#this shy boy that always tries hi best to push forward and succeed

[wallysbestie]

“I’ll sing a song to break the ice, just a smile from you would suffice. It’s not me but this is real tonight cause I’ve been thinking ‘bout you lately.” -We Could Happen by AJ Rafael

Feel free to request a moodboard here! Requests are always open.

[blu-joons]

DATING STRAY KIDS A⇴Z HEADCANON ⇴ Lee Minho

A ⇴ AFFECTION

After a long day, Minho can be very affectionate with you. He tends to keep his affection private when no one else is looking just so the two of you can enjoy each other’s company. If you need affection, he’ll be more than willing to give it to you.

B ⇴ BEFORE DATING

The boys could tell he was into you straight away as he became incredibly shy. He was never the loudest in the room when it came to his members, but when his eyes fell on you for the first time at the studio, he was desperately trying to come up with a way that he could head over and approach you, without the members getting involved.

C ⇴ CONFESSION

The only person he spoke to before confessing to you was Chan, as he knew he’d be the most supportive. He relied on his smile more than anything else to try and impress you, he wanted everything to go perfectly. When he approached you, you could tell straight away how shy he was, happily listening to him ask you out on a date before accepting. His cheeks turned a light shade of red as soon as you accepted, looking around for Chan.

D ⇴ DATES

He was surprisingly meticulous when it came to your dates, something no one ever expected from him. When it came to his relationship, he wanted everything to be perfect, because nothing mattered more. He tended to choose active dates for the two of you, but when it came to a special date in your relationship, he’d make sure to take you to a nice dinner or plan a romantic evening for the two of you. Most nights he just liked to settle down with you in front of a film or something just so he could be around you.

E ⇴ EXPERIENCE

He’d never been in a relationship before he met you, he was far too shy to ever really be able to approach a girl. He definitely was cheeky, but around you especially he lost all of that behaviour with his blushed cheeks. Having focussed for so many years on his dance and Stray Kids, he struggled to begin with when it came to adapting to a relationship, but with your help he soon found the perfect way to make sure both parts of his life were fulfilled without a single problem.

F ⇴ FIGHTING

It takes a lot to wind Minho up to a point where a fight occurs, he’s surprisingly sensitive and hates to know he’s upset you. He might give off the impression that he can be quite cold, but don’t be deceived, his delicate heart hates confrontation. He’s been through enough upset in his life to let little things get to him, more so with you. If the two of you do argue, he never lets it escalate too far, he’ll sit down like an adult and talk with you rather than raise his voice, he’s a lot more logical than he’s given credit for.

G ⇴ GETTING TO KNOW HIS FAMILY

Being an only child, you knew his parents were bound to be protective of him which added the pressure onto your shoulders. Luckily for you, they were very trusting in Minho’s judgement, and if he liked you enough to introduce you to his family, then they’d like you too, so long as he was happy, so were they.

H ⇴ HOME

Most of the time the two of you tended to do your own thing at the dorm, but that didn’t stop him wanting to think about your own place too. He missed the privacy of having somewhere just for the two of you as he knew what his members were like, walking in uninvited most of the time, which he didn’t think was fair.

I ⇴ “I LOVE YOU”

He was the first one to say, ‘I love you,’ one night after the two of you had settled in front of a film. The room was silent, and the two of you were laid side by side as he leant forwards and whispered into your ear. As soon as he’d said his cheeks turned a dark shade of red, hiding himself away from you. You couldn’t help but smile at how coy he was, wrapping your arms tightly around him.

J ⇴ JEALOUSY

Minho was one of the quieter characters in the room most of the time, especially around members like Han, so he tended to not have your full attention. He hated to describe himself as jealous, but he didn’t like when your attention wasn’t fully on him. It was one of the other reasons why he tended to prefer that the two of you did your own thing at the dorm. As much as he liked to see how well you got on with those who were close to him, he knew there was a boundary that his feelings would push to, and he hated to see you pass it.

K ⇴ KIDS

The both of you were very aware that children were a long way off for you both, but that didn’t stop the two of you beginning to think about the future. For the first time his focus wasn’t entirely on the group, now he had someone else to take into consideration. He’d always had hopes about having a family in the future, but for the first time he really felt like he’d found someone he could share those aspirations with.

L ⇴ LAUGHTER

His cheekiness and sarcasm always brought a smile to your face, his off the cusp remarks always took you by surprise in the best possible way. He’d spend most of his day making sure that you had a smile on your face, and if you didn’t, he wouldn’t stop cracking jokes until you did. You loved sitting back and watching him wind his members up, especially Seungmin, which would only encourage him to do it more, at the expense of everyone else. Nothing could brighten up his day more than the sound of your laughter.

M ⇴ MISSING

Whilst he wasn’t entirely dependent on you, he definitely hated times when he was away from you. Tour was always the hardest part of your relationship, he’d never really had that person that he yearned for before when he was away, until he met you. The boys would often rally around him whenever he went quiet as they knew he was beginning to think about you. He’d rely a lot on talking to you every night to get him through the time away from you, but no matter how hard you both tried it was never the same as actually being able to see you.

N ⇴ NICKNAMES

He’s very private again with your nicknames as he is with your affection, Minho never really settled on anything for you, it varies always, ‘love,’ ‘jagi,’ ‘sweet,’ you can never predict what nickname he’s going to choose for you.

O ⇴ OBSESSION

Minho is obsessed with your smile, it’s his favourite part about you. He’s main job as a boyfriend is to make you happy in life, so if he succeeds there, then he knows he’s doing a good job. It’s all he wants from the world.

P ⇴ PDA

Again, he’s very private around people who know him, the most you’ll get out of him is maybe a quick hug or a hold of his hand. You knew PDA was something that he was uncertain about, so even just the smallest of gestures from him meant a lot to you, never would you pressure him into doing anything he didn’t want to do.

Q ⇴ QUESTIONS

You can always rely on Minho to ask if you’re alright. He’s very attentive and caring, whenever he meets your gaze or sees you for the first time in a while he’ll be sure to check up on your mood.

R ⇴ RANDOM FACT

When he had time to himself, Minho loved to dance, and when he did have those moments, he loved to come up for little routines to perform for you. No one else would ever get to see them they’d only be for you. He’d come home with a huge smile on his face and show you the little routines you’d come up with. You loved to watch him dance, so you’d never complain, especially when it was dedicated to you.

S ⇴ SEX

He’ll always do his best to look after you during intimate moments, he’s very careful and caring during every moment. He’s not the most dominate person, so the two of you tend to switch roles quite frequently depending on your moods. He’s very affectionate during those private moments, making up for all the times he often feels like he neglects you in public.

T ⇴ TEXTS

You can usually expect texts from Minho at random parts of the day, he’ll always want to just check up on you and see how your day is going. Or if he’s going to be late, he’ll always be sure to let you know with a text.

U ⇴ UNIVERSE

He was well known for being quite private a lot of things, but never around you. He’d never been open with anyone like he was with you, he knew he could talk to you about everything and anything and you’d always be there for him.

V ⇴ VACATION

The two of you going on holiday was a very rare occasion, but when you did, Minho would work hard to make it a special occasion. He’d pull out all of the stops to make sure that the two of you could relax and just enjoy being around each other. His favourite holidays were the ones where the two of you did absolutely nothing, and just relaxed.

W ⇴ WHINING

If he didn’t get his own way, he would be more than happy to let you know that he wasn’t impressed until you gave him what he wanted.

X ⇴ XXXXX

He was always very loving with the kisses he gave you, each one always meant something, he’d never kiss you without reason. First in the morning he’d always greet you with a kiss, and whenever the two of you got a few moments to yourself he’d do exactly the same. He’d always hold you close when he kisses you, he likes for there to be little distance between you both so that he can have you tucked into his chest where you belong.

Y ⇴ YOU

You were his favourite person in the whole wide world, no one else even came close.

Z ⇴ ZZZ

Minho tended to fall asleep with you close to him, pulling you tightly into his chest. He much preferred to be the bigger spoon, but if he’d had a bad day or craved some attention, he’d be known to curl into your side too.

---

Masterlist

[come-on-shitty-boys]

//accidental irritations. akasshi keiji//

Request: hello!! Can I request what a first fight would be like with akaashi? From angst to fluff Bc my heart,,,, 😔🤚

Warnings: swearing

Word Count: 1.9K

Notes: someone put this baby to sleep please ;-;

You weren’t sure why you were surprised.  You knew your boyfriend well enough to know that this was something he would do.  He worked hard, you knew that.  He was ambitious and you knew that too.  He had a bad habit of not knowing when to stop, so the general negative aura that surrounded the setter should’ve been your sign that he was overworking himself again.  

Akaashi did this every now and then, especially around finals time.  He would stay up for hours, scanning his textbooks for anything that he might have missed that could possibly be on the test, copying his notes all over again into a separate notebook (he always that the repetition helped him, you just thought it was extra), flipping through stacks and stacks of flashcards until he got them all right.  He’d average around three hours of sleep a night unless someone physically made him go to bed and even then he would find himself tossing and turning for hours on end, unable to find the confines of sleep.  

But, seeing you boyfriend just, sort of, crumple onto the gym floor?  Well, it was not at all what you were expecting from your calm Thursday afternoon.  A stunned silence had fallen over the gym, everyone in complete shock that their composed setter just went down as easily as a sandcastle being washed away by incoming waves.  And when Akaashi didn’t move for a few seconds?  That’s when the mutual panic set in.  Sneakers all running over, frantic questions being shouted from the members.  “What happened?” “Did he hit his head?” “Should we call an ambulance?”  “Is he breathing?”  “Where’s Coach?”

You pushed your way through the group of boys, kneeling down next to Keiji’s body.  You would’ve loved to have been more help, but the worry took over you and all you could remember from your first aid training was how to properly apply gauze.  There was a cool rag pushed into your hands by one of the other managers to be applied to his forehead.  

“Keiji,” you say, tapping his cheek with your finger.  No response.  You can feel your heart pounding in your chest, the desperation rising in your throat as you repeat his name.  “Keiji!”

His face contorts into discomfort, eyelids stuttering as his eyes shift beneath them.  Slowly, his lids start to open and he’s squinting into the bright overhead lights of the gymnasium.  Akaashi pushes himself into a sitting position, taking the cloth from his head, Konoha’s hand on his bicep in an attempt to keep the setter steady.  It takes a minute before he even says anything, just taking in the distressed expressions that formed a circle around him.  “I’m fine.”

“Dude, you’re really not.”

“Yeah.  Fine people don’t just pass out.”

“Akaashi, you should probably go home.”

There was a pounding in Akaashi’s temple, only further worsened by loud echoing concerns of his teammates.  He leans forward, his palm rubbing small circles into his forehead to try to alleviate the feeling.  Your hand is on his back and Keiji can’t help but to relax under the tenderness of your touch.  He felt like shit, truly.  His whole body hurt and this creeping wave of nausea kept climbing into the pit of his stomach.  No matter how many times he tried, he couldn’t get the world to stop spinning around him.  So, when he felt you scoot up beside him, he immediately took the opportunity to lean his body against you, breathing deeply as he tried to ground himself again.  

Your hand snaked up to his hair, tangling your fingers into the soft curls.  “Keiji?” You ask gently.  There’s a soft hum in response to signal to you that he’s listening.  “I think we should get you home, okay?”

But, he just shakes his head, uttering again that he’s fine.  That he just lost his balance and tripped as if he was blatantly unaware that he had lost consciousness.  

There’s a cumulative sigh.  Everyone was expecting this response, but it’s only when Bokuto squats down in front of him that Akaashi’s eyes move from where they had been trained on the ground.  “I know you want to stay, but, come on, man.  We all just watched you go down and it freaked us all out.  You’re obviously not feeling good, so you’re either sitting on the bench the rest of practice or you’re going home,” the captain states, an overwhelming sense of concern lacing between his words.  

Akaashi wasn’t happy about it, but he let you call his mom to explain the situation, asking if she could pick him up early.  There wasn’t much of another option, really.  What was the point in staying if he was just going to have to sit out?  He already hated that the team was forcing him to sit on the bench while you went to get his stuff out of the club room.  He was fine.  He could get his own bag, but despite all of his objections, you were passed the keys to collect his things.  Akaashi felt like such a child.  Everyone looked at him like he was some fragile doll that would combust any second.  He couldn’t help but roll his eyes at how out of proportion this whole situation had gotten.  It wasn’t anything serious, yet he was being treated like a baby.

But, when it was finally time for him to go, rather than just accepting your hug and small peck of goodbye, he laced his fingers with yours, a small plea buried somewhere behind dark irises.  Okay, so maybe he wasn’t being as tough about this whole thing as he would have liked, but he was just desperate to be comforted in the confines of his own bed rather than in the middle of the humid gymnasium.

But, you just kept nagging him.

You kept trying to weasel it out of him, the explanation as to why this happened in the first place.  You had felt his forehead.  He didn’t have a fever.  It wasn’t that hot, so he couldn’t have overheated.  It didn’t make any sense for him to just collapse out of nowhere like that.  But, no matter how many times you would ask, he would respond with a simple, “I’m fine” annoyance creeping into the edge of his voice with each reassurance.

You should’ve expected the snap, really.  He had been irritable most of the day and the incident in the gym only worsened his mood, but Keiji had never been one to raise his voice, especially not at you.  So, when the raven-haired setter released a loud groan, hands rubbing his face, frustration echoing in his eyes, that should’ve been your sign to stop talking, just let the subject drop, maybe come back to it when he was feeling better.  But, you didn’t.  You just kept pushing and it’s not like you wanted to piss him off; you were worried.  Seeing him just fall to the floor so easily without any warning had scared the shit out of you.

“Have you been eating well lately?  Maybe your blood sugar dropped and that’s why you passed out,” you say as you sit across from him on his bed. 

“Please, for the love of God, stop.  I have told you at least twenty times already that I’m fine!  Stop asking!”

“Keiji, perfectly healthy people don’t just pass out!  I just want-”

“If I knew what happened, I would tell you, but I don’t!  I don’t know why I fainted.  I barely remember doing it, so please, get off my back!  You’ve been nagging the shit out of me ever since we got here.  If I knew that you were going to be like this, I would’ve just let you stay at practice!  I don’t feel well and I just wanted to be able to lay down, but I can’t do that because you’re being obnoxious!” 

There was a deep scowl in his brows that you didn’t see from him often.  It usually appeared when he was deep in focus, but here it was, directed towards you.  It took you aback, the sharp bite of his words.  “Keiji, I-”

“No!  I’m not going to deal with this right now!  I’m tired, Maddi!  I don’t want to deal with you right now!”

The flash of hurt across your face brought Akaashi back to reality and out of whatever hellscape his head had been in.  You didn’t cry or make any outward sign of being upset, but he knew you by now.  He knew that the minute your eyes went to the ground, there was something wrong.  You had folded your hands in your lap and he was sure that if he looked away, you would begin shrinking.  

“Maddi, wait.  I- I didn’t- Hang on,” he stumbles, scooting closer to you in an attempt to comfort you by pulling you into his chest, but rather, you simply shy away from his touch.  Akaashi pulls his hand back, looking away, swallowing the heavy lump in his throat.  “I’m sorry.”

“I’m just- I’m worried, Keiji.  I was scared and I didn’t know what the hell was wrong so I didn’t know what to do.  I’m sorry that I annoyed you, but please, I just want to know what’s going on,” you mutter, barely meeting his gaze.  

He nods solemnly and there’s a heavy sigh that leaves his mouth.  “I think I just didn’t get enough sleep.  I’ve been trying to study for finals and, I guess- I don’t know.  I guess that I just, sort of, tried to do too much.”

A small gasp of surprise escapes his lips as he’s tugged into your arms, letting him rest his head against your chest, but he’s quick to melt into your embrace, taking comfort in the feeling of your fingers running softly through his hair.  “You need to take care of yourself, Keij.  I know that you want to succeed and do your best, but your health is more important than a grade,” you whisper.

You can feel him not against you.  “I know, and I don’t mean to.  I just- It just happens.”  He wraps his arms tightly around your waist, pulling you back so that you’re laying down against the mattress with him.  Within a matter of seconds, he’s tucked into your side, seeking the comfort of your body against him.  “I’m sorry for scaring you and the others.  It kind of freaked me out too.  I think that’s why I got so mad, because I didn’t really know exactly what was going on either.  So, I’m sorry that I snapped at you, really.”

“It’s okay, Keiji.  I’m sorry too.  I shouldn’t have kept pushing you.  I’m just really glad that you’re okay,” you say, softly brushing the curls from his eyes, a small smile on your face.

“I love you, you know?”

“I know.”  There’s a soft shine in your eyes and you lean down to place a short kiss to his lips.  “I love you too, Keiji.  More than you know.”

[aki-draws-things]

NaNoWriMo 2020 #09

That fic should have some warning tags for implied rape and abuse, (and i’ve tagged it.) but rest assured i didn’t described a single thing. I don’t write smut so I’ll just limit myself to let it be implied it happened.

As the other chapters too, characters are most definitely OOC. I won’t use the Nano challenge to make a study on them and figure out their voices, I just let the stories come out, I still wish to apologize for that. I’m still trying my best to make those fics nice and entraining enough.

(Next three days will be connected and finally angst will punch us straight in the face! :D Is someone ready as I am?)

Day: 09/11/2020

Prompt: dirty secret

Ship: None official

Word Count: 2192

"Shi-ge!" if anyone would connect the excited voice to the one and only uptight Jin ZiXuan, that wouldn't be the Jiang siblings. None of them, even though Jiang YanLi always said that there was more than a stern look underneath, but it was her heart speaking, her brothers were sure of that. They turned in time to see Nie HuaiSang and Jin ZiXuan colliding against a taller man who easily grabbed them before they could risk tumbling over. That was a weird sight, mad weirder by the knowledge that nothing strange went around cloud recesses to make them act like that. Well, perhaps nie HuaiSang had a valid reason to behave like that, they found out a little later, the man was, in fact, his older brother, leader of the Nie sect. Yes, huaisang could act like that and throw himself at him. But the Jin peacock? 

When he was little, Jin ZiXuan, knew nothing about hate. Many people seemed to despise and hate his father and he couldn't figure out the reason not even . if he tried. Maybe he wasn't the most open and affectionate man, maybe he didn't spend much time with his family as other fathers did, but that wasn't enough to hate him. 

Then one day two boys were taken in Jinlintai, dressed in a dusty dark gray robe the older and a cream one the younger who looked roughly his age, his father said they would now live there and Zixuan nodded eagerly. He would finally have someone to play with that wasn't his annoying cousin. But why did  the two boys look so sad? Didn't they like the palace? Or their rooms? Or the new, better clothes? Jin zixuan was confused. 

The older one locked in his room for hours, studying dutifully. Or he went to the training ground among the older Jin disciples, with a sword much bigger than theirs, and trained until the sun set and the younger one left their plays to run fetch him and drag him back to his room. Back and forth. Every day. 

He scowled and snarled angrily at his father for reasons Jin zixuan didn't understand. Maybe their parents never taught them to be polite? But he was so kind and caring with his little brother. 

"A-die and A-niang are gone." the younger, Huaisang, explained to him once. 

"gone? Gone where? Are they coming back?" 

Huaisang scrolled his shoulders. 

"I don't know. Da-ge always says gone." 

It would take a couple more years for him to understand what gone meant. His lips trembled as he tried not to cry. 

"why are you crying?" the older, mingjue, asked. "it's not your family to be dead." 

"but it's sad, shi-ge…" he bawled softly against his chest. Huaisang crawled on him and hid his face against the neck over the golden robes. "I don't like shi-ge and shidi sad." Huaisang started crying too and soon enough nie mingjue found himself having to pick both of them in his arms and go back to the palace.

"then stop crying, silly boy." 

One thing Jin guangshan didn't know the day he gladly took the two nie boys in his sect was the truth about the older one. He didn't complain when the Nie sect elders came to him and asked for his protection after their master died too early, on the contrary. Having some sort of power over Qinghe would make him greater, even  almost compared to the wen sect now. He was surprised the older son of the Nie leader didn't take over his sect. He was Sixteen, old enough to lead them. Or so the world thought. The elders gave him vague answers, how nie mingjue while having a high cultivation was unfit to lead them, really, Jin guangshan never complained. He couldn't see the unfitting things they supposedly talked about but it was fine for him. He had power, he was in control of one of the main sects and he only had to thank wen ruohan for that. In the public eyes he was going to teach nie mingjue and raise him to become one day the great leader he was. In truth he meant to keep his grasp on Qinghe for as long as possible and there was an easy way to ensure that.

A child. 

It had been two years since the Nie brothers came to Lanling and jin guangshan secretly took great pride and pleasure in having unfold one of the greatest secrets the Nies were keeping. The younger one, with his poor cultivation and his innocent mind, with his liking for pretty songbirds and for arts was in fact, a young girl. 

Still too young, he reminded himself, but in a couple of years she would be old enough to bear his children and at that point her brother could do nothing but leave the power to him if he didn't want all the affair to be exposed. 

Yes, Jin guangshan prided himself in his knowledge. 

But when he went to inform nie mingjue of said knowledge and his plans he almost didn't believe his eyes. 

He almost lost his eyes to a double hairpin. 

It took him a couple of minutes to realize he had been wrong, that explained even better the reasons nie mingjue didn't take his clan in hand. He couldn't. The Nie sect, just as most of the main sects, had always been led by men. Lan Yi tried once, but never succeeded. Leading wasn't a woman's duty after all. They were weak. Unfit. 

"get out before I carve your eyes out." he, she, threatened him, chest now covered with a loose robe and fresh clean bandages scattered over the bed. Jin guangshan should have been afraid, he knew the strength nie mingjue had all too well, he saw him her defeat his best disciples in training, even the older ones. And look at that. She was a girl. 

Jin guangshan barely remembered nie MingJue's mother, she was undoubtedly strong, and her eyes had a gold hue when she was angry. Mingjue probably took her high cultivation from her. Still, unfit to leadership. 

"You won't." he simply said. Closed the door behind himself and took a step closer looking closer at the body before him. She was pretty, after all. Perhaps with the right kind of clothing it would be easy to hide the larger shoulders, a different hairstyle would make her look more feminine, even eligible for marriage. 

His plansw changed. 

"I was wrong." he admitted, a hand reaching to take a strand of hair. Nie mingjue stepped back. "you know, I thought little huaisang was the girl, I would have never imagined. But now that I know I notice all the little things. It's quite obvious." 

"no it's not." nie mingjue growled. “There’s nothing obvious because you don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Defensive, Jin GuangShan thought. Desperate to keep herself safe. She wouldn’t be easy to tame, too wild, just as most Nies, but the reward would be even greater if, when, he would succeed.

“Oh, but I’m not here to judge you, Miss Nie. - Nie MingJue sprinted forward, he pushed Jun GuangShan against the wall hand held a hairpin between his eyes, definitely not afraid to use it. He remained calm. - I can understand why you never mentioned it. You, a woman, unable to lead your clan at your father’s too early death. Your brother, still too little, his cultivation too poor. The Nie Sect is destined to fall.”

Nie MingJue wasn't to speak back, to say once more he was a man, no matter what his body would say, he had always been a man ever since he had memory, and as such both his parents and HuaiSang's mother raised him. As the one he truly was.

“Sometimes the reincarnation cycle get messed up a little. Sometimes the heavens like to test our strength in order to make us stronger.”

“Why do they like it? It’s not fun! It’s painful.” Nie MingJue complained.

“Because they have yet to learn, - His father said fastening a braid on his head. - That us humans will find a way to defy them. There’s nothing wrong in the way you are or you feel.”

“It’s unbalanced.”

“And then you find your own way to balance it. Show them not to mess up with us Nies.” Yue HuangShui laughed and Nie MingJue followed their worlds ever since.

“But I have a way to prevent it.” Jin GuangShan’s voice brought him back to reality. There was something in his look that MingJue didn’t like, something that screamed at him bot to trust him.

“What?” His voice came out strangled and almost shy, he shuddered as the Jin Leader moved closer, his hand opening the robe just enough to expose his skin.

“A rightful heir.”

Nie MingJue always cried more than his little brother Huaisang, that was common knowledge for most people who knew them. He did his best to look stern when outside in public, he took every hit and every hint and let them build up inside of him only to explode when he was finally alone.

“Rightful my ass.” He muttered in anger and frustration some months later when he found his usual robe was too tight and uncomfortable and he settled for something loose.

“If he dares to set foot in the Unclean Realms I’m going to throw him down the walls.” He threw a warmer robe over his shaking shoulders, as he emptied a bowl outside. His qi rattled along with his anger and he ended up feeling sick once more.

Maybe in that way he would get rid of — No.

He fell on his knees, hands pressed over his mouth in shock. How could he even think that? What kind of monster would ever think that.tears fell and he curled up on himself.

“Shi-ge, do you still feel sick? Do I have to call a healer?” He yelled at Jin ZiXuan too Levi him alone.

“Da-ge you need to eat something.” Nie Huaisang put his head inside the room and looked at where his brother was curled on the floor. “I have soup.”

“And fruit.” ZiXuan chimed in, a plate held carefully on a tray next to a steaming bowl. “I’ve asked A-Fu to cut some bunnies in the apples!”

“I’m not hungry.” They left the tray inside the room and with a look at each other they left.

“Shi-ge…” Jin ZiXuan called sleepily. “Jue-gege…” He poked at his cheek until he finally woke up to find the young Jin heir with a consumed candle and a blanket standing next to his bed, Huaisang sleeping soundly on his own bed against the wall.

“What A-Xuan?” He yawned and the boy climbed on the bed next to him holding the blanket at his chest.

“Do you like A-Xuan?” Nie MingJue nodded, not in the right mood for that kind of conversation, and neither was ZiXuan, both too sleepy for that.

“Will you like Meimei too?”

“How can you say it will be a little girl?” He asked, voice softening as ZiXuan bended over and curled over his chest and stomach.

“No stealing Da-ge…” Huaisang slurred climbing on the now crowded bed and fast falling back asleep.

“I’d like a little sister. - He revealed closing his eyes. - but a little brother would be nice too. A-Xuan will like him anyway. A lot lot.”

When the time came Nie MingJue almost refused to look at the little things crying at the top of her lungs. He managed to ignore her for three whole minutes before feeling his chest tight at her cries and gathering her in his arms where she settled comfortably.

“She’s so pretty.” Jin ZiXuan nodded in agreement with huaisang, his finger held in her tiny hand without the intention of letting go. She was going to be a Nie, MingJue said. She would never be a Jin, she wouldn’t grow up in Lanling but in Qinghe, she would never be one of the many bastards and, even more importantly, she would never be recognized as Jin GuangShan’s daughter.

“But she’s still your Meimei.” He assured to a mildly worried ZiXuan who, in answer, hugged her little arm and brushed his cheek against her head like HuaiSang always used to do in affection.

A young girl in dark gray robes ran from behind Nie MingJue and threw herself at Jin ZiXuan who promptly caught her.

“Da-ge! I want to show you something when you come to Qinghe!” She exclaimed excitedly before throwing herself in the same fashion at Nie huaisang who, while trying to catch her, tumbled on the grass with her arms secured around his neck.

“I’ve heard some things from Huaisang during this past months.” Jin ZiXuan said, his voice vague. “About a proper Master Nie who tamed the great beast of the mountains.” Nie MingJue barely hid a smile gathering the little girl on his arm and dragging HuaiSang back on his feet.

“Can we expect a new little brother?”

[ericsonclan]

A Day Away From the Sea

Summary: The Ericson Pirates finally reach a port town again giving them a break from the open seas.

Read on A03:

It had been weeks since their last stop at a port town, so as soon as the ship was docked most of the crew was already making their way into town. Prisha had grabbed Violet’s hand, whispering something about how it was finally nice to be on land again before disappearing into the marketplace. Ruby and Aasim offered to do the supply run for the day and after double checking to make sure they had everything they needed along with enough money they headed out.

“We can stay with ship.” Clementine offered, gesturing to her and Louis, her eyes looking at the remaining crew. It was clear that everyone wanted - no - needed a break from the ship.

“You sure?” Marlon looked over his shoulder as he tried to slow down the boys who were already pulling on his arms, begging for him to hurry up.

“Yeah. You guys should go into town and have some fun.” Louis smiled at Clementine. She returned his smile.

“Alright.” Omar mumbled, reluctantly getting pushed by Willy and AJ. “We’ll see you later then.”

Mitch looked over and paused when he saw that Brody hadn’t moved yet. “Hey, Brody! You wanna go into town with us? It’s gonna be a kickass time!”

“No, I’m okay. I’m just going to stay behind on the ship.” She replied before going back to her book.

“Alright, suit yourself! Let’s go, guys!” Mitch exclaimed as the group scrambled off the ship together, pulling Omar along with them.

Brody let out a sigh as she kept reading until the sound of giggles coming from the crow’s nest drew her attention. Her eyes widened in shock. How did they get up there so fast? As the giggles continued Brody decided that it would be better if she wasn’t there. Quickly slamming her book closed, she sprinted after the boys. “Hey guys, wait up!”

Prisha and Violet walked into the town square side by side while they talked about this and that. Violet looked at Prisha’s smile as she talked; it was really great to be back on land together. The ship was nice and all, but after being stuck on it for a couple weeks it felt amazing to just spend time alone with her, walking down a street side by side without a care in the world.

“So I figured the best way we can improve-” Prisha suddenly stopped mid-sentence as she looked at a nearby stand. “I’ll be right back.” she whispered before running forward towards a small stand.

Violet looked on with confusion as she watched her talk with the seller before returning back. Her hand was hidden behind her back. “So what did you get?”

“Well, I saw this flower,” Prisha’s hand came from behind her back, revealing a small light blue flower. “And I wanted to get it for you.” Prisha’s hand brushed back Violet’s hair, gently placing the flower by her ear. Violet felt her face grow warm when she looked at Prisha who smiled at her with such a loving gaze. Violet’s hand reached up to touch the flower in her hair.

“Thank you.”

“Do you like it?”

“Yeah. I really do.” A warm light seemed to dance in Violet’s eyes. The two smiled at each other before Violet reached out, her hand intertwining with Prisha’s. The couple continued their stroll through the market square. When they had reached the center of the square, Violet noticed another flower stall. This one had a multitude of different flowers. She glanced over at Prisha who had gotten distracted by another stall that seemed to be selling different trinkets that shone in the sunlight. This is my chance. Violet silently made her way over to the flower stall, returning after a couple minutes to Prisha with arms full of flowers.

Prisha looked shocked when she turned around to see Violet standing with all the flowers.

“Your hair would look beautiful with flowers too. So… I thought maybe I could help you put them in your braid.” Violet awkwardly rubbed the side of her arm, causing a few petals to fall off from the array of flowers in her arms.

“I would love that.” Prisha said with a warm smile.

The two searched around the area for a few minutes before finding a place to sit down. Violet slowly began to place the flowers in Prisha’s braid, cursing silently here and there whenever her fingers slipped up. After a few minutes it was done.

Prisha stood up to display her flower-adorned braid, spinning around slowly on her feet as her braid swayed behind her. “So, how is it?” She stopped to show off her braid.

“It’s beautiful.” Violet whispered with a shy smile on her face.

Prisha’s eyes lit up at her girlfriend’s compliment when the sound of music drew her attention. Around the center of the square, people had begun to gather, their feet kicking around as a dance started to the tune of lively music.

“Come on,” Prisha leaned over and grabbed Violet’s hand. Violet seemed a bit unsure at first but when she saw how excited Prisha was, she couldn’t help but feel the same.

----

“Alright, so we should get some more thread.” Aasim instructed, his attention focused on the list in his hand.

“I bet there’s some in that shop,” Ruby pointed towards a small store.

“We should head there first then.” Aasim placed away the list while he walked with Ruby, their hands interlocked.

Ruby looked at him and smiled. “It’s really nice to be spending some time together in town.”

“Yeah, it's always nice to see a new port town. We should go for a walk tomorrow and see all that it has to offer.” His eyes were pulled away from Ruby when he noticed something. “Oh! We need more of those too. I’ll be right back, my treasure.” He leaned forward, kissing her cheek before sprinting off. Aasim shortly returned, quickly intertwining his fingers with Ruby’s before entering the shop.

It took a few hours to get all the supplies that they needed. After spending a few weeks on the ship it was no surprise that they needed to resupply, especially with this crew. They always seemed to be getting into trouble even when they had the most well-meant intentions. Ruby and Aasim didn’t seem to mind the long shopping trip though as they slowly made from location to location. They appreciated every second that they got to spend together, simply enjoying each other's company. The sky quickly changed from blue to orange as they wrapped up at the last shop.

“Well, it’s getting a bit late but how about we grab a bite to eat first?” Ruby smiled warmly at Aasim.

“Sure, I saw this place that looks like it would be delicious.” Aasim answered as he guided her through the streets. Soon they had made their way to the tavern. As they sat down to eat they were greeted by a server who quickly brought them their meal. The two laughed and smiled as they talked. Each had split up their meal, giving it to the other to try. Everything was delicious.

Thanking the server for their meal, they exited the tavern and made their way back to the ship. Before they got on board, Ruby stopped, causing Aasim to pause as well. They looked at each other, staring into the other’s eyes before Ruby got up on her tiptoes and captured Aasim’s lips in a gentle, warm kiss. Aasim’s hands went to cup Ruby’s face as the kiss deepened before they pulled away.

“Alright, we should probably head back now.” Ruby had a light blush on her face as she looked up at him.

Aasim’s face was rather red as well, a kind smile appearing on his lips. “Let’s,” His hand grasped Ruby’s, their fingers intertwining once again as the two continued to walk towards Ol’ Kickass.

----

“I got you, Louis.” Clementine grunted, grasping onto Louis’ pants as she helped him up to the crow’s nest.

Louis let out a deep breath, groaning when his butt hit the crow’s nest before he shuffled to sit beside her. “Thanks.”

The two smiled at each other, a giddy euphoria taking over their stomachs when they realized they had the whole day to themselves. They had barely waited for the others to leave before climbing up here. It seemed that the fact that they were alone was so exhilarating that they’d begun to giggle as soon as they climbed towards the crow’s nest. Louis loved his crew, but it was so hard to find some alone time without someone interrupting them. Whenever the two of them had a moment alone, Willy would show up begging for help in getting Garbage down from somewhere or Aasim would ask if he could get their opinion on the ship’s next destination.

Clementine looked out towards the town, leaning her head against his shoulder, humming softly at his warmth. Louis glanced at her and smiled before placing a soft kiss on her forehead.

“It’s such a nice day.” Clementine commented, looking at the sky.

“Yeah, it really is. It’s always cool to see a new place too. We should go to town tomorrow and explore!” His eyes danced with excitement, looking over at his girlfriend with a happy grin.

Clementine looked up at him, her eyes getting lost in his freckled face before placing a gentle kiss on his cheek. “That sounds great.”

Louis felt his cheeks get warm, his voice disappearing in his euphoria. He cleared his throat in hopes it would help him speak.“So where would you like to go?”

Clementine thought for a minute before responding. “The marketplace would be fun. It’s always exciting to see what they have to offer.”

“Then it’s settled. Tomorrow will be our marketplace adventure!”

Suddenly Clementine sat up and leaned forward, her face becoming serious.

“What’s wrong?” Louis leaned forward as well, a look of concern on his face.

“Someone just got on our ship. It looks like they’re trying to steal it.”

“What?!?”

“But they won’t succeed.” A confident smile played on Clementine’s lips. Without another word Clementine grabbed a nearby rope, swinging down. Her body spun around before she jumped off and landed near the thief. Unsheathing her rapier, Clementine lunged forward, her blade trapping the thief’s dagger and disarming him. His dagger fell into the sea with a soft thunk. The thief looked over at Clementine with a sheepish smile. Clementine returned a smile mockingly before shooting her leg out and kicking him overboard.

“That was so badass, Clem!” Louis shouted from atop the crow’s nest. A proud smile played on his lips.

“Just give me a minute and I’ll be back up there.” She shouted back to him with a smile, climbing up the mast and landing beside him once again. As soon as she was back in the crow’s nest, Clementine snuggled next to him and the couple continued to talk about their plans for the next day. Even though hours had passed by, to the two it only seemed like minutes before the rest of the crew began to return.

Everyone seemed to have a good time in town. Willy and AJ told their adventure with the boys and Brody. Tenn quietly threw in a word or two as the story was told, fixing the errors that AJ said and the exaggerated tales that Willy spun. As the night went on, the crew’s energy slowly started to die down. Each of them lazily moved along to head to bed, happy that they’d had a great day away from the sea.

[sanerontheinside]

Written for @caffeinewitchcraft‘s caffeine challenge! 

[Prompt: A story told from the POV of someone who’s not part of the hero’s journey. No, their role is much worse. They’re the hero’s tragic backstory and they realize it a week before their death.]

* 

He came to study with me in the winter, when the snows had crawled down from the caps and frozen and dried my garden. I wasn’t sure what he expected to learn from me, in this dormant time of year, before he knew his herbs and beetles. I told him so, and sent him down to the cellar to learn from the dried plants and the old books.

Not a single university-educated bone in the boy’s body. Which was partly just as well—those children think they know so much. But they only teach certain things at universities these days, and I’m not all that keen on teaching complex geometries myself. Then come the lunar orbits and the rotations of other celestial bodies nearby, and the interactions of plants, and drying and heating and—

And that’s if you’re lucky enough to find a student who knows the world does not revolve around them, but around a burning celestial flame. Alchemy is a complex art, built on everything at once. It’s the making of magic from science and maths, exploring the chaos within the order, and not the reverse. It isn’t for the faint of heart. 

But he came with the recommendation of his village’s witch, a practical woman and an old friend. I suppose that’s the best I could expect, if I��d ever wanted a student.

(I didn’t).

She talked me into it anyway. In a letter. Awful wench, not even the decency to do it in person.

Addie has always had what I had not—a way with people, of inspiring trust and warmth. Or rather: one day I stopped trying, and discovered an immense freedom in speaking my mind. I lost my place as the court physician, and no longer had to curry to the whims of my betters. I lost my friends, and realised they’d never been friends to me at all.

I found Addie barely a month after that. I discovered the person I had once wanted to be, alive and well and thriving out in the great wide world, whereas I had felt throttled and sidelined since the day I came into the city.

He reminded me of you, she wrote. He sees that the world is broken and wants so very badly to fix it.

“And he thinks alchemy is the way to do that?” I muttered aloud in my kitchen.

Yes, he wants the power of this gift; he still thinks that power is the way to fix things. Yes, I know it should frighten me, you may keep your grumbly lecture.

I know you will not let him abuse your art.

Addie would never steer me wrong. 

And she knew how to throw down a challenge, which certainly never hurt.

Her protégé was worthy of her praise. He learned fast, and he had a knack for it, much to my surprise. Instead of learning his herbs and beetles he sat that and charted and muttered and cross-referenced my many old books. Corrected half the Celestial Atlas in tiny marginalia. Found my old journals where I’d done my own calculations, and started studying those instead. 

It is rare to have a student so willing and stubborn. Patient enough that he will wait for you to warm up to him, certain of his charm. He cared for my goats and chickens, kept my hearth clean, fixed my rickety gate and dusted the shelves. If nothing else, it was good to have the company. 

And on late nights, the sky was high and clear, and he argued about the paths of the celestial flames with me, and argued about what it was that the gods were burning. Clever boy—I could see why Addie liked him. He told such fine stories, when he was finally sure I would listen. 

He was hopeful. He was hopeful and certain and brilliantly clear in a way that I no longer was. He had a purpose and a belief, a fire lit from within. Sitting beside him on the long solstice nights, I felt like the cold of these mountain winters had seeped into my very bones. Or perhaps it was the cold and damp of the city and the king’s court, and I’d never really warmed through, even after all these years tending to my own, comfortable, clean fire. 

Maybe he would burn strong enough for it to last. Maybe he could go out into the world, even down into the city, and light the way for better days. He was already so serious and so solemn, sometimes. He had the makings of that patient, constant force that whittles away stone and marks the passage of time with no more than an absent gesture. 

And he made me miss one plucky village witch. Made me feel the way I had when I first met her, and realised that someone like her truly could exist. That unforgettable feeling, like filling your lungs full with air so cold and sharp and rarified that it feels like your heart might burst. They’ll be the death of me, I sometimes think, with their kind and solemn eyes, their unearthly patience. 

* 

Spring came, cold and grey and eerily still. I’d begun to send the boy out to the mountainsides, to investigate what enterprising young things had sprouted, what had braved the first thaw and would likely die the next frost, for Winter hadn’t quite finished with our corner of the world just yet. He wasn’t much for herbal lore, though I could tell Addie had tried to teach him. 

We get few travelers in these parts; the ones who are lost rarely make it this far, and the locals try to avoid me. They’re not too overfond of mages, never mind that alchemists aren’t any such thing (well, only peripherally). A village witch succeeds in part because she can convince the villagers that she is harmless, and I have never been able to do any such thing. 

They know. They only come to me when there is no one else to help them. A child sick with fever whom even the mages could not save, a plague among the cattle—these are the things that overcome the bounds of any fear. 

I did not take the boy with me for this. 

It was sheer misery: bitter cold and stillborn foals, cattle poisoned by polluted water. I was asked to do what even a mage couldn’t fix. There was one in the town’s inn, still, unwilling to give up or admit defeat. He looked haggard. It takes much from a being, tending to the fevered and the ailing. 

But where a mage goes to the cattle, I go first to the water. 

This is not what we called you for, the elders tell me. 

“But you called me, so allow me to do my work.” To purify, to separate out what they cannot see is killing them. 

This is what I would not have that young boy see: the way they shy from me. Maybe they will never hide from him, because he is not like me. He draws people to himself without so much as thinking of it. But I do not wish for him to ever see this gift we share as a thing of which to be ashamed. 

“I remember you,” the mage said to me one day. “I saw you once, in the city. You were a member of the king’s court.” 

The chill wind rippled across my back. 

“You were well known for your work. We studied it, in my school.” 

“That’s very flattering,” I said, still wary. 

He chuckled. “Hardly. You were renowned, and a Master at the University, read around the kingdom.” 

“I was renowned, and a Master at the University, and they burned my books when I left the city,” I told him. 

It had taken me days to realise that he was actually quite young. Perhaps he did not know the story—how I left, and why. 

Some days I still regard it as a terrible mistake. Days like this, when I am up to my elbows in poisoned water and pushed to the limit of my tolerance for cold stares. Days when I remember Addie’s patience, and the patience of that boy looking after my hearth and my goats, waiting for me to teach him. 

I felt—these days, very often—that it was my greatest failure. How could I have dared to turn around and throw away everything I’d ever worked for? How could I, when I’d already done so much? 

The mage frowned at me. “My school did not burn your books. Our Masters told us about you. You were... remarkable. I’ve always wanted to meet you.” 

“Ah.” I shrugged, and squinted at my work. “Well, you know what they say about meeting one’s heroes.” 

I bent down to fix the water filter into place. It was still too difficult to do, I couldn’t possibly expect the women of this town to have the time to fiddle with this thing as much as I had... 

“I do,” he said. I heard him rise from my workbench, and move toward the door. “They’re far better in person.” 

By the time I looked up again, he was gone. 

* 

The villagers paid me what I asked, with dark looks and hand-signs to avert evil. How kind of them, I think to myself with the slightest of smiles, to wish me on my way well-protected from meddling spirits. 

The mage walked with me to the village boundary, still asking me about the filters, how to use them, where to put them. It was a strange thing, to enjoy teaching once again. Despite the misery of that place, I left it feeling a little lighter. 

Just not for very long. 

As I mounted the last hill between me and home I discovered that my hands were shaking. My heart raced too fast. Surely, I grumbled, I cannot be that old. 

The cold sweat and the sudden gripping fear was what propelled me forward. The blinding terror made me run, dropping my satchels and precious tools haphazard on still-frozen ground. 

There are rules that any mountain-dweller knows. You do not cross the path of certain things, you do not speak to masters of the mountain. If something speaks to you, you are polite, but you do not leave your answer open to another question. 

You don’t invite a stranger in. 

Rarely is there anything that wanders in these parts looking to make mischief. But young magicians are forever a target for such beings. Especially those of great potential. 

The shadows are a hungry thing, here among the ice and rock, but no shadow can abide a fire. I sent embers spewing from my hearth, threw a rain of sparks through the unnaturally dark room. They fell upon the shadow-creature and it did not burn, but it pulled its tendrils tight, as if in pain. By the faint light I could just make out the child’s pale and frightened face—

—and the fine-scaled golden features of the thing that hovered over him. 

Another rule: you do not show your fear. Oh, it smells fear on the wind—but you do not show it. 

“There is a sign on my gate, and a rune on my door, and even the goats in my yard would have told you that you are not welcome. It is time for you to depart.” 

It bared its teeth at me in something like a smile, wrapped the dark about itself and vanished without a word. 

Too easy. 

“Achim.” 

The boy was curled in on himself in the corner, so small. 

With a sigh, I crossed to the table and picked up my kettle. I set it to heat, and banished the soot from my floors. There was something to be said for heat and sweetness and spice, after such things. I approached him slowly and crouched down to tuck a blanket about his curved shoulders. “Achim, look at me.” 

I nudged his chin up until I could see his eyes. “It isn’t coming back.”

“It—told me I could never—run far enough,” he stammered out through chattering teeth. 

“And I’m telling you that I keep my word. Any being that does not keep to the contract is one you can bring low. This is your first lesson, child.” 

First, and perhaps the last. 

He watched me, wide-eyed, as I set the table. Watched me as evening fell. Watched me clean and hum and read until he fell asleep. 

And when I was sure he did not dream, I pulled my shawl about my shoulders, and walked out the door to the edge of my grounds, to the garden gate that he had fixed for me. 

The creature was still lurking there. 

Actually, it loitered, rather as if it owned the place. It had a vaguely human shape, though of course appearance was the last thing you could trust. It leaned against the fence as if propped up at hip and elbow, lounging like an uninvited lover at the gate. The cloak of shadows hung from its shoulders, hood fallen free of the being’s head. 

Mischief-maker, quicksilver trickster. People used to come up all this way into the mountains, searching for gold. There were stories of the yellow demon they saw glimmers of in the mountain streams. 

“You are owed nothing. You came onto my lands at the invitation of one who did not even own them. Why do you linger?” 

“He is young and powerful,” the golden creature said, “and the future that awaits him must not be.” 

Another, less acknowledged rule: such beings are old and powerful, and if they speak of troubled times, perhaps it is worth a listen. Perhaps, or perhaps not. It is certainly a folly to ignore such warnings. The being that delivers it is never one that cares for your wellbeing. But if it worries for its own, then you may be sure: a mortal will not survive what follows. 

“What future do you see?" 

“Death to the mages and witches,” it said, without hesitation. “He will do what is right, he will bring light into the darkness, as you believe him capable of doing. But with that light, great unintended evils will spread through the world. The extinction of those who use magic, those who are magic, is not a change that this world can sustain.” 

“And I suppose you are here out of enlightened self-interest,” I blurted, and cursed myself for my thoughtless mouth. 

The being only smiled. 

“That boy has a better chance than most,” I rallied. “He has a gift, and it isn’t just his magic or his knowledge. He has a chance at gaining enough wisdom to keep it in balance.”

“Maybe so. But you have always known that your faith is not enough to save anyone. Sometimes, there is simply nothing that you can do.” 

I leaned heavily against the gatepost. “And if you know so much of me, you know I cannot let you take him. Because you have to try.” 

That Achim should have come to me—that Addie should have sent him here—was a chance as slim as starfall landing in one’s yard. I had discovered not long afterward that the King had set his hounds to thinning out the ranks of learned folk outside the city. Achim’s parents had died for “spreading lies”—insisting that the factories had tainted the village water—and the only thing that saved their son was that he’d been practicing a little bit of simple trick-magic at Addie’s fire. 

I must have been among the first to fall in the King’s war on the educated, five years ago. One of the learned folk whose names had been used to justify the slaughter of traitors, snobs, and liars—the evil that would bring the kingdom down. 

Those who did not leave the city, as I had, had simply been murdered. 

“Name a different price,” I told the shadow-creature from the mountains, and it laughed. 

“A price for what? I did not come here for a deal.” 

“Yet you will make one, because I have asked it of you,” I said. “I will abandon my charges no longer. So you will tell me what the price is for me to keep them safe.” 

“Them,” the creature echoed, and raised a golden eye-ridge. “Who are they?” 

The people I left behind in the city. The boy I refused to teach for so long, and now might never really get a chance to teach at all. Addie and that tired, curious mage who still thought me a hero. 

The being stared at me. 

“Come out, fair lady, dance with me,” the golden creature said at last with a wide, inhuman grin, and stretched out a long-clawed hand. “I find yours is a better mind to dance with than a child’s.” 

I laughed, terrified, because I did not know what else to do. “That is your offer?” 

Dancing, what was that supposed to mean? 

It twitched its shoulders, like a shrug, and pointed up at the moon. “Until it turns, you have time to think on it.” It made a show of straightening out, dusting off its sleeves, and turned to go. “Seven nights, I believe, and remember that they grow ever shorter.”

“Wait! How am I not abandoning anyone if I am off—dancing?” 

There were tales of diaphanous things dancing on the mountain winds, through the shadows in the canyons. The souls of dead climbers, some still think. There were stories of souls that danced with death. I had always thought the truth must be somewhere in between. 

This wasn’t quite what I’d had in mind, however. 

The being looked over its shoulder, and blinked at me, slowly, like a mountain cat. “The only truth you know of what lies beyond this place is that you can’t return to where you’ve been. You do not step into the same water twice in a mountain stream, Tali, yet you have never made the mistake of thinking that there is nothing beyond the stream.”

Between one breath and the next, the creature vanished. 

I stayed and watched the moon for a long time, too numb to feel the cold. I thought, I’d never given you my name. 

No—I don’t remember giving you my name. 

I wasn’t sure which thought was the more terrifying. 

Back in the house behind me, a young boy slept a dreamless sleep. In response to a nameless, shapeless threat against him, I’d thrown all caution to the winds, somehow bargained with my life. All in the name of a potential none could grasp. 

And with a being that had the advantage of me, no less. 

I won’t be able to teach him, I thought, and dropped that regret like a stone at the gate; one of those smooth, small stones that weighs far more than it looks like it ought to. Another rounded, heavy stone: I won’t be the one to watch him grow. 

I’d waited too long, again. Old fool, still making the same mistakes as always. 

I had a week to get my old journals in order. At least, as a university master, I’d been an obsessive scribe for my own affairs. 

* 

There was a tale I once heard, about a woman who learned the name of the fae that she’d entered into a bargain with, and that was what freed her from their deal. I did not recall making a deal with anything. 

But then, I did once somewhat carelessly offer my heart and soul in exchange for being permitted to learn the secrets of the universe... 

[seraphimluxe]

Mama × b.b.

summary: In their darkest moments of despair people call for their mothers, but Bucky could never understand why.

Warnings: dark as shit, angst, lots of death, torture, starvation-dehydration-sleep deprivation, violence, just kinda sad imo

a/n: closest thing to whump I've ever written and I'm not sure how I feel. to me the flow is awkward but I think it came out how I wanted it. enjoy 🧡

trigger warning

Bucky's seen a lot of people die in the war. He's seen a lot. He's noted the way the light leaves their eyes, he's noted the way the pain stops the moment just before they're gone, he's noted the way their hands shake, their whole body quivering, and he can never tell if it's from fear, or their body being incapable of processing the pain.

There was one particular thing that was consistent, even among the strongest, toughest soldier, and no matter how many times Bucky heard it, it sent chills down his spine everytime;

they called for their mother.

Never their father, their nanny, beloved pet, their drill instructor, their aunt. No, always their mother. Naturally not every single man did it, but the amount that did shocked Bucky.

Even orphaned men, men who were silent, shy or emotionless, shamelessly calling for a saving grace. Each using their own delegated term for her: mother, mam, ma, mama, mum, mommy, mammy, mutter, he's heard it all, in every language he could thing of.

The first time he'd heard it, it was a chilling awakening to reality. As he heard it more often he began to wonder the reasoning behind it. Surely these smart, strong intelligent young men weren't looking for their mother to appear on the battlefield and magically heal them? Realistically, there was nothing one's mother could do in a situation like that, it would only result in collateral.

He figured it was an apology. A plea for forgiveness, a cry for mercy, that her child– the one she carried, and fed, the one she invested her love in, the one she raised and guided to adulthood– an apology from him, for abandoning her, for leaving her when it was his turn to take care of her, for causing an irreparable hole in her life. Yes, an apology it was, but only the tiniest bit.

But he came to find, that in truth, it was a call. A man regressing to his first instinct, wailing for his mother like he did when he first came into the world, looking for the safety and comfort she once provided. That's what they were looking for: safety.

Regardless of who they were, what their upbringing was, or even their relationship with their mother, she held him and kept him safe for nine months. For many she was so much more than temporary residence, she sacrificed, sought her child's best interest, and loved. Oh, the power of love, and to be the first one to ever love someone, to have that kind of impact on them.

Their whole lives these men had relied on their mother for answers, for comfort, healing, they relied on her to fix things. She always knows where their socks were, where their homework was, how to fix a skinned knee, how to fix a cowlick. And now, when these men are lost and scared, with no sense of security guiding them into the afterlife, they'd turn to her, because she must know. The infant-like belief that she'll protect them if they call for her.

That was absolutely jarring for Bucky.

He could never imagine doing it himself, despite how his friends back home used to joke about him being a mama's boy. He always protested, but only for the sake of his dignity, because they were in fact, correct.

She was a gentle woman. Mild-mannered and polite, like most women in the 30's, but her temper was enough to ignite wet hay. She reminded him of Steve more times than he'd admit, and the idea of leaving either of them– dying– it wasn't something he would let himself think about often.

He thought of her when he fell off the train. He thought of her before he even got on the train. The second before he hit the ground, an apology was ghosting his lips, awaiting release.

He didn't think of her again until after he got his arm. His focus was on the pain. There was so much pain. His hands shake whenever he thinks about it. He didn't understand what was happening at the time. He wasn't sure if he was dead or alive, or what they wanted with him. He thought maybe this was the afterlife, this was his punishment for killing all those men during the war. He couldn't understand.

They made him understand. They beat him, trained him, taught him. He will understand now.

But he didn't. He couldn't understand Russian, he didn't understand why they'd beat him, he didn't understand why no one was coming to save him. Even when they spoke his language, he still didn't understand.

They broke him. They tied him up, bound his wrists and bound his ankles, and they pushed him to his knees.

He didn't understand why they made him take his shirt off. He didn't understand why they hammered his flesh fingers until the bones splintered, why they laughed whenever someone would land a punch on him, why they won't let him rest. He hasn't slept in three days because of their "testing"

He knows they're only testing him for entertainment, and they know he knows. He knows his body is trying so hard to heal, but with no food or water, no rest, and new wounds constantly opening, it's fighting a losing battle.

He thought they might let up soon, the two men seemingly tired of his misery, but he didn't even have the energy to flinch when two new men entered, one with a whip, the other with a knife.

He couldn't take it. The first lash on his back enough send him over the edge. This was too far.

"Stop."

His voice sounded foreign to his own ears. Whether it was the incessant ringing, or the dry rasp in his throat, he didn't care enough to wonder.

A shared amused look between the two men was barely visible through his swollen eyes. He could feel his eyes working their hardest to produce tears, but the days of dehydration left his body unable to release anything.

He was humiliated. He was tired. He was hurt. He was broken. He was lost. He was confused.

The combination of these would have made any man terrified, but he didn't even have the energy to be scared. No, he wasn't scared.

He was homesick.

The memory of home was fuzzy, he couldn't even really remember what the concept was. His brain felt like goop from the past few days, so he couldn't quite pinpoint what it was about home, but he knew he wanted it. He missed it.

The flash of an alley, a porch with an iron railing, rain on asphalt, tall brick buildings with lots of windows, the smell of car exhaust and cigarette smoke, a tiled floor.

He didn't know why these random flashes in his head made his chest tug with longing, and why they were so comforting. He tried to hold onto them, to catch them as they shot through his mind.

Another sharp lash across his back broke him from his thoughts, a raw hoarse scream painfully tearing from his vocal cords. His thoughts were far from home. He was suddenly in the room again. The present is the only thing he knows. Pain.

He believes it wasn't always like this, there was a time before the pain. His mind drifts again. He wants security, safety, comfort. He wants to be held, and not hurt. He wants to be cared for– no, he needs it.

A strike across his back, tearing from the scarred flesh on his shoulder, across the other two lashes, and down to his hip.

Mama. A broken, dry sob fires through him, the word like sandpaper in his mouth. The impact sends him lurching forward, almost falling, his hair tumbling and sticking to his bloodied face.

He has broken.

•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•

He remembers her.

The first time they wipe him it doesn't work, they just electrocuted the super soldier. He whispers the word again, his body nearly burned from the failed procedure.

The second time they succeed enough. He doesn't remember who he is. He remembers home, he remembers her, he remembers Steve, but he doesn't know how he fits, or how they relate to him.

The third time, the fourth time, the times when they start to lose count, he's gone. He's pliant. He knows his orders and what he's told. That's all he knows. There's still a gentle faceless frame of safety and comfort lingering in the dark part of his mind. It's fuzzy and hurts his head to think about, but he knows it.

Even when he doesn't know himself, he remembers her.

And then there comes a time where he forgets. His last ounce of comfort, the last remnant of humanity was forgotten.

And then he was lost.

[onceuponaprincessworld]

Am I Your Girlfriend?

Hi, I wrote a fic!! I know I am as suprised as probably you are! I still can’t believe it. I would like to thank @fallforcs, the anonimity of this event gave me the push I needed to publish my little story! 

I would like to thank my wonderful beta reader @hookedonapirate for all the help and support, without her this story would never have seen the light of day.

Also a big thank you to @liloproductions, my amazing artist for creating the banner for the story, I love it!

And a big thank you to everyone who had read it and for all your sweet comments, you guys are the best!! 

Also on Ao3 and FFN. 

Summary: Emma never thought that she would stay for long in that new sleepy town, she was a foster kid after all. She also didn't expect to fall in love, but here we are.

Rating: G, there is kissing.

She doesn’t know how it happened, but she is in love with Killian Jones!

It all started in September, the first day of school.

She was the new kid, and she tried to keep to herself and stay out of everyone’s way. Well, she tried, but she didn’t really succeed. Because she literally fell in someone’s arms.

“Oh, steady there,” he said in a british accent.

“Sorry.” Emma tried to go around him and leave.

“Don’t worry about it,” he smiled. “Are you new? I haven’t seen you before.”

“Yeah, first day actually,” she answered rather awkwardly.

“Then let me introduce myself - Killian Jones, sophomore.”

“Emma, Emma Swan. Also a sophomore.”

“Pleased to meet you,” he beamed at her. “Do you need any help getting around?”

“No, I am good,” she replied and left him alone at the hallway.

She thought that was the last she would see of him. But boy, was she wrong. It turned out, they had all the same classes. Like all of them. From Math, and English to History and Chemistry.

So, yeah, it wasn’t really her fault that they started hanging out. How could she not when they spent all of their time in school together?

On the plus side he fit in well with her small group of friends. Ruby, who she met in gym class and had become something like her best girlfriend. The raven haired teen thought he was funny and good to look at, and it didn't hurt that she had her eyes for his friend, Victor. Even Graham, who helped her find her English class and who she started to consider as a friend,  though he was okay, and he was never easy to accept new people.

Eventually, they started to see each other outside of school as well. He took her to all of his favorite places around Storybrooke - Granny’s for milkshakes and onion rings, the movies because “Come on Swan, they’re playing a Harry Potter marathon,” and the docks to watch the boats. “They are ships, Swan.”

They were becoming fast friends, but that’s it, nothing more. Friends who spent all of their free time together or with their shared group of friends. And they liked hanging out with each other, and sharing their hopes and dreams and their pasts. Which was a first for Emma.

As the weather became colder, they spent all their time at Killian’s place. Emma’s foster parents were nice; Mary Margaret and David were doing their best to make her feel at home. But still, she liked to hang out at Killian’s house better. He lived with his big brother, Liam, who worked a lot, so it was usually the two of them. They watched movies, snuggling on the couch, doing their homework and having dinner together.

When Liam and his girlfriend  Elsa, were home, they all hung out together. They played board games or cooked. Her favorite pastime was watching Liam teasing Killian, like when he called him “little brother” and Killian corrected him, but he did so while smiling. She knew they cared a lot about each other because it was just the two of them.

To top it off, she didn't feel like an intruder in their home; they always made sure she was comfortable and included. Emma felt at home there; she felt safe. She didn’t know why yet, but she was about to figure it out.  

During their Christmas break, she went to his house to hang out like usual. They were supposed to study as well since they had some math problems, and Emma could use his help for that. Math wasn’t her favorite subject.

Liam opened the door and welcomed her in.

“Hi Emma,” he greeted with a smile. “Killian is upstairs in his room. I will get him for you.”

“Thanks, Liam.” She moved to get her shoes off, hearing Liam calling from upstairs, “Killian, your girlfriend is here”.

She froze. Girlfriend? When did Killian got a girlfriend? Why hadn't he said anything to her? Who was she? A sudden feeling of jealousy started taking over her. Did Ruby know? Was it Ruby? No, it couldn't be. She was dating Victor.

Suddenly, she remembered an incident that happened at school before the break. Killian was on his way to his locker, and she went to surprise him when he stopped to talk to Tink, the cute blonde from history class who always wore mini skirts. Was she his girlfriend?

Just then Killian was coming down the stairs with a grin on his face.

“Hi love, I thought we could watch a movie or we could go out for a hot chocolate at Granny’s.”

Emma was still standing by the door, so he approached her and  touched her arm. “Swan, are you okay?”

She tried to smile and nod when the realisation hit her.

Liam was referring to her as his girlfriend.

She felt relief for a moment and then shock. Was she his girlfriend? Well sure, they spent all their time together, he always watched after her, she cared about him a lot, and yeah she loved him, but girlfriend? Realization hit her like a brick.

She loved him! She did love him. She was completely and totally in love with him.

Now that she’s able to admit it to herself, where does she go from here? She doesn’t know what to do.

She smiles at him and replies, “Yeah sure, let’s just watch a movie.” She spends the whole time thinking about it.

Killian senses she is distracted, but he knows sometimes she needs space before she can talk to him, and he accepts it.

By next week, she is still distracted and she keeps avoiding him.

He knows she went out with Ruby two days ago, because Victor came over to play video games and he told him. He even joked, asking him if they were having trouble in paradise. It’s not like they are a couple and they have to always be together or inform the other when one of them is having other plans, but they always talk about their plans.

He knows it’s just him she is avoiding. On the one hand, he is relieved she has her friend to talk to, but it still hurts that she doesn’t talk to him.

So he decides to confront her. He goes to her place, but she isn’t there. Her foster mom told him she went for a walk, so he knows there is only one place she could be.

It turns out, she is there, sitting on a bench by the lake, where he took her the first time they hung out, just the two of them, and he wanted to take her to all of his favorite places around town.

He stays for a moment admiring her from a distance, she is wearing a red coat and jeans, her hair is loose and she looks stunning. He takes a deep breath and starts walking towards her.

“Hey Swan, I thought I might find you here. Is everything alright?” he asks when he is at a hearing distance.

She jumps a bit at his voice. She was so lost in her thoughts, she didn’t heard him coming. She quickly recovers and answers.“Yeah, of course. Why wouldn’t it be?” She then gives him a fake smile.

“It’s just that we haven’t seen each other a lot this week and I have a feeling you are avoiding me” he admits, and there is a hint of pain in his voice.

She hurt him, but she doesn’t want to hurt him. She loves him, and she doesn’t know if he feels the same.

“Everything is fine, Jones. It’s just a bit busy with the holidays and stuff.”

“All right then,” he murmurs, and she knows he doesn’t believe her. He always was able to read her like an open book. “Are we still on for New Years?”

They had made plans some time ago. He and Liam would go to her place and spend New Year’s Eve with her family. And on New Years they would all share dinner together.

Her foster parents had invited them over after Thanksgiving when they found out that it would be just the two of them. Mary Margaret said with the time they spent together, it would be rude to separate them on such a holiday, and Liam had accepted their invitation since he wasn’t much of a cook.

“Yes, my foster parents are all over the preparations. You should see how many recipes Mary Margaret has searched through in order to find the perfect one for a New Year’s pie.”

“Okay. What do you want to do now?” he asks, afraid she prefers to stay there alone.

“Am I your girlfriend?” she blurts out, and manages to leave him speechless.

“Uh… hem...” he coughs. “Excuse me, Swan?”, he says while scratching behind his ear.

“It’s just that… nothing. Forget about it,” she says and turns around to get up and leave. But Killian is quicker and puts his hand on her arm before she does so.

“Emma, please don’t hide from me. Do you want to be my girlfriend?”  he asks with a shy smile and his heart is beating so fast he thinks it might explode.

“Liam called me your girlfriend the other day. So am I?”

“Do you want to be?”

She doesn’t meet his eyes, and instead she looks at her hands in her lap

“Because I would want nothing more than to be able to call you my girlfriend. To be able to kiss you as I’ve thought about so many times before. To hold your hand and hold you in my arms. You are so beautiful, Emma, inside and out, and…”

He doesn’t get to finish his thoughts before Emma leaps forward and kisses him. It takes him a moment to react, and he kisses her back, as he’s dreamt of doing so many times before.

When they break the kiss and  touch their foreheads together, he asks breathlessly. “So, what do you say Swan, am I your boyfriend?”

Her “Yes” is answered between kisses.

8 Years later:

They exchange vows at the very same lake where they shared their first kiss. Mary Margaret and David, her now adoptive parents are sitting near Liam and his wife, Elsa. Their friends are all there to witness this important moment of their lives.

After the minister pronounced them husband and wife, just before Killian bends his head to kiss her, he whispers, “Am I your husband, Swan?”

Her answer is once again swallowed by his kiss.

And she couldn’t be happier that she is madly in love with Killian Jones.

The End.

[frickfrackjimin]

Begin Again

A/N: This is a condensed drabble of the first few chapters of a fic I had started for Joonie a few months ago but never got the motivation to finish. It’s really rough but I wanted to put something out to get some writing on my blog started. I’m not the best but I’m trying to improve. Enjoy fluff Monie!!! 

⇻“For the first time, what’s past is past.” 

Pairing: Namjoon x named O/C  Genre: Fluff  Words: 4.3k  Inspired by: this song Warnings: Mild language, mentions of infidelity 

September seemed to come and go in the blink of an eye. Schoolwork was keeping everyone super busy, especially now that there was actual material to learn and remember for their exams. Namjoon was no exception to this; he had been staying up late studying for the past few nights and the lack of sleep was catching up to him.

He tried power napping during lunch, but it was hard when he sat with the people he did. They never seemed to have a dull moment. Any time Namjoon was close to falling asleep, something like Hoseok spilling milk all across the table or Jin yelling at Yoongi would prevent Namjoon from getting some shut-eye. Attempting to sleep was pointless.

"Okay Hobi, would you rather be forced to clean the boys bathroom with nothing but a toothbrush, or never be able to wear deodorant ever again?" Jin asked.

"Definitely clean the bathroom with a toothbrush. How am I supposed to pull in the ladies if I smell like you all the time?" Hoseok replied cheekily.

"Ya!" Jin yelled, hitting Hoseok's arm.

"Stop hitting me!" Hoseok yelled, beginning to hit Jin back.

"You can't hit me! I'm your hyung!" Jin said, still hitting Hoseok.

Namjoon rolled his eyes, saying, "Would you guys stop that, people are staring."

"Let them stare. Only makes it worse for the two of them," Yoongi retorted. Stopping to think for a second, he continued. "Actually, yeah, stop. I'm associated with you two."

Hoseok and Jin gave each other one last slap and went back to eating their lunch. Namjoon glanced over in the same direction he always catches himself looking; the popular table. Except this time when he looked over, he saw that a pair of honey brown eyes was staring back at him.

It was Choi Hyerin, the token new girl that every school seems to have. You know, the one who gets swept up by the so-called popular kids who take her in because she is pretty much the epitome of all things beautiful.

Namjoon had been granted a few interactions with Hyerin in the past few weeks. The first was during their first week of school, on Friday morning before classes.

He was walking alongside Jin and Yoongi on his way to the English class they were all enrolled in. Namjoon was honestly pretty good at English after being taught more of it at home, a benefit to having his mother wanting him to succeed in life. He only took the class because Jin begged him to and it looked good on his university applications.

"Dude, I'm just saying that if you had woken up a bit earlier, maybe you could look presentable like me," Jin said to Yoongi.

"Shut up, you care too much about what others think. I have been in school with these people for a year; they know what I look like. Why dress up to impress them?" Yoongi spat back.

"What, no ladies catching your eye?" Namjoon teased, earning himself a playful push from Yoongi. Of course, not even a playful push can keep the monster of destruction from embarrassing himself yet again.

Namjoon caught himself with his hands as he fell onto the floor, watching as the books he was holding went sliding down the hall. Jin and Yoongi burst into laughter as Namjoon felt his cheeks grow hot. He could feel the stares from the other students as they tried to hide their smiles. Namjoon stood up and pushed Yoongi back as Yoongi kept laughing.

"Dude, you are such a pussy. It wasn't even that hard of a push," Yoongi chuckled, picking up one of Namjoon's books.

"Shut up, I can't help it that I'm clumsy," Namjoon retorted, beginning to walk forward to pick up his other book that went flying during his freak episode.

As he zoomed in on the book, he reached down then realized that next to his book was a pair of high top white converse, not a mark on them. He looked up before realizing that Hyerin was standing next to him, staring at him with a small smile on her face.

He caught himself staring at her and quickly leaned down to grab his book. As he stood up he managed to hit his head on the open door of the locker behind him, subsequently slamming the locker shut. Namjoon grabbed the back of his head and shut his eyes, cursing his clumsy ass for acting this way in front of the prettiest girl in the entire school.

He heard a soft, "Are you okay?" before opening his eyes and seeing Hyerin staring at him with a concerned look on her face.

"I-I'm fine, sorry I was just trying to grab my b-book," Namjoon stuttered, bowing his head at her.

"Oh, that's okay," Hyerin replied, smiling at him. "I'm Choi Hyerin."

"I know," Namjoon said, immediately wanting to slap himself. Way to seem like a complete creep, Joon. "I-I mean, I've seen you around, you know, b-because you're new, and everything."

Real smooth.

"Um, anyways, I'm Kim Namjoon. It's nice to meet you," Namjoon said, bowing his head again at her.

"It's nice to meet you too, Namjoon. I like your hair, by the way," Hyerin said, pointing to his head of bleached blonde hair.

"Thanks," Namjoon breathed out.

"Well, I should be going, classes are starting soon. See you around, Namjoon!" Hyerin said, flashing him her pearly whites. She turns around and begins walking towards her friends before heading around a corner out of view.

"Yeah, see you around, Hyerin," Namjoon whispers, staring at where she disappeared.

He felt a hand grasp around his shoulder. "Dude, were you just talking to Choi Hyerin?" Yoongi asked.

"S-she was just helping me grab my book," Namjoon stuttered.

"Yeah, helping you grab your book and watching you embarrass the fuck out of yourself," Jin said, chuckling as he remembered watching Namjoon hit his head on the locker in front of her. Poor Joon.

"Stop. We need to get to class," Namjoon mumbled, walking away from his friends.

He couldn't believe he had actually spoken to her. Yeah, it was super embarrassing on his part and she probably thinks that he's a freak, but he still talked to her.

He tried to shake the thoughts of their conversation from his head as his teacher went on about different English vowel sounds, but he couldn't seem to get the image of her smile out of his head.

The next time was during the first photography club meeting of the year. It had roughly been a week since Namjoon embarrassed himself into the next century in front of Hyerin and he still got secondhand embarrassment on top of the first hand embarrassment he experienced himself every time he thought about it.

Namjoon walked into the classroom where the meeting was being held and was greeted by the President of the club, Yoon Soojin. They were in a conversation on how amazing the new camera he had gotten for his birthday was when she walked into the room. Namjoon could hear Soojin talking to him still, but he couldn’t seem to refocus his attention back to their conversation until Soojin had excused herself to walk to the front of the room, beginning the meeting.

"Hi everyone! Welcome back for another great year of photography club! We are joined by some new faces so if you wouldn't mind, stand up and introduce yourselves!"

A few of the first years stood up and said their names, bowing when they were finished. Finally, Hyerin stood up, smoothing out the skirt of her school uniform.

"Hi, I'm Hyerin! I'm a second year and just moved here from Daejeon," she smiled, giving a small wave to everyone before graciously sitting back down in her chair. Namjoon gave a small smile back to her.

Soojin stood back up at the front to begin with the announcements for the club.

"Okay! Now that everyone is acquainted, I think it's time we showcase our work! If you have your portfolio with you, please take it out. I think it would be really great for all of us to see what everyone else likes to take pictures of. It may even spark some inspiration in some of you!"

Namjoon could feel his palms getting sweaty. He was already so shy about his pictures, now having Hyerin here to see them only made him even more anxious.

He slowly took his portfolio out of his backpack and slid it on the desk in front of him. He stood up and walked away from it, leaving others to look at his photographs. He didn't feel like looking at their reactions to them, just in case they were horrible.

He looked at a few of the third year's pictures, admiring the technique and editing put into all of them; he only wished he could be as good as them one day.

He approached Hyerin's portfolio, opening up the folder. There were dozens of pictures of horizons, valleys, flowers, birds, and even city skylines. He was floored by how incredible the pictures were. Hyerin was extremely talented. Clearly, scenery and nature were her forte.

"So, what do you think?" he heard a voice ask from behind him.

He turned around and saw that it was Hyerin. He took a step back as she was really close to him, immediately regretting it as he saw her face fall. Trying to save himself, he began to speak.

"O-oh, Hyerin. You scared me. I-I think your pictures are amazing. The skylines are i-incredible. The nature ones too. I love the one with the birds. I never really noticed birds before. They scare me sometimes because what if they poop on your head as they fly over you? Or try to steal your food? You really can't trust them."

Hyerin stared at him, eyes wide. Namjoon felt like kicking himself. Nice rambling, idiot.

Suddenly, Hyerin started laughing. Namjoon got confused but started to chuckle along with her. With a laugh like hers, it was hard not to.

"That actually happened to my uncle at the beach once! We were on vacation in California and a bird swooped down and took his pizza right out of his hands. He was so mad and the bird just flew off down the pier with it! It was hilarious!" Hyerin laughed.

Namjoon laughed with her, glad that his stupid unnecessary rambling didn't scare her off.

As their laughter died down, Namjoon spoke again. "No, but seriously Hyerin, you are super talented. I love your pictures."

Hyerin beamed at him, "Thank you, Namjoon."

He felt his heartbeat increase. She remembered his name!

"Can I see your portfolio?" Hyerin asked, already turning around and walking towards Namjoon's desk and picking up the folder.

"Well I guess I can't say no now," Namjoon chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand.

Hyerin flipped through the photos in Namjoon's portfolio. Namjoon specialized in taking pictures of people and candid photos. If he could, he would love to be able to photograph things like weddings, engagements, or take people's graduation pictures. He loved being able to capture the emotion someone is feeling in the moment.

"Namjoon... these are incredible. You are wonderful at taking portraits," Hyerin said, eyeing a specific picture Namjoon took of his mother. She was making a birthday cake for his father and was frosting the cake. You could see the concentration in her face.

"Thank you," Namjoon replied, feeling his heart flutter at her compliment.

"I've never been good at taking portraits. Whenever I try to get a picture of someone I always use bad angles or they move and ruin the picture."

"What about pictures of yourself? Have you ever tried self-portraits?" Namjoon asked as she pulled up a black and white picture Joon had taken of himself. He had edited it so the rest of the picture was black and white, but a paint brush was sweeping across his face so that the area surrounding his eyes was his natural skin color.

"Oh no, I really don't like pictures of myself. I'd rather be behind the camera," she chuckled, embarrassed.

Namjoon laughed, "I'd rather be behind the camera too, especially when your pictures turn out as good as they do. I wish I could take landscape pictures like you do."

Hyerin’s cheeks flushed, and Namjoon felt his heart flutter in his chest. He was about to reply when Soojin collected the attention back to the front of the room to continue the meeting.

It had only been a few short interactions, but Namjoon, like the rest of the school, was absolutely enamored with her.

In the time Namjoon had zoned out, Hyerin had began walking over towards their table, with her friend Kang Jinae in tow.

"Oh my god," Namjoon whispered to himself. Looking up at his friends, he said, "Act normal."

"Why?" Yoongi asked, giving him a weird look.

It was at that moment that Hyerin approached the table, Jinae standing behind her.

"Hi Namjoon," she greeted him, bowing her head.

"Hi Hyerin," he smiled back. "These are my friends, Kim Seokjin, Min Yoongi, and Jung Hoseok."

"It's nice to meet you. I'm Choi Hyerin and this is my friend, Kang Jinae," they both bowed in greeting and the boys bowed their heads back.

"I was just wondering if you were going to the photography club meeting after school?" Hyerin asked.

Namjoon's eyes widened a bit, before composing himself and responding, "Yeah, I'll be there."

"Great!" Hyerin gave him a smile. "I'll see you after school!"

Namjoon saw Jinae smirk at Hyerin before they turned and walked away. When they sat back down, Jinae said something to Hyerin, which made Hyerin blush. She looked over at Namjoon, who immediately turned his head away, embarrassed that she had caught him staring. He smiled to himself nonetheless.

"What was that about?" Jin asked Namjoon.

"Nothing, we're just in photography club together."

"Yeah, I bet that's why she looks all flustered," Yoongi smirked, looking over in Hyerin's direction. "She's totally into you."

"No she isn't, Yoongi."

"I bet you that by Christmas break you guys will be together."

"Whatever," Namjoon muttered, secretly hoping that Yoongi was right.

Namjoon tapped his fingers repeatedly on his desk, nearly counting down the seconds until the final bell rang. He couldn't wait to get to photo club so he could see Hyerin.

The bell let out its normal chime and Namjoon practically jumped out of his seat and ran out of the class door. He went to his locker and quickly grabbed his camera bag before slamming the locker shut and rushing down the hall.

He slowed his pace as he approached to the room, not wanting to seem too eager when he entered. He walked in the room casually and noticed that Hyerin was there, speaking with one of the third year boys. He stared at her with lust in his eyes, which pissed Namjoon off. He knew that nearly every other boy in the school admired her, but the look he was giving Hyerin made him uncomfortable.

He made his way over to Hyerin, interrupting their conversation. Hyerin looked at him and seemed relieved.

"Namjoon! Great! I need to talk to you about the math homework!" Hyerin exclaimed. "Bye Euikon, talk to you later!"

She grabbed Namjoon's wrist and walked to the other side of the classroom.

"What do you need help with?" Namjoon asked.

"I don't. I just never know how to politely excuse myself from uncomfortable conversations, and that conversation with Euikon was especially uncomfortable. So thank you for showing up when you did," she chuckled slightly.

"Oh, well, it was no problem."

Soojin walked to the front of the classroom and gained everyone's attention.

The meeting passed by slowly, Namjoon stealing glances at Hyerin from the corner of his eye. She was focusing intently on whatever it was that Soojin was saying, something about the winter showcase.

At the end of the meeting, Namjoon was shuffling his things into his bag when a dainty, manicured finger tapped on his shoulder. Turning around, he met the honey brown eyes he had become all too familiar with.

"Hey, so do you remember how earlier I asked you for help on the math homework, but then told you I didn't actually need any help?"

"Yes?" Namjoon looked at her questioningly.

She sighed, "Well, I actually do need help. We're learning about scientific notation and I have no clue how to do anything involving negative exponents. Are you busy?"

Namjoon swallowed the frog in his throat before answering her. "Not at all."

"Great! There's a cafe down the street, why don't we go there?" Hyerin suggested.

"Okay," Namjoon said, still not believing that he was going somewhere, outside of school, with Choi Hyerin.

Namjoon and Hyerin are standing in line about to order their drinks. Namjoon was planning on paying for her. He wanted to seem like a gentleman, even if he only had about $15 in his wallet.

"What can I get for ya?" the cashier asked them.

"I'll have a small iced caramel macchiato," Namjoon said. He was a bit embarrassed to be ordering such a girly drink, but there was no way he was going to drink something like straight up black coffee, especially at 4:00 in the afternoon.

"I'll have a large iced coffee with six shots of espresso, cream, and a pump of vanilla and hazelnut," Hyerin said. Namjoon's eyes widened.

"Do you always get six shots of espresso this late in the day?" Namjoon asked bewildered.

Hyerin laughed at the look on his face. "Normally I get seven. Caffeine doesn't affect me that much, but I didn't want you to think I was THAT weird."

Namjoon kept looking at her, still not believing the amount of caffeine the tiny girl next to him was about to consume. She hardly reached his shoulders yet she could apparently handle so much more caffeine than him. He can barely handle two shots of espresso before getting all jittery, let alone seven.

Namjoon paid for their drinks and grabbed a table for them to sit at, letting her take the side with the booth seating.

"Are you sure you don't want to sit in the booth?" Hyerin asked, looking at Namjoon guiltily. "I don't mind taking the chair."

"I am positive I am fine in the chair," Namjoon smiled in response, taking a sip of his coffee. "Now, where should we start?"

Hyerin looked at him with a twinkle in her eye. He didn’t know that in the first ten minutes of them being in the café, she had been treated with more respect and kindness from this boy she barely knew than she did in the entirety of her last relationship.

He helped guide her through how to make a number with a negative exponent a decimal before having her attempt to solve a problem on her own.

As she worked, Namjoon couldn't help but stare at her. Her eyebrows scrunched as she guided her pencil across the paper, moving the decimal point over in an attempt to solve the problem.

"Okay, I think I got it. I just had an issue with- what are you looking at?"

She had caught him staring at her with a small smile. Namjoon felt his cheeks turned a light pink.

"Oh, um, nothing," he uttered.

"Okay…" she looked at him questioningly, chuckling a bit. "Anyways, I think I got the answer right but I couldn't remember if I had to move the decimal point to the right or left."

Namjoon looked at her answer and saw that it was correct. "You did it right, great job Hyerin."

Hyerin smiled, happy that she had gotten the answer correct. Namjoon smiled back and their eyes met. They stared at each other for a few seconds before Namjoon shook his head and said, "Um, let's move onto the next problem."

A few seconds into the next problem, the song on the radio changed.

"I love this song!" they said at the same time.

Hyerin looked taken aback. "You know this song?"

"Yeah, it's a great song. Super chill, I love the lyrics too," Namjoon replied. She had great music taste.

"If you like Keane, you would probably like Snow Patrol too. I know a lot of people know 'Chasing Cars' but they have a lot of other good songs too."

Namjoon's jaw nearly dropped to the floor. "I have every Snow Patrol album, dead serious."

"You're kidding me! So do I!" Hyerin nearly screamed back, giant smile across her face. Her ex-boyfriend would always tell her that she had a shitty taste in music. Whenever she would have him listen to a song that meant a lot to her, he would just say that he didn’t get it and stop listening about a minute in, not even giving the song a proper chance. Hyerin had learned to simply let him take the aux whenever they were together because she knew attempting to play her music would result in her feelings getting hurt.

Meanwhile, Namjoon couldn't believe it. Did this girl have any flaws? He didn't know anyone that listened to Snow Patrol aside from him, let alone had every album. He started to get this weird jittery feeling in his stomach, but just assumed it was from the espresso in his drink.

He helped her finish the rest of her math homework, an occasional comment on their music taste sneaking in here and there, before standing to leave.

"Well, it's almost 6:00, I should be getting home for dinner," Namjoon said, grabbing his backpack off of the floor.

"Same here. Thank you for the help on the homework, and for paying for the drinks. You didn't have to do that," she said, a shy smile adorning her face.

"It was no problem at all, are you okay getting home? I can walk you," Namjoon asked.

"Oh, sure," Hyerin replied with a small smile. She grabbed her bags and stood up, following Namjoon out of the shop. He held the door open for her, to which she thanked him and stepped out.

"So, have you always lived here?" Hyerin asked Namjoon, falling into step next to him. Well, she tried to at least. His legs were nearly the length of her, so for every two steps she took, he took one. He thought it was adorable.

"Yep, my whole life. Can get a bit boring around here, but Seoul is always interesting and that's not too far away."

"Do you have any siblings?"

"A younger sister, she's three years younger than me. A pain in the ass sometimes, but I love her nonetheless," he responded, looking down at Hyerin. "Do you have any siblings?"

"I have a younger brother, he's five years younger than me, and a younger sister that is ten years younger than me. They're my everything, I'd do anything for those kids," Hyerin replied, smiling to herself.

"What about your parents?" Namjoon asked, trying to keep the conversation going.

Hyerin hesitated. "That’s a topic for another time."

It truly was a topic for another time. Hyerin didn’t want to explain to Namjoon that she was currently living with her mom since her parents were in the process of getting divorced after her mother uncovered her father’s six year long affair with his childhood friend.

Namjoon could tell that Hyerin was sort of uncomfortable and cursed himself for turning the conversation to an awkward topic. Trying to redeem himself, he went on another one of his infamous tangents.

"My dad travels a lot for business, but when he's home we try to do stuff together as a family. Things like making and eating dinner together, going to the city, watching movies. Especially around Christmas, we always have a Christmas movie marathon. We all wear pajamas and drink hot tea and eat a lot of candy that normally we wouldn't have in the house. It's a Christmas tradition, I guess you could say."

Hyerin looked up at Namjoon with her big brown eyes. Namjoon was trying to interpret her facial expression. He couldn't seem to figure out what she was thinking.

"That sounds lovely, Namjoon," she finally spoke, cracking a smile.

They continued walking, before Hyerin stopped at the corner of a street.

"My house is just down this street, I can take it from here. Thank you again, Namjoon, for everything. I had a lot of fun today."

"So did I. I still can't believe that you like Snow Patrol," he laughed.

"Oh don't even get me started on that!" she laughed in return.

"Okay, well, I guess I'll see you tomorrow," Namjoon said shyly.

"See you tomorrow, Namjoon. Get home safe."

Namjoon nodded before turning on his heel and walking down the block. He turned back around, seeing that Hyerin was still standing there, watching him.

She had spent so long believing that no two people could truly be happy together. She had seen her past relationship fail, but thought that true love could still exist. After finding out that her parents, the perfect role models all throughout her childhood, were not even truly in love, she lost all hope of true love being real. All she had experienced over the past eight months was watching every true relationship she thought she knew break, crash, burn, and ultimately end in failure.

Meeting Namjoon and spending an afternoon with him made her realize that maybe, not all relationships were doomed for failure. Maybe there was someone out there who would not judge her for things like her music taste, or her coffee order, or her lack of understanding in math like others had in the past.

She jumped a bit when she was caught staring yet again, before turning around and walking the opposite way towards her house.

Namjoon could feel his heart beating actively in his chest, and he couldn't seem to wipe the smile off of his face.

On that Wednesday, in a café, a new love had begun.

[browniefox]

Dog Eat Dog World

bluh bluh cheesy title bluh

Mark’s a werewolf. Tyler knows. Ethan doesn’t, but he’s new. A one-shoty thing unless people seem to like it :D

also @paperbaghero, i think you mentioned you’d be interested when I asked what i should work on :)

oOo

Mark had been pacing nervously all day.

“I mean, might as well get the reveal over with asap, but still… what if it scares him off? It’s not like he’ll just be able to leave, this is the opposite side of the country! Maybe we should’ve tried to tell him when we were offering him a job.”

“Ninety-percent of your nerves are probably just the moon.” Tyler attempted to calm Mark’s anxiety a bit. “Anyway, he’ll understand and accept it if he’s really meant to be working with you.” He check his phone and sighed. “It’s getting late. We should get ready for the shift. If you’re not changed back in time, I’ll pick Ethan up tomorrow morning.”

“Yeah, yeah, you’re right.” Mark ran a hand down his face before taking the short leather strap and heading to the bathroom. “You know the drill: let me out when I paw at the door.”

It was almost weird to Tyler. Seeing Mark so calm and almost casual about shifting, a stark contrast to how it ha been back in highschool.

Tyler had wanted to go on hunts - ‘they’re not hunts, Tyler, they’re called retrievals’ - with his parents for years. Catch the creature that was making problems. So when a werewolf or two was heard to be roaming Cincinatti, Tyler was eager to be the one to find one, prove himself. He didn’t succeed, but following the signs led him to someone else. A recently-bitten casual friend. Thomas had been there for Mark’s first frightening shift the night before, and Tyler offered his knowledge, help, and supplies for the second.

The Fischbach had looked so scared as the trio walked into the woods, the light fading with the sun. It was the only time they’d chained him up, since Tyler had no idea what ‘breed’ of werewolf he’d been bit by. Mark had gotten lucky. A class D, maybe C at worse. He didn’t keep much of his human self, but he didn’t becoming a killer either. The happy, bouncy wolf however, couldn’t take away the image of the teenager, chained to a tree, eyes wide and a cloth in his mouth the only thing to muffle his screams as the change happened.

Tonight, however, there were no screams. Just pained grunts accompanied by the creaking of bones and eventually a pawing at the door. The werewolf that bounded out was excited, always happy to see people, and Chica - who had been waiting by the door - attempted to tackle the far bigger canine.

Tyler didn’t go into the family business, never asked to go on retrievals again. The people affected had become almost too real to him.

oOo

Ethan had been over at Mark’s since about 10:00 am, Tyler and Mark walking him through the basics of the equipment used and such. They took a break around 1:00 pm for lunch - a few sandwiches - and then Mark went to work recording while the other editor, Kathryn, showed the blue-haired boy how she usually edited and her friend Amy played with Chica. Eventually both left, leaving Ethan to get the handle of the equipment getting to know Tyler a bit more.

“Hey, Ethan?” Ethan looked up from his editing. “There’s one more thing Mark and I wanted to ask you to help us with.”

“Yeah, sure.” Ethan stretched. Just another thing to add to the pile. It was a bit intimidating, having all of this thrown at him at once, but he was sure he’d get used to it quickly enough.

“... it’s really fine if you don’t want to do it.” Tyler sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s a really, weird thing to ask I guess?”

“Well I can’t really turn you guys down if you don’t tell me what it is.” Ethan set his headphones to the side and spun completely around to face Tyler.

“Mark and I were wondering if you were willing to me take care of him once a month.” Tyler wasn’t meeting his eyes, a sort of grimace on his face.

“What?” Ethan shook his head slightly, as if the words would make more sense if mixed around.

“Mark has this… condition, where he really should have somebody watching over him a few nights a month, and I was wondering if you wanted to help me out.”

“What is it?” Ethan had never heard about it, but then again despite the info one can find on the internet, Mark’s entire life wasn’t for display.

“Ethan, there’s no other way to say it.” Mark entered the room, and he stared him right in the eyes. “I’m a werewolf.”

“... did you guys really think I was going to fall for that?” Ethan snorted, shaking his head slightly.

“... no, I guess not.” Tyler admitted. “It’s getting late. I’ll give you a ride home. You did good today, I think we’re gonna make a good team.”

“Thanks.” Ethan grinned at the praise. “I kinda want to walk back to my apartment though. It’s probably a good idea if I know the way.”

“Okay, see ya tomorrow.”

The night was cool, refreshing even, and Ethan couldn’t help but to grin. It was like a dream, being able to work with such amazing people, being a part of something.

A few minutes into his walk, he heard feet running up behind him.

“Hey! Ethan!” Mark was running towards him, and Ethan stopped to allow the other youtuber the chance to catch up.

“Everything okay?” He asked, cocking his head to the side curiously.

“Listen, it’s probably not a good idea to be out and about alone, and you’ve only been in LA like a day, why don’t you just stay at my place tonight?” Mark offered, a smile Ethan would almost call shy gracing his features. “And then tomorrow, maybe we can head to your apartment and help you get set up?”

Ethan contemplated it.

He never got the chance to reply.

Mark gasped, suddenly jerking forward and landing with a thud on his knees, a hand flying to his back and touching his spine.

“Mark…?” Ethan hesitantly took a step towards him. Mark made a pained noise and attempted to get back to his feet. When he failed at that, he started to crawl on his hands and knees until he was against the wall of the closest building, in the shadows. “Mark, are you okay?”

“YeaaaaAAAAAGHK-” Mark started and cut off sharply, face screwed up tightly.

What followed was a sound that made Ethan’s insides churn. An old grinding and creaking sound like he’d never heard before. He could do nothing but stare, watching Mark’s bones warp and shift underneath the skin, Mark himself fidgeting, teeth clenched tightly to hold back as much noise as he could.

After Ethan had no idea how much time, but was probably less than the eternity it seemed to be, Mark stopped moving. But he wasn’t really Mark anymore. Mark wasn’t covered in fur and on all fours. The beast that the man had become got onto his four feet, shaking its pelt and sniffing the air curiously. Bright golden eyes landed on Ethan, sizing him up, and before he could react the beast bounded towards him, two giant paws nocking into his shoulders and sending him to the ground.

His brain stopped working as he looked up and was met with those animalistic eyes looking right back. The monster opened his maw, revealing fangs that were sharp and stood out clearly against the black fur… and then proceeded to slobber all over Ethan’s face.

“H-hey, hey, c’mon, let me breath,” Ethan pushed against Mark’s (?) face until he was finally able to shimmy his was out from under the, well, apparently werewolf. For second it looked like the canine was going to pounce on him once more, but instead Mark just hopped around excitedly, walking in tight circles around Ethan and sniffing every inch of him. “So… how do I get you home?”

As it turned out, it was night impossible to make a giant werewolf do what you wanted it to do - go figure - and Ethan just had to do his best attempting to push/call Mark in the direction of his home while also keeping him from being distracted.

“Mark!” Relief flooded Ethan at the sound of Tyler’s voice, and Mark immediately bounded over to his friend. “Oh thank God he wasn’t far.”

“... so, you weren’t joking then.” Ethan awkwardly shuffled over to the two.

“Yeah, no, we weren’t.” Tyler sighed. “Mark’s a werewolf. Has been for over ten years. Now come on, let’s get home before some Retrievers try ‘save’ you.” Tyler walked off, and Mark followed after with little cajoling. Tyler gestured for Ethan to follow. “Come on, you must have loads of questions and I’m the perfect guy to answer them.”

When they were back at Mark’s the door locked and the werewolf checking out Chica, Tyler got out a beer and filled Ethan a glass of water before sitting down at the kitchen table. And he explained.

He didn’t ask for Ethan’s help again.

Ethan was there the night before the full moon anyway.

[chocobroness]

Hope you like it!

I really hope you enjoy it, if you do, please reblog!

____

When Belva had woken up this, she assumed that things would be the same as always.

She had been, for the past several months, making the crown prince fall for her.

She, just like many girls, had been admiring him since the start of high school. He was handsome, polite, hardworking. He was what every girl wanted, and today, she would get what she wanted.

She had planned this since the start of 2nd year, slowly getting closer to him. Greeting him, being his partner during class assignments. Asking him to hang out after school, even though he always turned it down, which was alright because he probably had royal business to attend to.

He was quiet, preferring to listen rather then speak, but that added to his charm.




The other girls were jealous of her and she knew it.

After all, she was the only girl in the school who had the courage to talk to him so much. She decided, after several weeks of getting close to him, that she would finally admit her feelings. She had already asked him to meet her behind the school after classes.




She could already imagine it. He would be so touched by her heartfelt confession that he would embrace her tightly, quietly admitting his own feelings, before giving her a gentle kiss.

It would be so romantic. So perfect. She couldn’t wait for them to be together.

Everything should have gone perfectly.




Today she planned on confessing her feelings to the prince.

What she hadn’t planned on doing was waking up tied to a chair.




She had been disoriented at first, her mind foggy. When she opened her eyes she only saw fabric in her vision. she tried to make a sound only for it to come out muffled, slowly, she realized she had been gagged. She had started to push against her bindings as her mind began to clear, trying to loosening her restraints, but found that she was secured tightly to the chair.She was starting to become scared.




She stilled immediately when she suddenly heard faint footsteps in the distance.

Footsteps that were getting louder as they drew closer.

She wanted to struggle more but forced herself to go limp, not wanting whoever took her to know she was awake.

She heard a door open and close. She heard something drop on the floor before the footsteps continued until they stopped right in front of her.

She wanted to whimper but did her best to feign unconsciousness. She then heard a faint click but the stranger didn’t move at all. She started to wonder whether they would leave soon, when…

*SLAP*

“MHMPF!!”

She was startled into crying out from the sudden smack to her thigh.

“Ahhhh~!! So you WERE awake~!!” came a male voice full of laughter.

“You nearly had me there you know! I gotta say, you sure were heavy to carry, I’m not much of a lifter actually, more a runner to be honest.”




Having been found out, she quickly began struggling again. Making as much noise as she could, despite being gagged.




“Hey now, no need for that! You’ll hurt yourself if you keep struggling!” He placed his hands on her shoulders to try to keep her still. It only made her struggle more. She only stopped when he tightened his gripe on her to a painful degree.




“See? That wasn’t so hard now, was it?” He patted her shoulders once and moved them to her head.




“Let me take that off for you hm?” The blindfold were removed, Belva closed her eyes as the light hit her. opening them carefully when they started to adjust, they soon widened at the sight of the smiling face of her apparent kidnapper.




“Hey Sleepyhead!” Came the cheerful greeting.

‘Pr….Prompto….?’

He was well known for being the prince’s close friend, always around him at school. He was a cheerful guy, never seen without that camera of his. It had been difficult trying to get close to the prince with him around, but she managed to always have a distraction ready for him until one day he kept his distance, even being absent from school several times. It had upset the prince for a while but nothing else was done about it.




He was the one who kidnapped her?

He hummed a happy tone and moved to sit down on the chair in front of her. She looked around and saw that she was in some kind of basement.




“Yeah, we’re in my basement. Cliche, I know, but it’s better then a bedroom.” He laughed. “You would have gotten the wrong idea there.”




She stared at him, confusion shining in her eyes. He laughed a little bit more.

“I bet you’re wondering why you’re here, hm?”

Nervously, she nodded.

Prompto leaned back against the chair, arms crossed and closed his eyes, as if he was lost in thought.

“Weeell….the reason is….” he started, looking back at her with a bigger smile. “I had to stop you of course!!”

She was confused, and she made a noise to show she was.

“I bet you’re now wondering, ‘what mistake Prompto?‘” He snickered. “Weeeell, the biggest mistake of your life obviously!” He threw his arms up in the air as if to signify the importance of what he was saying.




It didn’t make things any clear for her.

“Hm? Still don’t understand?” Prompto chuckled. “Well It’s quite simple. I stopped you from making the mistake of asking Noct out of course!”

She felt the hairs on her arms rise up as his smile seemed to stretch abnormally across his face.

“Doing that is a big no no, you know? Because it would mean you’re trying to take him from me.” Came the cold reply, Prompto’s face never changing expression.




She stared at him, feeling cold all of a sudden. He just continued to smile at her as if he didn’t just say that.




*CLICK*




She flinched as Prompto suddenly laughed loudly.




“Man, that’s perfect!” He held up his camera and showed her the photo he took. She leaned back as far as she could. “Don’t be shy! We’re friends!”

She rapidly shook her head, making muffled sounds of disagreement, only to tense up when he frowned and stared back at her with wide eyes.

”If we’re not friends, than we’re enemies.”

He quickly went back to smiling after saying that, she let out a small whimper as he looked back at at his camera, humming while shuffling through his pictures.

“Noct is my best friend you know. My only friend really. Someone I love and treasure greatly. Whom I would do ANYTHING for and I just can’t have some random chick come in and try to take him from me.” He chuckled and looked back at her.




“So I have to make sure that the girls that attempt this, understand what I would do for him.” He waved his camera at her.

“You think you’re the first?”




She started to panic at those words. She screamed through her gag, struggling and making as much noise as possible, making him lean back in his chair and sigh, his gaze shifting towards the ceiling.

“Jeez, just can’t talk with girls.” he muttered to himself, shaking his head.

“Alright Alright, calm down.” He waves a hand at her. “After all, how can I remove your gag if you keep screaming?”

After some time, She slowly began to quiet down, more from exhaustion then anything else.

After a few moment of silence, Prompto reached over and removed her gag, tossing the cloth over his shoulder.

“….Why are you doing this?” She asked, unsure of whether she was allowed to or not.

He looked at her in amusement.

“I told you, to keep you from making a terrible mistake.”

“But I don’t understand WHY it’s a mistake!”

“Just because you don’t understand doesn’t mean it isn’t a mistake. “

“But WHY did you kidnap me?!”

“To keep you from making that mistake.”

She screamed in frustration as the conversation went in circles.

He just continued to sit there, looking amused.

She took a few moments to think before looking back at him again.

“What did you mean I wasn’t the first?” She decided to ask, hoping to get a clear answer.

“Oh this used to happen a lot, so many girls asking him out, it was driving him mad!” He sighed.

“And since I couldn’t get rid of ALL of them, I decided to focus on the ones that really pushed into his boundaries. You’d be surprised how many back off when the more confidant ones disappear.”

She felt a chill when he mentioned getting rid of the girls. Not wanting to think about what that implied.

“H…How did you get rid of them?” He hummed for a moment.

“It’s tricky depending on the girl you know? Especially the ones with overprotective parents and clingy friends. BUT I was persistent, ended up having to use a LOT of methods to succeed though….”

“Methods..?”

“Apparently blond, blue eyed skinny boys with an innocent face appeal to a lot of older guys, who knew?” He shrugged. “Just had to do a few small…favors and they were willing to do what I wanted.”

She felt sick to her stomach at what he implied. She knew exactly what he meant by ‘small favors’. He went that far…?

“You’re disgusting.”

He raised an eyebrow at her. “Hey, I don’t like what YOU do to get better grades but you don’t see me calling you a slut.”

Her face flushed red at his words.

“How did you….?!”

“ANYWHO, so long story short, I keep the people that want to use Noct away and make sure they STAY away. No exceptions.”

“But that doesn’t explain why you kidnapped me!” He grinned at her.

“Didn’t you hear me? I make sure that the people who want to use Noctis go away and make sure they STAY away.” He leaned closer to her, his grin widening. “No. Exceptions.” She could feel her heart start pounding as the words registered in her head.

“W-w-wait…”

“Welp, enough talk.” He slapped his hands on his lap and stood up.

She watched as he walked back to the door, and reached down into his bag, putting his camera away and grabbing something else from the bag.

It was a metal bat.

The blood drained from Belva’s face as he kicked his chair away and approached her with the bat.

“Y-You don’t have to do this!”

“I don’t wanna do it.” He said with a sad smile on his face. “But I need to keep you away from Noct, having you around would just make him uncomfortable. Just can’t have that, you know.”

“I-I won’t bother him anymore! I won’t talk to him ever again!!”

He laughed.

“Even if you did, you caused all the other girls in school to want to step forward and try to win the prince’s heart. Do you have ANY idea how much work you gave me?” He sighed, scratching his head. “I won’t have any time to spend with Noct! He’s gonna feel lonely because of you!”

“I already said I wouldn’t bother him again, what more do you want?!”

“For you to stop breathing.”

She flinched at the cold reply and whimpered.

“I already told you that you aren’t the first person I’ve done this too. You HONESTLY think that I haven’t had this same conversation before?”

“But I don’t want to die!”

He shrugged with a closed eye grin.

“I don’t want Noct to feel unhappy. Sadly, it seems only one of us gets what they want.”

“He’ll hate you if you do this!!!”

Prompto laughed mockingly at her. “He hasn’t hated the other deaths, why would he hate me for yours?”

The panic she felt finally reached its limit.

“HELP ME, SOMEBODY!!!” She screamed, pulling against the rope that bound her to the chair as he continued to point and laugh at her.

“That’s the same thing the others said too! Tough luck though! No one can hear ANYTHING from the basement! Trust me, I know!”

“HELP!!!”

“Scream until your throat is sore, it won’t work.” He chuckled.

“ But seriously, stop before I make you.”

That shut her up quickly.

“Someone will find out.” She said, trembling. “They’ll look for me!”

Prompto smiled at her, eyes full of pity. “I repeat, you wouldn’t be the first.” He shook the bat at her.

“I’m honestly going to make it quick! I’ve learned from the past! a strong swing and you’ll be out! I’ll even make sure not to disfigure you! I’m a nice guy like that.”

Belva looked him in absolute shock, her mouth hanging open at his very words.

“Y…you’re absolutely INSANE.” He shrugged.

“Anything for Noct.” He raised the bat.

“W-Wait!!”

He groaned and dropped the bat.

“I-I still want to know why you’re so dedicated to doing this for the prince!”

“I told you, I do this for Noct. NOT the crown prince.”

“They’re the same person!”

He shook his head.

“No, the crown prince is the person he shows to the world. But NOCT is MY friend. My BEST friend.”

“You keep saying that but it sounds like you’re claiming him for yourself!”

“Eh, probably, but Noct probably feels the same way too. He must have missed me when I was absent from school! I couldn’t even see him on the weekends! I haven’t had time to even check my texts lately ether! I bet he left dozens of messages!!”

“No he didn’t!” She blurted out, making him stop his rant.

“….Excuse me?”

“H-He didn’t mention you at all! Not even for a moment! He didn’t ask about you! He didn’t care!!!” She said in a rush, hoping to keep him distracted.

“He…didn’t mention me at all?” He said after a moment of silence, looking at her wearily, uncertain whether to believe her.

“N-No! He just shrugged when the teachers asked him about you!”

“Noct…”

“He went about his day like you didn’t even exist!! Not a single word!! Why are you doing this for someone if they don’t even care for you?!” If she could just convince him that doing this wasn’t worth it, he’ll be more likely to let her go.

“He…didn’t say a single….?”

“Prompto he’s just using you! He’s just….” She trailed off as she saw the expression on his face.

“He really….didn’t….?”

“P……Prompto…?”

“Oh Noct…~”

He looked so deliriously happy.

“He really didn’t mention me once, not once?” His lips pulled into a twitchy smile. “ I bet he didn’t say a word to Ignis and Gladio either. if I looked at my messages there most likely wouldn’t be a single one from him….” He giggled, his face flushing red.

“He must have been so worried about me.” Belva was completely unnerved by his response to her words.

“B-But he was ignoring your existence!!! He didn’t even ask for you!!! He didn’t even check his phone for your texts! He made absolutely no sign that he was thinking about you!!”

That just made Prompto even happier.

“He really REALLY missed me!!” He wrapped his arms around himself, as if to contain the joy in his body”

“Noct….is a really shy one, if he’s worried about someone, he’ll keep it to himself for fear of making things awkward.” He giggled.

“He was so worried but just kept quiet because he was embarrassed! He’s such a sweetheart!” He sighed happily.

“I’m so glad he’s mine.”His smile turned into a smirk, his arms returning to his sides when he turned his attention back at the tied up young woman.

“And to think.” He chuckled. “You tried to take him from me.”

Belva tried to push the chair back, only to whimper when she hit the end walls behind her.

“Do you have ANY idea how hard it was, watching you near him?” He rubbed his face.

“How much I wanted to push you away from him and make sure you STAYED away from him. I wanted you DEAD.”

Her breathing sped up when Prompto swung the bat in front of her, barely missing her nose.

“I wanted to make an example of you. To show everyone that wanted to take advantage of MY FRIEND that I was NOT going to tolerate it.”

He growled at her as her eyes began to water.

“You and every other worthless BITCH that tried to take MY best friend away from me.” He shook his head in disgust. “People like you need to pay the price for your mistakes.”

He faced her with a scowl.

“You tried to take Noctis away from me.” He tightened his grip on the bat. “I’ll make sure you NEVER get another chance to do that.”

”BUT HE’S NOT YOURS!!!” Belva screamed, the fear within her taking hold as tears started to stream down her face as she struggled.

“HE WAS MINE BEFORE HE WAS ANYONE ELSES!!!” He roared back at her, slamming the bat against the wall by her head, making her sob louder.

“Everyone wanted to be his friend because he was the prince, no other reason.” He hissed, making sure the bat was pressed against her head as he leaned close to her face.

“I wanted to get to know him, I wanted to be friends with him because he had the same eyes as me, eyes of someone wanting just ONE. TRUE. FRIEND. I wanted to show him that even when everyone wants him for his royal status, I was there for NOCTIS and not the PRINCE.”

He turned away from her, holding his head in his hand and taking deep breaths, trying to calm down, Belva was biting her lip in an attempt to hold back her sobs, her body shaking as she eyed the bat fearfully.

“You wanted Crown Prince Noctis Lucis Caelum.” He stated dully . “You wanted that fantasy romance that everyone young girl like yourself dreams about. You wanted to experience the excitement of dating a royal. But tell me Belva….” he turned to face her, his expression completely blank.

“What is his favorite thing to eat?” It took a moment for her to register what he said, she blinked, confused for a moment.

“H…his favorite thing to eat…?”

He nodded.

“Yup. What. Is. It?”

Her mind raced through everything she knew about the prince, trying to find the answer, only to realize she wasn’t sure.

“H-he…en..joys….. soup?” She answered with the first thing that popped into her mind, flinching when Prompto threw his head back and let out a high pitch laugh.

“S-Soup!? As in the thing that has VEGETABLES? He HATES vegetables!” He managed through his laughter.

“W-wait, lets try another! W-what’s his favorite thing to do?” He asked again, trying to hold back his laughter.

“U-Um..”

What’s his LEAST favorite thing to do?”

“I-It’s-“

“Where does he like to go after school?”

“Out of every vegetable, which one does he hate the absolute most?

“I t-think-“

“What does he prefer to do during lunch?”

“I-“

“How’s his relationship with his dad?”

“How close is he to his shield and advisor?”

What are his worst fears?”

“What are his greatest dreams?”

Prompto continued to ask these questions to Belva but never let her have a chance to answer. It wouldn’t have mattered even if he did because she didn’t have the answer to these questions.

“Shrk…you HONESTLY thought you had a chance with Noct when you didn’t even know the answer to those questions?”

He showed his teeth to her. It was not a smile; he made no movement to pretend it was.

“L-Like you know!” She blurted out suddenly, paling as her mind caught up with her mouth.

“Of COURSE I know!” He shook his head. “What kind of friend would I be if I didn’t?” He stared back at her as if she were an idiot for even asking.

“But YOU.” He moved closer to her again. The corners of his mouth twitching as she whimpered.

“You are just a little girl who thought she could sink her claws into the prince. Who thought that she would have the chance to finally get what she wanted, but there was one thing that stood in her way.”

He smiled softly. “She didn’t realize I was going to protect Noctis from people like her.” He raised a hand and stroked her cheek, not caring that she shuddered at his touch and tried to lean away.

“But it’s alright, she made a mistake and now she’s going to pay for it.” She looked at him with wide eyes as he spoke in a gentle voice, as if he wasn’t speaking about killing her.

“You understand how these things go. I know, I know that you didn’t mean for this to happen, that if you could take it back, you would. But we all have to live up to our mistakes.”

He tilted his head staring directly into Belva’s eyes, an almost kind smile on his face. “And I know, given time, your family will also understand the price you needed to pay for this mistake.”

She froze at the mention of her family.

“So will your friends…” He continued. “…and our classmates…..maybe dear Noctis will understand too…” He pauses for a moment. “…well…if I ever tell him that is…” he tapped his chin in thought before shrugging.

“You d-don’t know a-anything about my f-family ….”

He looked at her with a blank expression for a moment before speaking in a flat tone.

“Belva Avitus, age 17. Daughter of Celia Avitus, age 36. A doctor at the local hospital. she’s deathly allergic to shellfish, she stays late at work, coming home in the early am I believe. Celia is the wife to Alvis Avitus, age 40. A manager at a well known clothing store, He has a history of heart problems, prefers taking public transport right? Belladon Avitus, age 12. Your little sister goes to the middle school near your house am I correct? I believe she even skipped a grade too! And she’s very independent, walking herself everywhere! I’m very impressed.”

Belva began to sweat as each word left his lips. Information that no one other then her family knew. If he knew…

Then all those days he was absent were because he was….

“Please…” she whispered brokenly.

“Hm..?”

“I’ll do anything…just please don’t hurt them.” He watched her again, the bat dangling from his hand.

“Anything hm?” He looked thoughtful, his tongue peeking out as he twirled the bat in his hand.

“I wasn’t actually going to do anything but that’s a good idea.” Her heart stopped.

“W-What…?”

“It’ll be tricky though, “ He said to himself.

“Gotta decide who to grab first. Hmm…Who would be noticed faster?”

She shook her head. “No, wait-!”

“I think I’ll grab your mom, she’s normally not seen for several days because of her busy schedule so no one would notice her go-“

“No!”

“I mean I could grab your sister, she comes back from her friend’s place at 5 right? I think I still have some chloroform left…” He started to make his way to his bag, already making plans for the arrival of his new guests.

“LEAVE THEM ALONE YOU PSYCHOTIC MURDERER!!” He turned back to her, eyes wide in shock at her heated scream.

“Belva, calm down.”

“CALM DOWN? CALM DOWN?! YOU’RE THREATENING MY FAMILY AND YOU’RE TELLING ME TO CALM DOWN?!” In her anger, she struggled against her restraints, trying to reach him.

“YOU’RE NOTHING MORE THAN AN UNSTABLE FREAK WHO LATCHED ON TO THE PRINCE BECAUSE YOU WERE LONELY! YOU JUST WANT HIM ALL TO YOURSELF, I BET YOU WOULD GO AND KILL HIS DAD JUST SO HE WOULD NEED SOMEONE TO COMFORT HIM!”

“Whoa lady, I would NEVER betray Noct like that, you got some weird thoughts in your head!” He argued back, but she ignored him, too enraged to care about her safety, struggling so much that her chair was in danger of tipping over.

“THE PRINCE WILL FIND OUT, HE WILL FIND OUT ABOUT EVERYTHING YOU’VE DONE AND HATE YOU!!”

He flinched at her words, looking at her with wide eyes again.

“He won’t hate me.”

“YES HE WILL! HE’LL NEVER TRUST YOU AGAIN, HE’LL NEVER LOVE YOU, HE’LL NEVER LOOK AT YOU, HE’LL LEAVE YOU TO ROT!!!!!”

His hand tightened around the bat. “He won’t.”

“HE’LL HATE YOU, I BET HE ALREADY HATES YOU, JUST TOLERATING YOU AND WISHING YOU WERE GONE ”

“Shut up, he DOESN’T.”

“HE HATES YOU! HE HATES YOU JUST LIKE EVERYONE ELSE DOES!!”

“He DOESN’T!” He held his head in his hand, body trembling.

“HE HATES YOU! HE HATES YOU!HE HATES YOU! HE HATES YOU!”

“HE. DOES. NOT!!!!” He screamed at her.

“HE HATES YOU!! HE HATES YOU!! HE HAT-“ Pain quickly replaced the anger and hatred that had filled her voice.

Prompto was breathing heavily, not removing his bat from where he smashed it on her left hand.

“He…doesn’t…hate…me.” He whispered out.

“He…will…NEVER…hate me…” he pressed the bat down, looking as she cried out at the pain.

“I will…NEVER abandon him” He stepped back, raising the bat up and gripping it with both hands, her fear renewed at the realization of what was going to happen.

“N-no…no no nononononono..” Belva shaking her head rapidly.

“Everything I do….”

“P-Please! PROMPTO PLEASE DON’T DO THIS!!!”

“Everything is for him.”

“I DON’T WANT TO DIE!!!”

“SHUT UP!!!!”

He swung the bat, hitting her square in the jaw.

“IT WAS ALWAYS FOR HIM!!!!” He screamed out, ignoring her screams and pleads as he raised it again and brought it down with more force on her face, not reacting to the spray of blood.

“Everything I do is for Noctis!” Another hit. Her nose is broken.

“Every last action!” Another hit. Her left eye is swelling fast.

“NO MATTER HOW DISGUSTING!!” Another hit. She lost some of her teeth.

“Is for Noctis!” Another hit. Only sobs.

“Not for the prince of Lucis.” Another hit. Her head snaps to the left.

“Not for the son of the king.” Another hit. Her jaw is hanging opening now.

Not for the poster boy of the royal family.” Another hit. Her right eye is rolling back into her skull.

“Not for Noctis Lucis Caelum.” Another hit. Only low gurgling comes out.

“But for Noctis himself!” Another hit. Nothing but the continuous sound of metal hitting flesh is heard.

“Not his family name nor his status.” Another.

“But for MY BEST FRIEND!” Another.

“Not yours.” Another.

“MINE.” Another.

“And you.” Another.

“Have.” Another.

“No.” Another.

“Right.” Another.

“To.” Another.

“EVER.” Another.

“Say.” Another.

“OTHERWISE!!!!” Another.

“Never!!” Another.

“Never!!” Another.

“NEVER!!!” Another.

Another.

A n o t h e r.

… …

When he finally stopped, she had been dead for a while, he was panting heavily, body shaking from the effort he used.

He looked at his classmate, or rather, what used to be his classmate. Her face was beyond recognition at this point from how long he swung at her.

He looked down at his hands and saw the blood covering both his hands and the bat, the once warm life liquid traveling down the stained bat, falling into the large pool of red that was created from his actions with a loud ‘plop’.

He was still for a moment longer before slowly loosening his hold, letting the bat slip through his fingers, the sound it made as it hit the wet floor was sharp and loud, echoing in the silent room.

He continued to look at his red hands, looking at the very thing that helped keep his classmate alive just a little while ago.

He looked at it, as if trying to burn the image of his hands into his mind. He continued to look at it until, suddenly, his eyes began to blur.

“Wha……?”

Prompto reached up and touched the warm liquid that began running down his cheeks, pulling back to stare at his hand, surprise almost coloring the motion.

“I’m…crying….” He stated in a almost surprised tone as he looked back at his former classmate.

He could feel the warmth trail down his cheeks as he looked at her.

His shoulders began trembling slightly, he slowly covered his mouth, bowing his head, the trembling increasing with each moment, the strangled intake of breath heard clearly in the silent room.

The sound was quiet at first, similar to a small squeak but it grew, it grew until it filled the very room Prompto was in, bouncing off the walls and washing over him as, before long, Prompto was bending over and holding his own stomach as his laughter grew louder and louder.

An arm wrapped around his stomach while his other hand gripped his hair as he continued to laugh.

“Y-Your words a-actually…ACTUALLY shook me!!!” Prompto continued to convulse with hysterical mirth, tears streaming down his face as he laughed for what seemed like a very long time before he finally started to quiet down. Lifting his head and looking at the corpse with a uncomfortably wide grin.

“You managed to land a hit, congratulations.” He than shook his head.

“But still….you…” he chuckled, cracking his neck as he straightened up.

“You really were a nuisance.”

He slowly made his way to his bag, reaching in to pull out his camera.

He stood back in front of her and carefully took a few shots of her at different angles. He gave a smile as he looked at the photos he took.

“You were someone who was arrogant enough to try to claim what’s mine.” He turned away from the body and headed towards the door, leaving the clean up for later, getting rid of an entire family was an annoyance. But it wouldn’t be the first time he had to do that. He had to tell Noct he was gonna be busy for a few weeks.

“But just like everyone else that tried, you’re now nothing more then a bunch of photos on my camera screen.

He grinned widely, giggling as he opened the door and walked away from the room.

The door closed, hiding the scene behind him with a quiet click.

—-

(please reblog! Thank you for reading! And PLEASE, tell me what needs to be improved and what you liked about it!)

[legendofgrump]

OC Breakdown: Your Guide to Which Fucked Up Dorks to Love and Which Ones to Hate

This is gonna be a looooong post but if you’re interested in my OCs then buckle up because I think you might like it! I’m just gonna give you guys some little blurbs about who’s who, since I’ve gotten a ton of new people that seem to be interested since the last time I explained it. Under a cut because sheer length~

Firefly: Origin from an old Grump AU that turned into an OC, hence why he looks so much like Dan. He’s a harbinger of death who hosts lost souls in the form of fireflies and tries to help them move on to the afterlife by helping them accomplish whatever unfinished business they have. He’s very helpful and unselfish, but doesn’t take great care of himself. Luckily, he’s immortal so he can get away with it more than others can. But that doesn’t excuse the fact that he! needs! sleep!

Marianne: A big, 6′4″ spider-creature with one eye and four arms. She’s very animal-like, like a big doggo that loves to be petted. She kiiiind of feeds off of humans usually, but she’s curbed that for other meats since she became a part of normal human society. Now the biggest danger to you is the possibility that she might eat your entire garden. She’s very strong and fast, but also was kicked out of her homeland because of some heavy manipulation by someone she considered a friend. Now she kind of has trust issues with both others and herself.

Melanie “Snail” Rose: Literally never call them Melanie. It’s their birthname but they would immediately tense up if you called them that. Mostly because they left the name behind because 1) Too Girly and 2) it’s the name they went by when they were in a shitty abusive relationship with their last boyfriend. But then they chopped all their hair off, changed their name, and moved far away so that they could get away from that guy, so they’re much happier now. Plus, I mean, they’re a Sick freelance artist now which is their dream. Also a memelord with a massive sex drive.

Andy the Android: Originally named “Flirtbot3000″ and created by some shut-in nerds that think of women as objects, they were designed to literally be like a human sex doll. But I mean, they’re a robot, so they’re not actually human. You get the idea. But somewhere along the line, that went haywire, Andy had a massive glitch and lapse of memory, fell in love with a backwater bumfuck farmboy named Daniyal and essentially turned into a happy housewife. They love cooking and clothes and just making things Pretty, but are also lowkey the Mom Friend. Like they get Baby Fever really easily and love love love children.

Beauregard “Bo” Gray: One half of the Partners In Crime, Bo came from an affluent household and became a rebellious college kid just looking for a thrill. He got super into alcohol and partying way before he really should have and got tied up with this small chick named Esky. He gets into robbery and gunmanship just for the thrill of it and also because he totally falls in love way too easily. A dumb alcoholic that just loves love, basically. He tries his best, but sometimes he’s too posh for his own good.

Esky Clarke: The other half of the Partners In Crime. She lived a rough life until she decided to take matters into her own hands. She lives off of whatever she steals and travels the world trying not to get caught by police. She’s a self-taught gunner and pretty ruthless because she believes it’s either fight for what you need, or get nothing. But she still knows how to have a good time and loves to fuck around with people by hustling them in gambling or something.

Venus Milo Cordette: Venus is an alien from outerspace that came to Earth for an adventure and ended up becoming an international pop star. She tries her best to keep the fact that she’s an alien under wraps by hiding her third eye under her bangs and pretending that her unnatural skin tone is extreme dedication and body paint. But she’s also very unknowledgeable about the world around her, so she often fucks up things that any human would know (i.e. where she’s from). She’s kinda goofy, but super sweet and lovable, and very much cares about the people that are nice to her. She’s super curious and loves to learn new things about the Earth, but sometimes she has trouble retaining it.

Bailey Ames: A nonbinary buttkicker. Bailey is here to kick ass if you fuck with anyone they care about. Or if you’re just a general dick. Not afraid to punch an asshole for catcalling them. Loves their two girlfriends to death and has been with them both since high school. They’re a hair stylist at the local salon, but they also absolutely adore painting, especially landscapes and abstract pieces. They’re the type of person that will say hi to you if you look lonely at the bus stop and to start conversations by asking for your pronouns.

Megan Blackwell: She looks like your typical valley girl, and sounds like one, too, but she’s too busy getting her PhD in Quantum Physics to give a shit what you think about it. She’s overworked and can only afford college because of the tons of scholarships and the work study she takes on, but she’s not the type to give up even if it seems impossible. She’d much sooner chug 8 energy drinks and stay up until 6am finishing that paper than admit defeat. She’s typically very cold to warm up to people, but she’s very loving once she does and a very affectionate person who likes to be touchy. Also one of Bailey’s girlfriends.

Nikki Osborne: Bailey and Megan’s girlfriend that completes the trifecta of Polybabes. She dropped out of high school to become a rockstar because she believed in her little garage band of her friends. (The band is called Death Kittens, by the way.) The fact that she feels like she’s let a lot of people down by dropping out only pushes her forward in trying even harder and making things succeed. She’s the bassist, and by day she works a shitty minimum wage job to make sure she’s not mooching off her girlfriends. She’s a generally chill and relaxed person unless she’s majorly stressed out, but she’ll usually lock herself away if that happens.

Leanna “Cookie” Lewis: A cute, sheepy, trans boy that lived with just his mom growing up. He learned everything he knows from her, which is great, because he loves his mom more than anything. His favorite pass time is baking, especially pastries, and he’s a real whiz in the kitchen, but he’s also pretty talented at playing the ukulele. He’s very shy and anxious and prefers to stay out of confrontation, which is why he usually flocks toward more confrontational extroverts to keep him safe (though he doesn’t do it on purpose). He works as a little barista at a coffee shop, which wouldn’t be so bad if his coworkers weren’t actual assholes.

Blythe Abilene: Blythe is the Goddess of Illusions and lovingly refers to herself as “Aphrodite, but with the body of Adonis” since she’s trans. She’s pretty confident in herself, mostly because she’s literally a God among mortals, and sometimes it gets a little out of hand. For the most part though, she’s just a professional prankster, who loves to torture mortals with what she calls “Fun Houses,” where she essentially turns their home into a cacophony of small inconveniences. Anything from “can’t open your underwear drawer” to “coffee pot full of butterflies” to “all furniture moved one inch to the left” is fair game, but nothing too threatening.

Cleona Arkan: She’s an avid inventor, aiming to invent AI technology that’s better than ever. But she doesn’t always go through....legal means. Which just makes her a little bit paranoid about getting caught because she knows she’ll be detained and, more important, her inventions taken from her and used for who-knows-what. She’s very talented with computers and robotics alike, even going so far as to invent Glitch who, though not a success, is still pretty successful at other things. She’ll also help patch up Andy from time to time, if they need a little tune-up.

Maxim: A demon meant to take advantage and feed off of mortal anxieties. He lives on the other side of your mirror and takes advantage of that. He’s the most irredeemable asshole to ever exist and he takes pride in that. He’s so narcissistic that you couldn’t possibly hurt his feelings with words or remarks about his personality because he thinks he’s amazing. Though he is susceptible to well placed punches. He’s not above using anything against you, whether it be slurs or just subtle jabs at whatever you’re most sensitive about. Just the worst.

Gigi Moore: Based on old 50′s Disney cartoon style. She’s meant to be from the past, where things were much Different than they are now. She’s a bit of an antithesis to Maxim, as she’s also susceptible to saying things that aren’t Acceptable, but she tries to learn from them when she’s corrected. She used to be a 50s housewife to her husband before she ended up where she is now, but comes to find out she’s actually a very repressed lesbian. At first she has a hard time coming to terms with it, but being around positive influences helps her to learn and better herself and actually accept herself for who she is.

The Glitch: Cleona’s invention. She’s got an old CRT monitor for a head and four arms, but, as exemplified by her name, she doesn’t exactly do what she’s supposed to. She was designed to be a cleaning robot, made perfectly for cleaning up anything and everything. Except....she’s not waterproof and, the first time Cleona tried to get her to do some dishes, she got water in her circuits and it made her flip out. She’s constantly having an identity crisis and just wants to be useful, but honestly she’s not sure how to do it since she can’t do what she was made for.

Rory of Rine: Rory was born in some kind of Legend of Zelda, High Fantasy bullshit land in a village full of normal people. Except that he’s a special person who was born with the unfortunate ability to see how someone will die the first time they touch him. For the longest time it plagued him, but eventually he fessed up and told his grandmother about it. The two of them tried to get him help, but it only served to make his village angry and fearful, gouging out his eyes and then chasing him out of the village. So for many years he lived on his own, raising cows peacefully and coming to terms with himself. And now he’s slowly learning to not repress things as he dates Daniyal (along with Andy, it’s a poly thing).

Ellie Ross: She’s an empath with a strong need for attention and affection. She only feels worth for herself if someone else is validating her, so she constantly craves other people’s love, which is how she falls into Maxim’s hold for the longest time. She does a lot of questionable things that aren’t necessarily good, but all she’s looking for is to feel good about herself. She’s also got the ability to briefly manipulate people’s emotions, which helps in making people like her, but it only holds for so long unless she actively holds them herself.

Diana “Wolf” Lowell: A trans boy werewolf with a tragic past. He’s on a path of vengeance to find the person who killed his beloved Fang. Maxim promises him the chance to get that person if Wolf helps him out some, so of course he agrees. He’s driven by anger and angst, but ultimately just wants closure and to feel Okay again. He’s overly aggressive and, well honestly, more of a lycan than a werewolf, since he can transform at will. But I call him a werewolf so.

Ant: Ant is but ten years old and fell into Maxim’s grasp because they didn’t have anything else and he was all they really knew. They weren’t raised in the best of conditions (and honestly they weren’t “raised” at all), so they’re constantly caked in dirt and grime and blood. Which, honestly, they’ve grown used to and now it’s just familiar to them. Their use for Maxim comes from their ability to communicate and summon ants--hence the name--the best part being that those ants can then form a larger, rideable ant, which Ant has named Leafcutter, very creatively. They’re a bit wild, but just generally an actual Child, where they like to have fun and feel loved and useful.

Lyar (of Quadrant 85439): The son of a diplomat that absolutely hates politics. More specifically, an alien boy that is meant to take over the job after his father passes it down to him. He’s been groomed all his life to take over the position and become the next voice for his people, but he absolutely hates it. Not to mention, he’d be horrible for the job considering he’s a compulsive liar with no desire to be kind to anyone who has nothing to offer him. He’s more interested in fashion and, essentially comes to Earth to get away from his family. He doesn’t have a mouth, so his main mode of communication is ASL, which he learned as part of his training to communicate with other planets. (He knows roughly 8,000 different languages, though not all of them Well.)

Arthur “Artie” Jackson: A simple boy with a simple dream to become a world famous hockey player. Except it took him the longest time to realize he was gay and now he’s Really Nervous About It. His best friend Jade, who used to be his girlfriend, is the only other person who really knows about it and he’d never dare to tell his team for fear of the repercussions. But he’s very dedicated to his sport and keeps dragging out his college years because he keeps getting offered scholarships if he stays “just one more year.” Also he drives a motorcycle which is super cool.

Adara of Derva: Adara is a faun who was raised in a simple village to a simple family. Except that a great evil was foretold for their village and their older sister, Jaya, would be the one to save it. Except Jaya was selfish and went off on an adventure before she could get the power necessary to do the saving, so Adara was saddled with her destiny instead. They were gifted magical fire powers from a local witch and trained to use them, but when the time came to defeat the beast, they couldn’t bring themselves to do it in time and their whole village was destroyed. They spent the rest of their life looking for a new place to settle down and trying to move past their own mistakes.

King Balthazar Leviarn III: He’s a young king, but a king nonetheless. His father died far too soon in a war for the kingdom and Balthazar took the throne, though his mother still assists him in governing. His mother is much more cold and dedicated to keeping things running smoothly and effectively, rather than doing what’s morally right, whereas Balthazar is a more caring and nurturing kind of guy. He likes to protect his people and wouldn’t hesitate to take the front lines in a war he believed in, just like his father had before him.

Dahlia Harrison: Dahlia is the lead guitarist in Nikki’s band Death Kittens. She’s the oldest of the four members, though only by a year and a half. While the other three are much more outward with their emotions, Dahlia is a more quiet and thoughtful type. That being said, if you make her mad, she has a cold fury that will literally ruin you from the inside out. The only person she’s overtly open and emotional with is her girlfriend Toshiko.

Toshiko Koizumi: Lead singer of Death Kittens and probably the least assuming one of the group. She’s very much into cutesy and sweet things more than typically punk things. And she definitely dresses as such, too. But the band happily accepts her and knows that she can lay down some sick bars about angsty emotions. She was born in Japan, but moved to America with her dad after her parents got divorced. She still has a great relationship with her mom, but they don’t get to see each other as often since she’s still in Japan. But she’s also a very extroverted and friendly girl that loves to chat to people about whatever they’re interested in, and she loves her girlfriend Dahlia to death.

Cynthia “Cynth” Woods: The very small, but very high energy drummer of Death Kittens. She’s the one that came up with the name and is constantly coming up with new ideas about the band in general. She’s probably the most actively dedicated (though none of the others are apathetic toward the band at all). She’s fiery and a bit prideful, but definitely deserves to be with how talented she is at her craft. She’s even perfected drumming with four drumsticks at once, as ridiculous as it sounds. Still, Cynth is a good and loyal friend that will stomp your organs in if you fuck with her or someone she cares about.

Lorna: Lorna is similar to Maxim in terms of origin. She also comes from the land behind your mirror, but she’s a personification of depression instead of anxiety. She’s much less aggressive, but also very compelling when it comes to convincing you that everything would be better if you just slept it all away (or worse). She’s extremely unmotivated to do things unless they adhere to some stupid impulse that may or may not be harmful to herself. But she’s a generally kind person who really just needs some love in her life. Unfortunately, the kind of love she doesn’t need is the massive crush Maxim has on her.

Ethan Parks: Ethan is one of Snail’s friends from art school. He was a graphic design major that lived for making things look clean and Super Cool. He was a little bit of a lazy ass when it came to college, waiting until the last minute on every project, but had that magical talent of making something amazing the night before every time. He’s a little bit goofy, but a good-hearted boy nonetheless, and loves to party and hang out with friends until late into the night.

Jack Hughes: Another one of Snail’s art friends. Jack was more interested in videography, cinematography, and performance art. He’s pretty shy and quiet off-camera, but once he’s got something to perform, he seems like a total extrovert. He’s not afraid to get the public involved in his pieces as well, even if it’s something really weird, but when he shows it off for critique or just because someone asked to see his work, he gets extremely shy and stutters a lot trying to explain it. He’ll definitely geek out about anything film related, especially when it comes to improv and camera work.

Kitty Dupree: Kitty is the resident studio major of the friend group. She loves painting and has always wanted to have her work in a gallery. She usually works with canvas and paint, but she’s definitely not shy about experimenting with different mediums. Her canvases tend to be HUGE and her materials can range from normal paint to literal blood, so all of her paintings are generally exciting to look at. Though she’s a big fan of abstract pieces, so don’t expect to find immediate meaning in them. She’s generally bubbly and affectionate, and lives life with the mindset of “friends until you’re a dick” right from the moment she meets you.

Jonah King: They were Snail’s roommate in college, and a totally great friend for them when they were going through a rough time. Jonah is a little softspoken, but otherwise outgoing and friendly! They’re an extremely talented sketch artist that fills sketchbook after sketchbook with gestures and people-watching studies. They’re almost always doodling, but also very attentive and good at listening. Jonah is just an all around great friend to have, honestly.

[lostinreveriefiction]

Fucking Do It Already! [Donald Pierce x Reader]

[Anon request: Donald Pierce / ‘Fucking do it already!’ with angst & pain.]

Warnings: Imprisonment & violence.

A/N: Related to these Donald Pierce requests too: 1 / 2 . Also, I was half sleeping when posting this. Please excuse mistakes. lovelove. 

The cold stone beneath your feet was more than familiar, the distinct smell of the room too. Musty with a tint of sweat. This place had been your holding cell for weeks before, and you had landed yourself right back in it after mere days of freedom. It wasn’t your greatest idea to go after the people who had captured you so easily before. Still, somewhere in your head you thought they wouldn’t bother with some tid-bit human attempting to free her Mutant friend. Honestly, you had hoped that they would’ve been more distracted on the things that matter, than to notice you skulking around their headquarters. It was insulting to have been so wrong again. For some reason, anything you did that involved this place, just did not succeed. It was built for someone like you to always fail…but you sure as hell tried.

Sitting in your favourite spot on the hard floor beneath you, you brought your knees to your chest, finding that it provided just as much comfort as it had done on your first visit to the place. A sigh escaped your lips as you realised that it surely had not been coincidence that you had been placed in the same cell. Oh no. This was all plotted out by the one man who had freed you in the first place.

“Ooh wee, I am having a good day, Fred. How ‘bout you?” You heard his voice echo from outside the cell and old memories flooded back. But something strange happened. Without even meaning to, you gussied yourself up as if to make yourself presentable for him. Blaming it on normal human instinct, you closed your eyes and listened in as he and the guard to your cell had a bit of back and forth.

“Can you believe who had graced us with their presence again, ol’ Freddie boy?” And with that statement, the door to your cell opened and Donald Pierced stepped into the room, the light shining from behind his silhouette, painting him like some juxtaposed saviour. “Can it really be?” He began, in his usual dramatic manner as he made his way across the room. “Do my eyes deceive me?”

“Please just stop,” you muttered, slightly annoyed at him now. For some reason, he was more irritating than you remembered. Then again, the last time you were there, you sat alone for hours, and any visitor was welcome company.

“Be still my heart, it is you,” he gasped, kneeling down in front of you. “I gave you a dang business card, you know. You didn’t have to do all this to see me again, but I do appreciate it, baby.”

“You know I did not come back here to see you,” you spat, your tolerance level for him rapidly depleting.

“Come now, baby, don’t start getting all shy with me,” he cooed, grabbing your elbows and half pulling you to your feet. “Why don’t we take this to my room?”

“Fuck you!” You yelled, yanking out of his grip. “Where is she?!”

Donald’s hand snapped against your mouth as he pushed you up against the wall, his arm holding you in place as you wriggled, before his bionic hand gently gripped your throat. You stopped dead, not fully trusting that hand of his, for fear it would malfunction and snap your neck.

“Now I’m gonna need you to quit with that kind of shit, got it?” He whispered, his voice had lost its silkiness and was quite bitter now. “You, young lady, have gotten me into quite a bit of trouble, and I don’t need you causing me anymore.”

Hearing the door open behind the two of you, Donald quickly moved his hand and planted his lips against yours for a moment, before pulling away and looking to Fred.

“Nothing to worry about here, Fred. Just a little lover’s tiff,” he called and Fred closed the door again. Donald turned back to you and smiled, licking his lips. “Now, if you play along, I can get you out of here safe and sound, but-“

“I’m not leaving without her,” you warned, and Donald chuckled, shaking his head.

“That is not an option, darlin’, unless you plan on somehow gathering all them little particles of her ashes?”

The revelation he had just delivered made your blood run cold. You felt limp, almost as all the hope you had gathered for saving her, drained away and left you standing there, completely shocked. She was gone. They had taken her in and reduced her to nothing but ashes.

“You killed her,” you breathed, and Donald let go of your throat, but still held you against the wall with his leg.

“We had too. Broken merchandise, unfortunately. Little birdie broke her own wings, hoping we wouldn’t want her anymore.”

The way he spoke about her, like she was nothing more than an animal to be hunted. A collectible out of its packaging. The fact that your best friend had practically maimed herself to stop them from hurting her awoke a new emotion within you. The void were hope had resided, was flooded with pure anger. Your eyes met his as you let out a screech of anguish. Seizing the moment, you kicked his leg away and dashed across to the opposite side of the room, eyes steady on him as he chuckled to himself, adjusting his bionic arm.

“Jesus Christ, you know what? I should’ve just killed you when I had the chance,” Donald admitted, sighing at the inconvenience you were being.

“What are you waiting for then, huh? FUCKING DO IT ALREADY!” You yelled, opening your arms and awaiting whatever punishment he would deliver. You didn’t care, you’d go down fighting – and you’d definitely leave your mark.

“Don’t make me do this, (Y/N).” Donald looked to you, his face probably the most emotionally real you had ever seen on him.

“Why? You did it so easily to her. How am I any different?”

“You just are,” Donald barked, cracking his neck. “I do not know why, but when you were here the first time – I couldn’t stay away from you.”

“Because you needed information from me.”

“It was more than that. I had to do those things to you. I had to betray you, but I hope you know I never wanted to.”

“I DON’T CARE,” you cried, your heart bursting in your chest as you spat at him.  “You could declare your undying love for me right now, and I would not care. You are a monster. The worst of them all.  You kill with no remorse and you use and bend people to your will, even if they fully put their trust in you.

Donald stared at you for a moment, a look of utter sadness on his face before he crumbled into a laugh that made him double over.

“What do you think you’re going to achieve here?” He asked, still laughing.

With a growl, you ran forward and punched him as hard as you could across his face which knocked him backward. When he steadied himself, he spat out a mouthful of blood and turned back to you, his eyes akin to snakes.

“Well, that’s done it,” he warned, about to return the blow when his radio interrupted him.

‘PIERCE…THE FACILITY HAS BEEN BREACHED…GET OUT...EVERYONE ABANDON SHIP….THEY FOUND US.’

Donald looked to you as you stood there with a smile on your face. He shook his head and pointed at you with a wink as if to say ‘well done.’ Truth was you hadn’t planned this attack at all, but you had alerted a group of underground mutant rebels to your plan, and they had obviously concocted that you had been taken – thus sending in a rescue team.

“I tell you what,” Donald began as he walked to the door, banging on it for Fred to open it, but Fred hadn’t locked it in the first place. “You really were something else, (Y/N).”

“Donald,” you called, just as he was about to leave the cell. He looked back and arched a brow at you as you smiled up at him, before your face went more serious. “Run.”

[deathbyvalentine]

Yet Another Prompt Collection - Nosebleed Club Edition

Your Cousin’s Singed T-Shirt

There was blood on his shirt, a tear, and ash smeared down the back. There were only no tear stains because they haven’t fell from his cheeks yet. He won’t say what happened, but his knuckles are reddened, and his cheek is blooming in shades of purple.

It’s the third time this summer.

This town is too small for him. He works all day at the diner, flipping burgers for a few dollars an hour. He’s not going to college. When I ask him what he’s saving for, he says a rainy day with a wry smile. It never rains around here. The ground is nothing but dust and longing. It doesn’t even remember rain. 

He is less fragile than he seems. People see his sloping shoulders, the beautiful hands, the eyes that are almost green, and assume he is made of paper, and will fold under pressure. They haven’t seen the way he takes a punch, the way he holds his little sister. He doesn’t even flinch when the grill spits oil at him, when the car engine burns. He is roughly hewn, and he endures if not succeeds. 

He kisses boys in secret. He kisses boys in leather jackets, and boys in flannel shirts. He kisses boys with soft pink lips, and boys who only scowl. He kisses shy boys until they blush, and bold boys until they blush too. He loves them, behind the boatshed by the green green lake. Nobody knows, but they know. They see it on him, all the kisses he’s had. They punish him for it. 

He has his bags packed and hidden underneath the stairs. His car is hidden behind the billboard outside the town limits. He is done, but not gone, not yet. He’s waiting for something, a final push, somewhere to run to, not just away from. 

Meditative state in the hotel pool 

The bright turquoise water rippled as she twitched her fingers, the only parts of her body actually touching the water. The sun beat down, relentless - it was only ten o’clock. By noon, the ground would be sizzling, and anyone brave enough to walk on the ground barefoot would regret their mistake instantly. Lucinda readjusted her sunglasses, and flicked a few droplets of water onto her dark skin.

It was midsummer, almost exactly, and there was a weight hanging in the air. Soon, the days would be shortening once more, the autumn drawing closer. There would be sorrowful about it, somehow. Something sad. 

But then, the house had been sad for a while now. The halls, always large, now seemed empty, though nothing had changed on the surface. The white walls had taken on a tomb-like quality, and the floorboards were quieter than they had ever been.

It had been three weeks since her best friend had died. 

It was odd though. She had felt nothing, nothing at all when she had been told, the gaping emptiness a condemnation as much as anything else. She didn’t cry, she didn’t even flinch, she only stared. She wondered if it all would hit her later, at some point she would wake in the night weeping for Kate, but the moment never came. Was she broken? Or was she just smart?

She had never been someone that got attached to people. Her mother had remarked she was a cold child - she never had asked for kisses, or hugs, or comfort. When she had nightmares, she comforted herself, whispering quietly in the darkened room. She’d never expressed a desire for pets, or indeed, seemed to notice animals at all. When her baby sister had been born, she was neither disturbed by the new presence nor fond of it. 

The hotel pool boy paused by the side of the pool, dragging his eyes over Lucinda. pile of towels wobbling in his arms. She didn’t glance over, but the side of her mouth twitched. She liked to be watched, to be admired. What was the point of having a form at all if people did not gaze at it? People were art, and she had tried to sculpt herself into a masterpiece.

Her parents would be frantic while now, but it was a pilgrimage that had to be made, and she would make it in her own good time. Lucinda, historically, could not be rushed on anything, and she did not intend to start now. She was visiting the site of the crash where Kate had breathed her last breath, where her blood had spilt like coke across the tarmac, where her life had ended. Lucinda was partly going out of sick curiosity (surely the ground where someone had died had to look different?), partly out of escapism, and partly to see if she would finally feel something. 

“I couldn’t answer and you couldn’t hang up the phone.”

It was late, but that odd spell of summer had left the last of the light clinging to the sky, so you could still see the ghost of your silhouette outlined in haunting blue. My phone lay on the bedside table, silent, out of battery. I could have charged it, but instead I sat on the edge of my bed and watched it, hands clasped beneath my chin. 

Elsewhere in the house I could hear my brother shutting the front door and clattering into the kitchen, undoubtedly tracking mud the entire time. My mother’s low murmurs travelled from room to room, the blare of the TV static. If I closed my eyes, I could still picture them all perfectly. I knew this domesticity by heart.

If I turned my phone on, it would be disturbed, or lost. I would either have to tell them I was leaving, or her I didn’t love her enough to value her company over simple comfort. Fundamentally, I was a coward - I liked simplicity, I liked swimming with the tide, not against it. So my phone would remain black and lifeless, all those texts ignored, all the calls missed.

Act of Vengeance 

The room was a shade of pink she had not chosen for herself. It had been this colour since she could remember, painted when she was too young to know the word for the colour that splashed the walls. Nowadays, she barely noticed it.

She curled the curled phone wire around her fingers, that position that thousands, if not millions of teenagers had adopted. Balancing on her windowsill, cigarette left unlit in her other hand. On the phone her best friend was chattering about plans for prom. She had spent hours agonising over matching the petals of the corsage to her dress, to her boyfriend’s suit. She was a girl that liked everything perfect. She obsessed over details, unable to let even the smallest imperfections pass without comment.

Cecilia was fucking her boyfriend. 

It was not about him of course. Cecilia had long since learnt that making boys the point of things was in of itself a pointless and painful endeavour. It wasn’t because of anger. It wasn’t a moment of lust or love. It was out of a sort of fascination. Abigail liked perfection and the boys she chose to associate with were no different. If they weren’t perfect to begin with, she would shape them into something beautiful. 

Cecilia took a savage pleasure in corrupting, secretly, a small part of that image. In creating a bubble of lies and filth that was invisible to the untrained eye. She didn’t want her to find out, she didn’t want to hurt her. She just liked this, cradled close to her heart.  

Bedroom forts and everything alight

Most people don’t wake up during a housefire. The smoke creeps under the doors, curling around sleepers in a deadly embrace. The fumes fill their lungs, and keep them asleep. They burn to death while still dreaming. The house is quiet as it burns. 

The flames lick at the patchwork duvets, balanced on wooden chairs and dressers. The fairylights were the source of it. Their electricity had overspilt, overheated. It was almost beautiful, the bright orange glow that now lit up the room. It was impossible to tell if there were sleeping figures in the forts constructed from duvets and beds and chairs, held up with string or pegs. It would be impossible to tell later too, amongst the mess of melted plastic and ash.

The witch’s son and the scientist’s daughter

His hair was blonde. Not like gold or dripping honey, but like a wheat field only just waking into bloom. His skin was dark. His eyes were bright.  He smiled easily and lazily. He did most things easily, every movement relaxed and unhurried. She saw him every day on her way home from school, leaning in the doorway of his cottage, chewing on a long piece of grass. He smiled when he saw her, raising a hand in greeting. She found herself, once, raising a hand too before catching herself and lowering it. He seemed to be laughing at her as she scurried on.

There were rumours about him, as there were rumours about them all in this town. His mother had died last year, leaving a teenaged boy in an empty house with too many rooms and too big a garden. But he survived, and endured, and perhaps even flourished. It was scandalous, the town whispered, how little he seemed to mourn. How his cheerful demeanour never seemed to falter. 

ABANDONED

“The concept of wolves will never get old.” The snow fell too early that year, smothering the still-bright grass and turning the air quiet and still. The lanterns that always lit the way through the woods didn’t swing - there was no wind, there was nothing but the whisper of snow touching snow. And with the snow, came the wolves.

They didn’t take chickens, or steal the weak sheep in their strong jaws. But they waited, at the edge of the village, eyes fixed on the little houses. Abbie said they were hungry. Anthony said they were curious. Whatever they were, their vigil was unceasing - there was no sun to chase them away. 

Summer found herself staring back. When collecting wood, or water, she met the eyes of the leader, the one that came the closest, showed the least fear. There was an alarming intelligence in it’s eyes, something both animal and thinking. She thought of the stories of werewolves, of men trapped in an animal’s skin. Here, there was no path to wander from, but the danger was still present. Still close. 

She reached out a hand, slowly, never moving her eyes from it’s.  It did not step forward, but nor did it flinch when her palm met it’s head, and pressed fingers into the thick, thick fur there. It was coarse, and lush, and it had closed it’s eyes slightly, as though enjoying the contact.

A shot rang out, and it fell, the other wolves falling back out of the ring of light, and fading into the darkness. Scarlet splattered the snow, as Summer’s hand clasped at air, shock making it tremble. 

“Phew.” The hunter wiped a gloved hand across his brow. “It almost had you there.”

Child from the marsh

The singing travelled across the sodden ground, seemingly without source or cause. The flickering bog lights seemed unaffected, keeping their overnight vigil with little pomp or fanfare. In some countries, these were bad omens, spirits of those who wandered and found themselves lost, and soon, found themselves dead. Here though, they were a unique comfort, the sole light when the sky was not cloudless. 

But there were spirits here. Only, they were not filled with light. They were dark things, their eyes hollow and blank. Moss crawled over their unrotted skin, tinting it green. They seemed to be a feature of the marsh as much as the reeds, or the puddles. They stood, swaying in the breeze. There were not many of them, but there were enough. A silent, watching army, always turned northwards. 

She was different. She was not a corpse possessed, rather a marsh personified. Her eyes were not black - they were lanterns lit from the inside, bright and luminous. Her skin was not tallow or sickly, rather, the green looked living and vital. Her hair hung limp, damp vines swinging with movement.  A fox followed beside the child, underfed and skittish, cringing. Oh, and she walked. She was free to roam, and wander. 

She guided travellers off the path and into the marsh proper, the wisps never interfering even as they drowned, kicking to free themselves of the clinging, watery mud. They were watchers - not protectors. She was not evil, she was not anything at all. She simply was, as much as the mountains that shadowed the small piece of land.

Objects we saved from the burning house

The photo album, obviously. Not that it contained photos of us, oh no. This was an album of the dead, grandparents, nieces, brothers and cousins. To qualify for entry, you had to be both cherished and lost. We had no other albums.

A teddy, not old, pink. It’s nose was made of a heart button. 

Three rings, each with a stone of a differing type set in it. These would be ours when our mother died, and we were fascinated by them. We would play with them sometimes, holding them to the light and watching the filtered light come through. 

The cat saved itself, sooty and resentful. 

A birdcage filled with paperback books. Most of them had been salvaged from charity shops, stained with previous owner's’ tea, or curled from a past splash of water. Most of them were beatnik classics, and we read them a little too young, scandalised and fascinated by the sex, drugs and alluring rock and roll.

The record player, and the nearest records. Our family could survive a fire, but we could not live without art, without music. That perhaps explains how my father perished, in his hands clutched a series of childhood drawings from my sisters and I. 

He had always been a fragile man, my father. Prone to fits of laboured breathing, or what mother called funny turns. I remember him best in his armchair, leaning back and watching our performative play with a little smile on his face. I like to think he was often content, but more likely, it was never worth bringing up what made his discontent. He accepted everything life threw at him with the resignation that could only come from a man raising three daughters. 

I never once heard him raise his voice. Not even to call for help. 

He didn’t burn to death is the irony. He died of smoke inhalation, the dirty fumes from our home turning to ash polluting his fragile lungs until there was no air left. 

Dead swan on the riverbank

It was getting close to summer, the sky increasingly doing away with the heavy clouds and introducing those blindingly bright blue skies that seemed too gorgeous to be real. They were movie skies, not the type of thing that seemed to fit into the Surrey suburbs at all. 

Every day Silas walked home along the riverbank. In Winter, it was full of mud and ice, treacherous. He had lost more than one book to it’s depths, the wind catching him off guard and carelessly tossing it into the water. In Summer though, it ran clear. Sometimes you could see quick, silver fish flitting to and from the reeds on either side. Further along, there were wide fields, sometimes occupied by disinterested cows, but more often, empty of everything but dandelions. 

It was quiet. He walked holding his book with one hand, the other clasping the strap of his bag so it stopped banging against his hip. Occasionally he pushed his glasses up with a calloused thumb. His eyes kept flickering over the pages to check the path for obstacles or bullies, always ready to start running. His eyes flickered up, and then he stopped.

A spread of white feathers lay prone in front of him, unmoving. It was not completely white - dark, sickly blood painted the ground and stained the feathers. It looked as if the swan’s throat had been garrotted with a piece of old washing line. Not tangled, inconsequentially, but with force and intent. There was a glimpse of bone amongst the torn flesh. 

It revolted him, the sight of death. It repelled him, the sheer wrongness of something so elegant splayed at an odd angle. It occurred to him that he rarely saw the bodies of animals, yet they surely died at a quicker rate than humans. Where did they go exactly? Did someone take care of them, or did they just crawl into sad, forgotten places to perish alone? He dropped his bag, carefully shutting his book and resting it on top.

He felt he should do something, anything. A burial was out of the question. He despised the feeling of dirt under his nails, and he had no other entrenching tools with him. Dropping it into the water didn’t seem right either - a viking burial for something that was not a warrior. Slowly, he bent the wings into something looking natural, and with only a little revulsion, moved it into the grass at the side of the path. It was still warm, it’s body not yet stiffened, the feathers soft where the blood had not matted them. As he straightened up, he realised his school trousers were now sticky and marred from where he had knelt. 

On the river, another swan swam, a few cygnets following behind. He didn’t know if it was searching for it’s mate, or hunting, or even if it had another waiting in the nest. 

The flowers have always whispered to me, for as long as I can remember. The children were often left in the garden to amuse themselves. The walls were high, there were no houses that overlooked the large area, and well, it was in a time where adults let their children roam a little farther, a little longer.

She sat close to the daffodils, clapping chubby hands together, laughing as the stems danced in the wind. Her father, sitting on the far-away patio, glanced up occasionally, checking his daughter had not strayed. Her laughter carried easily, though as most children’s can, it often could be mistaken for little screams, making him jolt before returning to his newspaper.

He couldn’t see the fairies occupying her. Nobody could. But there they were among the leaves, chattering and hiding, sometimes tweaking her nose but darting back among the foliage before they could be seen. 

[saythename17scenarios]

best friend seventeen | dino/chan

- you met chan in your teens - you were a broke high school student who was looking for a part-time summer job - you couldn’t even go out with your friends or anything because all you had in your wallet was like 75 cents what have you done - while looking for a job online, you just so happened to come across this ad of a family saying they were looking for a babysitter to watch over their two sons on certain occasions - they were offering to pay 15$ an hour and so you were like I FOUND MY JOB - so you call up the family and after a quick interview with the parents over the phone, they ask you if you could come over to have an in-person interview and you say yes while striking a victory pose - you tell them that you’re available this saturday and luckily they are too so you make sure to polish up your resume and wear nice clothes to show that you’re responsible and clean lol - saturday comes around and you NAIL the interview man, you were hired on the spot - the adults call down their sons to meet you, and two boys come rushing down the stairs immediately - one is about five years younger than you but the other….. is literally only a year younger than you?? - you’re like ??? uhhh he can’t watch over his little brother himself ??? - the little brother just shyly waves hi to you but the older one grins widely and runs up to you and exclaims “hi i’m chan!! it’s really nice to meet you!!” and he takes your hand and shakes it excitedly - your first impression of him?? YOU LOVED HIM ALREADY YOU WERE LIKE WOW MY SON I WANT TO PROTECT YOU FOREVER - on your first day of babysitting, you discover that chan’s parents hired a babysitter because all he can cook is instant ramen and he’s actually pretty accident-prone lmao - so you’re cooking dinner for the two boys, and while preparing the table, you hear a crash in the living room and you’re like no nO DID WHAT I THINK JUST HAPPENED REALLY HAPPEN - you sprint to the living room to find a broken vase and two little boys looking down at it with dropped jaws - your jaw drops too when you see the mess and it’s silent - until chan’s little brother points at him and yells “HE DID IT” and chan looks so betrayed that his brother sold him out - but you don’t get mad and tbh you’re more concerned about their parents’ reactions and how you might actually get FIRED - you quickly pick up the pieces of the vase and ask chan “DO YOU HAVE SUPER GLUE” and he stutters “uh i think we have some in the cupboard!!” and you’re like “OKAY LOOK THEY’RE NOT GOING TO FIND OUT ABOUT THIS. WE HAVE THREE HOURS TO WORK LET’S GO” - so you and chan get straight to work while his little brother eats dinner at the table peacefully - you both carefully put the vase back together and you both succeed in finishing it LITERALLY ten minutes before his parents get home - both you and chan sweat when they walk through the living room, and you both let out a sigh of relief when they walk past the vase - you both high-five each because GOOD JOB - but after the high-five, you notice something red on your hand and you’re BLEEDING you actually cut yourself while putting the vase together without even realizing it - and chan notices and he says “OH MY GOSH ARE YOU OKAY?? THIS IS ALL MY FAULT I’M SO SORRY WAIT HERE” and he zooms out of the room - he returns shortly after with a first-aid kit in hand and he takes out a band-aid with dinosaurs on them and rips it open and sticks it onto your cut - he exclaims “there!! i hope it heals fast” and you’re like…. why. are. you. so. CUTE. - and every time you or his little brother gets hurt, chan takes out his dinosaur band-aids, and because of this you give him the nickname dino and he loves it so much - you end up babysitting the two boys for the next few weeks of summer and chan is always looking forward to your visits, like he always has something new to tell you or a new dance to show off to you - and when summer finally ends…. you feel so…. sad….. - you never wanted it to end - on your last day, you ruffle chan’s hair while his little brother is hugging you and crying for you not to leave - you say “hey don’t be like this, you’ll still see me around, i promise” - and you know what?? YOU KEEP YOUR PROMISE - chan and his little brother literally wouldn’t shut up about you so his parents invite you over for dinner one night and they invite you again and again and again - and through this, you and chan get really close and become BEST FRIENDS - but the big question is did he force you to learn all the michael jackson dances?? - yes. yes he did - tries way too hard just to make you happy because his best friend “deserves the best of the best” - like once he went all out for your surprise birthday party and when things didn’t go exactly as planned he cried and then got sick for over-working himself then cried again because he felt like he ruined your birthday - you ended up having to take care of him and you laughed “chan just seeing you today is good enough for me” - on his graduation day, you cried when he went to pick up his diploma like the proud mother you are - you screamed louder than anyone when they said he graduated with honors like “YES THAT’S MY BOY DO YOU SEE HIM THAT’S MY CHAN” - hugs you all the time. if he can, he will - compliments all day every day - “you’re amazing!!” “you’re so cool!!” “ohhh i like what you’re wearing!!” - constantly over-exaggerates his actions for no reason at all like you’d lightly push him and he’d fall to the floor and you’re like….. get the frick up chan - you’re always telling him how cute he is and he gets so offended - “cute?? i am a MAN” - used to call himself the little giant and you’d make fun of him for it until he outgrew you and you were like how dare you - the type to make you do pinky swears when making a promise - scolds you when you prank him and suddenly the roles are reversed - “how dare you speak to your mother this way” - signs up for talent shows with the stage name dino - made everyone believe it’s because he “dominates the stage” but really it’s a shout-out to you and you guys’ precious summer memories - you’re usually the one taking care of him, but when you’re sad, chan suddenly becomes super protective and goes to great lengths just to make you smile again - and it’s because he loves you with every fiber of his being and he isn’t shy when it comes to expressing it, he wants you to KNOW - chan normally hates being called and treated like a baby but when it’s you - he doesn’t mind at all - “chan whose baby are you?” - “(name)’s baby!!”