrik. Sweet, innocent Henrik. When I had first met the youngest Mikaelson, he had surprised me with a flower he had found in the tree line right outside the village. His words had taken me aback with how direct they were. Thinking about it now makes me smile and laugh a little.

“One day, I’m going to marry you.”

Just as quickly as we had met the Mikaelson’s, my family and I were gone. Not even a day later, we were back on our feet and on our way to follow our herd of food.

It was when night fell did my family realize our mistake.

It wasn’t even supposed to happen. We were supposed to be safe. I had created a protection barrier around all of us, created by tracing a circle around our sleeping area and enchanted it. A barrier that only the hand of powerful magic could break.

It had happened so quickly. None of us had seen it coming. Where we had traveled from, we had only heard myths about the shapeshifters. The ones that only changed during a full moon. We never thought we would ever see one in real life.

The werewolf struck right when the moon was at it’s peak and leaves from the trees above us had opened to let in the pale moonlight. First, it took my father, who had been standing watch for us. He didn’t even have time to warn us before he was dragged into the night.

It was when my mother screamed in agony and pain did I wake up. By then, it was already too late. I had opened my eyes to see my mother get thrown to the side, my family already laying dead around me.

I was the last one left.

When the werewolf attacked me, I... did nothing. 

I did not fight back. I did not run away. I had sat there as the monster came racing towards me. I could feel the tears of pain running down my face, but could not seem to scream as the monster started to tear me apart. I cried even when I started to lose feeling in my body. As I laid on my back, eyes open and gazing at the stars, I wait for the sweet release of death to come and take me. I could not live in this world without my family. I would not. They were all I had.

But death never came. Even after the werewolf had finished attacking us and wandered back into the dark curtains of the forest, death never came. And it still didn't come as the dark canvas of the sky started to ombré into a beautiful shade of red, then orange, and finally a light blue.

Even when I tried to will it, I could not die. It was like life and death had decided to play a sick joke on me. Death would not allow me to cross over but life would let me continue on with a permanent reminder of one of the most devastating moments of my life.

When I finally closed my eyes, I could hear faint footsteps coming closer. Then I could hear Elijah’s voice call out for his brothers as those footsteps became louder and faster. I could hear Klaus call my name as I was lifted into the air, strong arms carrying me back in the direction of their village. I assume it was Klaus holding me, but I guess I’ll never be certain as I had kept my eyes closed the entire time.

I could hear Rebekah’s pained cries and Henrik’s confused speech as the Mikaelson brothers and myself reached the village. But still, I did not open my eyes.

I believe I was finally able to sleep when I heard Esther’s voice beckoning her sons to bring my family into a small hut, but it still did not mean death.

I awoke a week later, my skin riddled with scars, some wounds opening again when I finally moved. I was the only survivor.

Having no where else to go, I stayed with the Mikaelsons, growing closer with Elijah, Klaus, Kol, Rebekah, and Henrik. They became more than just friends to me. They were now my family. 

But where there is happiness, tragedy lurks behind it, hiding in its shadow.

It wasn’t even a month later that the Mikaelsons lost Henrik to another werewolf attack. 

The family was never the same after that.

I assume you know the rest of the story from here, but if not, I guess I can summarize it a little.

Mikael asked Esther to perform dark magic to ensure that none of his children died ever again, thus creating the first vampires, The Originals.

They became creatures that could never be killed, the strongest of them all. The ones that would live for eternity.

After a thousands years on this Earth, I blame myself for not stopping Esther. The Mikaelson children were forced to become something so monstrous, so destructive, in order to protect themselves. Over the years, I watched this curse break their souls, pull bits of humanity from them as their hunger for blood and protectiveness for each other danced in circles around them.

The night that the Mikaelsons became immortal was the same night I became immortal as well, except, this was for a different reason.

You could say it was like a page out of a horror movie. The young girl longing to have magic to make her life better or more interesting is visited by the Devil and trades her soul to have everything she could every want.

That night, after the Mikaelsons were turned, I was approached by a man. He emerged from the darkness of the forest, his demeanor calm and collected, his hands behind his back as he came closer.

“I have a proposition for you, young witch. Take a walk with me.”

This man led me away from the village and further into the forest. We walked for what felt like eternity when he finally stopped. The only light in the forest was provided by the moon.

“This is the very spot you and your family were attacked, young witch. Now, it seems as though your new family is facing a similar predicament. Do you want to try and save them?”

Of course I agreed. I had come to fallen in love with the Mikaelson siblings.. They were the only things I had left.

“I only need one thing.”

“My soul?”

“Your life.”

I was, confused. My life?

“I can see that you are perplexed. Let me explain.You see, Esther is performing a spell that can make her children become immortal. They can never die. What purpose does you growing old serve when you want to be able to be there to help them. I guess, in a way, I am asking for your soul, but what I really want is that life force that makes you tick. That makes you grow old. That pushes the blood through your veins and causes your heart to beat.”

All it took was hearing ‘help the Mikaelsons’ for me to agree. I should have put some more thought into it.

I will always remember his smile when he made me immortal that night, right after he took my soul, my life force as he called it, away from me. And I would always remember his name.

Cade.

From there on, I tried to be there for the Mikaelson children whenever I could. That was until we were forced out of the village by Mikael. I had gotten separated from the others when I stayed behind to protect them, using my magic to ward Mikael off.

I wasn’t as strong back then, so Mikael was able to defeat me easily, pushing the white oak stake he had created through my heart before pursuing Klaus and his siblings with it.

I thought death would come for me then too, but it did not. After I could not hear Mikael’s footsteps, I stood up, my clothes stained with blood. That was then when I realized just what deal I had made.

For many years, I would search for the Mikaelsons, but it was as though I was one step behind Mikael and two behind the siblings. Everywhere I went, they were either gone after I arrived or would settle down after I left. To the rest of the world, the Mikaelsons were but a whisper, a figment of imagination. They were myths. But they were all too real to me.

I found myself traveling alone for two hundred years. For two hundred years, I did not give up on them. I called out to each and every Mikaelson sibling using my mind, hoping, waiting for a response. I would cry out into the world, telling them where I was, wanting them to come and find me. I was always met with silence. A silence so deafening at times I would scream to the dark midnight sky in order to not feel crushed.

And still, there was no answer from any of them. For two hundred years, the only answer I received that they were still alive was the trail of bodies left behind at each and every settlement they had managed to land in. 

Then one day, I could not take it anymore. I did the one thing I said I wouldn’t.

I turned my back on the Mikaelsons and I started to walk the opposite way from them. The deal I had made with Cade became a curse. I was left alone with the demons in my head and the nightmares behind my eyelids. 

I had failed Elijah. 

Klaus. 

Kol. 

Rebekah.

‘Always and Forever.’

That is what we all promised each other when Mikael drove us out of Mystic Falls. What a broken promise it is now.

I would not find the Mikaelsons until many, many years later. Not until I, myself, became something so unrecognizable, so much so that my own reflection doesn’t even know who I am.

I am on my way back to Hell.

That is where my story begins.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

New Orleans. Some things never change. (Y/n) hadn’t been back in New Orleans for more than eighty years, having gotten there in the 1920′s after the Mikaelson siblings were forced to leave. It was specular to see again, looking at everything Marcel had done. 

It was night by the time (Y/n) came strolling into New Orleans. After many years of traveling across the globe, she was ready to lay down again for about a hundred years before setting off again. She needed a break from all the plane rides and carpool adventures. It was good to be back in a place that she knew.

However, as much as she wanted to stay in the town she once called her favorite home, (Y/n) was merely passing though. She would only be in New Orleans for a night before heading on her way to Mystic Falls.

While she never wanted to return to that place again, she had heard a whisper, one so faint even she was convinced it wasn't real. It called out to her, begging her to come back to Mystic Falls. This plea, she could not ignore.

Her house keys in her pocket, (Y/n) walked down the middle of the street. She could hear music and partying faintly in the distance. She didn’t have a care in the world as she walked through the streets. She took her time as she placed one foot in front of the other. The night was peaceful and all she wanted to do was savor it before going to bed and leaving in the morning.

“Well look here, boys. This one doesn't look like a local.”

And the peace was lost.

Turning around, (Y/n) saw three vampires lined up behind her. One of them had their fangs bared already, the dark viens in their face popping out.

“Mhm, you must be new to all this vampire stuff,” the witch spoke.

The three men were taken aback by what she had said. Shrugging her shoulders, (Y/n) turned back around and started to make her way back down the street.

“Go home, boys. I’m sure there is easier prey for you to catch at some party Marcel is holding.”

Now the vampires were even more confused, but they were not about to let some new tourist tell them what to do. Within seconds, all three raced in front of the witch and bared their fangs. They hissed at her as she continued to walk towards them, an amused look on her face.

The next thing they knew, a head splitting pain took over all of them. It was as if their heads were getting ripped off of their shoulders. Their blood boiled and their skin felt like it would melt right off their bodies. As they withered on the street, clutching their heads, (Y/n) continued to stroll past them, not even breaking a sweat as she induced pain and suffering on Marcel’s nightwalkers.

“Goodnight, boys. Don’t let any werewolves bite.”

Continuing down the street, (Y/n) held her head high as witches hiding in the dark spotted the scene that had been caused, their eyes growing wide in fear of what Marcel would do when he found out this witch had performed magic. Did this witch have a death wish?

It didn’t matter to (Y/n). She would not be staying for long.

(Y/n) (L/n) was back on her way to Hell.

[rachywritessomething]

Part 1

Sava didn’t like the desert.

She knew she wasn’t made for it. It was too bright and even as the world slowly turned itself to something cooler and not quite so unforgiving, the desert was still too harsh for even a creature like herself. Yet she had no desire for anything, so she followed Leo as he went digging in the sand with the rest of the caravan, their numbers searching for something of the world before.

It wasn’t all bad. Sava had only to sit on the ruins of some wall and keep her bloody eyes out for anything that could hurt Leo. There were lots of things that could hurt the little man: the crawlers in the sand, the stones of the walls at risk of falling, even thieves and other treasure hunters. The last of which rarely dared pass a second glance at the man when they realized who was casting a shadow over him.

Or rather, what.

Sava knew people didn’t like her. It had been something she had grown to accept as the years drug on. In this century at least she could keep enough memory to be mindful of the things they hated most about her. They didn’t like her bloody eyes, they didn’t like her cold skin -though that was becoming ever warmer by the decade- and they didn’t like her imposing size. One of Leo’s forefathers had once explained that she was made to be large, towering, and terrible, it was what gave her purpose.

At least she could remember things now. Many memories of her first years were only of her maker calling her by name and laughing.

Leo didn’t look like her maker. He was a spindly man who was far too gentle for making abominations. But just as his ancestor, he kept her around for protection and used her when ugly things had to be done. Sava wasn’t sure if she hated the man. There was a word an elf once used toward her… contempt, yes. Perhaps she felt contempt for Leo.

It didn’t matter though. She did not want to leave any more than she wanted to stay, so she remained where she was, obedient and becoming ever more intelligent with every new generation of charges.

“Sava, come down.”

The spindly man waved at her from the bottom of the trench. The diggers around him barreled the sand away from the hole they were forming so they could search for… what was it they were looking for? She wasn’t sure they had ever told her what it was and the more she considered it, the more sense it made to her that they wouldn’t have. The thought that she had not forgotten something but rather made an assumption almost made her smile. I’m learning...

Sava pushed herself off the high wall and fell thirty feet to the bottom of the trench, landing in a crouch that split the knees of her canvas pants. The barrel pushers parted for her as she walked over to Leo.

“I need you to go into the cavern,” he said, looking up at her through squinted eyes. His were the sort of dark that would do well in the garish light, probably the kind eyes that had come with her original form before they were damaged and bloodied. The thought of having beautiful, dark eyes like that had been a fleeting fantasy of hers, fleeting only because she realized that she did have those eyes, she would not be able to see them as often.

Sava looked beyond the man though, along the trench and to the place where the barrel pushers appeared to be ascending from. Then she looked back to him.

“What for?” There were many long years of dumb silence behind her that made the rattle of her own voice in her chest feel pleasent. It was hard to form many words at once, but she supposed in another century, she would be able to speak in long, poetic phrases and prattle until her voice faded.

“It smells like shit down there and no one else will do it,” Leo said impatiently. “You don’t have much of a nose for that kind of thing anyway.”

Sava flared her nostrils. “Like shit?”

“Not actual shit. It’s something else but it’s bad.” Leo grabbed her arm and pulled her in the direction of the chasm, parting even more of the barrel pushers. Sava watched them, feeling something close to satisfaction at watching them hurry past her out of fear.

The pit was more orderly than Sava had anticipated. There was a ramp spiraling down into the shadowy place, completely taken up by the workers and they would not have enough space to avoid her.

“Smells fine to me,” Sava said.

“Not this.” Leo gestured into the chasm impatiently. “The tunnel at the bottom. Go down and make sure nothing’s dying in there.”

Sava studied him, looking for a fear that would alert her to how cautious she should be. Not that Leo was the best human to gauge; his instinct was not as heightened as some of his ancestors. “Dying things can smell like shit.”

“Will you hurry up?”

Sava shrugged and checked her belt for the dagger before ruffling her human’s hair. “I will find the dying thing,” she promised before leaping into the pit.

This distance was jarring but Sava rolled on impact, settling on her hands and knees and peering into the tunnel, leading down into the bowels of the earth. Several excavators stood at the entry, and all of them stared at her with mixed expressions of fear, hatred, and disgust.

Sava stood and strode past them, ducking as she stepped into the tunnel. The small gathering took a step back, widening away from her as if she was the one who emitted the foul stench. Something was rotting though, and it was something she was only dimly familiar with.

One thing Sava realized about humans was their utter reliance on their eyesight. She herself was guilty of it often though she had plenty of other perfectly capable senses. She did not need a light in the dark because she could hear the length of the hallway by the way her breath echoed, she could feel the tremors of the solid stone under the soles of her boots, she could taste the age of a place untouched by the outside until today.

And she could smell a dying thing.

There was a difference between the dead and dying, though she had trouble distinguishing exactly what it was.

The tunnel angled downward, becoming ever more musky and untouched. Dust moved under her feet.

The stench reached that undeniable closeness when the corridor opened into a room. Sava stepped down three steps and into a circular chamber. Her eyes, growing used to the dark, made out the faint outlines of drawings on the walls. They, like the stench, were oddly familiar, and she brushed her hand over the wall until she found what she was looking for. Her fingers fell over a switch and flipped it up almost out of instinct.

Nothing happened.

Sava shrugged and stepped into the room, her eyes making out the details of a desk or a box in the middle, as if it was on display. It rose as high as her hips and was easily seven feet long, its width half that. When she ran her fingers over it, she found it was cold metal beneath a thick, sticky layer of dust.

She crouched down, wrinkling her nose at the stench, and felt the side of the structure until she found a small lip. It was almost perfect, but age and use had made it a little more evident. A little more searching and she found the partial curve of hinges.

Sava had found that with her retention of memory and the ability to accumulate knowledge was the occasional bout of curiosity. It was a very human sensation and it was one that led men to peril more often than reward, but still it was a powerful magic and as such, she gave into it when it came about. It was not just an investigative obligation, but a desire to throw herself into the perilous unknown.

It took no deliberation for her to round the box and fling it open.

The stench that had been pungent before hit her, choking her and making her reel back, gagging. Her eyes watered to the point of blindness and she hunched over, her body threatening to retch up the flavorless rations Leo had given her.

When she had enough bearing to stand up straight, she approached the box and peered into it, holding her breath. What she had expected before was a dying thing, what she knew awaited her was the decay after death. What she saw was neither.

The thing inside the box was decaying, her nose assured her of that much, but the lines of its form quivered like a child in the snow.

Sava leaned in, still saving her breath. The creature was… breathing.

Her hand wandered to the hilt of her dagger. “Do you live?”

From the box, bright, red eyes appeared, as deep as the color of blood. Before Sava could draw back, something grabbed her by the throat and pulled her down with considerable strength. It took the sheer will of her arms on the side of the box to hold herself away from the decaying thing, her dagger forgotten.

“Do you live?” It’s ragged voice came as nothing more than stirred. Sava wrenched herself away, clattering to the floor and breathing the horrid stench hard as her mind struggled for blood. She ripped the dagger from her sheath.

And the creature rose from the box, its eyes still glowing, narrowed, fixed on her. “Do you live?” it rasped again.

Sava pushed herself to her feet and stepped back, putting a safer distance between herself and this rotting thing. “I live,” she growled, raising her dagger threateningly. “More than you.”

It let out a shriek that reverberated off the walls and those red eyes flew closer. Sava managed to catch the slimy wrist before a hand could wrap around her throat again and swung the creature into the wall.

It crumpled and growled, glowing eyes still fixed on her. She raised her dagger again. “Do not make me kill you, dead thing.”

It lunged again, tackling her. Her dagger found its way into the thing’s stomach and something oozed over her hand, like sludge. Before it could bite at her throat, she caught its neck and squeezed, making it hack over her.

“Do not make me kill you!”

“Die, brother!” Its strangled words caught her off guard for just a moment, but before the decaying thing could do anything, Sava wrenched her hand up, disemboweling the creature on top of her.

Its red eyes stared at her for a moment, still wide with fury but without any indication of registering pain. Then they dimmed and the creature collapsed on her, still twitching and breathing.

“Release yourself, brother.” Sava threw the body off her and wrenched the dagger away only to drive it into one of those dimmed eyes. In the dark, it seemed to smile at her. So she pulled out her dagger again and turned it to the serrated side, laying it over the throat of the creature. “Do not call me brother,” she spat in sudden anger.

“We are brothers,” the creature whispered. “They just got you right.”

Sava found a fistfull of hair and drew the knife across the creature’s jugular, spraying blood. For a moment, it seemed it was laughing but it stopped as she used her blade to sever its neck.

Sava hefted the decapitated head up, staring into its gaping maw. “I am no brother to you,” she sneered as she stood. It was so very human to insist upon the last word but these days she felt like she was almost as human as any one of them pulled from a woman’s womb. Certainly more than this decaying thing.

She wiped her dagger on her canvas pants and resheathed it before walking out of the cave, surprised that she felt somewhat shaken by the encounter. Fear was a fun emotion to have sometimes, especially when it was unfounded.

In the welcome light of the sun, the diggers parted from her, some even running to evade her path. Now, more than before, they were horrified by her and some even screamed and retched at the sight of her.

Sava did not care. She walked around the long path out of the pit, pushing past anyone who could not smell her in time to dart ahead.

When she emerged into the main trench under the wall, she met Leo’s eyes, wide with shock and fear. It was strange; she had never known Leo to fear her though she supposed wearing the rotting insides of a monster made her more unpleasant than usual.

Sava tossed the head to Leo’s feet, watching with some interest as it rolled. It did look human in the light, but pale and it’s open eyes were as redder than the blood that oozed from its stump of a neck which was closer to black sludge than anything else.

“I found your dying thing,” Sava said, pointing to the head.

Leo’s face turned red and his teeth were clenched in anger. “Why did you bring it here?”

“I left the rest of the body in the chamber,” she assured him. “But it shouldn’t harm you.” Sava stepped as if the pat the spindly man’s shoulder, but he wriggled away before she could step into reach with all the elegance of a decapitated snake. She shrugged and walked along the trench.

[loki-hargreeves]

Once upon a dream - Loki x Reader Ch. 2

[Ch.1] 

Warnings: angst, mentions of amnesia, vulgar language Word Count: 7,1K Chapter Summary: Loki has been captured. Now it’s Y/N and the Avengers’ time to figure out his schemes. Y/N learns more about Loki in her dreams and she begins to suspect they’re more than just dreams... Author’s Note: So sorry it took me this long! Please enjoy this chapter! :) Listen to: Once Upon A Dream Playlist

THIRD POV

[CH. 2: Last night I dreamt]

~  Last night I felt real arms around me

          No hope, no harm, just another false alarm  ~

“Is there something you’d like to tell us, miss Y/N?” Fury stormed into the room in which Y/N had been taken into questioning for the moment they returned on the helicarrier. How ironic, she found herself in yet another interrogation room, treated like a villain despite the promise of being a hero for capturing Loki. She hadn’t done anything wrong! Fury didn’t sit down. Instead, he stood by the end of the table with his palms rested on it as he leaned towards Y/N. It was an intimidating position. She was beyond exhausted and it only fueled her rage when they trusted her so little.

“No,” She made it short and clear.

Fury clenched his jaw and it was obvious that he didn’t trust her. “Mind telling us why Loki knew your name?”

“He must’ve used his magic,” Y/N came up with a simple answer. Loki seemed to know the others too, which he now said was because of Barton, the agent he kidnapped.

“So, he used magic to know about your amnesia too, huh?” Fury just had to pour salt into the open wound. It’s like no one cared about how she felt. They spoke of her past like it was nothing and she hated how much it upset her.

At this point, she didn’t know what she could say to defend herself. “You’re making assumptions, Fury. I don’t know anything, I swear.”

That seemed to be a blow for the tall man. He sighed and then stood up straight, walking around the small room deep in thought. He stopped by the mirror, which Y/N knew was a two-way mirror. He faced her with his back, and she ended up staring at the material of his black coat. “Whatever this is, we will find out about it,” He promised after a moment of silence. “And for now, Loki only wants to speak with you. You’ll be stationed by his cage where we can keep an eye on both of you.”

Was he serious? Y/N felt her heart drop as she heard her sentence. Loki would only taunt her further and possibly drive her mad. If she had known what her agreement would lead her into, she would’ve never accepted the job offer. Somehow, it felt like they hated her even more now than before.

Knowing that there was no use in fighting Fury, she silently agreed with him. The door opened and two guards marched in, ready to lead Y/N to the wolf’s den. She walked with them, tiredly dragging her feet across the floor. As they walked through the helicarrier, she felt eyes burning into her soul. They walked past a lab and Bruce looked at her through the Plexiglass. He looked at her with sympathy in his eyes. Great. His pity was the last thing she needed. 

Finally, they reached the place where Loki was held. It was a large space and in the middle of it was the cage, originally built for someone else. Loki was sat on the bench in it and he looked at Y/N as they arrived. He seemed to have expected her arrival.

“We will bring you your necessities soon. Don’t leave without consulting someone first,” One of the agents told her before leaving her alone.

Machines were buzzing and beeping all around them. Footsteps could be heard from the corridors. It was cool in the room which made clutch onto her arms. At least, she wasn’t put in the cage with Loki. She was grateful she could stay on the outside.

Their eyes never left one another as she walked closer to him. She didn’t stop until she was as close as she could get to him. Despite her exhaustion, she was curious. Loki wasn’t someone she wanted to mess with, but it was clear they had a connection. “They told me you wanted to speak with me.”

“Oh, yes. A little company wouldn’t do much harm here. It’s quite an…untasteful place, I must admit,” Loki mentioned as he looked around. He didn’t have anything in his cell. It reminded Y/N much of her room at the S.H.I.E.L.D. facility; cold and empty. 

Y/N knew that wasn’t the real reason why he requested to speak with her. She sat down on the floor, tired from the long day and she leaned against the cage. It was far too tempting to just close her eyes and fall asleep. Even a short nap would’ve done good for her. Instead, she fixated her eyes on Loki and she remembered the strange thing that happened when they touched. They were in her dream again. It made it even stranger when Loki seemed to recognize the place. No matter how much she tried to think about a solution to the mystery, she didn’t know what connected them. It was infuriating.

“You’re deep in thought,” Loki pointed out the obvious.

If it wasn’t for the heavy surveillance in the area, she would’ve gladly mentioned their connection. But now she was terrified of getting caught - having Fury’s eye on her back and all. Although she didn’t believe she had any part in this godly mess, she was afraid Fury and the others would think so. They would accuse her of being a beast and surely, she would return to the facility for the rest of her seemingly endless life.

Loki knelt down so he was on her level. There was only the thick glass between them now, yet his presence didn’t make her uncomfortable. “What’s on your mind, Y/N? You look anxious. Is it your…friends?” Loki smirked as he said that, continuing his use of long pauses between words, enjoying the dramatics. He seemed to know that no one trusted her. 

Did it amuse him?

“You’re a pain in the ass, Loki. I’m stuck with you until we find the tesseract,” Y/N tried to focus on her mission. It was pointless now, but she figured she could try to get something useful out of him.

Loki shrugged, “I’ve sent it off, Y/N. You’ll never find it with my assistance. I think you’re stuck with me.”

“Too bad,” Y/N rolled her eyes. Her eyelids were getting heavier by the second and she felt a yawn creeping up on her. Without giving her actions much thought she rested her head against the glass, and she crossed her arms on her lap. Maybe, just maybe she could close her eyes for just five minutes? No one could be mad at her for that, right? That’s when her yawn ripped through her mouth and Loki definitely noticed.

He sat down on the floor and tilted his head curiously. “Tired?”

“If you don’t have anything useful to say, I’d rather not speak with you,” Y/N told him a little harshly. She couldn’t help herself in the moment.

“You’re definitely cranky. Perhaps you should sleep it off?” Loki suggested. Did he want her to sleep? Y/N looked at him and she noticed something strange about the god. He didn’t seem to be mocking her, despite how mocking his tone was. He had a rather soft linger in his eyes when he looked at her. Somehow, she just knew they had met before. Did he know about her dreams?

That’s when alarms rang in Y/N’s head. Loki must’ve known about her dreams. He must’ve had them too! Did he suggest her to sleep because he knew that he could speak with her in her dream? It was a shot in the dark, but Y/N hoped that it was true. That way, if it worked, no one could hear them.

A smirk curled on her face, “I just might.” If they indeed had a dream connection, it would be both interesting and a little terrifying. To have a god in her head wasn’t anything she had ever expected.

“Sweet dreams,” Loki wished her, and he got up, leaving her on the floor. He paced across the round cell to his bench and sat down, keeping his eyes on the woman who nearly passed out in exhaustion a few feet away from him. He didn’t take his eyes off her even when her eyes fell shut and her breaths got heavier and longer. She was finally asleep, just like he wanted her to be. That’s when Loki closed his own eyes, relaxing as well as he possibly could in his situation. He didn’t show it, but he was overwhelmed. He had not expected to run into Y/N on this mission of his. It had changed everything.

 Birds were chirping peacefully, flying across the sunny sky. The river was running wildly, untamed by nature. Y/N felt damp grass beneath her bare feet. She was in the middle of an open field, surrounded by flowers that smelled sweet as summer. The scent of the colourful petals relaxed her even more. For a moment, she didn’t know where she was or even what she was doing, but it didn’t matter. All that mattered was the beautiful day on the summery fields.

“Hello, Y/N,” A rather familiar voice caught her attention. Y/N turned around and noticed she was wearing a white dress. In front of her stood a man she had seen several times before. She looked at his tall figure, his silky raven black hair, his pale skin and the details of his gear. He wore a black uniform that was topped off with golden details and a long, emerald green cape. He looked like royalty.

Something told her that she knew him, but she couldn’t quite put her tongue on his name. The more she tried to think about it, the less relaxed she felt. Suddenly it all came crashing back to her.

That was Loki!

It was astonishing to stand there and realize she was dreaming. The realization helped her see just how bizarre the dreamworld was. Her eyes scanned the rose painted sky and she smiled as she saw how unnatural it looked. The clouds looked like white paint brushed on a pink canvas. How bizarre it was to be lucid, especially when Loki was there. How was it possibly that he got into her dream? Was it because of his godlike gifts? It must’ve been.

“How is this possible?” Y/N asked him, feeling oddly calm. Something deep down told her that she could trust him. Besides, how could he possibly hurt her in her dream?

Loki walked closer to her, gently brushing his fingers on the roses that surrounded them. “Your mind is quite strong, Y/N. This place is peculiar and quite vivid,” He avoided her question.

“You wanted me to sleep, you wanted us to be here. Why?” She tried again, hoping to finally get some answers out of him.

That’s when Loki faced her, and his smirk and mocking gaze were long gone. As their eyes met, a sense of familiarity enveloped her. Her mind told her that she had looked into those eyes a thousand times before. If only she could remember.

“I wish you could remember,” Loki admitted with a much quieter voice.

“Why can’t you just tell me?”

“It’s not that simple, Y/N,” Loki explained tiredly. It was so strange that he seemed to know the answers she craved. He, the man she was supposed to call her enemy.

Y/N felt brave in her dream, so she stepped closer to him. Loki didn’t seem to mind her presence so near him. He didn’t seem to mind it when Y/N put her trembling hand on his wrist, wanting to see if something would happen again. This time, nothing magical happened. Her fingertips rested on the cool skin of his wrist and that was all. “How do we know each other? Why have you been in my dreams for so long?”

Loki looked at her achingly. “Everything used to be much simpler before, but the world has changed. I wish I could go back, Y/N, but something has come up. Therefore, I think it’s important I don’t bring you into this.”

“Into what exactly?” Y/N inquired, desperately.

Another sigh left Loki’s rosy lips, “If I tell you, I must know you’re on my side. You can’t possibly work with these people who only use you for your power. I can’t speak if you’ll turn against me ag-” he stopped himself before he could finish that word. It pained him to be quiet.

Her stomach dropped. She felt sick. Did he imply that for her to find out, she would have to betray the people she promised to help? Truthfully, Y/N didn’t care about them, but they had the power to throw her back into a cell to rot into. If she betrayed them, she would never get another chance to prove herself worthy of freedom.

But if she joined Loki, maybe, just maybe she could get the freedom she wanted? To be freed from the questions that had haunted her for decades, to live in a world with answers and the opportunities to do whatever she pleased. Could Loki truly offer her that or was he manipulating her so she would ease his escape?

“I wish I could trust you,” Y/N admitted to him after a while.

To her surprise, Loki put his large hand on her cheek, caressing her skin ever so gently. Her eyes widened by the gesture, but she didn’t mind it. In fact, it felt nice. Was this another trick? Did he have the power to allure her into his grasp or did she genuinely enjoy his gentle touch? It felt like her heart yearned for it, for more.

“Trust yourself,” Loki told her. Whatever he meant by that; she would figure it out eventually. Right now, she only wanted to melt against his touch. Although she couldn’t remember him, she was now certain that they shared a moment in the past. Otherwise, Loki wouldn’t be this sweet. She wouldn’t react to his touch like it was an instinct. It was all so natural.

She hadn’t felt this way in years. It made her eyes sting painfully as tears formed in the corners of her eyes. Y/N was happy and sad at once, desperate, and hopeful. There was conflict raging within her.

Their moment couldn’t last forever. Y/N’s eyes snapped open and she found herself back in the helicarrier, on the cold metal floor by Loki’s cage. A familiar face caught her attention. It was Thomas! Seeing the guard there nearly made her forget about her more than bizarre lucid dream. He stood by her with a blanket in his hands and a smile on his face. “I thought you’d want this,” He said kindly, “You looked cold.”

“How…why are you here?” Y/N asked him curiously. Her voice was still raspy from sleep.

“I requested to be transferred here after they decided to move you. Fury approved,” He gave her the short story as he threw the blanket over her.

Y/N appreciated it. She had felt a little cold and a blanket would offer her comfort. She wasn’t going to sleep now. Memories of her dream with Loki flooded into her mind and she felt her muscles tense.

Why on earth did she lean into his touch like that? Her blood turned to ice in her veins as she remembered just how comfortable she felt. What was that all about?

“Are you okay?” Thomas wondered.

Y/N investigated the cage where Loki was. The god of Mischief was sat on the same spot as before and now a cold look painted his face. He looked nothing like he did in her dream. Back there he seemed to kind, so gentle. Now he frightened her. His creepy gaze sent cold shivers down her spine. Was his cold exterior an act or was he truly the monster everyone said he was?

Brushing Loki off her mind, Y/N looked away as she stood up, wrapping the blanket over her shoulders. “I’m okay, Thomas. Just worn out. I didn’t expect this much from this mission.”

“I see. It must be nice to be somewhere new though,” Thomas assumed she was happy to be out of the facility. It was half the truth.

“Yeah, I mean I haven’t really gotten a chance to enjoy this yet. Fury doesn’t trust me,” She admitted.

That seemed to remind Thomas of something, “Right! He asked me to bring you to a conference room. Apparently, you should get to know your teammates better. I heard that Thor’s here.”

Thor? Oh, yes. Y/N remembered that the god agreed to come with them. She was surprised that she nearly forgot about that. “Lead the way,” Y/N told him, trying to seem excited when in reality she felt lost. All she could think about was Loki and his mysterious offer.

Just before they left, Y/N turned to look behind her shoulder to meet Loki’s gaze. It was so intense that it made goosebumps rise on her body. Whatever connection they had that allowed them to escape in a dreamy world, it was real. The look on Loki’s face said it all.

                  Just as promised, Thomas lead her to the others. When they entered the conference room, they were in full conversation already. Y/N knew she was supposed to be excited to get a chance to talk and interact with people, but now all she felt was anxiety. Would they think of her as a traitor?

“Any luck on finding the tesseract?” Natasha asked Y/N, being the first one to notice her. That made everyone else turn to her as well, eyes full of curiosity.

Y/N smiled a little bit as she walked further inside, “No. He said he sent it off and he doesn’t know where it is.”

“He told me so as well,” Thor let Y/N know. At least Loki was consistent with his story. Y/N noticed how oddly Thor looked at her, as if he was studying her. He didn’t say anything, but his eyes spoke louder than words. Y/N decided to ignore that.

“Do we have a plan?” Y/N ignored Thor and tried to focus on the mission.

“I’m going to talk to Barton once he’s in the right head-space,” Natasha explained. “Maybe he can recall something, anything that could be useful.”

That’s when Bruce Banner spoke up. Y/N hadn’t heard much from him yet, “I’m trying to study the scepter, but I haven’t figured out how it works. Tony and I will continue looking into that,” he let everyone know. The scepter was nearby. Y/N could feel its strong presence in the room. The scepter had negative energy packed into it, which was bizarre. Although it looked like metal and rocks, it felt like it was sentient. As odd as it was, Y/N believed that the scepter had the potential to reveal a lot it they could just dig into it.

Steve turned to look at Y/N, “You should try to speak with Loki again. Maybe Thor could help you. He’s his brother after all.”

They had clearly done much of the talking when she wasn’t there. It almost felt useless to even stand in the conference room.

“Find out why he killed 80 people in two days,” Natasha muttered clearly out of spite. It was understandable that they didn’t like Loki. Y/N shouldn’t like him either, but she couldn’t help but feel for him. He hadn’t shown any signs that he wanted to be Y/N’s enemy. It was hard to hate someone without a reason.

“He was adopted, but he’s still my brother. I will find out what this is all about,” Thor assured them. He just had to mention he was adopted. Yes, it was a surprise, but it was strange of him to mention it. Was Thor ashamed of Loki? It sure seemed like it.

“Maybe you’d like to see him alone first? He might speak with less distractions,” Y/N suggested, now facing Loki’s brother. He was tall and muscular too and a little intimidating, to be honest. But she wasn’t afraid. She had faced much worse and it seemed like Thor wasn’t a threat anymore.

He let out an empty laugh, “I don’t know how much he’ll talk to now. Things have changed since he left.”

Since he left? “What do you mean?” She inquired, curious to learn more about how Loki ended up on earth. Everyone else seemed just as keen to learn more about him.

Thor seemed tense as he prepared to explain the situation. Clearly, the past was a burden on his shoulders. “I think Loki is doing this to get revenge on me. We had a pretty nasty fight on Asgard. I let him go. I thought he was dead, but I was wrong,” Thor started dramatically. Would Loki truly go through so much to get revenge on his brother? Before anyone could question Thor, he continued, “When I caught him, Loki said something odd. He told me about worlds that he saw in his exile. The person I spoke to was so distant. It’s like Loki is far gone. Someone showed him these powers, but I do not know who.”

“Are you saying that Loki isn’t working alone?” Tony wanted it confirmed.

Thor faced the man of Iron heavily, “I think so, yes.”

“But who could he possibly be working with?” Y/N thought out loud. She tried to connect this new information with everything Loki had told her. He did seem like he was holding back but why? Was he threatened? Had he made a deal too?

Thor gave Y/N half a smile, “Let’s find out, shall we?”

 The moment after Thor and Y/N walked away from the others, Y/N sensed a shift in Thor’s demeanour. At first, she blamed it on his nerves. After all, he was going to talk to his brother who he had thought dead. Then Thor spoke to her, which confused her even further, “Have we met before, Lady Y/N?”

She narrowed her eyes and glanced at the golden locked man – god, beside her. “I don’t think so.”

“Are you sure?” Thor inquired.

“I’m sure I would remember if I had met you,” She faked a smile, deciding not to mention her issue with her memories. Surely, she hadn’t met Thor before. After all, he wasn’t even from Earth. Then again, Loki seemed to know her so why wouldn’t Thor?

Thankfully, Thor let it go. “You just remind me of someone. Must be a coincidence.”

They finally reached Loki’s cell, which filled Y/N with excitement and grudge. Perhaps now with Thor’s aid, they would get some answers. Hopefully, answers that would steer away the attention from her. She hated being treated like a criminal.

Loki glanced at them, almost as if he knew they were coming. Y/N let Thor go ahead and she followed behind closely, growing more nervous with each step she took. If Loki said one thing wrong, it would cost Y/N a lot. For now, she could only hope that Loki wasn’t in the mood to ruin her time.

“You’ve come to see me, but I assume it’s not for a heart-to-heart conversation,” Loki stared at Thor, raising his dark eyebrow curiously as he spoke.

“You assumed right,” Thor pulled his lips into a thin line, imitating a smile. It was clear he wasn’t happy at all. “As I said earlier, if you give up this wicked plan of yours and come home, we can put it all behind us.”

Somehow, that seemed to offend Loki. The proposal of going home didn’t make Loki look relieved or excited at all. Y/N crossed her arms over her chest as she stood there and studied the two otherworldly men. She was intrigued by their past. It wasn’t easy not to wonder how they ended up here, like this.

Loki walked around the cell, taking long yet silent steps. His hands rested on the small of his back and he seemed deep in thought. “You’re wasting your time, ‘brother’. Your blindness won’t let you see the deeper truth,” he finally spoke, spitting out the word ‘brother’ as if it were poison on his tongue. Then he glanced at Y/N, but luckily said nothing – yet.

“Then help me see!” Thor seemed frustrated with Loki. His words didn’t make sense at all. “Let me help you. You don’t have to anything you’ll regret.”

“Who’s to say I’ll regret anything at all?” Loki snapped angrily. He was so different now. Earlier, he seemed calmer and even kinder when he had spoken to Y/N.

Thor turned to face the woman who had been quiet so far. There was a shadow of desperation in his blue eyes. Was he hoping for her to say something?

Y/N felt the pressure on her shoulders, so she decided to try something. “Are you working alone?” She asked Loki, dismissing the conversation he had with his brother.

Loki faced her and some of his anger seemed to lift. “Ah- someone is asking the right questions.”

“You could be more straightforward,” Y/N narrowed her eyes and surprised herself with her attitude. She hadn’t intended to sound so harsh, but she hoped it would work on the god of mischief. Loki smiled. He seemed to like the sudden change in her attitude. Thor was quiet - for once - as he anticipated Loki’s reaction.

As Loki waltzed closer to Y/N, so close that the wall of his cage stopped him, she grew tense. Despite his witty smile, Y/N noticed something strange about him. His eyes were so sad. He looked at her longingly, which confused her beyond understanding. It almost convinced her that whatever façade he put up here had a deeper meaning. As they stood close, Y/N noticed other subtle details; Loki’s skin was pale and she could swear it looked bruised. His eyes were full of broken veins and whenever he put weight on his right leg, he seemed more cautious, almost like he was in pain. Something was wrong.

The silence dragged out too long for Thor’s liking. He couldn’t understand why Loki and Y/N were staring each other down. Thos has a lot on his mind right now. Seeing Y/N didn’t help at all, but he couldn’t bring himself to believe anything. It was merely a coincidence that she was so much like someone he knew long ago. Right now, Thor wanted his brother back. “Answer her question, brother.”

There, he had to ruin the moment. Y/N was frustrated because she felt like she was getting a grip on him. As soon as Thor spoke, Loki’s vulnerability disappeared. “If you truly want to find out, I’m sure you’ll find another way to reach your answers. Maybe punch your way through it all,” Loki suggested coldly.

“Don’t make me come in there!” Thor growled. Although he tried to sound angry, Y/N knew he was upset. Thor clearly cared about Loki, but their relationship had struggled a lot.

“Oh, I wouldn’t stop you,” Loki tried to rile him up.

To Y/N, that seemed like a terrible idea. She looked at them closely and felt a yawn creeping up on her. She tried to hold it back but failed miserably. Her hands covered her mouth, but they noticed her weariness.

“You’re boring her, brother,” Loki mocked Thor and turned his back to them.

“I know you’re not working alone, Loki. Whoever showed you these things…whoever they are, I will find out about it. This isn’t you-“

“I’ve changed!” Loki defended himself.

Then it was quiet.

Thor turned to Y/N and he sighed deeply. They didn’t have to say it because it was so clear. They weren’t going to get their answers from Loki this way. But it had been worth a try.

                         Fury had been kind enough to give Y/N a room where she could rest in. He had found Y/N with Thor and told her that he had seen the surveillance tape. According to Fury, it would be better for her to sleep in private than on the floor right next to a god-like ‘villain’. Y/N was more than grateful, although the room was small. It had a bed and a small nightstand. It was more than enough.

She took a shower, which was much needed and then she finally got under a blanket – the same blanket Thomas had given her. He must’ve taken it from the room. The moment Y/N’s head hit the pillow; she fell asleep. It was as if someone had turned off a switch. She drifted to her dreams with one thought in her mind, would she see Loki again?

 The sound of a kettle whistling on the stove caught Y/N’s attention. She was in an old-fashioned kitchen, sitting by the open window on a blue chair. She took her eyes off the small garden outside and hurried to the stove, taking the kettle off it, careful not to burn her fingers. There were two teacups on the counter with honey in them already. The golden goo had spread evenly on the bottom of each cup. Silently, Y/N poured the hot tea into the cups and then put the kettle away. With a spoon, she swirled the tea and watched how the honey disappeared from sight. It smelled amazing, like lemons and ginger.

Everything felt so peaceful. She was happy, but she couldn’t recall why.

Y/N grabbed the cups and made her way through the house like she had done it several times before. The house was so familiar. Even if there were no lights on, she would’ve surely known her way around. Eventually, she reached a large living room. The ceiling was high and the walls were pale green. On the couch with a book in hand was the man she dreamt of nearly every night. The sight of him warmed her heart. “I made tea,” Y/N told him and walked closer to him.

The man looked at her lovingly, putting his book away as he gladly accepted the hot drink from her. “Thank you, my love.”

Somehow, his voice made her stop in her tracks. He was really familiar. It felt like they had always known each other, but right now it was different. She looked at him and her head began to pound. A pained expression appeared on her face as her headache grew worse dangerously fast.

“Are you alright?” The man wondered. He put his cup away, hers too, and then he caught her hands in his. “What’s the matter?”

Y/N’s eyes widened as she remembered. That was Loki! She realized that she was dreaming again. Learning how to be aware in her dreams was peculiar. It all felt so real, like a memory. “Loki,” She breathed out his name. Why was he acting like that? The last time they met in a dream, he seemed fully aware of his surroundings too. Now…he was different.

“Do you need to lie down?” Loki asked her, clearly worried. He didn’t wait for an answer as he gently tugged her down to sit on the emerald couch. Y/N was in shock as she let him pull her with him. They sat so close and he didn’t let go of her hands. It felt nice, but she was so confused.

“Loki, what are you doing?” Y/N muttered, hoping that he would return to his usual self, whoever that was. This didn’t seem anything like the Loki in the cell.

He burrowed his dark eyebrows together and put his large hand on her forehead. “What am I doing? I want to make sure you’re alright, love.”

Love?

Y/N tried to think why he was acting this way. That’s when a thought summoned her. Perhaps she had dreamt herself into a memory? Maybe all her dreams with Loki were memories? As she looked around, she noticed just how old all the furniture was. The house barely even had electricity! It looked like it was ripped straight from the early 20th century.

She felt chills running all over her skin as she noticed more details. It had to be a memory! She was sure of it. That’s why Loki was acting so strange. But if it was a memory, did it mean they used to know each other? Were they close? It sure seemed that way. Why else would Loki hold her and call her such sweet things?

The longer she thought, the more freaked out she felt. This couldn’t be good.

“Y/N, darling. What’s wrong? Are you feeling sick?” Loki snapped her out of her thoughts.

By now, she felt tears pricking her eyes. Her headache didn’t go away completely, but it wasn’t that bad anymore. Something was happening to her, but she didn’t know what. She was shocked and frightened. Getting a word out of her mouth felt impossible.

Loki looked at her with pity when he noticed that she was on the verge of crying. Instead of mentioning it, he wrapped his arms around her shaking body and concealed her into a loving hug. Y/N rested against his chest and his cologne made its way to her lungs. It was such a familiar scent and it did manage to calm her down just a tad. When he hugged her, she blinked, and a few tears rolled down her face. The unknown was taking a toll on her. She felt guilty for enjoying this hug. It was the most comfort she had experienced in a very long time.

Loki’s hand rested on the back of her head, pulling her even closer to him. Despite how terrified she felt, she wrapped her arms around him and nuzzled her face in the crook of his neck. It felt like a reasonable thing to do.

“I’m here. Tell me what’s bothering you once you’re ready, I won’t rush you,” Loki cooed softly as his other hand drew patterns on her back. Even that felt good.

Y/N swallowed the lump that had formed in her throat as she tried to find her voice. It was a dream, so she figured that she couldn’t do much harm if she questioned this dream Loki. He must’ve been a creation of her lost memories. Perhaps, deep down she had these memories? Maybe this way she could reach them again?

“Who am I?” Y/N whispered, unsure which words she should use. At the end of the day, this was a conversation between her and her subconsciousness.

Loki backed away just enough so he could face her. He seemed deeply concerned. “Whatever do you mean?”

“I don’t…I don’t remember anything, Loki. I don’t even know what I am,” More tears escaped her eyes in a stream down her cheeks. All the pain, the paranoia, anxiety, everything seemed to return to her. The worry she had carried for decades, it was all there now. Feeling it all at once was difficult. It hurt. She hated crying, but she couldn’t help it.

Loki pulled her close again, letting her cry against his chest. When he placed a kiss on the top of her head, Y/N seemed to relax. That was Loki’s cue to speak, “You know more than you dare to admit, dear. Deep down, you’ve always known it. You might think you belong to the place you’re trapped, but it’s the furthest thing from the truth.”

She listened to every word he said. He was right. She had always known she was different than other human beings and at times she believed she wasn’t even human. Could it possibly be that she was something alien? It would make a lot of sense if that was the case.

“If I’m not human, what am I?” Y/N dared to ask him.

“All I can say is that you and I aren’t that different,” Loki replied mysteriously.

Loki was Asgardian. Could it mean that she was Asgardian? How come she didn’t remember anything about it? Why was she on Earth? That didn’t make any sense.

Loki seemed to notice how confused she became. “A lot had happened in your life. You started a new chapter on Midgard and encountered tragedy. It will take time for you to heal and remember but be patient. One step at the same is more than enough.”

Why was Loki being so damn mysterious? Was it him or was she having a conversation with her own subconscious? Y/N felt impatient, she wanted to remember more. She wanted to know more. She wanted to believe, truly she did, but she wasn’t sure if she could. It was frustrating. All she wanted was for someone to be honest and straightforward with her. All of the mindgames were tiring.

Y/N took a deep breath and tried to relax in Loki’s arms. “What are we?” She whispered her question. It made her heartbeat faster, jumping all the way to her throat as she waited.

A chuckle left Loki’s lips. He slid his palm to her cheek, cupping the side of her face so he could make her face him. His handsome face was dangerously close now. “We’re two beings who are destined to find each other again and again…” He seemed to lean closer to her as he spoke. Y/N felt his nose brush against hers and Loki tilted his face. Why didn’t she back off? She blamed her dream state for being so comfortable with this. Her eyelids closed gently, and she felt Loki’s lips on hers. They were soft, gentle, familiar. The kiss was so inviting, and she seemed to kiss him back without giving it any second thoughts. In fact, it felt good to kiss him. Their kiss was passionate and electric. It felt like sparks ignited between them and made her feel happy.

As their lips parted, she found herself wanting more, but she didn’t initiate anything. That’s when Loki spoke again, looking directly into her eyes as he did so, “…and again.”

 Loud knocking pulled Y/N out of her slumber. She groaned, annoyed of being awakened. As she opened her eyes, she found herself staring at a metal ceiling. It reminded her of the enormous helicarrier she was in. The mission, Loki, everything came back to her. That’s when the door opened, and Thomas entered.

“I’m sorry to wake you, but Thor wanted me to fetch you. It’s about Loki.”

Y/N remembered her dream and she felt her cheeks heat up. She had been fully aware in her dream and she had kissed him! Thinking about it now was bizarre. She felt embarrassed and she truly hoped that there was no way for Loki to find out about it. Could the things be true what dream Loki told her? She feared they were.

“It’s alright. I’ll come with you,” She cleared her throat and got up from the comfort of the bed. Her body was still half asleep, but she would be alright. Surely, seeing Loki would wake her up. The thought of facing him after her dream was making her nervous. After she had brushed her hair and straightened her clothes from wrinkles, she was good to go.

They walked out into the corridor, like they had done many times before, and Thomas let his curiosity guide him. “So, you’re an Avenger now?”

“An ‘Avenger’?” Y/N wondered.

“Oh, they didn’t tell you. Right, well this project is called the Avengers project. I suppose the team they put together, you included, is called that which makes you an Avenger. I thought Fury told you that much,” Thomas explained it to her. Even he knew more about this than her. It made Y/N’s gut pinch a little bit. She felt so underappreciated.

“I suppose you’re right. And no, they haven’t told me that much yet,” Y/N answered with a hope someone would tell her more sooner or later.

As they were about to turn to the right, the alarms on the helicarrier went off. Only a moment later, they heard a loud roar from a small distance away. It only took them a few seconds to realize something was horribly wrong.

Someone or something had awakened the true beast onboard, the Hulk.

“Fuck,” Y/N cursed as she put the pieces together.

“This can’t be good,” Thomas seemed just as worried. He had been told to keep an eye on Y/N and that he would do. “Let’s go check if Loki is in the cage.”

That was an odd thing to do when a huge, raging monster was roaming the ship, but Y/N didn’t bother to say anything. She followed him as they broke into a run. In only a short moment, they reached the space where Loki’s cage was.

The cage itself was missing!

Y/N felt nauseous as she saw it. Loki was missing, the cage was missing, the Hulk was rampaging the ship and…

there was a body on the ground. Thomas and Y/N noticed it at the same time, but Thomas reacted to it much stronger. “Agent Coulson!” He yelled his name with worry and then ran towards his bleeding body. Y/N stood there. She could tell that Coulson was gone. The poor man wasn’t moving nor breathing at all. Despite how much she hated everyone working for S.H.I.E.L.D, it was shocking to see his lifeless body.

“Stay with him, I’ll go find the others. Maybe I can make myself useful!” Y/N told Thomas and left without waiting for a reply. Adrenaline rushed through her body as she sprinted through the corridors, hoping to find anyone or anything to do. This could be her chance to prove herself useful.

She nearly reached the lab when a voice caught her by surprise. It was Loki’s voice, “Y/N.”

She turned around swiftly and nearly screamed when she saw the man right behind her. Luckily, she managed to stay quiet as they faced each other. Now without the cage, she felt tense. Although Loki had been nice to her so far, she was still cautious. Besides, he was holding the sceptre! It was glowing yellow as he held it, pointing it at her. Something told her that this wasn’t good. “What did you do?”

“Oh, I got myself out of that cage. I have a job to finish. My offer still stands,” Loki offered her freedom again, at the price of cooperation. The last time, he seemed worried about her assistance. He hadn’t been holding the sceptre back then. He had seemed so much more concerned, frightened even. Now he had a dark look in his eyes, and he seemed excited.

Was the damn sceptre affecting him? Or had this been his plan all along?

“Come on, you can’t seriously wish to stay here. They’re using you for your powers. You’re not free,” Loki was in a rush. He needed to know now whether she would join him or not. Truly, he wished for her to join him so they would be together again. Y/N didn’t want to lose him, because of the answers she wanted to get from him. The longer they stood there, listening to the loud alarms, the more stressed they both felt.

Y/N’s dream returned to her mind. What he said repeated in her head clearly, ‘we’re just two beings who are destined to find each other again and again…and again’. The words somehow made her feel confident of her choice although it was absurd! If they got caught, she would lose her possible freedom. But if they succeeded in this, whatever ‘this’ was, she could get the answers she had waited for, for so long now.

Wishing that she wouldn’t regret it, she faced Loki with a determined expression. “Fine. I’ll join you. But you’ll have to answer my questions.”

A vicious smile spread on Loki’s face. “I knew you’d come to your senses. Now let’s go,” He grabbed her hand and pulled her with him. Yes, Y/N feared diving nose first into the unknown but running with Loki made her feel something she deeply desired. Her body felt alive, her heart was racing wildly in her chest and strangely enough she felt free.

[Ch. 3]

A/N: Your feedback would mean the world to me. Reblogs are stronger than likes. 💕

TAGS:  @lokislittlecorner @angelicwolf98 @iraniq  @thegirlbeyondtheuniverse @chipmunkchick @chimera4plums @myraiswack @grincheveryday @surprisinglyaestheticinfj @kinghiddlestonanddixon​ @subtlemalice​ @alfoos​ @ayamenimthiriel​ @whimsicalwoodlands​ @strangemcuvlogs​

[MASTERLIST]

[malfoymuch]

somebody else [draco malfoy]

Pairing; Ex! Draco x Reader, Harry Potter x Reader 

Genre; Angst and fluff (a bit dramatic too, honestly)

Word Count; 3k+

Request; @braelynn-j Could you do an imagine loosely based off of lyric “I don’t want your body but I hate to think about you with someone else.” By the 1975. Like maybe the reader and Draco just broke up and to get him angsty she starts canoodling with Harry and Draco gets upset and confronts her or something. Idk. Do whatever you want. You’ll make it great no matter what you do 😌💕

Summary: Draco and you had left the relationship as a “couple” on a good note. But now that you’re confirmed to be with Harry after just two weeks, Draco doesn’t understand really why he feels “lonely.” This fic is geared towards Draco, and his self-like journey to what he truly desires...

A/N: First off, thank you so much for the request, love !! I’m sorry it took a bit of time, I wanted to try and create a way for it to be more original and express the emotions that are lacked rather than the person, as they split. However, I must tell you that Draco and the reader DO NOT get back together as a couple, because I didn’t really that would be best throughout the story. I took a bit of my own little spin on the lyrics, so I apologize if this wasn’t really what you expected. 

     His eyes dropped to the corner of the desk, noting each curve of wood and crack of the platform, including the interesting textures of the wall near it. Lately, Draco had been much more observant through his everyday life, whether it may be staring off into space or a casual conversation with a classmate. 

     Noticing the world around him, and people’s tendencies. As they lie or slither in a small insult. How they present themselves, or how they act when they are happy. The casual nose crunch, eye crinkles, the curve of one’s mouth as they express emotion. 

     It seemed Draco had lived in a completely different world. Much more keen to the world he had not been so consciously aware of. It made him set a much more barricaded version of himself, a much more attentive adaptation of himself. 

     Now, not all aspects of it were bad. But the more he noticed, the more lonely he realized he’d become. 

     Some would already say when a couple splits it gets quite lonely, perhaps even worse than it was before. The longing for them again, the regret of letting go-- of how it ended. 

     But for Draco, he didn’t quite know. It seemed that he wasn’t really knowledgeable when it came to feelings, especially ones that weren’t conveyed often. Draco’s relationship with you hadn’t even been an uproar of much, just the mutual understanding that things weren’t going well-- and that the pressure may have been overbearing at this point in time.  

     So regretting the way he let you go was out of the picture, because he felt proud that he hadn’t just snapped and screamed… but listened and gave a response when it was his time… like you taught him. 

     No. No, it had to be a different reason. 

     It had only been two weeks, and to be honest, he wasn’t in the best condition. He kept a distance from the world, a safe one. A noticeable barrier that everyone must endure, and if they managed to break it down-- they’d earned his trust. 

     He’d done it before. 

     And you passed. Without knowing, or doubtful of what was to come afterward, you did it-- knowing he needed someone. 

     So… maybe that’s what angered him, and made him feel lonely. And the rumors of you canoodling with Harry-- and moving on so quickly, made him feel more alone. Harry, he was an okay-type of lad. He wasn’t exactly the worst, but not the greatest… 

     He didn’t want to know the things you did with Harry. He didn’t care, honestly. It was the fact that since you left, it was just a presence missing, a feeling missing… perhaps reassurance? Hope? 

     A sense of belonging… 

     Draco didn’t want to get back together (or at least, that’s how he felt), he wasn’t heartbroken like the entire Hogwarts student body envisioned him-- in fact, it just gave him a new reality of how empty being a Malfoy was… how isolated he is, suffocating every corner he turned-- new faces to see, new people to meet and make an incredible impression on, more responsibility? 

     For the first time in a long while, Draco had finally felt the weight carrying him down, by everyone around him. 

     How easy it was for his family to convince him to be the new heir, molding him as if he was a piece of clay. It was only so many tries before the clay started to harden… and crack. 

     But when you came in, it was he was a fresh new canvas. A newly created, lively young boy, eager for both you and the world. It gave him a purpose, to know that someone had taken the time to appreciate him as a whole-- someone he knew that if he broke down, would piece him back together, and vice versa. 

     So, in a sense, he didn’t like the fact that Potter now had that chance. And he didn’t. And it angered him more at the mere thought that Potter might only think of you as a source of comfort for a short timespan. Who knows, maybe he did brew feelings in the last two weeks and did take it seriously?

     He wasn’t a jealous ex, or at least, he doesn’t think he is. Because he knew you were happy with Harry, and that was fine. Draco wasn’t dying to have your body next to his, but much rather, your words. 

     He had lost one of the best, major influencers in his life… it may be a bit dramatic, but he certainly thought so. So yes, he was upset. He was very much upset, to see you move on so quickly, and be happy. 

     But in the end, there was nothing he could do. He was satisfied enough the things didn’t blow up in front of his face, so that was that… wasn’t it? 

     “Draco? Are you all right, mate?” Blaise Zabini questioned, nudging his shoulder against Draco’s, making his head spike up from the desk. 

     “Did you say something? Sorry, wasn’t listening…” he mumbled back, his eyes soon trailing to the corner where you were talking to Harry and his friends, laughing and smiling brightly. 

     “I was asking you how long has it been since you’ve last eaten… you look like a ghost buddy… you should probably go get rest or head to the hospital wing. Madam Pomfrey can get a good look at you--” 

     “I’m perfectly fine…” Draco groaned, leaning his head back down on the desk, ignoring the spinning of his head. 

     “Mate, do you ever know how stupid you look? You look like you’re on the verge of passing out… you can’t ever keep your head up can you?” 

     “I said I’m fine… belt up,” he dragged out the vowels, placing his forehead against the cold temperature of the wood, breathing in sharply. 

     “You don’t have to be so uptight about it,” Zabini huffed, “I was just asking you a question… it’s not my fault you’re all hung up over (Y/N)--” 

     Suddenly Draco grabbed the collar of his robes, pulling him from his seat, his eyes blazing. Draco ignored the sudden pause of everyone’s movements, their attention now directly on his as his grip tightened, tugging his “friend” closer. 

     “The reason I’m like this isn’t because of (Y/N), all right? Get it through that thick skull of yours that my life doesn’t revolve around a single person, and no one does for you either. So quit being a pompous ass and hold your tongue, before I chop it off,” Draco demanded, shoving him roughing into his seat. As he did so, his eyes darted towards the classroom, and his eyes immediately stared into yours. 

     His mind felt hazy, his vision clouded as it began to lighten and see duplicates of everything. All he could vaguely see was a hand jumped out towards him, with the sound of someone calling out: “Draco!” 

….

     Draco woke up with a nasty pain in his lower back, groaning as a headache had also taken force. His eyes screwed shut for a good while, the sunlight blinding him momentarily, the rays shooting him down. He laid back onto the bed, cussing under his breath as he knew where he was. 

     Hogwart’s bloody hospital wing… 

     In an attempt to spring from the bed and leave before being noticed, he felt a hand resting on his, and his mouth turned dry. There, dozed off beside him on the bed… was you. 

     But why? 

     You had Harry. Harry and a bunch of other friends that you could’ve seen, spent time with, instead of being next to him. Cuddling up next to your new boy as you shared a series of laughs with, telling jokes about your past… so why were you with him? 

     An ex, his ex, laying next to him, in such a godly uncomfortable position. Your back so badly hunched over, arm under your to provide a sliver of comfort to the awkward way your body was caving. Unknowingly, his hand flipped over, holding yours, his thumb rubbing small circles on yours-- a small gesture he had always done, for both you and him. 

     “I don’t think I miss being boyfriend and girlfriend with you,” he started, not knowing what had gotten over him. One of his spurs of the moment. “Perhaps I’m saying this because I found out you were with Potter… and to be honest, I was not the happiest man in the world when I found out. But I’m happy for you-- so why do I still feel lonely?” 

     “I think… I think I’ve finally noticed just how easy the world seemed to be, with you in it. Maybe this whole time, you were a distraction? In a good way, from the world? And… and when you left… I don’t know what happened? I’ve noticed so many more things than I noticed before…? Like just how much a prick people were, and how Zabini seems to lies through his teeth until he ever so slightly flares his nose? Or how Pansy right eye crinkles more than other? I don’t know where I’m going with this…” he chuckled, his throat hoarse, but he pressed on. 

     “I don’t know what’s going with me, but maybe, after our splitting… it’s helped. And I won’t deny that I do miss you, but of course, I wouldn’t really manage to voice it out loud, though I think you’re well aware of my glances from across the classroom. You’re happy with Potter, rebound or not, I’m okay with it. Because it means that you’re glad, and that’s all I’ve ever wanted…” a sniffle came from Draco, and another laugh passed through his throat. 

     “Oh great, I’m getting all emotional… and you’re not even up, I’ve gotten so emotional it’s rather irritating. I won’t ever tell you this while you’re awake, but thank you, for everything. Another thing I did learn from all of this, is that I should probably eat, I’m starting to get frightened of myself with how bad I managed to look.” He smiled brightly, looking down at you. 

     A small smile passed through your lips as you softly giggled, and Draco’s immediately dropped. 

     “Bloody hell, you were awake? The whole time? The whole time? You didn’t bother to say anything ‘till now?” He jeered, his mind blown that he had confessed his feelings, and you heard everything. “And why are you even here? Shouldn’t you be with your boyfriend? Potter?” 

     “You know, you don’t have to be so grown-up all the time? It’s okay to tell me about these kinds of things, especially when they concern me?” You teasingly taunted, cracking your neck from your position as you raised a brow. 

     “You sound like you’ve had a sudden awakening of the world, and I don’t know if that’s exactly great… And I came here because you weren’t doing well, Harry can manage on his own.” You rolled your eyes, dismissively raising your hand in the air as you laughed. “I wanted to check up on you, and to talk to you.” 

     “There’s nothing really left to talk about,” Draco stated, shrugging. “I’ve said everything I wanted to say.” 

     “But I didn’t.” You replied smoothly, scooching over more towards Draco, taking your hand in his again. “I know we’ve ended things, and I’ve… fairly quickly went to Harry. But do know it was because he offered me emotional support, and I need to know if you have that too, Draco.” 

     Draco’s heart pounded in his chest and your words and then sank. Plummeted. 

     No. He thought. Of course, he didn’t have someone to talk to… you were that person he thought always would, and could. 

     “Of course,” Draco laughed, neglecting the brewing feeling within him, “I’ve always managed… this time will be no different.” 

     “It is different, Draco. The difference is you’ve been skipping on meals or having occasional blackouts, and honestly, I blame myself for you being like this every day,” you said, starting to tear up. Draco instantly leaned forward, wiping the small droplets. 

     “How is this your fault? We both ended it on a good note, (Y/N). Honestly, I’m amazed we did--” 

     “Draco, did you want to end the relationship?” 

     “Yes, it would’ve been best for both of us. We were having a fallout. We were slowly losing it a bit with everything going on, it was the best option--” 

     “Draco, who have you talked to, since we’ve broken up?” Draco’s mouth creased into a frown as he huffed. 

     “I’ve talked to multiple people! There’s Zabini, Pansy, Crabbe and Goyle…” 

     “No, Draco. I mean who have you talked to, all of this.” You gestured to his red face and puffy eyes. “Who have you talked to, about all your emotions, Draco? Draco, do you have someone to talk to?”

     Draco’s head hanged low as he stared at the bedsheets, his eyes moving anywhere but yours. No. 

     His hand clasped yours as he stared deeply into your eyes, mouth tugging into a small smile. 

     “I’m doing okay now, (Y/N). And I will be, now that I’ve talked to you about it… though I thought you were asleep,” he ruffled your hair. “But do know, if Potter tries something I’ll duff him up a bit, y’know… as friends. One friend to another.” A small cough passed through your lips as you shook your head, your smile still growing. 

     “Well, if you ever need me, Draco. I’ll be there, especially now. Because now I need to make sure you eat.” You mocked, pinching his hand a little, shocking him as he let out a painful laugh. “Oh, knock it off, alright? I learned my lesson…” His voice dragged out, before his eyes soon lowered to his hands intertwined with yours. 

     “You should probably get back to Potter, he’ll be worried soon… visiting hours are technically over soon--” 

     “You sure are quick to try and get rid of me, aren’t you?” The question was meant to come off as a joke, however, Draco seemed startled. 

     “No! It’s not anything like that… you have your own life, and other people in it. Besides, we’re not together--” 

     “Doesn’t mean I can’t be there for you, right?” You reasoned, bending down to try and meet his eyes once more. “I may be Potter, but that doesn’t mean we aren’t there for each other. You haven’t lost me, Draco. I still care, whether we’re together or not.” The right side of Draco’s lips shifting up, tilting his head to the side as he spared you a glance. 

     “I don’t think Potter will be happy with that, I wouldn’t really be.” 

     “Who cares what Potter thinks? Or anyone else? As long as both of us know that it’s nothing like that, does it matter?” 

     “I guess not,” Draco laughed, his arms raising up as an act of surrender. “But I will not be responsible if he gets slugged out of the blue.” A surprised gasp was heard as you tackled Draco, slapping him (not harshly) on his shoulder and chest. 

     “I don’t him hurt… unless he deserved it,” you whispered the last part, barely audible. Draco’s eyes grew as he leaned a bit closer, smirking. 

     “What? What was that? I don’t think I heard you correctly,” he teased, his hands coming up to grasp your shoulders gently, leaning in. Your face flushed in embarrassment as you covered your face, shoving him away from you. 

     “Nothing! I said nothing!” 

     “Ya right,” Draco muttered, his hand tickling you to your side, making a loud gasp and a series of laughs to follow through. This continued for a few moments more before you had enough. 

     “Alright alright! I said if he deserves it you can do it…” you said frustrated, punching him in the air as you rolled off the bed and back into the little stool. 

     “I’ll make sure he deserves it first, and then make sure he knows he deserved it,” both of you laughed as he attempted to say it in his an intimidating voice. Leaning against his pillow, silence ensued as he stared at you. And the gears in his head turning again. 

     For a long time, it seemed that Draco had kept himself in the dark, hidden from most. But you were there, for him. 

     No, he didn’t miss your “couple” relationship with him. He didn’t need the hand-holding, kisses, or any real contact from your body. Not like that, at least. 

     It was just the feeling… the feeling of feeling at home, for once. The thought of knowing someone was always there, beside you, to emotionally give you support. It was in a way, a sense of belonging, not to the person, but the world. 

     There are all different types of relationships, Draco learned. Friendship can be just as powerful or more than having a spouse, because the love is still there… but maybe it’s overlooked.

     Because in the end, both relationships are founded on love, respect, and caring. 

     Being with someone as a couple and being with them now as a friend gave Draco much more insight than he could ever imagine. About his friends, the world around him, his family. He didn’t need to completely break ties with you, after it all, he would just be as he always had--

     Draco didn’t need you to come to back to him. He didn’t want to “win” you over from Potter. As he said, it was a mutual ending of the relationship… being together in that sense just wasn’t working. But it seemed to have that type of friend might last. One that was always there for each other. 

     And Draco was perfectly okay with that. He didn’t need to hold you in his arms romantically, cuddling and professing your love to each other. 

     No, he just needed a friend. 

     The thought of you with somebody else, now, was fine. 

     Because you could be with somebody else, in that type of relationship, but at the end of the day, he knew he still had you. 

     (Y/N) (L/N), both his ex and best friend. 

    And he wouldn’t have it any other way, at the end of the day. 

Fin. 

---

Hey!! Hope you enjoyed the story. For this one, I think I just really wanted to put in detail that Draco’s desire wasn’t exactly their relationship as a couple, but the relationship of feeling at ease, and at home. I wanted to express (though I think I did kind of poorly) just how important a friend could be, one you could trust, much more than simply having a significant other. It’s the mutual understanding of one another, and supporting them through everything they do. 

It also brought me to the part where couples who split can still be friends, and sometimes that type of “love” just doesn’t work, but another one can rise. In this case, Draco seemed lost and disgusted more of the fact that he had thought he lost that feeling of home, and Harry becoming (Y/N)’s new sense of a home. Where in reality, he realizes being open and confronting her opened his eyes. I didn’t want them to end up together in the end ‘cause I didn’t think it would feel right, but for them to grow by accepting that they’ve split, and Draco’s just longed for someone to understand him rather than a partner. 

I hoped you enjoyed it!! This probably has to be one of my favorite written pieces, strictly because I didn’t make them end up together in the end. And targeted Draco’s emotions in a piece rather than the reader. Thank you once again !! 

----

Permanent Tags; 

@amberkay284​

[jeon-googi]

Winter Bear

— pairing: Photographer!Taehyung X Artist!Reader

 — genre: Slice of life, Romance

— words: 4k

— rating: SFW

— warnings: none~

— notes: I think this may be my favorite one so far, I kind of just woke up last night and started writing and tbh I’m really happy with the outcome. I hope you all like it as well 

-

-

-

-

You hadn’t exactly noticed him at first. You mean, at your small arts college you were well into your third year and could name almost everyone by now. Yet somehow in the corner of the class, one nameless student sat. His hair was shaggy and it covered his eyes and most often his clothes were oversized, making his hands look like small paws as he fiddled with his camera. His camera seemed to be the one thing permanently stuck to his body as you noticed, it never left his hands. In class as the professor would demonstrate, you notice rather than looking with his own eyes, he liked to look through the eyes of the camera lense instead, as if it somehow made more sense to him this way. 

You found all this out from one class period. Soon the professor dismissed the class and you began to slowly pack your belongings, still captivated by the nameless boy. He too quickly packed up his belongings, a canvas tote with some sketch pads and his pencils, and left with his camera in hand. Now you wouldn’t consider yourself a stalker so to say, but he most definitely caught your attention. Leaving the classroom only a few paces behind him, you kept a discreet eye on him, as he floated through the halls of the art building. He liked to stop occasionally, at windows, and peer through the camera. You figured he was taking photos, as he would pull back and glance at the screen, either a slight scowl or a neutral look on his face. You followed for as long as you could, before he reached the large stairs leading to the roof. There was no way you could follow without suspicion so you turned around quickly and left down the hall, unaware of the camera angled back at you, the gleam in the photographer's eye as he captured the way your hair moved in the sunlight. 

Your second day of classes noticing the camera boy went as uneventful as the first one, but today, you learned his name was Taehyung. 

“Taehyung, how does the composition of this painting make you feel the artist's emotions?”

Your ears perked up at the mention of his name as you glanced at him from across the classroom, Taehyung deep in thought as he toyed with the strap of his camera. He seemed to be deep in thought as he stared at his desk, but soon enough his head shot up to look at the board. 

“The composition isn’t what makes you feel the emotion, it resides with the colors.”

Your eyes widened a bit, you weren’t expecting his voice to be so deep. Your teacher nodded in agreement, “Good I am glad you caught on. See class this painting in particular-” 

The rest of the lecture droned on for you, but you couldn’t help but be so curious about Taehyung. You hands absentmindedly sketched down every aspect you watched, the profile of his face, his hands, the hair in his eyes. To be quite honest, you weren’t expecting to feel so inspired. 

‘Maybe it’s a sign…’ you thought, as the class ended and everyone began to pack up their things. The teacher had written on the board the final date for your classes end of the year exhibition, and so far, this boy in class was the only thing striking your creative nerve. Making sure you threw everything into your bag, you mustered up enough courage to quickly make your way over to him. Up close, he still didn’t even acknowledge your presence fixated on his notes in front of him,  until you gently tapped him on the shoulder, shaking him from his daze. 

“Um hey?” You smiled, gripping the strap of your tote bag nervously. He stared at you wide eyed as he nodded a greeting back to you. 

“I know this is a little embarrassing, but I’m Y/n...and I was wondering if for my exhibition, you would model for me?” You asked quickly, your heart pounding in your chest. “You see..I’ve been in quite a rut lately and well, right now your kind of like...my muse?” You explained, trying not to sound like a weirdo. You dug through your bag quickly and pulled out the few pages you had sketched and laid them out on the table before him. “I mostly focus on sketches and charcoal, so I wouldn’t need too much of your time...” 

Taehyung’s eyes carefully scanned over your work, his hands lightly brushing the lines on the page as he recognized them as his own. His eyes went a little wide as he stared back at you. “You really...want to sketch me for your final grade?” He asked, almost in disbelief. You nodded vigorously. “Yes!”

He smiled a bit at your excitement before collecting your sketches and passing them back to you. “Alright, I guess I’ll do it then.” You really couldn't contain your excitement as you thanked him fervently. You both planned to meet after classes on select days of the week, after all, you didn’t want to take up too much of his time since you knew he would also need to prepare for his final project as well. You used an old classroom on the third floor of the art building that never was used anymore, so you made it your own personal studio. You couldn’t lie, you were nervous. After all, it would be your first time alone with Taehyung. As you began to set up your easel and supplies, the door softly creaked open. Taehyung's head appeared through the door, giving you a boxy smile when he saw you. 

“Hey Taehyung!” You smiled, pulling out the last few pieces of your supplies. He entered the room, dressed in a black turtleneck and denim jacket, a small pair of glasses resting gently on his face. He was handsome. That was easy enough, but there was some sort of poeticness to everything he did, from the way he fidgeted with a ring on his finger, or how he fixed his hair. You were utterly captivated by Kim Taehyung. 

“I’ll just have you take a seat, and I’ll start the first round of sketches.” you instructed, pointing him in the direction of the chair. He nodded and sat down quickly, his hands placed in his lap. You tapped your pencil to your lip gently as you examined his position. “You look just a little too...stiff. How about we try this?” You walked over to the chair, motioning him to stand up. Quickly you flipped the chair around, sitting with the back against your chest, resting your head on your arms with your fingers gently dangling. 

“I think this will be most comfortable for you, and I will get the points I want.” You smiled. Taehyung nodded as he mimicked your position on the chair, glancing at you to make sure he got it right. “Perfect.” you smiled and began to sketch. The silence at first was awkward, more so for Taehyung as he had nothing to do except not move. You realized this a little too late into the session and felt bad immediately. 

“So Taehyung...what program are you in right now?” you asked, glancing at him from behind the easel.

“Photography.” he answered simply, moving his eyes so he could look at you a little bit better. You cocked your head as you looked back at your sketch. “If you are in the photography program, why are you in the painting class then?” You asked curiously. “I realized I had never seen you before so I was curious.” you added. He nodded, “Well it’s all relative isn’t it? I like understanding the emotions of painting so I could replicate it in my photography.” You nodded in understanding as you placed your tools down, stretching your arms out. “That does make sense. Maybe you are a genius Kim Taehyung.” you teased as you stood up, grabbing a water for yourself and one for him as well. He gratefully took the drink as he stretched his arms out, groaning from the stiffness of his body. You pulled a chair up next to him and slumped down exhausted. “That should be enough for today. It’s already looking like how I pictured.” You admitted, wiping your hands clean on your jeans. Taehyung smiled politely, “I’m glad I could be of some help to you.” You watched him carefully, excited at the opportunity to see him so close. “What do you think you're going to do for your final project?” You asked, standing up so you could start packing up your belongings. Taehyung gave a shrug, “I started a few different portfolios throughout the year, I’m just not sure which one I will use.” You nodded in understanding. “What do you like to photograph the most then?” Taehyung thought for a moment as he helped clean up. “People probably. I like seeing what others can’t.” You bit back a smile at his remark. “How very philosophical Taehyung.” You grinned as he chuckled sheepishly. “Well why do you like sketching? Specifically me?” He asked with a cheeky smile. You rolled your eyes as you took the paper off your easel, rolling it up into your tote. “Don’t flatter yourself, you just happened to be there when my inspiration struck.” Both of you laughed as you finished cleaning and locking up the room behind you. “See you next time!” You smiled as you gave him a wave goodbye. Taehyung nodded his goodbye as he left down the other end of the hall. 

That night you stared at the sketch. 

“It really doesn’t capture enough of...him.” You decided as you examined it closely. Sure, you captured his anatomy to the best of your ability but it didn’t scream Kim Taehyung. You started closely at the fine lines of his hands before you realized what was missing. 

The next session, Taehyung positioned himself in his original spot, but cocked his head as he heard your request. 

“My camera…?” 

You nodded, “The sketch is fine but it’s missing some sort of… Taehyung essence if you will.” You explained. “You always have your camera with you, I think that would help in my sketch.” Taehyung nodded, listening to your explanation. He stood up to go to his bag on the nearby table, rummaging through it until the silver device appeared. Putting himself back into the same position but now, from his hand dangled the camera. You stared transfixed on him, now this was exactly what you were missing. Starting to work you quickly sketched the camera into his hand, relishing in the new soul within your piece. Focused on your work, you didn’t even notice his finger moving until his camera shuttered and flashed. You glanced over at him, a mischievous smile on his face. “My hand slipped.” You rolled your eyes as you continued your work, “So Taehyung, you like to photograph people. Who are your favorite people to photograph?” 

You could see his eyes flit back and forth as he thought of an answer. “My friends. They inspire me a lot.” He admitted as you nodded to encourage him to continue. He started to name off his group, Jimin and Hoseok from the dance program, and Jungkook who was also in photography. Yoongi from music production. Namjoon from political science and Jin from management. “We’ve all been friends since freshman year.. I’m not sure what I would do without them.” His words were so earnest and full of love it made you feel a bit emotional towards these people you never met. “They sound like really great people Taehyung.” You smiled, setting down your charcoal and wiping your hands on your pants. “We can take a break now.” You smiled, walking back over to him. He smiled his thanks as he stretched out from the chair, groaning with pleasure. 

The sunlight shone in from the large window at the front of the classroom, golden dust particles dancing in the air between you two. The sun caressed Taehyung's face gently, casting him in a golden glow. Smiling you glanced away, your heart fluttering gently. “Thanks for taking the time to pose for me. How about we go get some lunch? My treat?” You offered, collecting your bag from off of the floor. Taehyung nodded, “Sounds perfect.” As he collected his own belongings. Leaving the room you both made your way outside onto your school's campus, the trees swaying gently in the spring breeze. You both found out you loved coffee and pastries, loved reading and watching movies, and enjoyed the same music. There was a cafe nearby and you two took some seats on the patio across from each other. Taehyung quickly pulled out his camera and started looking through the lense at the scenery before him. 

“Why do you do that?” You asked, sipping on your coffee. He glanced at you with a raised eyebrow, “Do what?” You motioned to the camera, “You always just look through the lense, you’re not even taking pictures” He glanced at his camera and made an ah sound. “Well you never know when the perfect picture could happen. I like to look around and see if anything looks worth shooting-” He resumed his position of looking through his camera before abruptly turning it to you, quickly capturing a photo. You looked at him bewildered as he glanced at the preview on the screen. “Perfect…” He mumbled with a smile, his eyes glancing up to yours. The blush on your face was immediate as you huffed it off, taking a sip of your coffee. Taehyung grinned as well, not taking his eyes off of you and you quickly changed the subject. 

Before you knew it, it was the end of the semester, only a few more days before your final exhibition. You were so excited to finally be able to relax and take a break but soon you also realized, you only had one more sketch session with Taehyung. Over the course of the last few weeks, the two of you grew close. The air seemed to change between you two during the last few sessions, Taehyung's eyes somehow always finding yours and when you would call him over to see your work, he would lean in close, one hand one the back of your chair and his face close to yours. After sessions you would stare at your work, a twinge of sadness creeping into your mind. 

The last session with Taehyung came quick. You found yourself slowly setting up this time around, your hands lingering on the easel and on the paper before you. You almost didn’t even hear the door open before Taehyung crept in. 

“Are you excited Y/n?” He asked with a smile, taking his seat in the center of the room. You cocked your head before he laughed softly, “It’s our last session, your project will be done soon!” Your smile faltered a bit before you were able to nod your head excited, “I’m ready for a break! How about you? Your portfolio coming along?” You two chatted and discussed while you began your warm up sketch, the daylight casting long shadows throughout the room. Before you knew it, the room was starting to grow dark. 

‘No...no, no, no.’ As quick as it began, your last session with Taehyung had to end. 

“Wow Y/n these are amazing. I can’t wait to see the final project!” He smiled at you, collecting his belongings. You nodded quietly, rolling up the paper into your bag. It was all too much. You didn’t realize how much you enjoyed his company, how quickly he became a constant in your life. You didn't realize a few tears started falling past your lashes, and Taehyung's demeanor changed quickly. Placing his bag on the nearest table he jogged over to you, your head hanging low as you gripped your tote. 

“Y/n, Y/n what's wrong?” He asked concerned, his hand gently reaching for your face, gently lifting your face to his. 

“I-t’s nothing…” You sniffled, trying to wipe your face quickly. Taehyung shook his head, “No what is wrong? You wouldn’t be crying if you were fine.” He said softly, his thumb gently tracing soothing patterns on your cheeks. 

‘How can I tell him?’

‘Does he feel the same way?’

Your eyes glanced towards the floor before putting on a fake smile, “I’ve just grown so used to seeing you, I’m sad I won’t see my friend as often.”

Taehyung watched carefully as he lowered his hands, “Ah...well were still going to be friends. We can see each other soon.” He said with a smile, “But don’t be sad because of that. Let's get going.” 

You couldn’t tell exactly what happened, but Taehyung's demeanor dropped. Mentally punishing yourself for making things awkward you two parted ways in the hall, giving one last wave to each other. It felt as though you were leaving something important behind, but he was right, you could see him anytime, after all he even said you were friends. But that was the issue. In your room, you flopped onto your bed staring at your ceiling.

You didn't want to be friends with him. 

You were in love with Kim Taehyung. 

The day of your final exhibition was here, and you stood in the classroom carefully arranging your sketches on your display. The class was set up in a museum style, allowing everyone to browse around and visit each other's works, you were even allowed to invite people from other classes. You smiled as some friends came over to see your work before you paused, hearing an all to familiar voice. 

“Jungkook bring them in here!”

Taehyung entered the room,  his gray sweater rolled up at the sleeves and a brown coat in his hands. A tall boy entered the room, carrying a large easel.

“Namjoon has the other prints, and Jimin and the others are on their way.” ‘Jungkook’ said, placing the large easel down with ease. 

‘So that’s Jungkook…’ you thought with a smile, watching the two interact like siblings. Your heart sped up as Taehyung caught your eye, saying something quickly to Jungkook and waving your way. Jungkook turned around as well, giving you a friendly nod. You waved back shyly before returning to arranging your sketches. 

Soon the class started, and the chatter and mingling began. A lot of people gave you praise for your work, loving the different poses and points you chose to work on. You smiled as you waved off their praise before a deep voice interrupted your conversations.

“You’re Y/n?”

You looked up, a taller individual looking at you. 

“Yeah I am? You are..?”

“Namjoon.” He smiled looking at your work. “You really drew a lot of great pictures of our Tae.” He said, your eyes widening at his compliment. 

“He was a great model, I’m really lucky he accepted my offer.” Namjoon nodded as he listened to you, “Have you gone to check his portfolio out yet?” he asked. You shook your head, confused. Namjoon smiled as he covered his mouth trying to hold back a laugh. “Well I think you should, he worked really hard and would appreciate your feedback.” You nodded, excusing yourself from the conversation to find Taehyung's table. His booth was laid out neatly, a single binder on the table. In elegant cursive the name of the portfolio was on the front of the book.

Winter Bear.

Turning the first page you smiled, it was indeed full of candid photos of his friends, all in places they seemed to love. Jungkooks photos were of him in nature and with other friends, Hoseoks was on the dance floor,  Jimins at the beach. You were filled with a sense of youth and nostalgia, your eyes watering at the blatant love Taehyung had for his friends. You bit back a smile at a conversation with him that rushed to your mind

 “What do you like to photograph the most then?” Taehyung thought for a moment as he helped clean up. “People probably. I like seeing what others can’t.” 

Turning the last few pages you realized there were a few extra photos at the end, and some of them struck a vaguely familiar. There was a figure sitting in a chair, a hand delicately reaching towards an easel, the face was focused on the art before them. You paused, staring closer at the work. Was that..you? You quickly looked at the other photos and indeed there was no denying it, the last individual in Taehyung's portfolio was you. There was the photo he took of you at the cafe as well as others you didn’t know of. Tons from you in your studio, some from your walks to the cafe, one from the hallway outside of the classroom. You couldn't help your eyes watering as you reached the final page, a simple quote written in the same cursive. 

 All the bad days

They’re nothing to me 

With you

-Taehyung

Quickly looking around you searched for his familiar head of hair. Namjoon seemed to notice you looking and you caught a discreet motion to the hallway outside of the class. Giving him a smile, you ran out of the room looking up and down the hall for Taehyung. 

‘Where could he be?’

You started to panic, unable to think of where he would go to before one idea came to mind. It was worth a shot. Quickly heading up the stairs, you ran to your studio, noticing the door slightly ajar. You paused in front of the door, out of breath, before softly sliding it open.

Taehyung was there. His back against the door, leaning against one of the tables in the room, his hand gently tracing over the easel you had used so many times before. 

“Taehyung…” You called, a look of shock on his face as he glanced up at you. 

“Y/n what are you doing here?” He asked, his brows furrowed in confusion. You made your way to him quickly, causing Taehyung to lean back against the table. 

“I saw your...portfolio.” You said out of breath, looking him in the eyes. He seemed to grow a bit shy as he glanced away from you. 

“I’m sorry that I didn’t tell you... I hope you’re okay with it it’s just..” He started but stopped, his voice growing soft as he fiddled with his fingers. You quickly reached out your own hand, taking his hand in yours. His eyes grew wide as he stared at you, “It’s just what Tae?” you pressed. 

He let out a shaky breath, “I never wanted to be just friends with you. You inspire me, you make me so happy Y/n but I just...I just didn’t know how to tell you.” He answered, squeezing your hand gently. He looked shocked as you sniffled, your eyes watering. 

“You really like me?” you asked.

Taehyung chuckled as he took his hands back, placing them on your cheeks to wipe your tears away. “Very much.” He whispered as he leaned in closer, placing his lips gently against yours. Your heart was beating so fast you thought it was going to explode as you placed your hands on his, your mouth moving against his. Pulling back you rested your foreheads against each other, basking in the silence of each other. He glanced at you before smiling, “But how did you know I was up here?” You sniffled before laughing as well, “I met Namjoon...he told me.” Taehyung let out a heartfelt laugh, making a mental note to thank him later. Pulling you into his chest, he wrapped his arms around you tightly, placing a kiss on your head. You nuzzled your head deeper into his chest as he smiled, closing his eyes. You two stayed together like this, the sunlight warming your bodies and the golden dust dancing around you two until you left the studio, hand in hand. The door shut gently, putting the room back into a state of slumber. 

You sleep so happily I wish you good night, good night, good night Good night, good night

[sugar-kisser]

You’re My Reason « Kang Yeosang (RW)

original warnings: none word count: 3210

You pull out your keycard to let you into the gated dorm community, and the gate automatically shuts behind you. You head towards your dormitory, the moon well into the sky. You pull out your phone to check the time- 11:23PM. It’s ridiculous that you’re getting back from a class this late, but can you blame astronomy? I mean you could of gone and taken geology or chemistry, but you fascination with the stars got the better hold of you when signing up for the spring semester classes a few months ago. Lucky for you this is the last time you’ll be arriving home so late since summer break is 2 weeks away. You just have to finish classes this week, take finals next week, and you’re home free for three months.

You walk into one of the nine dormitory buildings, smile at the two other students at the front desk before rounding the corner, and walk up three flights of stairs to get to the level your dorm room is on. You pass by the art studio but walk back to the door when you notice the lights inside are still on. You look through the windowed door to find five canvas’s surrounding a brown haired boy who is working away at each canvas at the same time. You break into a warm smile recognizing the artist painting the night away.

You open the door, lightly knocking on it twice getting the boy’s attention. He also instantly greets you with a warm smile.

“Yeosang, it’s late,” you laugh opening the door wider for you to stand in the doorway.

“I know,” Yeosang awkwardly laughs probably realizing how late it actually is since you’re back from your astronomy class, “but I need to finish this for the presentation tomorrow.”

“You still haven’t finished the final?” You gasp, eyes widening. Yeosang is one of the last students to ever do any of his work last minute, especially his art work. “We’ve had all semester to think and work on them.”

“I know,” Yeosang scratches the back of his head, “I had so many ideas but none of them felt good enough. But this is going to be it. I only really thought of the idea a few hours ago,” Yeosang sighs, “I’ll most likely be up all night doing it at this rate.”

“I’ve got faith in you,” you encourage him, “everything you do turns out good. Just don’t push yourself over the edge. You still also have until one in the afternoon to finish it as well.”

“It’s sweet that you care for me, Y/N,” Yeosang slightly blushes looking down at the floor, “I only hope you’re taking care of yourself as well.”

“I’m trying,” you answer him as you slightly nod your head, “I’ll leave you be now. Don’t stay up too late.”

“I’ll try not to,” Yeosang laughs looking back up at you one last time before you walk fully out of the room and the close closes behind you. You walk down the rest of the hallway to your dorm room and twist your key in the lock and push open the door. All the lights off indicates you’re roommate isn’t here and you quickly assume she’s spending the night at her boyfriends. You flip on a light and find a pink sticky note on the back of the door telling you exactly your thoughts. You toss your bag next to your desk and then change into a hoodie and sweats knowing you were going to turn down the temperature of your room as soon as you are ready to go to bed. You lose yourself in thought as you begin making yourself tea.

You met Yeosang at the beginning of the semester when you accidentally spilt paint all over his clothes when you bumped into him. The poor quiet boy was so embarrassed, and you felt so bad that you took his paint and quickly threw it on your clothes. He was then just petrified that you would go and embarrass yourself with him. But the two of you ended up laughing at how stupid you both looked. That’s how the two of you initially bonded, and then you began working at a station next to his in class and befriended him. Yeosang is extremely quiet which shocks everyone because you’re a loud happy person who can mingle with just about anyone. You found an anchor with Yeosang to keep you grounded, and to Yeosang you were a bright color of life brought into his greyscale. Polar opposites but you guys attract better than most, and the two of you trusted each other more than others you’ve known longer.

You look down at the two cups of tea you absentmindedly made since you and your roommate usual drink it before bed. You can’t find it in yourself to drink two mugs, but a lightbulb quickly pops into your head. You leave your mug on your desk and leave your room. You head back towards the art studio and knock on the door before entering.

“I thought you were going to bed?” Yeosang asks rather surprised to see you walking into the studio.

“I, uh, accidentally made two teas. My roommate is also not here. So I thought I’d bring it to you,” you explain holding out the mug for him to take. He accepts the mug and sets it on a stool next him after taking a small sip.

“It’s really good,” Yeosang compliments.

“Thank you,” you smiles brightly before standing on the tips of your toes to see over the large canvas’s, “so what are you painting?”

“Ah, ah, ah,” Yeosang taps your nose twice, “no spoilers. You have to be surprised tomorrow.”

“But you always show me your work,” You pout out your bottom lip hoping it would give him to cave in as it does on most things.

“Nope,” Yeosang smiles and shakes his head, “you have to wait.”

“Who knew you could be so cold?” You sarcastically and dramatically retort as you cast a hand over your heart.

“You haven’t even shown me your project!” Yeosang counters as he laughs at your dramatic scene play.

“Touché,” you smirk pointing at the boy only causing the two of you to break out into laugher, “well I’m off to bed. It’s been a long day. Don’t stay up too late.. Night Yeosang.” You brush your hair back before making your way to the door. You turn a wave one last time at the boy.

“Good night Y/N,” Yeosang waves back at you, smiling at he returns back to his paintings. You look away from him and exit the room, pulling the door to close behind you. You head back to your room and enter. You close your door and lock it. You move over to your desk and look over the five colors of tissue paper before picking up the yellow one. You carefully cut small pieces of the yellow thin paper and fold them all and glue pieces to other pieces to make a flower. You grab a green metal wire and wrap it around the bottom of the flower before going over to your master piece and adding it in. You smile at the almost complete project; you only have to add one more thing to it but you have to do it tomorrow. You eventually turn off you small ceiling light and curl up under your covers. You fall asleep quickly with only one thing on your mind- what could Yeosang be painting?

Yeosang wipes his forehead with the back of his head as he looks over the five different canvas’s. Each one covered with sloppy paint coats, strokes, and blotches,  but that’s his intention. Usually Yeosang likes to have organization and perfection to each of his paintings, pristine and clean pictures… but something prompted him to go outside his comfort zone. Through the mess of colors and random brush strokes and blotches, you can make out a face, and when you put the five canvas’s together they create a certain someone’s face.

Yeosang smiles in triumph. He picks up his smallest tipped brush, dipping it into a gold paint and signs his name in the corner of each canvas to claim his work. He picks up his phone and the home screen lights up- 6:49AM.

“Oh, Y/N’s going to be mad if she hears about this,” Yeosang slightly chuckles. He begins to clean up his mess he’s made while waiting for his canvas’s to finish drying. 

“It’s now or never,” Yeosang mumbles as he runs the paintbrushes under the water in the sink.

——

“Y/N! You’re up,” your professor calls you name. You pop your head up and look over at him. Had everyone already gone? You had asked to go later because Yeosang still hasn’t shown up to class and you wanted to wait for him to be here to present. You sigh and stand up. You pull a semi-large sculpture from the side of the room to the center front.

Two large lungs made from wire to look like a cages are almost the same height as you. You wanted to make it dramatic and swallowing in comparison next to you. In each of the lung pieces you have different colored and sized flowers that go from top to bottom. The lungs looked like their fully and ready to burst, they look suffocating. Just like how you are feeling all of a sudden.

“So what do we have here? Why did you chose this?” You professor looks up from his papers at you.

“Well, my project represen-“ You stop mid of you sentence when the door opens revealing a tired and stressed Yeosang hurrying in with five canvas’s under his arms.

“Mr. Kang, you are late and rudely interrupting Ms. Y/L/N,” you professor scolds. Yeosang quickly and quietly apologizes. You smile as he finally takes his seat next to yours and looks up at your project. He breaks into awe, impressed with your project. He only hopes he isn’t too late. His alarm hadn’t gone off when he needed to wake up for the class.

“I decided to base my project off of how I was doing this school year. Each flower represents a day. The left lung represents the first semester while the right lung represents this semester. Each color has a meaning. The blue represents worry, the red represents anxiety, the yellow represents over thinking, the orange represents stress, and the purple represents depression. Each day I decided how I was feeling the most and made the prettiest flower I could and placed it in the lung. The size represents how much it consumed my day. So the larger the flower, the more time I dealt with said thing,” you explain.

“So I notice that in the left lung there is a lot of large purple flowers, but in the second lung there are only very few little purple ones” you professor points out.

“That’s because I’ve found something that makes me happy,” you tell him, “it’s not easy to overcome depression. I still have it, but it’s not as overpowering as other things I deal with.” Your professor nods his head and jots down a few notes on to your grading rubric.

“One last question,” he starts, “did you add a flower today?” 

“I actually did,” you tell him, “this one is a little hidden, plus it’s really small.” You reach into the wires and pull out a small pure white flower.

“You didn’t mention what white represents,” you professor comments.

“I don’t need to,” you tell him, “everyone knows that white either represents hope or freedom… today it represents both.”

“Thank you Ms. Y/L/N,” you professor nods his head while jotting down his last couple notes, “you may sit down. Mr. Kang, you’re up.” You push your sculpture that hangs off a thin bar pole thats on a rolling platform off to the side where you originally brought it from. You and Yeosang essentially trade seats and he sets up his canvas’s carefully, hiding the overall piece from the class and professor. 

Yeosang looks over it once again to make sure it’s perfect before taking a deep breath. He carefully turns around the canvas’s all together on the stand they are on and your eye’s widen in shock. Through the mess of the painting is suppose to be, which surprises you more, you can easily make out your features. Yeosang painted you. You lean on the tall table in front of you and cover your mouth with your hand to hide you giant smile, but your rosy cheeks give you away.

“Why did you chose to do this as your project?” You professor asks, ready to jot down notes and grade Yeosang’s explanation.

“Well,” Yeosang starts before taking a deep breath. He looks over at you, and although he can’t see your smile he can see your eyes crinkled in the corners. “For the longest time I didn’t know what to paint. This is the first time, in a long time, that I’ve gotten an artist block. We are required to show our best work for this assignment, but I treat all of my assignments like that. I always want to present my best work.”

“So are you trying to tell me that this is equal to all your assignments?” The older man asks, eyes almost glaring over the rim of his glasses at Yeosang.

“No. I consider this one of my top pieces,” Yeosang answers directly, “I got my idea last minute, and I was a tad hesitant about it because I knew I would be stepping out of my comfort zone. I also would be doing something I haven’t done since I was a child… you know where you paint outside the lines, and it’s messy. But I took a leap of faith and decided to do it. I don’t always take a leap of faith. I’m scared that I’m not going to make it and slightly scared that I’ll be disappointed. Which has lead me to missing out on a bunch of things. But this semester that’s kind of changed. I’ve been doing things I wouldn’t normal go do, and I wanted to express that in my art.” 

“I’m glad you’ve decided to do something out of your comfort zone. It’s always good to explore everything you can as an artist to see things from new perspectives or even different angles,” you professor explains after jotting down his finally notes of Yeosang’s grading rubric, “with that, everyone’s grades will be updated and finalized tonight. I’m very impressed with everyone’s projects. Also thank you for having a great semester. I’ll hopefully see you guys around on campus if not in another class. You are dismissed.” Everyone immediately begins packing up their bags and grabbing their projects and heading out of the studio as quickly as they can, even the professor. You on the other hand take your time packing your bag and waiting for everyone to clear out so you can take your project back to your dorm without it potentially breaking. Yeosang also takes his time, knowing he’s in no big rush. 

“The painting was beautiful,” you tell Yeosang as you walk up to the front where he’s carefully laying each canvas on top of the other, “no one’s ever painted me before.”

“Thank you,” Yeosang quietly answers, his nerves suddenly building up. He’s still not ready to face you… to explain why he chose to paint you.

“Am I not something you’d normally do? The things I drag you to? Did you really not want to go to them?” You ask as you recall back on his explanation of his piece. Yeosang looks up at you in shock.

“Going out and being social and going new places and just doing things in general is something I don’t normally do,” Yeosang starts, “at first I didn’t want to go out. I wanted to stay in my dorm or in the art studio and just paint or sketch.” Yeosang takes a couple steps towards you and grabs both your hands with his. “But I look forward to everyday when you come tracking me down to go somewhere. I love spending time with you, whether it’s after class or a three am adventure. I wouldn’t change it for the world.”

“Really?” You ask, your voice low because of the built up of tears in your eyes and a small smile on your lips.

“I mean every word,” Yeosang answers as he takes one of his hands away from yours and pats your head, his hand slowly falling till it rests on the side of you face and you slightly lean into his touch.

“Yeosang,” you call quietly, “you know you’re the reason the purple flowers went away, right?” Yeosang peers down at you as he listens and he gently smiles hearing your confession. He moves his hand and cups your cheek, moving your hair aside. He quickly leans in and leaves a light kiss on your lips. Yeosang pulls away and breaks out into a cheesy little smile which causes you to do the same.

“How about I take you for an adventure?” Yeosang asks.

“Is it to our favorite coffee shop we head to every week after this class?” You ask, already knowing his answer.

“Wow, so smart,” Yeosang laughs, “but I promise when finals are over I’ll take you out.”

“Sounds perfect,” you smile. Yeosang grabs his bag as well as his five painting and you grab your sculpture and rolling it out of the room as Yeosang holds the door open.

“We should probably take these back to our dorms first,” Yeosang states as you finally get out of the classroom with your project.

“Sounds even better,” you laugh as you begin to push your project through the hallway, Yeosang directly by your side. The two of you manage to get to your dorms to drop off your project, but not without avoiding your roommate who gushes over the fact you two have finally realized your feelings and that she was soooooo tired of the two of you being oblivious to it. Yeosang takes your hand as the two of you walk back out into campus and head towards your favorite coffee shop which thankfully today isn’t completely full and the two of you plan to grab a table after ordering your drinks. The two of you wait quietly in line as you both figure out what you plan to order, but out of the blue Yeosang, who is still holding your hand, pulls it to his lips and kisses your knuckles. The action causes you to blush faintly but it doesn’t go unnoticed by Yeosang who lightly chuckles and teases you about it. But that doesn’t stop you from throwing him off guard and planting a small kiss to his cheek as he leans down just close enough for you to do it. It completely shuts him up and he blushes as well. You smile in triumph and feel that small little white flower from earlier bloom even bigger.

[amethystpath-writes]

For BTHB, could you do cold blooded torture for Leera and Rennera? I absolutely love them!!

Hiya! I'm so glad you love my characters! It really means a lot to me :) Thank you for the request!!

Leera/Rennera Request Fill (out of the timeline)

@badthingshappenbingo

Prompt: Cold-Blooded Torture

Fandom: Original Work

TWs: I think we can assume the lot of these given the prompt but----> torture, blood, restrained, captivity, whipped, scratched by nail, threats of worse treatment, blood, burned by hot metal (not branded), forced apology, mention of muscle damage

******

The queen's steps thudded against the floor like an unbearable drum. Only Leera's own harsh breathing could tune it out.

"Again," Rennera said and the assassin released a hearty cry as leather slapped against her back. Her elbows drove inwards, but to no avail could she stop the pain being caused. Her wrists were sore, tugging constantly, pathetically, at the chains bounding them.

Rennera tutted. "You would think that after all this time..." The queen stepped beside Leera's head, which was pressed firmly to the stone table she was restrained on. Rennera smiled at the sweat streaming from the assassin's hairline. "You would think," she repeated, and delicately dragged a nail down Leera's arm, causing a shudder, "you would just apologize."

An incoherent noise tumbled from the assassin's lips before Leera was able to mutter, "I have." Her voice was quiet, but gravely. Someone might have said her voice was tossed into a tumbler, then given back with missing slivers. Another symptom of brokenness, but the assassin would never accept that fact. She wasn't broken; she was still fighting. "I have apologized," Leera groaned again.

"And what has the problem been? What have I told you on every occasion?"

"It wasn't true."

"What wasn't?" The queen drew another line, this one less delicate than the first stroke, this one coming close to breaking the skin.

"The- the apology. It wasn't true." Leera grimaced at Rennera's nail touching her skin. She became very consciously aware of the scarred line on her face.

"And?" the queen asked.

"And if it's not true," she swallowed. "If it's not true then I'll- I'll never leave." But she had. Leera had escaped many times, only it never lasted. The assassin's face was posted everywhere, at all times. Paper over paper of her aging face was displayed on town square notice boards, on trees in every woods, even dyed on banners that hung from the palace itself. Leera was searched for even at times when the queen hadn't lost her.

A whine rose in the assassin's throat as she felt her skin split, felt a single bead of warm blood slide down the curve of her arm until it touched the table. "Good girl," the queen said in a high voice, as if she were speaking to a little girl. It was appropriate; Leera felt little. "Now, apologize again." Rennera stood, began walking circles around her revenge canvas once again.

"I-I can't. I can't. Please. Please, I can't do what you-"

"Again!" the queen yelled. At almost the same time, the man behind Leera cracked down on her back, earning a clipped scream from the assassin as her voice gave at the sudden outburst. "Apologize."

Leera couldn't speak and instead gagged on the pain streaking her back and shoulders.

The footsteps stopped once more. Rennera hummed. "Give me your dullest knife, servant." Leera could hear the torturer lay down his whip before shuffling through his various devices. "Yes, that one!"

The assassin's chest rose in quick gasps. It hurt too much for full breaths. It stretched the muscles too much. Leera felt she wasn't breathing enough, and a part of her thought not breathing at all would feel better. She needed a numb; she needed rest. Before she could close her eyes, something cold touched her back and she startled with a high-pitched scream. Leera swore she smelled metal, but is it the knife or my own blood? She physically shook away the thought, despite the miserable pain moving caused.

Queen Rennera sighed, twisting the knife in her hand, spinning the dull tip against an unscathed part of Leera's back. "I can't tell if I have actually broken you or if you are being stubborn as usual." The knife pressed harder, still twisting.

I'm not broken. I've never been and never will be. Not by you, or anyone. With those thoughts still came the inevitable, But I hurt. Gods, I hurt. I want to sleep. I want... Leera would run away soon. She would run again, even if it meant another night of furious torture. Leera just needed a break. When she was healed from this night, she would run again, she swore it.

With a newfound courage, Leera, still in immense pain from the whip, said, "You want," The assassin allowed herself one deep breath, face skewering as she focused on holding it in as her flesh tore with the action. When the burn subsided, she used that focused breath to finish saying, "You want something that I can't- I can't give y- agh!" The metal pushed against her spine, pinning her to a table she was already pinned on. Leera felt a block in her throat. It was out of place and her body wanted it out so it gagged again. Her stomach acted with the block, pushing an invisible barrier out. It churned and twisted along with the fires in her back. No matter how hard her body tried, Leera wasn't pushed to the point of throwing up yet.

"You need only apologize to him," the queen said, referring to the dead king as she always did. Her voice, though, was soft, falsely sympathetic. "And this will all be over, my dearest Leera." The assassin pushed her forehead harder onto the stone table, screaming at the top of her lungs with a plea as the queen pushed the dagger harder onto the spine, not enough to shatter it, but enough to send the nerves on a panicked spree. Rennera didn't even break the skin, hence a dull blade.

"I'm sorry!" Leera finally sputtered. "I'm sorry!" and her voice rose an octave. If she could have pounded a fist against the table, she would have.

"I would threaten to cut out your tongue if it meant you could speak without it," Rennera spat.

Click,click- clack. It was the knife, falling to the floor. Leera released a sigh of relief. Another warm tear followed the edge of her cheekbone.

The queen called her servant again, this time asking for a clamp.

"I'm sorry," Leera drawled with a whine. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry." She took shallow breaths again, listening as the queen neared once more. "And I mean it," she said truthfully. "I do. I'm sorry, my queen, for everything. I'm sorry." I'm not broken, but I'm in pain. I must stop this pain. She didn't lie. Leera felt badly for killing the king, but she felt no pity for him. It was the queen she felt badly for. Unfortunately, that wasn't what the queen wanted, and that's why Leera put off her apologies for as long as possible. Not saying one at all was better than giving one to the queen, who didn't want it for herself.

"Start me a fire." The assassin screamed her apologies louder, nearly losing her voice.

Each 'sorry' only earned her another punishment, for the queen was sick of being apologized to. Leera should be apologizing to the man she killed. Why didn't the assassin feel as bad as Rennera for the king's death? Why didn't she feel just as guilty? One day, the queen thought, one day she'll understand the pain she caused in her reputation if she only experiences it herself.

Red hot, the spiked clamp was brought back by the servant. Rennera urged him to hand her the device faster and the moment he did, she situated her fingers in the handles, before opening the closed tips and pressing it against the skin of the assassin's left arm. As Leera screamed, the queen said, perhaps not loudly enough to affect the assassin further, "Don't worry, dearest. I won't damage the muscles too awfully."