#I can go into heavy detail on how he would thrive in the field

[storm--bound]

since we all agree Sam needs a new job, may I present ✨️ Caretaker ✨️

Hear me out: always need people for the night shifts. He already has experience helping/healing others. Depending on the care home/care facility it can be rather laid back. Fairly fulfilling since you are actively taking care of others in the community

#redacted audio #redacted asmr #redacted sam #stormy speaks #Source: I am an evening caretaker #I can go into heavy detail on how he would thrive in the field #I can also go into detail on all the drawbacks cause GOD DAMN does the burnout happen quick #I post as I anxiously await his new audio tonight #redactedverse

[vminity21]

Even in the Rain | knj [Part 1]

Pairing: friend!Namjoon X female!reader, exboyfriend!Jimin X bakeryreviewer!reader, friendshiptolovers!au, bakery!au, forbiddenlove!au

Word Count: 18,482

Genre: Fluff/Angst

Warning(s):  foul language use, angst involving an ex-boyfriend, mention of alcohol on multiple occasions, mention of infidelity, mention of smoking, eventual smut (potentially in part 2), slow burn, taehyung and jimin are jerks in the story, based on the kdrama, Something in the Rain, i do not own the rights or the show; Rated: pg 13

Summary: Namjoon has been in love with you for what seems like forever. Despite you being five years older, him being your best friend’s brother, on top of your brother, Kim Seokjin, being one of Namjoon’s best friends- nothing will stop him from getting you to notice him, and he also will not let your relentless ex-boyfriend stand in the way of him winning your heart. You, on the other hand, an observer of bakeries notices the feelings Namjoon is starting to etch upon your heart; amidst this budding love, your mind is also confused upon the strange incidents happening between the bakeries planning to franchise together. But, who would want to jeopardize the businesses?

Credit to: @suhdays​ for such a beautiful cover!

The dreary clouds serenade the atmosphere with panging rain droplets while a faint brush of a sigh escapes your lips. Shoving loose hair from your ponytail behind your ears, you steady the umbrella above you- knuckles white from the grip you have on the handle. Once again, you’re scheduled to observe Jeon’s Bakery in downtown Busan- a thriving shop owned by the richest couple ever known, soon being passed down to their eldest son, Jung-hyun, whom you’ve had the pleasure of knowing throughout the years.

Stepping into the bakery- the cozy atmosphere brings a warmth you’ve been needing since you woke up this morning- shaking your umbrella through the crack of the glass door onto the sidewalk, you then return to face the dimly lit décor, leaning your umbrella along the wall. Aromas of freshly baked pastries waft in your direction while you inhale a hint of strawberry. Glistening sweets line beneath the glass cases while heated lights keep them appealing; the other side holds numerous cakes, decked with different colors or flavors- your stomach growling at the desire to purchase a treat or two before leaving.

“Ah, welcome,” Jung-hyun greets with a brief handshake and bow, though the nervous tension crinkles at the edges of his eyes. You, being one of the top members of the corporation, who franchises with Jeon’s Bakery, your reviews are very important- and, with the plans of opening another bakery along with a competing bakery on the other side of town, Jung-hyun is aware of the pressure his family line has to maintain a clean, yet successful business. Of course, with the hopes of the competing bakery, Ji Woo’s Café, signing the contract to officially set the opening date.

“How do you do,” you nod, hearing the padding footsteps of the employees rushing to stand at your presence. One, you recognize to be the youngest brother, Jeon Jungkook, folding his hands in front of him, while his eyes remain cast downward- brown hair swooping over his forehead while he timorously chews at the corner of his mouth. “My, how he’s grown,” you smile, his wide stare greeting yours with a timid bow.

“Just turned eighteen nearly two months ago,” Jung-hyun nods at his brother with pride before returning his gaze to you, “Next thing I know, it’ll be me handing the business to him,”

You can’t help the feeling of dread at how many years you’ve been a part of your job- essentially instructing cleaning reviews or food violations that are still not being met- and you hardly ever admit the gray hairs that you’ve remained to consistently pluck since your twenty-eighth birthday not too long ago. With a long glance around the bakery, you bring your clipboard forward while the click of your heels gives some sort of sound other than the rain prodding the rooftop.

“It is a bit dusty in this section here,” you run a finger over a shelf dawning coffee mugs and other trinkets, rubbing your fingertips together while an employee sprints with a damp cloth to clean the area you pointed out, “And the floor needs to be swept more thoroughly, I can see some crumbs even from this distance,” you hate sounding so nitpicky, but your boss Kim Taehyung, can be, and he expects a lot out of these businesses, so you maintain your duty in making sure everything is spotless, especially since you don’t want anyone, especially the Jeons’, to have to deal with Taehyung’s wrath.

Reaching the cold foods section, you tamper through the packages to check expiration dates, noticing a few will be out of date within the next week, “And, also, Mr. Jeon, make sure to check the expiration dates often, we want customers to be given exactly what they’re paying for without the risk of stomach upset,”

“Yes ma’am,” he bows obediently, while you study the rest of the store before turning to face every employee. A young girl, one who has avoided eye contact nearly your entire visit, cuddles into her thin sweater, your eyes falling to notice her open-toed shoes, “I know accidents may happen from time to time, but with heavy machinery, we use in the back to create such desserts, closed-toed shoes are a must,” though when first starting the job, you used to be afraid to single individuals out, with so many years of experience, it has become immune. “Let this be a warning, okay?” The girl nods in shame, though you give her a look of understanding.

One more detailed sweep, you give Jung-hyun a copy of the notes you made with the direction to continue his work. Reaching for your umbrella, you notice the heavy rain has died down to a soft sprinkle, and once the smell of the rain fills your nostrils, you still open your umbrella in an attempt to protect your outfit since you will be returning to work to finish out the day.

The familiar ‘ding’ of a text tone distracts once your clicking heels round a street where Jeon’s Bakery officially disappears behind you- retrieving it from your pocket, you realize it’s a text from your almost year-long boyfriend, Park Jimin.

Jiminie: ‘Dinner tonight? I think we need to talk,’

Just the simple text, with just a simple intent, with a simple meaning- or what is supposed to be simple- brings a strange feeling the moment you read it. Hardly watching the direction you’re heading, you’re very thankful when the ringtone assigned to your best friend jingles, prompting you to answer immediately,

“How, did you know to call me, right at this exact moment?” Your fingers feel ice cold upon your cheek once the phone is at your ear- and the tiny pain in your stomach is hard to ignore mingled with the bundles of nerves fluttering within your system.

“Glad to know I’m number one on your mind,” your childhood best friend, Monica, teases while a knowing smirk tugs at the corner of your lips. “I’m assuming something’s up?”

“Yeah,” you exhale, brushing past a few pedestrians while your eyes cautiously trail the sidewalk to prevent from tripping over something, “It’s Jimin,”

“Hm,” Monnie hums, the crunch of a carrot sounding through the staticky phone line, “Please tell me you two didn’t fight. Again,”

If the humiliation rising within your chest isn’t obvious enough, you squeeze your eyes shut momentarily, trying to suppress the memory of the past month or two within your conscious, “He’s been going on and on about that promotion,”

“And,” Monnie adds, “Let’s not forget you’ve made it clear that you’re not planning on leaving Busan.”

“I know, I know,” the solitude of the area you’re in seems silent, way too silent, and maybe it’s due to the budding sadness. Jimin’s job is wanting to take him to Seoul- nearly 325 kilometers away from where you’ve grown up- where you’ve held a successful job- and, where your family and friends reside. The two of you have been battling it out for what feels like too long, emotionally draining you just as evenly as the stress from your job, “I just wish he would just understand my side for once,” your voice is hushed as if he can hear you, Monica nodding on the other end though you cannot see it.

“Well, how about you change his mind,” a devious tone evident in her voice, “Give him something he wouldn’t want to miss out on if you catch my drift,”

“You are such a tease,” you shake your head incredulously, “But, you have a good point,”

“Uh-huh, when do I not?”

Sauntering minutes longer past the numerous rows of shops, you end the phone call with Monica before your eyes fall upon a small boutique with mannequins adorned in glimmering dresses poised behind the glass window. Maybe an ounce of hope decides to arise, especially the second it leads you into the shop, trying on a few dresses in the mirror until you’ve made your decision.

The dress hugs all the right curves while you run your hands over the fabric- loose curls tickle your shoulders, yet the dress is modest enough to leave mystery- leave eyes lingering whilst you walk by. Except, the moment Jimin takes a seat before you, across the table within your favorite restaurant, his eyes seem to pay more attention to his wine glass rather than sweeping you. His thick lips lay in an obvious grimace, disinterest in his expression to every word you say, yet you remain unaltered, showing him no sign of notice, until he interrupts you,

“I received news today,” he clears his throat, your mouth slightly agape while your eyes widen in anticipation for what he’s about to say next, “They’re promoting me. It’s official,”

“Oh, Jimin,” you breathe, though you’re happy his job is recognizing him for his outstanding work in his job field, you can’t help the sorrow plaguing you at what you know is considered the next step, “I’m so happy for you,” you feign enthusiasm, but he sees right through you, especially when his brown eyes nearly smother your gaze with disbelief, “When- when is the big day?”

“Two weeks,” He counters, eyes falling back to his drink, “Have to clean out my apartment, and leave within two weeks,”

“Two weeks?” You’re caught off guard by the sudden answer, not even giving you enough time to process, one- that your boyfriend of nearly a year will be leaving so soon whether you move with him or not, and two- the realization that maybe, no matter how hard you try to get him to understand you, he just simply won’t. “But that’s so sudden-”

“Just come with me,” he’s exasperated, waving a hand once in the air, “If you’re really as happy for me as you say you are, you’d come,”

“Excuse me?”

“What is it about Busan that you just can’t seem to let go? We will be able to visit family if that’s what you’re afraid of,”

“Jimin, we’ve already discussed this,” you run your hands over the bridge of your nose propping your elbows onto the table, while you try with all your might to calm the anger, “I have a steady job here, one I will not be able to transfer. I’m not ready to just give up my life like this, what part of that do you not understand?” You peer through your hands, “And, I mean, if there’s anything I don’t understand, is if you can visit as often as you say you can, then how come a long-distance relationship sounds so revolting to you?”

Frustration drips from him when he leans back into his chair, eyes scoping the side of the restaurant while his lips press into a firm line. A thought that failed to occur to you from previous arguments dawns,

“Wait,” you inhale, “Are you afraid… that you’ll start seeing someone else?” When he abruptly meets your gaze, your elbows fall to your sides, “Jimin?”

Shaking his head, “Forget it,”

“Then what is it?” You question, “If not that, then what is it?” Investigating his eyes, you’re nearly brought to your knees from the heartbreak wrenching within you, “If this is something that leaves such distaste in your mouth then why not just break up with me?” Without a second thought, you stand to your feet, not even sure how you’re able to with how your body is trembling, but you maintain your balance while you thrust your trench coat on, “You know what? I’ll do the honors,”

He follows you out the door in a mild panic, though he remembers to leave cash behind to pay for the meal. Declining the ride, he offers, you can’t even speak nor look in his direction, your heart-shattering in a million pieces especially when his presence leaves without even a speck of desire to fight for you. You’re rendered speechless the entire walk of the chilly night- shooting a text to Monnie to meet you at a local bar- her treating you to multiple drinks- gulping them down with the intention of drowning in your sorrows.

“Okay, I’m going to need you to stop,” she motions for the waiter to scatter any empty glasses he can before you down your final drops, “Besides, you’re the one who dumped him, so am I missing something?”

“No,” you drag out the word, your head dizzy from the heavy buzz you feel, “You and I both know this is something that’s not easily forgettable,”

“Maybe you’re right, but really, [Y/N], you’re going to make yourself sick,”

“And what if I do? What’s it going to change?” Your words slur, while you lean onto your knuckles- your eyelids squinted in a hazy glance. Mo’s concern is all you can envision while she lightly taps your arm.

“If he were worth it, he’d stay in a relationship with you despite any distance,” her voice softens, her turning to get you to rest on her shoulder, “Besides, if I were him, I wouldn’t have let you walk away, especially with how that dress snugs your ass,”

Cackles erupt from your throat while you lean more into her frame for comfort, “Shut up, no it doesn’t,”

Flabbergasted, she pulls away just enough to stare down at your glossy eyes, “Girl, you look like a twelve outta ten, would recommend, and any asshole would be stupid to let a dime piece like you go,”

“You mean it?”

“Of course,” she wraps an arm under your shoulders to help you steady on your feet, “Now, I’m going to take you home. Your brother is coming home tomorrow as well as mine, and the last thing I need is for them to smell alcohol on your breath,”

“But, but- I’m- I’m not done yet. Just one more,”

“No! Are you insane?”

“Monnie, please, just one more. Just one-”

“Drinking isn’t going to make Jimin’s absence any less painful, now come on, you need to get home,” Reluctantly, you obey, faltering into your home while your parents, who are retired, stare at you with mirrored worry, you immediately bowing in apology before stumbling to your bedroom. The following morning hits you like an ocean wave, your head thudding while you force yourself to sit up- the shower awakens you just enough for you to function, and the minute you’re dressed with a towel wrapped around your drenched hair- you open the door to be greeted by your younger brother, Kim Seokjin.

“You look like you’ve been trampled by ten elephants,” his arms outspread while you gasp,

“Seokjin! You’re home!” Crashing into his arms, he hugs you tight, the safety you feel with him finally returning home brings serenity to the household. You haven’t seen your brother in four years with him studying abroad in America, which reminds you that it must mean Monnie’s brother, Kim Namjoon, who studied the same program as Seokjin, is home, too- though you vaguely remember your best friend making that statement last night before taking you home.

Leaning back to playfully smack his shoulder, you tease, “Don’t think I forgot about what you just said a second ago! Remember, I am your elder,”

The familiar windshield wiper laugh sounds while his shoulders shake, “By what, a few years? And don’t think I didn’t hear about you coming home wasted last night,”

With a roll of the eyes, you hear your mother starting up food in the kitchen, “It’s complicated, but,” with a quick sweep, you notice, Seokjin is wearing an outfit as if he’s about to head out, a backpack still hanging off his shoulders, “But- wait, aren’t you staying?”

“Mom, didn’t tell you? I’m moving out with one of my past friends. Remember, Hoseok?” 

“Ah,” a lightbulb clicks, “The one whose parents own the competing bakery? The one we used to raid when we were children?”

“Yes, that’s the one,”

You remember Seokjin and Hoseok were thick as thieves growing up, so with a curt nod, you elbow your brother’s side, “Good idea rooming with him, but you better visit me. I literally haven’t seen you other than through a phone screen,”

“You know I will,” He promises, “No more phone screen,”

As much as the two of you love your mother, she can be overbearing at times- and, you can’t help with how hard it is to stifle laughter as you watch her pester Seokjin as he’s leaving, “Please eat once you get there since you won’t stay for the meal I cooked- and, please text me once you arrive- remain in good health for me okay- don’t do anything you will regret-”

Seokjin waves goodbye before your mother follows you to the kitchen. Of course, she isn’t going to ignore the incident of you rummaging to make a cup of coffee in an attempt to remedy the hangover you know you deserve after how much you chugged the night before. Unaware of the situation that caused your drunken state, your shoulders tense the moment you hear his name,

“I thought you were with Jimin last night? He’s never let you drink more than one glass. Very insolent of him if you ask me,”

“I don’t think you’ll have to worry about that anymore,” you mumble against the rim of the coffee mug.

“I guess I can forgive him this one time, invite him over sometimes so I can cook you both some dinner. It’s about time for you to settle down and marry-”

At this point, you’re increasingly aware of how late you will be to work if you continue to listen to your mom banter about your ex-boyfriend, one you can’t bring yourself to reveal in fear of disappointing your mother. Although, your father offers to give you a ride, you politely decline, making your way to the nearest station before sprinting into the building of your job.

From the poker face, Taehyung has while everyone files in to their seats, your coworkers LenLen and Shai take a quick seat on either side of you- Yoongi, handy with the technological side of the business gets the screen to load to where everyone can see it. Chairs turned in the same direction, you swallow nervously when a picture of what looks to be bags of flour are revealed to have picked up pesky moths, and the horror you feel when it’s the same store your brother’s childhood friend has grown-up knowing: Ji Woo’s Cafe.

“This,” Taehyung’s voice booms while gesturing toward the screen, “Is unacceptable.”

With slumping shoulders, everyone knows he isn’t wrong, but it’s the embarrassment of knowing this has been missed.

“Who is in charge of keeping up with this particular franchise?”

LenLen hesitates beside you though you’re of knowledge that she is, in fact, the supervisor of the Jung’s shop. You don’t even hesitate to stick up for her, promising you will get to the bottom of this ordeal being that you know the Jungs’ personally. The bus ride over doesn’t take long, but you figure it’s from the trepidation of having to face a family you haven’t seen in so many years over something that wasn’t necessarily in their control. When arriving, the first face you see is Jung Hoseok, messy hair frilly across his forehead with your brother rounding the corner putting on his apron. It takes a prolonged second for everyone to register each other’s presence, and you factor in that maybe they hired a moving company to assist in helping them unpack their belongings. Or, perhaps, Seokjin is staying with Hoseok’s parents for the time being until the two can find a place of their own. Either way, your eyes flicker between the stunned pair prompting you to clear your throat- pressing the tip of your pen onto the pad of paper upon your clipboard.

“Hello, Gentlemen, you may have been aware, but it has been brought to corporate’s attention about flour bags being infested with moths?”

Hoseok wets his lips, frantically looking over at Seokjin who shrugs his shoulders, completely oblivious to the scenario that may have taken place prior to his hiring, “Uh, yes- yes ma’am,”

“And please tell me such a discovery was not, in fact, served to our consumers?” Palms clammy, you’re surprised at how intimidating you can be but with the way Hoseok’s panicky eyes scream innocence, you know that he didn’t do anything of the sort.

“Of course not,” he stammers, your brother glaring a look though he knows you’re merely doing your job.

“Good,” you scribble a few notes of areas you noticed may need to be tidied up before handing it to him, “Just remember to always, always, keep things clean, and to always store packaging in the correct areas. I agree sometimes we can’t prevent everything, but from what I could tell from the picture, the flour wasn’t stored properly.”

“I’m so-”

Gesturing a hand to stop him, you continue, “No need for apologies, just make sure staff is trained to follow protocols. And if I overheard correctly, Jeon’s Bakery may want to franchise along with Ji Woo’s Cafe for the opening of the new store. If that’s the case, then everyone must be on the same page in order for that contract to be signed. Do I make myself clear?”

Hoseok timidly nods, you being grateful that customers haven’t waltzed in especially with it being close to afternoon; glimpsing at your brother, he swallows, nodding once in understanding. In this circumstance, guilt wedges in the crevices of your mind, especially with it, now, involving a blood relative who works within one of the stores your company partly owns. Coming off harsh isn’t who you really are, but the job forces you to be this way, especially when stressing the importance of cleanliness and statistics of sales.

You’re nearly lost in thought- reminiscing on unwanted memories of Jimin, avoiding the ache in your soul when you can’t remember the last time, you’d seen him smile. Blisters form on your feet from your heels, the pain thudding to the point you hardly notice the tall figure inching closer to your frame. In fact, you choose to ignore whoever it is, keeping your eyes ahead with the goal of making it home.

“Is that how you treat a friend you haven’t seen in years?”

“Whoa!” You jolt, whirling in the direction of the deep voice- heart hammering against your sternum while your hand flies to your chest. Dimples immediately appear in your vision while hearty laughter escapes the handsome face of none other than your best friend’s brother, Kim Namjoon. “Namjoon?” Your voice raises in glee, his trench coat loose on his frame, while his wide smile remains on his face, “How long have you been following me?”

“Who said it was me who was doing the following,” he teases while you open your mouth in fake offense,

“Kim Namjoon, yes you were!” Your smile hasn’t been so genuine other than when your brother returned home and reaching forward to playfully smack Namjoon’s arm, he promenades around you while he dodges your every move. The view to outsiders looking in would appear to be a happy couple especially with the way you chase after him, with the contrived promise of embracing him, when really you plan on tackling him for following you for however long he did.

The teasing soon leads to the pair of you agreeing to drinks and dinner- planning to catch up over the four years lost between your friendship.

“So,” your voice is chirpy after taking a long sip of your beer, the waitress settles the entrees in front of you and Namjoon, your elbows resting on either side of the plate while you peer at him over your folded hands. Seeing his face brings a spindle of turning memories- laughter with him and Monnie alongside you, getting into mischievous spouts, causing both pairs of parents in continuous bouts of worry- and the way his brown hair is neatly styled to the way his brown eyes study your every move, you are thankful for his presence, along with your brother’s, being returned to you, “Meet anyone you’ve taken a liking, to?” Namjoon’s only five years younger than you, but with the pressure of marriage being a thought- you’re uncertain if he’s tied the knot- or, more so, your question is directed to if he’s fallen for an American girl, something you’re curious to know about your friend.

A breathy laugh escapes him while he sips his drink, grabbing his fork to play with a vegetable on his plate, “Unfortunately, you’ve remained at the top of my list,” reaching for his drink, he lifts it toward you while you mimic his gesture, clinking them together while you shake your head at him,

“That mouth of yours is going to get you in a lot of trouble, you know that?”

“Can’t remember a time it hasn’t,” he takes a bite of his pasta while you conjure up another question,

“Are you ever planning on going back? To America?” Honestly, you’re afraid of the answer, because if he says yes, then that could mean Seokjin will be following suit.

“Actually,” Namjoon carefully places his fork back on the napkin beside his plate, running the back of his hand at the corner of his mouth, “I hope to live there one day. But that’s only for when Korea gets too small for me,”

“Does Monnie know?” Crossing your arms, your appetite is suddenly lost, for the time being, the subject of anyone else disappearing from your life for a while making you feel a small wave of nausea. Namjoon’s eyes flicker to his plate before returning to your gaze which gives you an answer without any words, “You know she cares a lot for you. She’s been talking non-stop about your arrival since you left.”

“I know,” his voice trails, while he clenches his jaw, “I almost didn’t tell her Seokjin and I were coming back,”

“What? Why?”

“I just didn’t want her to worry,” his long fingers grip the handle of his mug while he swirls the contents within it, “She’s already busy enough with work, and my coworkers I’ve returned to have done enough for me, and I don’t want her to feel like she needs to contribute anything,”

“That’s her choice to make you know. You’re her brother,”

“And I care for her a lot, too. Hence, why I refuse to stress her out regardless of my arrival,”

He’s always had this aura about him that you’ve admired since knowing him. The way he refuses to let his burdens be known to the people he loves- he doesn’t want to put anyone through the trouble that he feels they shouldn’t go through. He’s so young with so much to learn, but yet, he is the one that you look up to the most, physically and figuratively, “You’re a good man, Kim Namjoon,” you coo, “Since when did you grow up so fast?”

Tilting his head, he leans forward with a taunting smirk, “And since when did you start getting gray hair?”

Gasping, you grasp a bundle of hair between your fingers while your eyes widen at him, “You take that back!” You threaten, “Are you asking for me to dig your grave?” The laughter that builds between you two is much-needed medicine that you’ve been longing for, and as the playful banter simmers, he takes a bite of his food, dapping the napkin onto his lips before speaking,

“How about you, by the way? Is there a man whose ass I need to kick?”

Squinting at him, you carefully chew your food, “Plenty.”

Offering to pay the bill, he objects, you mentioning how his sister may be upset if she were to hear that, but you make it clear that you will treat him to a meal the next time you two are to hang out. The night falls quickly, the city lights distracting visions of the stars, yet Namjoon leads you to the direction of your home, making jokes on how you never seem to break rules- or, at least, ever since you’ve gotten “old.”

When the city continues to disappear behind both of you, his large hand gently grabs yours, “Follow me,”

“Hm, what? Where?”

“Must you always question everything? Now, come on,”

Muttering under your breath, you squeeze his hand in a way to show your trust, him spreading a wired fence while you squeeze through the opening, him turning to tangle the brush along the fence as if nothing has been disturbed. “Now, can you tell me where the hell we are?”

“Behind the library. Beyond that, passing the bus station is your home,”

“How-?” You can’t help the surprise, especially when your voice carries just enough to interrupt a couple lip-locked in the distance. You’re nearly floored when you recognize the coworker being LenLen while the male, she’s clinging to happens to have strands of blonde hair revealing the face of Min Yoongi. “Holy shit,” you whisper, though it’s dark enough for the couple to not be able to see who has disrupted their peace. They jog away from the scene, while Namjoon chuckles, you wondering how long this has been going on without the corporate’s knowledge, “How did you know about this shortcut?” You change the subject, gulping at the lump in your throat.

“Do you really want me to answer that,”

Furrowing your eyebrows, you glare a suspicious look, “Oh?”

“Other than sneaking kisses to impress the ladies, I also taught Seokjin how to smoke cigarettes in high school,”

“Nam. Joon! You rascal!” You gape in surprise, “I’m telling Mom,”

“Aren’t you too old to tattle?”

“Oh, you smart ass-” He dodges your raising hand as you chase him down, “Come here you brute! Wait till I get my hands on you!” His joke brings you back to the exposed couple from earlier, which then gives you a steady reason on why you should keep your mouth shut- if anything, you are too old to dabble in drama- and if LenLen has finally found a lover who potentially will be her forever- then you will leave it as is, despite it being a work violation of dating someone within the workplace. When the jog slows to a steady pace, your home welcoming your sight, Namjoon speaks,

“Not sure if we ever get lunch breaks at the same time, but if so, you may need to remind me of all the restaurants around here,”

“Is that so?”

“Unless you want to avoid your promise on treating me,”

“How did you know?”

Eyes locking, chuckles reverberate into the breeze while he shakes his head at you, “I’m just kidding,” you finally say once you regain your senses, “Of course, I’d love to. Just text me every day when you start your lunch break. If there’s a time I happen to be heading to lunch too, then we will meet up. Sound like a plan?”

“Sounds like a plan,” he nods, watching you sprint to type in the security code, you whirling around to wave goodbye while he returns the same gesture.

It’s crazy how beautiful you were before he left for America, and how you’ve remained with the same beauty inside and out as if he never truly left. Other than his family, your face never left his mind the moment he stepped off the plane- some may say it’s because your brother sat right beside him on the plane ride home – but, that’s not exactly the only reason.

Entering your room, your mother bombards you repeatedly with the same conversation on why you reek of alcohol, and why Jimin would let you take it too far. Openly admitting, you happened to be with someone else, your mother continues to pester on how you and Jimin need to find a compromise in order for marriage; how his family are known for their efficacious jobs, how they’re made of money, and that you would be a fool not to marry into his family. Making the excuse that you’re tired and ready for bed, she mumbles that you’re always tired, before departing your room.

Work comes with the presence of Taehyung telling everyone to go to lunch with him, all your female coworkers throwing excuses from left to right about how they can’t make it; which he demands you to join, your coworker Shai promising to tag along, so you won’t feel so alone.

Namjoon: 11:49am- Starting lunch, want to join?

Though you wish you could say yes, you avoid the text message. Following your coworkers into an elevator, surprised to discover Namjoon standing in the corner, realizing his job happens to be within the same corporation but deals with different topics. It’s awkward when your coworkers ask what food you’d like, which you say you’re not particularly picky, Namjoon shooting you a text in a tease of how your taste has even aged. You retort with a text saying to ‘Shut your yapper.’

A few days pass when you’re scheduled to visit another bakery within the city where Monnie sends you screenshots of Jimin’s Facebook page exposing that he has found another girlfriend- one he’s apparently been spoiling before his supposed trip to start a new life in Seoul. The pain seers through every inch of your chest, and it’s hard to recollect yourself enough to return to your job- admitting to yourself you probably missed spots that needed to be cleaned, yet the only tornado jumbling your thoughts are the haunting ones involving Jimin’s face- and the feelings of love you once had for him, vanishing in the blink of an eye.

“According to one of the captions, she’s moving with him,” Monica exhales, “Because dating someone for a week means you should follow them all across Korea. Honestly, [Y/N], I bet this is all a show he’s putting on, or maybe he really has been cheating-”

It doesn’t take long until a recent post is made with the location of their current date- sneaking into the parking lot, you hastily find the valet, asking for the number matching the parking spot where Jimin’s flashy car glistens beneath the starry sky. You’re uncertain of this feeling you hold, but with the anger bubbling within your pounding heart, you know you can’t let this go. The way this girl on his page praises his every move, you even noticing how young she appears, and the lingering fact of him taking her to places you’d always begged him to take you. Nor the pictures he’s flaunting of her that he never once did when he was with you, nearly brings you into a stream of unwanted tears. With all you are, you know it’s not fair. And for that, he needs to pay.

The valet hands you the keys while you ploy your happiest smile. Stepping into Jimin’s car, you pull out the gooiest lip gloss you never use, planting it beneath the passenger side along with the tearing of black pantie hose you purchased from a convenience store on your way here; even laying out a semi-tattered bra you’ve been meaning to throw away, but instead relics beneath the back seat of Jimin’s car. Returning the keys to the valet, you thank them before hiding into the brush a distance away from Jimin’s car where you watch the whole scene play out before you. Watching the girl stampede away while confusion is etched in Jimin’s staggered expression, as his mouth remains agape, doesn’t leave you with the satisfaction you hoped to gain. Instead, you find yourself sitting across from your best friend, gulping down an alcoholic beverage, her moving the glass beside her when she sees the way your eyelids flutter.

“Shouldn’t you be rejoicing?” She questions, your chest feeling emptier than it had before you gained your buzz, “You got your revenge for goodness sakes!”

“Oomf,” you plop your head into your palms before rubbing them slowly along your face, “It’s not that. I mean, Jimin got what he deserved, but that’s not the reason I feel like shit,”

“Okay?” Mo shrugs, “Then, what is it? I know I’ve pestered about your needing of higher standards of men, but really, [Y/N], you deserve so much more than a player like that,”

“I just,” you lazily sigh, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, “I really thought I knew what love was, you know?” You pause, “With Jimin, the way we met, and the way we clicked at first… I guess I just don’t understand where it all went wrong. Or, what made us fall apart… Maybe, we were never in love after all,”

“Let me ask you this,” your best friend leans forward, playing with a loose string from her sleeve, she tilts her head while she investigates your hazy stance, “What is true love?”

The question isn’t one to shock you; it’s one to make you think, really looking into the depths of your memories to a person you may have experienced love with, and as your eyes flicker upon her face, the answer becomes quite clear, especially when you lean back, the realization bringing the truth you never thought you’d find, “I… I-I don’t know,”

“Exactly,” Monnie points a quick index finger in your direction.

“I’ve never been in love,” you murmur, trying to make sense of this, and wishing you would have realized it sooner.

“If you were in love with Jimin, you would have left Busan behind in a heartbeat. And, if Jimin really had been in love with you, he would have settled for a distant relationship until you made your choice. So why couldn’t either of you find a compromise?”

“Because… we didn’t want to,”

“Because neither of you wanted to,” Monnie smiles deviously before sliding your glass back to your hand that curls around it instinctively, “Now, drink up,” she says, refilling your glass to the brim. Light giggling sounds for the next hour until Namjoon walks in with the intent of checking on his sister. It’s a surprise when he sees you occupying the seat across from her, and as he teases lightly at why Monnie let you get so wasted, she then asks him to give you a ride home.

His heart flutters at the thought of once again getting to spend time with you but he refuses to show it in the slightest; hugging onto Monnie tightly, you drunkenly plant numerous kisses upon her cheeks while she ushers you into the passenger side of Namjoon’s car- you uttering slurred words of songs you hope to karaoke to whenever you see your best friend again- her punching Namjoon’s shoulder for making a joke on who’s going to pay him for being your chauffeur which then prompts him to joke on how violent the two of you are.

Silence becomes too overwhelming while Namjoon keeps his focus on the road, yet all you can think about is how the alcohol hasn’t done its job in letting you forget about your breakup with Jimin. When tears stain your cheeks, Namjoon pulls over, leaving the car until your tears dry- not wanting you to feel embarrassed for crying in his company. Though he wishes nothing more than to hold you in his arms, he knows he can’t.

Your whines to why he stopped the car are what brings him back to the driver’s side, you falling asleep the rest of the way home while he lovingly stares at the peace on your slumbering face. The way your mouth hangs open, cuddled into the corner of the window, he can’t help how cute you look, pulling out his phone to snag a quick picture.

Forgetting his ringer happens to still be on, the sound of the camera jolts you awake, you groggily wiping at your mouth while glaring a hole through his head, “Did you just?”

“No,” Namjoon nearly drops his phone from being caught in the act, sliding lower into his seat as if to hide from you. Sitting up slowly, your eyes dazed from still overcoming your nap, you peer at him shadily,

“Yes, I did, I saw it,”

“Then, why did you ask?”

“I- Hand it over,” palm up, you reach over with the operation to delete the picture, chagrin flooding your features humorously of the thought of him using it against you by posting it on social media for all your mutuals to see.

Jumping out of the car, he can’t help but laugh at your tiny frame, yet again, chasing him down while he holds the phone high above his head. There’s no hope- you can’t reach it- but that doesn’t stop you from trying, “Namjoon, you better delete it, or-”

“Or what? If only you could reach it, then I’d let you win,”

“Oh,” you groan, pressing your forehead into his chest from the exhaustion of the exercise you didn’t plan on doing, “You do realize you are disparaging your elder, correct? My bones feel cracked now thanks to you, Legs,”

He can’t help the way he smiles at you, so wide, that he nearly catches himself, hoping that you will not notice the longing he has to tilt your chin up and plant a sweet kiss to your rosy lips. The rest of the walk to your home continues in spirited bickering- him refusing to delete the picture of you until you accept the fate- igniting the promise you will get him back eventually.

It’s hard for you to look away from him once you type in your security code- the strange jitters you have in your heart at the thought of parting from him- the feeling of missing him, though you know you will see him again. He smiles at you with the same dimpled grin he always gives when looking at you- waving goodbye, you trying to decipher these feelings you’ve never felt before.

The persistent thoughts soon leave, especially when greeted at work with the panic of finding out the contract has yet to be approved for the Jeons and the Jungs to open the new bakery together.

“I thought Taehyung said it would be taken care of?” Your eyes are frantic while you search LenLen’s- her hand running through her hair to then pressing her fingertips to her lips.

“He handed me the documents to give to Yoongi to sign for the approval. I don’t- I don’t understand how it wouldn’t have gotten signed- I highlighted the words for an immediate agreement.”

The tension you bury from the knowledge of LenLen and Yoongi’s relationship makes you think he would have gotten the papers considering it was a love interest who delivered them to him. Shaking your head, you briskly walk to his office, him immediately standing to his feet- numerous folders holding documents crowd his desk, “Hello, Mr. Min, I gather you’re doing well?”

His brown eyes seem alarmed, his shoulders tensing in your presence from the way you hold your stance, “Why, yes, yes I am,”

“And I’m assuming you know why I’m here?”

“Word- word gets around,”

“Mhm, I see,” you nod, though you refuse to cower, “So, did you or did you not receive a document regarding the franchise of the Jeons and the Jungs?”

When an ‘oh’ falls on his lips, his eyes enlarge in confusion which you can’t help, but furrow your eyebrows at the sudden shift in his expression, “Mr. Min?”

“I thought- I thought you were referring to the coffee stain in the break room,”

You wish you could feel a hint of laughter upon this misunderstanding, but instead, you clear your throat while you wave away the reply, “No, Mr. Min, I am addressing the documents of approval in order for the Jeons and the Jungs to be able to open up the new bakery on the other side of town. Now, it has come to my attention that LenLen brought you the documents to sign?”

“Not-not to my knowledge,” he stammers, scratching at the back of his neck while sweat beads form along his forehead. In the end, the discussion results in Taehyung’s office, him harshly accusing the ordeal to be your fault, though you callously want to reveal LenLen and Yoongi’s affair being you have a theory as to why he wasn’t aware of the document. Yet, you can’t bring yourself to do it. Ultimately, you hope everything will get taken care of with the promise that it won’t happen again, LenLen texting you an apology for not double checking on whether Yoongi received the papers or not.

When faced with Seokjin, who continues to ask you for updates, just to be let down again- you can’t help the frustration building to the point you want to explode. It’s when the next day comes, and lunch break finally rolls around, that there’s only one person you want to see. Sending a quick text, Namjoon meets you at a local restaurant, one he happens to pick out, the sight of him bringing a breath of fresh air you desperately needed.

Just a dull, thin sweatshirt and jeans, yet he shines more than anyone else bustling on the streets. When the waitress seats both of you- each ordering- Namjoon makes a joke on if you’d want wine, of course, you wanting to object since you are working today, yet he teases the thought of you needing to break a rule already.

“You are just out to get me, aren’t you?” You say between slurps of your noodles.

“The day that I’m not is the day you should be worried,” he counters with a side grin poised upon his thick lips. Sitting back, he moves his sleeves to rest mid-arm while he continues to watch you.

“Worried? I think I’d throw a party,”

“What?” He gapes, “A party without the main attraction?” He jabs a thumb at himself, “We will see how many will even show up,”

“Must you always have the last word?”

You’re grateful he was able to join you for lunch, especially when he listens to your vague rant on the stress your job holds, walking with you to the elevator of your work building before the two of you part ways. When night comes, you clocking out to head to the bus station, you make your way out into the warm breeze, when the figure of a familiar face nearly knocks you off your feet, yet you stand firm, swallowing the lump in your throat until his steps halt before you.

“[Y/N],” Jimin’s eyes hold worry while he stares into your hardened gaze.

“Jimin,” you grit your teeth, biting back the foul words wanting to tumble off your tongue. You’re not surprised when he asks why you haven’t returned his calls, because, with every message he sends, you delete it, refusing to let him get to you. “What are you doing here?”

“Can we- can we go somewhere with fewer people?” He pleads which you directly decline. Initiating an argument, both of you are unaware of the gathering audience, standing behind the glass doors, watching the flustered pair of you whispering frustrations that sail off with the wind. LenLen and Shai happens to be two witnesses, joining them Namjoon, whose heart nearly breaks from the man, he can tell, will not leave your side unless you comply.

The rage is unsettling, especially with the way he sees you trying to break free from the man’s grip- prompting Namjoon to come to your rescue, wrapping his arm around you to free you from Jimin’s relentless remarks.

“What- what are you doing?” You whisper in surprise, swiping your hair from your vision while your widened eyes sweep along Namjoon’s unreadable face.

“I’m your boyfriend, okay? Act natural,”

You can hardly process what he’s trying to do, especially when Jimin becomes an object in the path causing you and Namjoon to pause in place.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Jimin gestures a stiff digit toward Namjoon, whose jaw clenches in return, “Who is this?”

“I- uh- I- yes, I-” You stutter, uncertain on if you even heard Namjoon right to begin with. Did he just call himself your boyfriend? And, how come that sounds like such wonderful music to your ears?

“Pretty sure that’s my question to ask,”

Jimin’s taken aback, waving off Namjoon’s statement as if it’s useless, “I’m [Y/N]’s boyfriend, so, therefore, it’s my right to ask, you bastard,”

“Mm, is that so?” The tension is smothering especially when Namjoon takes a small step forward, his arm guarding you while he holds an angered glance- not breaking eye contact with Jimin whose shoulders slump with the slightest fear he doesn’t want to show. “If I were you, I would fuck off,”

“Excuse me? What the hell did you just say?”

“I said to fuck. Off,” Namjoon’s voice is thick with vile, your hand tightening around his wrist while you gulp over the pounding of your heart.

“Who are you telling to-”

“Unless you want to be reported to the cops for harassment, I would advise you to walk away,” it doesn’t take but a millisecond for Namjoon to slip out his phone, immediately calling his sister, unbeknownst to you and Jimin, Monnie’s voice in a panic when Namjoon continues talking over her as if he is speaking to the authorities. Jimin, reluctantly, scampers off- Namjoon repudiating to leave your side when you lower your glance, gradually walking in the direction of your home.

“Hey…” His voice is soft after a few minutes of silence- you’re so lost in your thoughts, it’s hard to distinguish the fog wanting to encompass your mind. When you don’t hear him at first, he merely pauses, placing his fingers underneath your chin in a manner to get you to face him. Meeting his eyes, there’s a concern there that you’ve never seen a man hold for you, and it takes you a second to fully understand it. “Talk to me,” he murmurs- his frame so close to colliding with yours in a warm embrace, you nearly give in.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, trying to look away, but Namjoon tilts his head until your eyes meet again,

“Why are you sorry, [Y/N]? There is not a thing you have done wrong here,”

You sigh in exhaustion, wishing nothing more than to slip underneath your covers where you long for Namjoon to hold you, though you continuously deny it.

“[Y/N],” the way he says your name in such an eloquent whisper brings you to hushed tears, “I don’t think you realize how lucky you are. You could have married the man for the rest of your life, but you didn’t,”

Never thinking of it in that way, relief floods your senses when Namjoon reminds you that indeed, you are lucky, “Maybe, I shouldn’t have such bad taste in men,” you mutter, him chuckling at you before ghosting his fingers from your chin, giving you space enough to back away.

“Monnie and I have been saying the same exact thing for years, it’s about time you join our side,”

You nudge his arm with your knuckles while you glimpse at him with a hearty smirk, “Why do you make everything so much better?”

“Because I’m the best,”

His gloating is typical Namjoon- humorous, yet charming- causing contagious laughter the rest of the walk, leaving your heart with the subtle longing even when his presence leaves to return to his own home- you wishing nothing more than to follow him instead. Because for once, after years and years of knowing him, you ponder: he always finds a way to make your world brighter, even if he is nearly falling apart- it’s you who in return molds the halves of his heart together- signifying that there is something special – something that flickers the hope that maybe you do have feelings for him you have yet to admit.

It’s the meeting your work holds that ends with Shai timidly glimpsing at you here and there; your shoulders tensing especially with the rumored whispers of theories as to what was witnessed from the previous night with Jimin. Scattering bodies heading in different directions to their office leaves a lingering Shai behind in your presence, still feeling her stare while you compile your things to carry,

“Shai, I appreciate the recognition of the makeup I actually put on today, but is there a reason why you’re acting strange?”

Caught off guard, her mouth becomes agape, her cheeks reddening while she keeps her eyes panning the table, “I just have a question, um, so you know the man from last night?”

“Yeah?” You drag out the word slowly, shoulders rigid as you’re uncertain as to which man she could be referring to.

“Not-not your ex, but-but the tall one,”

Nodding, you bite the corner of your lip, urging her to continue whatever point she’s trying to make,

“Are you interested in him?”

The question hasn’t been asked of you, though you’ve realized you have spent a lot of time with Namjoon ever since his return from America. Why you feel so cornered, you can’t quite pinpoint? Because is it wrong to say no when in fact, it’s possible?

“Well, if not, it’s okay for me to, you know, ask him out, right?” She proceeds to ask if he’s single- waiting for your confirmation as if that’s information you would happen to know. She offers to help carry your things to your office once you answer her question with a terse nod- giving her permission to talk to Namjoon, though it’s not really your place.

As if the day couldn’t get any ‘worse’, or in a better term, ‘annoying’, Taehyung invites the staff to another luncheon, this time involving alcoholic beverages, him getting tipsy enough to subtly make a rude joke toward you. Though you’ve grown used to him over the years, you’ve learned how to tolerate him despite the gossip from the women of the workplace who deem you his favorite due to the fact you handle his demises. After the gathering ends, he proceeds to invite everyone to a karaoke bar not far away- all the women making excuses, in which you make mention you have a lot of work to finish.

“It’s not like you have a man waiting on you at home, come on, let’s go,” he counters- Shai standing beside him helpless while she watches your expression harden in offense.

“I’m pretty sure I never refused to go even when I was in a relationship,” you retort, rendering him speechless, leading him to shove his hands in his pockets out of discomfort. Prancing away with your head held high, you stop to purchase a few of your favorite beers before entering the work building. Stunned the moment you recognize the slim legs of Namjoon who you figure has gotten out of work late.

“Namjoon? It’s late, what are you still doing here?” The happiness exuberating from your smile flickers a hope you can’t bring yourself to ignore.

“Boss had me doing a few extra things, but what are you doing back at the office? Isn’t today your half day?”

“Ah,” you shake your head, “I know, but I still have a few notes I must finish. Also, times I need to schedule to evaluate more bakeries… Are you doing anything later?” Wanting to be in his company is the first thing on your mind, yet your face falls in disappointment when he mentions he has plans.

“Yeah, actually I’m going to the club tonight. Seokjin called asking if I’d like to go with him and Hoseok,”

Curse you, Seokjin, you cringe mentally, but you put on your best smile in an effort to hide the pathetic hope you can’t believe you’re feeling.

“Oh, I see, planning to pick up a few ladies?” You say the word as if it’s a song, though you want to regurgitate at even saying out loud. Shrugging his shoulders, a grin tugs at the corner of his mouth,

“I have plenty of those, so no,”

In your mind, you know it’s just a light-hearted joke, so why does it hurt to think of him with another woman? Fresh out of a relationship, and yet, you’re upset about a childhood friend wanting to mingle with women with the possibility of finding the one, he will marry. When his phone begins to ring, he gives you an apologetic glance which you return with a nod of understanding, Parting ways, he stares after you while you power walk to the elevator, him unaware of your eyes turning to stare at his back while he heads out of the building.

When in the realm of safety, called your office, you switch on music from your favorite KPOP band letting the music flow through the room. A buzz forms after you gulp the first beer, swaying your body with the music. Namjoon, can’t bring himself to leave, and last minute, he texts your brother and Hoseok, canceling for the evening, not revealing the reason out loud that his heart wants to be planted right next to yours.

The elevator seems to be against him, especially with how slow it rises to your floor, him exiting the moment the doors open. Rounding a corner, his eyes scan the glass windows until he sees your silhouette- twirling around the room, flipping your hair from side to side, completely lost in your own little world- oblivious to the now smiling Namjoon whose heart dances with joy overcoming his countenance at seeing you frolic among the room.  

There’s the woman he’s fallen so deeply in love with, and there’s the woman, he one-day hopes, he will hold in his arms for the rest of his life. Besides, one would find it blatantly obvious, as an outsider looking in, especially with the shiny smile plastered upon Namjoon’s face that he is irrevocably entranced by the soul, being you, dancing from side to side unaware to his presence outside your office walls. There is no one like you- there has never been anyone like you in his eyes- someone who he’s secretly admired from afar for all these years but remains to bury his feelings for the fear of what you would say. What your family would say. What his sister would say.

While you continue sashaying to the rhythm of the song echoing in your office, Namjoon disappears out of sight from the glass windows to dial your number. When the screen lights up with his name, you have the inkling to answer, but deciding to ignore it, you whirl around to sway your hips to the beat wondering why he would be calling with the supposed plans he has with your brother. It doesn’t take but a second before you hear a voice overpower the pounding music,

“Why aren’t you taking my call?”

Your heart, as if on cue, thrums whilst a look of shock overwhelms your expression, prompting you to hide at first in embarrassment before rising gradually to face Namjoon who is stifling a laugh while waving slowly to greet you.

“Kim Namjoon! What the hell are you doing here?” You simulate as though you’re annoyed, but the joy of his arrival isn’t something you necessarily want to admit, for you too, have the uncertainty on how to explain the way he’s stirring such feelings you’ve never considered before. With his sly smile, he repeats the question that interrupted your distraction from “work”, but you won’t let him win this argument that easily, “Excuse me, sir, I was working until you decided to intrude on my vibe,”

“Vibe? Is that what the cool kids are saying these days?”

The offensive gape you glare amuses him that you can’t help but boop his smirk with your fingertips- chasing him down with the threat of catching him, yet he zigs zags through your office effortlessly without even an ounce of exhaustion. When the unexpected arrival of a drunken Shai echoes within the hallways, the panic that overwhelms you is enough to shove Namjoon to hide behind one of the bookcases aligning the wall far enough to where Shai may not notice. Namjoon, who is unaware of Shai’s attraction to him, you suppress the thought while you usher her to take a seat, swiping her hair out of her face while tears stream down her cheeks,

“Shai? What’s going on?” When you remember Taehyung, along with Min Yoongi, and other coworkers had an alcoholic planned evening, your heart pangs with guilt for leaving Shai alone. She silences the moment she recognizes the knowledge behind your almond eyes, “It’s Taehyung, isn’t it?”

She nods quickly, keeping her head lowered, fiddling her fingers while her hazy eyes sweep along her tense lap, “He wouldn’t stop talking about my sister and how she broke his heart,”

“Damnit,” you whisper, knowing very well Namjoon is uninformed of the mean words Taehyung flaunts toward you every now and then due to his personal pent up anger. Though you decided not to attend the event tonight, you highly regret having Shai fend for herself. “Shai, I’m so sorry,”

“It’s not like anyone will stand up to him. He literally insults you about your break up with Jimin all the time, yet you let him,” you know she’s intoxicated, especially with the way her words slur, but despite her state of mind, you know what she’s saying is right. Namjoon’s chest fumes with anger at what he’s hearing- wishing nothing more than to approach your boss with the sheer intention of slamming his knuckles into his face; but, for the sake of your job, he knows you may be angry with him if he were to jeopardize that. “And,” Shai presses her fingers to her forehead, “LenLen apparently couldn’t come pick me up because she had some business to attend to. I asked Yoongi about it, but he was no use,”

“Yoongi?” From the way Shai talks, it seems as if she is aware about the relationship you accidentally stumbled upon. When she slowly meets your gaze, her eyes scream that she may have said too much, but you politely urge her to continue, “Yoongi would know about LenLen’s whereabouts?”

“Shit,” Shai sighs, “I wasn’t supposed to tell anyone,”

“Anyone what?”

It’s a strange way that she changes the subject, bringing up Jimin which you are not happy about, leading you to stand to your feet while frantically ushering her out of your office, “I know you were in love with him,” she whines, “So why do you let Taehyung make fun of you for it when my sister dumped him-”

“Let’s be clear,” your hands squeeze her shoulders, “I was not in love with Jimin,”

The tension that had consumed Namjoon’s shoulders from the mention of your ex-boyfriend’s name eases into relief at your words. The hope he has to one day tell you how he feels finally comes into view, which he dismisses for now. Once you finally force her into a taxi, her mumbling her adoration for you-you jog with as much speed that you can gather, return to your office to unlock Namjoon from the trap you didn’t mean to set. He watches you from the window at how adorable you look running across the parking lot- all with the excitement of returning to his rescue- he can’t help himself but throw subtle teases at you for ‘taking so long’ which you reiterate with comments saying ‘well if I would have known you were going to be that way, I would have strolled with the speed of a snail.’

He walks you home as he normally does, refusing to let you be alone at night. He can’t help but bring up the conversation he overheard about the knowledge of your coworkers.

“LenLen doesn’t know that I know,” you confess, running a cold hand through your hair. You cuddle further into your trench coat, wishing the breeze would bring warmth to your aching frame. “In the end, I don’t care if they’re dating, it’s just if the company were to find out, it may not end well for either of them,”

“Yet,” Namjoon tilts his head while his eyebrows furrow, “Taehyung can harass women on multiple occasions and get away with it?”

A sigh of shame escapes past your pouting lips, shaking your head at the truth you wish wasn’t real, but it very much is, and without realizing, you inch closer to Namjoon, his arm brushing yours, bringing a coziness you’ve needed. “He hasn’t touched anyone inappropriately whatsoever; he just has a mouth he can’t control when he’s angry,”

“Still doesn’t make it right,”

“I know,” you wince knowing that not any excuse will make this situation any better.

“I can call and file a complaint. I’m pretty sure it’s anonymous,”

“No!” You gasp, lowering your voice once you realize the volume you held for that split second, “I can- I can handle this on my own,”

“If that’s the case, then how long has this been going on?”

Pausing, you don’t really want to answer because you know how protective Namjoon can be- you’ve seen it with his sister, and with how he became at the presence of Jimin- you will not be surprised if his protective instincts arise if you were to admit it. Instead, you mildly change the subject, “I just- I tolerate it okay? And this whole ordeal at work has been strange anyway. With Yoongi and LenLen dating and not completing documents that Yoongi needed to sign- to the moth infestation at JiWoo’s Café. It just- it reminds me of the time a few years ago when Jeon’s Bakery went through similar instances… Taehyung almost lost his mind to the point he nearly fired the whole staff,”

“I remember Monnie telling me about it. She said she’s never seen you so stressed out in her life,”

“Yeah,” your laugh is breathy, but in an exasperated sense while you shake your head at the memory you have tried to forget about, “the Jeons’ nearly lost their business, but I refused to let it happen.”

“Did you ever consider foul play?”

The thought hadn’t necessarily occurred to you, it’s been years since everything happened, but the survival of Jeon’s Bakery thankfully lives on. When the conversation dies, leaving minds fogged with deep thoughts is the moment you realize you’re nearing your home- Namjoon respecting the fact of not pressing the subjects any further. Freshening up for the evening, the gentle recall of his face smears your mind while you press a plush towel to dry your face; you reach for your phone almost instantly to wish him a good night. If only you could see how giddy he becomes at receiving your message, cuddling into his covers with nothing but the anticipation of getting to see you the next day.

And, if only, he could tell you that.

The following morning, he arises in preparation for work, leaving his apartment to find his sister doing the same, “What are you doing up so early, you ham?”

With a swift roll of the eyes, he waltzes to her side, joining her with the offer of dropping her off at her job, “What do you think? I’m not dressed to impress for the hell of it,”

Eyeballing him, she punches his arm while he fakes pain, Monnie knowing good and well, her punch didn’t have as much impact as it could, “Watch your tone with me, Peasant.” Stepping into his car, she buckles into the passenger side, making herself comfortable before speaking up once more, “Besides, I’m surprised you’re even capable of awakening at such an ungodly hour. Didn’t you just party the night before?”

“Is that what you think I’ve been up to? Since when has your brother been deemed a slacker?”

“Oh, are you really gonna go there?”

The bickering transitions to the mention of Namjoon hardly ever being at home, which Monnie ponders the question on why he can’t just live with her, being the two can save on rent, “Can’t you just respect my privacy?”

Suspicion crosses his sister’s sneer while she raises an eyebrow, “Privacy. Since when does one avoid his sister like the plague without a reason to claim why they need privacy?” You appear on his mind because when is there a time that you’re not on Namjoon’s mind? A tender smile tugs at the corner of his lips which Monnie observes almost immediately, “There’s a girl isn’t there?”

“Which one?”

Grasping Namjoon’s earlobe, Monnie pulls at it, causing Namjoon to panic, “I’m driving! I am driving!”

“And?” She ultimately lets go, turning to face the windshield while droplets of rain become evident on the glass, “Speaking of a girl, do you know how freaked out I was when you called me pretending to be [Y/N]’s boyfriend? I seriously thought Jimin was going to kick your ass,”

“Hmph,” Namjoon switches his hold on the steering wheel, unintentionally pressing down on the gas pedal, “I’m pretty sure that was the least of my worries,”

“Jimin has a history of self-defense classes, I wouldn’t completely dismiss it,”

‘Yeah, but he doesn’t know what I’d do if it means protecting her,’

“And while we’re on the topic,” Monnie waves a quick index finger, “if you ever bring home a snotty thot, I will suffocate you both with my bare hands,”

Namjoon shakes his head at his relentless sister though he knows she has not an idea of his undying crush on her best friend, “But… What if she’s attractive?”

“Can’t be more attractive than I,” Monnie gloats, tracing a finger to place a strand of hair behind her ear.

“What did you say? I think my ears have gone deaf,”

Monnie captures his earlobe tightly within her grip once again, Namjoon pleading sorry until she lets go, “Mhm, about to mute that mouth of yours while I’m at it,”

Another meeting takes place the second your clicking heels sound within the workplace, you retrieve your notes before taking a seat before Taehyung whose lips close in a firm line. The rest of your coworkers file in, hardly making eye contact, and with this meeting not being on the schedule, you’re anxious to know what caused such a last-minute gathering. When pictures of Jiwoo’s Café appear on the monitor above, your mouth drops while your eyes scan each picture. Water has flooded every inch of the place, ruining some of the storage from what you can tell, and though your eyebrows crease with the thought that maybe pipes have busted- you notice in the corner of the photo that the sink had been left running all night. Worry consumes you, especially with the thought of your brother and Hoseok, whom you know were out clubbing last night without a care in the world.

“It would be one thing if this situation was not preventable,” Taehyung folds his hands before him in an ill manner, “But, clearly, it was. And the food cost on top of the cost to get everything cleaned? We’re talking thousands.”

LenLen doesn’t appear as nervous as she had before which you take a mental note of. With her in charge of the store, shouldn’t she at least show some concern? Taehyung continues with his angered rant, threatening to fire someone as he always likes to do, which you choose to ignore, happy to leave once the meeting is over when LenLen and Shai invite you to join them for lunch.  The conversation about the frustration with Taehyung is vague, but you assure the two that you will get to the bottom of this when you can, though you can’t help but wonder why your brother never contacted you about the scenario. Stepping into the restaurant, you’re taken by surprise when you notice Namjoon, who is sitting across none other than Jung Hoseok, who is leaned forward, pressing Namjoon to set him up with Shai which you are unbeknownst of. When greeting the gentlemen, you decide to not ask Hoseok about the mini flooding being you’re off the clock as well as he. Namjoon and Hoseok stand to their feet, telling all three of you to take a seat. An uneasy feeling settles at the bottom of your stomach, leaving a sour taste in your mouth once you notice Shai timidly flicking glimpses in Namjoon’s direction. And, not making it to your knowledge, Hoseok kicks at Namjoon’s foot under the table with the hopes of him conniving on gaining Shai’s attention.

“So,” Namjoon prepares his noodles with the goal of consuming them, but with Hoseok playing footsies, he decides to break the tension, “Where are you from?”

Shai pauses mid-chew, scouring for a napkin to dab her face, “Are you talking to me?”

She wasn’t the only one who stopped mid-chew at Namjoon’s sudden question- your eyes peering at the overly excited girl with the denial that you’re not sure how you feel about her. LenLen remains quiet- solely concentrating on her bowl of noodles in front of her.

“I’m from the city originally, but now, I reside in Busan of course. Alone,” Cringing at what Shai is trying to hint, you barely notice Hoseok immediately jumping at her answer, though she returns the question to Namjoon, “What about you?”

“Sangdo-dong, but moved to Busan with my family at a young age,” Namjoon’s mouth is full of food at this point, but Hoseok isn’t about to give up,

“I live across town in Busan,” his dimples show with his determined grin, “Alone,”

Choking on some broth you slurped, you bury your mouth into the crook of your arm while Namjoon pats your back in a way to calm you, “You alright, [Y/N]?” Taking a moment to recuperate, you nod toward a concerned Namjoon, clearing your throat in an attempt to suppress the tickle.

It’s later that evening when you approach your brother, anxiety apparent upon his face and frame as he paces back and forth within the living room, “So, do you want to explain what happened at work last night?”

Seokjin huffs, leaning his head back while slamming his eyes shut, “[Y/N], I swear to you, Hoseok and I always do a sweep of the store before leaving. I swear to God the sink was off,”

Crossing your arms, you carefully lean against the wall, not letting Seokjin get off so easily if he’s fibbing, “Were there a lot of dishes or something?”

With wide eyes, Seokjin whips his head to stare at you incredulously, “No, we’re not a restaurant, we’re a café, meaning we serve finger foods and desserts, why the hell would we have a lot of dishes?”

“I don’t know! For all I know, the café was busy yesterday! And we’ve already discussed protocol on storing items properly, so what gives, Jin!?”

“Look, I’m just as mind blown as you are. Also, the flour was stored correctly- Hoseok just didn’t have the balls to admit that he doesn’t know how they got moved,” Seokjin’s confession does pang surprise, your hands folding across your chest while trying to make sense of it, “I actually googled if there was a horror story that happened at JiWoo’s Café because how else can I explain to corporate about the sink randomly turning on in the middle of the night?”

Your fingers press against your lips that are pursed in concentration, “Because it didn’t,” you murmur.

The ring of the doorbell jolts you and Seokjin out of your conversation, him sharing a look with you before prodding to the guest bedroom. Overall, you know corporate is going to take care of the water issue regardless, so ultimately there isn’t much to worry about, but the gnawing feeling that something just doesn’t sit right with you seems to bring your suspicions back to light.

Upon opening the door, your eyes widen in sheer incredulity at a nervous Jimin, dressed in a snug tuxedo, who’s lips are quivering with what to say.

“What the hell are you doing here!?” Teeth clenched from the anger boiling within your system, Jimin’s eyes widen with panic as he raises a hand as if to stop you.

“Please [Y/N], hear me out,”

“Hear what out? Clearly, you do not understand the process of a breakup, do you?”

“Listen, just give me a chance to take you to dinner. Let me explain myself-”

“Good night,” his hand stops the door from shutting and with the strength you know he holds, you no longer feel the need to fight; and from the desperate way his eyes flicker between yours, the seriousness behind them unwillingly convinces you to join him, “I just want to make things right, again, just-just please,” Maybe for once he will indeed explain himself; maybe even apologize for making you feel so low all because of a long distance relationship he refused to try; or, maybe he will admit to cheating on you, although you’re highly confident he had been with how fast he seemed to move on. Lost in thoughts, the sight of a familiar restaurant peeks into view, your mouth falling open while your eyes widen disbelievingly.

“You have got to be kidding me,” you mouth, turning to face Jimin who’s eyes sweep outside the car and back,

“What? Do you not like it here?”

It’s not just a restaurant you know all too well; it’s the restaurant- the one specifically raising the memory of a tattered bra, red lipstick and black stocking used to the advantage of Jimin’s second breakup, “Have you been here before?”  It’s a trick question, one Jimin does not seem to pick up on, but he’s smart enough to not answer you with his most recent event regarding this restaurant.

“Yeah, with coworkers forever ago. The food here is pretty decent, but, I-I, we can go somewhere else if you’d li-”

“It’s whatever,” Fumbling with unbuckling your seatbelt, the anger is burning hot upon your chest- you could scream, you could cry, you could pull your own hair out with how inconsiderate a man can be. Bringing an ex-girlfriend to the same restaurant he recently brought another woman- how is that okay? Evidence continues to pile, especially when the waiter greets with a ‘Welcome back’, one Jimin awkwardly dismisses.

“Forever ago, huh?” Gulping, Jimin steps ahead of you while you follow him to the numerous tables- you precisely pick out the table Jimin had sat with the last woman a week ago, you ask the waiter if that’s okay which he nods. Settling down, you fold your arms across your chest once you hang your purse on the back of your chair- Jimin scrambling to unfold the menu which covers half of his face.

“Everything sounds good tonight. I wonder what we should order,” Jimin purposely keeps his attention on the menu to avoid the daggers you’re glaring into his skull. Tilting your head, you set your jaw, tightening your already folded arms in irritation,

“Cut to the chase, Jimin. Why did you come to my house? Aren’t you leaving for Seoul soon?”

His fingers grip tighter onto the menu, his eyes peek nervously at you before wetting his lips, “Uh, can we, uh, order first?”

“Okay then,” you lean forward, clasping your fingers together, eyes refusing to leave his tense frame, “Let’s have what you’ve ordered recently,”

“I-I haven’t been here recently,” Jimin still scanning the menu- the screech of your chair surprises him to the point the menu falls from his hands, you hovering above him with a taunting sneer, “I’m going to use the restroom,” Any excuse that leads you to dial your best friend’s phone number is the ultimate excuse. The moment you hear Monnie’s voice over the line, it soothes you enough while you force a long sigh,

“Are you kidding me right now? Jimin showed up again?” The muffled sound of a car is heard over the line which you assume to be a taxi, except it’s not a taxi, it’s Namjoon, who’s ears tune in when he overhears Jimin’s name.

“You won’t even believe where we are right now,”

“What I don’t understand is why you’re even wasting your time with him. Have you ordered wine yet?”

“…No?”

“Water will have to do. Pour it over his head and leave!” Namjoon’s smirk is hidden in the evening, Monica’s attention remaining ahead of her where the streetlights glisten beneath the moon, it’s what she says next, that nearly shatters Namjoon’s heart to smithereens, “Wait a minute, what did you just say? You’ll see how it goes? [Y/N], whatever he has to say is bull shit. Do you plan on seeing him again?” Eventually hanging up the phone, Namjoon’s knuckles are white from the grip upon the steering wheel, Monnie rambling about the news she has just received, “Jimin showed up again, I swear he needs to let her go,”

“Does she not see what he’s trying to do? Why does she keep giving in to him?” Jutting his jaw, his eyebrows furrow, his concentration on the road becoming hard with the irritation he withholds.

“Well, it’s not like she can help it. The asshole keeps showing up without her permission,”

“She just needs to learn to stand up for herself. She just lets men walk all over her like it’s nothing,”

“Calm down, Joon, I’m sure she’s not going to give him another chance,”

“Yeah, sure,”

Confused, she turns to face her brother, wondering why he’s getting so worked up over her best friend- though she wants to ask out loud, she decides against it, more worried about their safety with him driving more than anything.

Pained silence still has a hold at the dinner table, the waiter placing you and Jimin’s meals before each of you, yet your stiff digits can’t even fold suitably around the fork. Instead, you observe Jimin, who clears his throat before taking a sip of his wine- him mirroring the same rigidity. Shaking your head slowly, his shoulders slump, because he knows it’s now or never- and he knows the only reason you’re here is because of the promise of him explaining himself. When a few more minutes pass, the quiet is filled with a clinging fork against his plate before dropping it onto the napkin.

“I turned down the promotion. I’m not leaving Busan,”

“What!?” Gasping, that is the last thing you want to hear, in fact, you stand to your feet, shuffling for Jimin’s phone, “What do you mean you turned them down!? Call them back! Tell them you’re just kidding!”

“[Y/N], I can’t do that right now, they’re closed! Don’t you want to work things out? I thought this would be the best! For me, and for you!”

“Work things out?” Still handing his phone towards him, he stares up at you in apparent shock which shows he did not expect your reaction to be like this, “How come me not leaving Busan was such a sin when we were together? And working things out? You want to work things out in the same place you brought another woman?” Realization dawns his entire expression, his eyes glued to the table while his thick lips poise in surprise before his eyes trail to lock with yours- he’s speechless because he knows he’s been caught, and you’re not done with what you’ve kept buried within your heart, “Oh, what, you gonna press charges against me? Cause if so, I can do more to add to them,” your fingers curl around the shaft of the wine bottle, Jimin throwing his hands up in defense,

“[Y/N]!”

Fingers slipping to return to your side, you attempt to calm yourself for a moment, realizing maybe assault is not such a good idea, “Originally,” you sigh, “I wanted us to be civil. But you’re so deceitful. And,” you throw your purse over your shoulder, “I would take my advice and call your job back. Seoul has plenty of women for you to fish for,”

Stomping out of the restaurant, you’re taken aback when a strong hand whips you around- Jimin’s frantic, yet you stare at him- air escaping your agape mouth into the icy weather.

“It’s not entirely my fault!” His voice raises,

“Excuse me!?”

“Who was that guy you were with the other day?”

“Wow,” you look away, wishing with all your heart Namjoon was by your side, but that’s not something you will reveal, especially not in front of Jimin.

“See!? I’m not the only one who cheated! You were seeing someone else too! Can’t we just say we both are at fault and move past it? Why are you making me the bad guy!?”

“You know what?” You murmur- gathering your bearings, swallowing the lump in your throat while you cuddle more into your coat. He just admitted he cheated on you- something he’s lied about countless times before, and at this point, you’ve been given enough proof. You can’t do this anymore, and the truth is you don’t want to- he’s done enough, and you’ve had enough, “Jimin, it isn’t your fault. It’s mine,”

When his expression softens, he inches forward, but stops abruptly the moment you finish your statement,

“I’m the one to blame for dating you in the first place.”

Crying isn’t something you typically do, not in this case, and the march home seemed much longer than usual. Tossing and turning all night, you force yourself to get ready for work, going through the same routine of taking the bus, heels clicking into the work building to see Hoseok, coffee in hand, conversating with Namjoon along with a smiling Shai while they’re waiting for the elevator to be available. Hoseok must have picked up a temporary job for the time being until his parents’ café is back in business; and, little do you know, Namjoon’s heart still weighs heavy at the knowledge of you being with Jimin last night. He can’t stop himself, continuing to ask Shai questions upon where she resides, her mentioning a pizza place to which they should visit sometime.

Jealousy rears its ugly head when you grimace at Shai asking for Namjoon’s number, Hoseok immediately grabbing her phone to put his first before handing it to Namjoon. Your eyes remain focused on your cellular device the entire time to the point you almost miss Namjoon’s invite to come with them. He’s visibly hurt when you retort that you didn’t hear him, sauntering off the elevator with Shai trailing behind you. Taehyung isn’t in a good mood which you’ve expected, and he sends everyone on a wild goose chase about another bakery that apparently hasn’t been open for a few days, except he asks for LenLen and Yoongi to stay behind- something that catches you off guard. Shoving the questions subconsciously, you and Shai squeeze into one of the vans when the ring of her phone causes your ears to perk up.

Why are you so angry when you hear Namjoon’s name slip off Shai’s lips? And why do you feel so territorial when it comes to him? Shai cancels plans with him from what you’re gathering, apologizing to him repeatedly. If only you were aware of Hoseok’s ear is pressed to the back of Namjoon’s phone- fussing at him to tell Shai that the two have time this evening to accompany her- Namjoon shrugging off Hoseok’s desperation, wishing he could just be with you instead.

“What happened to the approval that was supposed to be signed?” Taehyung’s eyes steadily observe the employees before him- shoulders tensing while LenLen carefully chews her spoonful of rice. Yoongi raises his head slowly, turning to her with nervous eyes.

“They didn’t make it to Yoongi’s desk,” LenLen’s curt smile could fool anyone, yet she remains unphased, “I’m sorry, Mr. Kim.”

“Is there a reason why they didn’t make it to his desk?”

Yoongi’s heart thuds, wondering if Taehyung is suspicious upon his relationship with LenLen. Never in his life has he been so enchanted by a woman as much as he has her- and, he remembers, despite the confusion, of her saying not to worry about the papers- setting them aside before she distracted him with devious kisses. How he forgot about the documents is something he will take with him to his grave, yet he could have sworn they remained on his desk even after she left his office.

“I must have misplaced them,” LenLen’s voice lowers, digging another spoonful of her meal to distract herself from the way Taehyung’s eyes sweep her fidgety fingers.  

Exhaustion seeps through every bit of your limbs- offering to take the van back to work while your coworkers bid you a good night. The moment you park, you’ve fought to keep your eyelids open the entirety of the drive, slumping into your seat before slumber takes over. Namjoon has worked yet another late shift, ambling to his car to notice someone sleeping in one of the company vans. Recognizing it to be you, he watches while you’re leaned against the car door peacefully, mouth slightly ajar, and he longs for a day where he can wake up next to you- your pinned hair frilly from the touch of the pillow, while the bed covers bundle underneath your chin. Just the thought of your almond eyes fluttering to find him- corners crinkling from the smile that will fill your lips.

Waking up, you return loose strands of hair behind your ear before embarrassment knocks on your door at the discovery of Namjoon who is now giggling at your widening eyes. “Oh, no,” you moan, pressing your head onto the steering wheel, the honk of the horn causing Namjoon to lean back. Of course, his presence includes an evening out to dinner, the two of you ordering your meals- holiday lights dazzling outside the tiny restaurant.

Running his chopsticks along his food, Namjoon swallows in frustration at the memory of last night, Monnie later informing him that Jimin isn’t planning on leaving Busan. Wanting to ask you about it, he does- his tone sounding a tad bit harsh compared to what he was intending, “So, I hear that asshole isn’t leaving Busan after all,”

“That asshole?”

“Ah,” Namjoon lays his chopsticks onto the napkin next to his plate, leaning back in his chair, “Am I supposed to be respectful considering the way he treats you? Or the fact that he’s your boyfriend again,”

“What?” You murmur, though it’s hardly audible- your folded arms slipping from the table while you investigate Namjoon’s stern gape. “Is that what Monnie said? That I’m dating him again?”

“Well… No,”

“Okay, then what is the problem? I don’t understand why you just jumped to a conclusion like that,”

“Because maybe you have a hard time telling him to back off,”

“And is that any of your business?” Silence takes hold upon the tension while Namjoon lowers his head, biting the corner of his lip in culpability.

“I just heard about it all last night, okay?”

“Then that’s something you should have approached me about first before accusing that asshole of being my boyfriend,”

Namjoon finds joy in hearing you curse Jimin’s name, but he knows now that he did approach the subject inappropriately, “Hey,” his voice softens, your lips falling in a saddened frown before meeting his eyes, “I’m really sorry for upsetting you,”

Huffing quickly, you nod your forgiveness, Namjoon awkwardly taking a swig of his beer. The sound of water droplets on the rooftop of the joint prompts Namjoon to turn his head to face the window- eyes flickering around the atmosphere while you take in how handsome he is. Gentle brown eyes shiny against his tanned skin, his full lips parted with the amazement of nature outside, while the line of his jaw sends a desire that causes you to look away.

“It’s raining,” he murmurs, “You have an umbrella, right?”

Peering up at him, you shake your head leisurely, cringing when you remember that you left it at home, “It’s okay, I’ll just walk home in the rain. I’m used to it,”

“But why would you do that?”

The comment rolls off your tongue before you can stop yourself, “You upset me so much that maybe I need it to cool me off,” you take a shot of your beer, keeping your eyes peeled in a direction away from Namjoon’s jaw falling open.

“I’m sorry, okay?”

“No,” you shrug, pouring some more beer into your glass, a smile of annoyance planted on your face, “I should be apologizing for you missing your date with Shai,”

“I invited you to join. You’ll come, correct?”

“And what makes you think I should? I don’t necessarily feel like being a third wheel,”

A subtle smirk pulls at the corner of Namjoon’s lips because seeing how you’re reacting to the idea of him being with Shai ignites a hope that maybe you do have feelings for him. Something he’s been dying to gain since returning home from America, “Why would you feel like a third wheel? Maybe I wanted you to be my date,”

“Oh, don’t start with your sarcasm. I’ve seen Shai, and you’re not the only guy who goes smitten over her. I get it, she’s pretty, but is appearance all that matters to the male population!? Goodness, men are-”

“You’re prettier,” Mid-sip of your alcohol, you nearly choke, especially when the words leave Namjoon’s mouth, making your heart flutter in a way you haven’t felt in such a long time. He timidly avoids further conversation while you pat at your loose strands, him paying for the meal before the two of you step outside. A storm brewed during the dinner to the point the rain is panging heavier than when it started.

“Shit,” you whisper, dreading the idea of walking in the rain though you made mention of being used to it. Namjoon doesn’t even hesitate, telling you to remain under the awning of the restaurant while he sprints to the nearest convenient shop. You gape after him, tilting your head wondering what he has up his sleeve. The ding of the door alerts the employees of yet another presence, Namjoon’s hands scrambling along the umbrella rack- originally picking out two just to return one to the rack, a tight-lipped grin planted upon his face. Once the purchase has been made, he returns to your side- your eyes showing the confusion that he’s holding only one open umbrella, “Why just one?” You laugh, Namjoon gesturing for you to step closer while he holds the umbrella higher, “Aren’t we going to get soaked?”

Both turning in the direction of your home, it’s unexpected the way Namjoon’s expression glows, “I think I have a way to fix that problem,” his arm drapes around your waist; he pulls you much closer to his side showing a perfect way to prevent rain from drenching the pair of you. You’re astonished, but in the most glorious way, you can even imagine, his warmth smothering your chest with giddiness- rain pouring on all sides, yet the smiles upon both of your faces light the world much brighter than even the orange streetlights decorating the paths.

“Want to call a cab?” He peers down at your tiny frame- something he made a joke about earlier where you fended for yourself claiming you’re of average height. His question stirs a mild panic, because for once, the walk in the rain isn’t so bad, especially with the way Namjoon’s arm remains planted around you, your head cuddling into the side of his chest after both of your steps cease.

“No,” you tenderly reply, “I think I want to keep walking… With you,”

There’s a magic in the air that outsiders could feel even a mile away from the couple embraced underneath the crying night. Even when you make it to your doorstep, Namjoon insists on watching until you’re safely inside- him gifting you the black umbrella that you reluctantly accept, thanking him for the evening. His trip home ponders him to settle onto his bed, gazing at the picture he never deleted from when he first watched you fall asleep.

A misunderstanding does fall into place the next evening- one where Shai receives a text from Namjoon in regards of the pizza plans that happened to be missed the day before. You, being informed of it by Shai, pauses, wondering how such a great night with Namjoon could shatter your heart in just 24 hours of time. Unaware, Namjoon has made plans with your brother, bailing out last minute with Shai who is walking alongside Hoseok- expression falling in disappointment at the knowledge that Namjoon will not be attending the pizza date as she hoped.

“He’s going clubbing,” Hoseok nods swiftly, her giggling that she enjoys clubbing as well in an attempt to win Namjoon’s interest. Namjoon politely declines, shoving his hands into the pockets of his trench coat while he watches Hoseok, who came up with the plan this morning, joyfully dancing by Shai’s side while they disappear farther into the glistening city.

Heartbroken and confused, yet again, you make plans with LenLen who sees you’re not okay- the two of you enjoying your meals despite the hushed banter, “I can tell you still think about Jimin,”

“If I told you that I don’t, you wouldn’t believe me,”

“Maybe you should date around? Live a little,”

The conversation turns into LenLen giving dating advice- saying not to take men seriously- how they most likely flirt with every female in order to keep their options open- you biting your tongue about her secret she still has not an idea that you know about it. Doubting everything that has been happening with Namjoon, now the uncertainty of him having feelings for you plague your thoughts. Were you stupid to fall for another man’s tactics? But you’ve known Namjoon most of your life, and he’s never been one to cause toxicity amongst others, and you’ve always admired his maturity in situations. So, why can’t you come to terms that maybe he’s not like any other guy? But, then again… What if he is?

Namjoon bends onto the pool table while he squints his eyes at the ball, he’s planning on hitting. Seokjin waves the video games Namjoon surprised him with from America, thanking him once again while he awaits his turn.

“You know, I was going to invite you over to visit my parents with me, but apparently, Mom invited [Y/N]’s boyfriend over for dinner. And, of course, I’m aware of Hoseok ditching me for some girl my sister works with,”

Namjoon’s heart falls to his feet while he leans against the pool table, Seokjin’s focus remaining on his pool stick as he jabs it- the clacking of the balls sounding through the ringing in Namjoon’s ears. Jimin. Again?

“Boyfriend?” Namjoon tries to keep his emotions at bay to prevent any suspicion from your brother, straightening his back while his hands grip the wooden stick in frustration.

“Oh, I figured Monica may have mentioned him, but he’s some guy my mom won’t shut up about. He comes from a rich background. I could care less about the bastard, but I would never tell [Y/N] that. You know how she is about reminding us she’s our elder,”

“Yeah…” Namjoon takes his turn, head spinning from the news he’s receiving, “He comes over a lot?”

“Unfortunately,” Seokjin murmurs, “Just glad I’ve moved out with Hoseok so I don’t have to deal with any of it,”

“We can still go by there,” Namjoon says it without thinking, Seokjin nodding in agreement while they finish up their game. Why he feels the urge that you may need him he doesn’t know. Maybe if he sees Jimin in person again, he can feel some type of closure in letting you go. If Jimin is who you want, then maybe you should be with him in the long run.

Waltzing through your door after spending the evening with LenLen, your auditory senses are greeted by the familiar clinking of silverware mingled with the voices of your parents. At first, you assume that they’re talking to each other until a third voice makes an entrance, your body rigid from the rage rising within your chest. You’re relentless as you stomp to the living room- Jimin’s blonde hair glistens beneath the chandelier, while he sits at the table before your parents. He nods at you when your eyes lock, him timidly looking away when he sees the pure anger resonating from your stance. Your mother joyfully sprints to you, shoving you towards your room to change into something ‘better’ as she proclaims- spinning around dramatically to tell Jimin to continue with his meal.

When ten minutes pass, you haven’t budged from where you’re frozen before your mirror, the black umbrella Namjoon had given you just the night before leans against your desk. Your mother doesn’t even bother to knock, carefully shutting the door behind her while you immediately tilt your head up, “Why the hell is Jimin here!?” You raise your voice, her shushing you abruptly as her hands' fan in front of your face.

“First of all, I asked you to get ready! And I don’t understand why you’re being so damn selfish! Jimin is perfect for you in every way, and you should be very grateful to have found a man like him,” at some point, during your mother’s pointless banter, it all goes in one ear and out the other, and the relief of her leaving your room sends a frustrated exhale from your lips. You did all that you could when you were dating Jimin; you’ve even dressed up to the point of winning his affection in the bedroom which failed miserably as you recall the night of the breakup. And, you know what? Why not flaunt yourself like you did that night? You’ll show him. You’ll show all of them who is really missing out on who.

The smear of blood red lipstick decorates your lips while dangling pearl earrings match the lacey dress that now hugs your figure. Cleavage prominent, you swiftly straighten your hair, making the last task on your list to be a fresh pair of stockings- the intent of the article of clothing to remind Jimin of the night he was with another woman- the numerous nights he had been with other women.

Head held high, you gradually step into the living room, your father gulping at the sight of your bold choice of an outfit, while your mother gasps in disgust. Jimin doesn’t know where to look- trying to keep his gaze away from the tops of your bosoms squeezing together in the nicest bra you could find in your closet.

“Well?” You spread your arms while you sway to your side, “Is there a reason why you all seem appalled?” You gloat, “I’m sure I’ve put every woman in Busan to shame with this dress, isn’t that right Jiminie?” you’re acting obnoxiously, yet you don’t care, seductively tilting your head while you glare at the back of Jimin’s head, “Why are you sitting away from me, Honey? Look at me,” when Jimin glances at your wide-eyed parents, he cautiously turns to face you, wiping the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand, “What? Do you not like it?” You bend slightly, showing the size of your ass to remind Jimin of the nights he turned you down, muttering on how your sex life was boring due to the lingerie you refused to buy, “Should I have worn an even tighter dress? How about the stockings? Remind you of anything?”

“[Y/N]!” Your mother snaps, you straighten your frame whilst an exasperated giggle escapes your shiny smile,

“Oh, I forgot my parents were here. Oops,” you slur- your dad gesturing for you to take a seat which you do, Jimin having a hard time processing whatever you are doing. Beer is crowding the table with the many different plates of food your mother prepared, yet you turn to Jimin with a whiny request for wine.

Namjoon rests the side of his head on the window of the passenger’s side while Seokjin keeps his attention on the road, “So, have you been seeing anyone since we’ve been home?” He glimpses over to see his friend- distance in his expression which brings a concern to Seokjin.

“No,” Namjoon says after a moment.

“Okay,” Seokjin says slowly, “What about interest? Anyone, that you’re interested in?” He notices the hint of a smile on Namjoon’s face from the corner of his eyes, “Ah, there’s a smile. So, you do have an interest in someone,”

“You caught me,” Namjoon raises his hands in self-defense, “Ask away,”

“Tell me about her. What’s her name? How old is she? Is she from Busan?”

Namjoon contemplates his answers since he doesn’t want to reveal to Seokjin that it’s you, Seokjin’s sister, that Namjoon is hopelessly in love with, “She’s 28,”

“Dude,” Seokjin is shocked from the obvious tone of his voice, “That’s five years older than you, have you gone mad? That’s our sisters’ age. That’s like you dating my sister,” Namjoon glances at Seokjin while he proclaims on how creepy it is to date an older woman- Namjoon remaining silent for the rest of the drive, pain evident on his face now knowing your brother would disapprove if Namjoon’s feelings for you were to be made known.  

Chugging half of your second beer, since Jimin failed at bringing wine, you wait for the perfect opportunity of Jimin’s lips molding to take a sip of his beer when you face your mother, “So, mom did dad ever cheat on you at any point in your relationship?”

Coughing, Jimin buries his mouth into his hand that curled into a fist, sliding his beer further from him while your mom’s eyebrows furrow at your random question, “No. No, your father’s been faithful. Wh-”

“What would you do if he wasn’t?”

Your father stares at you in distraught, yet he seems to catch where your conversation is headed.

“I’d smack him upside his head-”

Hesitation is not part of your vocabulary in this section of time, for your palm, with all the strength you can muster, slaps the back of Jimin’s head while he cringes beneath your touch. The burn of the hit lingers within your palm, while your parents freeze in realization- your dad raising his voice to ask what you’re trying to get at.

“Wait a minute,” your mother counters, while Jimin rubs the back of his head, “Did you… Were you seeing another woman while courting my daughter?”

Jimin drops his gaze to the table, running the tip of his tongue over his lips in panic.

“I’m- I’m- I don’t know what to say,” your mother says in obvious disappointment. Your father rises slowly while he glowers at Jimin who raises his arm in a plea to your father, but it’s too late, he attacks Jimin, slamming him onto the table while bowls of food hit the floor- your mother getting in between the men while Jimin begs for your father to let him go.

“When is everyone going to start acting like adults in here!?” She bellows whilst scampering for cloths to clean the food stains off your father’s sweater.

“Look,” Jimin’s hands fly before him, “I messed up, okay? But I am not the only one to blame here! [Y/N] cheated, too! She’s seeing someone now!”

“Jimin!”

“Oh, are you going to deny it!? Do you think that it’s simple for me to come here? Your parents practically begged me to-”

“Then why the fuck did you not say no!?” Gasps escape from both of your parents at the choice of words you have chosen. But you are so livid, you could care less. “For heaven fucking sakes, Jimin, where is the respect? If only I had a few more drinks in me, I’d smack the shit out of you even more!”

“You know what?” Jimin clenches his jaw, settling to his knees before you, “Hit me then. Put me out of my misery. Do what you need to feel better, I just want to fix things here.”

“Like you’ve had such luck with patching things up before,” you mutter, “It’s not happening, Jimin,”

“Why?” Jimin taunts, standing back to his feet, “How about you tell your parents why you no longer want to be with me, huh? Who’s the man who told me to fuck off at your work? You dodge the question because you’re just as guilty as I am!”

Crossing your arms, you inch closer, a sneer present on your red lips, “Accusing me makes you feel so much better, doesn’t it,”

“Then why can’t you admit who he is? I’m going out of my mind about it, just fucking tell us already-”

“I like him, okay! But that was after my relationship with you!” Your voice is loud- so loud it carries throughout the house, stunning your parents as well as Jimin as they gape at you, “I really like him, you have an issue with that Jimin? Huh?”

“Oh no,” your mother groans as she collapses on the couch, “No, no, no, no-”

Seokjin bursting through the door makes matters worse to your mother as she clambers to tidy the table with whatever she can salvage while everyone’s attention turns to see not one, but two men, joining everyone in the living room. When Namjoon trails behind a wide-eyed Seokjin- Jimin’s expression shows astonishment as he points a shaky index finger toward Namjoon, whose eyes are too busy looking at the ensemble he has never seen on you before. A look that’s distracting him from the tension smothering the vicinity.

“That’s- that’s him! That’s the guy!” Jimin’s desperate- desperate to clear his name of any negativity, though he truly is the only one at fault for infidelity. Grasping your arm tightly, he drags you an inch forward while you struggle to get out of his grip, “You need to explain to everyone!”

Your parents are jumbled with who Jimin is exclaiming about at first, but when they realize his crazed eyes have yet to leave Namjoon’s, they know exactly who he’s referring to- but, Namjoon is more focused on the tightening grip Jimin has on your arm, Namjoon grits his teeth while he swallows slowly, “Let go of her.” Stepping forward, nobody has time to blink when Namjoon clutches the front of Jimin’s suit, dragging him roughly toward the outside of the house while Seokjin hysterically chases after them. Panicked voices of your parents scream towards what seems to be the start of a feud.

You can’t move. You just remain speechless while your hero intervenes once again. 

#bangtanhq #btswritingcafe #kafenetwork #btswriterscollective #heartsforbts #ot7 #bts #bts fanfic #namjoon #kim namjoon #bts namjoon #bts kim namjoon #namjoon fanfic #namjoon x reader #namjoon x you #bts kim namjoon fanfic #18k + #namjoon fluff #jimin angst #bts angst #bts fluff #bts soft #namjoon romance #bts romance

[lamiasluck]

Ink Obsession

(Here something quick I wrote in between art trades because I need to write my own characters more gfkjhdsg)

Designing a tattoo sleeve takes a lot of thought, especially for Noah. He wants the art on his body to be perfect, down to the smallest line. Unfortunately, that can be hard to achieve when he's so critical of his artwork. He'll still use any opportunity to sketch things out, though. Every. Single. Opportunity.

Here’s Noah so you can get his vibe

-

“This looks shitty…” Noah aggressively erased a line in his drawing for the fifth time. It was a simple flower petal, but he scowled down at it like it was insulting him. Too crooked, too skinny, too sharp. Never before could something so cute instill this amount of frustration. Still, he tried to redraw it. “Shitty, shitty, shitty…” He leaned back against the chair with a heavy sigh. This needs to look perfect if it’s going to be on his body. His drawing hand was becoming sore, though. Just a small break would do.

“Don’t move too much, please.”

He looked at his boss, Jacob, with a blank expression. Then, he picked up his notebook and showed Jacob what he was working on. “Do you think this type of flower arrangement would go well with the vines? I’m trying to get it to match the insects and birds too.”

Jacob looked at him with a small sigh. “Noah, I’m saying this because I care about you, but how about you focus on one tattoo at a time?”

Noah glanced down at his left arm, where Jacob was tattooing the vines he was talking about in the first place. He nodded at the sight. “It looks good so far.”

“That’s not what I mean and you know it.”

“Oh my god, get off my ass. I’m drawing this while I have the motivation. I’m just sitting here otherwise.” There was no bite to Noah’s words while he rolled his eyes at his boss. “You’re taking this out of my damn paycheque anyways.”

“You’re taking away valuable time that could’ve been used for a customer, why wouldn’t I?” Some would wonder if Jacob was joking, but with how dry he said that and the innocent tilt of his head, it was impossible to tell.

Noah gave up trying to figure that out ages ago. “Yeah, yeah, just tattoo the fucking vines already.”

“As you say, potty mouth.”

For about 5 minutes, Noah sat in silence while Jacob tattooed him. The dull pain was something he got used to at this point. What hurt more was how bored he got sitting there. He kept glancing at his unfinished drawing, looking over all the fine details. Did that stem always look crooked? Since when did that dragonfly look scared? The petals on one of the flowers was completely wrong too! It was like he never held a pencil in his life.

“Fuck, stab the needle in harder and kill me…” he groaned through gritted teeth.

“You’re overthinking it, Noah.” Jacob lifted the needle and sat back, briefly cleaning the ink while he could.

Noah gestured to his drawing like the problem was obvious. “Look at it. It’s fucking horrible. I need to start it over.”

“Usually when people talk like that, they’re fishing for compliments.” Jacob picked up the sketchbook to look it over. “I can tell you genuinely hate yourself, though. I commend that.” He picked up the pencil too.

What Noah expected was for Jacob to fix his drawing for him. Instead, the weird man wrote a small A- in the corner where his signature would be. He furrowed his brows and hastily took back his stuff.

“The fuck are you doing?”

“It looks nice.” Jacob shrugged. “Though, I guess my only criticism is that drawing nature while angry might cause problems.”

Noah looked over everything again. Some lines did look too sharp.

“Relax yourself, you’re too tense and I know it’s not because of the needle. Imagine you’re the flower swaying in the wind. Peaceful and fluid.”

“Tsk. Whatever.” Despite the attitude, Noah took a deep breath before putting his pencil to paper again. Why did he want something like this to be his sleeve? Well, nature was always pretty. It would also look nice, he wouldn’t grow out of it, and it was serene. Serene.

The wind blowing through the wind and making the flowers dance. Vines that crawl up every surface to coil and thrive. A minuscule insect buzzing by to collect pollen. He took another deep breath and pictured himself there; the hot sun on his skin as he looked upon a field. No town, no gangs, just him within nature. He found himself smiling softly at the thought.

“That looks nicer,” Jacob muttered as he started up the tattoo gun again. The dull pain returned, bringing Noah back to reality.

“Huh?” Noah focused on his drawing, blinking. The flower petals look perfect. Even if it was shaded in black and white, he felt like he could touch it. “I guess so.”

Jacob smiled at him, before taking his pencil and turning that A- into an A+. “I’d say that’s ready for line art, however,” he gestured to Noah’s left arm, “can we focus on this for now?”

Noah huffed, rolling his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, take your time with it.” In the meantime he could-

“You’re not allowed to start drawing another tattoo.”

“Fuck you.”

---

tags: @shy-marker-pliers @alvie-ashgrove (tell me if you wanna be tagged I get nervous about tagging people gfjkdhsgfh)

#my writing #oc: Noah #my ocs

[sloppy-butcher]

Can I get some hcs for Freddy x reader who have like very love/hate reltionship? Like they annoy eachother constantly but still seek each others company. Thanks!

This is the first time I have ever tried writing for Freddy and to be honest, I am quite nervous I did him wrong. Please forgive any ooc characterizations i may accidentally give him - i tried my hardest to make him accurate to the 80’s version (yes, this one will be based on old freddy not the new one (2010 remake), hope that it okay <3) i also hope that you don’t mind if i make the reader a killer as i am only comfortable writing for freddy when the power dynamics are equal

Thank you for the request and i hope these are good enough for you 

Headcanons for The Nightmare (Freddy Krueger) with a Killer!S/O who have a Love/Hate relationship

When you are an obedient little dog, when you kill mercilessly and the Entity grows fat from your bountiful supply of food, the spider-god showers you with rewards. Most forms of these appreciations take a physical appearance (new and terrifying outfits to adorn during your daily workouts or new weapons for you to play with). But there were some gifts that were intangible, and otherworldly and oh so irresistible to you - dreams. The Entity lets you sleep if you do well in trials and sometimes even offers you sweet, beautiful dreams. They were indulging at first, so totally vivid in their detail and color that you could almost lose yourself completely in their daydreams. It was a spider web most wonderfully and intricately made. A labyrinth of the mind. But it did not take you long to notice the spider lurking in the corners of his creation.

You spotted him often hiding under the shadow of trees, just standing there in the corner of your eye - one look and he would vanish without a trace. You would have thought nothing of the strange occurrence had it had only happened once and in only dreams. During your walks in between realms, you’d spot the man through the treeline. He was unmistakable in his silhouette and in the way his eyes glowed a horrid orange. You did not fear him however, he was no worse a monster than you were. Rather you were annoyed by his presence in both reality and dreams. 

You bend down and pick up a rock, turning it over in your hands testing its weight and size. “Hey!” You shout at the man who halted his retreat into the dark, night wood at the sound of your voice. “Stay out of my fucking dreams, asshole!” You throw the rock at him, narrowly missing him and instead, striking a tree.

“Such a temper.” A hoarse voice coos from somewhere behind and you spin around to meet it. It was him, moving faster and quicker than air and appearing next to you, closer than ever before. You got your first good look at him. His skin was a sore pink leather and he smelled like smoke. “Trust me, sweetheart, I would if I could. Your dreams,” He takes out a hand covered in razor-sharp knives and mockingly strokes the hair out your face, “, are so boring.” You snatch his hand away from your face, barely noticing the sting of blades in your soft palm and the trickle of warm blood down your forearm. You did not grimace, did not cower, and did not back down. He grins at your defiant expression. “And here I thought you’d thank me for giving you the chance to live in such a wonderful world. I’m hurt,” He feigns agony, his free hand placed sorrowfully on his chest, “, good work always goes unappreciated.”

You scoff and show your teeth. “I would prefer nightmares if it meant I wouldn’t get to see you.” The man laughed and flexed his knife-fingers, fresh blood oozing out your wound.  

“Oh babe, you and me both. I don’t like this babysitter gig anymore than you do.” He leans closer grinning with his horrible yellow fangs, the scent of a recent kill seeping off his tongue. “I prefer nightmares anyway.” 

“You look like a nightmare.” You spit into his face, finally letting go of his weapon and glaring at him. He laughs again.

“You are a feisty one. I think you and I are going to get along fabulously.”

Of course, he did not heed your warning for that very same night you saw him again in your dreams. Though now, he made it a point, not to hideaway. He approached you and actively talked to you, following you around your dream like a resistant plague. He commented on your shit reality, on all the things you could have wanted to dream of, and yet you only wanted to be in an empty field at the brink of dawn. He shakes his head and degrades your poor taste with even more snarky comments. You knew you couldn’t do anything to him while in his dream but in the physical world - well, that is a completely different story. 

If he was going to bother you while you slept like a buzzing mosquito, you decided to bother him when you were awake. In the real world he was much less intimidating, that aura of cosmic power that bubbled around him while in a dream state, was not present in the night air and you smirked at his weakness. You mentioned his height, asking how anyone could be scared of such a small man. He’d lash out, swinging at you with both his blades and his harsh tongue.  He was easy to toil, easy to wind up but a task to deal with. Freddy could take a punch to his pride and deal out damage times 10. 1 mean-spirited remark deserves 10 more. 

Freddy thrived on this back and forth. Ordinarily, he would turn his nose up at the idea of bickering with another killer - sure, some of them were fun, simple minds with which to bend and manipulate in dreams but most were already so twisted in their own self-delusions that well, he just didn’t find them all that interesting. But your mind was sharp and quick, built in the skull of a hardened murder professional yet dainty enough to still yearn for the sunlight world of goodness. A perfect balance. It had been a very long time since last Freddy had had a conversation of equals - a real conversation where the table was not shifted in the favor of either one. If he said something that crossed a boundary or hit a nerve (a task he sought out to do almost every night) you would turn on him, shoot daggers at him with the sole intent of murdering his little ass. Sure, it never really scared him but there was no denying that in a way, to spare with an equal really turned him on. To be challenged. 

There were times when he would become too much. Like the static on a dead radio station, he would drone on and on about a certain topic he knew would heat your blood. Always poking his stick deeper and deeper into the bear until you’d bite. Luckily it was quite simple to turn him off - just don’t sleep. You never really needed to rest in the Fog anyway, tiredness never made its claim over your bones even after a long day at work. Sleep was merely a reward, after all, a gift that could be refused if so desired. If time could be recorded within the Entity’s world, then the longest you had gone without sleep, and without seeing that little creep, would have been 2 months. He had really pissed you off when in a dream he produced a small songbird and made you watch as he melted its skin off - all for sport. A sight that did not necessarily make your skin crawl but one that irked you. It was always a game with him, a competition to see who would break first and try to strangle the other. And, to be dead honest, it was starting to annoy you more than anything he could say or do. So you stopped seeing him, stopped dreaming, and stopped seeking him out in the woods. You were tired of always trying to be bested and frankly, his childishness was wearing you thin.

But there was no denying that in that quiet that ate up the space where Freddy used to stand, a strange loneliness would grow incredibly heavy and dreadful. You missed his rather repulsive company, his witty and sharp tongue always keeping you on edge and on your toes. There was no way you could stop your head from turning around to look for him, seeking out his small frame among the dark wood. It was lonely without the flies, silent and decaying slowly.

For the life of him, Freddy tried to move on. He had never tied himself to one person before, never allowed himself to latch on to anyone save for his favorite little toys. But with you it was different. It was fun to annoy you, it was fun to torment you in dreams. It was even fun when you reeled at him, hackles raised threatening to kill. It was exciting, it reminded him of the joy of being powerful and alive (in a sense). And when you never took his bullshit sitting down, when you'd raise to meet his call, oh how it set fire to his heart. To be challenged. He could feel himself wither away, the interest that you had sharpened only seemed to dull and break off in your absence. He’d hate to admit it, but he missed you. Missed your noise and missed that sweet dream of yours.

Both of you are too prideful to confess to the other that you were lonely. But when, one day, you find yourself dreaming a familiar vision, that built-up residue of solitude melted and you turned to face Freddy eagerly.

“Did you really think you could not sleep forever?” He crossed his arms over his gloating chest, a snake tongue flickering victories in between teeth. “I always get my prey.” You smirk, not surprised in the slightest by his rather rude welcome back. You look around at the grassy field surrounding you both shining a brilliant emerald, the sun feeling warm on your back, and the fresh, clean air carrying with it the scent of spring flowers. 

“Aw, you missed me, Frederick?” You tease him with his unused full name, casting a devilish side-eye to the dream-demon. You see a flicker of panic, alerting you that you had hit the nail on the head before he spits and loudly proclaims,

“Don’t be so far up your own ass!” His golden eyes gleamed pure hatred at you. “It's not a hat.” You laugh at the face of the fuming man, knowing that despite how his actions appeared malicious and distasteful, there was no feasible way to deny that the dream he had made for you was spectacular and expressed something deeper than just surface-level annoyance. 

#dbd imagine #dbd x reader #dbd the nightmare #dbd the nightmare x reader #dbd freddy krueger #dbd freddy krueger x reader

[astrologysvt]

SVT as Boyfriends - Jun

this reading is more geared towards their habits in relationships and romance! as opposed to their ideal type readings, this has more to do with how they express love, what their preferences/comfort levels are, and what to expect in domesticity and intimacy with them. i also used “you” instead of “s/o” because writing s/o over and over was getting tiring lol. 

i mentioned this in his chart first impressions, but jun has such a young chart. 

he is SO earnest in love and affection. 

he’s not afraid of intimacy because he has no shame in those emotions and the ways he expresses them. 

experiencing those emotions and then expressing them is a very immediate chain reaction for him. 

with that being said, his attention is pretty hard to maintain and he doesn’t particularly like the feeling of “plunging” in terms of emotions, so there’s a sense he may want to gloss over the more intense details/nuances of discussions and moments. 

he’ll probably try and laugh it off and distract you if you try and have an elongated heart-to-heart. 

with that being said, his taurus mercury and mars are incredibly loyal and committed so that intensity is going to show up in times where you need him. 

you’ll understand how invested he is when you’re in need of affection, support, feedback, etc. etc. 

he’s so enduring in that sense, to the point where you will never once doubt whether or not you have someone to fall back on. 

i’ve found that gemini placements, regardless of where those exact placements are, thrive in light environments. 

he’s a very lively and cheerful boyfriend, and is going to thrive if he can be his unadulterated playful self in relationships.

not only that, but you can really rely on there being a playful set point with him. 

regardless of how serious conversations/situations get, or how serious the relationship is -- he’s always going to want to maintain an environment where jokes can always be exchanged. 

i think he’d be really bummed by and resentful of a relationship where humor couldn’t be used to make light of situations.

this is primarily because these gemini placements are quick to feel bogged down if things get too heavy, too often, and with no relief. 

but also because he’s a very communicable/excitable/distractible guy.

he wants to be able to direct his attention wherever, and to drive conversations with you in any direction you guys so please without fear of that being interpreted as impersonal or insensitive of him. 

he loves the feeling of intellectual discovery and expansion with his partner

and so discussion, curiosity, and imagination are going to be very important influences on his interactions.

and so while there is a part of him that’s certainly very reliable in relationships thanks to those taurus placements, he needs that kind of comic relief so he can maintain a feeling of freedom/openness that geminis rely on to navigate.

and this just goes with the fact he’s such a cheerful, optimistic guy! 

especially in relationships, this guy is going to be such a lively conversationalist. 

he’s an interesting partner to experience things with as his reactions are so funny, dramatic, and his mind is so all over the place that you’d simply want to know what he noticed/didn’t notice. 

expect CONSTANT jokes. 

a lot of back and forth. 

plan to join him on the most random paths of interest, may it be voicing over spongebob clips or making hotdogs with him on his new rotisserie hot dog machine. 

his aries moon is an interesting influence in relationships. 

he’s very excitable, but associating this fiery sign with the moon gives him these incredible bursts of energy. 

he’s going to express himself very physically, may it be through affection or some good-natured teasing. 

there is a great desire for action in life and relationships, and this is where you just get the most left-of-field bursts of energy and obsessions. 

then you throw in those taurus placements that aren’t very concerned with what other people are doing as they’re super stubborn in their methods and wants. 

he’s going to be as weird as he wants, when he wants and would love if you joined him or at least humored him. 

he doesn’t have a whole lot of significant aspects that are going to be related to relationships, but he does have this moon square jupiter. 

his aries moon is already super all-or-nothing, and generally doesn’t understand moderation -- especially with regard to emotions and relationships. 

but this square aspect with jupiter not only expands his emotional responses, but creates a confusion with them in a lot of different ways. 

he’s got a bleeding heart in this sense which makes him quick to express his love and appreciation, and with that he’s very quick to demand affection as well. 

he also doesn’t really understand his own strength with intensity/enthusiasm.

expect just random “PLEASE HOLD ME” moments. 

this may also make him hard to please and VERY needy, but it’s also super endearing so, ya know. 

you win some you lose some. 

this placement also creates a great deal of vulnerability. 

he’s incredibly eager to give more than what he can afford in terms of emotional bandwidth, and this also creates a disillusion in how to get his own emotional needs met in turn. 

he can kind of feel like he’s only losing, and that he’s grasping at straws in order to feel a sense of satisfaction on his end. 

this also makes him INCREDIBLY dramatic in expressing himself, so certainly expect to have to coddle and care for whiny/adorably overbearing jun when he decides to come out. 

but in all seriousness, it’s important that he’s reminded that he needs to put himself first some times and that it’s okay to be a bit stingy in attention if he needs to be.

it’s also good to encourage him to be more discerning with who he offers this side to. 

what’s super interesting is that both of his gemini placements are conjunct in his sun and venus, and his taurus placements are conjunct in mercury and mars. 

because of that you may notice that there are two modes to him that flip flop. 

he’s very gemini in how he intrinsically is by himself and in relationships, but there’s that taurus influence that makes him very secure underneath it all and how he communicates this part of himself.

there’s that one one side where he’s excitable & potentially hard to pin-down.

and another part that’s very enduring, present, and reliable. 

having his sun conjunct venus, his personality and his attitude in relationships are very much the same. 

the way to woo him is very similar to how it’d be if you tried to befriend him, and that’d be to just make him laugh and keep him interested. 

intellect is going to be a huge contributing factor to romance for him, so he’s going to express his love in words and would want the same in return. 

on top of that, communication is something he constantly needs. 

not only does he like feeling that energy around him, but communication is how he determines how present you are regardless of how serious the conversation is. 

your receptiveness to jokes/ideas/anecdotes is INCREDIBLY important to him as it grounds him. 

it should be said that gemini venus’ have a pretty bad rep in that they have the potential of being pretty flighty, and easily bored in relationships. 

with that being said, going back to my prior point about having to maintain a kind of playful baseline is going to be what manages to reel in a gemini venus. 

they just have such active minds that, when it comes to relationships, they really struggle if they’re being forced to work against that nature that just wants to do things for the sake of doing them. 

especially with that aries moon. 

freedom is an important thing to maintain as restraints are something they avoid at all costs. 

that sounds like he’s going to be distant/impersonal, and i went into this in wonwoo’s ideal type with his gemini placements, but really it just comes down to letting love and commitment being HIS choice that makes all of the difference. 

forcing him into a corner, over-interpreting acts towards independence, and making him second guess his more impulsive habits are going to be what causes him to second guess a relationship. 

so let him do his thing, don’t be offended if he randomly just retreats and pursues his own path/adventures and understand he will always report back to check on you and update you with the weirdest anecdotes. 

you can also always expect for him to bring back weird gifts because of how delighted his gemini is of those weird trinkets, how impulsive of a buyer his aries moon is, and how his taurus placements mean he really finds a great deal of value/charm in the material. 

there’s always going to be the most endearing sense of eccentricity with him in relationships, maybe it be in oddly-timed jokes or extreme bursts of energy. 

then you have his taurus mercury and mars. 

this man is so stubborn!!! 

SO STUBBORN 

he has his comfort levels and preferred methods and wants to do things at his own pace. 

whether that’s fast or slow is totally up to him. 

taurus also adds a sense of luxury. 

he loves being lazy with his partner, spending days doing nothing but sleeping, eating, and cuddling. 

he craves establishing a sense of domesticity in relationships. 

as much as he loves the exciting highs, what really gets him to commit is that sense of home, stability, and comfort.

i can see him loving to gift stuffed animals?? 

his aries and gemini love the things that are cute and light.

but then those taurus placements deeply understand the importance of comfort with an emphasis on the material, so something like a stuffed animal that he could give you that would make you smile and give you comfort when he could not??? he’d love that??? 

not only that but with taurus in his mars, he loves the idea of gifts as physical representations of his devotion 

and so finding the cutest little friend you can sleep with and keep in your room would make him so happy. 

when it comes to intimacy, taurus placements are known as some of the most romantic placements -- especially in mars.

he has a very slow-burning approach to love and intimacy. 

he wants to enjoy your presence, be in the moment, and let affection naturally flow. 

he’s leisurely about these things, and with that you have this benefit in that he’s incredibly present in those moments. 

with the other earth signs, you kind of have the sense that they are looking elsewhere or that they’re attention is too broad. 

you have capricorn that is constantly looking to be resourceful/proactive, and then virgo who is constantly trying to sort/mediate energies. 

but then taurus that is just straight up CHILLING. 

and this is partially because the senses are super important to them. 

and so being able to experience the full spectrum of those senses is something he both craves and strives for. 

being able to remove his intellect forward part of his brain and focus on the purely physical is something that feeds his romantic heart. 

he’s just a sweet guy.

i think it’s so funny because he’s this strong mix of TWO OF THE HIGHEST ENERGY SIGNS in gemini/aries, and then one of the signs thats known for BEING THE SLOWEST in taurus. 

he wants to do things at his own pace and is probably SUPER slow to get into a relationship and to get to that super intimate point with someone. 

friendship is super easy with him and he almost collects friends, but that taurus love is something that’s super coveted in him. 

not only is it hard to retain his gemini focus, but his taurus can be -- in the nicest way possible -- dense about these things simply due to how literal they can be. 

but once he’s there he’s THERE. 

he’s so dedicated and generous. 

and circling back to the youth in his chart, if fun is maintained, he’s not once going to question the relationship. 

if his basic needs for freedom, fun, and security are met -- you’ll find his distractible gemini will give way to the parts of his chart through aries and taurus that want to be all-giving & all-consumed in love. 

#seventeen #svt #junhui #jun #wen junhui #seventeen scenarios #seventeen imagines #hoping this is english pt. 3423432432

[ofsigrids]

hello  my dearest fellow writers ! i’m  eden,  my pronouns are  she  /  her  &.  reside  in  the  est  timezone.  i’m  so extremely excited to be here and apologize for this being late & a little vagueish being insanely busy right before christmas. without further ado though let me introduce you in part ( there will be a google doc coming with prettier things trust me! ) to the second love of my life - Sigrid!

synnove karlsen, 25, aryndale, cis-woman. ––– i believe that is sigrid dudley nee thrane, the duchess of limburg. they are twenty five years old and are known to be very captivating & perspicacious, though they can also be very enigmatic & calculative. they remind me of flowers raised from killing fields tended by hands that know their cost, words whispered into the ears of mighty men and to magnificent beasts and the elegance and grace of a wildly capable woman.  tw mentions of death, war

I. ━━ GENERAL.

NAME : sigrid gisela dudley nee thrane . ( if you are a friend you can call her siggy )

AGE : twenty-five. 25

COUNTRY OF ORIGIN : aryndale.

FORMER TITLE / S : none.

CURRENT TITLE / S : lady sigrid dudley, duchess of limburg

ASTROLOGICAL SIGN : scorpio. scorpio sun & taurus moon.

II. ━━ PERSONAL.

SEXUAL ORIENTATION : heterosexual

ROMANTIC ORIENTATION : heteromantic

PERSONALITY TYPE : infj, the advocate.

MORAL ALIGNMENT : neutral good borderline true neutral 

HABITS : a knowing look, biting her lip, quiet but extremely detailed observations

SINS : lust  /  greed  /  gluttony  /  sloth  / pride  /  envy  / wrath

III. ━━ TRAITS & PERSONALITY.

cowardly     ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ●      brave

energetic    ○ ○ ○ ● ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○     lethargic

forgiving     ○ ○ ○ ● ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○      vengeful

charitable     ● ○ ○ ○  ○ ○ ○ ○ ○     selfish

authentic     ● ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○      deceitful

chaste     ○ ● ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○      lustful

humble    ○ ○ ○ ● ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○     boastful

naive     ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ●      experienced

cautious     ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ● ○ ○ ○ ○      daring

restrained     ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ● ○ ○ ○ ○     bold

trusting     ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ● ○ ○      suspicious

IV. ━━ PHYSICALITY.

HAIR COLOR : dark brown ( depending on the time of the year it does get lighter )

EYE COLOR : dark brown.

HEIGHT : 5′5.

WEIGHT : 120lbs

BUILD : ectomorph.

ACCENT : slight. vaguely scottish in nature

PITCH : middle register. an appealing almost silvery tone that does get a little melodic when she talks faster but not sing songy

SCARS & BIRTHMARKS : Most noble women have fairly dainty hands, skin unblemished and untarnished by the ravages of hard work. Sigrid’s hand though softer and faded, are scarred. she grew up an orphan in a mountain village taken in my their horse master needless to say sigird grew up knowing a hard days work. Sigrid also served as a scout / spy when aryndale joined the war before she married the duke of limburg so our girl has scars.

V. ━━ BIO  POINTS.

Before there was a great lady of limburg, before a duchess once again wandered the halls of house dudley, before there was title to her name a girl had none. Sigrid had no family, no family name, no relatives to call her own but a simple point of origin. A girl was born for all she knew in the village of thrane high in the mountains. Who her parents were, whose blood ran through veins she couldn't tell you but a babe was taken in by the horse master and his wife. They would raise a young woman to survive her world and she she thrive no matter her start in the world. They would teach her about Aryndale's greatest treasure. Horses.

She grew up learning the secrets of the great beasts, marveling at such magnificent creatures learning she preferred the company of the animals more than people and her adoptive father saw she had a way with the massive animals. Even the most wild and seemingly untamable of mustangs calmed at her touch, continuously risking her life to tame wild horses. In another life Sigrid often wondered if she had been a great mare that had ruled the countryside with a great mob at her back when men did not inhabit these lands just yet as if she were the legends ever aryndale citizen knew. It was no idyllic existence, no wonderful youth like many women of her eventual station would have tales of. It was many years of learning a trade, of toiling with rugged earth and stone to carve out an existence and the expanding of the horse masters influence in the surrounding areas. Weeks were spent on occasion by the side of the hunters leaning the ins and outs of the mountains and its passes and the secret places to find game to feed the village that was her home.  It was many days of whispering words into the ears of massive chargers, the hearty aryndale steed breed for war and peace both filling them with ideas of being legendary and of the things they would one day accomplish even becoming the mount for knights and kings. It was hours of the horse master's wife teaching her etiquette and proper manners despite a girls desire to run off and join a traveling band of merchants or entertained ideas of becoming a warrior. Either way they would ensure she'd be capable of living a lie of her choosing. It was an unfortunate thought they both shared that she'd make no man any real wife destined to be a spinster no matter the attention the boys in the village paid to an orphan girl.  They doubted war would come to pass and the village of Thrane would continue on as it always had and the horse master and his ward would work to supply the nobles of aryndale far and wide the best horses there were and provide their services as farriers, trainers and on occasion as trick riders. Sigrid did love it no matter how hard it was or the challenges every day presented with it would of course give her an edge later in life

She was a fine looking thing at sixteen, a mane of hair as silken as a prince's mare, a backbone to her and the complete availability to do whatever she wish. The threat of war consistently loomed over head like storm clouds that refused to release their rains and with such a close proximity to it potentially. When it did come to the borders of Aryndale her caretakers knew exactly where she would run to. Directly into the thick of things, to war, to serve king and country and protect a village entirely too close to the war. Sigrid lied about her age when she enlisted, declaring she was eighteen and due to the wealth of information she had was placed directly into a scouting position under the charge of duke dudley's son.

Would you believe that in the middle of a war against incredible odds in the thick of danger and death constantly two people were capable of falling in love. Sigrid Thrane as she called herself now, as it had been signed on her contract served as a spy and a scout had more than a dozen times saved her commanding officers life. Three full years was spent in freezing rain, in mud and dirt covered in blood and the constant threat of death together and two universes that had no possibility of colliding before became intertwined. In close quarters the two increasingly sought out each others company. The duke's son would tell her about his home, about the land he was eager to get back to and she would whisper of fairytales, horses and military strategy. They talked about lives after the war if both survived being so close to the front lines and he asked her after three years od serving together and seeing each other at their worst if she'd come back to his home with him. Could Sigrid see a future with the son of a duke? In answer to him she said these exact words. "For three years you have known me now - you knew that I lied about my age in order to fight for Aryndale, you've seen me at my most unattractive self and we've survived much and spoken at great length of dreams and foolish ambitions and how we would make a world better. My question to you Dudley is could you see a future with the daughter of no one?" A week later the two were married, recalled from the front lines for a small leave to celebrate their nuptials.

A choice had to be made and it was a heavy and hard decision to make despite newly wedded bliss. Which of them would return to Limburg and which spouse would go back to the war to serve aryndale and their allies? Despite her husband's protests and desire to keep her with him Sigrid reasoned with the mighty man that she could've have him unnecessarily going out of his way to save her risking the life of others in his command to lose more life. She would go back to his ancestral home without him to an ancient father in law to help aide in a necessary part of the war effort. Feeding their troops, supplying horses and help minimize the already heavy strain of aryndale's resources. Giving a kiss goodbye, Sigrid sent him back to the front lines, to the scouting party he led into dangerous missions to take on an even more monumental task.

Arriving at Limburg it was clear the place wasn't untouched by war, nearly ravished and run down. Villagers hadn't paid takes and had little food that wasn't already given to the troops and her father in law who would resist her aid for a short while was losing his sight and the ability to govern his duchy properly. Rolling up her sleeves, pulling back her hair and with a fierce determination to return the duchy of Limburg to its former glory the new duchess put her heart and soul into restoring her. Sigrid a newly wedded nineteen worked with farming families, with merchants and laborers to not only work down their seemingly insurmountable debts to house dudley without taking food from their children and doubling their annual yield. She worked in the fields scorched by fire and still smelling of death to show that this was as much a fight for nobles and commoners on the home front as it was for their warriors on the front lines in defense of their nation. Sigrid won them over, every last soul her husband would eventually have charge over and in the end even her father in law called her his most beloved daughter and a blessing to his house. Sigrid too would help where she could acting for the man to carry messages, to provide suggestions and strategies she'd offer forward as the old man's before it was noted they came from the young duchess proving herself an invaluable asset to the crown and the war effort much to the honor of house dudley.

It would be six years until the war would halt, six years for her husband to return and know the struggles she faced in the aryndale interior but the flowers risen from killing fields, grown out of soil that had seen blood and tears and his wife's hard labor to fix it and the lives of those in the duchy of limburg. Understandably there is some distance between the two as there are only so many letters that can sustain a marriage and they have barely laid together more than a few times in the entirety of their wedded lives. They’ve changed as individuals - they are strangers now really learning about one another again despite shared experiences. Here away from their home in the neutral zone this is a new realm of existence for her. The world in which she became a lady and fought tirelessly on front lines and to restore her husbands holdings was one where the definition of lady was altered. Rules here are different and she is a different. A relative unknown to all despite a select few she was involved with regarding the war effort they will soon know her.  Ever a most captivating woman she  breaths life into all she does Sigrid is bound to traverse these uncharted waters and make a splash. Truthfully perhaps they should be afraid those who know nothing of her as she will reveal nothing to them but sees more than those who were raised in this life of princesses and politics. Lady Dudley, despite how unsure of this new territory she is will do what is necessary. Sigrid will help her king and husband make a success of this even if she’s an unpolished lady with much to learn about really being one beyond a few etiquette lessons. 

VI.      ━━  CHARACTER RELATIONS. ( more to be added )

UNKNOWN  (  father,  deceased?  ).

UNKNOWN   (  mother,  deceased?  ).

HORSE MASTER BURGRED  (  caretaker/adoptive father, unknown  ).

ALFRIEDA (  caretaker/adoptive mother,  unknown  ).

DUKE  AERON DUDLEY (  husband; 28+,  wc! name can be changed  ).

VII.      ━━  WANTED  CONNECTIONS.

Again like Altain all the things! I will have specific wanted connections on the google doc that is taking me forever and a day but I’m a firm believer in brainstorming something special to highlight both characters and help build this gorgeous world so please hit me up!

#imperialrp.intro #a hot mess but it will do

[tslasvegas]

Episode 2: “I am typically regarded as a joke” - Livingston

Anyways... rip Colin, no idea who that was.. obviously Okay well I think we are out of the first impressions stage of this game and I think I've done an okay job of not making a strong impression one way or another, except to DeNara who I've been talking to most consistently since the start of this game. Except for today lmfao I was NOT active on purpose but I'll try to get to that in this confessional. I saw that the tribe went on a call so I decided to join and chit-chat with the girlies of this tribe and I've gotta say.. I'm lowkey disappointed to learn that despite being a returning player, everybody else on the tribe is friends with each other. Aside from Mo it sounds like they all know each other one way or another and I'm kinda left out of that connection. Even though they might not all be friends, it is a bit uncomfortable to be in a call with people where you know NOTHING they're talking about and you're not catching any of the jokes or references to other games. Also, I noticed that the personalities kinda blended together and these aren't people that I'd get along with in other orgs I play, so.. oops. One highlight of the call was that Nik was talking about Rachael and they were saying that Rachael got rid of them, I believe. Basically just talking about how they view Rachael differently because of that I guess? I was kind of in and out during that. But then DeNara posted IN THE TRIBE CHAT when it was just us three plus Kailyn on the call that Nik was spilling tea... and it was just. so. cringe. Idk if Nik or Kailyn noticed and the fact that everyone else was acting so nonchalant makes me think I missed something but either way I was on mute howling bc of second-hand embarrassment. As far as my current position, I do feel a bit comfortable with where I'm at because although I AM uncomfortable being left out of the friend group, normally I thrive early game when I get underestimated. I'm trying to just not make waves and stick to whatever plans come my way and hopefully people don't view me as a threat. Every time I'd leave and rejoin the call everybody was talking about totally normal IRL stuff so it doesn't seem like people are playing the game yet, but last round I did make a bit of an alliance with DeNara for the time being. Despite feeling like an outsider, I'm going to just continue to look at the positives of every situation because as a pessimistic person by nature, I'm inclined to feel doomed in any scenario. But this is my redemption season. I'm not here to get tenth place, I'm here to win and this season will prove itself to be an uphill battle and I'm just getting started. Tumblr Survivor has always felt like the story of Sisyphus and the Boulder to me. Look into the deeper meaning of the story and I promise a lot of the details do kind of relate to me and my character throughout my run in this community, but the general idea is that I've been tasked with a chore of having to push this heavy boulder up a neverending mountain in Hell. As a returning player, I've faced a lot of hardship when I could've just gotten the outcome I want the first time, and each return to Tumblr Survivor, I've pretty much done worse and worse since then. I'm ready to finally push that fucking boulder out of the underworld and bring myself back to the playing field I deserve to be on. For now, I'm just going to keep pushing.

So glad we won that first immunity. Why am I not surprise to see a unanimous vote for the first tribal. Even a self vote.... hopefully we win again today 

I’m already over this tribe. Keegan and Liv are the only fun ones to talk to, Joey I think tries but also doesn’t. Also low key hoping people don’t know too much about Svalbard cause if people know about Rachael and I being close that could be a problem. I’m not letting my work schedule get in the way of my activity, but it’s a bad sign to me when I’m of the most active people on the tribe. I should be the baseline, not the gold standard

I think our Tribe is a bit laid back. Not much interaction, not really that engaging. I hope Jake and Kevin did a good job at the challenge, I don't want to go to Tribal again. The typhoon here passed, I hope Tribal passes too!

Woo we got out the main inactive person. Although really my entire tribe is quiet and lowkey inactive, but Jake and I talk a lot in PMs which is good. Also Stephen is doing his best with timezones so I know he wants to play bc he's always on when he is able to be on. The next biggest inactive person on the tribe is Kevin, but he instantly volunteered to do the challenge so yay I guess. If we lose though, he is still an option to go in my mind. I'm not trying to make too much of a plan because we could win this challenge and then I'm going to try to open the vault because if we come in first I will have 10 chips. But I still need to figure out if it costs 10 chips to open the vault or if you're just not allowed to look at it until you have 10 chips.

You want a confessional, well here it is. Nothing has happened. To be honest, I’ve barely even spoken to anyone today. Or yesterday for that matter. It’s also been quiet in tribe chat.

I finally got my tribe on a call. Most of them joined in, at least for a little bit so that was nice. The only person that wasn't on call was Ben, which kind of paints him as the outsider of the tribe right now. 

...five seconds later

I want to get to know Mo better and maybe set up some sort of alliance with them, but they are so spotty with when they are on, it is difficult to keep a conversation going. I am not chill enough for this game yet lol.

ok. so like that's annoying. that challenge was supposed to be fun but jake is making a big stink. and like yeah i'm mad too but like it's over and it's just a game it's not like actual money lol. also, i don't really care if we go to tribal. makes you stronger. whatever. i'm sure he's a nice person but like i think he's just mad he lost. whatevs. 

Nik and Rachael did our challenge and won. Thank goodness it wasn't me! What my tribe will soon come to realize is I am basically useless at challenges. Rip me.

...five seconds later

Yay! Mo finally asked if I wanted to work together! Took them long enough ;-) jkjk I am excited to finally start playing this game

So after a heated and undeserved loss - sorry Dan I know we talked about it but I'm sticking to my guns - I start packing my bags. All of a sudden Stephen wants to target John, John wants to target Timmy; and nobody is throwing my name out there... Like... Hello? I just got into a public fight with production, shouldn't I be target number one? And now, Xavier and I are the swing votes... How the hell did the worst Tumblr Survivor Player and a 45 Year old man end up stuck in the middle? What the hell even is this season?

WE LOST AGAIN. So now which alliance to choose?! 

I can't believe this round. I should be the target, why - why am I not the target? I lost the challenge. I yelled at production. I am the easiest vote, but nobody is voting me! What is happening?? Timmy and Stephen made an alliance chat with Xavier and I to vote John. John and Kevin are working together to vote Timmy. Xavier says - "Jake tell me what to do!" Timmy and John are both telling me everything the other one is saying to each other, and it's amazing. I have no idea how Xavier and I are voting tonight. On one hand, you have Stephen and Timmy who seem like a really strong duo. But Stephen trusts me a lot, and if I vote out his closest ally than I'll go down that list - which could be trouble in case of the inevitable swap. John is MY closest ally, but if we vote him out the team is much more united. Do I play for ME or do I play for WE? I'm 95% sure the vote is going to be 4-2, and people are going to be blindsided.

“Theres three tribes! Means we’re less likely to have back to back tribals” -_- sure jan. So we lost again, blergh, looked like an annoying challenge. The tribe is still pretty muted, who knows whether they’re voting for me or not. I made a 4-man alliance with Timmy Jake and Xavier, which i do want, but we’ll have to see if everyone is legit. The two bad possibilities are if everyone is actually voting me for various reasons (timezone, round one oopsie, etc.) or if the real vote is jake for arguing with dan. idk, time will tell. From my POV the vote is John, pretty randomly just based on the fact of who competed in the challenge.

Hiiiiiii So I am very excited to be back in the game again. I very much enjoy my original tribe especially Andrew. We already have a Pennsylvania alliance with Stephanie and I think that that is good groundwork to have moving forward should we ever lose a challenge we already have three that are tight in at seven so if we hear anything about any of them targeting us we can do something about it. I like Livingston a lot and Joey but I can’t tell if Joey is 14 years old or not and that kind of bothers me. I am v excited to get with Kevin and see where me him and Andrew can go 

Winning is great, but we need to lose the next one or it’s gonna be a weird spot if the first swap is at 18, although it is very possible that it’s at 16. I don’t want to go into a swap with all the agency being with Luxor, or us having the most players because in both cases we get painted as the targets. Bad news all around

I have yet to confess but here goes! I feel very good on my tribe. We seem to be doing fairly well at comps so far and I would love to continue to miss Tribal as much as humanly possible. I have talked to everyone on my tribe in some capacity but I am not trying to be the one to initiate like alliances and shit before we even have to attend tribal. I just wanna be chill and lay low while also being a good member of the tribe whom people like. Keegan and I have a mutual agreement to make sure each other gets far. I got first boot in my last game and he has never made single digits here in Tumblr Survivor so let's change that. One fear with working with Keegan is that he knows how I play. I played his game, Forest of Horrors, and got rocked out at the Final 7. Keegan has since told me that I was runner up for Player of the Season. I am typically regarded as a joke in this community but Keegan is someone who knows how I play and respects how I play. This game is an entirely different scenario so I am going to likely try to keep my connection up with him.

So the vote seems like it's going to be John Coffey. I'm quite sad about it for a few reasons. He is really nice and I know we work well together in games and he is a very loyal player. Also, Jake had an entire temper tantrum last night after results and that was just extremely annoying. But, Jake is more active and talks to me more while John is a rare sighting. Tbh I would rather it be Kevin but I think they're getting a pass since they participated in the challenge...always next tribal because knowing this tribe it's a strong possibility. I swear if the next challenge is a music video though I will punch a wall since that will be my death sentence since I do not participate in those. I never feel comfortable so I just don't. If we go to tribal as a tribe of 5, that might not be that good, so just really hoping that that is not the next challenge.

ok here's the tea guys. i am pretty solid in my tribe right now. after this vote tonight there 5 of us, and 4 of us are in an alliance, which is good. HOWEVER, i'm solid with the 3 people separately. that's put me in a good spot for a tribe swap/merge. obviously we're like years away from a merge. but we could tribe swap soon. we shall see! 

[recentanimenews]

FEATURE: Visual Novels Strike Back in Fall 2020

  Content Warning: While otherwise safe for work, this article discusses games made in Japan's 18+ visual novel industry. It does not talk about individual games in-depth, or detail any offensive content contained within; nevertheless, curious readers should expect those games to be suitable only for adult audiences.

  One of the more memorable first episodes of anime this fall was Talentless Nana, a thriller series starring a young student with a dark secret. Curious to see why my friends were excited about it, I did some research of my own and found something bizarre in the process. Talentless Nana was based on a manga whose story was written under a pseudonym: looseboy. "Could this be the looseboy I know?" I posted on Twitter in a daze. "looseboy, the porn game writer?"

  Like the main character of Talentless Nana, as a young student, I too had a dark secret: I played visual novels. I read all three routes of Fate/stay Night. I soldiered through Muv Luv. I sought out the anime Humanity is Declined specifically because the source text was written by visual novel luminary Romeo Tanaka. These games could be overstuffed, repetitive, and deeply sexist. But don't underestimate visual novels. YU-NO upended conventions in 1996 in such a way that modern games steal its twists and are still labeled forward-thinking. Infamous video game auteur Hideo Kojima cut his teeth working on spin-offs in the hugely influential Tokimeki Memorial series. And Hajime Isayama, the creator of Attack on Titan, admitted in this interview in Brutus Magazine that he had been inspired by the 18+ mecha epic Muv Luv Alternative.  

Image via Funimation  

During my student years, some of the most popular games in the field (at least among English speaking fans) were those with scripts by looseboy — most famously, Sharin no Kuni and The Devil on G String. Games remembered for their memorable protagonists, tear-jerking melodrama, and shocking twists and turns. They also had sex scenes in them (not very good ones) because that's what games of that type were supposed to have. It had been years since I'd thought about Sharin no Kuni — I wasn't even sure if I still liked it. But here looseboy was again, in a completely different medium, shocking a whole new audience of readers and viewers.

  For visual novel fans, this fall season of anime is a bonanza. You have a remake (or is it) of rural horror epic Higurashi: When They Cry, masterminded by creator Ryukishi07. You have a new original series, The Day I Became a God, scripted by crying game grandmaster Jun Maeda and his buddies at PA Works. Then there's Akudama Drive, an explosive SF grindhouse series based on a concept by Danganronpa scribe Kazutaka Kodaka.

  Image via Hulu

  It hasn't always been like this. In the past few years, light novels have outstripped visual novels as the source material of choice in the adaptation coal mines. Series like Higurashi or Clannad that were popular in the 2000s were gradually replaced in the popular imagination by newer works like Re:ZERO -Starting Life in Another World- and My Teen Romantic Comedy SNAFU. Kyoto Animation, a studio once known for producing lavishly animated renditions of games made by the studio Key, pivoted years ago to adapting light novels and manga (not to mention its own original works). It's not difficult to see why; light novels, manga, and even proper novels are easier to adapt to the medium than visual novels. It's already difficult to squeeze the multi-route structure of often stupendously long video games into the time limitations of anime — not to mention their sometimes deeply gross and problematic content, sudden perspective switches, and even total changes in genre. It took years for the creators of Fate/stay Night to figure out how to make its full story comprehensible to a wide audience. What hope could anybody else have?

  Meanwhile, the visual novel industry is changing. Some of the talent I followed in the 2000s are doing just fine. Fate/GO, a phone game written by Fate/stay Night creator Kinoko Nasu and his team of former industry luminaries, became popular not despite the long and convoluted visual novel bolted to its gambling simulator but because of it. STEINS;GATE and its progeny continue to thrive, and Ryukishi07 — the creator of Higurashi and the later Umineko: When They Cry — toils on his new magnum opus. Other creators in the field are struggling. The visual novel company light — producer of chuuni games like dies irae — folded last year due to poor management. OVERDRIVE — known for music-inspired visual novels like Kira Kira — labeled its newest title Muscius! as its "Final Project."In the United States, an early boom in Kickstarters and English translations — with former fan translators gladly pitching in with their expertise — gradually stalled under claims of exploitative working conditions and Steam's hot-and-cold relationship with the medium as a whole. In the face of the popularity of anime, manga, and even light novels, it's hard not to see much of the visual novel industry's old guard as a tiny, stagnant niche.

  Image via Hulu

  But the medium's heart still beats in all-ages visual novels, thanks to the sudden success of two new stars. Kotaro Ucihikoshi — co-writer on cult visual novel Ever17 — found surprising success in the United States with his twisty pseudoscientific thriller 999. Kazutaka Kodaka's hilariously crude and violent (yet deeply heartfelt!) Danganronpa series has built a hardcore fanbase willing to grapple with each entry's whiplash-inducing twists and turns. It's no surprise, then, that the two of them have found their way into the anime field. Uchikoshi contributed the script to MAPPA's underrated sex comedy PUNCH LINE, while Kazutaka Kodaka worked with hardcore games nerd Seiji Kishi to produce anime-original sequels to the Danganronpa games. Uchikoshi and Kodaka now work together at the company Too Kyo Games, one of Japan's most promising "middleware" developers. Their name is front and center on this fall's Akudama Drive.

  The anime industry itself has become steadily riddled with former visual novel writers. Gen Urobuchi, the scriptwriter of 2011 smash hit Puella Magi Madoka Magica, got his start writing shock-horror games like Saya no Uta. His work on PSYCHO-PASS (and love of martial arts) is foreshadowed by his earlier writing for cyberpunk games like Kikokugai: The Cyber Slayer. Then you have the creative lead on popular visual novel White Album 2, Fumiaki Maruto, who went on to script Classroom Crisis together with the director who went on to adapt My Hero Academia at BONES. And my favorite episode of schoolgirl horror anime SCHOOL-LIVE! — the third, from the perspective of the teacher Megane — was scripted by visual novel writer Hikaru Sakurai, now busy writing for Fate/GO.

  Image via Hulu

  If visual novels are often overlooked by the mainstream games press, their influence on pop culture is stronger than ever. The Persona games, an inspiration on everything from Fire Emblem: Three Houses to Supergiant's recent indie classic Hades, take heavy influence from dating sims. The deeply weird action-RPG Nier Automata, which made a legend of its director Yoko Taro despite being released in the shadow of The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild back in 2016, takes undeniable influence from visual novels and the denpa (a person who feels disconnected from those around them) aesthetic. Even developers outside of Japan are paying homage with vaporwave mystery drama Paradise Killer seeking to beat Danganronpa at its own maximalist game.

  Yet it's projects like Talentless Nana that stick with me — looseboy made his name working on small games highly prized by a few. But he jumped ship to the manga world and now a comic popular enough to receive an anime adaptation bears his name. How many other visual novel writers from the old 18+ market are out there working under pseudonyms on manga and in other fields? How far does the influence spread? Will we see Shumon Yuu or SCA-JI writing for anime? Only time will tell.

  What is your favorite series airing this year from former visual novel talent? What visual novel would you love to see adapted into an anime? Did you know that you can now pick up The House in Fata Morgana at the incredible price of 0 percent off? Let us know in the comments!  

    Adam W is a Features Writer at Crunchyroll. When he isn't fervently praying that Girls' Work still has a chance of being made, he sporadically contributes with a loose coalition of friends to a blog called Isn't it Electrifying? You can find him on Twitter at: @wendeego

  Do you love writing? Do you love anime? If you have an idea for a features story, pitch it to Crunchyroll Features!

By: [email protected]

#Anime #News #Latest in Anime News by Crunchyroll!

[jdc1717]

Red birdie pt.1

Basically: The group ends up in Lorule and our favorite Lorulien gets hurt.

This first part is pretty calm, but the second will have blood and some abuse talk so don’t read if that’s not your thing.

-<>-<>-<>-<>-

The group had all been traveling around the plains Wild’s Hyrule when it happened.

The wind stopped, all sounds froze, and it seemed as if time itself had ceased. Next thing they knew, the world shifted underneath their feet and they were all picking themselves off the cold ground.

“Wow.” Wind said as he viewed the dark world around them.

It looked like some nightmare version of Hyrule. The sky was dark, like a never ending night. There was a threatening silence to the air that put them all on edge. Worst was the cold. The absence of the warmth they had known throughout all their lives.

“What is this?” Sky whispered. He seemed horrified at this dark world.

“Lorule.” Legend answered. He was too busy admiring the dark shadow of a castle looming in the distance to notice the others. After a few moments he added, “It looks better than last time I was here.”

“How could this have possibly been any worse?!” Warriors exclaimed.

“The grass used to all be dead and it was a bit darker.”

“Legend, what is this place?” Time asked. Even he seemed disturbed by this warped world.

Legend rolled his eyes. “Like I said, Lorule. It’s… it’s basically another world that’s a bit different than ours.”

“A bit?” Four mumbled.

“Like the Twilight?” Twilight asked. He had given the group an explanation about his adventure with the Twilight realm.

Legend thought about it for a minute. “Yeah, kind of.”

“What’s wrong with this place?” Wind asked.

The hero of Legend’s eyes narrowed, “Nothing that isn’t being fixed. C’mon, let’s go to the castle.”

“To meet Zelda?” Four asked.

With a smirk Legend answered, “Someone like her.”

And off he went, ignoring the rest of the groups questions and only telling them a few warnings about what and what not to do.

-<>-<>-<>-<>-

It was the next day when they reached the castle. Broken towns full of cruel people had been common as the group traveled which didn’t do much to improve their spirits.

Except, for once, it seemed as if Legend was pleased. There was a way that he held himself. A way that he took in the world around him, like a breath of fresh air. The others couldn’t understand it.

Why would Legend enjoy such a dreadful place?

Despite their many questions, Legend wouldn’t talk. Sure he would say things, but the details—the emotions— weren’t there. The hero of Legend says so much and yet so very little.

As they approached the castle guards drew their weapons at the nine of them. Effectively blocking the gate.

“Halt! State your—“

“Link?” The guards were interrupted by a young girl, no older than Legend. She stood right in the gate, the guards immediately withdrew their weapons.

Her hair and lips were a dark purple that seemed to match this gloomy world. The girls skin was pale, as if her skin had never felt the sun. Then there were her eyes. Those blood red eyes that held so much pain and so little much hope.

The girl seemed far too old for her young age.

Legend waved, “Hey Hilda.”

The next thing the group knew the girl—Hilda—was giving Legend a bear hug.

“You disappear for months without telling anyone! Do you know how worried we all were?”

By the surprised face Legend was making it was clear that he had no idea.

“We’ve all be so on edge. Waiting to see you return or just waiting to hear of your death.“ Legend looked highly offended. “Don’t make that face! We all know what skilled adventurer you are, but even the best can fall.” The girl spoke so gravely. It made Time wonder what horror the young princess had been through.

“Excuse me, but what is happening?” Warriors interrupted.

Both Legend and Hilda turned to the group. “Guys, this is Princess—“

“Queen.”

“QUEEN Hilda of Lorule. She rules this place. Hilda these guys are…”

“Time.”

“Sky.”

“Twilight.”

“Wild.”

“Four.”

“Wind.”

“Warriors.”

“Hyrule.”

Hilda blinked. “Those are… interesting names.”

Legend sighed, “You have no idea. We should go inside. There’s a lot to explain.”

Hilda nodded, “Indeed.”

The inside of the castle had the same darkness that seemed to fill the world. Light only game from the many torches and lanterns that filled the interior. Yet the place had an unexplainable feeling a familiarity that none of them could shake.

Legend seemed to be affected by the feeling too. “I’m never gonna get used to that.”

Hilda glanced over to him with an amused smile. “You and Zelda were the ones who gifted it to us.”

“That doesn’t mean I’m used to it!”

The rest of the group listened to Legend argue with the girl, they both seemed quite happy bickering with one another.

“What are you talking about?” Wind exclaimed. He was desperately curious and needed to know!

Legend, who was starting to become the biggest annoyance any of them had ever known, smirked and lead them all to a set of double doors.

Hilda walked right next to Legend and after a look, they opened them simultaneously.

Running in first, Wind gasped. As the others filed in after they too were stunned.

There it was, on a pedestal. It glowed like the sun and brought back so many memories.

The Triforce.

But it, like this world, was different.

“It’s upside down?” Sky inquired, tilting his head like a puppy.

“Can’t get anything past you.” Warriors was smacked on the head by at least four different hands, much to Legend’s amusement.

“This is Lorule’s Triforce.” Hilda said.

“There’s more than one?” Four asked.

“Lorule is what you might call the flip side of Hyrule. It looks similar, but there are big differences in personality, among other things.” Hilda explained.

“Is that why the Triforce is upside down?” Hyrule asked.

“Our Triforce was always like this. It’s only a matter of perspective.”

“Earlier,” Time said, gesturing to the halls behind the doors, “you mentioned how Legend and Zelda gifted this to you.”

Hilda nodded, “Link and Zelda were kind enough to grant us a wish for the sake of Lorule, even when we didn’t deserve it.”

Legend gestures wildly around the room. “You didn’t deserve to slowly rot away either!”

“I was ready to kill you. To leave Hyrule to suffer our fate so that we could thrive.” Hilda whispered viciously.

They all froze. Legend had never mentioned Hilda doing that. Thinking about it, Legend didn’t really talk about Lorule(nor Koholint, but none of them even knew about that).

Legend never mentioned Lorule by name, always referring to it as a darker Hyrule.

He had told the story in a black and white way. Good people who were forced into bad things, ultimately leaving them good. But it seemed that his story wasn’t as black and white as it seemed.

“Hilda, you were trying to save your world. I can’t blame you for that.” There was a surprising gentleness in Legend’s tone. He almost never talked to so kindly.

Hilda looked up at the triforce, “You and Zelda are too kind. Lorule could never hope to raise people like you.”

“Don’t sell yourself short,” Legend smirked, “Lorule is getting better. Don’t think I haven’t seen it. Besides, Lorule doesn’t need people like Zelda and me, it needs people like you…and Ravio.” He added as an afterthought.

Hilda’s eyes widened into saucers, “I forgot about him! Link, before you all arrived Ravio had been on his way to Hyrule to see if you had returned!”

“What!” Legend growled out a few curses(Sky was not amused, Wind was though), “The idiot is gonna get himself killed!”

Not wasting a moment, Legend ran out the doors they just entered through.

The eight other heroes said quick goodbyes to Hilda and rushed to follow him.

Legend was surprisingly fast and had already made it quite a ways before everyone else even made it out of the castle.

The hero of Legend ran across the field and went to a hill with a small house on it. It looked broken and vacant and worn down.

Ignoring their shouts, Legend threw the door open and darted inside.

The others were quick to get to the door and follow. Only, when they entered the house yet saw a flash of movement as Legend traveled through a crack in the wall.

Warriors and Wind rushed to the colorful crack that may have been through the universe itself. Both gripped it and tried to pull it open in an attempt to follow their friend.

Not knowing what else to do, the others watched.

It was only minutes later that Time forced them to stop.

“Save your energy. Legend will come back and until then we’ll stay here.”

No one had any arguments. They all were worried, but it seemed that all they could do was wait.

To pass the time, and give more room, the heroes worked together to push all the clutter away. Twilight, Warriors, and Time all did the heavy lifting. Sky, Hyrule, and Four handled the fragile things. And Wild and Wind worked together to make food(Wild was mostly telling Wind what to do).

While Twilight was moving a box full of who knew what, a small book fell from it.

“What’s that?” Hyrule asked.

All eyes turned to the small book on the floor. Hyrule walked over and picked it up. There was no title, maybe it had faded away.

The hero of Hyrule opened the book, his eyebrows furrowed as he read it.

“What’s it say?” Wind asked. He was constantly shifting from one foot to the other.

The troubled look remained on Hyrule’s face as he read, “Three days to go. She wants to do the right thing. I want to help her. But leaving is my only option.”

“What the heck does that mean?”

Warriors wasn’t the only one wondering.Everyone was confused. What did that mean? Who was the person the author referred to? They needed to know more.

“Two days to go. She’s being duped. Doesn’t she realize that? He’s just a leech. There’s no choice but to go.” No one bothered to say anything as Hyrule continued. “One day they go.” Everyone looked at each other. “I have so little magic. Enough to go there—maybe not to come back. But tomorrow must be the day. I may never see her again, but I vow to save her from all of this.”

The group just continued looking at each other. No one was really sure what to say.

Hesitating a bit, Sky said, “I—“

A loud thud(along with more curses. Sky was going to kill someone)interrupted him.

On the ground there was Legend and Ravio. Legend looked scuffed up, like he had been in a fight. Ravio was...less alright.

“Hyrule get over here and help me!”

They had never heard Legend so panicked.

#Hero of Legend #Ravio #Hilda #Legend #linked universe #dani writes

[izzy-b-hands]

Heaven Shall Not Shut Thee In Pt. 2

And here’s the second one! Took some details from the original version of the NATM scripts, which talk more abt what happened to Ahk to land him in a sarcophagus, and just sort of went from there in terms of working canon in here lol. This isn’t my happiest fic by far, but I’m glad to have written it. 

A big ass warning for violence though. It is in this, and explicitly described. I’ll add a tw tag of violence, but if y’all need additional tags on it pls let me know!!

My love to all who read/like/reblog!

The halls of the museum are quiet when he wakes. The lights are on, exhibit spaces empty of their inhabitants, but it is silent as death.

When he finally finds them, they are all in the main hall, huddled near the front desk around Larry. 

“Not yet. I promise, I will show him this. But not now. Let’s give him a heads up first, let him know there’s something he needs to read, and he can look at it on his own-” Larry is saying as he approaches.

“He will need comfort,” Teddy interrupts. “And company. It will be devastating to him, Lawrence. We cannot even begin to imagine the pain it will bring Ahkmenrah-” 

“What will?” he asks, and they turn almost in unison. 

“My boy,” Teddy says, and rushes through the crowd to hug him. It’s a bear hug, but a comforting one, even if he doesn’t know why he is deserving of it in the moment. 

“Tell me,” he says gently, and Teddy lets him go with a sigh. 

“Well,” Larry starts. “They’ll have to update the plaque. The informational one about you, in your exhibit. There’s been a discovery, apparently. Some of the other staff were talking about it and I found the journal article and...look, you don’t have to read it right away. Only when you’re ready.” 

He moves quick as he can, and grabs the article from Larry’s hand before he can pull it away.

A article from a scientific/historical journal. ‘The Death of Ahkmenrah: A Mystery Solved.’

He skims it, then goes back to reread it, and lets Larry and Teddy help him to a chair at the desk as his legs weaken.

“The discovery of a new tablet, found amongst otherwise unremarkable sands, has solved an ages-old mystery. How did the young, and presumed healthy, Ahkmenrah die? Little information has ever been found to hint at it, even after excavation of his tomb. 

Until now.

A confession, recently translated by several top translators in the field, from Ahkmenrah’s own brother, Kahmunrah, reveals the truth. It reads: 

I have finally rid us of him, cleared my path to the throne, and still it is lost to me. 73 stab wounds to him, and still they will not give me the throne. He lays in ribbons, his blood stains the floor of his room, I have lain his weakness out for them, to see he was not fit to live nor to rule. And it was all for naught. Better I should have killed us both, and left them with no one to inherit it.” 

He can read no further, can only hear the beating of his own heart thudding heavy in his ears. He can feel Teddy’s hand on his shoulder, but it barely registers. There is just the beating and the words in front of him. 

“73 stab wounds”

“He lays in ribbons”

“Kahmunrah” 

“He wouldn’t,” he says it so quietly he can barely hear himself. He shakes his head. “Why would he...” 

“I’m so sorry,” Larry murmurs as he kneels down in front of him. He’d forgotten Larry was a father, or perhaps just not had that as the first thing he saw him as, until now. The concern in his eyes is paternal, caring. “He shouldn’t...no one should ever do that, to anyone. Hurt them like that. No throne could ever be worth the act of killing family.” 

He hates how he knows he must look right now, bent in half sitting in the chair, with his head in his hands, the article dropped to the floor. He feels Teddy carefully remove the crown from his head so it won’t fall, and wants to thank him.

But all that comes are tears, wailing and weeping as everything his mind kept from him comes flooding back. 

He’s in his room. Kahmunrah stands in front of him, wearing a malicious smile. He needs to leave, needs to get past his brother now, he knows that. 

“If you simply say you wish the throne go to me first, they will allow it,” Kahmunrah says. “They would do anything for you, anything at all. If you aren’t ready to rule, I can hold the throne until you are. Don’t let them push you to it.” 

He shakes his head. “They aren’t. And even if they were, I would not question them. They are our parents, best is to do as they instruct, and they have asked me to take the throne next. So I shall.” 

As the last word leaves his mouth, the knife Kahmunrah holds, with its gilded hilt, goes into his chest. 

At first, it doesn’t hurt. He can see the knife, but it isn’t until a moment later that the throbbing pain sets in, and he tries to run. 

Kahmunrah yanks the knife from his body, and grabs him, pushes him back towards the wall as he attacks again, and again, and again. Silent except for the sounds of his exertion, even as he begs mentally for him to say something.

Say something to me, anything, but do not leave me to die in silence.

But he says nothing, and ceases his stabbing only when Ahkmenrah falls to the floor, his torso so ripped apart that there is nothing solid enough left to stab again. 

As Kahmunrah leaves, Ahkmenrah finds himself staring at his hands, the remnants of his torso. The combined wounds are open enough he can see organs, in pieces, spilling out even as he tries to hold them in.  He had no idea there was so much blood in the body, or that it could dry so quickly on his hands as the rest trickles out onto the floor. 

He waits there, for someone, anyone. A guard, servant, his mother or his father. 

But when he finally can fight it no longer, lets his eyes finally close and the breath leave him, there is no one. 

He comes back to himself in Larry’s arms, clinging to him like a child. The wracking sobs have brought on nausea, and he’s grateful for the bucket (probably stolen from a janitorial cart) that Teddy holds near his mouth as he retches.

There are voices around him, Larry and Teddy and Sacagawea, then Attila and Octavious and Jed, all blending together, none of them loud enough to drown out the screaming in his head. 

He sees it all from outside himself, as they walk him to the employee lounge, sit him on the couch, try to gently take off his sweat-soaked garb. He pushes them away; it’s too much like a funerary undressing and he can’t handle it.

He curls up on his side on the couch, and the voices fade until it’s just Sacagawea. She sings something he can’t understand, but it’s soothing. 

“You’re okay,” she murmurs as he whimpers. “The past is gone, and you are safe in the present. Come back to the present with me. Tell me what you see around you now.” 

The room comes back into focus, and he realizes he is laying on her, his head in her lap. She’s sitting upright, apparently comfortable as anything, humming and running her hand gently through his curls. His mother used to do the same, when he’d run to her after a nightmare, and he wishes he had the words to thank Sacagawea for doing it now. 

“What do you see?” she prods, softly.

“The TV,” he croaks.

“Good, what else?” 

He lifts his head just a bit to peer around. “The lockers. The table...my other clothes.” 

Someone must have grabbed them from Larry’s locker, and he realizes it means they must have been trying to get him into them, to make him feel safer, more comfortable. The sweat from his panic and fear has dried now, leaving him cold. 

“Do you want to change into them?” 

He nods, and sits up so she can stand. 

“Let me fetch Teddy. We’ll help you, okay? Don’t stand up until I have him here.” 

They’re back a moment later, and he’s grateful for the help. His legs are still weak, his whole body hurting from how tense he was, still is. He doesn’t know when he’ll feel relaxed again, but their hands helping him into the warm sweatshirt and sweatpants helps. He needs to thank Larry again for bringing the clothes for him. 

“You don’t have to go back out again,” Teddy says. “Unless you feel ready to do it.” 

He thinks. Part of him wants to go back to this exhibit, to hide there and wallow in the feelings. 

But one night of wallowing will not send all the mass of confused emotions away. It will take time, and work, and he knows it. He has an eternity, so long as the tablet works, to do that work. To try and heal. 

The part of him that wants to go back out wins; the fourth king of the fourth king may have fallen, yes, but he rises again.

They all treat him carefully, Sacagawea and Teddy and Larry staying close to him as he settles at the same chair behind the desk. He’s content just to be out with everyone, to watch them run about and mingle and have fun. He isn’t feeling anywhere back to normal or better, but simply being out there is a victory, as he thinks on it.

Kahmunrah is dead. Ahkmenrah rises again each night.

Kahmunrah will face punishment for his actions in the afterlife. Ahkmenrah is surrounded by new family, friends, who care enough for him to pick up the pieces and help him through the aftermath of a night like this. 

Kahmunrah only survived, was willing to kill to do so, and still was deeply unhappy.

Ahkmenrah thrives in love and happiness. And that, he thinks is the greatest victory he can achieve over his brother’s actions. To live each night, and do what his brother tried so hard to prevent him doing.

Thrive.

#text post #LeeH writes #ahkmenrah fic #NATM fic #tw violence

[c-is-for-circinate]

It occurs to me that I promised y’all I’d tell you stories from the D&D campaign I’m running, and it’s now been a week since the first session, so I should definitely do some of that!  I can already tell it’s going to be a fun-as-shit campaign.  If nothing else, my party and I are collectively five variably-queer ladies who met at knitting group and range in age from “haven’t played D&D since 2e at GenCon in the 90′s” to “too young to remember fandom before AO3 existed”.  We’re real fucking cool.  I am going to have to explain, in detail, so many textiles and other interesting crafts.

I am a WORDY-ASS MOTHERFUCKER, so the whole tale will probably get pretty long in the telling, but: welcome to the continent of Nokomoris, on a world that probably has its own name but I haven’t decided on it yet because naming things is hard, dude.

[here’s where I will probably link game session posts in the future once they exist]

Hark, a backstory!  (And, our four players)

IF YOU RECOGNIZE THIS CAMPAIGN INFO BECAUSE YOU ARE PLAYING IT, CONSIDER YOURSELF UNDER DM ORDERS TO BACK OFF AND STOP READING.  I KNOW YOU FUCKERS ARE ON TUMBLR TOO, THERE IS A REASON I DIDN’T GIVE YOU MY HANDLE.  (I love you all very much and yes, there are spoilers in here.  Go away and text me now.)

Eastern Nokomoris, where our story takes place (or at least begins) is in a prosperous age of thriving city-states and collapsed kingdoms.  Most trade, culture, and even centralized government is based among the Nine Cities, massive metropolises located around the Attiks Sea and nearby lands.  Nearly a million people live in the nine cities, which are connected to each other via well-established sea and land trade routes, and also by what many are calling the most important technological/magical development of the modern age: a network of massive permanent teleportation circles, thirty feet in diameter.

The circle network is big enough to carry large trade wagons, livestock, huge parties of people, and even troops and war machines.  Sea and land trade has dropped by half between the Nine Cities in the past fifteen years, and continues to decline.  The cities themselves are thriving and prosperous, and it’s easier than ever to get beef and leather from Karna Vi, wool from Yefira, pottery from Celkan or metalwork from Tiers no matter where you live.

Outside of the cities, it’s another story.  Dozens of once-prosperous kingdoms, and even the whole of the Trava Empire, have fallen in the past seventy years: first during the Church Wars, and then in the yeas of chaos and rebuilding once the Wars were over.  Small towns everywhere that once paid taxes to a crown, and were protected in turn by royal troops and much-needed aid in times of hardship, have been left entirely to stand or fall on their own.  Some have thrived, becoming local centers of trade for whole coalitions of abandoned towns nearby.  Others have disappeared, died out, or simply faded into the wilderness, forgotten.  The great open plains of Highnorth where the Trava Empire once ruled, the endless golden sea of the Southgrass, the peaks and valleys of the Thavine Mountains, the deep many-colored forest of the Iris Peninsula--who knows what’s out there any more?

And in the Midlands, where the worst of the Church Wars took place...well, precious few towns even survived to rebuild in the first place.  Land that once held the most fertile farms in all Nokomoris is desolate now, scarred and cursed.  Most of the battlefield has been picked over by intrepid adventurers and out-of-work soldiers in the six decades since the Wars ended, already raided for magic and treasure.  The ruins remain, and the valleys where nothing will ever grow again, and the eternal shadow over the once-Holy City, and who knows what sorts of twisted things living in places people no longer go?

But it’s been sixty years since the Church Wars ended, and for most people, life is good.  Small-town farmers may no longer have the protection of any crown, but small technological advancements in plow design and crop rotation mean that they can produce more food than they need and sell the extra in the nearest city for coin.  More and more young people, freed from heavy labor on their parents’ farms, have learned reading, writing, history, and some amount of arcane talent.  The Grand Universities in the nine cities are thriving, full of scholars of all ages eager to learn and advance the course of knowledge everywhere.

Of course, there are ten times more scholars in the Grand Universities than there are professorships or other high-ranking positions to hire them to...and that is where our story begins.

.

Our intrepid party thus far includes:

Marion, a human paladin of indeterminate gender, whose human family stands among the nobles of the great city of Karna Vi, where our story begins.  Marion is an acolyte of the Church of Lost Things, which concerns itself with every god that does not easily fit within the purview of the other seven Churches, and also with every god that has been erased or forgotten by time (for all gods deserve worship, and all gods are capable of smiting those that neglect them, sooner or later).  They’re also a math major, largely because computer science hasn’t been invented yet.

Marion’s really hoping to be able to build and program a simple computing machine, a la Babbage’s Difference Engine (or Arthur C. Clarke’s The Nine Billion Names of God), to tabulate and generate all the possible names of every god ever to exist, which seems much more efficient than just combing piecemeal broken historical records trying to find them.  It has not been going well.  In a Church system where paladins are often more concerned with protecting people from the gods than for the gods, cracking this problem will let Marion figure out who the gods even are like nobody ever before.  But there are variables missing, and theomathematical constants they can’t even identify yet, let alone calculate--and they’re not going to find here.

Three interesting facts about Marion, as per their player: 

They once spent an entire week holed up in a lab over a holiday break and were declared missing-presumed-dead.  Police searches were involved.  It was a little bit of a scandal.

They are by far the most unremarkable and constantly forgotten member of their entire family.  (This perhaps says more about their family than about them.)

Everyone on campus is fairly sure they interfered with the campus clock tower specifically to give students more time on finals last semester.  This is false.  They were trying to run a different experiment entirely, messed with the clock tower by accident, and didn’t actually notice it was finals week even after it was over.

Kevin, an elf barbarian sportsball champion, hero of the university’s sportsball team for the past ten years straight.  Kevin is a foot and a half taller than any self-respecting elf ought to be, not to mention twice as broad.  He’s finally starting to acknowledge the fact that there is, in fact, no NFElf, and you can’t be a “professional sportsballer” within the Elven Ascendancy, and his bemused parents would really like him to do something with his life beyond playing those little games with the ball and all of those...non-elf people.

Kevin is also an art history student, mostly out of desire for an easy major that’ll make his parents happy while he happily spends most of his time out on the sportsball field.  He’s got high strength, basic middle intelligence, and negative wisdom.  He’s sat through more history classes than the entire rest of the party put together.  He understands approximately none of it.  Still--he can’t do sports forever, and art history makes his parents happy, and he might as well go on a quest to uncover lost art and artifacts and maybe prove he’s an actual adult sooner than later, right?

Three interesting facts about Kevin, as per his player:

Back in his home city playing little league sportsball, there were definite (and accurate) rumors about this wild elf that could and would straight-up squish opposing players.  That’s how the college recruiters found him in the first place.  It’s definitely why they wanted him.

He has so many groupies.  So many.  They come in so many different species and genders and Kevin is on board with every single one.  (On board?  On bed?  On convenient flat surface?  Does it particularly matter?  Not to Kevin!)

Kevin is covered in tattoos, and there are all sorts of rumors about what sort of eldritch magic they hold--like, that panther is probably a real panther bound by elven magic, right?  A pretty persistent rumor suggests that the tattoos all commemorate individual opposing team members he’s...either hospitalized or fucked, or both, literally nobody is sure.  (In point of fact, none of the above are true, and Kevin just has terrible taste in tattoos and a pretty stunning lack of both impulse control and supervision--but why quash the stories?)

Kou, a halfling bard whose girlfriend just left three weeks ago on a research expedition of her own, taking with her approximately 85% of Kou’s impulse control.  In theory, Kou is an alchemy major, studying science to make her scholar parents happy.  In practice, she probably spends more time sneaking into music seminars and/or busking on the street for spare change than actually doing alchemy, but her girlfriend was a Good Responsible Influence who made sure Kou didn’t get kicked out of the department, and to be fair, alchemy can blow things up sometimes so that’s always good.

Kou doesn’t so much have plans for the future as vague, contradictory aspirations, but that doesn’t mean she’s not smart.  She’s learned enough magic to use a set of recording stones to play, loop, and modulate beats or bits of music, thereby making her Nokomoris’s very first DJ, and she really wants to be a professional musician someday.  She just hasn’t figured out how to reconcile her dreams with her parents’ wishes, the lives they’ve worked so hard to create, or a halfling cultural legacy that has more to do with riding around snowfields covered in furs waving spears than it does with brightly-colored house parties.

Three interesting facts about Kou, as per her player:

Kou very definitely once spent a full day dressed up in halfling traditional garb, furs and all, including a very fuzzy fur hat.  It wasn’t until that evening that somebody saw the hat move and everyone realized she’d been wearing a curled-up live fox the whole time.

She once managed to create an incredibly destructive compound in alchemy lab out of ingredients that should not have actually been able to react that way.  She found out it was corrosive when she accidentally spilled it on six months’ worth of a different professor’s lab notes.  (She got an A anyway, because her lab professor hated the other guy, but that has more to do with Professors Ayanova and M’tiersi than Kou, really.)

She absolutely goes down to counter-protest every damn time those Family First assholes try to rally downtown in favor of child-producing (read: heterosexual, single-species) families.  Rumor says she once broke her guitar over a protester’s head, which horrifies her--Kou’s guitar is the most expensive thing she owns!  She used their own protest sign, like a sensible person.

Reigenleif, a mostly-female-probably gnome rogue known around campus as “Beer Run” for her skills at somehow always having access to better and cheaper beer than anyone else, and her general willingness to deliver to parties (for a small additional fee).  Reigenleif’s parents are small-time forgers who ended up mostly working for a local crime organization after a series of bad luck and political upheavals brought them to Karna Vi a few decades ago.  They really want their kids to go clean, avoid all the uncertainties and occasional jail sentences/executions that accompany a life of crime, and maybe make a little something of themselves.  Reigenleif, who has zero interest in staying on the right side of the law, mostly does odd jobs for a different, not-technically-rival criminal organization, and carefully does not tell her parents about it, ever.

Technically she’s an engineering major, and she’s more than got the brains for it, plus the accompanying curiosity about metallurgy and arcane artificing.  Still, she spends most of her time helpfully involving herself in other peoples’ projects rather than running her own.  (Her own projects have a lot more to do with figuring out new forging techniques and criminal tricks, and don’t look very good in the end-of-year department report.)  Enjoys causing trouble, not being in it.

Three interesting facts about Reigenleif, as per her player:

She absolutely owns a copy of the provost’s signet ring, which she can and has used to create documents allowing herself access to all sorts of University resources.  Like most things, she’ll share the use of it, quietly, for a price.  (She also owns a copy of Marion’s family signet ring, which is a much longer story that I as the DM do not know yet--can’t wait for that.)

Once captured and maneuvered a live swan into somebody’s office to cause as much chaos as possible so Reigenleif could get up to something somewhere else.  Is a little bit of a legend for it.

Aside from her not-actually-that-impressive family legacy of crime, Reigenleif’s spread a quiet rumor around school that she’s descended from the famous marauding pirate, Thrand Slender-Leg.  It’s possible that Thrand Slender-Leg never actually existed.  It’s possible that nobody had ever heard of him before Reigenleif made him up.  She’s certainly not telling.

#C the DM #dungeons and dragons #The Yarn Crew goes adventuring

[reddogf13]

Between two Voids

Pennywise x Beverly

summery:  It has been 12 years since Beverly was last in Derry. now 26 years old and returning with her boyfriend she strives for a life of normalcy in the small town. Unaware that a certain stalking creature has awakened much earlier than expected. Looking for a challenge to cure its boredom ,in the now crumbling town, IT aims to uproot her life as much as possible. Yet, is that really such a bad thing given her dark situation hidden from all but the eyes of a world eater? 

status: complete

rated: M - fowl language and gore

next chap: Between two Voids ch 2

_____________________________________

~ch: 1 Lonely day ~

October, 2001

“this shit aint workin for us.” a man dressed in loose clothing spit toward the ground. “its a big town. We just have to move somewhere smaller.” he added, pulling the thin jacket closer to his thin body.

“big towns give more.” Beverly shivered in her thin black jacket with even thinner clothing underneath. Her long sleeved dark blue shirt that hung down to mid thigh partially covering her ragged and ripped up dark jeans.

“give to people who don't need it. Remember all the damned families in the food line? Why don't they get jobs and make the kids work too.” Erik shifted his lean against the brick wall. “what's that small town you're from? Dairy land, dairy field, something to do with milk?” he asked.

“i – we – its not a very good place Erik.” she spoke delicately to avoid making him upset. Looking to the thin man wearing a hole covered grey t shirt that loosely hanged off him. A short neatly trimmed beard covering his face. Slicked back black hair that helped highlight his jade green eyes. Being a little taller than her with tanned skin from being out in the sun constantly. Beverly was sure she developed some sort of farmers tan of her own these past few years being homeless.

Her slight darkening not helping to hide the multiple lighter scars tarnishing her body. Marks across her arms being the most noticeable. A few spreading over her face, however her bright red curly hair detracted attention from those.

“whys that?” Beverly swallowed nervously at the heavy tone he gave her.

“lots of bad luck. … A lot of deaths. Many go missing.” Shed rarely told him about Derry as she preferred not too. After her childhood with the old gang against … IT. It was the last place she ever wanted to return to. Yet when things got difficult, which was common, Erik wanted to go straight there. She regretted ever mentioning Derry to him. “heh, you superstitious now? Sounds exactly like the place we're living in now. We need a smaller place to live. Someplace where foods easier to steal with no cameras on every street corner! Small towns are places stuck in the times of promises actually meaning something! We need a place like that to scam for real things!” Glaring her down until she flinched her gaze away.

“ … look babe.” he softened himself to bring her attention back. “you know winters coming. I don't want to see you shivering in the snow again for another year in a row. Smaller towns make things easier. You know I want whats best for you, right?” holding a smile for a false kindness. Something Beverly never fully trusted, but never questioned.

“... yes.” she answered passively.

“smart girl. You can take us to the dairy field, land, whatever.” he patted her face. Chuckling as she flinched away from the action.

“it's all the way in Maine.” she hoped with it being so far from new York he wouldn't want to travel.

“i got money for a bus.”

“you said we had no money.” she thought, glaring out of the corner of her eyes. Knowing well that saying so would get her another bruise on the ribs.

“come on babe! I want to get there sometime today!” he shouted back toward her on the way to the bus station. She sucked in a deep breath to gather some strength to follow behind.

Meanwhile far up north in the town of Derry something was stalking down below the roads. A huge insect like creature with many glowing yellow eyes shifting to be hidden under the skin. A smooth pointed head with rows of razor teeth bared in anger. Neck lined with sharp ragged Armour plates looking toward a warped grouping of ruffles. A bulky chest with 8 massive spider like claws at the most front. Out of the four sets of larger legs, one was slightly smaller in all black. resembling a praying mantis like position against ITs chest. The pair of praying arms being a cleverly disguised pair of hands ready to grab fleeing prey or to impale them down. Following behind the main body was a long armor sectioned body like a centipede crawling along on many legs.

The creature mumbling to itself with irritation at what its once lush hunting grounds had turned into. IT could keep Derry in a bubble of ignorance to its hunts, but not on the outside world. Things beginning to shut down in the small town was what started it all.

No more factory's meant no more work. Half the town was leaving for work to feed their family's. Then with no more people able to shop the stores closed one by one. Any families with kids have long since left. Leaving only old retired folk too stubborn to leave the town they were born in. With maybe a few younger members staying to care for the elders.

“nothing to hunt or to bring me entertainment.” IT growled to itself. Remembering the schools full of young children. Easy to scare into an exciting chase ending with a nice flavorful meal. Now all gone with the schools having to shut down.

“the current selection above not even worth the hunt anymore. Old meat tough as a tire with the rest being flavor less cardboard.” ITs large spider like limbs tapping across the stone tunnels with many centipede ones tapping behind. Stopping to lay down across the cool open floor of its home. Spreading out one of his hands to rest his chin upon. The other spreading to lay against the stone.

“i need something to get me along here. If it's not food I want a challenge to thrive against. Having those annoying children back would be better than this insufferable boredom.” tapping his sharp slender fingers against the stone. “i suppose though, they are not children any longer. It has been … 12 years.” adding up quickly in his head.

Feeling the town slowly erode over time had IT waking early over its full 27 year hibernation. At first he didn't think too much of it. Sure a bunch of humans left, but there was still plenty. Then the shops closed, and when the schools shut down he grew worried.

“with so little prey I don't have to keep Derry in a bubble at this point. Winter is the primest hunting with no suspicion when the older humans disappear after a blizzard. “oh they just walked off to die in the snow. Big surprise.”” he mocked in a higher voice. Puffing out a huge breath of air at the pathetic prey above.

“another day scratched off this rock in space.” breathing in with a stretch to his feet. Catching a scent in the air with the approach of something. “hmm, something new? Something full of fear soaked in the stench of blood coming here? How interesting.” Long strands of drool oozing off its teeth at such a delicious smell above. Twisting around on itself back down through the tunnels to go see what arrived.

“why the hell is it freezing up here! You didn't say anything about winter being here already!” Erik shivered after stepping off the bus with Beverly right behind.

“it is further north.” she muttered.

“what did you say? You want to speak up?!” he hissed out with a harsh shove to Beverly. Smiling at seeing her flinch in reaction at the minimal threat. “i am sorry, the colds getting to me. Help me find someplace to buy you hot food to make up for it?” shifting drastically to a more polite tone toward her.

“yes, ... I can.” giving a wavering smile. Cautiously passing by with her body preparing for a possible blow against it. Breathing out in relief when no hits came. “i shouldn't have said that. I was stupid for saying that.” she scolded herself. Walking ahead at a slow pace to keep from getting too far. He hated when she got too far away or entered a place before him.

“why are we stopping here?” he asked.

“a diner used to be here.” she answered quietly. Walking around had her notice many changes in the town. Many places boarded up with dust filling the windows. Foreclosure letters blowing down the streets. Hardly anyone out walking the streets. It all seemed so dead from what the town used to be like in her childhood. She wondered just how much had changed since she was last here.

“you know another place?” his tone hinting aggressive impatience.

“i think so.” holding her breath with worry at what might happen if she didn't find a place soon. If she hadn't been so worried she may have noticed the many eyes watching from a water drain across the street.

“how wonderful, young Beverly has returned. Filled with so much fear since the last we faced. Scared of my presence like she so rightfully should be?” IT chuckled to himself. Crawling his long sectioned body further down the tunnels to watch her from multiple drains. Many yellow eyes in two rows of fours peeking out from the small space in the streets. The eyes weren't necessarily needed with him able to track on body heat alone. It was more for seeing the finer details or merely intimidation reasons. Prey didn't like to be stared down by eight large eyes after all.

Beverly stiffened her stride at seeing something bright yellow pass in a dark drain. Staring toward the drain to catch another glimpse at what she may have seen.

“why are we stopping?!” Eriks yelling scaring her into looking forward again.

“sorry, needed to remember the way.” an excuse with her voice hardly being present for the whole thing.

“IT can't be here. It hasn't been a full 27 years yet.” she spoke to herself, The anxiety she avoided by leaving Derry returning full force. “it's just worry having me turn paranoid. IT would have made its presence much more known if it was here. IT wasn't one for being subtle.” she thought.

The situation wasn't the same as when she was a kid. The support of her friends following her everywhere. She felt no fear when they were all together. Now all she had left was Erik, he wasn't exactly the most empathetic. The guys were right about him ruining her. He had her believe the guys didn't want her happy. That they wanted her to be completely reliant on them and she believed Erik. She said quite a few things she came to greatly regret along with her choice of who to be with in the end.

Since then she had turned completely reliant on Erik for everything she needed. She had no money, no place to go, she wasn't even allowed to hold her own ID card. He held her card and “their” money with him saying its for the best. She felt it was impossible to apologize for the things she said to her friends. Even if she could manage the proper words she had no way of contacting them. She was isolated in the world with only Erik for support.

“um, h-here we are.” she stood by the front door of the diner for Erik to enter first. Following silently behind to the seat he choose.

“you having a burger?” he asked to only sound polite in public. Beverly knew he got what he wanted her to get, which was usually something cheap. Nodding to make it feel less awkward between them.

“at least i'll be getting food today.” she thought. With neither of them earning money they relied heavily on stealing. Erik was the better of the two with skills in pickpocketing. Beverly, even though she's done it multiple times, had not gotten used to it. Fear of being caught overwhelming her most the time into stopping. Anxiety growing every minute on when the next meal would be or even where they would sleep.

“In new York they had homeless shelters, but none to be found here.” She thought with a hand combing through her bright red hair to relieve stress. Looking out the large window to pass the time. Hearing the sound before a blanket of rain poured on the dreary town.

“perfect.” she thought unhappily about stepping out into that. The creature below the streets carefully examining over the two. Its excitement growing with two possible play things entering its territory.

“hmm, she brought a friend with her.” ITs voice spoke from a drainage gate. Unable to be heard past the loud waterfall pouring through the drainage entrance. “this will be a fun surprise for both of them. Ah, now when should I visit?” he cheerfully wondered. Leaving down the sunlit drainage tunnels to wait for his time to properly present itself.

“yes, I understand.” When the food arrived, Erik had broken out in a huge lecture about money. He was always incredibly cheap when it came to spending money on those other then himself.

“i am serious. We have to start saving money babe.” he said while cutting into a thick steak.

“maybe if you didn't spend like a king. We would have money.” thinking bitterly with another bite off her burger.

“can't afford any place right now. Where can we sleep?” he asked.

“there's … not really … anywhere to go.” she muttered, knowing the reaction to that coming up.

“nowhere, there's absolutely no where to go?!” his tone turned unhappy.

“its … very small and-” she tried to explain that there were no shelters or food lines in the small town. Flinching at Erik banging a fist on the table. Sitting then on in silence with gaze aimed toward the ground.

“so why did we come here? Why did you bring us up here? Huh?! You didn't think things through again. This is why I have to think of everything!” he leaned his body toward her. Both hands clenched in a fist with a few heavy pounds on the table.

“sorry.” she passively apologized. Something she did regularly in the hopes she wouldn't be harmed. It had a common theme of failure no matter how sincere she made it.

“sorry doesn't work when I have to sleep in the rain because of your mistake. Get up, let's go, you're done. It's late and we need to find a place before the sky turns black.” he wanted to deal with her away from outsider eyes. Erik hated when people butted in or called the police on him. Beverly abandoned her food still remaining while his was long finished. She didn't dare argue with him. Fear growing inside her about what was going to happen after they reached someplace without people watching.

“this better be a fucking joke. We just got off a bus after a 7 hour drive. I am tired, its raining, you better figure something out or i am gonna be really pissed!” he threatened her outside the diner.

“there's a junkyard.” she fearfully offered up.

“that's the best you can do?!” one of his fists raising up over her head. Her body flinching into itself as she spoke multiple apologizes on reflex. “shut up, just go!” waving a pointed finger for her to start moving. Her walking a little fast to stay ahead of his furious pace.

The two shivering as the pouring rain drenched through there coats made for summer. Walking for quite some time to the junkyard. Passing the edge of town where there were no more roads, only a wide dirt or technically muddy path. No street lights to brighten it up under the settling darkness. Beverly swallowing at passing under the run down junkyard sign.

“we arrived in a bus. Might as well sleep in one too.” Erik grumbled while heading over to a broken down school bus. The outside had paint peeling with rusted spots all over the frame. The windows being somehow intact, although covered in some moss from the ages. Erik approached to the back exit door. Wrenching open the back exit, with a painful metallic screech sounding out, for them to get in.    “hey, our luck is going up. There's a hobo stove in here.” a bit more cheer in his voice. Taking a piece of wood from the metal barrel to light with a lighter from his pocket. Throwing it back into the metal barrel to grow a fire on the rest of the half burnt wood.

Beverly sat away from him without a word. Wanting to avoid his wrath at least for one night. Anxiously watching him from the corner of her eye. Making sure to avoid being caught watching him. He hated when he found her looking at him, talking, or doing anything without permission. He may as well have hated her very existence at some points. Hours of awkward silence passing between the two. Her anxiety building with the falling sun. the fiery colors of the sunset slowly replaced by the light of the burning fire.

The rain pouring harder over the course of time. Condensation building on the mossy windows to block any views to the outside. Beverly being happy for the heat, but not for who she was sharing it with. She had considered countless times on leaving him with a few attempts actually made. Unfortunately he always found her no matter how far she traveled. Being a girl with bright obvious red hair had its downsides. His friends weren't the most fond of her either. Ratting out her location as soon as she was spotted anywhere.

Her hidden watching faltering when she saw him light up a cigarette. Glaring at him for enjoying an expensive luxury only he was allowed. She hadn't smoked in a long time, but the cravings were still there. A twitchy irritating feeling under her skin burning as she watched him smoke. Her glare going on a little too long grabbed his attention.

“what?!” he snapped. Staring her down even after she looked away. Regret filling her chest when she heard him get up. Clawing into her own arm to stop her terrified shivering.

Outside the pouring down rain covered the sounds of multiple legs creeping through the piles of junk. Approaching the lit up bus just close enough to see through the water blurred windows. The smell of fear radiating from the metal structure. The multiple nostrils at the end of ITs snout flaring up to breath in the scent.

“is she aware of my presence? I cant be that rusty on my hunting yet.” IT thought. Resting low to the ground to keep hidden in the dark night. ITs curiosity growing over what he expected Beverly to do if she was aware. His body stretched up enough to peek through a blurry window. Discovering the true origins of her fear planting a seed of discontent within IT.

“you going to start this early?! Why do you always want to make me angry?! You think I like being angry at you?!” Erik ranted down at her flinching in the seat. Slamming a fist down into her ribs hard enough to knock the wind out of her lungs. She winced in pain, locking up at a second painful hit.

“stop flinching! You know I didn't hit you that hard!” he spoke with little pity for her pain. “go to sleep!” finishing his assault on her.

“sorry.��� she wheezed out, not daring to look at him.

“shut up! I don't want to hear a sound from you!” he threateningly looming over her, daring her to say another word. Slowly backing away over to the barrel fire.

She took shallow breaths in to ease the pain away. Staying curled on the seat against the wall. Shaking as quietly as she could to not draw anymore attention on her. Not even wanting to move from the uncomfortable position she was curled in.

despite the lovely scent of fear he was breathing in. IT was disappointed at what it had seen.

“not the challenge she once was.” IT thought little of the new cowering Beverly. “this much fear coming off her from a pitiful male. Yet I could not gain any off her long ago. What a disappointing turn of events this has become. She could make a good meal, but that isn't my main reason for coming. I wanted a challenge, something to put me in a rush. I wont get any entertainment from her if she so easily crumbles like a leaf! Maybe letting her fester will have her straighten out.” he thought, carefully crawling away to not be noticed.

Beverly stayed up for hours even when she could hear Erik snoring a few seats away. Staring up at the cold window all through the night. Watching the sky change with the rising sun. gaining something good from the cold morning air turning the metal bus sides into an ice pack. Resting her freshly bruised ribs on the freezing metal.

Inside she debated on moving or staying still. Terrified of accidentally waking Erik at any little noise she could make. The feeling of being sick growing confidence inside just enough to get up. Sneaking as quiet as a mouse to the end of the bus. Turning the back exit handle with a screeching pop. Pausing to slowly look back at Erik for any movement. Looking forward with held breath to slide the door open with a unintentional drawn out screech of the metal.

Stepping quietly out onto the dirt. Letting out a breath at the fresh morning air. Covering her mouth at the painful cough coming up at breathing in deeply with bruised ribs. Walking a few feet from the bus to cough without risk of waking Erik. Crouching down to the floor with exhaustion filling her muscles. Breathing in at a more delicate amount to not start up another coughing fit.

“Please have him work today.” she prayed in thought. Erik left Beverly on most the mornings to go pick pocketing. It was the only time she had temporary freedom to relax. If you could truly call it freedom. Erik didn't like her freely walking around since she tried running from him the first time.

“babe!” she heard him shout from inside the bus. Having her body jump with her heart skipping a beat.

“outside.” she answered quickly. Holding in a coughing fit from shouting. She didn't move from her crouched position. Afraid he was going to be mad at her outside without asking first.

He stepped out seeming half awake. Walking over with a calm stride to be feet away from her.

“... i am sorry about last night. I know you didn't mean to make me angry. You forgive me?” speaking toward her back with fake sincerity. The same as every other morning after “she caused” a fight. Her body tensing at the sensation of him crouching low next to her.

“yes.” she spoke quietly. Not honestly feeling what she answered with.

“thanks babe. I'll bring you back something after work.” Startling her with a kiss on the cheek before he went off.

She slowly let out a long breath she held in his presence. Looking back to make sure he was fully gone from the junkyard. Not noticing something else watching her from among the junk.

“what was that?! Why did she accept?!” IT thought with a deep inner frustration. “the female who once so boldly jammed a iron rod through my head! The female who faced me directly in my lair with only words! now accepts some false words with barely any emotion?! This is an insult! What is this new males position? Are they mates? Cant be so, shes far too above this pathetic male! Or at least she used to be.” he thought. Watching her sit out on the open dirt. “just going to sit there like a chained dog?” it started as a thought, but a few words escaping out of frustration.

Beverly's head shot up at the voice. Jumping to her feet at recognizing it as the clowns. Her fear and cold mixed shivering coming to a halt. Her eyes now slowly scanning across the mounds of items for his figure.

IT held its body still with the surrounding junk for camouflage. A spark of interest coming from her reaction to his unintentional speaking. Noticing much of her fear shedding away completely in preparedness to face him.

“maybe i am hearing things?” she thought. Failing to see ITs figure anywhere or hear anymore of its voice. Not even hearing clearly what IT said, if IT said anything at all.

“ITs not here. IT can't be here.” she thought to calm herself. Grabbing her side at feeling her ribs ache from tensing up. She walked over to lean against the cold bus for some relief on her ribs.

“going against natural instincts of self defense when harmed. What purpose could that serve? If she was like this when facing me … she must be playing a game with the male. She wouldn't sit by accepting such harm without a farther goal ahead.” IT thought to make sense to itself on what was the reasoning in Beverly's mind. The interest IT had now gone with the frustration returning.

“maybe I should just end her misery. With all the delicious fear she emanates it would be a waste to let a fine meal go if it were caught in my web. ” IT thought after watching Beverly stand around in pain for most the day. “I'll play along to this game she has for a little while. If she's smart she won't test my patience.” moving when he was sure she had no eyes in his direction. Crawling off to the Neibolt house not far past the neighboring train tracks.

Beverly sat on the front steps of the bus. Eyes shut leaning her back against the mini metal wall acting as a rail. Watching waves of wind brush over the treetops. Closing her eyes momentarily with a deep inhale of the fresh air hitting her face. Opening with a look over, seeing Erik walking back she went to greet him by the gate.

“hey babe, want to go for a walk?” his question raising red flags in Beverly's mind.

“... sure.” Beverly answered hesitantly. Body tensing at what Erik was planning to do. They didn't just go on walks for enjoyment. They did enough walking when merely looking for supplies to live off of.

“you lead.” there was no emotion on his face. Making it difficult for Beverly to guess what was to be expected. She gave a small nod while passing him. Watching him from the corner of her eye.

“it might be best for me to head somewhere public.” she thought. Heading directly back to town instead of somewhere secluded in the surrounding woods. Body relaxing at being around others, despite knowing that ITs curse of bad happenings being ignored still around. “he doesn't know about it.” thinking about the curse and Erik. Which was good for her with him not liking to harm her in public for fear of cops getting involved.

Every now and again he would ask her a question about the town. Beverly figuring out he was making this walk into a tour. Something she didn't mind too much as long as it kept his anger away.

“what's that place?” Beverly looked in the direction he pointed toward her old school. Seeing the building falling apart with boards covering every entrance possible. Some areas of brickwork falling out of place in the walls. The roof being covered in rusted holes leaving her imagination running on how rotten the insides were from weather.

“wow, that's my old high school. Can't believe they shut it down. It used to have so many kids when I went there. It's the same place where all the guys went to too.” shocked at its state after once being so lively.

“okay I didn't need a little story.” he pushed her along to rush past it. “where's that bridge lead?” he asked next.

“it's the big main bridge that passes over the river. Heads toward the factory's that turns to farmland after a while.” she explained.

“river huh? Is it clean?” his walking momentarily stopping at the front of the bridge. Making his way down the dirt slope to the rocky river edge.

“uh, sort of? It's where all the street drainage pipes lead. No sewage in it.” starting to follow his lead down the shore.

“looks a lot better then shitty new York water. That stuff is like black sludge workers tar the roads with.” he kicked multiple rocks into the water while walking along the river's edge.

“yeah ...” Beverly passively agreed.

“does this same river run by the junkyard?”

“sometimes. A dry creek splits from it that only fills during the spring floods.” Looking down as she stopped focusing on the environment around them.

“is there a treatment plant around here?”

“yes.”

“is that where that huge drainage pipe leads?”

“what?!” Beverly froze to focus on their surroundings. Seeing the drainage pipe she never wanted to go near.

“this pipe. Does. it. go. To a treatment plant?” Erik asked rudely in a much slower speech.

“uh ...” she tensed. Mind stalling on what answer to give. “What's most likely to get him away from the pipe.”

“hello?!” waving at her for attention. Patients running out on the answer coming.

“yes.” she blurted out.

“good, water treatments can make pretty great houses. You know that? Workers rarely visit, tons of space, lots of heat drawing off water pipes in the winter. practically a house of itself. As long as you don't get lost in the pipe network.” Heading to the pipe entrance to look deeper inside.

“uh- i- what are we doing here?!” she stumbled over the words to speak. Her body tensing the more he drew closer to the pipe.

“i wanted to find a better spot to stay in. those bus seats are killer on my back. Let's check out the inside.” completely ignoring her stress on purpose.

“no!” she exclaimed firmly.

“no?!” he glared from the pipe entrance.

“i-it's not safe!” Her strong voice momentarily crumbling under his glare.

“It's fine as long as you're not stupidly swimming around. Now get in here!” She stood there on the rocky shore with hesitance on going in. her fear of Erik being stronger than her fear of ITs lair, for the moment.

She guardedly walked in behind him. Sounds of rushing river water slowly fading into the background. The sounds left to hear were the echo of moving water at their feet the deeper they went in. sunlight slowly diminishing to the void of surrounding blackness.

Beverly's fear of Erik ebbing away to her body filling with adrenaline. Hesitating at every pipe crossing to make sure nothing was ready to pounce from the darkness.

“hey, there's light. Must be the center.” Erik happily announced. Beverly stopping inside the remaining bit of tunnel. Watching Erik go out into the open room with ITs pile at the center. Lit up by the blue sky light raining down from a large skylight up above everything. Memory's of how the open lit air above used to be filled with mutilated bodies. “wow, look at all this junk. They must find stuff blocking the pipes and just throw it here.” she watched him wander around the various items collecting up into the towering pile.

Erik's voice echoed along the stone walls down into the core of the large mound. large strands of oversize spider webbing vibrating with the echos passing. long rows of eyes opened to the sensation with long twisted body uncurling.

Rising to meet the presence of prey in its home.

Erik turned once noticing Beverly wasn't by him. “what are you doing? Get out here and look!” he waved for her to come over.

“no!” she shouted back.

“no?!” he glared.

“yes, no!” Holding her own challenging stare against him. Fear of him hurting her all gone as long as she was deep within the tunnels. She had something bigger to fear that hopefully wasn't home at the moment.

“Why are you being so difficult?! Get over here!” Erik spoke through gritted teeth. Furiously pointing down at the ground in front of him. She refused to speak further with him. Holding her ground with fists so tightly curled her nails dug into her palms.

“Are you really trying to start a fight with me?! When I'm the one looking for a nicer place, for us, to sleep!” tightening his own fists with mutterings of all kinds of curse words following.

“i don't want to be here!” she whispered through gritted teeth.

“it's just a room of water and cement! What could possibly hurt you, the rats?” Erik grabbed her by the arm. Dragging her out more toward the center of the room into the light. The two breaking out into a fight starting with Beverly biting down into Erik's arm, forcing him to let go. She got a returning blow to her arm. A new bruise being sure to form at the area. He grabbed a hold of her shirt with her doing the same.

Both stumbling to the ground throwing punches back and forth. A few cuts collecting with the heavy struggle on the jagged concrete stone. Erik gaining the upper hand with his extra height over her. Throwing her off him to smash her into the wall. Beverly standing defensively with a heavy flow of blood off her freshly cut mouth. Getting sliced against a cement shard sticking out of the wall when she fell.

“Ever since we got in here you've acted like a freak! I was looking for a nice place we can both stay, but now I have to defend myself from your insane acting! You started this, not me, you’re lucky i don't strangle you like some assholes would!” he panted with a spit of drool toward the ground. Wiping dirt off his clothes to face her for another round.

All the energy Beverly had was spent in the first fight. Ribs in an extreme amount of pain after being smashed down left and right. Her breathing turned to pained wheezing. Fear settling in place of the lack of energy. Digging her nails into the wall beside her in desperation to stay on her feet.

Erik went forward to punch her when something big lunged from the darkness. Beverly only got a glimpse of many legs, yellow eyes and rows of teeth, it was all she needed to see to flee. Bolting away to a new tunnel while Erik went down where they came from. Separated by ITs large presence of snarling teeth snapping together.

Letting out a long deep hiss toward the tunnel Erik fled down. Shifting away to head down Beverly's path of escape. Following the heavy scent of blood leading along the tunnels. Getting closer to the sound of her footsteps fleeing through the water.

Running endlessly with no direction on injured ribs was not working for Beverly. she stopped momentarily to try and catch her bearings. Minimal light shining down through the tunnels making things just barely see able. the sound of water being disturbed leading her gaze back behind her. Hopes of Erik appearing crashing down with large spider legs coming into view.

“shit!” she thought. Trying to run more against the rounded wall then in the water to prevent noise. “find a weapon!” was all that her mind was screaming. If she reaches a dead end with nothing for defense it was going to be a complete end, and there it was.

A dead end of a grate made of metal rods. Her heart sunk for a moment, searching for something to give her an out, spotting one rod being badly rusted. She grabbed a hold of it with little hesitation to yank on it. Kicking it a few times to twist it into snapping off. Holding it against her body to keep it hidden.

She didn't want IT seeing the weapon until it was too late. She stood still at the tunnels end in wait. Panting painfully with the taste of blood in her mouth. A dizzy feeling washing over her enough she needed to lean against the wall. She gathered herself to stand again on her own. Focusing on the space of the tunnel behind her. Feeling IT approach around the corner with a deep breath of air flowing out its snout.

Beverly listening to the water being disturbed to guess how close IT was. A sense of the darkness turning into a deeper void at its large form shadowing over her. Skin crawling as she felt ITs hot breath flowing over her back.

_________________________

authors notes please read:

i made this because, i wanted something a little different then the usual Beverly/ pennywise fics. one where Beverly isint just a pure sex/ mind controlled slave and pennywise isint being a pure insufferable jackass.

#It (2017) #pennywise #beverly marsh #beverly still kicks pennywise's ass #12 years after movie #pennywise x beverly marsh #between two voids ch 1

[iturbide]

Wait, fudge, my brain just thought of a thing with the idea of sending a prompt of Anankos and Mikoto; 22, since I'm sure both of them have some things to vent about in regards to the past. Though if you want an extra detail, idk, 49 would be amusing because the thought of Anankos getting a tight hug made me smile. Of course, doing just 22 is also fine; 49 is more for possible detail. (Also pretend Mikoto is properly in Heroes and is not just a dream only.)

you know what I love both of these?  But I also love the idea of them co-existing in close but not immediate proximity so I’m doing them in the opposite order ;D

Giving them a tight hug that makes them lose their breath.

He slowly lowered his arms as the blinding light faded, squinting even still in the overly bright sunshine as he took in his surroundings.  They were strange.  Nothing at all like the dark confines of…of…

Where had he come from? 

His thoughts were jumbled.  Turning slowly around, he saw dark grey stone beneath his feet, etched with deep grooves worn smooth by the water that flowed through them.  There was a stone just before him, depicting a tree with branches interwoven about the hole at its center.  Beyond…there were fields.  Forests.  A sky, impossibly blue, with pale clouds scudding like wave caps overhead, and he turned to follow their progress…

“Hello.”

He blinked, looking down at the stranger in the gilt hood.  “…hello,” he repeated, his voice rasping from lack of use.  “Where…am I?”

“You’re in Askr,” the figure replied.  “I’m Kira–”

“As…kr?”  He did not know this place.  He should be in…in…not here.  Somewhere.  

“Askr,” the stranger agreed.  “It’s a kingdom in Zenith.  I’m Kiran.  Who are you?”

He thought for a moment, looking down at the stone beneath his feet and the water that flowed under his boots through the runes carved into its face.  Water was familiar.  It was…part of him?  No.  Yes?  It called to him, but told him nothing as it rippled and played in the light…

“Do you remember who you are?”

He frowned, looking down at his hands for a moment as memories tumbled in and out of focus.  Water.  Darkness.  A song.  Rage.  Pain.  Grief.  A city in ruins.  A city thriving.  And he above it all, watching over them…

“I am…the forgotten god.  The Silent Dragon.  Anankos.”

The stranger…Kiran…smiled beneath their hood.  “It’s an honor to meet you.”

“Why am I here?” Anankos asked.  He should not be.  He knew that.  But he did not know where he should be.  Only that…he did not want to be there, and the thought of going back filled him with dread…

“I Summoned you,” Kiran explained.  “It’s…okay, it’s kind of hard to explain, but…how about we go inside?  There’s gonna be a lot to fill you in on about the situation here and…”

His attention drifted as the stranger spoke.  But he followed when they turned, moving away from the platform and through a softly glowing arch, feeling magic flow along his skin as he crossed into a bright castle foyer filled with strangers.  Some looked up at his arrival; most spared not even a glance.  “All these people are Heroes,” Kiran said, gesturing to the unknown faces.  “And so are you, here in Askr.”

He frowned at that.  “I am…not a hero.”

The hooded figure touched his arm.  “You can be, though.  That’s what’s great about this place.  You can be a Hero, if you want.”

…what did he want?  

He could not remember.  His mind was chaos: screams of pain, joyous laughter, crushing grief, aching guilt, a song…a song…

“Anankos?”

The familiar voice stopped his heart. 

The memories washed over him: kind laughter as he tried and failed to snatch a fish from the pond bare-handed and fell into the shallow waters, a fond smile as he tried to recite a verse from memory and jumbled up the words, eyes that sparkled like the sun on the water and hair like a river flowing through the night and soft hands that held his own eternally cold ones and tried to share their warmth…

“Mikoto…?”

He turned toward the source in time to see her sprinting toward him, a roil of white robes and sea green ribbons.  And then her arms were around him, crushing the breath from him as only the deepest reaches of the darkest sea had ever done before. 

But she was laughing.  He could hear it on the air, and even without air, he felt his own mirth rippling through him as he folded his beloved – his wife – within his embrace for the first time in far too long. 

Listening to them while they vent.

Mikoto had grown quiet, of late.  She had been so lively at the time of their reunion, had taken him around the castle and grounds, shown him all the wonders this strange land of Askr had to offer.  She had accompanied him here and there on various missions, helping to guide him when he lost his way, until at last he began to settle into something like routine…

And with that familiarity came silence.  But not a kind one.  A heavy one, oppressive, like a storm hanging in the sky that had yet yet to unleash a downpour.  He could feel the unspoken words in the air, thick and choking in the uncomfortable stillness as they walked side by side, but not together. 

He did not understand. 

But he remembered, now, so many of the things he’d once lost.  He remembered her, their time together, her laughter and her lessons both…

He drew a breath, low and soft, rippling through the silent hallway.  “What troubles you?”

“What makes you imagine I am troubled?” she replied airily (but her tone chilled him like a wintery gale). 

“There are things you do not say,” he said.  “You do not need to keep your silence.  That is but my name: it is not what I demand.”

She did not laugh.  She did not smile.  She looked at him with icy eyes, and he felt the rumble of the approaching storm…but rather than retreat, he met her gaze, waiting for the hail to fall.

“You abandoned us.”

The first words dealt a heavy blow, and he nearly staggered beneath the weight of them.  “You said you were sending us away, for our safety, and I believed that.  With all my heart, I wanted to believe that – even without seeing Gyges again, I knew there were horrors rising as we fled, and every night I prayed that you would find your way safely back to us.  For years I prayed, every night, that you would return to us.  Even when the Hoshidans took us in.  Even when their king offered me a place at his side as queen and consort.  I still prayed every night that you would find your way to the gates and return to us…”

Her voice trembled, her hands curling into fists at her sides.  “And then our child was stolen.  And that’s when I stopped praying.  I’d feared for so long that you might never find your way to us, but I fought so hard to stay strong, to keep heart…but we lost everything.  I lost two husbands and my child to that exile, and now you simply appear here as though nothing at all has happened – now, when I so long ago lost the heart to pray!?”

Blood dripped from her trembling fists. 

He reached out to her, taking one of her hands and coaxing her fingers to uncurl.  Her delicate nails had dug deep into her palms, though thankfully the cuts were shallow…

Something dripped onto the marks as he leaned over them.

“I am sorry,” he breathed, and his words cracked like rime.  “I wanted to return to you.  I tried with all I had – I sought to protect you, to protect Corrin, from that horror that destroyed Valla, but…it claimed me.  All you lost was by my hand.  I am sorry I did not join you.  I am sorry, Mikoto.  I…”

Her other hand reached up to touch his cheek.  Something crept down his cheek as he lifted his head to meet her eye, and he tasted salt when it settled at the corner of his mouth.  “Why are you crying?” she asked, her voice no louder than the murmur of rain. 

He blinked, dislodging another tear as yet more welled to take their places.  “I left you to raise a child alone in an unknown land.  I could not stop that very child’s loss.  I caused you so much pain.  You suffered for my actions.  You had no reason to treat me kindly.  And yet you did.”

The words did not come easy.  But words so rarely had.  And he knew he had to speak them now, though his voice betrayed him, splintering as pack ice in the silence.  “I do not ask forgiveness of you.  I could not.  I have caused you too much grief.  But still, you called to me.  You brought me back to myself.  I owe you…I owe you everything and more.  I want to give you peace, and happiness – if I must leave to do so I will without protest–”

“Gods, you’re such a fool,” she hiccoughed. 

His breath hitched as she smiled at him, brushing tears from her own eyes.  “Haven’t you listened to a word I said?  You leaving caused this whole mess in the first place.”

“But…but after…I-I could hurt you again, I…”

“Running away isn’t going to make anything better,” she sighed.  “You need to stay.  How else can you get close to your family again, if you leave?”

Struggling to breathe, he clasped her warm fingers in his cold hands.  “You would…we could be…family again?” he whispered. 

She sighed, patting his knuckles with her free hand.  “You have a child.  A grandchild.  You can’t be part of their lives if you run away.  But it’s been a long time.”

He felt an ache in his heart, unlike any he had ever known.  But he knew, too, that this was the way it should be.  “Might we…be friends again, at least?”

At last, the light returned to her eyes, shimmering like sunlight on the waves.  “I would be glad for it, Hydra.”

How long had it been since he had been called by that name?  How long since he had heard her speak it with such warmth?  He opened his arms in silent invitation…

And she moved to embrace him, her warmth chasing away the cold fear as he lay his cheek against her hair. 

#fire emblem: fates #fire emblem: heroes #fanfiction #anankos #mikoto #answered #teamelementaldorks #i got to play with so many fun things in these prompts thank you so much #weird broken thought patterns #all the water analogies #i haven't played around like this in ages this was a delight #and i hope i did okay with the two of them #snippets

[ganondorfthedarklord]

Muse Info

Repost it, don’t reblog.

Full name: Ganondorf Dragmire

Pronunciation: ga-nun-dorf draeg-m(ire) Nicknames: King, Emperor, Demon, Daemon, Darkness, Devil, etc. etc. Height: 9′2″ Age: varies, born 32 years prior to the end of OoT (25 years prior to the beginning) and 48 years prior to the execution described in Twilight Princess. Zodiac: irrelevant Spoken languages: Archaic Gerudo, Gerudo, Old Hylian, Middle Hylian, Modern Hylian, to a limited degree Goddess Script (the language of the time before Skyloft, far better at reading it), Blin, and Shikah, as well as simplistic basics of Gerudo and Zora.

PHYSICAL CHARACTERISTICS.

Hair color: Sunny orange at the roots and fades to bright then blood red at the very tips Eye color: Gold Skin tone: A very earthy, browned shade of green Body type: Massive, built like a wall and with similar structure to a strongman, thrice as broad, time and a half as tall, and similarly as deep as an average man. There’s a thin layer of fat over the deep muscle. Accent: He can speak with perfect accent of the Hylian Royal Court of his day, however he prefers to lay a slight native touch to his words which tends to have small effects that accentuate u, add an e-like sound after hard a, soften the s, and alter how the r is pronounced Dominant hand: Right-handed by nature, trained into being practically ambidextrous Posture: Straight and commanding usually, though can become hunched forward with stress and strain. Scars: Countless, most from his youth such as the lichtenberg from when he was first learning lightning magic, the claws from sparring against wolfos and eventually subjugating them, his burns and marks from failure, the slit in his left foot from when he stepped on the wrong tile, the piercings from arrows, then the massive crack in his chest either from the Master Sword in the Adult timeline being repeatedly struck against him or the Sage’s Sword in the Child timeline from his attempted execution, as well as the deep cut on his forehead which a small mark has been there since birth, but was split open in the Adult timeline again by the Master Sword. A full map of his scarring can be found here with the scar types more easily identified, but I will also show the full scar map below, with Link and Zelda for height comparison.

Tattoos: Some illustrations of his heritage and history mark his back. I’m still working on exact details! Most noticeable features: The nose, originally long and proud was very impressive, it still is after being broken flat its breadth still taking up a significant amount of his face. The way his hair is flares out like flames. Sheer size and commanding presence is of course imprinting. One of the significant ones which only becomes truly striking later in life is the way his gleaming gold eyes pierce through a shadow and darkened skin that surrounds them.

CHILDHOOD.

Place of birth: Gerudo Desert, the Spirit Temple Hometown: Gerudo Fortress Birth weight/height: – Relatively heavy and large, but nothing outside of normal bounds for a child, he didn’t really hit his growth until the age of two Manner of birth: – Natural, aided lightly by magic First words: – Water, sister, king, field (though obviously through limited pronunciation and in Gerudo) Siblings: None biologically Parents: A mother originally, two adoptive mothers, though trainers would probably be more apt, later on Parental involvement: His birth mother was very involved and caring, his later adoptive mothers, Koume and Kotake, were extremely harsh, strict, and quite cruel honestly, but he appreciates it for building him to be who he is

ADULT LIFE

Occupation: King of the Gerudo, King of Darkness, Emperor of the Dark Realm, Conqueror of all Current residence: Will vary based on time period, but he has one vault of sorts, a place to store the valuables he keeps across his lives ranging from books to artifacts, kept in a small isolated room buried beneath the Gerudo Desert. Close friends: None, formerly Nabooru Relationship status: Single Financial status: In his youth and as a Gerudo King originally, more than the average Hylian peasant, but beside what he could scrounge up and his impressive sets of armor and weapons, the gem on his head, as well as a significant collection of (stolen) books, he was very poor compared to Hylian nobility. Driver’s license: He can ride a horse extremely well Criminal record: Among his kin, none until the time he enters the forbidden pyramid as a child in Four Swords Adventure, among other civilizations, yes would be a shorter list. Vices: Jealousy, wrath, to a lesser extent envy

SEX & ROMANCE.

Sexual orientation: Heterosexual, he wants children. Romantic orientation: Not much, but hetero if anything I suppose. Preferred emotional role: submissive | dominant (though he prefers his partner be able to meet him on the same ground, so not really a dominant-submissive role but more dominant-dominant) | switch | unsure Preferred sexual role: submissive | dominant | switch | sex repulsed | unsure Libido: Turn on’s: NOT TODAY BUT I WILL GIVE YOU ROMANTIC ATTRACTIONS. Ganondorf wants someone strong of mind most, he thrives in competition and so seeks that edge while still needing loyalty and closeness. It’s a bit of a fine line, a mutual status is needed. He’d also prefer physical strength but that’s less important. He wants challenge and someone to be able to match him with the same passion, especially for history, philosophy, and strategy, physicality as well if possible. Turn off’s: Turn Away: Being unable to keep up with his discussion, lacking interest in any of his own passions, submission. Love language: Physical closeness as well as some acts, but restrained more to quiet words when he needs to control his image. Relationship tendencies: Ganondorf is someone who controls his presentation at all times, who always considers how to manipulate and control others. He has habit of controlling himself when he feels the need, but at the same time if it’s not useful to him has little care for the opinions of others or any sensibilities they might have. At this he rarely allows his emotions to be openly visible outside of private chambers, he’ll still embrace and show affection but it’s very controlled. Once isolated from anyone he intends to manipulate or keep a certain image towards, however, he is a very passionate man who will show his affection with physical closeness. What he wants most in a partner though is intelligent conversation, even if its opposition, and trust. Being able to speak and understand one another, and regardless of disagreement still trust and be together, is something he considers very important. He enjoys challenge and debate.

MISCELLANEOUS.

Character’s theme song: Who has just one? Hobbies to pass the time: The one thing that is truly purely a hobby for him is music, specifically strings, piano, and most of all the organ. He also enjoys studying magic, history, going on field studies and hunting, hiking, and sparring, but these are all also involved in keeping himself trained and honed for his conquests. Mental illnesses: I don’t identify any, I prefer to write his personality and you can decide Physical illnesses: None Left or right brained: Closest to left, but it’s not clear cut, he also has his creativity and touch of romanticism. Fears: The death of his kin and culture, betrayal and complete isolation, most of these come to pass, loss of control, of self determination, enslavement, is his greatest concern. Vulnerabilities: He is poor at readjusting to things he had not considered and his own sense of grandeur of theatrics and honor can be a detriment, another is his need to not just win but for complete victory, that he can never stop at just conquest of Hyrule but needs to strive to make himself absolute and entirely beyond any other rule than his own is what most leads him to failure, even if he realizes this he can’t change it, his goals are set and he will reach them no matter how impossible they are.

tagged by: @telesthisia thanks! I really appreciate it! tagging: uuuUUUUUHHH YOU GOOD SIR OR MADAM. WHOEVER YOU ARE.

#▲~Side Missions~▲

[hamliet]

HxH Characters and the MBTI

As requested by @aspoonofsugar. :D 

The Myers-Briggs Personality type is older than the Enneagram, and consists of sixteen types based on four different pairs of personality traits: Introversion vs. Extroversion; Sensing vs. Intuition, Feeling vs. Thinking, and Perceiving vs. Judging. To be clear, none of these categories are black and white–for example, all Feelers are capable of using logic, and Thinkers have feelings and care about people–but it’s a cool way of understanding personalities.

I’m not going to do every character, but simply the characters I think are most important and/or my favorites. :P Also, this is just my opinion and definitely open to debate! MBTI isn’t a science; it’s just a fun tool.

Main Characters:

Gon Freecss: ESFP “The Entertainer”

The biggest challenge ESFPs face is that they are often so focused on immediate pleasures that they neglect the duties and responsibilities that make those luxuries possible. Complex analysis, repetitive tasks, and matching statistics to real consequences are not easy activities for ESFPs. They’d rather rely on luck or opportunity, or simply ask for help from their extensive circle of friends. 

Killua Zoldyck: INTJ “The Architect” 

It’s lonely at the top... People with the INTJ personality type are imaginative yet decisive, ambitious yet private, amazingly curious, but they do not squander their energy.

Kurapika: ISFJ “The Defender” 

ISFJ personalities (especially Turbulent ones) are often meticulous to the point of perfectionism... ISFJs take their responsibilities personally, consistently going above and beyond, doing everything they can to exceed expectations and delight others, at work and at home. ISFJ personalities are a wonderful group, rarely sitting idle while a worthy cause remains unfinished

Leorio Paladiknight: ESFJ “The Consul”

Supportive and outgoing, ESFJs can always be spotted at a party – they’re the ones finding time to chat and laugh with everyone! But their devotion goes further than just breezing through because they have to. ESFJs truly enjoy hearing about their friends’ relationships and activities, remembering little details and always standing ready to talk things out with warmth and sensitivity.

Hisoka Morow: ENTP “The Debater” 

The ENTP personality type is the ultimate devil’s advocate, thriving on the process of shredding arguments and beliefs and letting the ribbons drift in the wind for all to see. Unlike their more determined Judging (J) counterparts, ENTPs don’t do this because they are trying to achieve some deeper purpose or strategic goal, but for the simple reason that it’s fun.

Illumi Zoldyck: ISTJ “The Logistician”

Their defining characteristics of integrity, practical logic and tireless dedication to duty make ISTJs a vital core to many families, as well as organizations that uphold traditions, rules and standards, such as law offices, regulatory bodies and military. People with the ISTJ personality type enjoy taking responsibility for their actions, and take pride in the work they do – when working towards a goal, ISTJs hold back none of their time and energy completing each relevant task with accuracy and patience..Dependency on others is often seen by ISTJs as a weakness, and their passion for duty, dependability and impeccable personal integrity forbid falling into such a trap... their blunt approach leaves others with the false impression that ISTJs are cold, or even robotic. People with this type may struggle to express emotion or affection outwardly, but the suggestion that they don’t feel, or worse have no personality at all, is deeply hurtful.

Chrollo Lucilfer: INTJ “The Architect”

He’s a confusing one because I kept going back and forth on the F or T function. But I lean T. 

While this may be intended as an insult by their peers, they more than likely identify with it and are even proud of it, greatly enjoying their broad and deep body of knowledge. INTJs enjoy sharing what they know as well, confident in their mastery of their chosen subjects, but owing to their Intuitive (N) and Judging (J) traits, they prefer to design and execute a brilliant plan within their field rather than share opinions on “uninteresting” distractions like gossip... A paradox to most observers, INTJs are able to live by glaring contradictions that nonetheless make perfect sense – at least from a purely rational perspective. For example, INTJs are simultaneously the most starry-eyed idealists and the bitterest of cynics, a seemingly impossible conflict. 

Dumpster Fire The Zoldyck Family

Alluka: ESFJ “The Consul”

ESFJs love to be of service, enjoying any role that allows them to participate in a meaningful way, so long as they know that they are valued and appreciated. 

Milluki Zoldyck: ISTP, “The Virtuoso”

While their mechanical tendencies can make them appear simple at a glance, ISTPs are actually quite enigmatic. Friendly but very private, calm but suddenly spontaneous, extremely curious but unable to stay focused on formal studies, ISTP personalities can be a challenge to predict, even by their friends and loved ones. ISTPs can seem very loyal and steady for a while, but they tend to build up a store of impulsive energy that explodes without warning, taking their interests in bold new directions.

Kalluto Zoldyck: ISFJ “The Defender”

I went back and forth on whether he was an ISTJ or ISFJ but decided on F thanks to that one brief snippet we had into Kalluto’s mind and how he desired to help Feitan whereas the other PT members did not. 

ISFJ personalities (especially Turbulent ones) are often meticulous to the point of perfectionism, and though they procrastinate, they can always be relied on to get the job done on time. 

The Phantom Troupe (or my faves there)

Machi: INTP “The Logician”

Further, with Thinking (T) as one of their governing traits, INTPs are unlikely to understand emotional complaints at all, and their friends won’t find a bedrock of emotional support in them. People with the INTP personality type would much rather make a series of logical suggestions for how to resolve the underlying issue, a perspective that is not always welcomed by their Feeling (F) companions... INTP personalities are so prone to reassessing their own thoughts and theories, worrying that they’ve missed some critical piece of the puzzle, that they can stagnate, lost in an intangible world where their thoughts are never truly applied.

Feitan: ISTJ “The Logistician”

ISTJ personalities are no-nonsense, and when they’ve made a decision, they will relay the facts necessary to achieve their goal, expecting others to grasp the situation immediately and take action. ISTJs have little tolerance for indecisiveness, but lose patience even more quickly if their chosen course is challenged with impractical theories, especially if they ignore key details – if challenges becomes time-consuming debates, ISTJs can become noticeably angry as deadlines tick nearer.

Phinks: ESTJ “The Executive”

ESTJs are aware of their surroundings and live in a world of clear, verifiable facts – the surety of their knowledge means that even against heavy resistance, they stick to their principles and push an unclouded vision of what is and is not acceptable... However, ESTJs don’t work alone, and they expect their reliability and work ethic to be reciprocated – people with this personality type meet their promises, and if partners or subordinates jeopardize them through incompetence or laziness, or worse still, dishonesty, they do not hesitate to show their wrath.

Pakunoda: ISFJ “The Defender”

ISFJs utilize excellent memories not to retain data and trivia, but to remember people, and details about their lives.

Shizuku: INTP “The Logician” 

Usually known as the philosopher, the architect, or the dreamy professor... They may appear to drift about in an unending daydream, but INTPs’ thought process is unceasing, and their minds buzz with ideas from the moment they wake up. This constant thinking can have the effect of making them look pensive and detached,

Uvogin: ESTP “The Entrepreneur” 

If ESTPs aren’t careful though, they may get too caught in the moment, take things too far, and run roughshod over more sensitive people, or forget to take care of their own health and safety... ESTPs are full of passion and energy, complemented by a rational, if sometimes distracted, mind. Inspiring, convincing and colorful, they are natural group leaders, pulling everyone along the path less traveled, bringing life and excitement everywhere they go. Putting these qualities to a constructive and rewarding end is ESTPs’ true challenge.

Shalnark: ENTP, “The Debater” 

ENTPs only make up about three percent of the population, which is just right, as it lets them create original ideas, then step back to let more numerous and fastidious personalities handle the logistics of implementation and maintenance.

Nobunaga: ESFP “The Entertainer” 

[T]here’s no greater joy for ESFP personalities than to bring everyone else along for the ride. ESFPs can chat for hours, sometimes about anything but the topic they meant to talk about, and share their loved ones’ emotions through good times and bad. 

Chimera Ants:

Meruem: ISTJ “The Logistician”

[P]eople with the ISTJ personality type often prefer to work alone, or at least have their authority clearly established by hierarchy, where they can set and achieve their goals without debate or worry over other’s reliability.ISTJs have sharp, fact-based minds, and prefer autonomy and self-sufficiency to reliance on someone or something.

Komugi: ISTP “The Virtuoso”

ISTPs love to explore with their hands and their eyes, touching and examining the world around them with cool rationalism and spirited curiosity... ISTPs explore ideas through creating, troubleshooting, trial and error and first-hand experience. ... ISTPs enjoy lending a hand and sharing their experience, especially with the people they care about... ISTP personalities can be a challenge to predict, even by their friends and loved ones.

Pitou: ESFJ “The Consul”

ESFJs are the cheerleaders and the quarterbacks, setting the tone, taking the spotlight and leading their teams forward to victory and fame... ESFJs continue to enjoy supporting their friends and loved ones, organizing social gatherings and doing their best to make sure everyone is happy.

Shaiapouf: ISTJ “The Logistician”

People with the ISTJ personality type enjoy taking responsibility for their actions, and take pride in the work they do – when working towards a goal, ISTJs hold back none of their time and energy completing each relevant task with accuracy and patience... ISTJs tend to keep their opinions to themselves and let the facts do the talking, but it can be a long time before observable evidence tells the whole story.ISTJs need to remember to take care of themselves – their stubborn dedication to stability and efficiency can compromise those goals in the long term as others lean ever-harder on them, creating an emotional strain that can go unexpressed for years, only finally coming out after it’s too late to fix. If they can find coworkers and spouses who genuinely appreciate and complement their qualities, who enjoy the brightness, clarity and dependability that they offer, ISTJs will find that their stabilizing role is a tremendously satisfying one, knowing that they are part of a system that works.

Palm Siberia: ISFJ “The Defender”

ISFJs utilize excellent memories not to retain data and trivia, but to remember people, and details about their lives. 

Kurapika’s Side Character Buds

Senritsu/Melody: “The Advocate”

INFJs indeed share a unique combination of traits: though soft-spoken, they have very strong opinions and will fight tirelessly for an idea they believe in. They are decisive and strong-willed, but will rarely use that energy for personal gain – INFJs will act with creativity, imagination, conviction and sensitivity not to create advantage, but to create balance. Egalitarianism and karma are very attractive ideas to INFJs, and they tend to believe that nothing would help the world so much as using love and compassion to soften the hearts of tyrants.

Oito Hui Guo Rou: ESFJ “The Consul”

Moral of this: Why Oito should take over the Kakin Empire and make it a matriarchy. 

ESFJs are more concerned with fashion and their appearance, their social status and the standings of other people. Practical matters and gossip are their bread and butter, but ESFJs do their best to use their powers for good. ESFJs are altruists, and they take seriously their responsibility to help and to do the right thing.

#mbti #hxh meta #gon freecss #killua zoldyck #kurapika #leorio paladiknight #hisoka morow #illumi zoldyck #chrollo lucilfer #kalluto zoldyck #alluka zoldyck #milluki zoldyck #phantom troupe #oito hui guo rou #senritsu #palm siberia #meruem #komugi #pitou #shaiapouf #machi komachine #feitan portor #phinks magcub #uvogin #shalnark #nobunaga hazama

[a-writing-bear]

[PruCan WEEK 2018] Day 3 - Spellbinding Souls & Ageless Allure

Ao3 Link:

Link to this fic: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16166468

Link to previous fic (Day 2):  https://archiveofourown.org/works/16154843

Link to PruCan Week 2018 Collection: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1145768

Tumblr Link:

Link to Day 2 fic ( Previous) 

This Has been cross-posted onto FF & Ao3 under Aliases: BearBooper

You can read this Fic on Tumblr under ‘Keep Reading’

Fandom: Hetalia Axis Powers

Main Pairing: Gilbert Beilschmidt & Matthew Williams (Prussia & Canada)

Prompt: Mystery / Curiosity for @prucanweek

Summary:  Magic AU! Gilbert is an Old Spirit of Mischief and arcane magic - he reminisces the first time he fell in love with the demigod of the forest.

Word Count: 1,711

Age Rating/Mature: All Audiences :)

Author Note:  I’m not gonna lie, I’ve been itching to write another magic fic... I had a blast on this one! :D 

Wisps of the forest seemed to be in a jovial mood as the soft breeze of frigid wind wound and whipped around the tall timber of the ever-stretching woods; The beauty of the forest still felt captivating, even after traversing through it’s miles of  old earth for many years. Oaken towers of bare bark wept and whistled, contrasting their full-dressed pine brethren who relished in the oncoming cold with prickles still unplucked, ready to bare the hushed chill. winter was arriving and autumn had embraced it’s end with such bountiful harvests; Gilbert smirked. If only the locals knew of Matthew’s hard work to conjure the glorious growth that befell them this term. There was some melancholic beauty in the shivering ground and although the ancient mage preferred the view in its vibrant green state or its amber tones, he withheld the urge to intervene in its natural order. No wallowing flora would deceive him, nor the crawling fauna which was crying out for a healing warmth would trick him into touching it- His beloved would berate him for messing with the work of Mother Nature and of the other olden Gods.

It was peculiar for him. To now have the discipline to not interfere with the natural order or to pester the environment, and for what? The icy pale magi was an ancient master of his craft if he wanted he could be the harbinger of fear, instil curses upon a prideful soul or charm the village beauty with a simple evocative spell… he could have ransacked the valley for himself and live in the silent retreat he once yearned for. And yet, he chooses to wander in the elegance of his lover’s eloquent craft. Matthew’s attention to detail when working on his land was impeccable, and while it’s autumn glory felt ephemeral, he found it timely that the season change now; of course Matthew made the transition as gradual and untroubled as possible. His sore feet had brought him to the small familiar cottage. A warm fire must have been blazing as he saw the ashy smoke climb up and out of the chimney with a slow but steady drag. Matthew had to be working on a new spell- the door had been left open and footsteps suggested the man had recently gone out to pick at the rosemary bush in the dirt nearby. With a grin he walked in, making sure to shake off any residing dirt and too warm up his cheeks that were marked in pink by the seasonal weather. Hunched over a book and telekinetically balancing multiple tools (namely a spoon and a mixture of woodland ingredients) within the air, His beloved had been enthusiastically humming as if to harmonise with the crackling fire just ahead of them.

“A new breakthrough perhaps or have the ancient Lords given you a new project?” Gilbert mused, breaking the focus that the strawberry blonde had on his work, thus making the once floating objects clatter violently on the ground.

“Gil! You must see what Kiku had teleported to us! Wild ‘ Flammulina velutipes’ - Winter fungus!” Matthew had brought forth a handful of shrooms, ranging in shades of brown but all holding a distinct earthy smell. The pure amazement on the younger mage bewildered Gilbert; For the centuries Gilbert had moved along this existence, he had encountered this plant in the far east end of the world- what was so spectacular of this bunch that had excited his love? Obviously seeing this puzzlement, Matthew explained with great engagement over his research:

“It’s a rare brand of its own kind which can withstand winter! And I’ve grown these before but when cultivated it loses its colour for a milky white palette. It’s so difficult to find the wild versions but Kiku had many growing in his territory among the roots of his persimmon trees so he teleported a stock over to me!” Matthew’s grin growing ever so adoring and thankful, the gratitude evident in his soft eyes.

“I guess we’ll have to send him a gift then? Maybe another protectant charm for his people’s new harbours?” Gilbert supplied as he watched Matthew fiddle with putting away the sacred gift as well as picking up the dropped items and rummaging around to put them away. The pale man had picked up a few out of place belongings and stacked them neatly in order to assist in the cleaning.

“I thought so too, he’d been having trouble with the water spirits again. I just finished preparing one but I felt an owl would not be appropriate for a border-crossing journey and summoning Kuma to deliver it would be disrespectful to his spirit’s resting hour.”

“How about I send it over? I’m low on mana but I’m sure I’ve got enough stored for a simple token transport…” He trailed his busy bee lover as they made their way to the living room- Matthew helping Gilbert strip off his heavy cloak and grasp his hand to pull him closer.

“There is much mana to go around Gil, I’ve already finished my duty to the forest spirits, I won't be doing much anymore- just the simple casting. Go ahead to use my supply later. Rest first.” The two bundled up on a small raggedy couch, cuddling nearer in the glow of the fireplace and enjoying each other’s voices and strong grip.

He had fallen for Matthew centuries ago. Back when Matthew had been a mere mortal, born with the blessing of a forest deity. Gil had heard of his arrival and progression even from the far distance of his homeland, the story of an extraordinary soul being carried along by murmurs and rumours of wandering spirits. The waves of silky hair that had been sunkissed, and the eyes of a lavender in bloom, all finished with a face holding youth and a kindness that radiated tranquillity. Matthew was born to learn of the forest and to take care of its livelihood. Gilbert had been passing by, a simple detour in his travel to find a place to chaotically mess with- but as a young man whose face looked to naive to go against a power like him holding a staff pointing straight at him in defiance, the arcane magi knew this was no ordinary soul, tales of his prowess were faithful. The youth had approached him on a warm spring evening just as Gilbert had arrived to steal a thriving crop of flowers in a nearby field for some easy energy. Gilbert stopped his impulsive actions for a split second when he first gazed upon the enchanting soul. He had met many blessed magical folks, but like all blooming gifts, they would wither away within their short lifetimes. He had seen them come and go and he’d never expect to meet such a recent exception. Whereas many of the ancient gods were hesitant in keeping a chosen one alive for more than an average human lifetime, it became clear Matthew was much more devout and golden-hearted in his following and teachings - so much so Lady Terra had given him the prize of eternal youth and immortal breath. This did not corrupt him, and so a simple conjurer rose from the ranks of plain magic-bearing folk to becoming a preacher of the divine; Destined to also be the stealer of Gilbert’s affections and the banisher of his past cruelties.

He admired Matthew. Originally his lingering on this continent was excused by his curiosity over this new demigod, but that morphed into an infatuation over his brilliance and the bold felicity he displayed. His soul had an ineffable grace to it, tinged in an introverted humble magnificence which Gilbert was absolutely lured towards. To Matthew, Gilbert was a complete mystery; there was a distinct blurring of his past when he was questioned and in the beginning he only he knew Gilbert to be a product of much older times, times even before the great age they were currently in. Times when darkness was rampant and gods did not seek to comfort their people. At first, it was off-putting to have such a powerful being watch and follow him, but he supposed Gilbert was bored or that, like him, had discovered a while back how lonely immortality could be. They thrived off each other, like how their magic thrived off their surroundings, trust and beliefs.

It was very odd at first- when they had decided to work together. Arcane magic like Gilbert’s required intense amounts of energy, and most of the time finicky ceremonial practices must be conducted in order to tame said raw energy. Theurgy was a picky gimmick he supposed, the discipline was obnoxious and time-consuming. The complete opposite was to be said of Matthew’s….low magic (Which apparently was insulting to say)... as it focused on already present sources of energy instead of pulling it from other realms; It was practical magic that was practised on simpler spells and much simpler rituals. Tasks and objectives were clear with folk magic. The skills that bled into it were easy day-to-day kinesis and at the most complicated level, spells would involve spirit summoning like Matthew’s animal companion Kuma. Arcane magic was unpredictable in comparison to the intricately crafted logic-filled spellwork of the newer beings. Matthew’s spells fed off the rawer energy that Gilbert’s presence had provided and the other man’s feral sorcery was neutralised around the demigod’s aura. They were balanced and synced and it made them more than happy to use it as an excuse to bask in each other’s existence. It also helped of how fond they were of each other’s smiles and sweet serenities.

His fingers had been mindlessly twirling strands of his lover’s hair, catching and twisting in the movement as they bother lazed around. Pushed up against his chest, the blonde had somehow conjured a woven blanket and snuggled up pleasantly into Gilbert’s personal space. It had been centuries since he met Matthew and there was still no sense of foreboding desire to run away or to break loose, and he sincerely hoped he never has such awful thoughts. They cherished the company and with his lips pressing into his soulmate’s own, even in such cold weather did his heart grow cosy with love.

#prucanweek #prucan #hetalia #hetalia axis powers #Axis Powers Hetalia #Hetalia Fanfiction #prompts #prucanweek2018