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hisui-dreamer · 6 months

Text

such lengths

Pairing: Floyd Leech x f!reader

Synopsis: if your fiancé is the one to kill you in an arranged marriage you can't refuse, then why not seduce said fiancé so he won't kill you?

Tags: fluff, cliché isekai plots, reincarnation, female reader, historical setting, arranged marriages

Word count: 1.7k+

Notes: how did i write more for floyd than malleus💀

anywaysss early birthday prize for everyone's second favourite eel!!

✧Jade's Villainess✧ ✧Malleus' Villainess✧

Masterlist

The tale of this noblewoman is nothing short of a pitiful one.

Though born into a lineage of high prestige, her family's former glory had withered away, drained dry by the toils of generations past. Yet, the count and countess, bound by love and tenderness, still showered their daughter with affection, sparing no effort to ensure her well-being.

The noblewoman yearned for this fleeting happiness to linger, but destiny rarely extends its benevolent hand for long. On her eleventh birthday, her mother, weary from the ceaseless burdens of the household, succumbed to a devastating illness and became bedridden. In a desperate gambit to procure funds for the cure to his wife's illness, the count embarked on treacherous voyages to distant shores, seeking business opportunities in the coastal realms.

But alas, the wheel of misfortune turned relentlessly. On her fourteenth birthday, while returning home with promises of a prosperous business deal, the count met his untimely end in a harrowing carriage accident.

As the sole heir to the county, she was burdened with the weight of the title, a mantle too heavy for an adolescent to bear. She undertook the grim task of orchestrating her father's funeral. During the somber ceremony, a peculiar party of visitors arrived, their countenance unsettling, teeth like razors and stature unnaturally tall. She soon learned these were the Leech family, the very traders her father had forged deals with.

They dangled an irresistible proposition before her, one she could not refuse; in exchange for becoming the betrothed of the eldest Leech son, her mother's well-being would be safeguarded, and the finest remedies would be at her disposal.

Thus, the noblewoman, too foolish and naive, chose to secure her mother's future. Their union was sealed when she reached the age of eighteen. Yet, not even a year passed before a sinister illness overcame her, her constitution ravaged by a poison slowly administered by her own husband.

The Leech family, though incredibly wealthy and influential, had always hungered for the societal standing that had long eluded them. The noblewoman, unknowingly, was their golden ladder to ascend into aristocracy, for deceiving the aristocratic circles into believing she was sickly, much like her mother, proved a simple task.

And so, the noblewoman passed away pitifully, her title passed into the hands of her husband, and her mother soon followed her beloved daughter.

of all the characters you could've have reincarnated as, you had the worst luck of all when you woke up as Floyd's late wife

heck, Floyd wasn't even the main character of the novel, it was some businessman that grew up to be greedy and cruel, but had to learn how to love again after meeting the heroine

his late wife was just briefly mentioned for a paragraph about how the leech family, basically the mafia from "fathoms below", started gaining more influence and helped the businessman with his schemes

though Floyd and his twin brother jade did gain a large fanbase, they were a pretty striking duo and when did red flags ever stop fans from simping

you yourself were a huge fan of the twins, but even you didn't instantly recognize you became Floyd's late wife

it was only when you were grieving with your mother about the passing of your caring father and the leech family showed up at the funeral

the striking teal hair, mismatched eyes, and carefree grin stood out almost immediately

Mr. Leech, an formidable figure, cast a shadow of authority as he shattered the oppressive silence that had draped itself over the elegant garden. His voice, deep and resonant, possessed a commanding quality as he addressed you. "My condolences for your loss, my dear. Your father and I were business partners... He spoke very highly of you."

With a sense of poised grace, you offered a nod at his words. "Thank you, Mr. Leech. It is an honor to have made the acquaintance of your family, even under these less-than-fortunate circumstances."

Jade, his sharp and composed eyes keenly focused on you, joined the conversation. "I'm very sorry for your loss. I'm Jade," he offered his hand in greeting.

You shook his hand, your voice filled with gratitude. "Thank you, Jade."

In stark contrast, Floyd, exuding an aura of indifference. Mr. Leech took it upon himself to introduce him, placing a firm hand on his shoulder. "And this is Floyd, my eldest son."

You extended a polite greeting to Floyd, your tone warm and inviting as you curtseyed. "Hello, Floyd. It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance."

Floyd, maintaining his stoic demeanor, made a "hmph" sound before turning away, his demeanor aloof.

Sensing the tension and his apparent disinterest, you scrambled for a way to interest him. "Oh uhm, you must be tired from your journey. Would you care for some refreshments? We have some pastries prepared, if you'd like."

He turns back to you, a glint of interest flickering in his curious eyes. "Hmmm... Alright, why don'tcha show me what you've got prepared, Shrimpy?" He responds, the edges of his lips curling upward.

thankfully, the funeral came to a close peacefully, and Floyd seemingly got along with you

from then you awaited the offer letter from Mr Leech to arrive

you remembered that Floyd, though easily bored, could be really dedicated to something if he wanted to

so what better way to survive, than to make Floyd like you?? only then will your mom get the medicine she needs, and you'll survive without struggling in poverty

worse case scenario, he gets bored of you when you're older and you'll just divorce

and if he's the one asking for the divorce, he can't really make you pay compensation for the past medical fees

so, you decided to accept the proposal nonetheless

but not without precautions!! you started studying intensely on all sorts of poisons and antidotes, just in case Floyd randomly gets bored and tries to unalive you

though if he wanted to end your life with brute force, you knew you wouldn't stand a chance against him

as fiancés, there's not much improvement in your relationship

sometimes he's bored and finds hanging out with you a chore, other times he's following you around like a curious puppy, and there are also moments where he pranks you to see your reactions

you've tried becoming closer to him by getting him cool shoes and playing instruments, but he's far too aloof for you to know if he likes you or not

but thankfully, your mother's complection has improved a lot, and it does look like she's recovering

and once you're both officially adults and married, you start attending public events with floyd to establish your connections

or more accurately, for the leech family to establish connections with aristocracy

this time, it was a tea party held by some business competitors of the leech family

The elegant garden was a tranquil haven for the tea party, the soft murmur of leaves rustling in the gentle breeze providing a soothing background to the clink of fine china and hushed conversations. You, Floyd, and the other aristocratic adolescents settled around a beautifully adorned table, the porcelain teacups and dainty pastries tempting you all.

Floyd lifted the delicate teacup to his lips as he rolled his eyes, having grown weary of the incessant chatter and polite pleasantries that surrounded him. Just as he was about to take a sip, you noticed a faint, unusual scent wafting from his cup, a scent that sent a chilling realization down your spine.

With lightning-quick reflexes, you reached out and pressed your hand against Floyd's, preventing him from taking that fateful sip. "Wait, Floyd, don't," you whispered urgently.

Startled, Floyd's gaze darted to your eyes, confusion etched across his face. "What's wrong, Shrimpy?" he asked, taken aback by your trembling hands.

You carefully take out the silver hairpin gifted to you by Mr Leech from your hair, murmuring, "Please explain this to father-in-law later..." Carefully, you submerged the hairpin into Floyd's cup, and both of you watched in horror as the pearly hairpin rapidly transformed into a sinister shade of black.

His eyes widened as he looked down at the poisoned tea, realizing the danger he had been unknowingly on the brink of. Anger simmered beneath the surface, his emotions stirred by the audacity of someone attempting harm. Swiftly, he plucked the hairpin from the cup, using his handkerchief to conceal the incriminating evidence before the guests could catch on.

"I'm bored," His voice carried throughout the venue, capturing the attention of the other guests. "Let's get out of here." He said as he pulled you up from your seat with a firm yet gentle gesture, placing an arm around your shoulder as he guided you away from the tea party.

Once you were far from prying eyes, he pulled you close, wrapping you in a protective embrace. His large hand moved soothingly over your back, attempting to calm your trembling form.

"Thanks, Shrimpy. I owe ya one" he whispered into your hair. After a brief moment, he pulled back slightly, his intense gaze fixed on your eyes. "But how'd ya know my tea was messed with?"

Anxiety seized your body at the question, the weight of your response holding immense consequences. If you answered wrongly, Floyd might suspect your intentions. In a panic, you blurted out the first thing that came to mind.

"I wanted to protect you!"

Floyd blinked. "Protect... me?"

"Yes!" You affirmed. "I thought maybe there would be attempts on your life since your family's incredibly influential, and I wanted to be able to protect you..." You murmured the last bit, praying that you were making sense.

With an expression of genuine astonishment, Floyd stared at you, unblinking. It was clear that your explanation had taken him by surprise, the notion of your dedication leaving him momentarily speechless.

"You... you went through such lengths... to protect me?" Floyd finally managed to utter, a hint of incredulity in his voice. A glimmer of warmth crept into his eyes as he studied your face, taking in the sincerity in your actions.

Before you could conjure up an answer, his grip on your shoulder tightened, drawing you closer to him. "You're really something else, Shrimpy," he murmured, a faint smile playing at the corners of his lips. "Hahaha! I wouldn't mind having you around!"

needless to say, floyd started following you around even more now

it seems this event really helped you gain his trust and affection

soon after the party, he gifted you a new hairpin, with "pearls he found himself" he says

he starts getting jealous when you spend more time studying poisons with jade but if you say you're doing it because you want to protect him he melts again

looks like you're not losing your life anytime soon, but i also don't think that eel is letting go of you ever

Masterlist

if you liked this post, don't forget to reblog!

#i love the dynamic of floyd being like 🥺💕 you learned about poisons for me #and reader's like uhm sure (no i did it to protect myself)#twstnexus #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst imagines #twisted wonderland floyd #floyd leech #floyd leech x reader

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leaderwon · 2 months

Text

come back i still need you

paring : nonidol!jungwon x reader

warnings : character death, ANGST left and right, mentions of being depressed

word count : 1.5k

luna's diary : kinda shed a tear writing this

IT HAD BEEN, 3 weeks and 6 days, since you left him.

He was stuck in the endless loop of the 4th stage of grief. Depression, and was left wondering if he'll ever move forward to the next stage and accept your death.

Oh how cruel the world was. Taking away his lover and the plans for the future you guys had carefully planned.

You guys were walking on the street on the day it happened. Giggles filling the both of your bodies as a silver band of ring with a small diamond shined on your ring finger. He had just proposed to you, with promises of giving you everything he had to offer, of staying by your side until his last breath, to grow up even more and have little yous running around. Maybe you could get a dog and a cat and live in a beautiful home.

And then it happened.

He still remembers the way you shoved him to the side as a car came speeding towards you. Your yells still ringing in his ears from the past 3 weeks.

He remembers slowly walking to you trying to take in what just happened. In the corner of his eye he could see the once silver, shiny ring now covered in blood. Your blood. It was everywhere. He felt sick to his stomach. He cradled your face as he broke into sobs. "No no this can't be happening baby wake up" He called out for you as his sobs turned into a breakdown. He saw the light in your eyes slowly disappear. He saw the love of his life leave him, even though you were right there.

2 days later, it was your funeral. As everyone showed him sympathy and gave him hugs. He was still in denial. The first stage of grief. He couldn't even count the amount of times he heard "let me know if you need anything, Jungwon". He needed you back in his arms, but none of the people could give him that. There's no way you could have just left, right? What about the promises? The home? The dog and the cat? mini yous?

Few days later, he slowly slipped into the second stage of grief. Anger. He was mad at no one but himself. He should have been the one to die, not an angel like you. The car should have hit him. Not you. Or maybe he was mad at you too? why would you sacrifice yourself and leave him alone?

Then came in the third stage of grief. Bargain. He prayed and prayed that this would be a long painful nightmare. No way the world could have been so cruel on him. He was just 20 wanting to see life with you by his side, there's no way his fate was written like this.

After realising that this wasn't a dream, and you really were gone, entered the 4th stage of grief. Depression. He was an empty void as he laid on his bed all day leaving all his friends worried. He only got up to eat, which was very rare by the way. Leaving the texts his friends sent him on delivered, he read the last conversation you had with him. Where he mentioned the date and that he had a surprise for you and your excited text messages as a small smile crept on his lips. How he wished he never took you out.

Come back. He still needs you.

It was a new day as the sun shone through Jungwon's curtains. Today, was your one month anniversary, of you getting engaged and also since you left. Today was the worst of all days. It had been a month? no way. "i wish i could turn back time and change everything" he mumbled.

"Time" he jolted up as he remembered something you said about turning back time. Hope rushed through his eyes as he swiftly got out of his bad and rushed to take a shower and get ready. He could not believe he did not think of this sooner. Getting dressed, he rushed out of his home. Coming back taking the ring you once wore in his hands and heading to his car.

"I'm going to get you back, my love"

20 minutes later he reached your apartment. He did not have the courage to step into your apartment after your death. Opening the door he smelled your familiar scent for the first time in a month. Not wanting to waste time, he got in and rummaged through your belongings. "Where is it, god damn".

Finally spotting the shiny wooden box. He picked it up seeing a necklace with a tiny clock in it. Wearing it, he saw as it started to glow.

"How may I help you today?" a voice spoke out as he looked at a beautiful woman in front of him.

"Who must you be? you're not one of them" The voice continued referring to your blood line. "I'm Yang Jungwon, I lost my lover in a car accident, exactly a month ago from now"

"You wish to bring her back?" The voice questioned him. "Yes I need to please. She mentioned about this pendent to me a while back. You need to help me" He replied begging. "Jungwon, I'd suggest you move on. You'll lose yourself if anything goes downhill, and there are less number of chances of it going good and it going bad." The female figure said showing sympathy. "Please, miss. I don't have anything to lose anymore, she was my everything" He said breaking down into a sob.

Sighing, she touched the pendent on his colar. "What time do you want to go to?" she asked giving in. "Exactly a month ago" He said as the necklace started to glow again. "Goodluck, Jungwon" she said.

He was going to make sure you were alive. But at what cost?

In a blink of an eye, he was back. On the street, with you. "I honestly didn't expect you to do it today" Your voice said. Oh how he missed your voice, to see your face in front of him again and to hold his hand. He suddenly remembered why he was here as he became hyper-aware of his surroundings. He knew the car would be coming your way any second. Before he could think of changing your position, it was too late. The car was already coming towards you at an increasing pace. There was no way he could save the both of you.

So he did what he initially came back for.

He saved you.

Shoving your body to the side, he felt the car hit him as he lost consciousness. The last thing he saw was you standing and looking at him in utter shock. Atleast you were safe and alive.

"Jungwon? baby hey, wake up" you cradled his face and broke down into sobs, the same way he did, in another time line. You left a peck on his forehead as you left him there rushing to your apartment.

I'm not going to lose you Jungwon. Not like this.

You rummaged through your belongings, the same way he did. Wearing the pendent, you wished to go back 20 minutes from your present.

You were back with him, on the same street, holding his hand as you listened to him talk to you. You knew the time was near as you walked faster looking for a turn that could divert you form the path in which it was about to happen. Before you could find something, you heard the car's tire screech behind you. There was no way you could save the both of you.

So you did what you initially came for.

You saved him.

You shoved him to the side as the car came in contact with your body. The last thing you saw, was him. Atleast he was safe and alive.

He slowly walked to you trying to take in what just happened. In the corner of his eye he could see the once silver, shiny ring now covered in blood. Your blood. It was everywhere. He felt sick to his stomach. He cradled your face as he broke into sobs. "No no this can't be happening baby wake up" He called out for you as his sobs turned into a breakdown. He saw the light in your eyes slowly disappear. He saw the love of his life leave him, even though you were right there.

Fast forward to him wishing of going back to a month prior to save you. He managed to save you, but lost his life. Not being able to manage with the grief of him gone, you tried to save him. You managed to do so, but you lost yours in exchange. And this continued.

The woman was right afterall when she warned the two you.

Trying to save eachother, the both of you were stuck and lost yourselves in an endless time loop.

@leaderwon 2024. Do not copy, translate,alter or plagarize in any platform.

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radioisntdead · 16 days

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AHAHHAHAHSHSHHD I HAVE A REQUESTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT IF YOU DON'T MIND BUT CAN YOU DO A HUSBAND ALASTOR X CRYBABY READER

Good evening my dear! Indeed I can!

I'm on a songfic fix at the moment so hopefully you don't mind me turning this into one, if you do just let me know and I can write a proper oneshot, drabble or headcanons

Crybaby

Warnings:

Murder, Alastor being weird, mild angst, OOC, the ending is a bit muddled because lack of motivation hit me like a TRUCK.

The song I chose for obvious reasons

You seem to replace your brain with your heart, You take things so hard and then you fall apart

You always had what one would call a bleeding heart, tears would overflow at the slightest instance, you fell onto the ground? Tears, you saw a rabbit munching on a carrot? Tears fell because it was just SO cute, you sobbed as you stabbed a guy to death, blubbering out apologies saying you wouldn't have to do it if he had JUST kept his mouth shut and didn't say those awful, awful things.

You try to explain, but before you can start

You met Alastor when the two of you were alive, he was an aspiring radio host at the time and well, your father ran a rather popular radio station.

Those "Cry baby" tears come out of the dark

You were considered the favorite child, (or the only child depending on the route you go) and Alastor knew that, he wasn't above using people to climb up the social ladder.

Someone's turning the handle to that faucet in your eyes

Everything was planned out, like how the two of you met, he found out what places you frequented, choosing a cafe to be the place to run into you.

You had accidentally poured warm coffee on his clothes, you cried out apologies as you patted him dry with napkins, offering to pay for drycleaning.

You pour it out where everyone can see

And that was it, it started with him charming you, asking you out for coffee, lunch, dinners and eventually he had you hooked.

Your heart's too big for your body, it's why it won't fit inside

Him eventually catching feelings for you was just the icing on the cake, a bonus, you and him felt similarly to certain affections.

His mother quite liked you as well asking him to bring you by again when you met her the first time.

You pour it out where everyone can see

As the relationship grew, he became a prominent radio personality, eventually proposing to you leading to marriage.

They call you cry baby, cry baby

Alastor was supposed to be working late that night, you weren't expecting him to come home as you washed the blood off of your hands, blood stained the bathroom sink, dried tears leaving faint streaks on your face.

But you don't fucking care

"Mon étoile?"

You slowly turned around as if you were in a horror movie, the one person you didn't want to see you like this.

Cry baby, cry baby

You burst into tears falling onto the ground, not even trying to explain yourself, Alastor grinned and moved next to you, gently wiping away your tears taking silent joy from them.

So you laugh through your tears

You laughed as Alastor gave a light smooch onto your face.

Cry baby, cry baby

And that begun a new era of your relationship,

You'd act as bait luring in the folks you and Alastor felt like taking away their living privileges.

'Cause you don't fucking care

You lived like that for years, taking many lives, shedding many tears, a killer couple.

Tears fall to the ground

Unfortunately all good things come to an end.

You'll just let them drown

Alastor went to dispose of a body while you cleaned up the aftermath.

You'll just let them drown

The police showing up and breaking the news to you that your dearest Alastor was shot in the head and attacked by dogs shattered you.

Cry baby, cry baby

You spent your days crying, barely being able to organize a funeral that no one other then you attended, after all who would attend the funeral of a murderer.

You're all on your own and you lost all your friends

You were alone now, sure your family urged you to move back home, you were still a sweetheart with a bleeding heart to them, you just fell for Alastor's schemes, that no one saw coming.

You spent your days crying, clinging on to any remnants of Alastor, your social life took a huge hit.

You told yourself that it's not you, it's them

They whispered behind your back, theorizing if you were apart of the murders or not, if you knew, if you were truly innocent.

You're one of a kind and no one understands

You were found dead in your home, alone.

But those "Cry baby" tears keep coming back again

You woke up in hell, you knew you probably weren't going to heaven but still!

Someone's turning the handle to that faucet in your eyes

Tears swelled up in your eyes but you wiped them away before they could fall deciding to look around and assess your situation.

You pour it out where everyone can see

Wandering around you passed by a shop with a radio present in it, reminding you of your dear Alastor.

Your heart's too big for your body, it's why it won't fit inside

The tears started pouring, and before you could do anything else, someone touches your shoulder.

You pour it out where everyone can see

You've been down below for who knew how long now, bring found by Mimzy of all people, a good friend of yours, and Alastor's.

They call you cry baby, cry baby

Mimzy showed up at Alastor's home banging on the front door, you stood a few feet away from her, He opened it displeased at the sudden visit but he smiled wide nonetheless.

"Mimzy dear, pray tell why you are banging on my door at this unholy hour?" He asked, simply hearing his voice the waterworks began as Mimzy pulled you out from where you stood.

But you don't fucking care

Alastor's eyes ever so slightly widened, it hadn't been that long since he died, he suspected you would follow suit eventually but not this quickly.

Cry baby, cry baby

"I believe this one is yours, they've been crying on and off, it's driving me crazy" Mimzy said shoving you into Alastor as you grinned up at him through blurry eyes

So you laugh through your tears

"I missed you." You said as Alastor touched your face, brushing a claw over it, you, much like him and every other sinner looked different from when you were alive, you had permanent gold tear streaks stitched into your face, how ironic.

Cry baby, cry baby

Alastor simply grinned, wiping away a tear.

"You haven't changed a bit, Mon étoile."

'Cause you don't fucking care

"You can pay me back for reunitin' ya lovebirds later!"

Mimzy laughed before running off to do who knows what, making a swift exit for plot convenience.

Tears fall to the ground

And that was that, you were finally reunited.

You'll just let them drown

While Alastor was given the name of The Radio demon you were referred to as the Crying demon,

How original.

Cry baby, cry baby

While Alastor stuck fear with a smile, hearing you wail in the distance stuck fear into others, you'd apologize as you ripped sinners apart just like you did in life.

You'll just let them drown

You watched as Alastor developed a cannibalistic taste for sinners, he opted to bring you sinner hearts as a token of affection,

You teared up from how sweet the extremely messed up act was.

Cry baby, cry baby

You also watched as Alastor's personal hygiene got worse, to the point where you'd chase him down with a sponge and a bucket of water, or before bed with a toothbrush and some toothpaste.

Much to his chagrin he was never able to escape you chasing him.

You'll just let them drown

Alastor's more sadistic tendencies were revealed in full force, with him biting and pinching your cheeks just hard enough to make you cry.

It wasn't a deal breaker but it did weird you out at first.

I look at you and I see myself

Alastor brought you to the Hazbin hotel after Husk and Niffty were pulled from wherever,

You quickly gained an affection for the hotel and it's residents, Alastor may have been using the hotel for his own entertainment but you genuinely believed in Charlie's dream of redeeming sinners.

And I know you better than anyone else

Becoming another parental figure for the princess you showered her with advice and familial affection, saying if you had a child you'd want them to be just like her.

And I have the same faucet in my eyes

Vaggie wasn't spared from the parental affection either, Alastor might not have been fond of her but you were.

So your tears are mine

You eventually became like the hotels therapist, a very prone to crying therapist but a therapist none the less.

You and Charlie tended to cry together especially if the two of you decided to put a emotionally charged movie on for movie nights

They call me cry baby, cry baby

You cried when extermination day happened, taking out exorcists left and right, your tears were filled with anger as you witnessed what happened to Sir Pentious.

But I don't fucking care

You cried tears of joy when the hotel was rebuilt and when Alastor came back from wherever he was.

Cry baby, cry baby

"You are an complete and utter MORON,"

"Mon étoile, W̴̝̖͙̩̹̓͆̏͌̒̔̑͐̕h̶͔̲̄ă̵̟̥͙̥͖͚̋̍̓̓̇̕ţ̶̧͇̞̟͈͔͉̦͋̄͂̌́̉͗ ̸̛̟̖̰͛͐̂̌̃d̷͎͍̦̩̯̂̐̈́̒̇͜ͅï̷̙͎͙̱̲̾̓̓̂d̵̛̛̲̤̺̟͒̈́̽́̑̈́̈͜͠ ̴̬̥̱͓̊̒͛ȳ̶̢̢̛̛̘͓̱̱̭̩̣͈̈́̀͋͘͝ő̴͓̜̥̪͇͙͉̞̜ủ̴̢̖͙̞͈̳̈́̑̋̂̉̈ ̵̩̈́̋̂̾̓̎̌̕̚j̶̛̗̲͚͖̼̻̥͕̚ù̸̫̯̎s̷̛̹̠̠̰͇̬̟̤͖̃̋͋ť̵͇̹͕̞͌ ̵̢̹͖̯͆̀̽́̎̐̐̽̆̃c̴͍̼̤̓̉̃̒̕͠a̶͖̙̭͂͋̓l̸̢̧̨͙̯̹̯̱̳̏̈́̀l̷̡͖͉̟̼̳̹͙̏́̄̃͋ͅ ̶̧͓͍͑m̶̨̡̠̖͇̫͓̅̈́-̷̞̱̪͓̞̅̈́͊̇̎̐͝"

"Don't pull that radio demon bullshit with me right now Alastor! How hard was it to arm yourself? You aren't invincible to ANGELIC WEAPONS!"

You shouted at Alastor as you paced around your newly restored shared room, first aid kit open, bandages wrapped around, angry tears in your eyes.

If you were anyone else, you would be dead for rubbing salt into the still aching wound.

Alastor sighed and swung one leg over the other, crossing his arms intending to wait until your 'temper tantrum' was over.

I laugh through my tears

Normally he rather liked your tears, in a Alastor way, but they were annoying to him in this instance.

Cry baby, cry baby

You grabbed his face, locking your eyes with his,

"You could've died, You would've left me again."

"Dearest,"

"Al,"

"I won't leave you again."

"Promise?"

You asked dropping your hands from his face only for him to hold them in his hands.

"Promise."

'Cause I don't fucking care, Tears fall to the ground

With the hotel rebuilt, bigger, more grand then before, sinners began to trickle in.

Wanting to give redemption a shot,

Some wanted to see someone they knew that more then likely ended up going above, some had nothing left to lose, some just wanted to change, hating what they've become since they fell below.

I just let them drown, Cry baby, cry baby

You quite liked how things were developing, seeing Charlie's face light up when hotel residents improved, getting clean from addiction, proving to be better.

I just let them drown, Cry baby, cry baby

Alastor originally got involved in this place for his own entertainment or otherwise, bringing you with him, he didn't think that his darling crybaby of a wife would get attached.

But maybe he was getting attached too, not that he would ever admit it even to you.

You'll just let them drown, They call you cry baby, cry baby

You and Alastor sat comfortably on the couch in his radio tower, with you laying on his shoulder, his arm gingerly wrapped around you.

I just let them drown

"Al, look how cute they are!"

You said as you held your phone to Alastor, you had to remove a few qualities in order to keep the phone, you didn't mind since you mostly used it to communicate with the hotel residents or look at animal videos on the Internet anyways.

He simply hummed as he grimaced at the phone, you were trying to show him a group of hellborn kittens,

"We should get a cat,"

"We already have a cat."

"Husk doesn't count."

You said frowning as Alastor moved his hand to your cheek, pinching it until tears swelled up in your eyes.

Cry baby, cry baby

You were sobbing at the red creature you held in your arms,

"It's adorable!" You sobbed out holding the catlike creature that you found on the side of the road much to Alastor's displeasure you wanted a cat, and you got a cat thingy

"It looks like Alastor."

"Exactly!"

Alastor squinted at the cat thing you were crying with pride over, he would throw the damned thing out the window but unfortunately you were already attached, and he preferred you to cry over literally anything else other then the failed clone of his.

You'll just let them drown

Good evening folks! Thanks for tuning in! I scheduled this for Saturday so that should mean this is the last of the songfics! [For now anyways] [post-post edit, I LIED THERE WILL BE MORE SONG FICS THIS IS ONLY THE BEGINNING]

I wanted to go more into how Alastor would probably enjoy the readers crying but it got a little too weird.

Have a wonderful weekend folks!

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x you #alastor x reader #alastor x you #alastor imagine

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heeseung-min · 1 month

Text

[21:14]

You eyes started to blink when you heard screaming nearby. It's not one. It's like a bunch of girls screaming for help. Slowly, you finally gained consciousness and looked at your surrounding. You realized you were in a basement. Few metres in front of you there was a big cage that can fit few people in there and you recognized every single one in there.

"Y/n, you wake up? HELP US! Someone has abducted all of us and you!

Dami, one of the girls yelled to you. You looked at yourself who were on bed that is perfectly fine and in comfortable clothes while all of them looked miserable. You wondered what makes the treatment towards you and them are different.

"YAH!! WE TOLD YOU TO HELP US OUT!! ARE YOU DEAF, BITCH--"

Everyone and you gasped when the girl who were shouting just now got shot straight to her head. The girls were screaming freaking out when they saw one of their friends die. You turned to the left where the man who shot the girl just now put down his shotgun.

"Damn it, yall can't even shut your mouth for a minute?"

It was Jay. Your classmate.

The girls went silent and sobbing quietly because they don't want to get shoot by him. Jay turned himself to you and started to walk closer.

"How do you feel? Do you want to eat something?"

He asked as he caressed your hair gently. It's like two different people. Just now you saw Jay shot someone and now he was being gentle and soft to you. But you can't deny the scene traumatized you too. Your hands were shaking when he leaned closer.

"Stop....stop it."

"What? What do you mean, sweet?"

"Let ...us go. Why are you doing this, Jay?"

Jay stopped caressing your head and chuckled when you asked him that.

"I did it for you, Y/n. Don't you like it? I made your bullies suffered. They don't deserve to live after what they had done."

You looked at the tray that was moving to the girls. Your eyes widened at the sight of hot wax getting closer to them. Jay watched the scene with wide smile on his face.

"Stop it."

"Why? I know you like it too, Y/n."

"I said stop it, Jay!!!"

He pushed the button to stop the tray from falling to the girls. Jay sighed and looked at you.

"Don't pretend, baby. I know you are happy to see people you hate suffering. Just like what you did to your father."

It's like Jay just dropped a bomb on you. Your hands became shakier after he said that.

_________

"Why I have a daughter when I can have a son. Raising a daughter bring so much burden."

That's what your dad always said every single day. He never teaches you anything but will ask you for many favors. If you refuse, you will heard he complain about it later.

"I can't believe your mother would ask me to keep you alive. Bitch, the doctor should make you die instead. At least if your mother was alive, we can still try for a boy."

Your last straw was when you cooked dinner for him.

"Feed this to a dog. I don't want to eat anything from you."

You watched he throw the food you cooked to the floor. After that, he went to the living room and watched his favourite show. You listened to his laugh while cleaning up the floor. You waited until he fell asleep and rolled your eyes when you heard his loud snoring.

"You wanted to meet mom so bad. Maybe I should do a favor for you."

__________

"And I remember how you cried in front of those people when they said your father died due to carbon monoxide poisoning. Your acting was really impressive."

Your fists clenched while listening to what Jay said.

"But they didn't see you from the side. Your lips were smirking when your dad is finally dead."

"Shut the fuck up."

"Most people feel bad for you but I watched how you laugh after all of them left the funeral."

"I SAID SHUT THE FUCK UP!!"

Jay finally stopped talking and stared at your fuming expression. He looked so proud when telling about it. You made sure that no one find out about this.

"All I want is you to stop pretending, Y/N. You cannot lie to me. I know everything about you."

You sighed and tried to relax your body. After few seconds, you opened your eyes and Jay smirked when he saw your eyes changed. It is similar to what he saw when your father died.

"Give me a gun. I want to practice shooting."

The girls started to screaming and begging to you to not let them die.

"Let's play a game, okay? Try to avoid being shot as long as you can."

You said and started to fire the gun while Jay watched you admiringly.

💀💀💀well i hope it come out well, having writer block is no joke...i hope you guys still remember me🙁and hope you guys enjoy this as well.

Taglist: @stacey-stonem @huggyuvita @duolingofanaccount @obsessed1with1straykids @rowretro @eeunoia

#yandere kpop #yandere enhypen #kpop yandere #enha x reader #lee heeseung #park jongseong #park sunghoon #jake sim #kim sunoo #yang jungwon #nishimura riki #yandere enha #yandere drabble #yandere jay #enhypen jay #enha scenarios #yandere

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toournextadventure · 1 year

Text

everyone but her pt.20

Summary: Grief comes in many different forms and stages. You're stuck on anger, and Wednesday accompanies you to the funeral. But she says something wrong, with the best of intentions, and you end up doing something that will change your family dynamic for the worse.

Word Count: 7.7k Warnings: grief, child abuse, self neglect (not eating, recklessness, not taking care of self, excessive drinking), extreme anger, flashbacks (mentions of car accident, injuries, illusions to criminal activity), swearing, violence, smoking Pairing: Wednesday Addams x Reader (everyone but her Masterlist) Taglist: @extinctspino @basichextechml @cfvgbhndun-new-blog @jinxscatbomb @awolfcsworld @suzhiman @gengen64 @eclipsesmoonshine14 @alexkolax @thenextdawn @cacciatricediartemide @cozwaenot @the-night-owl-blr @natashasapphic @parkersmyth @alilbitlesbian @irish-piece-of-trash @rainbow-love4ever @audigay @bakugounuggets @myfturn @rockwyn @bigbadsofty07 @andsoigotabutterfly @captainbeat @smromanoff

Everyone says grief comes in five stages; denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance. But you disagree. It’s not five stages, it’s one. Only one stage that washes over you like a wave and holds you under until you’re drowning. You’re drowning and watching everyone on the surface live their lives as if you aren’t just right underneath them, choking on the salty sea water as you scream for help.

It’s only one stage; agony.

The house was bigger than you remembered when you got home far too early in the morning. The barristers were cleaner, the kitchen was far more pristine, and it was quiet. It was far too quiet, and your hands started to go clammy at the revelation. There wasn’t even any comfort in the ticking of the grandfather clock in the foyer. Tick-tocks burned themselves into your brain until it was stabbing into your head like a knife.

You started humming a tuneless song. It eased the pain slightly.

"Don't hum, dear," your mother said as she took her gloves off and handed them to your maid and previous nanny, Mabel. "It's childish."

Your humming died off and the silence came back.

"Mabel will show you to your room,” your father said, resting his hand on your shoulder and giving it a comforting squeeze. For a moment, things almost seemed okay. “We will mourn tomorrow, then start the preparations.”

And just like that everything came crashing down once again. Paired perfectly with the migraine that still refused to settle.

“Oh, Y/N,” your father called out before you managed to get more than three steps up.

You turned around slowly, each joint still aching from the fall earlier in the night. Was it that same night? It felt so long ago. Nothing felt like you had been on a carnival date earlier in the night, that you had been having fun with Wednesday and the gang less than eight hours ago. Or was it longer than that? Did it even matter anymore?

“Your principal wanted you to have your phone back,” he continued when you stayed silent. He smiled softly down at the phone in his hands before looking up and handing it back. “Your conversations are a bit concerning,” he said when your fingers brushed his to take it back. “I installed a program to track your activity.” You blinked once. “For your well-being.”

For my well-being. Right. Of course.

“You have a few unread messages,” your father called after you as you turned to walk back up the stairs. “You should let them know everything is alright.”

Be angry, a voice in the back of your head growled when Mabel continued to guide you through the now-unfamiliar corridors. It was a familiar voice, one that hadn’t reared its head in months, but you couldn’t quite place it. He went through your phone, so you need to get angry. No. No, you wouldn’t get angry. Why not? Your jaw clenched painfully. Nicky wouldn’t have gotten angry.

“Y/N.”

You stopped in the doorway of the room - your room - and looked sideways at Mabel. She looked older, more worn. Maybe it was just from working for your parents for so long. How was her son? Had he graduated college yet? He had wanted to be an engineer, if you remembered right. Why did she look so sad?

“I am truly sorry,” she said softly. “I cannot imagine your grief.”

No. No, she couldn’t imagine your grief. She couldn’t imagine what it was like to see him not even a week earlier, alive, and not knowing it would be the last time you saw him. She couldn’t fucking imagine what it was like and no one could fucking imagine what it was like.

The migraine throbbed again and you squeezed your eyes shut to try and ease it.

“The headaches will stop in time,” she said. Your eyes flew open. “They always have.”

“What?”

Mabel tilted her head and a crinkle formed between her eyes.

“Your headaches,” she said, her finger lifting to tap lightly against your left temple. “They always got worse when Nicky stopped suppressing.”

“Suppressing?”

Her sorrowful smile slipped into a frown.

"Yes," she said softly, "don't you remember?"

No.

"Well, I suppose that would defeat the point," she chuckled lightly. "He could suppress memories," she explained softly, gently, agonisingly. "He always chose the bad ones, of course."

No.

"I myself got a slight headache when he passed."

No.

"It's how I knew he was truly gone."

No!

"Y/N?"

You shoved past Mabel, forcing her back into the hall. The stairs passed under you four at a time until you were on the ground floor.

"Darling?-"

"-Where are you going?-"

"-It's 4 in the morning-"

"-Get back in the house."

Your parents' calls fell on deaf ears as you threw the front door open and stormed outside. Your feet picked up speed as you walked down the endless driveway. The moment they hit the pavement you broke out into a jog, then a sprint. Your shoes hit the pavement of the road in a steady rhythm.

"You really wanna know?" Nicky asked after taking another one of your chess pieces.

"You promised you would tell me," you said with a frown.

"How about I make it your graduation present," he teased. "Give you something to look forward to."

"Deal," you said with a smile. He knocked your king off the board.

The excessively large houses blurred as you ran down the street. Motion lights turned on and guard dogs barked when you passed by.

"That was the year they left us to fend for ourselves for the week," Nicky laughed with Yoko.

"I don't remember that," you said with a slight frown.

"You were, uh, too young," Nicky said with a smile and a pat on your back. "Not worth remembering anyway."

The houses thinned and were quickly replaced with trees. Your feet stumbled as pavement turned into dirt. Icy air froze your tired lungs, leaving a sensation of needles in your chest.

You pushed your feet faster.

"Nicky, I'm tired," you whined after tripping over your own feet again.

"Just a few more hours," he said. His shirt had finally dried and looked stiff. “Then we’ll be back at Nevermore.”

"You said that a few hours ago," you complained. "My skin is itchy."

"We'll wash it off later," he said. He wasn't even looking at you.

"Are they gonna find us?" You asked as you did a little jog to catch up to him and hold his hand.

"No," he said without hesitation. The dried blood was starting to flake off his forehead. The cut on his nose looked angry.

"Is this gonna give me bad dreams?" You asked in a small voice. He stopped in his tracks and picked you up, letting you crawl onto his back.

"Of course not," he said softly. "You won't even remember it."

The forest flew by. Each twig and branch that whipped across your face made you feel more and more alive. It was a feeling, and you needed a feeling. Anything, everything, whatever you could get.

Everything hurt. Oh god, it hurt so bad and you couldn’t scream.

“Hang on, kid, we’ve gotta get the door.”

“Where’s Nicky?” You asked. Your tongue felt heavy, like lead.

“Gotta get you first,” a man’s voice said. “Stay still.”

“Nicky?” You slurred; the words tasted of copper.

Your eyes fell to the top of the car that was now underneath you. It was covered in something shiny. Something red.

Your lungs couldn’t take it anymore. They couldn’t take the cold, couldn’t take the exertion, the stress, none of it. And it felt. You could feel them. The more you ran, the more it hurt and soon you could focus on the pain in your side instead of the pain in your head.

Memory suppression.

There was no thought about stopping, your feet just slowed their movements until you collapsed to your knees on the cold, damp forest floor. You felt the end of a stick dig into your hand, splitting the skin. The blood was warm; it was comforting. Each gasping breath felt like you were inhaling shards of glass, each one more painful than the last.

And it felt.

“I feel angry,” you said as you sat at the top of the wall and watched Nicky continue to climb.

“You always feel angry,” he grunted. He was stuck. As usual.

“I don’t know why,” you sighed. “I can’t think of anything that would make me angry.”

“It’ll go away,” he said as his face finally pulled up and you could look him in the eyes. “Good kids don’t stay angry.”

“Am I a good kid?” You asked softly. He smiled.

“The best.”

You let out the most feral, unhinged, excruciating scream you could possibly produce. It hurt your throat and left it feeling raw.

But it felt.

The sun had started to rise before you could get up from your position on the ground. Your knees were stiff and soaked to the bone and the stick in your hand had broken off. It would leave a splinter that would need to be dug out. There was a lingering ache in your throat and lungs and that migraine still wouldn’t go away. And when you started walking mindlessly back to the house, you could feel blisters on your feet and heels; a few of them even popped.

But at least it felt.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?-”

“-We were about to call the police-”

“-You look like a stray dog-”

“-We just cleaned the entry-”

“-Where do you think you’re going?”

You couldn’t recall getting home. But you continued walking through the house as your parents called after you, practically dragging yourself up the stairs until you made it into your room. The door fell shut and the lock clicked into place and all you could do was fall back to your knees.

The cold wooden floor didn’t feel so bad. At least it felt.

—---

You wished you were numb again.

The day of mourning came and went, each second testing your patience and wearing you thin. You hadn’t slept, hadn’t showered, hadn’t even gotten up from your spot on the floor. You could hear your phone vibrating on the wood, almost loud enough to wake the dead. Maybe it would wake Nicky, you thought before finally checking it to make it stop.

Not even noon and you had 17 missed calls, 72 texts, and a plethora of messages from the vast array of other social media outlets. A large number were from Yoko, then Ajax, the rest of the group, and your family back home. Two or three calls from Momma Weems and your family. But your eyes started to sting when you saw the name for two messages.

Nicky.

You clicked on them immediately, desperately hoping to see what he had said. Something in the back of your head was screaming at you not to open them, not to get your hopes up. Your eyes trailed over the messages, reading them once, twice, three times before it finally clicked.

It wasn’t Nicky.

You had given Wednesday his phone.

You hadn’t ever changed the name.

Nicky: Thing wishes to know if you’ve made it back safe.

Nicky: I wish to know as well.

Fuck. Now you were making Wednesday feel things too? Why would she even care anyway. It wasn’t like she loved you anyway, wasn’t like she even really cared. You knew she didn’t do love, she had said it to her mother time and time again. Why would she care if you were safe.

Didn’t she know Nicky was the one who needed the attention?

You growled at nothing in particular before throwing your phone across the room, hearing the screen shatter when it hit the wall. The sound made you flinch and you instantly felt that guilty feeling deep in the pit of your stomach. It vibrated again.

You didn’t check it.

—---

“You need to eat something before you go,” Mabel urged you once again as you finished buttoning up your shirt.

“‘m not hungry,” you mumbled. Your fingers faltered on the buttons; it wasn’t fitting like it was supposed to.

“You haven’t eaten in five days,” she said in a far softer voice. It was humiliating.

“Too busy planning,” you said, finally deciding to give up and instead throwing a jacket over the crooked, too-big shirt. “I’ll eat when I’m dead.”

“That’s not funny.”

“I’m not laughing.”

You moved past Mabel and went down the stairs to meet up with your parents. It was the day to finalise plans; something that you knew was going to cause argument after argument. There had already been too many screaming matches the past few days, none of which ever came to a definitive conclusion.

Maybe today would be different.

“That jacket is unprofessional,” your mother said with a slight frown.

“The shirt doesn’t fit,” you said without looking up at her. Your fingers toyed with the shattered phone in your pocket.

“We will have it tailored,” your mother sighed, “again.”

“We will discuss it later,” your father said as he ushered everyone to the car. “We need to get going so we won’t be late.”

You sat in the back with the both of them while Jenkins started the drive to the funeral home. With a thunk, your head hit the window and you looked out at the houses passing by. The harness was pulled painfully tight and your wings were already stiff, but you didn’t care. At least it felt, right?

The phone in your pocket vibrated, and you pulled it out slowly to look at the two new messages.

Yoko: You don’t have to answer me, but answer Wednesday. She’s losing her mind

Ash: just saw your pop in town. told me about nicky. im so sorry

You exhaled through your nose and slid the phone back into your pocket without answering. There was no time to answer anyone anyway, you had planning to do. Although you shouldn’t be, he was still the source of the migraine that refused to go away.

Memory suppression. Just the thought made you sick and your mouth feel like you had swallowed cotton. How could he do that? How could he just hide your memories from you? Your own memories. He had no fucking right, those were your memories, not his.

“We’re here.”

You pulled your head back from the window and blinked a few times, doing your best to hide the anger. As you uncurled your fists, you could feel your nails pulling out of the skin; you had left four perfect crescent shaped cuts on your palms. Thankfully your pants were black, and you wiped the slightest bit of blood off on the legs.

The next thing you remember is sitting in one of the chairs across from the funeral director. You couldn’t recall getting out of the car, or introducing yourself. Hopefully you had done well or you would get an earful once you left.

“Today you will select the casket and can order the headstone,” the funeral director said as he slid over a bunch of paper.

“Casket?” You asked, turning your head to look at your parents. “We never agreed on burial.”

“Your mother and I have made the executive decision,” your father said with a smile.

“Then make a different one,” you said with a slightly raised voice.

“I’ll give you three a moment,” the funeral director said with a professional smile. Everyone stayed silent as he grabbed a few things and left, shutting the door behind him.

“Do not question our decisions in front of strangers,” your father said, his polite smile falling immediately.

“He didn’t want to be buried,” you said. Your chest felt tight, like it was caught in vice grips.

“He shall be buried with the other Smiths,” your mother said while you chuckled humourlessly. You pushed your chair back and stood up, walking to the other side of the table and pacing.

“He said he didn’t want to be buried,” you argued; the migraine was back. “Said it creeped him out and he would rather be cremated.”

“We never heard him say such a thing,” your mother said with a sigh.

“Maybe because you were never there,” you scoffed before freezing in your tracks.

Instantly the atmosphere in the room changed from uneasiness to aggression. You could feel the hair on the back of your neck and arms stand up and your breath caught in your throat as you squeezed your eyes shut.

“I beg your pardon?”

Fuck.

“I’m sorry-”

“-We were never there?” Your father asked, louder this time.

You could hear the chair scrape against the floor and you turned your body to face him. He looked furious and the migraine came back stronger than before. Almost like someone was pushing glass into each individual fold of your brain. You could feel your palms getting sweaty.

Fight back, the voice in your head said. He abandoned us. Fight. Back.

“You weren’t there,” you said with a shaky voice. Be confident. “You left us and didn’t come back.”

“Did you ever stop to ask yourself why we would even consider doing such a thing?” Your father asked.

“Let’s focus on the burial,” your mother cut in, “we can talk about this later.”

“It’s because you produced two freak kids,” you said, your voice stronger, more confident. Your father walked around the table to come closer. Keep fighting. “Could you imagine if that got out?” He looked furious. “If anyone discovered that the high and mighty Smith family had two Outcast kids that they hid away-”

-your head jerked to the right as the slap echoed in the otherwise silent room. Keep it together, you thought as your lower lip started to quiver. You held back the stinging in your eyes as you stood up taller and turned back around to face him. It was times like this where you wished you were smaller so you couldn’t look him in the eye.

“You will never say such a thing again,” he said as he jabbed a finger into your chest. “Do I make myself clear?”

Hit him back.

“Crystal,” you whispered through clenched teeth.

“He will be buried,” your father said with another jab. “That’s final.”

You could feel the persistent stinging of your cheek as you all sat down and the funeral director came back in. He didn’t comment. You didn’t prompt him to.

—---

Mabel had worked for the Smith family for 23 years, she knew when to hold her tongue. But when you all came back from the funeral home and she saw the new blooming bruise on your cheek, she felt a mix of anger and pity. She wouldn’t pretend you were the best at holding your tongue; you never had been. But your father also allowed you to push his buttons until he snapped.

She didn’t have to ask to know that was exactly what happened.

The days leading up to the funeral reminded her an awful lot of when you were younger, with the obvious differences. You were still reckless, almost even careless. Accidentally breaking things, roaming around the house without direction, doing anything and everything your heart desired without seeking permission or forgiveness.

There were times when she would be cleaning and would hear the sound of the grand piano lingering in the air, and she would sneak around the corner to watch you. Back ramrod straight, slender fingers poised perfectly over the keys, face completely neutral as you read the music on the stand. It was beautiful to hear you play again, and the occasional jazz tune that would sound when you were certain your mother wasn’t around was all the more enjoyable because of the slightest smile on your face.

Other times Mabel would catch you leaving the house without warning, not coming back until late in the night with dazed eyes and dried tear tracks on your cheeks. Those were the nights she would gently take you by the shoulders and guide you back up to your room. You did nothing to assist her as she cleaned you up and dressed you in something comfortable so she could put you to bed.

She did her best to ignore each and every new bruise or scratch or scar.

It was impossible to get you to eat. You dropped weight faster than she could keep track of, and no matter how many meals she left in your room, they always went untouched. She tried to keep small snacks like protein bars in your room in the hopes that you would eat them, but she had no way to tell if you did or not.

On evenings where guests would come over and you would be “encouraged” to socialise, she took note of the amount of drinks you would have each evening. It was always far too many, and she and Jenkins would end up carrying you back up to your bed before everyone had left for the night. You would always accept your scolding with a grimace and two Tylenol the next morning and go about your day.

You would pick fights with your parents. Never over anything important, always little things and they were starting to pick up on that as well. At first they had fought back, getting into screaming matches with you and sending you off to your room. But then you tried to start fights over the silverware, or the way your shoes fit, or even how bright the lights were in the room. It didn’t take long for your parents to stop arguing back and just ignore you.

Mabel noticed that almost made you more angry.

Other times, your parents would nit pick at you as well. Over your hair, or the style of clothing you wore. If you had worn the same shirt twice or tracked mud into the house. Your speech quickly became more "professional" and you selected your words carefully in an effort to retaliate. It was far less outwardly destructive, but Mabel could still see the damage it inflicted reflect in your eyes.

But through all of your anger and self destruction and attempts to grab anyone’s attention, you always treated her and Jenkins with the utmost kindness and respect. That was what reminded her of when you were young. It was in the gentle “thank yous” or the soft smiles when she would hand you something. The questions about her son, or about Jenkins’ wife and cats, or any of the neighbours.

She knew you were a good kid. She knew, and Jenkins knew, and that was probably what hurt them the most through it all. You were a good kid with no one to truly lean on and no one to help guide you through this loss. And they knew it was just going to build and build and build inside you until it exploded.

The day before the funeral was the day you would see Nicky for the last time, and Mabel could see the fear and anger in your eyes. She and Jenkins had fully prepared themselves for your mental state when you got back, but even they couldn’t have prepared themselves fully.

You came into the house dazed, not hearing a single thing your parents were saying. But then it was like a switch had been flipped and you clenched your jaw before making a snide remark back to your mother. It didn’t take long to turn into a screaming match, and Mabel and Jenkins watched in horror as you balled up your fist and swung at your father.

The fear in his own eyes was evident even though your fist connected with the brick wall beside him; whether on purpose or not, you had missed him completely. Tears fell from your eyes and you screamed again as your father pulled you into a hug. Mabel watched helplessly as you tried to push him away before finally giving in and crying into his shoulder.

You held onto him like your life depended on it as your blood dripped down the pristine, white walls of the house.

“Your tie is crooked,” Mabel told you on the morning of the funeral. You had been struggling to get ready for over an hour, and no amount of makeup could hide the bags under your eyes or the lingering bruise on your cheek.

“So are these fucking buttons,” you mumbled as you ripped your dress shirt open to start over. She could feel you getting angry again. It was probably from the lack of sleep.

Or lack of food.

Or lack of help in general.

“Stay still,” Mabel huffed, setting the laundry basket down on your bed and standing in front of you.

You sighed, but remained still as she got to work on your shirt. It had been tailored only a few days before and still seemed a bit big again; it broke her heart. But she did her best to ignore it and focused on buttoning up your shirt properly. Your violent treatment had loosened two or three buttons, but she certainly wasn’t going to bring that up to you.

“How have your school ties survived this long if you can’t do them yourself?” She asked, her eyes darting up to meet yours. She almost thought you smiled.

“Wednesday always fixes them for me,” you said. You didn’t look down, but that was alright, she was focused on your tie anyway.

“You like this girl?” She asked softly. If your parents heard, they would have started screaming.

“A lot,” you answered just as softly. “I think I love her.”

“That’s a big emotion for you,” she said not unkindly.

“I hope I don’t fuck it up,” you whispered.

“You won’t,” she said with a smile as she patted your tie down. “You’re all set.”

You turned to look up at the mirror, eyes squinting and your jaw clenching before you relaxed. Mabel kept her smile to herself; she didn’t want to unintentionally encourage you to fight the reflection. You stood up straight and pressed your tie flat once again before slipping the suit jacket on.

“Thank you, Mabel,” you said softly, and you quickly leaned down to kiss her on the cheek. Your lips were chapped, but it was expected.

“I’ll see you when you get home,” she said with a smile. You smiled back once, halfheartedly, before walking out of the room.

She really hoped your anger wouldn’t explode at the funeral.

—---

The whole car ride made Wednesday feel sick to her stomach. It had been a short flight down to D.C. and now she, Thing, Yoko, and Weems were finishing the trip with the short drive to the funeral. The rest of the gang had opted to stay at Nevermore for the time being; they didn't want to overwhelm you. The funeral was supposed to be outside, or so your mother had said, but it looked like rain. Usually perfect for such an occasion.

Just not this one.

She checked the phone again, hoping you had finally answered. It was a foolish hope, she knew that much, but it still resided in her chest. No one had heard anything from you since you had left the harvest festival, not even Yoko or your family. She shouldn’t have expected you to answer her of all people.

But she hoped you would have.

“We shall give her space,” Weems said once she pulled the car through the gates to the cemetery. It was connected to the reception hall, where everyone would go after the service.

It reminded Wednesday an awful lot of the cemetery back home.

“Except you, Addams,” Yoko said, drawing Wednesday out of her thoughts.

“Why me?” She asked.

“You give her peace,” Weems answered.

Well, that was comforting; surprising, Wednesday knew. To know that everyone else could see her effect on you; had they seen your effect on her? They probably had. Enid certainly had, and that was more than enough torture. But if they said she gave you peace, then who was she to argue.

Once the car was parked, everyone got out. Thing climbed onto her shoulder as she unfolded the umbrella. She waited patiently as Weems and Yoko got out as well, each holding their own umbrellas, before they started the short walk to the grave.

It seemed the rain had ruined the original funeral plans, seeing how no one was sitting anymore and the chairs were in the process of being removed. Wednesday and the small group stood off to the side and waited. They hadn’t exactly been invited, but who was going to stop them? Especially at a funeral.

You were one of the lead pallbearers, the one on the front left. Wednesday felt her heart drop into her stomach at the sight of you; dark eyes, clothes hanging off your smaller frame, your wings invisible beneath your suit jacket. But the worst part was you didn’t seem sad. No, you looked angry.

After lowering the casket back to the ground, you hesitated, your fingers running across the wood before you walked to stand near your parents. They tried to offer you an umbrella but you ignored them. You simply stood in the rain, looking down at Nicky’s casket as an old, unsteady man started talking.

Wednesday simply watched you the whole time. Watched the difference in your posture, your back straight and head up. She took note of the way you clasped your hands in front of you even though she could see the scabbed over skin pulled taut across your knuckles. She watched the muscles in your jaw tighten and relax, over and over and over as you blinked too many times to keep the tears at bay.

You were upset, rightfully so, but Wednesday couldn’t have found you more beautiful. Not because you were suffering, not because you were struggling, but because you were. You were handling everything so well, at least on the outside, and she couldn’t help but admire the way the rain fell down your face, caressing the skin in comfort.

Your family, you included, looked impeccable standing there together. Wednesday could only imagine how powerful all of you would have looked if the four of you had been together; you, Nicky, and your parents. Standing there in perfectly tailored suits, manicured to perfection, neutral expressions on your faces. Is that how you would have looked if you had stayed with them? Would she have had the same pull toward you?

She waited until the funeral itself was over before making her way to your side. Everyone else - including Thing - had gone inside to escape the rain and start the reception, but you didn’t move a muscle. Her shoulder brushed against your arm when she got close enough, and for a moment your shoulders fell and your jaw unclenched.

“I’m tired, Wends,” you said in such a quiet voice that Wednesday almost couldn’t hear you over the rain. “And I feel alone.”

Time to use the comfort teachings everyone had been helping her with for the past two weeks. They had drilled it into her head time and time again, through all hours of the day and night until she could recite it properly. It was robotic sounding, she knew that much, but it was a start. She hoped it would work.

“It’s okay to feel sad,” Wednesday said. You stiffened beside her. “But you are not alone.”

“Did Yoko teach you that?” You asked, immediately catching on. She should have known better.

“I-,” don’t lie, “-yes,” she admitted. “I’m not particularly adept at comfort.”

“I don’t want comfort,” you said, turning to look at her. The rain had finally started washing off the makeup from your face and she thought she could see something on your cheek. “I don’t want pity. I want you to be real with me.”

“Real?” Wednesday inquired with furrowed brows.

“Yes, Wednesday, real,” you huffed. “Be real with me and tell me what you’re thinking.”

Now that you had put her on the spot, she wasn’t sure what she was thinking. She was thinking of the now-obvious bruise on your cheek and where it had possibly come from. She was thinking of the bags under your eyes if you had been getting enough sleep, which clearly you hadn’t.

Part of her was thinking of her own parents, as unusual as it would be. How they had fallen in love at a funeral and had confessed their undying devotion to each other. Funerals had always been a romantic event for the Addams family, and she was aware this was for your brother, but she couldn’t deny she knew what her parents had meant every time they reminisced.

Oh. That’s what she was thinking.

“I am thinking…,” she paused, blinking at you twice, three times and looking away. You wanted real. She looked back up at you to meet your probing gaze. “I love you.”

Your brows knit together as you looked away from her for a moment.

“What?” You asked quietly.

“You asked what I was thinking,” Wednesday clarified slowly. “I was simply thinking that I-”

“-Don’t say it again,” you interrupted.

And right there, right then, Wednesday felt her cold dead heart break in her chest.

“You did not just say that,” you said with a huff. “Did you really just confess?”

“Yes,” Wednesday said indignantly. “It’s what I was thinking at the moment.”

“We’re at my brother’s funeral, Wednesday,” you said, far louder this time. “Do you really think this is the time?”

“You asked,” she said again. “Why would you ask if you didn’t want to know?”

“I can’t,” you said as you held your hands up and started backing up. “I just- I can’t do this right now.”

Wednesday let her umbrella fall as she watched you walk off toward the reception hall with hands on your head, covering your ears. She could feel the rain slowly seeping through her coat, but all she could really focus on was you. Only you, and how her father had been right.

Love was agony.

—---

You were going to be sick. You could feel it in your chest, your lungs, your stomach. Your mouth wouldn’t stop salivating and you were going to be sick. How could she say that? How could she tell you that now? Your palms were sweaty when you dragged them down your face, ignoring the makeup that you wiped off with it.

It should have been exciting to hear Wednesday say such a thing. She was capable of love, a genuine love, and had even felt so strongly as to verbally tell you as such. And it had been ruined because they had killed Nicky and now you couldn’t even enjoy the single fucking good thing in your life.

You felt sick.

Your parents were standing in the middle of the room, talking and laughing with some lawyer or congressman or senator or whoever the fuck else could put up with them long enough to talk. It was like they weren’t even upset, they weren’t even devastated that their son, their first born, was currently being buried six feet under. Didn’t they care?

You felt sick.

Weems, Yoko, and Thing were off to the side, talking with each other. They looked up, almost as if sensing your staring, and gave you sad smiles. They pity you, the voice in your head spat in disgust. You frowned at the thought and turned around, looking for someone, anyone to talk to. Hell, at that point you would’ve taken the old man off to the side that was giving you a look that made you rather uncomfortable.

Your eyes fell on a couple standing next to the fireplace, talking quietly with each other. Something about them seemed familiar, but you couldn’t quite place from where. But you stopped caring when you saw the subtle cloud of smoke fall from the taller one’s lips and you quickly made your way over.

“Mind if I steal a hit?” You asked when you got nearby. The taller one smiled sadly.

“Sure,” they said as they handed the vape over.

You grabbed it and brought it to your lips, inhaling deeply. It scalded your throat and stung your lungs as you held it in for far too long before slowly exhaling. You watched the smoke as it evaporated into the air, leaving nothing but a sickeningly sweet smell in its place.

“That’s disgusting,” you mumbled as you handed it back to them. The shorter one still hadn’t looked up from the hole they were staring into the ground.

“It’s marshmallow,” they chuckled.

“Like I said,” you said, “disgusting.”

“You’re Nicky’s sister,” they said with a half smile, avoiding your gaze by looking out at the crowd again.

“You’re a couple of strangers,” you said.

“I’m Casey,” they chuckled lightly, “and this is Devon.”

Devon finally looked up and eyed you up and down before looking back to the crowd with the slightest hint of a sneer. If you hadn’t spent so much time with Wednesday, you would’ve missed it. What could they possibly be sneering at you for? It was your brother’s funeral. You felt the muscles in your jaw tighten.

“He talked about you a lot,” Casey said softly.

“How would you know?” You asked way more harshly than necessary. Part of you didn’t care. Okay, none of you cared. “He hasn’t exactly done much talking recently.”

“The three of us were… close,” they said with a distracted nod.

“He was in a coma for four years,” you scoffed, “how close could you be.” You reached over and took the vape from their hand and brought it to your mouth for another hit.

“We were his partners.”

You choked on the smoke, leaving your throat raw and scratchy. Your head spun to look at Casey and Devon, eying them to see any sort of discrepancies in their body language. If Wednesday had taught you one thing, it was how to tell if someone was lying. Avoiding eye contact, licking their lips, anything.

There wasn’t a single sign.

He hadn’t told you he was dating anyone. Why hadn’t he told you? Surely he would have, you two told each other everything. He was your big brother, for fuck sake, he would have told you. Right?

Right?

“We loved him too,” Casey said softly; they still weren’t looking at you.

He lied. He fucking lied.

You looked out at the crowd and took another hit of the vape. Then another. And another. And a fourth one for good measure. It felt like your lungs were going to burn themselves to embers, but you didn’t care. At least it felt. After a fifth hit, you slipped it back into Casey’s hand and continued looking out at the crowd.

“I’m sorry,” you said softly, your voice now hoarse and deeper than usual.

“We’ll get through it,” they said. “He’ll get his justice.”

They know he deserves justice too, the voice in the back of your head said. You couldn’t argue with it. But what else could you say? It was too much and you had too many questions. Where had they met? How long had they known Nicky? How long had it been going on?

You felt sick.

You didn’t bother saying anything else to them before walking off, walking through a haze until you ended up with the group your parents were talking to. A few of them tried talking to you, giving their most insincere condolences before going back to their conversations.

It was disgusting. Watching them laugh and talk as if you weren’t standing at a funeral reception. As if you hadn’t been standing at Nicky’s literal graveside less than an hour ago. Heartless, the voice said, they killed him and are using it as an excuse to socialise.

“I can’t recall what caused his condition,” one of the men said when there was a lull in the conversation.

“A car wreck,” your father said with a few mindless nods of his head.

“That’s tragic,” a woman said. “Drunk driver?”

“An Outcast, actually,” your father answered.

Wait.

“What did you say?” You asked, drawing everyone’s attention.

You felt something tug on your pants, and your eyes darted down for just long enough to see Thing. He was wearing a little black bowtie around one of his fingers. But you weren’t focusing on him; you were too busy thinking about what your father had said.

“I said an Outcast caused the wreck that killed my son,” your father continued. His back straightened as he kept eye contact with you.

“Abominations, the lot of them,” a man huffed before taking another drink of the wine in his glass.

Thing pulled at your pants leg again. You kicked him away, listened to the subtle sound of him scuttling across the floor. Thankfully no one else had noticed him.

“An Outcast didn’t kill him,” you bit back. “You two were the ones that pulled his life support.”

The group around you fell silent, now beyond interested in the conversation. Any chance to get a good helping of gossip, of course. That was how all socialites worked, especially when another socialite was involved. In this case it was your parents; they were going to be the talk of the town for a year.

“No son of mine should have to exist as a vegetable simply because we couldn’t be merciful,” your mother said. “Especially because of some sinful abomination.”

“Stop calling them abominations,” you growled through clenched teeth.

Your fingers were starting to ache as they curled into fists at your side. Your pulse was rushing in your ear and for a moment, you felt your chest was going to explode. That your heart would beat faster and faster, harder and harder until it finally broke free.

You took a single step closer.

“If it were up to me, I’d have them all euthanised,” your father said as he smiled at you with his “show everyone we’re perfect” smile. You took another step forward until you were almost directly in front of him. “The world would be a much better place.”

The sounds of the world muffled in your ears, and all you could hear was the sound of your own breathing. Erratic, shallow, rushed. Something dripped down your neck and your jaw felt like it was going to crack under the pressure. That migraine came roaring back as you stared into your father’s eyes.

Do it.

Your fist connected with his nose before you could even comprehend what was happening. The people around you gasped and stepped back as your father fell to the ground. One of his hands attempted to stop the flow of blood while he held the other out in front of him.

But you saw red.

You knelt down on top of him, only one thing on your mind as you grabbed his shirt collar. He almost looked remorseful for a moment. But only for a moment. Again. You tightened your grip on his collar as you swung again. And again. And again.

Harder.

You could hear Nicky in the back of your head, screaming and pounding against the inside of your skull. Telling you to stop, begging you to let your father go. Each time Nicky pounded against your skull, you threw another punch. And another. Something wet slid down your cheeks and you couldn’t stop.

Something wrapped around your waist and yanked you back. Hard. The wind flew out of your lungs and you instantly grabbed onto the arms around you. You tried to pull them off but your hands were slick and you couldn’t get a good hold. You were stuck.

“Y/N, stop,” the voice said into your ear. Weems?

“Say it again,” you shouted at your father who was frozen on the ground, bruised eyes focused on you. “Say it again, you fucking coward.”

“Breathe,” another voice said before someone stepped in front of you. Yoko?

“You're defending the group that killed your brother,” your mother said as she knelt down to look at your father’s injuries. He was wheezing and covered in blood. "You should do this to them instead."

You tried to lunge forward again, and the arms around your waist almost gave out. You threw a leg out, hoping to kick him while he was down. Just one more. But the arms around your waist tightened again, and Yoko grabbed your flailing feet until you were being carried out of the room.

“Don’t you fucking touch them,” you shouted as you continued attempting to fight and Weems and Yoko struggled to carry you. “I’ll fucking kill you next time.”

You felt sick.

The cold air and rain hit you like a brick wall when you were finally outside. The arms and hands holding you back let go and you fell onto the ground as you stared at the now-closed doors of the reception hall. Your frantic breathing was the only thing you could hear.

“Breathe.”

Another face came into view, and almost instantly your breath caught in your throat. Wednesday’s eyes were wide and focused on your face. They were bloodshot; why were they bloodshot? Her hands were poised to touch you, to check you for injuries, but the moment you felt her hand on your arm you flinched.

You saw red. Only red. You wanted to hurt something. Someone. You didn’t give a fuck who it was, you just wanted to make someone else hurt the way you were hurting. To swing at whoever was closest.

“Don’t fucking touch me,” you said as you crawled back across the ground. Wednesday immediately let go.

I don’t want to hurt you, you thought as you pushed yourself up to your feet until you could start stumbling away. Shaky fingers unbuttoned your jacket and ripped the buttons off your shirt until you could reach the harness. They were calling after you; you didn’t know what they were saying. The harness hit the ground and the moment your wings unfurled, you jumped into the air.

You had nearly hurt Wednesday.

You felt sick.

#wednesday addams x reader #wednesday x reader #wednesday imagine #everyone but her au

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dayque · 3 months

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The night before Robert's funeral, Alec enters and rushes to the bathroom to wash off the blood before the children notice it. Magnus tells them what happened as sensitively as possible, but the children were too young to understand and Maryse and Isabelle were trying to stay stable so that Rafa and Max wouldn't see them devastated. Once Alec came out of the bath, he sat on the couch, his children were playing with Tavvy in front of the fireplace as if nothing had happened, Isabelle, who was crying in the kitchen with Simon, came out to the living room to hug him as hard as she could.

Alec had not cried since he returned home, his sister needed him, his mother needed him, his children needed him, and although he felt his sister's tears soak his shirt and his eyes burned from having cried in the Gard and seeing the fire without blinking he doesn't cry.

A few hours later Mark and Hellen appeared at the door, everything seemed to be happening very slowly, as if it were a dream, the children came out to say goodbye to Tavvy, but Alec didn't pay much attention. He was sitting there touching Izzy's hair, telling her that he was still with her and would never leave, like the days when their father would leave for weeks and she would be devastated waiting for him, until one of those times she lost faith that he was. came back. Surely he would now never return...

It's time to sleep, Magnus has Max on his chest, they both sleep on the couch, and Alec takes Rafa in his arms to take him to take a bath and get into bed. With his pajamas on, Rafa is watching Alec come and go, confused, as if something had been lost, first he couldn't find the hairbrush, then the storybook and now he is looking in the suitcase for the stuffed rabbit that Rafa usually sleeps with. He can't stand his curiosity any longer and asks "Daddy, why is everyone crying except you and bapa? Even uncle Simon was crying."

Alec sighed, took the rabbit from the suitcase, and sat on the bed next to Rafa where he had made a space for him. Without much desire he told him "When I was little, maybe your age, adults told me many times that children couldn't cry, and now no matter how much it hurts I don't know how to do it," Rafa was silent, he looked at him with his big black eyes and told him "if you want I'll teach you" hugging his stuffed rabbit tightly as an explanation he told him "first, you have to hug something you love very very tightly and then you have to sigh loudly taking out a lot, a lot of air through your mouth."

So Alec took his little son in his arms and hugged him tightly, enough so that his scent stuck to his pajamas and to his memory. He didn't know if he was doing well as a father and he was horribly afraid of looking like his dad, most of his childhood had been spent in fear and his entire adolescence was a complete martyrdom, his father became the cruelest judge and at the same time In the person he loved most in the world, he really wanted to please him and he had the impression that now he would never achieve it. The last years with him had undoubtedly been the best, and it was unfair that when his father finally loved him back, they had taken him away from him without giving him time to show him that he was a great son and everything he was able to do.

So he cried, on behalf of little Alec who needed a dad to hug him, on behalf of the teenager who he could never cry even though he was terrified and in pain, and on behalf of the adult who had lost a father today. He snuggled his sobbing son, he didn't seem to care that he was taking up much of his bed, and promised him with a kiss on the forehead that he would continue practicing how to cry so he could be a better dad.

"I'm proud of you, daddy", Rafa said in a murmur before falling asleep.

I hurt my own feelings with this scenario in my head and now I want to cry in company

Sorry for my grammar and spelling, have a nice day:3

#shadowhunters #the shadowhunter chronicles #cassandra clare #cazadores de sombras #magnus bane #alec lightwood #malec #max lightwood bane #rafe lightwood bane #incorrect shadowhunters quotes #rafael lightwood bane #malec fanfic #fanfics #malec headcanons #headcanon #robert lightwood

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anonnie-in-wonderland · 1 year

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Home Calls the Heart

Summary: Twenty-year old L/N Y/N realizes she might be, okay, is a little bit of a social pariah. But there’s not much she can really do about it. Until a dreary winter day, when a determined, persistent dog hybrid named Taehyung shows up and declares that he’s interested in adopting her for himself and the rest of his lonely pack.

chapter: five

Word Count: 8.9k+

rating: T (uh, once again none I can think of this time)

genre: romance | hurt/comfort| magic AU

tags: bts x reader | ot7 x reader | hybrid | poly| FM!reader

Emperor Penguin!Seokjin, Golden Retriever!Taehyung, Coyote!Hoseok, Mountain Lion!Yoongi, Wolfdog!Namjoon, Kingfisher!Jimin, Holland Lop!Jungkook

prev//next

Author’s Note: Thank you everyone for your patience. I really thought I’d have had time to put this out a lot sooner than this, but it was just too busy. But I hope this can be like a holiday gift maybe!

The rabbit stood stiffly off to the side as his family (and their guest) prepared the table. Like Namjoon, everyone had been both surprised and relieved to see him out of the room and willing to join them, greeting him with smiles and a few hugs.

They backed off quickly though, probably scared they were going to overwhelm him if they made a big deal about it for too long. Jungkook supposed it made sense they would treat him as fragile, he was the youngest so it was already a given they babied him for years. Then when Gramps left them suddenly he did kind of check out.

Admittedly, when Jin-hyung mentioned a guest staying overnight, Jungkook hadn’t thought about it. The information slipped away almost as fast as it registered. He had more important things to wallow about think over. And, even if he had been paying attention, the pack maknae would have just come to the conclusion it was someone they already knew.

The neighboring farms, spread out as they were, had known about Gramps. They sent condolences or a few dishes for the boys to eat while the lawyer helped break down his will and the hyungs made funeral arrangements. Why would any of them bring a new person around when they were all still mourning?

Clearly, a lot had happened since he’d shut himself off, because the human girl among them was brand new to him. She had to have been new to the others too, because they didn’t keep secret friends from each other.

“Um, so, anywhere in particular I should set this?” the newcomer was asking Jin. She held up the plate of eggs she had been given. (Y/N). Namjoon-hyung said her name was (Y/N).

“Somewhere near the middle is fine,” Yoongi answered instead, walking by with a big, chilled pitcher of orange juice to place. “If any of these uncivilized heathens want some, they’re not shy about taking their share.”

Even Yoongi-hyung was acknowledging her? Jungkook barely held back his look of surprise. Being that Yoongi was born a wild hybrid, and had spent a portion of his childhood that way, he was more wary of new humans than most.

Gramps and a few of the old man’s associates that came around over the years and were trustworthy were about the only exceptions. Every other non-hybrid person that came into their space got the cold shoulder for the most part.

“Speaking of that, (Y/N) you fix your plate first.” Jin instructed, finally setting down the amazingly fluffy, mouth-watering stack of pancakes. “I made more than usual but I still doubt there’ll be any extras.” Jungkook’s nose twitched as the warm steam wafted into his nostrils, carrying the sweet and gooey fragrance of cinnamon rolls.

His hyung was definitely a culinary genius. Fusing breakfast pancakes and dessert should have been a crime, it was so good.

“It’s been so long since hyung made these,” Taehyung stated, tail wagging. “I don’t think I can hold back.”

“Do you ever?” Namjoon muttered, though there was a small smile on his full lips.

Once everything was out and set up, everyone scrambled to take their seats. Jungkook went for his usual spot slowly, noticing that (Y/N) hung back, looking painfully out of place. She was still wearing Taehyung’s coat, though it was open, revealing Jimin’s pajamas.

The minute he had seen that, Jungkook grew more curious than ever about who she was to the others. Yeah, sometimes if one of their friends came over and spent the night they might borrow a change of clothes, but not a female friend.

“Wait,” Taehyung brought attention to the same thing he noticed, absently placing his hand on Namjoon’s wrist before it could bump his glass. “(Y/N) hasn’t sat down.”

That was when everyone turned their attention on the awkward female standing by, then glanced around the table. All the spots had been set but one, and Jungkook had taken up his usual one.

There was only one seat left, and there was something about it that made offering it up wrong. Gramps. Gramps’ spot remained empty and untouched, chair tucked neatly in. Evidently, even their guest could sense that was not a seat for the taking, as she had opted to just stand around instead of sitting there.

“Oh, it’s no big deal,” she assured them. “I can eat at the counter…”

“You don’t want to sit with us?” Taehyung pouted, the puppy eyes in full effect.

“It’s not that!” She said quickly, “I just…”

“Just grab an extra chair and we’ll all scoot down.” Yoongi mumbled, “It’s not that big of a deal. I’m hungry and ready to eat.”

Blinking, the others nodded slowly, seemingly okay with that suggestion.

(Y/N) made her way to an available stool just as Jimin got up to fetch it for her, ever thoughtful. Their hands landed on it at the same time, and they both paused, then shared a brief chuckle.

“Let me,” Not taking no for an answer, Jimin picked it up easily and brought it to the table, placing it between his chair and Hoseok’s. (Y/N) thanked them and sat down, allowing breakfast to continue.

While it was true he’d only been nibbling at his meals the last week, suddenly the low hunger pangs in his stomach were making him regret that. His fingers loosely gripped the silverware, waiting a little impatiently as a girl he had never seen before got to take her time preparing her own plate at Jin and Taehyung’s insistence.

Finally she was done, and just like that, everyone sprang at the food simultaneously, the loud clambering nearly drowning out Jin’s scolding about having some manners. Jungkook was so used to it, he didn’t even bat an eye, holding his own just fine against his hyungs as he secured a stack of pancakes, eggs, and a few links of sausage. Jin didn’t cook Western often, and he wanted to savor it. But his stomach had other plans, and when he stuffed the first few heavenly bites in his mouth, the bunny would admit he wasn’t sure he tasted it until after it went down.

“So, what do you think?” Hoseok asked (Y/N) conversationally, keeping an eye on his plate in case anyone got greedy and snuck a few bites. They loved each other, but everyone in the household knew all was fair in food and war.

“Good,” she hummed, having another bite after swallowing the first. “Really good. Thank you for letting me share this meal with you. It beats the energy bar and coffee I usually wolf down in the morning.”

“It’s nothing,” Jin smiled, clearly pleased with her approval of his cooking. “It’s the least we can do since you put up with this one’s insolence,” he waved his hand at Taehyung, who tucked in closer to his plate and avoided Jin’s eyes, “And helped with Jilju this morning.”

Jungkook perked up at that. He hadn’t planned to say much unless someone addressed him directly, still equally curious and cautious of the girl among them, but he couldn’t ignore anything that had to do with his horse. Outside his hyungs and Gramps, she was the one he was closest to on the farm. “Jilju? What’s wrong with Jilju?”

“Oh, nothing now.” Namjoon popped some eggs into his mouth, grinning deeply in a way that brought out his dimples. “(Y/N) was able to take care of it. It was very impressive.”

(Y/N) sank down a little, trying to hide a small blush in her shoulder. “Just doing my job.”

“How’d that go, by the way?” Jimin urged, cutting up his pancakes into neat pieces the way he always did before eating. “What was wrong?”

He turned to (Y/N) curiously, and Jungkook watched her closely as well, head full of questions.

“Well…where to start…” she paused, lowering her fork with sausage on the end. “She was a little anxious, for one. I think I got through to her. I reassured her that she’s doing the best she can by Jungkook, and that there’s no need to worry about losing her connection to him.”

“Why would she think that?” Jungkook frowned, then turned to his nearest hyung, Yoongi. “How would she know that Jilju thinks that?”

“Because,” Yoongi had opted for coffee instead of juice, and the strong smell of the brew singed the hairs inside Jungkook’s nose a bit. How his hyung chugged that stuff black he would never know, “Our new friend here has magic, and her gift is understanding the emotions of animals.”

“And hybrids,” Taehyung added proudly.

Jungkook only stared at the girl, who squirmed slightly, awkward smile in place. “Magic?” He repeated.

“Mhm,” Namjoon nodded, “You know, the rare individuals who are born with a special ability? I’ve read a book on it that—”

“I know what it means, hyung,” he said, then cringed inside when Namjoon’s ears drooped. His hyung was always so genuinely excited to share what he learned with them, and they all listened indulgently, even if they had heard him rambling about it a hundred times. He really hadn’t meant to sound like he didn’t care, he was just struggling to understand.

How had his colony come across a human with magic? Did she come just to check the animals then? They had all acted like they understood that Gramps wasn’t coming back, so he wouldn’t be surprised that it had impacted their moods. “Sorry…” he mumbled at Namjoon. “I just don’t get it. Why would Jilju tell you what was worrying her if she didn’t tell me?”

“Sometimes it can be…hard…for animals to communicate some things to us, even when we share a strong bond. Sometimes they deliberately try to avoid worrying us,” she said patiently.

Jungkook shoveled more food in his mouth and tried to avoid pouting. When his hyung’s food tasted so good, it was normally hard not to be happy but right now…he was a little annoyed. Some stranger turned up and it felt like she understood his friend better than he did.

“That’s…not all.” (Y/N) shared, smiling as everyone looked at her curiously. “It turns out Jilju is also expecting.”

“What?” Jimin gasped, speaking in unison with Jungkook, who dropped his fork.

“Yeah…” Namjoon rubbed his neck. “It surprised me too. Remember when one of the horses from Mr. Lee’s farm escaped and we found him the next morning?”

“Jilju’s pregnant?” Jungkook couldn’t believe it. His horse? Was going to be a mother?

“Apparently,” (Y/N) chimed in, “Surprise, and um, congrats!”

Jungkook said nothing, still processing that information.

“We’ll have to make sure she has enough rations,” Yoongi mused. “She’s eating for two now.”

“And we’ll keep the stable comfy-cozy for her,” Hoseok sang.

“You’re an uncle, Jungkook!” Tae clapped, the faint thump of his wagging tail easy to pick up with his sensitive ears. “And we might not have found out so soon if I never met (Y/N) yesterday. I knew I picked a quality human.”

“Yesterday?” Jungkook was a rabbit, not a parrot, but it felt like all he could do was squawk out every word that blindsided him. “You met her…yesterday?”

Taehyung nodded.

“Then why is she here?”

“Jungkook,” Jin huffed, “That was a little rude, don’t you think?”

“Not really,” (Y/N) disagreed, “it’s fair.”

“Why did you say ‘picked a quality human’?” He said, ignoring her. The longer she was here, the more Jungkook felt his discomfort grow. What was going on?

“Because—”

“Long story. Not Tae’s most well thought out decision, either.” Yoongi smoothly disrupted whatever the dog was about to reveal, and Jungkook glared a bit.

“Can’t you just tell me what’s going on?” The bunny insisted, aware he sounded the part of the petulant youngest brother, but also irritated with being kept in the dark. “Who are you?” he asked (Y/N).

“Tae’s heart was in the right place…” Jimin sighed, “He just didn’t think it through, like hyung said.”

“Taehyungie brought (Y/N) home, because he thought having someone new around could cheer us up.” Hoseok explained carefully, to which the younger canine hybrid nodded in agreement.

That explained…a little bit. They loved Taehyung and his spontaneity and eccentricity, but sometimes it caught everyone off guard. “Why her, specifically?” Jungkook pressed, “Because she’s got magic?”

“I didn’t even know that when we met, actually.” Taehyung admitted, hiding in his curls sheepishly. “She just…seemed nice. I got a good feeling.”

Their hyung had brought a random human back to them, when they were all still so upset at losing their main caregiver and father-figure, off of a ‘good feeling’?

The rabbit could feel his foot tap irritably. “What?” His voice came out flat, unimpressed. “That’s stupid, hyung.”

“Yeah, it was,” Yoongi rolled his eyes, stabbing into his pancakes with extra force. “But we’ve been over that already. We talked, we fought, some of us cried…” His glittering emerald eyes slid to Taehyung. “It was a whole thing.”

“I haven’t been over it,” Jungkook protested, “I’m not over Gramps! I…I thought none of you were either!”

“We’re not,” Namjoon said calmly. “All our hearts are still broken.”

“Right now it doesn’t feel like that, hyung.” he hissed, full on glaring at (Y/N), making her flinch. “I don’t care how special a human she is. She’s not Gramps.”

“Here we go again…” He heard Yoongi say.

Jungkook began to collect his food with the intention of retreating upstairs, because like hell he’d be able to enjoy it like this, and there was no way he was leaving it or throwing it out either.

(Y/N) also lurching to her feet at the same time was the last thing he expected, and he instinctively stilled, cradling his plate protectively while making himself bigger.

Thanks to Gramps indulging him years ago when he said he wanted to work out and get stronger, the youngest hybrid was well aware he wasn’t built like an ordinary bunny.

They were genetically predispositioned to petite or average frames, and because of their prey genes, putting on muscle—except maybe in their legs—did not come as easily for them as it did for predators.

But with dedication and hard work, Jungkook had made himself someone to be reckoned with, and now when they went out, predator hybrids gave pause as they tried to size him up.

His scent was still recognizable to them as rabbit, if they got close enough, but he didn’t get intimidated after living and growing up with several of his natural predators.

Plus his size helped him stand toe to toe with the snake, cat and fox hybrids out there who might try making him uncomfortable.

Needless to say, an average human like (Y/N) had no chance. He could tell her first instinct was to back down. But she swallowed it down in the next second, her eyes determined, “Wait, please don’t leave.”

Jungkook stopped, unable to help himself. What could she want to say? Nothing was going to change his mind about her not being a suitable replacement for Gramps. No one was.

“You weren’t at the meal yesterday, so you didn’t hear it but…I’m sorry.” One minute she was speaking, the next minute she was bowing deeply. “I’m sorry for your loss, and I’m sorry for making you uncomfortable. It doesn’t matter about what the circumstances were that brought me here, it still ended up causing pain, and that’s my fault.”

“(Y/N),” Taehyung sounded like he wanted to object, but she straightened, shaking her head.

“It’s the truth.” She said firmly. “The choice to follow you here, even when I learned you wanted a new family member, that was on me. I should have used common sense and stopped you, especially knowing you didn’t live alone.” Nervous energy poured off of her as she played with her sleeve. “Also I…I lost someone too.” Judging by the silent reactions, this was information none of the others had heard before. “Not as recently as you did, but he was a very dear friend to me, and the eight months I’ve spent without him have been really hard.” (Y/N) bowed her head mournfully.

Jungkook looked at her, really looked at her. He would have never assumed she was also missing someone as deeply as he was missing Gramps, but then he’d only just met her, and how she felt wasn’t his priority so much as wanting her to go away.

Oblivious, or ignoring everyone’s staring, (Y/N) kept talking. “So I relate to that pain you’re all going through right now, and I’d never disrespect your bond to a member of your family by trying to force myself into that dynamic or think I could fill a hole that large in any of you. Everyone we ever love is special. Different.”

Her voice cracked on the last word, so briefly only a hybrid could have heard it. “I’m glad I could help solve your problem with Jilju, and thank you for letting me stay the night and even have breakfast, but if my clothes are dried, I should go. Everyone here’s been great, but you deserve your home back.” Cleaning up her spot hastily, (Y/N) stood in the kitchen doorway and gave them one last bow, eyes full of sincerity, then scurried out of sight.

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

She came down the stairs, almost dreading running into anyone. Why did she have to keep making a mess of things with these hybrids? They’d probably be glad to be rid of her.

Who wouldn’t want to free themselves of a pest. Gathering the meager things she had arrived with, neatly folding Jimin’s borrowed pajamas after changing back into her clothes, and stripping the sheets (knowing how sensitive hybrids were to smell, and figuring Jungkook wouldn’t want her scent in the middle of his room), (Y/N) was pretty much ready to go.

Creeping down the stairs, she found it was quiet, and glanced around unsurely. While she wanted to be out of their hair, leaving without saying goodbye would be…rude. But so would wandering around their house in search of someone.

Luckily, the sound of voices conversing in another room gave her an indicator about where everyone might be, and she mustered up her courage to go find them.

Peeking her head in, she found Namjoon, Jin, Hoseok and Yoongi talking amongst themselves at the kitchen bar, though they all looked up immediately. Damn. No way to go undetected when super hearing was in the mix, huh?

“All set?” Jin asked.

(Y/N) nodded. “I am. Thanks to you, and sorry again for the trou—”

“Apologies are played out, don’t you think?” Yoongi interrupted, appearing bored as his long tail swished lazily. “We’re not interested in hearing any more of them.”

“This hyung’s always so shy about showing new people how he feels.” Hoseok giggled, pinching Yoongi’s cheek affectionately. “But he’s just trying to say none of us think you have anything else to apologize for. It’s been talked over, and in the end it was just a misunderstanding, right?”

(Y/N) frowned, shifting her weight from foot to foot. “But, Jungkook—”

“He’ll be okay.” Namjoon reassured her, his ears flickering. “In time anyway. Right now he’s working out to blow off steam instead of holed up in Gramps’ room again. That’s big progress.”

“Plus he ate all his food.” Jin practically swooned.

“Yeah, kid’s gonna be back to eating us out of house and home in no time.” Yoongi chuckled, the fondness in his voice clear.

“See, no permanent damage done.” Hoseok concluded.

“Well…that’s a relief.” (Y/N) grinned weakly. “Anyway, I really should get—”

“Hyungs!” Taehyung’s excited shout made her jump, but the four hybrids siting around the bar didn’t appear surprised at all.

“No one listens to my rules,” Jin groaned. “I say no running. I say no yelling in the house. I say put your clothes in the hamper and not on the floor. Am I talking for my health?”

“At this point…” Yoongi mused, though he didn’t finish when Taehyung burst in.

“Oh, (Y/N)!” He greeted her, face lighting up as soon as their eyes met. “I’m glad you’re still here.”

The pup still kind of gave her whiplash, but somehow, (Y/N) thought she might have been getting used to it. “How come?”

“Cause the lake’s frozen,” he said gleefully, “And you know what that means?” He asked his hyungs. They glanced between each other, quiet. “We should play outside. Have a snow day. We haven’t done that all season, and—”

“Tae, you brat,” The airy voice of Jimin complained from behind them. (Y/N) turned to see him wearing a scowl and trudging through the front door the dog had left open. “Why’d you take off like that? And after I helped you get your tongue unstuck from…oh.” His eyes widened when he noticed the crowd in the kitchen and doorway.

“What’d he get his tongue stuck to?” Hoseok pressed curiously.

Taehyung shrugged, “Jimin dared me to lick a sheet of metal.” He tattled nonchalantly.

“I didn’t think you’d do it!” The avian hybrid exclaimed, throwing up his arms, wings rustling.

“You two can’t be left unsupervised for more than ten minutes.” Yoongi sighed. “You were supposed to be making sure all the animals had enough blankets and fresh hay.”

“We did,” Taehyung’s tail was slowly gaining speed and his ears had a slight lift, “Then I noticed what a good snow day it’d be. C’mon hyungs, please?” (Y/N) had not been around long, but she absolutely knew what was coming next, and turned to preemptively shield her eyes just as Taehyung made his bigger, rounder and more innocent pitiful. “You should join us too, (Y/N).”

Gah, oh no! He turned the force of his gaze on her, and gently clasped one of her hands for good measure, trying to tug the other one down.

“Hmm…I guess all of us haven’t been outside much besides tending to the farm.” Hoseok murmured. “We use to roam the property and play outside all the time. Maybe it’d be okay to indulge the pup this one time,”

“One time’s enough for a fun time,” Taehyung cheered.

“‘One time’ is enough to make it a habit.” Yoongi corrected. “You think we met you yesterday, pup?”

“Still, what’s it hurting?” Jin added his two cents. “Winter weather feels great to me.”

“Hyung, that’s a given,” Namjoon pointed out, “But okay, I guess a little time outside wouldn’t be so bad.”

Taehyung clapped, “Meet you all out at the shed!” He put a hand on (Y/N)’s shoulder. “You can come wait for us near the ice.” The next thing she knew, she was being steered towards the door.

“Hey, hold on,” Jimin huffed, “Don’t just drag her around without letting her decide for herself. And she’ll need a coat, hat, gloves and boots if she’s coming out with us. She’s not resistant to the cold.” he ended, rolling his eyes at the dog’s impulsiveness.

“I…thanks for the invite but I don’t wanna get in the way…”

“Please,” Taehyung not only used the eyes this time, but hit her with a very puppy-like whimper, and (Y/N) crumbled like a sandcastle kicked over.

“Okay…just a little while though.”

Taehyung gleefully brought her to the hall closet so she could borrow some winter layers again.

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

The glistening lake caught the weak sunlight of the winter sky, sparkling like a diamond that had just been given a polish.

The farm really was an idyllic winter scene right now, (Y/N) marveled. The trees were bare and the snow was heaped up all around, but it was still manageable to get around the property.

She waited patiently by the lake, which was conveniently next to the shed Taehyung had mentioned. It could have been its own little house, and even boasted a small porch. The boys had ran right into it, promised they’d be back shortly, and closed the door.

‘I didn’t see Jungkook join them though.’ (Y/N) couldn’t help but think about the last person she had blindsided, staring off into the distance, where she could make out the main house.

Was he still exercising? Did he know they were going to play outside? He shouldn’t have to miss a time to have fun with his family just because she was being included. Doubts about staying started to creep up again, but before they could consume her too much, the shed’s door creaked open, and out waddled a very impressive, tall emperor penguin.

(Y/N) gasped, gazing at the proud bird in awe as it bobbed over to her, stopping a short distance away as if waiting for her to be done admiring him. “S-Seokjin-ssi?” It had to be him, right?

The flightless bird bowed his head in confirmation, turning completely around once so she could see all of him. His sleek body was beautiful, and perfectly designed for this element.

(Y/N) had only seen penguins on TV and once from behind a glass at the zoo. Nothing did justice to Seokjin’s impressive form. And when he stepped onto the frozen lake and gracefully began skating around, (Y/N) was even more gobsmacked. “Wow…”

A bark disrupted her admiration of Seokjin’s moves on the ice, and she found a familiar golden dog bounding towards her.

Taehyung got into a playful crouch as he approached, tail fanning high behind him. (Y/N) giggled, bending to meet him. “So this is what you had in mind?”

He yipped, spinning in circles and then taking advantage of her proximity to lean up and lick her cheek before lunging away.

(Y/N) put a gloved hand over the spot, jaw dropping as she watched Taehyung run and roll around in the snow. More of the hybrids emerged from the shed, two more canines following him.

There was a slender but well-muscled coyote that trotted out calmly and sat on his haunches to watch Seokjin skating and Taehyung playing. Followed by a large, bi-colored canine of intimidating stature with intelligent eyes. Namjoon for sure.

His thick, black coat was streaked through with silver, something (Y/N) doubted was from age. It looked like a natural pattern, and a cool one at that. His thick tail waved once, and then he stopped next to Hoseok and observed too. “All your animal forms are so beautiful.”

Hoseok’s ears went back and his eyes got round, a smile on his muzzle. He was the normal golden brown of a coyote, but with a russet undertone more prominent now that he had shifted than it was before. He tilted his head back at the shed and barked, sounding like he was beckoning someone.

A short, feline snout popped out, and then slowly a whole head. (Y/N) watched the big cat watch them, until he decided to place one paw outside the structure, and then another.

Soon a mountain lion was stalking silently from the shed with all the languid grace of an apex predator. (Y/N)’s heart skipped a beat as his gorgeous green eyes found her, then turned to his fellow hybrids as if to say, ‘I’m out here, now what?’

Taehyung quickly took care of that, seizing on his opportunity once he saw his hyungs and running straight for them. Yoongi grumbled, lifting a paw as if to stop him. It didn’t even make the dog break stride, and he tumbled into the other hybrids, licking them all mercilessly in the face and yipping cutely as if to thank them.

(Y/N) had to hide a giggle when Yoongi swatted at him with his tail and Taehyung caught it in his mouth, tugging on it and trying to pull him in closer by it.

Although that seemed to annoy the mountain lion, his tugs to reclaim his appendage were half-hearted at best. Hoseok joined in, though he seemed to be on no one’s side but his own.

One minute he was pulling Yoongi’s ear and gently getting cuffed for it, the next he was nosing at Taehyung’s sides like he was trying to tickle him, and it got the dog to let go and show his belly, evidently still ticklish no matter what form.

(Y/N) almost didn’t notice the last presence, one hovering close to her face, until the cutest little chirp drew her attention.

A deep blue bird was flying right next to her, and when she studied him, he chirped again. “Ohh, Jimin-ssi, your plumage is so shiny.” The bird landed on her shoulder, puffing out his chest in pride as she grinned. So little, so cute.

Seokjin, noticing the rough-housing happening on the snowbank, glided over to join everyone.

Soon five hybrids were chasing each other around, occasionally someone getting tackled and going down with a face full of snow to show for it. (Y/N) stood and watched, not sure if she should be joining or keeping out of the way.

Jimin had flit from her shoulder and was egging the others on, tugging at their fur and then darting away when they looked over their shoulder. He’d peck someone and then zip up into the air before they could even think about getting him.

But given that he was so small and delicate in this form, (Y/N) couldn’t imagine them playing with him the way they were playing with each other.

Taehyung slid into her legs as he failed to skid to a stop in time, and she watched him roll onto his paws and shake off. He barked, tugging at her pants and whining when she only blinked. “Are you asking…”

He barked again more urgently, tilting his head at the others, who were all peeking over at them. “How would I join in?” She asked, genuinely curious.

Seokjin kicked snow with a foot, honking.

Squinting, (Y/N) watched him clumsily mold snow into a lumpy ball and then point at it with a wing. “You can’t really be asking me to have a snowball fight with you.”

Taehyung swooped down on Jin’s snowball and lobbed it as best he could, hitting Namjoon in the ear when Hoseok ducked. Namjoon growled, snatching up a mouthful of snow without bothering to mold it and trying to return fire.

Jin squawked as Taehyung hid behind him, refusing to abandon his living shield no matter which direction the penguin turned in.

Raising a brow, (Y/N) quickly made a snowball and threw it at the dog. He yelped as it hit his flank, his large blue eyes full of betrayal. Though it almost made her feel bad, (Y/N) grinned at him. “Sorry, sorry, but it was only fair, right?”

Namjoon took the opportunity to pile on, flinging another snowball he had made while they were distracting that Taehyung took under the chin.

The light tweeting Jimin did sounded suspiciously like laughter as the dog barked dramatically, picking up snow in his mouth and chasing his hyung with it.

The fast wolfdog ducked behind Yoongi, who nearly got bowled over by Taehyung. The big cat took that as his sign to join in, pinning the dog down and making him swallow the snow he was holding.

There was nothing but vindication in those sharp emerald eyes, and (Y/N) watched in interest as Hoseok brought a snowball he had made to her and then ruffed quietly. “Are you saying we should team up?” she whispered.

Jimin flew down and landed on the coyote’s head. “And you want to be on the team too?” He confirmed with a chirp. “Think we can really take them all on?” The two hybrids nodded in determination. “Alright, then let’s get some distance first. Come up with a plan of attack.”

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

Heart pounding after his workout, Jungkook removed his boxing gloves, swiping his bangs from his eyes and grabbing for his water bottle. He had forgotten how good the burn of his muscles after an extended session in the gym felt.

The rabbit hybrid sighed, not hearing any sounds in his vicinity, and guessing everyone must be downstairs. He shuffled into the hall’s bathroom and began to strip out of his sweaty workout gear.

Better to get clean now before Jin-hyung caught a whiff of him later and complained. Besides, sometimes a warm shower helped loosen up the sore muscles and made the whole post-workout come down feel even better.

Adjusting the water to the right temperature and waiting patiently, Jungkook glanced in the mirror. He looked at the circles beneath his eyes, and touched a piece of hair that had fallen into his face.

It’d been a while since his last official haircut. Gramps used to give them himself, but once they got older and started to complain about wanting to look more fashionable, he began taking them into town for a professional to do it. Lately, Jungkook had been thinking of growing it out though.

Maybe his bangs could use a touch up, but the ends of his hair feathered past his ears, just the way he wanted it. His floppy, velveteen ears could use some attention and grooming as well.

They had always been soft and silky to the touch, according to his family. But Jungkook could tell the difference. Dragging himself to shower every other day or so for the last week meant the texture had fallen below his usual standards. To him they felt oily. Nothing a quick shower couldn’t remedy now, though.

He lathered his hair in the lightly scented shampoo already there, letting the water run over his muscles and trying to piece together what had happened downstairs.

So, while he was alone in Gramps room, Taehyung had met (Y/N). A human girl from the park nearby. She was…pretty normal, except the having magic part. If it were any other time, he might be kind of intrigued, but he was still put out by how she had come to be in their house.

When she left, he would talk more about it with his hyungs, and they would reassure him that no one would be allowed to come in and join their family so suddenly. Especially not some silly girl from the park. Everything would be alright…

Eventually, his shower concluded, and he made the short trip down the hall to his bedroom. It had been a while, Jin or someone else normally bringing a change of clothes for him to Gramps’ room.

So he was unprepared by the unfamiliar scent that buffeted his nose as soon as he walked in. He took a sniff and his nose instantly crinkled. What…was that? Who was in his room?! The last sheets were off the bed, bagged up and ready for the laundry. A clean set had been put on tidily in their place.

But Jungkook could practically taste it in the air. That new scent. (Y/N).

They really let her use his room? All his hyungs knew how sensitive he was to scents.

Technically, all hybrids were scent-sensitive, but having spent his early life the way he had, it was particularly amplified in Jungkook’s case.

Sliding on some clean clothes quickly, the bunny hurried to his bedroom window and wrenched it open. The crisp winter air flowed in immediately, sending a chill down his neck. Relieved, Jungkook stuck his head outside and breathed in the clean mid-morning air with his eyes closed.

Nature smelt so good. The world was blanketed in a soft layer of snow, on the fencing separating the path from the fields and the roof of the barn and even on the shed way out by the lake. It was probably frozen. Jungkook squinted out in that direction, seeing several figures darting around, seemingly having a great time.

A fond memory surfaced, Gramps taking his hand and leading him out onto the ice, teaching him how to skate when he was very small. Then Taehyung came sliding into them, and everyone went spinning across the ice like newborn foals.

Come to think of it…someone had poked their head in the gym and told him they were going out to play in the snow for a little while, and that he was welcome to come along. But Jungkook had been so focused on his workout, it really hadn’t registered.

Hesitating there at the window, he watched the four-legged creatures bounding around each other, able to make out most of his hyungs. Jimin was impossible to spot from here if he was shifted, though.

Joining in did seem tempting. He was still hurting, of course. That was unlikely to change soon. But Gramps wouldn’t want him holed up inside all day. Maybe it was fine to get out, get some fresh air and enjoy the company of the others…

All those thoughts came to a crashing halt when he made out an extra figure, up on two legs and running amongst the animals in the snow. Wait, was that…?

(Y/N) again. Didn’t she go home already? For a second, Jungkook contemplated not even going out there. Avoiding her until she left seemed like the best bet.

Then, he thought about the fact that he was letting some new person who wasn’t even staying keep him from spending time when his hyungs, and he had missed them.

Defiantly, he went digging in his closet for a warm hoodie and his snow boots.

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

Laughing, (Y/N) went down hard, falling to her knees and placing her arms over her head. It didn’t stop the onslaught. She was repeatedly pelted from behind by sizable snowballs, the hybrids having gotten quite good at making them without hands.

Hoseok brushed by her, barking, darting around Namjoon and distracting him with seemingly innocuous play. At some point the strategy had kind of fallen apart, and they were improvising.

Though that meant it was hard to tell who was winning. She, Hoseok and Jimin had taken the others by surprise, but not for long.

Who knew they would have such a vicious competitive streak? Except maybe Yoongi. Kind of just seemed like he was only riled up because he kept getting pelted every time he tried to shuffle off to the side and watch.

“Tactical…” (Y/N) said through her giggles, “retreat!” She went crawling away, dragging herself to the shed with the hopes of getting a moment’s reprieve.

Her cheeks had to be as red as a cherry by now, and her throat burned a little from rapidly inhaling the cold air. Even her fingertips felt a little numb, despite the borrowed gloves. Still, it was the most active she had been in a while, and the game was a lot of fun.

Lurching up on her hands and knees, (Y/N) dove behind the shed, taking cover (and the opportunity to catch her breath) with a grin. She wiped some slush from her eye, peeking behind her to see Hoseok trying to dodge the opposing team and join her, with Jimin’s little body no where in sight amidst the larger hybrids and snow flying everywhere.

Hopefully he was safe and up high. (Y/N) sighed, wondering if she should be planning a rescue, barely containing a startled squeal when she nearly came nose to nose with a very…large…rabbit.

Its black nose twitched, and the big golden brown eyes watched her steadily. The animal was what (Y/N) would most certainly class as ‘a unit’—a wall of muscular fluff. She’d never seen a lop-eared bunny so big and defined. “Um, hello…” she whispered, “Did you come to see what was going on?”

The rabbit eyed her down, unmoving and somehow, unamused. A loud growling-bark sounded from just behind her as Namjoon tumbled from a well-timed push, and (Y/N) moved to protect the smaller animal on instinct. Big bun or small bun, she still didn’t want him squished.

What she hadn’t counted on was the rabbit reacting like it did the minute her hand moved to bring him in close to her chest.

(Y/N) hissed, immediately retracting her hand, eyes widening as her fingers throbbed where his teeth had sank into them through the glove. She didn’t think he’d broken skin, but his powerful little jaw had moved quick as lightning with a warning bite.

He turned his back to her, his long back legs kicking snow in her direction, and the action felt almost scornful. Then he hopped away, out into sight of the others, who stopped and made excited cries as if to welcome him to their game.

‘Duh, of course that’s Jungkook.’ (Y/N) winced, easing her glove off to inspect her hand. ‘I probably overstepped just now. I wouldn’t want a stranger touching me without warning either.’

There was a light tap on her shoulder, and (Y/N) twisted her body to see Jin towering over her. He honked, tilting his head and appearing puzzled. “Are you asking me if I’m okay?”

His sleek head bobbed.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” she said hurriedly. “I guess I’m tired. That was a long, intense game, right?

Taehyung trotted over, dipping his head as he studied her and then whining loudly. “Let’s say your team won, huh? That was fun. Thank you. I think I really should get going though. Gotta check on my car and all.”

Shaking himself off, the dog ran into the shed with a loud crash. “Wait,” she heard him shout from inside, voice echoing through the cracked door. “I’ll get dressed and walk with you.”

More hybrids walked into the shed, (Y/N) heard a chorus of voices and some light squabbling. “Don’t you think you’ve clung to her enough already? One of us could also walk her back.”

“But!”

“I think one of us tagging along is a good idea. Taehyung would just stall on purpose.”

(Y/N) inwardly smiled. However short her time had been with them, they had made her life more lively than it had been in a while.

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

The crunch of the snow beneath her feet felt extra noisy. In comparison, her two escorts were silent as they all reached the parking lot. (Y/N) found there wasn’t anyone around, and no other cars left unclaimed, so it was easy to spot her vehicle, half buried under a mound of accumulated snow, but intact.

Huffing, she marched over, careful not to trip, digging out her key and unlocking the driver’s side door. “Well. This is my ride.” She told the two hybrids, smiling gently. “Thank you for seeing me back safely, and for hosting me too. I wish there was some way to repay your generosity.”

“It was the least we could do.” The older hybrid gave a single rough pat to Taehyung’s head, “Don’t mention it.”

The dog stepped forward, bangs falling slightly into his wide blue eyes, “So this is goodbye?”

“Uh, well…for now?” (Y/N) stammered, unsure why she felt so overwhelmingly guilty. “But you know, maybe not forever.” She extended a hand toward him, “You’re a nice guy, Taehyung, and you’ve got a good family. No matter how it happened…I’m glad we met.”

After staring at her hand, he slowly grasped it, giving it a firm squeeze. It wasn’t quite a handshake, but a parting offer of comfort. Sadness flowed through the touch, but not like she had felt before. It was touched with…hope. “Take care of yourself, okay? And don’t approach just anybody eating a hamburger on a bench anymore.”

A faint smile tugged at his lips briefly, “You take care too, (Y/N).”

Leaving Seokjin and Taehyung in her rear view mirror felt a lot like abandoning an opportunity to finally have some new friends.

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

“Hold him steady!” One of the zoo staffers yelled. Several grown men groaned and grunted as they wrestled with the belligerent kangaroo (Y/N) was supposed to be seeing.

The feisty animal twisted, eyes screaming murder as he managed to smack one of the people restraining him with the thick tail attached to his backside. Before (Y/N) could get any closer he had broken free with one mighty kick, leaving the poor zoo keeper dazed and sprawled on the ground, clutching at his ribs.

She winced, hoping he would be alright. “Tae-hui,” she called. “Please stop. I know we’ve never met, but I’m here to help.”

The kangaroo was clearly still rearing to go given his body language and the way he was bouncing around, so (Y/N) dared not press her luck until she saw if she got through to him.

Why couldn’t all animals in need be as easy to work with as Jilju? The horse had just needed some patience and understanding words, and she was compliant by the end. Thinking of her last encounter using her gift outside of work brought back memories of the farm.

And the boys.

How were they doing now? Was the grief of losing someone so dear to them any better, or just ramping up? It had been about a week, and she still regretted not at least suggesting they keep in touch.

Then again, what if they didn’t want to? How could she explain she was lonely and desperate for companionship? They might think she was a pushy creep.

“Yah!” Someone yelled.

Tae-hui was coming her way, someone comically trying to hold him still again with the kangaroo paying no real mind. (Y/N) braced herself, ready to get out of the way if needed. Just another day in the life for her…

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

Lips twisted lightly, (Y/N) used her thumb to scroll down the page pulled up on her phone, trying to check what ingredients the recipe called for while steering the shopping cart. The last thing she wanted was to run over anyone’s toes in her quest to try cooking pad see ew. It was worth expanding the palette every now and then. Or maybe even she was tired of her own cooking and needed something new.

Either way, (Y/N) was determined to give it a go. If only she could find what she needed. “Did they change the store’s layout around?” she mumbled to herself. “The noodles should have been on that aisle I just passed…” Continuing on, she did manage to find and grab some of the sauces the recipe called for. A few evening shoppers also milled about, (Y/N) passing an older woman deliberating over two brands of soup, an impatient youngster standing near by. “Halmoni,” the boy sighed, “My feet hurt. Can we please have dinner?”

“Ssh,” she hushed absently, waving a hand without looking at her grandchild.

Quietly walking by them, (Y/N) reached the end of the aisle, veering her cart sharply to avoid a store clerk who was mopping up a spilled mess from a broken jar.

She heard the gasp in time to avoid running into the woman who was coming out of the aisle she was entering, a shopping basket dangling on her arm. “Oh, sorry.” (Y/N) mumbled. “Are you alright?”

The woman said nothing, making unnerving eye contact and then slowly squinting, “Wait…(Y/N)? (L/N) (Y/N)?” Heart skipping a beat at the recognition, she tilted her head, trying to recall where the woman could possibly know her from.

“…Yes?”

“It’s me,” the lady gasped, moving a bit closer with a smile. “Gosh, how long has it been?”

“I…I don’t…”

“Do you really not recognize me?” She whispered. “It’s Choi Taeyeon.”

“C-Choi Taeyeon?” The name immediately elicited very vivid memories, some more pleasant than others. “I…” (Y/N) took a deep breath, pasting on a grin that was hopefully more excited than awkward looking. “It’s been so long. How are you?” Choi Taeyeon had once been her best friend. A proper greeting was the least she could do, right?

Finally having been acknowledged properly, she beamed, a pretty, gleaming white smile ringed in a blush shade of lipstick. Taeyeon’s stylish bob fell neatly around her shoulders, and her pink cashmere trench coat was cute and fashionable. She looked great.

In comparison, (Y/N) stood in her normal work attire: khaki pants and a polo-shirt, bundled up with a sweater and coat for layering. There was no dressing glamorous when working with animals. Who knew if she would be slobbered on, clawed at, peed around, or otherwise get dirty.

‘I probably look like a drowned rat!’ (Y/N) suppressed the urge to reach up and smooth down her hair.

“Busy as ever.” Taeyeon sighed, “I’m afraid it’s starting to show on my face.” Of course, it was just fake humility. They both knew she looked excellent. “I followed my dreams and moved to Busan to work a nice job at a news station for the last two years. Now I’m back in Seoul and I’ll be covering national events.”

“That’s awesome,” (Y/N) remembered when they would talk of their dreams together. Taeyeon had at first wanted to be a weather girl, but by graduation her sights were set much higher. “I’m not surprised.”

“What about you? What are you doing these days?” (Y/N) cringed inside, hoping they could politely go their separate ways after exchanging pleasantries. They hadn’t exactly parted ways on the best of terms… Once a painfully shy girl with a stutter, Taeyeon had hit it off for (Y/N), the class black sheep, in elementary school.

After all, they were both excluded in activities by their peers, or picked last, or avoided. Sensing a kindred spirit, (Y/N) eventually befriended Taeyeon, and they had stuck together from then on.

When her power surfaced for the first time, outside her father, Taeyeon was the first person she told. Months later anyway. Although they shared everything with no secrets between them, magic was not as usual anymore, and people who had it could face a variety of reactions from others. The last thing she wanted was for her closest friend to see her differently.

The guilt of hiding something from her unsuspecting best friend left a throbbing pain inside. When she finally felt ready to share the truth, Taeyeon had listened with fascination. Relieved that she no longer had to hide, (Y/N) never imagined the way it would all change when they reached high school…

“I’ve been…around. I work with animals.” She explained vaguely.

“Oh, that sounds like you,” Taeyeon giggled with a nod. “Same old (Y/N), huh?”

(Y/N) smiled weakly. “Yeah…same old me.” When could she be on her way? The longer she looked at Taeyeon the more she wanted to cry, all the memories rushing back. And that was not acceptable.

“Well. It was nice to see you,” Finally, that sounded like the end of a conversation if she ever heard one! “Maybe we could have a coffee date, catch up someti—”

Taeyeon stopped talking, mouth parting a little. (Y/N) quirked a brow, confused by her sudden awe. A large hand landing on her shoulder nearly made her jump, and she squealed, chopping at the stranger behind her, only to come face to face with a pair of bright blue eyes she had seen in her mind all week.

“T-Ta-Taehyung?” She breathed.

“(Y/N)!” The dog hybrid said, voice full of happiness. “I knew it was you. I told you it was, hyung.”

Jin and Hoseok were there too, both of them staring at her with surprise and then smiling. “How’s it going, (Y/N)?” Seokjin greeted, “Long time no see,”

“Y-Yeah,” (Y/N) was smiling so hard her cheeks hurt, almost forgetting all about Taeyeon still gawking behind her. “That’s crazy, running into you guys here.”

“We don’t normally shop here.” Hoseok admitted, “But the pup insisted,” he motioned to Taehyung.

“I told them this was a grocery store a lot of people go to on this side of the barrier, and maybe you shopped here too, so every time we need anything I ask to come here.”

(Y/N) gaped. “Y-You had no idea if I’d even be here tonight.”

“I had a feeling I’d get lucky,” he countered, pride twinkling in his eyes.

“U-Um,” Taeyeon shuffled into view, tugging at her coat. “You know them?”

She was looking at them like she was in the presence of celebrities, and it struck her then that they were all very good-looking. “Hi, I’m Choi Taeyeon.” Her former friend bowed.

Taehyung eyed her curiously, then turned to (Y/N), who shrugged uneasily. “I’m Taehyung.” He said. “Those are my hyungs,”

“Jin.” Seokjin nodded politely.

“Hoseok.” Hoseok put in.

Neither of them were acting as taken with Taeyeon as she was expecting. Since her transformation in high school, Taeyeon always had her pick of the boys wanting to date her.

“Well,” she fluffed her hair. “I’m an old friend of (Y/N)’s and I’m back in town for the first time in a few years. I was just suggesting we go for a coffee date, but maybe you’d like to join us?” She asked, her voice lowering into a subtle purr.

(Y/N) wanted to hide her face. All this and all she wanted was to get her ingredients and make dinner. Although she was over the moon that she happened to see the boys again.

“I’m sorry,” Seokjin apologized. “It’s not the best time for us to have social engagements. We recently had a death in the family and are still in mourning.”

“O-Oh!” Taeyeon gasped, “I’m so sorry! I didn’t…my condolences!” She slid a hand into her purse and took something out which she passed to (Y/N). A business card. “Let’s arrange something later (Y/N). I won’t hold you any longer.” She bowed, then waved with a cute smile at the boys. “Maybe some other time when things are better for you.”

(Y/N) blinked, hiding her surprise. When Taeyeon had finally walked away, it felt like all the tension went with her, and her shoulders slumped as she leaned into her shopping cart. “That was…exhausting,” she whispered, forgetting she was in the presence of beings with superior hearing.

“Yeah, we could hear your heart thumping a mile away.” Hoseok said sympathetically. “Are you alright.”

“Yes,” she said truthfully. “Now I am. Thank you.”

“Was she giving you a hard time?” Taehyung questioned.

“Not exactly…” (Y/N) thought of how to put it. “It’s just…we were old friends a long time ago and we parted ways not on the best of terms. I wasn’t expecting to see her here.”

“Friendships that end awkwardly can be tough,” Seokjin hummed. “Though it really is a pleasant surprise to run into you again. This one was sulking for days because he wanted to reach out to you but didn’t have your phone number.”

Taehyung reached into his hoodie, eyes bright and hopeful. “This time, can we exchange numbers?”

“Wait, really?” (Y/N) couldn’t believe it. He felt the same way she did. “You wouldn’t mind?”

“I told you that I like you, (Y/N).” The dog said patiently. “And Jiminie said you promised to be his friend, so why can’t you be mine too?” The accusing whine went straight to her heart, and before she knew it, she was handing him her phone.

Author’s Note: I promise Jungkook is a sweetheart. lol It’s just that he’s finally at the place in the mourning process where he comes up for air, and then there’s a big change shoved at him right away, so he’s a little overwhelmed and uncomfortable. And taking it out on (Y/N). Things do get better between her and our bunny boy (in time). Also a gentle reminder that if you change your handle, please let me know or me tagging you may not work! I tried my best, but some people’s blogs or gone or they just cannot be tagged now for some reason.

**TAGLIST IS CLOSED**:

@sunoosult @hesmyphenominiall @taradevonne @childfmoonn @stcrwhiz @ghostkat23 @colourlyhobbit @juju-227592 @iconicjk @cestlabellemort @squishyturtle @singukieee @jcrml @neyneythepainaway @emu007 @mojojojothegreat @daydreambrliever @dinorahrodriguez @cosmos-d-clouds @blackrockshooter780 @hydroyaksha @tinyoonsblog @toughbook @4evahevah @7dilemma7 @yoursoontobestepmom @jiminie-08 @black-rose-29 @malewife-supremacy @do-as-you-dont @yoonseok-jjang @mageprincess7 @pipminnie @sinceritythatcouldntbedelivered @kodzuskook @doublebunv @nonbinaryidiot @silscintilla @amarokofficial @bangtanxberm @kimsaerom @aurorasymphonies @kawaiikpoplover268 @anacbm

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shadowed-dancer · 2 months

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I watched the Netflix atla and I have thoughts

I will break them down into positives, negatives, and assorted, but if you want the short version: it's better than the M Night Shyamalan film.

Positives

I like that Zuko's crew is the 41st division. It's a cute detail, and honestly I had always wondered how they chose soldiers to accompany an exiled prince

I actually liked Suki's characterization. Like yeah, I believe that girl has never had contact with outsiders. And I think her chemistry with Sokka is great! I can't wait for her to come back and see more of the world (her "thank you for bringing the world to me" line is cute when you consider he brought her an air, water, and fire bender... less cute that her village almost got destroyed but still)

Hot take: I don’t mind that they cut Sokka’s sexism arc. It was minimal in the original series to begin with, and with the pacing of the Netflix series it would have been pointless and rushed. I truthfully believe that if they hadn't mentioned the cut beforehand, 5 people at most would have noticed it was gone

Wow Koh the Face Stealer is SO MUCH WORSE in live action. So gross. His face BLINKS. 10/10 to whoever designed that, I hated it and recognize that it was perfect. I look forward to seeing it in my nightmares (also I don't mind the change of "don't show any expression". It still works)

Gyatso telling Aang that it wasn't his fault and that he wouldn't have been able to do anything was so sweet and important to me, especially with all the other adults in this series being turned into Grade-A assholes. It’s been a while since I watched the entire original series but were the adults THIS mean about it in the original? I know the occasional random townsperson would say "you abandoned us" but I don’t remember people like Bumi or THE OTHER AVATARS blaming him like that (I know this is the positive section but just to be clear, the positive is the Gyatso scene. Turning everyone else so mean will be touched upon in the negatives)

All of Gyatso's scenes were actually amazing. I cried. Also finding his body hit so much harder in live action.

Leaves from the Vine playing during Lu Ten's funeral and then again when Iroh chose to go with Zuko... I tearbended HARD at that one

I think they did a good job merging three story lines into Omashu. I know it may bother some fans, but for the time they had I thought combining all of those together within the city was clever. Plus, since we see the city get taken at the end of the season, we feel more invested since we spent more time there! (I'm also glad they didn't destroy the Northern Air Temple... that always bothered me)

The sets are lovely. They look so similar to the original show and it makes me happy to simply see these places come to life. I got so giddy seeing Omashu you don't even understand

I like the interpretation of Aang’s tattoo. That was actually the one thing I liked from the M Night Shyamalan film (intricate designs rather than a straight blue block) and I feel this is an even better interpretation (the designs are more subtle until he lights up)

The wink and nod to the great divide (and other episodes like the pirates) was cute. I do wish we got to see some adventures of the kids bonding, but boy am I glad they didn't feel the need to adapt the great divide

I liked that they sang secret tunnel a little early. The second the mechanist brought up the secret tunnels I burst into song on instinct, so it's only fair the characters do the same

I liked Zuko having a notebook on the avatars. Of course he would have made that. And I liked that Aang used it as a reference

I liked how they teased the "my cabbages!" line before giving us the real thing. Just a fun thing for fans of the original

Negatives

The first episode had so much exposition it actually felt exhausting. Also Zuko really came out of the gate swinging with his motivation, eh? No nuance or slowly unveiling why he wants to capture Aang? Ok...

Ozai confused me. After finishing the season I believe Ozai's motivation was "sacrifice the weak to become strong, use Zuko to fuel Azula to be better" but it felt so confusing to get there. There was a point where I thought he genuinely wanted to see Zuko grow and find the avatar, and while it's fine for Zuko to think that, it felt weird for us to be jerked around like that (especially the in-between point where it feels like he prefers his banished son to his spy-catching daughter).

I also don’t like the way he acts with Azula (again, I know it's an act, but it's a bothersome change). He calls her performance below average. What happened to "she’s a true prodigy, just like her grandfather for whom she was named"? When characters like Mai and Zhao have to tell us "he's just playing games" it feels like they are telling rather than showing. "She's a true prodigy" SHOWS US he has a very obvious favourite. "He's playing with you" TELLS US that he's lying, and we therefore need to just accept that Azula is actually his favourite even though nothing he has done supports that

I don’t like that Aang was heading North due to a premonition from Kyoshi. I always liked how "the avatar must travel the world and find their own teachers in order to care for the world". Why not let him look for teachers? It enforces the idea of the avatar needing to care for all nations in order to protect all nations. I feel like it was supposed to go for this new direction of “the avatar must do it alone” but unfortunately I don't like that message as much

I mentioned in the positive section, but so many of the characters are weirdly mean (specifically the adult characters). I feel like they are trying to go for a message like "childlike mentality isn’t bad and it’s this innocence that will succeed where adults failed" but it just comes across as every grownup but Gyatso being the worst. Why are Kyoshi and Kuruk yelling so much and blaming Aang for everything? I feel like the goal will ultimately be to prove them wrong, but I do not like this characterization

Zuko’s scar needed to be SO MUCH WORSE. Something I love about the original is that every time we look at Zuko, we get a horrific reminder of what kind of person the Fire Lord is. It didn't just make his skin a little red, his eye is stuck in a permanent squint. His ear is shrivelled. You can tell that it was BAD. Here? He could cover it with makeup if it bothers him that much. Where's the texture? Where's the ear and eye damage? Sometimes it looks more like a birthmark than a serious injury. At the very least, take away his eyebrow!

Sokka and Katara’s being trapped in the spirit world was lowkey a little dumb but I get what they were going for (it's more urgent than them needing to suck on frogs). It just makes it seem worse when Aang is sitting there chatting with Zuko about his brushes. Like I loved the conversation but the fact that Sokka and Katara's lives were in danger (along with the villagers) makes Aang seem weirdly dismissive in that moment

Also... I just realized while typing this, but did they give us an ending to Hei Bai being in pain? Did I completely forget the resolution to that or was it not shown?

I don't like that Zuko chose to fight in the Agni Kai. Seeing him on the ground begging forgiveness and THAT'S the kid Ozai scars and banishes is way more impactful than "he fought but didn't go all out"

This shit went off the rails in episode 7. Why is Yue a fox who just chills in the spirit world? What happened to Tui and La? Push and pull? Yin and Yang? I got confused somewhere along the way

Am I the only one who felt the Yue and Sokka kiss came out of nowhere? She literally said she called off her betrothal when she was 16 (before meeting Sokka) because that dude wasn't the right guy. But then the kiss immediately after implies Sokka is the right guy??? The guy you didn't know existed??? Or are we supposed to infer that she fell in love with him in the spirit world? Either one is so bad pleasssseee

I infinitely prefer Zuko trying to save Zhao and Zhao choosing to die out of sheer stubbornness, compared to Iroh killing Zhao to save Zuko. Like yeah, he'd do anything for Zuko, but I felt that crossed a line (and was less impactful)

Assorted Thoughts

They mentioned the mother of faces, are we gonna see Zuko’s mom get addressed at some point? Or was that just a wink and a nod for fans who know?

The kids are pretty good actors but Katara’s sometimes feels like she's… in a school play. For lack of a better description. She's not bad, it just doesn't always feel natural or as expressive as she could be

Yue's actress on the other hand... look I don't like insulting child actors but her performance was not my favourite

Meanwhile, I loved the casting for Zuko and Aang. I like this slightly-less-angry Zuko, and Aang's actor has such a sweet face that it hurt me to see him sad

I wish we got to see an Agni Kai between Zuko and Zhao. Simply because establishing it early helps introduce us to this idea. It makes it more impactful when Ozai declares Zuko must fight, since we now know what that entails

I feel like the series is at its best when it's doing it’s own thing (the Gyatso scenes, Suki's new characterization, Lu Ten's funeral) and is at its weakest when it's trying to copy the original

#atla #atla live action #natla #zuko #aang #sokka #katara #azula

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mask131 · 1 year

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As a quick continuation of my previous post about Xavier... One thing I was really surprised about was how the scene with him interacting with Wednesday, in the infirmary, episode 1, and the recall of their childhood encounter... just got dropped.

For the rest of the show, it feels as if this didn’t happen. He could have just been a random guy. For example the hinted connection between him and the Addams family through his godmother just... disappears. And he casually mentions that he looked very different back then... only for this to also just never be brought up again, making it feel like just “Oh, that’s the typical “used to be ugly but now is handsome” cliche from so many YA romance stories... They could have used that, crafted that a bit. This is the Addams Family for Pete’s sake!

If his godmother was such a great friend of Grandma Addams, and if the Addams and Thorpe family met during their funeral, we could have explored him interacting with other family members during their visits... And for the whole “I used to be shorter and fatter” stuff there is one so obvious way to make it fit the Addams aesthetic. Remember, it is topsy-turvy world. So instead of framing it as “I was an awkward looking kid, but now I’m a handsome guy”, it should have been the reverse. As a short obese kid he definitively would have been more “handsome” to the Addams ; and showing him becoming tall, thin, more conventional through puberty could have been played as him becoming an “awkward-looking teen”. Remember : just in the 60s sitcom, every time a man is praised by the Addams for his good charm he is described as having things such as buck teeth, receeding chin, three eyes... And in the first 90s movie it is FESTER who is the handsomer of the two brothers, by everyone’s agreement.

I can’t stress how much potential there was packed in the first episode that slowly got drained... I won’t say everything they did with the character was bad - the whole “monster reaching out of the painting” to attack him was very nice, and it played so well in the aesthetic of the “tormented artist” to have him beeing attacked by his work. But let’s be honest: it could have been done better...

But I guess this is why sometimes fan-work exist: we’re here to explore the roads people create and don’t even think of walking on X)

#wednesday addams #wednesday #television series #netflix #xavier thorpe #xavier #the addams family

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whoisshel · 10 months

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The Flea and the Acrobat

pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader

word count: 3857

tw: swearing, horrible parenting ( a little bit abusive but this will be the only time)

I did name the mom, it just makes it easier instead of continuously reading your mom. I'm not the biggest fan of Y/M/N, but if everyone would prefer that, I'm not opposed.

Jonathan had driven the three of them back to his house, so you could get your car and drive you and Nancy home. Once they made it home, you said your quick goodbyes and headed into your own houses. The lights were off in your house, but as soon as you shut the front door the hallway light had turned on. You turned around and saw your mom standing there looking angry with her arms crossed.

“Where the hell have you been, it’s been days!” Your mom hissed

You rolled your eyes and started walking up the stairs, “You’re being dramatic, it’s been two days and I’ve been at Eddie’s.”

“Hey, don’t walk away from me when I’m talking to you.” Pam yelled up to her daughter. You stopped on the steps and slowly turned around.

“Why do you even care,” You snapped, your eyes going a bit wide, eyebrows furrowed and hands flying up, “You never cared before when you’d leave me home alone for days.”

“I’m your mother, of course I care!” Pam uncrossed her arms bringing them down to her side with her hands balled into fists.

You turned back around to finish walking up the stairs, “Well, you’ve done a pretty shitty job of showing that.”

“I’m still talking to you!” Pam shouted after you.

“And I’m done.” You slammed your door shut, walked over to the bed and let out a big sigh closing your eyes as you flopped down.

Pam barged through the door still yelling, “How dare you speak to me like that!”

“Oh my god!” You groaned, using your hands to cover your face.

“People are going missing left and right, you can’t be out of the house for days and not tell me where you are,” Pam ranted, “And I don’t trust that Munson kid.”

Hearing your mother talk about Eddie that way, made you sit up straight with an even angrier face. You pointed a finger at your mom, growling, “You don’t talk about him that way.”

Pam reeled back in shock at her daughter’s tone, “I hear what they say about him.”

“I guess it’s a good thing that you, and everyone else in this shallow town, doesn’t get a say in who I see.” You stood up to be level with your mom.

“I’m your mother-”

“There you go again throwing that word ‘mother’ around like it means something.” You said in a low snide voice, squinting your eyes.

Not being able to take anymore, Pam turned around and walked towards the door, “Wait until your father hears about this.” Pam slammed the door on her way out.

“What’s he going to do from his office he’s in all day!” You shouted after her, getting the last word.

You dropped your head and shoulders sighing, before turning around and dropping on your bed face first. You hid your face in your pillow and let out a muffled scream, then stood back up and got ready for bed.

—-------------

In the morning, You hid in your room and got ready for Will’s funeral. You put on a simple black dress and black keds, then pulled the front pieces of your hair back with barrettes and put on light makeup. You didn’t want to see your parents this morning, so you opted for the window as your escape. Once making it down the roof, you walked over to your car and drove away to the funeral.

When you made it to the cemetery, you walked over to where everyone else stood and zoned in and out as the Pastor talked.

“Fear not, for I am with you. Be not dismayed, for I am your god. I will strengthen you. Yes, I will help you.” As the Pastor kept talking, you completely zoned out, not needing to hear anymore. Will wasn’t dead, you knew he wasn’t, so all this was just a bunch of crap and once they found Will; it wouldn’t really matter.

After the funeral was over, everyone walked over to Will’s family and said their apologies. You followed just for show, but it was mainly to Lonnie since Joyce was zoned out and Jonathan didn’t want to hear them because he too knew that his brother was still alive.

You walked over to Jonathan to wait for Nancy, and once Nancy walked by the two, she nodded her head to the right before she kept walking. Jonathan and you followed after her to where you could all get away from the crowd, and the three of you sat on the ground to talk about your next plan to find the monster.

“This is where we know for sure it's been, right?” Jonathan asked, in more of a reassuring way since he already knew the answer. The three of you looked at a map of Hawkins that you put three x’s on.

Nancy pointed at an area of the map saying, “So, that’s…”

“Steve’s house.” You interrupted, nodding.

“And that’s the woods where they found Will’s bike and,” Jonathan said pointing at one x mark, then pointing at another, “That’s my house.”

“It’s all so close.” Nancy mumbled in realization.

Jonathan turned to look at her nodding, “Yeah, exactly. I mean, it’s all within a mile or something. Whatever this thing is, it’s-it’s not traveling far.”

You brought their attention back to the map, where you circled an area around the x marks, “This area must be where it lives.”

“You both want to go out there.” Nancy turned her head back up looking between the two

“We might not find anything.” Jonathan mumbled.

“Y/N and I found something.” Nancy stated, with wide eyes and raised eyebrows looking worried. “And if we do see it, then what?”

Jonathan looked forward, not wanting to say it, so you did, “We kill it.”

You all walked over to Lonnie’s car and Jonathan got into the passenger seat pulling out a knife to jimmy the lock on the compartment.

“What are you doing?” Nancy whispered, worried they might get caught

“Just give me a second.” Jonathan said before going back to messing with the lock. Once it was open he pulled out a gun from the compartment.

You bent over to get a closer look at it, whispering out in amazement, “Holy shit.”

Nancy’s face turned into a shocked look as she uncrossed her arms and tilted her head slightly, “Are you serious?”

“What?” Jonathan asked sarcastically, taking ammo out of the compartment and stuffing it in his jacket, “You want to find this thing and take another photo? Yell at it?”

“This is a terrible idea.” Nancy nagged, crossing her arms again. Jonathan got out of the car to stand in front of Nancy.

You walked over to stand to the side of them, facing them with a humorous look on your face, “I think this is a great idea.”

“Can you be serious for one second?” Nancy sneered at the smirking girl

“No.” You simply said

“It’s the best we’ve got.” Jonathan voiced his opinion. “What? You can tell someone, but they’re not gonna believe you. You know that.”

“Your mom would.” Nancy stated matter-of-factly.

“She’s been through enough.” Jonathan sighed, not wanting to bring his mom into this.

“She deserves to know.”

“Yeah, and I’ll tell her when this thing is dead.”

You clapped your hands together to bring their attention to you, “Okay, if this little love quarrel is done, can we get back to the real problem. Let’s go home, get changed, and then meet behind Jonathan’s house, okay?” Jonathan and Nancy just nodded. “Okay, great, see you there.”

—-------------

You drove back home to get changed into something more monster hunting ready. You still didn’t want to deal with your parents, so you climbed back through your window. Once you climbed through and shut your window, you turned around and jumped back a little from shock, now noticing your mom sitting on your bed.

“Jesus.” You whispered, holding your hand to your chest.

“Where have you been?” Her mom asked softly, raising her head up to look at her daughter with a disappointed look.

“Will’s funeral,” You said as if it was obvious, your hand moving up and down in front of your dress, “You know, my best friend’s little brother. The kid I’ve babysat, but you wouldn’t know that since you don’t know anything about me.”

“Alright,” Pam sighed, standing up having enough with her daughter’s attitude, “You’re grounded. You aren’t leaving this house; except for school. You’re dropping out of the play and you’re not allowed to see or talk to Eddie anymore.”

“What!” You shrieked, “You can’t do this!”

“I can and I will.” Pam scolded you, her jaw clenched and hands straight at her side as she tried to keep a calm demeanor.

Pam started walking out of your room thinking the conversation was over, but you weren't someone to back down even when you should, “When did you decide to start acting like a mother!”

“Enough!” Pam spun around quickly, losing all coolness, “You are done talking to me like this, you are grounded and that’s final.”

“No, I’m not done, actually.” You sneered, a small smirk on your face as you took a couple steps closer to your mom. “All my life you two have just gone off to your parties and out with friends, while you left me with nannies until I was too old then I was just left alone.” You growled the last word, as tears formed in both their eyes. “All either of you has ever cared about is yourself. You are piece of shit parents.”

At the last words Pam slapped you sharply across the face, both of you let out a gasp of shock. Your head turned to the side from the slap, you turned back to face your mom who had both her hands over her mouth.

“Y/N, sweetie, I’m so- I’m so sorry.” Pam whispered, tears falling down both your faces.

“Get out.” You croaked. Pam raised a hand out towards you, but you just slapped it away, “GET OUT!”

Pam quickly turned and walked out the door, closing it behind her. As soon as the door was closed, you covered your face with your hands and let out a loud sob. You dragged it right down your face in an attempt to wipe the tears away and pull yourself together. Walking over to your closet, you pulled out a spare bag and shoved clothes and other essential needs into it. You made sure to grab the knife that Eddie had given you; for emergency. You walked back to the window, climbing out of it and walked over to your car.

Before you could reach your car, a shout from behind you stopped you in your tracks. “Hey, Y/N!” Turning around you saw it was Steve Harrington standing at your front door. You didn’t want to deal with him right now, so you turned back around and kept walking to your car.

“Hey, wow, Y/N, stop!” Steve quickly walked after you, and grabbed your arm once he reached you, turning you around to face him. “Can we talk?”

“What the fuck do you want now, Harrington?” You sighed, rolling your eyes.

“I wanted to apolo-” Steve started to say before he really took in your appearance and saw that you were crying, “Wow, what happened, are you okay?”

“Look, Harrington, I don’t have time for this, so if you could please just leave the fuck alone that’d be great.” You pleaded, giving him a sarcastic smile, then immediately dropped it, turning back around to get to the car.

“Hey, wait.” Steve sputtered, getting in front of your door to block your way. “Can you please just talk to me for a second?”

“No, now move.” You demanded, looking up at Steve, glaring at him. Once Steve saw your face, he immediately grabbed your jaw and turned your head to look at your cheek that was bright red and had a small cut from your mom’s wedding ring. You ripped your head out of his hand and looked back down.

“Who did this to you, was it Eddie?” Steve questioned.

You scoffed at his accusation of Eddie, “Are you fucking kidding me Steve, get the fuck out of my way.”

“You can talk to me, if Eddie is hurting you-”

“It wasn’t Eddie, you douche.” You hissed, “It was my mom; you happy?”

“What?” Steve took a breath in, surprised, “Your mom?”

You felt like you were about to cry again, so you looked back down and pushed Steve out of the way, “Yes, now I need to leave.”

You didn’t let Steve say another word, shutting your car door and turned it on before reversing out of the driveway. You took one last glance back at Steve then looked away.

—----------------

You made it to Jonathan’s and walked into the woods behind his house where you heard gunshots coming from. Jonathan and Nancy stood in the woods, in front of targets that Nancy was shooting at.

“-My mom was young. My dad was older, but he had a cushy job, money, came from a good family. So they bought a nice house at the end of the cul-de-sac… and started their nuclear family.” Nancy said, lining up her shot.

“Screw that.” Jonathan muttered.

“Yeah, screw that.” Nancy mumbled back, before shooting the gun and hitting the can in front of her.

“Want to talk about shitty parents?” You said, both of them turning around quickly surprised. You took the gun from Nancy and aimed it at the can to the right of the one Nancy shot. “I can tell you about shitty parents. My parents have only ever cared about appearance. Being the best, most richest, perfect little family, but the problem is that they forgot about their daughter along the way. Unless of course, they need her there to make them look better, but then she also has to fit their standard of perfection.”

You took the shot hitting the can, then pointed at the next one shooting the rest of the rounds at it. Putting your arms down and pointing the gun at the ground, you turned back around to face the two. Nancy let out a small gasp and Jonathan cursed under his breath seeing the cut and red cheek, that’s gone down a bit but not enough to go undetected.

“What happened?” Jonathan asked, concerned for his friend that’s been in his life since 6th grade.

“Nothing, I’m fine.” You dismissed their looks, moving on from the conversation to what needed to be done, “Now, let’s go kill that son of a bitch.”

—---------------

“You never said what I was thinking.” Nancy said to Jonathan as the three of you walked further into the woods.

Once again, you became the third wheel between these two whole weird ‘will they won’t they’ thing they have going one. You just rolled your eyes, being hidden by being a few steps behind them, and thought, ‘Here we go again’

“What?” Jonathan asked, which he seems to be asking a lot lately.

“Yesterday.” Nancy reminded him. “You said I was saying something and that’s why you took my picture.”

“Oh, uh, I don’t know.” Jonathan stuttered, looking down at the ground. “My guess, I saw this girl, you know, trying to be someone else. But for that moment it was like you were alone, or you thought you were. And, you know, you could just be yourself.”

“That is such bullshit.” Nancy objected, offended by the statement that everyones been thinking.

Jonathan stops walking, “What?”

“I am not trying to be someone else.” Nancy said, turning around to face Jonathan again. “Just because I’m dating Steve and you don’t like him-”

Jonathan kept walking, done with this conversation now, “You know what? Forget it. I just thought it was a good picture.”

“He’s actually a good guy!” Nancy shouted after him, following him again.

“Okay.” Jonathan scoffed. You let out a humorless laugh next to Nancy, now caught up with them from their pause.

Nancy looked at you slightly offended, then turned back to Jonathan and continued defending Steve, “Yesterday, with the camera… He’s not like that at all. He was just being protective.”

“Yeah, that’s one word for it.” Jonathan said, as you all stopped once again.

The three of you continued your walk again as Nancy said, “Oh, and I guess what you did was okay.”

You dropped your head back, looking up at the sky, groaning, “Oh my god.”

“No, I-I never said that.” Jonathan stuttered

“He had every right to be pissed-”

“Okay, all right. Does that mean I have to like him?” Jonathan snapped, turning around to get in Nancy’s face now.

“No.” Nancy simply stated, not having any other words to say.

“Listen, don’t take it so personally, okay? I don’t like most people, he’s in the vast majority.”

Jonathan started to walk off again with you close behind him. Nancy kept standing there, she quietly scoffed to herself before talking, making Jonathan stop but you kept walking, “You know, I was actually starting to think that you were okay?”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Nancy said, before elaborating, “Yeah, I was thinking, ‘Jonathan Byers, maybe he’s not the pretentious creep everyone says he is’”

Hearing that sentence made you stop again, becoming angry at the horrible statement about your friend. You turned back around, scowling, and started slowly walking back over to Nancy.

“Well, I was just starting to think you were okay.” Jonathan sneered, walking closer to Nancy, “I was thinking, ‘Nancy Wheeler, she’s not just another suburban girl who thinks she’s rebelling by doing exactly what every other suburban girl does until that phase passes and they marry some boring one-time jock, who now works sales, and they live out of a perfectly boring little life at the end of a cul-de-sac. Exactly like their parents, who they thought were so depressing, but now, hey, they get it’”

After that, Jonathan kept walking and Nancy just stood there in disbelief. You walked up to Nancy, getting in her face a little as you talked in a low voice, “Not so fun to hear the truth is it? Nobody cares that you’re dating Steve Harrington, it’s the fact that once you started to; you changed. You became an even bigger of a bitch then you already were.”

You turned back around to follow after Jonathan, leaving Nancy to stand there once again continuously scoffing and trying to come up with something to say.

“At least my parents don't ignore me!” Nancy called after you.

You turned around, walking backwards. You shrugged your shoulders and put a fake smile on, “Sounds like they do to me.”

—------------------

It’s now nighttime, and the three of you are still walking in the woods, but now in awkward silence with distance between you. Jonathan and You continue walking until you notice that Nancy had stopped.

“What are you tired?” Jonathan scoffed at Nancy once you both turned around to face her.

“Shut up.” Nancy said, not looking at you two as she focused on the woods behind them.

“Okay, rude.” You grumbled

Nancy continued looking around with her mouth open in shock, “I heard something.”

Further in the woods behind you, a whimpering noise echoed. Now finally hearing what Nancy heard, Jonathan and you looked at each other with the same shocked face. The group started walking towards where the whimpering noise continued. When you got close to where the sound was coming from, you saw it was an injured deer that was covered in blood.

“Oh my god.” Nancy mumbled, you let out a small gasp covering your mouth with your hand. Jonathan and Nancy kneeled in front of the deer while you stayed standing behind them. “It’s been hit by a car.”

“We can’t just leave it.” You whimpered, holding back your tears, feeling bad for the poor deer.

Jonathan and Nancy looked down at the gun that Nancy was still holding on to. Nancy pondered on whether she could actually shoot the deer or not and seeing the conflicted look on her face, Jonathan reached his hand out for the gun, “I’ll do it.”

“I thought you said-”

“-I’m not nine anymore.”

“Will someone just do it?” You hissed at them, not being able to see the animal hurt any longer.

Jonathan took the gun out of Nancy’s hand and stood up with her. He pointed the gun at the deer, he cocked the gun, but before he could shoot it something had dragged it away. The three of you jump back in shock, gasping.

“What was that?” Nancy asked, scared. You all followed the trail that had been left by the dragged deer and the blood coming from it. “Where’d it go?”

“I don’t know.” Jonathan answered, “Do you see any more blood?”

“No.” Nancy replied, softly. Nancy and you kept walking to one side, while Jonathan looked on the other. Nancy had stopped to look on the ground as you continued a few steps ahead. “Hey, Y/N, do you see this?”

Turning back around to see what Nancy was pointing at, you saw a hole at the bottom of a tree trunk. “Holy shit, what is that?”

“Let’s find out.” Nancy mumbled, getting closer to the tree. She then got on her knees in front of it with you close behind. “Jonathan?!” Nancy yelled out, the two girls looking around you and not seeing him.

Nancy turned back around to look at the hole, then took her backpack off.

“Wh-what are you doing?” You asked her, but Nancy didn’t stop, she just continued to crawl into the hole.

“Nancy, Nancy!” You yelled in a whisper after the girl. You then got on your knees to look through the hole and see if you could see Nancy. Not being able to spot Nancy, you decided to follow after her. “Oh, what the hell.”

As you crawled through the gross-looking hole, you mumbled to yourself completely grossed out, “This is disgusting, this is so fucking disgusting.”

When you finally made it through, you saw Nancy standing there looking around. Walking up to her, you whispered to Nancy, “What the hell, Nancy?”

Nancy didn’t answer and just continued walking. The girls walked in between two trees, but stopped when your lights started flickering. You were messing with your flashlights when you both heard a growl to the right of you. Looking towards the sound, you gasped seeing the monster you saw behind Steve’s house. You grabbed onto Nancy’s hand as you both started walking backwards, keeping your eyes on the thing eating the deer. As you took a step back, Nancy stepped on something on the grand making it let out a snap. The monster snapped around at the sound letting out a loud growl as its face opened revealing just a big hole and teeth. Nancy and you screamed before the two of you turned around and ran away from the monster, dropping your flashlights.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson imagines #eddie munson x fem!reader #joe keery imagines #joe keery x reader #joseph quinn #joseph quinn imagines #joseph quinn x reader #stranger things imagine #steve harrington #stranger things #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x fem!reader #stranger things x reader #stranger things fanfic

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acosmicblizzard · 10 months

Note

IDV request head canons on how Annie,Ganji,Victor, and Aesop would react to the death of a loved one

Hello there! Hope you enjoy and I'm very sorry for the long wait!

Annie, Ganji, Victor, & Aesop reacting to the death of a loved one

Warnings: Mentions and descriptions of death, mentions of embalming, mentions of not eating

Story type: Angst, No comfort, Gender neutral reader.

Characters/Pairings: Aesop Carl, Victor Grantz, Anne Lester, Ganji Gupta.

Aesop

Aesop remains silent with a deadpan facial expression on, but inside, his heart is aching. He knew this could and would eventually happen, death eventually claims everyone. So why? Why does it hurt so much? Why is he in so much pain at this?

Would personally request to be the one to embalm the loved one. He wants to be one of the last people to be able to see them even in death, wants to be able to hold their hand one last time even with how cold it is. No matter if the loved one is family, significant other, or just someone very close to him.

In public, Aesop remains proper and seemingly unemotional to the person's death. But inside his heart aches with the duality of the numbness to death and the pain of losing someone important.

He can and will force his way through being the one to embalm you, no matter if he has to do unethical actions or not, he'll be the one to do it with 0 objections.

When it comes to the funeral he would definitely attend, but never show any emotion during the ceremony. He would only stare blanklessly at the coffin you're resting in. At the end of the ceremony though when he's all alone, the tears will start falling.

Anne

"..Oh... I-I see.." Anne would softly and silently mutter out. "Thank you for telling me, please.. give me a moment." Afterwards she would lock herself in her room and sob for hours on end. She already lost her mother, had her heart broken by her fiance, was betrayed by her father, and now she loses another person that was important to her.

She would close down her toy shop for a few days, sitting in the solitude of her home and refusing to go outside. The only thing keeping her almost breaking sanity from cracking was her toys.

She would spend hours upon hours talking to her toys, her voice shakey and breaking as she chatted with them. "They're not dead.. they're not dead.. they're not.." she would brokenly mutter, in complete denial of the situation.

Due to this, she also neglects her own health. Not eating due to her solitude with took a toll on both her mental and physical health.

It won't be until she feels like starving and feels absolutely physically horrible she comes out of her solitude for once and slowly starts recovering from the mental anguish she's gone through. Even though, she'll continued to mourn and long for you for the rest of her life.

Victor

With a smile plastered on victors face he would write responses to the person who shared the news with you. The written response seeming calm and composed along with the smile plastered on his face. After Victor thanks the person who send him the news and they leave, small muffled whimpers come from his stitched mouth and tears start to form In his eyes.

Due to his nature of working for the mafia as a postman and the one who makes sure communication between it is solid, he's constantly running from place to place. Your death, making it hard to have the energy to run everywhere and deliver letters and supplies.

His impulsiveness of opening and checking every letter or package he's meant to deliver gets worse after you passing, as he'll desperately search for someone who echos his pain in the letters.

Wick can sense victors sadness and pain the whole time, the pain constantly eating away at his owners heart. The dog will try it's best to comfort Victor but to no avail, it doesn't work.

The whole time, Victor continues putting up this facade of happiness with a forced stitched smile. Yet his eyes red and swollen from all the crying and sobbing.

Ganji

Having lived without much friends and most likely poverty in his younger years, a close friendship with Ganji is one he extremely values. When that gets taken away from him though, he's seething with pain and rage.

Though he's a hotshot cricket player and absolutely amazing at it, he feels his motivation to continue training and continue playing starting to slowly dwindle and disappear.

A flurry of mixed emotions keep him up at night as he just sits up in bed and stares aimlessly at the ceiling. Sometimes, going outside In the night and aimlessly hitting cricket balls into the darkness. not caring how many he loss track of.

Ganji most of the time doesn't show his emotions fully other then his anger. Refusing to let the tears that desperately needed to fall drop down from his eyes.

Ganji knows he can't give up on his dream though, death is inevitable and there's nothing you can do about those who have left you. He'll keep heavy memories of laughter, sadness, and pain in his heart as he walks along the path he's chosen.

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i-did-not-mean-to · 1 year

Text

ℍ𝕠𝕟𝕖𝕤𝕥 𝕞𝕒𝕟

The people have spoken in this poll.

Here is the Bonus chapter to my TSF (S)wiped out.

True to the spirit of the story, the title is a song title. (Honest Man by Ben Platt)

Words: 4.8 k (I've tried to make it worth your while)

Characters: Thorin x Bilbo

Warnings: Some internalised homophobia, some insecurity, a kiss

Bilbo looked up in surprise when Thorin ambled into the bar on a Thursday night, dressed to the nines, and holding a pitiful bouquet of daisies in his broad hands.

“Did one of the ladies convince you after all?” he asked and almost set the glass he was drying down beside the counter in his puzzlement; there was a sick, unhappy feeling in the pit of his stomach that he didn’t want to investigate.

It was but surprise, he tried to tell himself. He had been at the garden party, and he had seen the women completely forget about Thorin within half an hour of their arrival.

At least the first date was having a good time, drinking Dwalin under the table, while the sopping wet cat of a lady had been utterly engrossed in telling her whole life story to a very sympathetic looking Ori who had awkwardly patted her hand at regular intervals.

“She’ll get him to marry him before the day is over,” Bilbo had whispered.

Visibly surprised, Thorin had narrowed his eyes and shrugged. “Better him than me, I’d say.”

“It’s not the crystal-peddling one, is it?” Bilbo now asked and shuddered at the thought of the woman who had been kicked out from the festivities after conning Kíli into buying a whole stock of utterly useless stones and oils.

“What?” Thorin blushed; he had not listened to a word Bilbo had said because he was so relieved to see a friendly face. “What about her? I’m sure she’s in jail or in an institution by now—ask me if I care.”

“Do you care?” Bilbo complied with a crooked grin.

“No, maybe the dragon lady can get her off lightly—why are we talking about my failed dates again? It’s done, it’s over—Dís had a funeral for my potential and we’ve all wept.” Thorin gave a short bark of laughter and gingerly put the flowers down on the counter in front of Bilbo.

“Either way, Bofur has invited the last one to an exposition on doilies,” he then explained slowly. “He was so thankful for the introduction that he…his cousin has a restaurant, did you know?”

Sniggering, Bilbo shook his head. He had been delighted to meet Thorin’s friends and family, but he was far from remembering everyone who had attended the garden party, let alone recall what they did for a living.

“So, I’ve got a reservation—very sought after, I’ll have you know—courtesy of Bofur…and I wanted to invite you.”

Picking up the same glass again and polishing exactly one hand width of the rim, Bilbo stared at Thorin in confusion. “Me?” he finally squeaked. “Why?”

“You’re the only good thing that has come out of this ordeal,” Thorin admitted sheepishly. “You had my back through the whole thing, and I wanted to show my…gratitude.” It was but half a lie, a euphemism really, he told himself encouragingly as he saw Bilbo’s face cycle through a multitude of contradicting feelings within a few seconds.

“Would it be too sad to invite your sister for dinner?” Bilbo quipped, but his voice was a little unsteady on the delivery of the snarky undertone.

“Oh, if I have to sit through another evening with a demanding, dissatisfied, disapproving female anytime soon, I’ll run mad,” Thorin groaned, “be she my sister or the currently reigning Miss Universe.”

“All right then,” Bilbo agreed, forcing his cheery nonchalance to the surface with all his might. “I reckon it cannot do me any harm to eat in another establishment for once. When is your reservation? I’ll see if I am free.”

“Whenever you are free,” Thorin replied just a little too fast and too fervently. “I’ve not settled a date yet—I wanted to check with you when you’d be available.”

Bilbo blushed furiously. It hit him like a ton of bricks that Thorin had not invited him because he had not found anybody else to go with him on a particular night—he had wanted Bilbo specifically to spend the evening with him in a fancy restaurant and had taken precautions in his planning of the outing to make it so.

Having watched Thorin jump through every imaginable flaming hoop in the name of being a good date, Bilbo of course knew how dedicated the other man was to these things, but he had never considered the possibility of ever being on the receiving end of such generosity and kindness himself.

“Tomorrow? I can find someone to man the fort for me—I’ve not taken time off in years, I think I deserve that,” Bilbo mused out loud.

“Tomorrow it is,” Thorin said, confident that he’d get a table for the next day. Bilbo could appreciate and even envy that kind of self-assurance and faith.

“Do I meet you there or…”

“I can pick you up here or…”

Lifting a slightly trembling hand to his burning cheeks, Bilbo scribbled his home address on a cocktail napkin and handed it over jerkily—it was surprisingly hard to pry his fingers off the cheap paper though.

“Shall we say 7 o’clock?” Thorin asked, his eyes gleaming with triumph and boundless joy.

Bilbo nodded, feeling increasingly like a wooden doll that had been turned into a real boy unexpectedly.

“Good, I am looking forward to it. Wear something nice!” Thorin chirped and turned to the door without having ordered a drink; usually, this went against the house rules and would have merited a stern scolding by Bilbo but, on this one occasion, the flustered barkeeper decided to make an exception.

“Thorin!” he called faintly. “You do know that I am gay, right?”

There, it was out. Bilbo thought that it had been implied and referenced often enough for Thorin to get the hint, but he wanted to make absolutely sure that neither one of them was misconstruing what would happen the next day.

“Hmmm,” Thorin hummed over his shoulder, winking at Bilbo with a flash of charisma he had not lavished liberally on his female dates. “That’s why I brought you flowers. There are more where those came from, you know?”

“I love flowers,” Bilbo exclaimed passionately before he could remember his good manners and remind himself not to look overeager or spoiled.

“Then you shall have them,” Thorin grinned. “See you tomorrow!”

Bilbo snarled like a feral creature at this wardrobe; the old, weathered wood did not think his frustration worthy of a reply though and merely kept gaping at the fool its owner was making of himself out of its open drawers and doors.

“Wear something nice,” he muttered under his breath as he discarded the cream-coloured shirt he had been wearing for the last 5 minutes—he had given that one a longer chance than the five that had been tried and rejected before.

Picking up the third shirt again, he eyed it suspiciously. He liked the rich green colour and the fabric felt nice under his fingertips, but the cut was rather unfortunate as it would allow Thorin to see the smidgen of pudge he had not been able to get rid of. Pilates and conscious eating be damned!

Thorin was not a monster, he tried to remind himself; he had sat through dates with five women who had looked very different from one another, and he had not cancelled or aborted any of his meetings on account of their appearance.

Surely, he would not hold the negligible lack of perfect fitness against a man he had mainly seen only partially as Bilbo tended to hide behind the bar whenever he got flustered.

Nevertheless, Bilbo wanted to look his best, lest Thorin suspect that he was taking this date less than seriously. Maybe, he thought uncertainly, that would actually be for the better—just in case the brooding beauty had merely joked about the flowers.

Better not get his foolish hopes up! And he should hurry. And he had forgotten to comb his curls after the shower and now they had dried in a tangled mess. And it was almost time. And he had not even started on the trousers…

Just as he was about to have a panic attack on account of all the things he had clearly not considered well enough beforehand, Bilbo was interrupted in his downward spiral by the sound of his doorbell being rung.

Necessity and urgency made him jump into a nice pair of light brown trousers and pull the tight, green shirt over his unkempt head while shuffling towards the front door.

“Oh hey,” he huffed as he pulled it open, feeling like a proper romance novel hero.

Instead of the expected face—chiselled, bearded, and gleaming with mischief—he looked into a luscious bouquet of multi-coloured flowers.

“Good evening. Am I early?”

Checking his wristwatch and suppressing another groan, Bilbo assured Thorin that he was right on time. “I had a hard time choosing what to wear. Is this nice enough?”

The flowers were lowered instantly, and the electrifying glow of those startlingly blue eyes washed over a woefully agitated Bilbo appreciatively. “Absolutely perfect,” Thorin praise and extended his elbow to Bilbo. “Shall we?”

“2 minutes,” Bilbo promised, took the flowers, and dashed into the kitchen to put them into a vase. As he heard Thorin rummaging in the foyer, he allowed himself to bury his face in their fragrant beauty for a short moment before running back out and valiantly trying to slip into both his shoes at the same time.

“Don’t let my eagerness put any pressure on you,” Thorin said kindly. “We have time. I just thought we’d go there early so you can order the most complicated cocktail on the menu and watch someone else make it.”

“I am hardly that pitiless,” Bilbo snorted and shot back up as if pulled by a string. “I am all ready. Let’s go!”

In the end, Thorin did convince Bilbo to order a fancy cocktail while ordering a beer for himself.

“Bottle of that one,” Bilbo tapped the fancy card laid out in front of him, “I’ve seen what you’ve got on tap, and I think this one will be much better appreciated!”

The barkeeper stared at him for a moment before shrugging and complying.

“Ah, to have one’s own barkeeper,” Thorin sighed contentedly. “This is already a better date than any of the others!”

“Glad to be of service,” Bilbo laughed and moved the basket with peanuts resolutely out of Thorin’s reach. “You’re snacking me out of a home,” he explained with a wink, “and we’re here to have dinner, so I won’t let you ruin your appetite by gorging yourself on nuts! They only put those out because they make you thirsty.”

Staring longingly at the snack, Thorin nodded nonetheless and turned his hungry, intense gaze fully on Bilbo.

While waiting for their table to be ready, they talked about their families, their friends, and their plans in life.

“I’ve always wanted to work with people, you know? I love the bar, but it’s not as if that was all I’ve ever dreamed of…” Bilbo said dreamily, berating himself only vaguely for having downed that cocktail much too fast on an empty stomach—he rarely indulged in alcohol himself as it made him emotional and much too honest.

“I know a guy who works in construction,” Thorin replied candidly. “If you ever want to expand the business, I can give you his card.”

“Sure thing,” Bilbo giggled and leaned back, only to realise—a moment too late—that the barstool did not have a backrest. A broad, strong hand kept him from toppling from his chair though and then, Thorin’s warm breath ghosted along the shell of his ear as he pushed a discreet card over.

“That is your card,” Bilbo snorted after a single glance. “Couldn’t you simply have given me your number?”

“After all the time you’ve spend fiddling with my phone, I think you could have simply saved yours in it!” Thorin shot back, a bit miffed.

“How do you know that I didn’t?”

“I’ve checked.”

There was not much Bilbo could say to that. “All right,” he grinned and pocketed the card. “I’ll call you. About the expansion. And other things. Depending on how this evening goes…No, actually, I think I’ll call you anyway, if only to yell at you!”

“Deal,” Thorin quipped and nodded at someone across the room. “The table is ready.”

Surprise and amazement surged within Bilbo as soon as he saw it—there were slim, white candles and pale pink roses. This truly was a table laid for an intimate date rather than a friendly dinner, and he couldn’t keep his cheeks from warming visibly.

For a single heartbeat, the world seemed to stop in its tracks and every truth he had ever accepted placidly slid out of place—Bilbo suddenly longed for more. He wanted to be brave enough to turn around and simply kiss Thorin, in front of a full restaurant and his extended family, he wanted to expand his business into serving real food and maybe even offering a few rooms for rent, he wanted more than the comfortable life of a well-liked bachelor. He wanted this—this table, this atmosphere, this man—forever.

And then, that uniquely fragile and heart-wrenching moment passed, and they went back to discussing everything and nothing.

When the first course was served, Thorin realised that there had not been a single uncomfortable silence in their conversation and that he felt relaxed and happy instead of tense and miserable in a potentially romantic setting which was the first time in long years.

“So, no news from your ladies?” Bilbo circled back to the subject that haunted him.

“Hmmm? Oh yes, some keep me posted about their life. I am a great listener and a cool friend to have,” Thorin replied easily, snatching a piece of bread out of the basket Bilbo had tried to move out of his direct line of sight.

“I know,” Bilbo commented dryly and gave the breadbasket back with an apologetic shrug.

“It’s all the same,” Thorin explained slowly between bites, “friendship and love, I mean. Most of the time, it just doesn’t click and then you’re better off as friends, wouldn’t you agree? No need to throw the baby out with the bathwater.”

Bilbo nodded cautiously. “Do you think the opposite can happen as well? Falling in love with a friend?”

Instantly, Thorin’s eyes lit up like a chemical fire. “Isn’t that the dream? Falling in love with a friend and being loved back? That’s what dreams are made of!”

For someone who had just dragged himself through his dates as if bearing a calvary, Bilbo thought. Thorin seemed very convinced of his theory and enthusiastic about the prospect that such a thing could happen to anyone.

“So, there’s still a chance for some of them?” Bilbo couldn’t believe his own words—why couldn’t he just let it go?

“No way,” Thorin immediately assured him. “Romantic, then platonic, then romantic again? I’m afraid that goes a bit too far. No, I just want to find someone I am comfortable with.”

He should not have agreed to the delicious bottle of wine Thorin had ordered and from which a discreet waiter kept filling up their glasses, Bilbo realised at the very moment his treacherous tongue went off like a shot. “Indeed,” he heard himself say, “I am convinced that you deserve so much better than these women. None of them has even tried to get to know you or has cared even one bit about whether you wanted a refill or were hungry, or bored, or uncomfortable.”

His voice kept growing louder and more animated and yet, Thorin merely grinned at him as if his clumsy rant was pure poetry. He looked so handsome in his white button-down and dark trousers that Bilbo somehow couldn’t stop himself from complaining about how he thought none of the women deserved a second chance as they had failed to express the appropriate level of appreciation for the kind, handsome, and charming man with whom they had had the honour of spending the evening.

“My glass was always full,” Thorin reminded Bilbo gently, “thanks to you. Moreover, you’ve healed my heart by pouring all the compliments you apparently thought I missed out on upon my undeserving head right now.” His sturdy hand came to rest on Bilbo’s pacifyingly. “They are no longer important; let’s talk about something pleasant instead. Did you like your flowers?”

“Of course,” Bilbo replied and nodded his head so vehemently that his curls fanned out like a golden halo. “That was a very nice gesture. What would you like to discuss then?”

Pressing his lips together to prevent any stupid, premature outburst to ruin his chances, Thorin collected his thoughts for a moment; he was astonished and delighted to notice that he had indeed learned something during the martyrdom of his recent dating history.

He also found that he didn’t really care at all—his tense shoulders relaxed, and his smile softened gradually as the stress of the last weeks just melted away. “Anything is fine by me, anything but them. What do you have planned for this weekend?”

“Work,” Bilbo snorted. “As any other day. I’ve thought about maybe trying to get a Sunday brunch thing going.” He tapped a finger against his plush, inviting lips pensively.

Thorin’s eyebrows travelled up his forehead as a new idea took hold in his head. “If I come by to look around the premises and tell you what is possible in terms of expansion, I’d take a test-brunch as my payment.”

“Is that so?” Bilbo cocked his head. “It would only be you and me though.”

“It’s only you and me now,” Thorin commented astutely. “Just the way I like things, as it turns out!”

“Well, then, by all means, be my guest. I’ll prepare a spread for you that you won’t forget!”

Somehow, Thorin did not doubt that for a single second. Bilbo was a man who truly enjoyed food; he had become the mesmerised witness of the profound and otherworldly pleasure his guest could take in a well-prepared meal, and he yearned to see that blissed-out expression on Bilbo’s soft, mobile features more often.

There were many things he longed for, now that he came to think of it: the amused little side-glance Bilbo gave him when he got extraordinarily huffy about something utterly irrelevant, the beaming smile a slightly buzzed Bilbo cracked whenever Thorin said something even remotely funny, and—more than anything else—the quiet gaze of solidarity and affection he had caught from the corner of his eye at times. Somehow, Bilbo seemed to intrinsically feel or know just what was needed to save Thorin from a disagreeable situation or an extended session of senseless brooding.

“Any allergies?” Bilbo asked, interrupting Thorin’s realisation that he could not remember ever having enjoyed a date half as much as this dinner.

“Hmm? No…sorry, I was miles away in my thoughts.”

“I could tell. Are you tired, do you want to skip dessert?” Bilbo asked gently, patting Thorin’s hand to make him understand that he was neither angry nor disappointed. “I feel like I’ve eaten my own weight already anyway.”

“Maybe,” Thorin replied with a wink, “next time? I have been told that Bombur’s chocolate soufflé is to die for.”

Bilbo’s eyes lit up at the word “soufflé” and, true to his nature, he didn’t need any more convincing or coaxing after that.

“By the way, I am not tired, no,” Thorin said when he saw a thickly laden spoon full of gooey deliciousness be ensconced firmly between Bilbo’s lips. “I was just thinking how much I like being here with you.”

“You don’t think I am a gluttonous pig?” Bilbo mouthed around his spoon, his eyes twinkling with good cheer and sugar-fuelled ecstasy.

“I don’t,” Thorin assured him; he had never given the gender of his potential partners much thought before. He had always surmised that he was just the kind of man who was only attractive to a select group of people that kept dwindling fast as the years went by—that set had been comprised of mainly women by chance or accident thus far, and Thorin had had no say in the matter or reason to contest that.

If that was about to change now, he thought placidly, he wouldn’t object to changing his habits and adapt his expectations to the reality of his prospects and desires.

Never in a thousand years would he have presumed to find such a comfortable and yet exciting potential lover in a surprisingly prim barkeeper with a wicked sense of humour and a deep love for flavourful food. Bilbo evidently loved life and—seeing him celebrate others’ successes without reticence or envy—reminded Thorin of how much he had sacrificed throughout his own existence.

“You make me feel alive,” he confessed, “the way you eat, the way you talk, the way you smile at me. It’s as if you could turn back the time and make me believe that it’s not too late for me to be happy. Is that cheesy?”

“Yes,” Bilbo nodded, licking his spoon, “but I love cheese. Actually, the olives they served with the bread. Do you know where they get them from?”

“They pickle or brine or marinate them themselves,” Thorin replied sheepishly. “I do not know. I am a mediocre cook.” That was a bold lie; his cooking was positively awful, but he didn’t want Bilbo to know. After this charming evening, Thorin would crawl to his sister and implore her to impart her valuable wisdom to redress that flaw as soon as he could.

“Hmmm, I wonder if they’d share the recipe,” Bilbo mused aloud. For a moment, Thorin was taken in by his casual musings, but then he realised that Bilbo’s eyes were just a smidgen too feverish now even though his initial inebriation had worn off long since.

“What is the matter?”

“Are you playing me, Thorin?” Bilbo asked in a quiet, shivering voice. “I am not like those women; I don’t put my heart on the line recklessly.”

“I am not. Why do you say that?”

“I’ve watched you go on dates with 5 women in about as many weeks,” Bilbo exclaimed, clapping his hand over his trembling lips when a few other stragglers turned to him in startled surprise or outright annoyance. “I…Do you even…”

“I don’t care,” Thorin said firmly, the conviction that he was on the right track constantly growing within his heart. “I just know that you make me feel good about the world, life, and myself. When you’re around, everything seems a little brighter and less fatal than I’ve always thought it’d be, and I want that in my life.”

“A friend,” Bilbo muttered. “I can be your friend—you’re an amazing person to be around and you’re, as always, too hard on yourself. You’re actually not so bad yourself and you’ve been the only source of entertainment these last few weeks—I really have to get something new going to spruce the old dig up.”

Me, Thorin thought desperately. In his mind, he could see it—a crystal clear vision of perfect bliss. He’d come to the bar after work and sit by the counter, telling Bilbo about his day.

His friends could come, and maybe his disastrous dates could become regulars as well, who knew? He certainly wouldn’t mind keeping them in his life as casual acquaintances.

Saturday sessions on the job site, Sunday brunches. Everything—his plans of letting his nephews slowly take over more important clients and bear more responsibility in the firm as well as Bilbo’s designs for his own place—suddenly made sense.

Despite the late hour, Thorin felt invigorated and refreshed as after a long and restful night.

“Bilbo,” he interrupted the frantic babbling about avocado toast and different swatches of pastel colours gently but firmly. “I am not asking you to be my friend.”

Thorin took out his wallet and left a generous tip, knowing that Bombur would send the actual bill to his office for discretion purposes. “Let’s go; it’s a fine night and I think we could both do with a little digestive walk, don’t you think?”

Nodding dumbly, Bilbo allowed himself to insert his hand into the crook of Thorin’s elbow and be led out of the fancy, by now almost entirely empty, restaurant as if he was indeed the guest of honour of the night. A soppy smile struggled to take hold of his mouth and distort it into an unforgivably silly expression of emotion, but he managed to bite it back just in time as Thorin’s luminous gaze fell upon his face.

“Oh, you were made to be seen under the stars,” Bilbo whispered as all the blues, blacks, and silvers of Thorin’s complexion melted into the background of a starry night sky to create an ephemeral work of art that was painted by the hands of fate just for his own momentary enjoyment. “If only I had known—I’d opened the outdoor seating for your dates.”

“Humbug,” Thorin chuckled. “They’d have fallen ill and I’d have had to foot the bill for their medical expenses. Thank you, but no, thank you.”

Steering Bilbo confidently, he took him to an outlook platform over a small river and they felt the cool night air make their hair dance in the fragrant breeze. The whole scene felt absolutely magical and otherworldly to Bilbo who sighed longingly under his breath.

“As much as I love your bar,” Thorin said in a low, vibrating voice, “there are many places I’d want to take a date outside of it. This is but one of those.”

Bilbo hummed patiently, turning up his face to bask in the beauty of his companion—he had only ever seen Thorin in the pub and, now that he had spent a whole evening with him, he had to agree. Indeed, he himself desired to see Thorin in other contexts: illuminated by flickering candlelight and bathed in the pale gleam of the moon, sitting in the blazing afternoon sun…and waking up to the first, shy rays of the nascent morning.

“I think,” Thorin went on, lifting his hand to grip Bilbo’s chin tenderly between his thumb and crooked index, “that I want to take you to those places. Are you game? You don’t have to…I mean…There’s no need to spare my feelings now out of pity only to break my heart later.”

Instantly, Bilbo’s own heart started throbbing in empathy and affection; Thorin had experienced so much rejection and disappointment lately that he came to simply expect that things would end badly for him.

Nonetheless, he had been brave enough to try something completely different and ask out someone who was not at all in the usual pool of potential partners for him—and he had done marvellously. Bilbo could not remember having ever gone on such a beautiful and utterly bewitching date before, and every fibre of his being dreaded the end of this night.

What if it had all been a dream?

“I’d love that,” he replied breathlessly, resolving to match Thorin’s reckless courage and giving in to foolish hope against all odds.

“Good,” Thorin grinned winningly.

A moment later, his lips—warm and sensual—brushed against Bilbo’s in a tentative kiss that felt like a caress and tasted sweet and refreshing like a splash of spring water.

Damn it, Bilbo thought hazily, and threw his arms around Thorin’s neck, giving his massive frame a vigorous tug until they collided in the stillness of the picturesque night scene like two meteors burning across the endless black backdrop.

Their kiss turned feverish, thrumming with words unspoken and questions unasked, while their hands roamed forcefully and desperately across each other’s backs and sides as if in search of something to hold on to as the world spun out of focus.

“I’ll come by on Sunday,” Thorin promised as he finally pulled back; his face radiated with joy in the ambient obscurity and his thumbs brushed caressingly against Bilbo’s shivering ribs. “And I’ve changed my mind about the price of my consultation. A brunch, yes, but also about two thousand more of these kisses. Generous as I am, I shall let you pay them off by regular instalments."

"Sounds like a deal,” Bilbo agreed, dizzy with relief and anticipation. “How about you come by Saturday night and allow me to make a down payment after closing time?”

“Ah, you’ve got a sound mind for business,” Thorin cackled, pulling Bilbo into a tight, warm embrace and leaning his bearded cheek against the top of the curly head of the shorter man tenderly. “I can see that we’ll get along just fine.”

@lordoftherazzles, @mysandwichranaway thank you for your encouragement and your support.

Lots of love from me!

And all my gratitude to the Bagginshielders for having voted so fervently for their OTP; I hope I could bring this story to a satisfactory close for y'all.

#og post #IDNMT writes #fanfiction #writing #tolkien writing #jrrt #TSF #(s)wiped out #Bagginshield #Thorin x Bilbo #Thorin #Bilbo #romantic #fluff #crack

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