#lets not forget that shadow is still a teen. he was just frozen in ice for 50 years or something

[munchboxart]

Source (https://www.hollywoodreporter.com/movies/movie-news/keanu-reeves-joins-sonic-3-shadow-1235874487/)

#i.... dont know how to feel #ive only known keanu from john wick...? idk i didnt watch the full movie. i was on a plane when i watched it #i feel like. keanu is too old for shadow #lets not forget that shadow is still a teen. he was just frozen in ice for 50 years or something #idk i cant imagine it. ill have to hear a voice teaser or smth #idk maybe... stop hiring celebs to do voice acting shit #etc

[overflowing-with-words]

Ooo, you're doing fic requests? Would you consider writing a Ninjago piece with something angsty about Ice Emperor Zane? I've been craving that lately!

sir yes sir, and that's another fic request finished. send more, guys, I only have one left and it's basically done. sorry for the wait!! set after S11,  Zane is no longer the Ice Emperor and is back in Ninjago but still has the memories from when he was.

tw: ptsd, flashbacks, ice, anxiety

zane deals with ptsd from the never-realm, causing him flashbacks. and lloyd, but just a little.

• • •

Faces. That's what Zane remembered most out of all his memories as the Ice Emperor. Faces of the people he captured. Hurt. Froze.

He'd never forget how they looked at him. Like he was the monster that lived in their nightmares, the devil who lurked in the dark shadows.

He probably was their biggest fear. That part hurt the most—

"-ne. Zane!" Jay called, breaking him out of his thoughts. "Are you okay?" he asked, deep brown eyes filled with concern.

Zane forces a small smile towards the lighting ninja. "Sorry, Jay. I was...thinking about something."

"Okay, well, we better get to training." Jay said, returning his smile.

"You are right. We should go." Zane responded, grateful the other teen hadn't questioned deeper.

Their footsteps echoed across the empty hallway they were following, and Zane was eerily reminded of the wide, hollow castle he'd lived in for so many years.

Reaching the training rooms, Jay pushed the doors open, dark hazel wood creaking slightly.

"Hey, you guys are late." Lloyd said, looking up. His eyes found Zane, and his sensors picked up a rising heartbeat. He allowed a small smile at him, and it slowed.

"Uh, Master Wu said we were practicing sticks today." Lloyd nodding towards a pile of a sticks leaning against the opposite wall,

"Staffs, Lloyd, not sticks-" Kai cut in.

"Okay, okay, staffs, whatever-" Lloyd interrupted him, rolling his eyes.

This all went unheard to the ice ninja, staring at the weapons, lost in thought. Staffs. He hadn't picked one up ever since the day he returned from the Never-Realm. Not even anything remotely like one.

Jay was fiddling around with them, finally picking out two and walking back to him.

"Here." He hands Zane the staff absentmindedly, still distracted by something else.

The weapon felt familiar in his hands. Way, way too familiar. His memories dragged him back to just a few weeks ago, when-

His fingers tightened around the frigid metal, raising it above his head. Ice cracked sharply around his grip, already frozen for years, decades on end. A blast of magic flew out from the staff's head, and-

"Zane?" He snapped out of the dream- no, memory, and blinked, world in blurry darkness for a second.

His teammates stared at him, gazes full of worry. And fear, he saw.

With a start, Zane realized he'd broken the staff, splintered half lying on the ground.

"I-" He stuttered weakly, thoughts muddled and confused. He dropped the other half, wood clattering loudly against the floor in the silent room, and backs out the door.

How could he have let himself slip like that?

• • •

A month after the accident, winter visited Ninjago. Jay and Kai were pressed up against the window, watching the heavy snow fall. The rest of the team were spread out around the living room, engaged in a video game.

"Guys, it's snowing even more now!" Jay exclaimed, pointing out the window. Cole sighed heavily, putting down his controller.

"I know, you're only said that three times before." He said pointedly, and the screen suddenly flickered and flashed, digital bomb exploding in the game. Cole's avatar was thrown out of his car, flopping onto the ground humorously. Lloyd laughed in victory, lifting his headset off his ears. Nya put down her controller

"I won!" He said proudly, and Cole gaped at him, jaw falling open in dramatic shock. "You little- I was talking to Jay!" Lloyd shook his head, crossing his arms. "How is that my fault?"

"Oh, I'm going to-" Cole scrambled up from his seat on the wood floors, and the other teen stood up from the sofa hurriedly, blanket falling off his lap in his hurry. Zane leant down to pick it up, folding it neatly again while Cole chased Lloyd out of the living room.

"Okay, I'm going out."Jay decided, sliding the curtains across the window. "Why not see the snow in real life?"

"It's still snowing, you might catch a cold." Zane interjected, twitching a corner of the curtain open and looking out.

"It's fine, it's like, lighter now!" Jay defended himself, and Zane gave him a look, seeing that the snowfall outside was heavier if anything.

"We'll be fine," Kai said, pushing the lighting ninja out the door. "Go-get out of here. Wanna come, Zane?" He asked absentmindedly, picking up a abandoned jacket off the ground.

"I want to come!" Lloyd chirped excitedly, appearing at the doorway next to Jay. The brunette  jumped back in surprise, crashing into Kai standing behind him.

"How did you get here?" He shrieked, and Lloyd grinned mischievously. "Uh, ninja skills? Did you forget those exist?" He snickered, adding a afterthought. "Actually, I think you do forget those exist."

"What's this? Bully A Jay Day?"

"Everyday is Bully A Jay Day."

A disgruntled fire ninja picked himself off the floor, annoyed. "Out, both of you." He ordered, and they traipsed out the door obediently, chattering excitedly to each other.

"I'm making a snowman-""I'm making a snow family-" Their voices faded away, Kai tugging on a jacket before following them out. Zane put down his book, deciding to follow them out. He did love the snow, after all.

Once he's outside, he sees the sparkling white covering the earth and is convinced he made the right decision. It's so beautiful, after all. Lloyd is being chased around the courtyard by Jay for whatever reason, and the small boy slips against a small frozen puddle, landing with a small 'oof."

"Now who doesn't have ninja skills?" Jay shouts triumphantly at him, and Zane smiles amusedly, walking over to help him up. He holds out a hand, and Lloyd reaches up gratefully, expression changing mid second. To fear.  His gaze is looking a million miles away, and it sends him back to the memories of—

—Lloyd watching his slow movements with wide eyes, unbelieving, as General Vex taunts him. A jagged edge of ice traps him unmoving on the floor, as the Ice Emperor approaches closer. He feels the power, the frigid cold power building up in the scepter, and it is almost about to-

"-protect yourself, hm?" His general's cruel voice cuts in, and the Emperor blinks, slowly. Protect. Protect the those who cannot protect themselves.

You were built to protect those who cannot protect themselves.

His memories slam back into him like a wall, smashing whatever hold the scepter has held over him these past few years—no, decades, decades of surviving in the icy wastelands, of holding the awful, terrible scepter, of hurting people—

The world fades back in around him, and he blinks, legs suddenly feeling like they can't hold him up on the ground.  Lloyd is looking with him with wide eyes, now standing next to the nindroid. He can feel the other's stares piercing them behind him, the grounds now silent.

"Are you okay, Zane?" The teen says, words coming out as white mist, clouding his face.

"My apologies." He straightens up, forcing a small reassuring smile onto his face.  "I was distracted."

The snow littering the courtyard around him suddenly seems less bright, and everywhere he looks,  he can only remember the plain white of the Never-Realm.

His fingers have gone numb, and he flexes them instinctively, confused when they don't move. A block of ice encases each of his hands, and he automatically panics, smashing them against the wall besides him.

The ice shatters immediately and splinters onto the ground, sharp shards flying everywhere. Lloyd flinches behind him, and he redraws his hands quickly, sliding them into his coat pocket.

"Sorry." He says dazedly, hurrying into the monastery, and leaving behind the three confused ninja. Once inside, the reality of what just happens sinks into him, and he leans against the wall, head spinning hazily.

Nindroids weren't supposed to mess up like this.

Not ever.

Somehow, someway, he hadn't returned from the Never-Realm the same, Zane realized. Memories were forcefully taking him into flashbacks from the smallest things, powers malfunctioning.

He was broken.

#zane julien #zane #the ice ninja #master of ice #ptsd fic #flashbacks #memories #angst #ninjago #ninjago fanfic #ninjago one-shot #slightly proud #thanks for reading! #send more fic requests y'all im craving angst and I can only come up with so many ideas on my own

[arcadianstuff]

“School rivals” p.t3

Here’s the penultimate part to the series. Hope you enjoy ! Reminder that requests are open !!

“My head....” A grunt left your mouth as one hand cradled your throbbing head - which wasn’t the only part of you in pain.

Stiff and aching, your back was pressed against something cold which you quickly realised, as you started to open your eyes and take in your surroundings, was the floor. It was uneven and rocky under your fingers, as you pushed yourself up into a sitting position.

“Where am I ?....” your voice echoed in the darkness. A little light appeared to be coming from overhead, and it was just bright enough for you to make out long thick steel bars in front of you. It appeared you were in some type of prison cell.

Fear started to creep in as you recalled the events that had led up to now. Monsters, Douxie, running home for Jim, fainting and now here you were trapped somewhere.

‘Ouch’ the throbbing in your head increased, and a sticky red substance covered your hand when you reached round to cradle it.

‘Blood from an injury and no memory of how I got here....this was done by someone...’ the dots weren’t too hard to connect in this case. The monsters and magic was hard to grasp but this you could do. Anyways you were the smart one in the family, taking after your mother. Poor Jim well he got the nice baby blue eyes.

“Who’s there ?!” Angry and in pain you screamed out into the darkness, banging on the metal cell bars that kept you locked up.

Fear for your brother and his friends overpowered you. They weee caught up in this somehow and you would protect them. Maybe you’d even protect Douxie. The punk rock douche has saved your life after all with....with magic....woah.

“Well aren’t you a loud one....” out of the darkness two figures approached, a demonic voice speaking.

“Wh-What are you ?” There appearances took you aback, freaking you out.

“We are the eldricht terrors human. The eldest of magical creatures. For centuries we have watched over mortal and magic alike.” The female of the two spoke, her voice raspy and full of hatred.

As they approached closer you shrunk back a little, wanting to put a bit of space between you and them.

“Well good for you guys but why am I here ?” Your sarcastic tone took them aback. Never had a human spoken to them in such a rude manner. They could see you were scared, skin paling out of fear, yet you were being defiant.

“Watch your tone human. You’re at our mercy don’t forget that.” With a zap, a jolt of fire like energy was sent straight at you, which you only dodged by inches.

“Looks like you missed.” You snarled back, falling backwards onto your butt as the quieter one approached you.

“Listen girl we only need you alive to lure in the troll hunter, it doesn’t matter whether you are unharmed or not.” As if to prove his point he sent a powerful knife like slice of cold air straight at you. Tiny cuts opened across your arms and legs, a stinging sensation emitting from them.

‘H-how ?....’ you let out a whimper at the pain as the two magical beings cackled; they left you in the darkness of your prison as they turned and strolled away.

“Please help me....someone...” you cradled your wounds as you crept back into a corner, and laid your head against the rocky wall.

Your eyes begun to droop yet you didn’t feel sleepy, but the wound in the back of your head was hurting tenfold. Not thinking about the consequences, you let your eyes close and sleep overcome you.

———————————

“Douxie !” Claire’s shouts of relief alerted the young wizard, who’d been panting heavily knelt on the floor, as he’d finished off all the gumm gumms.

It took a lot of magical energy to kill them all and they’d gotten in a few good punches. Douxie was sure they would leave some gnarly scars. The bastards.

Claire rushed to give Douxie a hug, not as gentle as he would’ve liked as her arms held him a little too tightly.

“Can’t breathe Claire.” He wheezed out, to which the young sorceress immediately let him go rubbing the back of her head sheepishly.

Jim approached him and held out his hand, the pair greeted each other, Douxie clasping Jim’s hand. Douxie was relieved to see Jim here, as it meant you must have arrived at your house safely and warned him. You were safe. Or do they thought.

“What happened here ?” Jim asked, looking around the half destroyed soccer field where the stony remains of a few gumm gumm warriors were scattered.

“Gumm Gumm attacks. I managed to take them all down. Did (y/n) get to you ? I told her to run and get you guys.” Douxie became a little panicked as he asked about you, which caused Claire to smirk a little.

Sure you guys acted like you hated each other but she could tell there was some serious crushing going on. The pair of you were just too stubborn.

“Yeah (y/n)’s back home safe. Thank you for protecting her.” Jim’s gratitude was sincere, and the friendship between him and Douxie was only strengthening now that they shared another person that they cared about.

Barely alive, a gumm gumm warrior began to crawl towards the group of teens and trolls, dragging himself by his last remaining arm.

“Thats what you think...” the creature wheezed, coughing in between words as it spoke, clearly about to die.

Full of hatred Douxie aimed his wizards staff at the monster, eyes glowing blue as he was about to attack. However before he could end its life, Jim placed a hand over his staff, lowering it a little. He wanted to hear what the troll was going to say.

“What do you mean ?” Curious and starting to get worried Claire asked the dying troll.

“This was all a distraction. To get who we really came here for....” and with that the last sentence, the troll died . It’s body completely turned to stone.

A horrible realisation dawned on the group, turning their boood to ice as they began to comprehend what was going on.

“(Y-y/n)..” Jim’s voice wobbled a he whispered, suddenly understanding what was going on.

They’d come here for you. To take you away.

“We need to go now !” Douxie yelled, starting to lose any sense of calm and cool that he had now knowing that you were in grave danger.

He couldn’t lose you. No matter how many times you pissed him off, argued with him or snarled at him he still cared for you. It was part of the reason why he liked you so much.

“On it !” With a swing of her shadow staff Claire opened a portal, which swirled in the air.

Without hesitation, Douxie and Jim both ran into the inky darkness, the pair desperately hoping you were in your home. Arrgh and Blinky followed Toby and Claire as they rushed in after them, with only one last glance behind them at the decimated soccer field.

—————

“She’s gone...” Muttering in disbelief, Jim fell to his knees next to the spot where he’d left you.

His big sister was gone, taken by his worst enemies. God knows what they were doing to you. He’d left you here by yourself because he didn’t think you were important, that you had anything to do with this. It was selfish of him. How many times had you protected him ? And yet he couldn’t protect you once.

What would he tell his mum ?

“It’s not your fault Jim.” Standing next to her boyfriend, Claire placed a consoling hand on his shoulder. She too was upset that you’d been taken, but was also worried about Jim’s mental state.

“Actually love it is his fault.” Douxie clutched his wizard staff tightly, knuckles turning white from the force. He was angry. No furious. He’d sent you here where it was safe, so you’d be protected and yet they’d let you be taken.

You weren’t magic, you didn’t have an amulet or a hammer, for the love of Merlín you didn’t even know this entire other world existed until tonight.

“Douxi-“ Claire started, not liking the tone her teacher and friend was taking.

“It is his fault Claire. I told (y/n) to come here because I thought you’d keep her safe and now look she’s gone ! And who knows where !” He’d raised his voice now, starting to shout as blue swirls of magic began to spiral around his staff.

“Hisirdoux my boy you need to calm down.” Sensing tension,Blinky stepped in to play the parental role, voice calm and steady as to try and quell the young wizard's temper.

“Listen to him Douxie. We will get (y/n) back.” In dragon form, Archie flew up to Douxie looking him in the eye.

For a second, Douxie started to feel his temper cool, anger dissipating, until Jim turned on him with a furious glare.

“Actually it’s you fault ! You shouldn’t have sent her here by herself ! And why do you even care ? You hate my sister !” Shrugging Claire’s hand off his shoulder, Jim marched up to Douxie, sword in hand.

Terrified if losing you and angry at himself for leaving you unprotected, Jim was becoming unpredictable and too emotional. He’d feel no remorse if he got into a fight with Douxie.

“You shouldn’t have left her unguarded ! And I don’t hate her !” Douxie rose his staff to point at Jim’s face, as he readied himself for a fight.

Jim’s sword swung down and clashed with the staff, the two now pushing all their force against their weapons as they collided. The screeching sound of metal against metal filled the tense room. Nobody else moved, all frozen.

“Why dont you just leave her alone ? You guys are always arguing ! Clearly you hate each other ?!” Jim was saying anything at this point, not thinking clearly as he just wanted a way to rid himself of his anger.

“Because I love her !” A blast of blue magical energy shot out of Douxie’s staff and collided with Jim, sending him flying until his back collided with a wall.

“Hey !”

“Jim !”

“Not cool man.”

Toby and Claire rushed to Jim’s side, who was cradling his head in pain, whilst Blinky held back Arrrgh who looked quite ready to squish Douxie.

“I-I’m so sorry.” Shocked at what he’d done, Douxie tried to apologise, voice cracking as he stared at the damage he’d caused.

More than that he’d also admitted he loved you. Bloody hell he said he loved you.

‘I love her....’

Surprisingly, being knocked back by Douxie had helped clear Jim’s mind, the pain from the impact quelled his growing anger. And when he looked up and saw how distraught Douxie looked, he could tell the wizard cared about you as much as he did.

“Im okay guys.” He smiled up at his girlfriend and best friend who were fretting over him. With a gentle nudge, he pushed their hands away and stood up.

“Douxie we can’t keep on blaming each other. I care about (y/n) too, she’s my sister, if we work together we can get her back.” Jim offered his hand to the wizard, a sign of friendship and forgiveness.

Douxie hesitated for a second, he felt guilt over attacking Jim, and also uncertainty over whether he could save you.

‘You’re a master wizard now Douxie, apprentice to Merlín no longer, you can save her.’

“Lets save (y/n).” He said determined as he clasped Jim’s hand, their friendship restored.

“Umm guys, soooooo how do we find (y/n) ?” Toby’s question interrupted the moment and silence filled the room as they all thought.

You’d been taken and they didn’t know by who or why or where. It seemed impossible.

“I’ve got it. We’ll create a seeing mirror.” Douxie cheered as he figured out a solution.

The others though were very confused.

“A What ?”

“A seeing mirror can be created using a bowl of water, magic and the sacrifice of an item the person holds dear. It’ll allow us to see (y/n) and hopefully we’ll be able to see where she is.”

“Okay I’ll grab the bowl of water.” Claire rushed into the kitchen followed by Blinky whilst Jim ran up the stairs into your room.

He knew exactly what item to get. Sitting on your table was a framed photo of you, Jim and Barbara. It was taken five years ago in New York City, on holiday. For the first time in years your mum had cleared some time out of her schedule to take you guys on holiday. It started your love of travel and want to explore more of the world.

Jim hesitated for a moment, looking at the smiling face of his older sister. For so long he felt like he’d lived in your shadow. The perfect student, soccer captain and loved by all. Then he’d found the amulet and finally felt like he had a place in this world - something more. But now it appeared it might have cost him his sister.

“Okay water check, magic check now Jim pass me the item.” Douxie held out his hand as Jim gave him the photo. Your smile in the photo was enough to make Douxie grin.

‘Always so beautiful love” Douxie thought to himself, though he knew if he said that to you in real life you’d roll your eyes and tell him that he flirted with everyone. Gods he missed you.

A tense silence filled the room as the others gathered round Douxie, who began to chant a quiet incantation. Ripples appeared in the bowl of water as blue magic started to swirl around the bowl, Douxie’s incantation increasing in volume and then he stopped. Holding the photo above the bowl, a flicker of fire spread form Douxie’s fingers to the photo which burnt to a crisp. The ashes descended upon the water, and suddenly an image started to form.

“I-it’s (y/n) !” Toby yelled out in surprise, pointing wildly at your figure, which could now be seen across the water’s surface.

“She’s hurt....” Claire gasped as they could now see your limp form. You weren’t moving at all and as Jim leaned in closer he could see blood speckled along your skin and covering your clothes.

“(Y/n) !” He shouted as he noticed someone approaching, their shadow casting a dark glow across your face.

“She can’t hear you.” Douxie said, gripping the table tightly in anger, as he saw how much pain you were in. Somebody had done this to you and the prat would pay.

“Quiet everyone.” Blinky ordered as he noticed a cloaked figure appear. Their skin was blue, and ice began to form around their fingertips.

“It’s Skrael.” Claire whispered, shocked as she realised the Arcane Order had taken you.

“The Arcane Order have taken (y/n).” Douxie said, patience running out as the spell started to fade. He could no longer concentrate. These monsters hadn’t just taken away his home, his Merlín but now you.

Hatred and anger made his blood boil and he wasn’t the only one who was upset and angry. Claire was holding Jim, who looked completely defeated whilst Arrrgh hugged Toby who’d started sniffling. However Blinky did not appear as upset as the others, instead he was pondering over soemtning.

The prison you were trapped in looked like a cave that he’d seen before....

“I think I know where to find miss (y/n)....”

—————-

Hope you liked it !!!! Part 4 ???

#douxie x reader #trollhunters #douxie #tales of arcadia #toa #toa douxie #toa wizards #troll hunters #hisirdoux casperan #hisirdoux casperan x reader

[thewitchofnaboo]

By the Golden light Chap 2: The Wolves at the Door.

Rated: Mature, 18+(eventually for now this chapter is G rated set-up)

Warning: None.

A/N:Still a build-up chapter. This is also at almost 2k word count so I didn’t want it to drag on too long! We are introduced to the Queen and some teasing in this chapter. Sorry for the long wait, turns out working nights really saps the life outta you. Neira belongs to @jangofctts​ !!

  “So you want me, to abandon these talk to what? Babysit the queen of one of the federations most secure trade planets? They are under no danger from the war. Even our enemy knows that going as Tesilia would be foolish, their natural ice storms are far too dangerous for a full scale assault.”

 “The Queen suspects her life is in danger. Without her support I fear her brother would turn the planets loyalty towards the enemy. She is instrumental in our continued supply lines to the troops. We cannot lose her, or her supply.”

 You swear you catch Padme smile as she turns from you; “She trusts you. You were the only name she accepted when I extended our hand. Unfortunately, A clone squad would draw far too much attention to the issue. Of course I suggested a Jedi, but the planet still insists on carrying the rich tradition of distrust for the Jedi council.”

 Padme’s voice is warm as she makes her way back toward you, eyes bright and determined. Taking your hands with a gentle smile, you are reminded gently of the little girl, face white with a galaxy on her shoulders. So simple a gesture, with so much power behind it.

 “So be it.”

 Neira steps forward, and had you not been so used to watching for the little things, you may have missed the conspiratorial, minute smile on her and Padme’s faces as she closes in.

 “Before you go off to save the galaxy, you and Captain Typho should know something.” She beckons said man over to your side, her face almost comically serious.

 “In order to avoid suspicion or drawing attention you will be going with Captain Typho as your bodyguard. Until we figure out who is threatening the life of the queen and her heirs, you’ She looks to Typho, “Will be her shadow.” Your small protest is ignored, and Typho simply nods. This is old hat to him, guarding people who’d chew through steel to protect and serve the world before he could even lift a blaster.

  “We want you to be safe as well my friend. There is a reason why Senator Admidala and I entrust you both to care for each other, and save the future of our shared alliances with Tesilia.”

  Tesilia may be a staple of supply lines in peace times, and imperative towards the war effort. But it was also, quite frankly, colder than a Jedi’s tit.

 You’d spent months here as a teen, clutching at the elbow of your former mentor, with chattering teeth and frozen fingers.

  It seems the planets weather hasn’t gotten any less miserably bitter in the interim. You swear your eyelashes begin to freeze as soon as you step off your ship. The warm downy furs you both are draped in doing little to save you from the howl of Tesilia’s famous winds.

 “I think this is why the Senators didn’t want to come. They just didn’t want to freeze.” You glance conspiratorially at Typho as some of the Queens servants shuffle towards you, grabbing your bags from your ship with little pomp and cursory bows of acknowledgment.

 The huff of his laugh, somewhere behind the thick collar of his coat is almost enough to distract from the ice of your toes. Part of you thaws, as he crowds into your space, lips dipping low to make sure you hear him over the hum of the transporter, the winds, and your layers of clothing.

 “Why do you think she waited until the Equinox? When she knew she knew they couldn’t leave Naboo?”

 He’s so close, breath ghosting intimately close to your ear, that if you were to turn you would reach the corner of his lips. He’s so warm against your shoulder, broad shoulders light against your own. It’s dizzying, and only the beckoning of the servants stops you from giving in.

 The quick ride is enough to slip back into the shell you have so carefully curated. You slip into it like a well worn glove, shoulders pulling back like a taught string. Your steps are calm, ignoring the size of the Captains hands as he helps you step onto the palace grounds.

 Tesilia may be a bitter, unforgiving planet full of some of the harshest windstorms this side of Hoth. But it also had two things; hidden past harsh asteroid fields and blistering winds. A rich storied culture of art, and some of the most unique flora and fauna you had ever the joy of seeing.

Trees thousands hands high, with crystalline branches and twisting trunks.

 Blue grass that, if you remember correctly, was so soft you’d swear it was the down of a birds feathers. Large fragrant flowers that served for food of the populaces transport animals. Some of which, fat with age and a spoiled life of a pet were roaming free among the gardens. Much of the planets beauty is visible here, behind gilded gates and open grounds.

 Following behind the servant sent to take you to the throne room, you cannot hide the awe as you enter the palace. It seems to have only grown more beautiful in your time away.

 Wall to ceiling stained glass. Tempered to withstand the wind covers the foyer in shades of the rainbow. Framed with intricately carved floors, thousands of years old. Carved stone tapestries depicting the royal family and the resolute nature of the common people working together decorate the walls. It was truly one of the most well hidden gems of the mid-rim.

  Queen Naulis is the topper to the planets beauty. A six foot seven Twi'lek with eyes like gold. Her muscular frame draped in furs so black they shimmer with the harsh reflection of the sun. Her smile upon seeing you is blinding.

 You can’t help but return it, your stoic mask slipping away at the sight of your childhood companion. Old friends seem rarer by the day in this war. Her warmth washes over you as you both run to meet on another.

 Your true purpose for being here will be discussed later. Behind closed doors and hushed voices. Here and now you are two old friends linked by stressful childhoods. It’s humbling to feel, your bond is still so strong, even of the distance of time. It leaves such a warmth in your heart that you know you will carry the joy on her face till the end of your days.

 “You couldn't have better timing my dear little Ember.” As she embraces you, your childhood nickname on her lips, you take note of the fear in her voice.

You catch eyes with the Captain as he rounds your shoulder,  drawing her attention with a regal bow. The concern in his gaze lets you know that he too, heard her fear. It seems you will have your work cut out for you.

 “I promise that you will be at the forefront of our celebrations. I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

 “Of course your highness. It’s been too long since I’ve seen the guiding lights of the solstice. I imagine my Captain will never forget the sight.” You force her attention to Typho, and he to his credit doesn't even flinch at the blinding nature of her smile.

“Ah! So you are the Captain my little ember speaks so warmly of!”

You bristle slightly as she mentions that you have, in fact, discussed the captain with her. At length.

 “It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance your Highness. I do hope my lady’s warm words were kind.” He seems oddly amused at being spoken of-a laugh in his voice. Oh. He’s teasing you. Kriff. Perhaps you were terrible at hiding your affections.

“Yes. Yes. Captain Typho is a true pride of Naboo. I could not feel safer with him at my side.” You still refuse to meet his eye, or Naulis’ at the moment. But your tone is true, embarrassment in your belly or not.

 “So Padme and Neira Tell me! I look forward to your shared company!” Suddenly she claps her hands on both of your shoulders, startling you with the force. “I imagine you are hungry and tired from your journey! The flight past our Ice and Asteroid fields is no easy feat!” With a nod towards the guards at the Throne doors the Queen begins to lead you our of the throne room. Her grip slips from your shoulders and round your elbows, never leaving you or Typho. You try not to notice the shake of her hand. You can't help but grip it as you near the dining hall.

  You are glad it was you that had been sent to protect her. She is not an easy woman to scare. You'd never known her to to show fear.

  With a clasp of your hand she finally moves from between you and opens the dining hall with a flourish. The strength back in her shoulders. She's a wonderful actress.

“Come! We feast!”

 Feast indeed. The wolves of Naulis family sat round the table, ready to meet you. Fangs and all.

The work begins.

#captain typho x reader #gregar typho x reader #SW oc x reader #jangofctts

[kumeko]

A/N: Written for the BBRaven zine, which was unfortunately cancelled. I wanted to do an older version of them, when they finally get to retire and just be, as opposed to saving the world every afternoon.

…

…

…

…

Children shrieked, their high-pitched voices filling the summer air, and Raven almost summoned her shadows out of habit. A peek outside her living room window confirmed what she already knew: Garfield was babysitting the kids again. Or rather, a lumbering green rhino was babysitting the kids.

There was a reason he was their favourite uncle.

Taking a deep breath, Raven stepped back from the window, calming down the darkness that swirled within her. A lifetime of super-heroing had made her training almost instinct now, and it took more than five years of retirement to change that. Especially when retirement had an asterisk next to it, with everyone from the newest batch of Teen Titans to the latest iteration of the Justice League calling them every other week for help.

Fortunately, today wasn’t one of those days. Going back to the couch, she opened her book again. She only had a few days—

“I’M GOING TO GET YOU,” Garfield roared, his voice reverberating through the room.

 —before she had to return it to the library and—

 “Hide, Lian!” Ma’ri Grayson shouted in a panic.

 —she was at the climax, where they were planning on catching the killer—

 “Not fair, ‘ncle Garry!” Jai West grumbled, slightly out of breath.

 —and it looked like today she was definitely not going to finish the story. Again. With a sigh, she slipped her bookmark in place and set the book down. She’d just have to renew it once more. Hopefully no one else wanted it; at the pace she was going it’d be a year before she finished it.

 Accepting her fate, Raven stepped out onto the porch and leaned against the railing to watch. Garfield was now a gaunt bear, shaking his head with a silly grin as he stalked through the grass. Just in front of him, Iris and Jai West were running from him. At six, the twins were the oldest and the fastest of the bunch, hints of their father’s powers exhibited by the short bursts of speed as they sprinted around Garfield.

��“This way!” Iris yelled, charging at Garfield’s flank.

 Garfield laughed, his lips curled back revealing a row of sharp teeth. Unintentionally, Raven was sure, but the appearance was intimidating nonetheless. “Try again!” He swatted lazily at his side.

 “Watch out!” Jai tried to stop but tripped over his feet instead. As he fell, he latched onto Iris’s leg too, sending her sprawling face-first on the ground.

 “It’ll take more than that!” Garfield boasted, slowly padding up to the pair. The twins scrambled to their feet as they tried to escape. In their haste, they only bumped into one another, tangling them together.

 Giggling erupted from behind a shaking bush and Raven spotted the bright green eyes of five-year-old Ma’ri as she giggled. She covered her mouth hastily when Garfield slowly turned toward her. He squinted at the bush. “Is there a little girl in there?”

 “No!” Ma’ri declared, giggles still escaping her.

 “I don’t know, that sounds like a little girl.” He took a step forward and the bush rustled some more.

 Before Garfield could do anything, the baby of the group, Lian Harper burst out of the bushes. Hands outstretched, she ran straight at him. “Here! Here!”

 A toddler, she didn’t fully understand the game beyond running. Frozen in surprise, Garfield watched as she got closer and closer, until she grabbed his head. Garfield stared at her wide smile. “Huh?”

 “Now!” Not one to miss an opportunity, the twins attacked him again.

 Ma’ri burst out of the bushes, joining them. Weak starbolts hit his flank and the twins pummeled his side. Raven winced as Garfield let out a pained bellow before slowly collapsing the ground. “I give! I give!”

 Resting her cheek on a hand, Raven tried not to laugh. Fully claiming their prize, the kids started to climb on Garfield like he was a giant, bear mountain. Even Lian joined in, her chubby fingers pulling on his fur as she tried to climb up his head. Raven applauded lightly, congratulating the children. “Good job.”

 “Thanks, Auntie!” Iris grinned, already on Garfield’s back.

“Raven?” Garfield looked up at the porch. Gently, he started to rise, rolling his shoulders and slowly shaking his back as he tried to get up. “Alright, alright, break time.”

 “But we won!” Ma’ri whined, clinging to him tightly. When he gave a gentle shake, she dug in harder. “We’re suppose’d to get a ride!”

 Garfield sat down, letting Iris and Jai slip down his back like it was a furry slide. “But I’m tireeeed,” he complained, letting a long tongue loll out of his snout. Looking every part a silly bear, he glanced balefully at Ma’ri. “Just a little break?”

 Ma’ri crossed her arms, face scrunched up as she considered it. “You promise.”

 “I promise,” he repeated solemnly.

 She squinted harder at him before finally giving a consenting nod. “Fine.”

 Finally free of the children, Garfield transformed back into a middle-aged man. Despite his fears from their various meddling with the future, he hadn’t ended up pot-bellied and balding. Maybe he wasn’t as fit as he used to be and there was a touch of grey to his temple, but while she had never considered Garfield particularly handsome, age had given him a more dignified look. The few times she’d told him so, he’d given her a wide, ear-splitting grin, looking just as he had when they were teenagers and still getting to know each other.

 Just like he was smiling now, his eyes lighting up as he jogged to the porch. “Raven!”

 She shuffled over, giving him space to stand next to her. “All four of them again?”

 “Yeah.” Garfield sighed, drooping over the railing. Small beads of sweat littered his skin and he moaned. “And they’re so big now! Those hits hurt.”

 “Are you sure you’re not getting slower?” Raven half-teased, patting him lightly on the back.

 “Not you too.” Pouting, Garfield looked at her. His cheeks were puffed up like a chipmunk’s and not for the first time she wondered if some animal traits were just permanently grafted into his DNA, stuck there from overuse. “Batman said he could hit me in his sleep. In his sleep.”

 Raven smiled wryly, picturing the latest incarnation of Batman. Despite how much Dick had tried to soften up Damian Wayne, there was too much of his mother’s bite in him. “He probably could.”

 Garfield opened his mouth to protest. Thinking better of it, he rested his forehead against the railing once more and groaned. “Okay, sure, that’s true—he’s an assassin. He could probably kill me without blinking and holy crap, why do we have so many criminals on our side.” He stood up straight, counting off their friends on his fingers. “There’s Rose, Damian, Cassandra, I definitely count Jason—”

 “We’re really good at reforming people.” Gently, Raven folded his fingers in, disrupting his thoughts before they could go any further. Before he started going in the reverse. Time healed all injuries and while Terra’s name no longer hurt like an open wound, it still ached to think of her. Of what could have been.

 “Yeah.” Garfield grinned cockily, intertwining their hands. He squeezed lightly. “We’re real good at second chances.”

 She looked away, the tips of her ears hot. Despite the years they’d been together, he still somehow was able to make her react like this. “Yeah.”

 He affectionately shoulder bumped her before turning his attention back to the yard. The twins were giving Lian piggyback rides, taking turns as they zipped around. Next to a particularly thick patch of dandelions, Ma’ri was building a flower crown. “You don’t think Vic’s gonna have a kid soon, do you? I don’t think I can handle five.”

 “You don’t have to babysit them all at once, you know,” Raven pointed out dryly.

 “I guess.” Garfield perked up as he realized something. “Wait, with five we could have a basketball team.” He leaned back, only his grip on the railing keeping him from falling. “We could conquer the neighbourhood!”

 There were practically stars in his eyes when he turned to her and she tried not to get caught up in his enthusiasm. “They might not like basketball.”

 “Ice cream can solve that,” he stated matter-of-factly, completely confident of his solution. Resting on the railing, he studied their friends’ children. “Jai and Iris could be offense, Ma’ri defense, and Lian…” He winced. “Um…well, maybe she has Roy’s aim. Vic’s kid will have to be an all-rounder.”

 Raven glanced at him, then at the kids playing on their lawn. Despite all of his complaints, Garfield really loved babysitting. Loved kids. There was a glaring omission from his list and she tightened her grip on the rail. Softly, she asked, “Do you regret it?”

“Hmm?” Blinking, Garfield stared at her. When she didn’t add anything, he cocked his head and scratched his chin sheepishly. “Did I forget to buy milk again?”

 “No, not that.” Raven took a deep breath. Watching him carefully, she clarified. “That…we won’t have kids.” That years ago, she had asked him for a single promise and his smile hadn’t wavered when he’d agreed. She lowered her eyes.

 Garfield’s eyes widened, his expression turning more serious. “Oh that.” A beat passed, a long beat where everything was too loud. Raven could hear her heart, Garfield’s breath, the snap as Ma’ri broke another dandelion stem. Finally, he asked, “Are you happy?”

 Surprised, Raven slowly nodded. “Yes.”

 Wrapping an arm around her shoulder, he squeezed her tight. “Then no regrets.”

 “That’s it?” She stiffened slightly in his hold, still processing his answer. “You love children.”

 “Yeah, but then we’d have six kids and there really isn’t a sports team for that.” Garfield laughed and she could feel the reverberation running through his body and into hers. “Don’t get me wrong, it’d be really cute to have a little you, but there’s no way the world could deal with two of me. It can barely handle one!”

 Raven stared at him. “Garfield.”

 Realizing how serious she was, he rubbed the back of his head with his free hand. “I mean, yeah, it…it would have been nice. But. Well.” He shrugged. “If you’re happy, I’m happy.”

 Now she was certain more than just her ears were red. Leaning into him a little, she let her bangs hide her face. “Huh.”

 “Raven—”

 “Thanks.” She cut him off, leaning up to kiss him softly. There weren’t many times were Raven felt affectionate, where she wanted to start something, but for Garfield, she wanted to give. If only to match how many times she’d received.

 When she pulled back, his green skin was as red as a tomato. “Ra—” Before he could finish, he yelped in pain.

 “Got him!” Ma’ri crowed, her hands glowing as she stood across the lawn. “He’s weak!”

 “Whyyyyy?” he groaned, rubbing his arm.

 “They really like you,” Raven offered, trying not to snicker.

 Leaning close to Raven, he kissed her head and murmured, “We’ll finish this later.” Then he quickly strode down the steps, already transforming into chubby hippo as he ran towards the troublemaker. “I’ll show you weak!” Garfield growled.

 Children shrieked again and Raven smiled absentmindedly as she watched her husband terrorize the future generation of Teen Titans.

#teen titans #raven #beast boy #garfield logan #bbrae #beast boy x raven #fanfic

[hiddendreamer67]

A demon? In my attic? More likely than you think pt. 2

Fandom: Thomas Sanders, Sanders Sides

Pairings: pre-Analogical, Remile

Summary: “CAN SOMEONE PLEASE TELL ME WHAT’S GOING ON?!” Roman screeched, clearly frazzled from being out of the loop for several hours. Roman had never been good with secrets.

Notes: This is a sequel to the amazing @lefaystrent‘s oneshot, with permission of course. 

Part 1  

Check out more of my work at @hiddendreamerwriting!

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Virgil begrudgingly returned to the classroom, sitting on the edge of his seat to be as far away from Logan as possible. Roman gave him a look, but Virgil gave him his own brotherly look that said “Just drop it dude I’ll tell you later”.

Except, Virgil couldn’t tell him later. He couldn’t tell anybody without seeming like the witch freak for trying to pick on the new kid and calling him a demon, even if he was actually a demon. Life sucked sometimes.

It only got worse when the bell rang to signal their next class. Virgil and Roman fell into step with each other, and Logan shadowed Virgil’s every move.

“Can we help you?” Roman finally said with a huff, turning around.

“I’m just here to gain an astute education like any regular teen.” Logan chirped, and Virgil’s eye twitched in agitation. 

“But what’s your deal?” Roman looked between the pair. “You’re following Virgil like a lovesick fan. You know I’m right here, right?”

“Face it, Princey, not everyone falls for your charm.” Virgil rolled his eyes, Logan following him through the hall. Now Roman was forced to fall behind, examining the back of Logan’s head for some sort of antennae.

“Are you quite sure you’re not an alien?” Roman asked. “Because you’re acting strange.”

“Drop it, Roman.” Virgil hissed. Logan looked at the ground, waiting for an object to be dropped.

“Geez, whatever, fine.” Roman put up his hands, rolling his eyes. “I get it, this one’s yours.”

“I am indeed Virgil’s.” Logan smiled proudly.

That was the wrong thing to say in a crowded hallway. Rumors spread faster than the plague, and by the end of last period they reached Virgil’s ears.

“You’re dating the new kid?” Roman whispered.

“What? No!” Virgil gagged, the idea of being in a romantic relationship with a demon of all things bringing a sour taste to his mouth.

“Well everybody’s talking about it!” Roman dramatically declared. Virgil hunched his shoulders, noting how it did seem like more pairs of eyes were staring back at him than usual. Logan seemed ignorant to the attention, his gaze always focused on Virgil and helping solidify the rumors. Virgil was already thinking about researching ways to kill a demon.

“Roman, what the hell.” Virgil growled. “You’re my brother; why would you believe some gossip trash like that?” Although Virgil realized his first statement answered the second. Roman was quite gullible.

“Alright, I’ve figured it out.” Roman said decisively, the two waiting out on the school steps for their dad to pick them up. Logan sat next to them, swinging his legs in a mechanical manner. Roman leaned closer to Virgil’s ear, trying not to be overheard. “It’s a robot.”

“I am not mechanical.” Logan spoke up, and Roman cursed.

“Why do you keep eavesdropping?” Roman glared at him. “If you’re really ‘normal’, as you claim, then I wish you’d- MPFH!” Roman’s sentence was cut short by Virgil slapping a hand across his mouth, looking panicked.

“I do not operate as a wish machine.” Logan explained, sensing Virgil’s fears. “I can only make my deal with you. Unless you choose to make a deal to give up your deal to another dealer?”

“…what?” Virgil slowly took his hand away, staring at Logan incredulously. “No, whatever, no deals. I told you that.”

“It is inevitable.” Logan shrugged. “There is truly no way for me to return without one.”

“CAN SOMEONE PLEASE TELL ME WHAT’S GOING ON?!” Roman screeched, clearly frazzled from being out of the loop for several hours. Roman had never been good with secrets.

“I would, for a price, but I am otherwise occupied at the moment.” Logan shrugged. He seemed to relax the pep in his step, as though spending all day as a cheery teenager had tired him out. Huh- Virgil didn’t know demons could get exhausted.

Before Virgil could stumble his way through an explanation (and thus have to admit his great mistake), a horn beeped. The brothers looked up, seeing their dad waving from the car.

“C’mon.” Virgil stood up, nudging his head towards the vehicle. He held the door open, letting a peeved Roman enter. Logan tried to do the same, but Virgil pushed him. “Nuh uh, not you.”

Virgil didn’t think he had pushed Logan very hard, but it seemed the demon was more exhausted than he thought. Logan fell back against the concrete, earning two disappointed gasps from his family members in the car.

“Virgil!” Picani scolded, causing Virgil to wince. “What has gotten into you?”

“Uh…” Virgil bit his lip.

“Help that boy up right now!” Picani ordered. Virgil put his hand out like it pained him, helping Logan to his feet. He shuddered at the sensation; Logan’s skin was inhumanely cold, just like his frozen heart. Do demons even have hearts?

“What’s your name, young man?” Picani asked, leaning over the back of his seat to try and peer at the pair through the still open door.

“Logan.” Logan gave him a smile, but Virgil could tell it was more forced, like the demon was unused to moving his cheek muscles in such a gentle manner. Picani blinked, clearly unnerved but not saying anything.

“Well, ah, Logan, would you like a ride home?” Picani gave Logan a tense smile of his own.

“That would be most satisfactory.” Now Logan looked almost smug, sliding into the seat. Virgil grumbled under his breath, keeping his knees curled up and pressing against the window as much as possible. It was impossible to avoid him entirely though, and Virgil shivered against the touch. Roman seemed to notice as well.

“I say, you’re freezing!” Roman gasped, trying to copy Virgil’s tactic in a less blatantly rude manner.

“This is my normal body temperature.” Logan shrugged, shifting slightly and only causing both boys to flinch back further.

Picani cleared his throat. “So, Logan, where do you live?”

“The attic.” Logan answered.

“Is that a ghetto slum or something?” Roman looked confused. Virgil glared at Roman and shoved Logan over, causing Roman to shriek when an ice-cold elbow hit him in the stomach. Virgil gave him a smug grin.

“Gentle back there, boys.” Picani murmured. “Logan, I’m going to need an actual address.”

“34 Maplewood Court.” Logan recited. Both humans in the backseat turned to him incredulously, and if Picani wasn’t driving it was clear from his expression in the rearview mirror he would have done the same.

“Ah…that’s our address, kiddo.” A confused Picani explained.

“I’m aware.” Logan nodded. “Virgil offered to let me stay in your attic.”

“You took me up on that?!” Virgil hissed, quiet enough only the demon could hear him. Had Logan seriously been up there that whole time? How had Virgil not noticed?

“Wait a second, you’re homeless?” Roman’s tone sounded softer, almost regretful of all his constant badgering throughout the school day. Well, Virgil guessed unsocialized orphan was a good enough excuse to give a demon in disguise.

“Uh, yeah.” Virgil hoped this would work. He didn’t exactly want to out the demon, especially not now in a confined space with all his loved ones. Oh god, he had pushed Logan into Roman earlier, hadn’t he? Virgil couldn’t believe he was so dumb to blatantly forget the fact Logan was an all-powerful source of evil and use him as a way to prod his brother. Then again, a demon in a teen’s body with a horrible fashion sense did not exactly scream ‘intimidating’.

“Well…” Picani bit his lip at the wheel, seeming to be debating something.

“Sorry I didn’t tell you earlier.” Virgil spoke up. “It was just a spur of the moment thing. I only met him today.”

“No wonder he’s so grateful to you.” Roman blinked, impressed.

If Virgil were truly trying to house an orphan classmate he might have taken this moment to begging, but frankly he didn’t want this devil spawn anywhere near his family.

Picani gave the new child a determined look through the mirror. “Logan, of course we would love to open our doors to you. Just for the night, or do you need a safe space for a while?” Virgil inwardly groaned. Curse his benevolent parents for trying to adopt a demon.

“I do believe my stay will be prolonged, but that is up to Virgil.” Logan gave him a glance out of the corner of his eye. Virgil had tactfully taken to staring out the window.

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Taglist of people who wanted to be tagged in a second part: @punsterterry, @fandomloverangel, @that-one-nb-kid, @confusedbutamusedlolo, @zaikadis, @aliferous-ly

#sanders sides #virgil sanders #virgil #logan sanders #logan #analogical #demon!logan #roman sanders #roman #high school au #demon au #emile picani #emile #pre-analogical #demons #writing #fanfiction #humor #funny #part 2

[nutmegpirate]

Tao Kallan

[GENERAL] Age: 343; looks/feels 22 Gender: Female Species: Tiger Therian Height & Weight: 5'6 (167.6cm); 130lbs (59kg) Birthday: May 15th Occupation: Waiter (former mercenary) Relationship Status: Single Orientation: fitesexual currently undecided Faction: Rosario

[IDENTITY] Personality: + Confident + Fearless + Enthusiastic = Competitive - Hot-headed - Stubborn - Reckless

As a born fighter, Tao loves the thrill of a good brawl, whether it be an impulsive scrap in the street or a coordinated, weapons-out battle. Despite her explosive personality, she keeps her head clear in heated situations - especially those she creates herself. While not at all shy or introverted, she is a natural loner due to her hard-headed stubborness. She works best alone and even better against others, preferring casual rivalries to actual friendships. Fortunate is the soul whom she calls friend. She uses her love of fun and competition to bury uncomfortable feelings such as grief, loneliness, and especially romantic ones, which confuse her the most. These feelings do not exist, okay??!! Despite her ability to hold rational thought under stress, she often overextends herself when the blood runs hot, throwing herself into situations much too large for her to deal with or addressing people with too much enthusiasm or anger and driving them away. She views frightening things merely as new challenges to take on, which she does with glee. Backstory:

When Tao was young, she ran away from home.

Not for long, of course. She was still a child, barely tall enough to turn the door handle on her own. She slipped away when her tutor's back was turned, leaving her history lesson on the table, and was almost a mile into the woods around the estate by the time her family caught her and took her home. It was her first escape, and it wouldn't be her last.

Tao's family were artists, all of them in different disciplines. Her mother was a writer, a literary architect, crafting great literature and collections of poetry. Her father sang, and had once graced the stages of concert halls before settling down at the estate to raise his family. The eldest brother learned music from him and filled pages with compositions both vocal and instrumental. And the second brother became a master of paint and canvas, drawing forth worlds of color and light with his brush.

And not a single one of them knew how to have fun! So Tao ran away from home. She got better at it, the more she practiced. The longer she stayed away, the fewer fistfights she got in with visiting families' children, and the fewer scoldings she received for dancing too wildly at the stately dinners and galas held at the estate. She learned new lessons, not from a tutor, but from nature. She learned to stand in the stream until the fish nibbled her ankles and to snatch one out of the water with her claws. She learned how to snap sparks using magic into a dry pile of leaves for a cook fire. She learned how the animals moved in hidden trails through the underbrush, and how they rested, camouflaged, in sun-speckled shadows. She learned how the winds brought the weather and how to dig out an embankment for shelter in a storm. At first, she could stay away for hours. When she reached her teens, she was gone for days.

Then she never came back at all.

Her shirking of lessons came back to bite her. With little knowledge of the lay of the land, Tao went a little too far from home. The wilderness called her, and within a few weeks, she had lost the way back entirely. She felt a change in the land while wandering the vast plains and rolling hills - a drought, it felt like. Foliage withered, prey grew scarce, and the little brooks she drank from became muddy and shallow. The sparks she made with her fingertips came less and less easily.

Just a few miles away in the ruins of an old outpost, secluded from civilization, lived a sorcerer who feared death. Despite his elvish longevity, a terrible sickness had taken hold of Aegis, and so he shut himself away to find the secret to immortality using dark and forbidden methods. Each day he grew weaker, and so used the life force of other living things to sustain his spells and experiments with no regard for the waste of life he perpetrated. In the cold undercroft of his outpost he devised a spell - successful in theory, but risky. He'd need a test subject first before applying it to himself. Out here, though, where could he find one in time?

Tao stumbled across the outpost, footsore and fatigued after days without food or rest, desperate for a safe place to bed down. She entered the ruin without her usual wariness and selected a level section of the earth floor to make camp.

"You'll do."

As Tao turned, a cold numbness gripped her limbs, spreading quickly through her body. Her eyes remained fixed, frozen, on the elf before her. He looked crestfallen. "Can you move at all?" he asked her. Tao longed to tell him what she would do to him if she could move, but of course, being completely encased in frost, she could not move, and therefore not speak. Nor could she blink, or look away, or even breath. Rage consumed her, but it did no good, and her life for the next immeasurable span of years became one monotonous day after another, with the sorcerer pacing before her, in and out of her field of vision, studying her and the effect of his spell.

He had accomplished at least part of his goal, it seemed, as his captive did not age or wither over the years. But being unable to move or free oneself made the spell a failure, useless to him. Existing, frozen, for eternity? That was not living. He began anew, though death drew ever nearer, determined to preserve himself even if it meant the end of more lives, and Tao could only watch him with ever-burning hatred.

Then the day came when Aegis left the outpost and never returned, and Tao's endless fury, without a person to focus on, gave way to fog. In the fog, she found, she didn’t notice the time passing so much. And so she slept. Nothing is infinite, however. Without the sorcerer to sustain it, the spell, regardless of how strong the magic, began to degrade. The fog in Tao's mind cleared a little when she felt the change. The process was slow, agonizingly slow, a true test of her mental fortitude as she waited for the right moment. Years further must have passed by the time she felt the icy bonds become brittle. With a roar pulled from the darkest reaches of her tiger soul, Tao moved, and the ice shattered. She collapsed on legs that couldn’t remember how to stand and struggled to draw breath after forgetting how for over three hundred years, years she had no idea had passed.

When she recovered, she wasted no time heading home, but found she could not quite remember the way. What should have been a few days' journey stretched to nearly a month. When she at last found the estate, it was not the home she remembered; it had been converted to apartments and flats for rent, and the people there were little help with their strange, garbled speech. They directed Tao through the woods, and there she found a city that had not existed before.

Thus began her time in Almaria.

First, she studied. Through a great deal of questioning and delves into the library's special collections and archives, she found that more than three hundred years had elapsed since her imprisonment by Aegis, and in that time, the Kallan line had died out with her youngest brother's family. The estate and all its contents had been auctioned off or donated -  much of the art ending up in the archive itself - leaving Tao with nothing.

Except her drive for vengeance.

Burying all the complex feelings that came with finding out one's family has been dead for 300 years, Tao began her hunt. She tried her best to exist peacefully in the modern world, all the while honing her fire magic and gathering whispers. Three hundred years should have barely touched an elf; Aegis had to be out there. The archives bore no record of him, nor did any of the graveyard headstones. She gathered allies, friends and rivals, and walked dangerous roads with them, getting into trouble here and there. At last, a lead, but a false one. The return to the outpost gave her nothing but more secrets and ash. Though the world is altered now, and Arcadia's history different from what Tao remembers, she knows Aegis is still around, somewhere, well hidden. She won't let the paradox in her memory deter her. She will find him, and inflict all the pain on him that he ever did on her.

Abilities: - Tiger Senses: Sense of smell and hearing are stronger than your average human's, and she has night vision. - Firestarter: This covers creation of sparks with a snap, or heating small objects in her hands. - Flame Resist: She is somewhat resistant to her practiced element of choice, but not immune. - Burning Hands: Allows her to light her hands on fire and extinguish them at will, as well as maintain and control the flame's intensity. (unlocked through RP) - Blaze Command: Tao can manipulate the movement fire to a small extent, even blazes she did not create, though they do not listen as well as her own flames. (unlocked through RP) Strengths & Weaknesses: + Fighter: she’s got moves and muscle and can take quite a few hits + Survivor: she knows how to last in the wilderness a loooooong time + Rhythm: despite her lifelong rejection of her family's practice of the arts, Tao has an excellent sense of rhythm and beat and can tap a drum quite well - and dance along to it even better. - Hard-headed: good luck getting her to function on a team or to follow orders she disagrees with. - Loud: when around other people she can get pretty… shouty. Usually not tactful things, either. - Short fuse: not always in an angry way, but she’ll challenge anything with a “fight me,” and not sarcastically. - Ignorant: there's a lot she just doesn't know yet, from slang to locations to magic to technology.

Likes & Dislikes: + fighting or competing (and winning at both) + exploring the outdoors + swimming + free food + dragons - confined spaces/being trapped - bossy/stuffy people- formal events - being touched in a friendly way (wrestle? yes. hug? no.) - Aegis

[EXTRA] - She's flown twice on dragonback, fulfilling a lifelong dream of flying, and longs to go again someday. - Her hair used to be long, worn in a ponytail. She cut it short not long after breaking free. - She has pads on her hands and feet, and fur on her ears, tail, lower legs, and feet. - Enhanced vocal chords allow her to make these kinds of sounds. - Her speech is still pretty old-fashioned, but she's making a conscious effort to adopt modern speaking patterns.

Relationships: - Whole immediate family has passed away. - Akane: Best friend and slam-dunk pool buddy, troublemaker-in-arms, etc etc; current employer. - Aithne: Fire rival; secretly friends but Tao will never admit it. - Yao: Detested enemy for minorly poisoning her when they first met. - Delta: An ally, though kind of a fragile one. - Nisha: Boss with the money. But not anymore! Because she has a new job now. :D - Yelena: Sharp! And fighty, like herself. They get along pretty well, though Tao is not totally sold on the person-shaped-sword thing - it mystifies her. - Takuto: Another fighting ally. Though they met on shaky terms, she'd have his back in a scrap. [RP PREFERENCE] Media: [Discord] |  [Google Docs] Methods: Paragraph | Literature | Script | Headcanon Timezone: MST

#arcadia #art

[forever-more-never-again]

Word Count: 1014

Pairings: None!

A/N: Happy Halloween!

Uraraka held her breath. This was not happening. It couldn’t be happening. 

Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes, but she pushed them back. She couldn’t afford to break down right now. She had to finish the mission.

Peering around the corner, she saw a shadow. 

“Tick...Tock...Tick...Tock.” The young, childish voice was at war against the ominous words. 

The shadow at the end of the hallway grew as the person walked closer. Closer. Closer. To where Uraraka was hiding. 

She sucked in a deep breath, checked her gear, and with a cry, she leaped out from around the corner with her hands outstretched.

Only to be met with nothing but air.

Keeping her guard up, she looked down the empty hallway of the tower. 

“Hehehehe!”

The loud chilling giggle made Uraraka freeze. And with fear sliding down her spine, she slowly looked up.

Hanging from the ceiling, face upside, smiling maniacally at her, was Deku.

“Ahhh!” She screamed in terror, falling backwards onto the floor as Deku leapt at her.

He spun in the air, landing on his feet in front of her. His black suit and red tie completely different from his old hero costume.

His unnerving grin stayed in place as he peered down at her, his green eyes seeming to be light from within.

“Ahhh...Uravity. It’s so nice to see you again. Unfortunately, this was only a quick reunion. Goodbye.”

And before She could blink or beg for him to stop, she was gunned down at point blank range.

~~

On a lower floor, Bakagou heard the gunshots and tensed. Stalking down the hallway, he checked his gauntlets. Full power.

“Hehehehe!”

Childish laughter echoed around him. Bakagou froze and quickly looked around. No one.

“Tick ...Tock ...Tick...Tock…”

Bakagou growled, gritting his teeth, that was defentily the dumb nerds voice. Now where was he?

“Come on out Deku! Fight me like a Man!”

“Kachan...Kachan...Kachan...You just never learn.”

And then pain exploded from his back.

~~

Todoroki stood silently where he had been at the start. In the middle of a conference room, the floor coated in ice.

His face betrayed none of his emotions. Apprehension, shock, and he admitted, a tiny bit of fear.

He had heard several gunshots. And Bakagou and Uraraka had not checked back in. He was on his own apparently.

“Tick...Tock...Tick...Tock.”

The foreboding words floated through the air.

Todoroki kept his voice level and clear of any emotions, “Your games don’t work on me Deku.”

And there he was at the doorway. Dressed in a black suit with a red tie, his green hair slicked back, not showing its normal business.

Deku had his hands clasped behind his back showing nonchalance, but Todoroki knew he was armed.

Rocking forward on his feet, Deku’s toxic green eyes scanned the room, taking notice of the icy floor.

His breath came out with a white puff of air as he laughed. The sound so different from the laugh that Todoroki remembered. 

If he had been walking, this laugh would have frozen him in place. 

“You truly think you can beat me Shouto?” Deku’s eyes glinted as he stared Todoroki down, his lips turned up into a smirk, “I already took down Uravity and Ground Zero. You are all Alone with no backup.”

Todoroki stayed still, his face blank, “I am stronger than you, Deku.”

Deku laughed again, and then with a suddenness that shocked Todoroki, he stopped and became completely still.

“Let’s see about that.”

And with no warning, he leapt forward.

Todoroki moved with him, his instincts ingrained. Sweeping his hand forward, he called forth a block of ice to get in Deku’s way.

Snow rushed back into his face as Deku punched through it.

Now Deku was in close range.

Igniting his Right side, his flames rose as he threw a punch at the small boy.

Deku laughed, high and shrill as he jumped backwards, avoiding the flames.

“You really are cool Todoroki.”

His fire went out as he registered those words. The same words he had managed to overhear a year ago at the USJ when Shigaraki had tried to kill Tsuyu and Aizawa had erased his quirk.

That was all the time needed for Deku to race forward, pull his gun out from his waistband and shoot Todoroki in the chest.

~~

A buzzer sounded and Midoriya’s eyes became worried as he looked at Todoroki, “I didn’t hurt you did I? You froze there at the end?”

Todoroki managed to shake himself free of his memories and share a small smile, “I am fine. You are very good at Water fights, it seems.” He put his super soaker on the table next to him.

Midoriya blushed a little and scuffed his feet, his super soaker dangling by his side.

“It was different playing a villian, but it was really fun!”

“Hey Deku! You were really creepy! It was awesome!” Uraraka came bounding down the stairs. The front of her costume was soaking wet like Todoroki’s but she didn’t mind it. Her super soaker nowhere in sight, since she had left it upstairs.

“Oi! Deku! You bastard! You couldn’t face me!? You had to stab me in the back!?” Bakagou’s loud voice echoed as he stomped towards the trio. His super soaker nowhere in sight either.

Midoriya stammered and waved his hands, forgetting that one held a super soaker which Uraraka had to dodge to avoid getting hit with.

“That’s not it at all, Kachan! I just saw an opening and I-”

“All four of you, please return to the viewing room so that the next team can go.” Aizawa’s bored voice came out from the speakers, causing all four of the teens to hurry out of the faux tower.

In the viewing room, Izuku smiled as he listened to Uraraka talk to some of the girls about how creepy he had been when he had shot her.

He never imagined the Aizawa would hold an exercise where they had to shoot water guns at each other.

HAPPY HALLOWEEN!

FOREVER Taglist:

@sxph-t​ @mialeelavellan​ @rainydaysrnevergrey​  @platonic-plots​ @sociallyawkwardcircus-freak-hi​ @queenbbarnes​ @mythixmagic​ @chas-z​ @thefridgeismybestie​ @strangersstranger​ @princess-evans-addict​ @rororo06​ @timelordhunterandmysterysolver​

#my hero academia #my hero academia x reader #deku midoriya #Izuku #bnha izuku #midoriya izuku #uraraka ochako #bnha uraraka #bakagou #katsuki bakugou #bnha bakugou #aizawa sensei #bnha aizawa #happy halloween

[yellowdistress]

Could you maybe write a short where teen-aged Peter is grateful for his dad’s physical comfort, just to switch things up? I love your characterization of Peter, and I’d love to see the other side of his self-view.

I know I haven’t answered prompts in a while, I was taking a little break. But I get out of school in two weeks, so I’m hoping to do more. Just gotta get through this last week, and then finals week! I’ll still be working this summer, so some weeks will be busier than others. But here you go!

…

The lake smelled like ice.

His toes were frozen, knees pulled to his chest where he sat on the patio chair, the cushion warm from how long he had been sitting in his pajamas. He tugged silently at the hem of his night shirt, mind wracking for an explanation as to the lack of sleep behind his eyes. He could have slept, if he had allowed himself. But dreams brought back memories of bad patrols. Of not being able to tell his father, because his father could never know who Spider-Man was. He could never know because he would put a stop to it. But not talking made it hard, it made his life silent, just as silent as the frozen lake they had retreated to for a weekend get away. Of fun and hot chocolate, just the two of them. The break up with Pepper was still looming, his dad’s hands shook sometimes and Peter wondered if he was drinking too much again.

He put his finger nails between his teeth. Peter knew part of it was his fault. His father was worried. The grandfather clock inside the cabin chimed, but it sounded too loud. Maybe that was why Peter couldn’t sleep either, everything was turned up inside his skull. A lump formed in his throat in discomfort. Tiredness bore a hole and he wanted to sleep so badly, and if his head could just lull, if it wasn’t so cold he could - 

The patio door slid open.

Peter’s head snapped up, and there was his father. His father was confused, hair disheveled as he took in his shivering son. Peter hadn’t even realized his body had taken to such lengths to warm him, the clouds forming in front of his mouth as they reached freezing temperatures from the lake. Things had been tense, because well…his father had been vocal about everything. About how Peter was acting weird, drug suspicions, threats of tests. His dad wanted answers that Peter wasn’t willing to provide and sometimes it made his father mad at him. So angry that Peter’s stomach would drop with shame.

And so his father stepped sideways once, and order almost sharply, “Inside. Right now.”

Right. Sitting outside in the freezing weather probably didn’t help his dad’s feelings.

Peter was on his feet in an instant, despite the cold making him stiff. He approached and a hand wrapped around his arm as he was led inside. Instead of being sent up to his temporary bedroom though, he was pulled towards the fire place, where his father guided him to sit on the hearth. A thick blanket was thrown around his shoulders and his father glanced at Peter’s feet, before mumbling, “Are you trying to lose those?”

“No,” Peter answered, staring up at him, where he was looming like a shadow, always a shadow, “No, I was just…I was thinking.”

His father grabbed the nearby coffee table, dragging it forward to sit in front of Peter. He sat down, placing his elbows on his knees as he hummed, “About what?”

This was one of the openings his father was always looking for. An opening to talk about the pain and anguish Peter tried so desperately to hide from him. Peter swallowed thickly, blinking his eyes rapidly over and over again. Peter inhaled, “Nothing.”

His father pursed his lips. His mouth then drew into a line and he looked away. He said, “Let’s talk, you and me. We gotta talk. Y’know, when you were small you used to pry stuff outta me like it was your job, and I had hoped…you would be nothing like me. You would never have to have answers pulled out of you like pulling teeth. Maybe that’s my fault - “

Peter started shaking his head, eyes going wide, “No, that’s not your fault!”

“Isn’t it?” His dad questioned, “That’s the only example I ever gave you. A guy who hides everything. I can’t watch you do that too, kid. You gotta talk to me. You gotta trust me, because…because I don’t think I can do this - this silence.”

Silence. It had been so quiet…so quiet at home ever since…God ever since…

Peter’s throat closed and he was shaking as he murmured, trying to push the words he had buried past his lips, “I don’t have a mom.”

His father looked taken aback. Maybe this wasn’t the cause, but it was root, one of many. Something that had brought the silence into their house all those weeks ago, when it had just become the two of them. Peter dug his fingernails into his palms, almost angry with how his eyes were burning with tears.

“What?” His dad questioned.

“I don’t have a mom,” Peter repeated, “Pepper doesn’t…she doesn’t wanna be around anymore and - “

“That’s not true,” His father insisted, “She’s just busy.”

Peter ground his teeth and looked at the vaulted ceiling, wooden beams perfectly painted, “She left us.”

“Peter,” Hands grabbed his wrists, and Peter looked down at him from the ceiling, a ceiling Peter could hide in if he climbed now with his awful mutation, “She didn’t leave you.”

Peter swallowed, “But she left you. And I love you and her, so you guys should love each other.”

His father laughed weakly, almost breathless.

“It doesn’t always work that way, kid.”

Being fourteen sucked.

Peter’s face crumbled a bit, and hiding the tears became a priority. He lunged forward, wrapping his arms around his father, kneeling in front of where he was seated on the coffee table. His dad almost gasped from the force of the embrace, how hard Peter slammed into him, almost forgetting his strength. Fingers found the back of his head, in his hair, Peter was shaking, but not from the cold. From an emptiness.

His father’s chin rested on the top of his head. The man whispered, “Okay…okay you’re okay.”

“I’m really not,” Peter’s voice broke, because it wasn’t just Pepper, there was Spider-Man, the secrets, things he couldn’t cover.

He repeated, “I’m really not, Dad.”

Peter felt the hold on him tighten. And Peter let him. Warmth shrouded his shivering body, it held him close, his father rocked him like when he had been small and Peter ignored the way his knees hurt from kneeling so long. 

It was better to cry than to freeze to death and Peter fell asleep.

#what we are au #biological father au

[hovercraft79]

Winter Song

Ch 30 Jingle Bells

Chapters: 30/31 Word Count: 1,761 Fandom: The Worst Witch (TV 2017) Rating: Teen Warnings: None Summary: Tonight is the big New Year’s Eve bash at Pentangle’s and Hecate, much to her dismay, has agreed to go. But Pippa knows her friend. And she has a few surprises up her sleeve to make Hecate’s night special.

Notes: This story is part of the B-Sides: Stories from the world of Hecate’s Summer Playlist series. It is a prequel to Hecate’s Summer Playlist.

Jingle Bells has been around forever. Pick whichever cover is your favorite.

THIS IS THE LAST ONE! I’m so glad I stuck this out and finished – I hope you are, too. As always, thanks to Sparky for all the editing. She’s a good sport about it every time. Also, I should say thanks to my family for leaving me to feed this little obsession. They’re great.

Hecate checked her bag one last time. She couldn’t believe she’d let Pippa talk her into spending New Year’s Eve at Pentangle’s Academy. The Pentangle’s New Year’s Eve party was famous – infamous really. Though Pippa had promised she’d enjoy herself, Hecate couldn’t imagine that would be true.

She flipped open her pocket watch and checked the time. Pippa had been very cagey about tonight’s plans, saying only that she should pack to spend the night and be waiting in front of Cackle’s at five-thirty in the evening. It was five twenty-eight. Hecate gave herself a quick once-over in the mirror, smoothing her hands down her Ordinary style jumper and woolen trousers. Again, Pippa’s instructions – dress warmly and be ready to blend in with the Ordinaries. She flicked her wrist and transferred to Cackle’s entry.

The cold hit her like a brick, and for a flash of time she was back in the ice. She pushed the feeling away, casting a warming spell so strong she would be sweating soon. She still didn’t know what all of this business was about; she could be at Pentangle’s in two easy transfers, or half an hour on her broom.

Ching! – ching! – ching! – ching! – ching! – ching! – ching! – ching! – ching!

The sound started small, then grew, louder and louder with each passing second. A moment later a red carriage, pulled by a pair of white horses wheeled through the gate. The driver wore holiday green, matching the horses blankets, the upholstery and the swags of greenery decorating the carriage.

The only thing out of place was a deep pink figure riding in the back seat. Hecate cut the warming spell. She didn’t need it anymore. She watched the carriage swing around the drive, keeping her face impassive until the carriage swung to a stop in front of her.

“Hello, milady!” Pippa leaned out of the carriage offering Hecate a hand up. The driver was on the ground in an instant, taking Hecate’s bag and helping her into the carriage. In no time, Pippa had Hecate in the seat and tucked under a heavy quilt.

“What is all of this?” Hecate asked, inspecting the inside of the carriage and the quilt and… and how lovely Pippa looked in her pink coat and fuzzy white hat. “I don’t understand…” Merciful Merlin… was this a date? Hecate’s eyes widened.

“There’s nothing to understand, Hiccup.” Pippa could see the panic rising in Hecate, and she second-guessed herself again. “I’ve been getting ready for the party all day, and I wanted to relax a bit. With you. This seemed like a fun way to get you to Pentangle’s.” Pippa fluffed and tucked the quilt around them, making sure they were touching, but only just so. She didn’t want to make Hecate any more nervous than she was, or make her feel trapped in any way. “Do you like it?”

In truth? Hecate didn’t know if she liked it or not. But Pippa looked so hopeful and… well, she didn’t dislike it. “It’s… nice… I’ve never done the whole carriage ride thing before. It’s not as cold as I expected.”

Pippa leaned over so the driver couldn’t hear her, whispering in Hecate’s ear. “That’s because I chanted a little bubble over the carriage so it wouldn’t be too cold, just cold enough.” She leaned back, but not quite all the way, and she was immensely pleased when Hecate seemed to relax into her as well. “Isn’t the sky lovely tonight, Hiccup? It’s like you can see the whole Milky Way tonight.”

“It’s beautiful,” Hecate said, pulling her eyes away from Pippa to look up at the sky. “This is lovely. Thank you.”

“Thank you for coming tonight. I promise you’ll have a good time.”

Hecate doubted that. Even in the best of times, parties were not to her liking… but for Pippa she would try. “I’m sure I will.”

Pippa smiled reassuringly. “Would you like some hot cocoa? I got the dark kind that you like with the cinnamon and the hint of cayenne.” She reached into a basket on the floor of the carriage and pulled out two travel-mugs of cocoa. Hecate accepted gratefully.

“You remembered,” Hecate sighed, warming before she’d even taken a sip of the cocoa. One thing she had to admit about Pippa, she remembered details like that. To be honest, Hecate seldom drank cocoa at all anymore, but she’d always loved that particular mix. Pippa had returned to Amulet’s with it after a winter break had taken the Pentangles to Mexico. She’d given Hecate a canister of it every Christmas after, until there weren’t any Christmases after. Hecate hadn’t been able to buy it for herself.

“How could I forget? It’s just like you… dark and spicy…”

“And a little bit bitter?” Hecate said, drily.

Bright laughter bubbled up from Pippa at that. “Just the perfect amount, Hiccup – like good coffee and dark chocolate.” She bumped her with her shoulder. “You always made me laugh more than anyone else.”

Hecate relaxed into the carriage seat. She loved hearing Pippa laugh. Pippa had never laughed at her expense, even when they were girls and she was laughing at something Hecate had said or done. She never laughed at her. And Pippa had always laughed at herself more than anyone else. “You too, Pip. No one has ever made me laugh quite like you did.” It was true, too. She could play with Ada and be silly and Dimity… well, Dimity was amusing in her own way, but Hecate had never found the ability to just let go with anyone else in quite the same way. She wondered if that was still true or if their separation had stolen that as well.

Pippa leaned a bit heavier into her. “You’ve gone into your head, I think, Hecate. Flying after happy memories, I hope?”

“Memories of us from a long time ago,” she said, sadly. “I’m feeling the gap, I suppose.”

Nodding, Pippa hooked her arm through Hecate’s under the blanket. “It creeps up every now and again, doesn’t it, like a familiar chasing down its shadow? When that happens to me, I just focus on my very favorite memory of us until it goes away.”

Hecate turned away, watching the bright lights of the village as they rolled past. “Favorite memory? I don’t…” She started to say she didn’t have one, but that was a lie. One memory shined brighter than all the rest – the first day they’d done their broomstick waterskiing routine perfectly. They’d been so excited, Pippa had flung her arms around Hecate and spun them around until they collapsed onto the grass, laughing and hugging. Pippa had even planted a loud, sloppy kiss on her cheek. “The first time we made it through the routine.”

“That’s mine, too.” Pippa pressed tighter against her before settling back. “At least, it used to be.” She felt Hecate stiffen so she added quickly, “Now I think my favorite memory of us hasn’t happened yet.” Hecate loosened, her posture relaxing into the curve of the seat.

They rode the rest of the way in companionable silence, simply enjoying the scenery and the company. As they finally approached Pentangle’s, Hecate could hear the roar of the party blaring from the roof. Her lips pressed together in something she hoped would pass for a smile – or at least something Pippa would pretend was a smile. The driver hopped down from the carriage with practiced grace, hurrying over to assist Hecate and Pippa as they climbed down more cautiously.

Pippa grimaced as she landed on the frozen ground.

“Ankle?” Hecate leaned down to fuss, but Pippa shooed her away.

“It just twinged a bit - wasn’t careful.” She handed Hecate some carrots from her pocket. “Go thank the fellows who did all the work tonight while I settle up, would you?”

Hecate took the carrots and moved around to greet the horses. The first one she came to was a beautiful chestnut with the name ‘Hammurabi’ stamped into his leather horse collar. “Thank you, Hammurabi, for conveying us to our destination.” She held a carrot in her open palm, rubbing the horse’s velvety nose as he nibbled the vegetable and lipped at her hand. “I’m a bit of a fan of Codes as well, you know. Too big, some would say.”

Once he’d finished the carrot, she moved over to the other horse, another chestnut, this one with a white blaze down his forehead. “There’s a handsome boy,” she said, holding out another carrot. Hecate checked the name. “Oh! I beg your pardon, Lady Evangeline! Aren’t I a silly witch?” She rubbed the blaze on Evangeline’s forehead, talking softly to her, and then again to Hammurabi when the big steed nudged her with his nose.

She looked up to find Pippa watching her intently, a small smile on her lips and something unreadable in her eyes. She gave the horses one last rub and joined Pippa on the walkway; by unspoken agreement they watched the carriage until it disappeared around the bend. As soon as it was out of sight, Pippa transferred their belongings to her quarters.

“Shall we head to our party, darling?” Pippa asked, holding out an elbow. “I’ll transfer us right up.”

Hecate would have loved to stay right where she was – or to have stayed in the carriage for that matter, but she squared her shoulders and nodded her head. Pippa snapped her fingers, and they disappeared.

Bracing herself for the noise, Hecate was surprised when they appeared in the blissful quiet of Pippa’s living room. “I don’t…”

“This is our New Year’s Eve, Hiccup. I wouldn’t subject you to the Bacchanalia that’s going on up there.” She snapped her fingers and waved her hands. A mini-buffet table appeared next to the sofa, filled with crudités of all sorts as well as a selection of alcoholic and non-alcoholic beverages. The chessboard sat ready as did a handful of other games and a movie or two. “I’ll have to make an appearance, and I’d love for you to join me, but I intend for us to celebrate down here. No one up there will even know I’m not there.”

“Y-You did this for me?” Hecate breathed, looking around in amazement.

“I did this for us, Hiccup. It’s a new year and a new start. I wanted it to be something we would both enjoy. Now…” she pointed to the chessboard and arched one eyebrow. “It’s my last opportunity this year to try and even up the score. Let’s play.”

#ww2018winterfluffevent #hicsqueak #hecate hardbroom #pippa pentangle

[sqoiler]

backstories/character bios for my webcomic main characters:

growing up, emma rain was one of those weird kids who didn’t have any friends. she drew a lot & didn’t talk all that much, and although she was friendly to everyone, just kept to herself. she lived in a tiny town called hillville where everyone knew everyone, and her best friend was old mr. pocket from the antique store. after her dad died, mr. pocket adopted her. emma had had her superpowers for as long as she could remember, and the minute she graduated high school she hightailed it out of hillville, shaved her head, got a degree in art, went to a couple pride parades, and moved to the big city, where she started superheroing as her part-time gig after watching the local news one too many times and getting fed up. she had been a sorta superhero back in high school, but not really and she’s just now getting into it fully. she’s a little insecure and reclusive when it comes to other superheroes, but she’s working on getting out of her shell a little more. what could go wrong?

chloe winters was a Teen Superhero(tm). she’s been hardcore heroing since she was 14. she was part of a superhero team that disbanded when chloe was 18, but don’t ask her why cause she won’t tell you. she transferred schools after her freshman year of college and became the new face of superheroing in carson city. she met dragon two years later and a year after dragon & winter pole were the city’s dynamic duo, they got a sweet gig going with collin carson, local billionaire and superhero enthusiast. now chloe works for collin’s company as a personal assistant and kinda third wheeled around collin and dragon until she found herself living with the pair of them in collin’s mansion. it’s a good deal, and assuming chloe can forget her tragic past and maybe even help out the new hero in town, verity volant, everything will be awesome. 

skylar jones has lived in carson city his whole life. he grew up normally, with his the most unusual thing about him being that he actually liked math class. when he was dared to eat a ghost pepper when he was a senior in high school, discovered that he could breathe fire. it wasn’t a great day for him. he then spent the next few years toasting marshmallows with his breath and trying to figure out how to blow on hot stuff to make it colder and not set it on fire. once he mastered the art of fire breath, he realized that the city only had one superhero but most other cities had a lot of them, and winter pole had only been doing heroing in carson city for a few years so she had a lot to clean up. then skyar’s brother got attacked by a roaming Monster, so he really felt the need to help out. he made a costume, started helping winter pole, accidentally bumped into collin carson after an interview with carson co. to try and get a janitorial job, and fell in love. next think skylar knew, he and collin are dating and skylar has a job as a video game tester, collin decides to fund him and winter pole’s heroing, and all three of them are living together in collin’s mansion. weird how these things work out. so yeah, everything’s looking up skylar, even though collin made some weird synthetic wings to help aid in the “dragon” look and there’s a really persistent reporter trying to get info on the heroes. but everything’s gonna be fine, really.

collin carson grew up as a billionaire, decided superheroes were awesome, and decided to become one. sadly, he didn’t have powers but his older sister secretly did, and while she was trying to keep 13 year old collin from killing himself, got really badly hurt and ended up having to move to a private island to keep herself alive & sane. collin blamed himself, and decided that heroing was a no-go. but his passion came back with a force when the winter pole, established hero with tons of experience and also happening to be super awesome, moved to carson city. collin dedicated himself to trying to get her attention, but then he got sent away by his parents to learn the “value of work”. whatever. he came back a few years later when his parents decided to move to the island where his sister lived, and before he could try to figure out a new approach to getting winter pole--and this “dragon” person--’s attention, he met skylar jones and immediately fell in love. pretty convenient, as it turned out. collin is happy to help skylar and chloe with funding, and lodging, and they let him do sciency stuff with gadgets, so they’re all happy. even when chloe decides that verity volant needs to join their little crew, and even later, when emma decides it’s a good idea to bring literal children into the mix. what and ever. maybe if he keeps being a good example to the public and helping the city in all the ways he can, his parents will let him see  his sister again. hopefully. 

natalie robinson is not technically a reporter, she’s a photographer, but a lot of people mistake her for one. probably because she’s pretty nosy and likes asking questions about what she’s photographing, and probably because she likes to stretch the truth and claim to be a photographer. whatever, her partner appreciates her extra help. anyway, natalie and her partner were sent to carson city to figure out collin carson’s deal now that he’s back in carson city and now that he’s the ONLY carson in their city. unfortunately, natalie doesn’t care about collin carson and would MUCH rather take pictures of the local superheroes, especially verity volant, who make’s natalie’s bi heart explode a little whenever she sees her. except, of course, natalie has NO CHANCE with a superhero, but with emma rain, the artist she met while doing some freelance photography for an art magazine? natalie’s chances with her are WAY higher. too bad emma seems to have some sort of secret....

sophie white developed her powers when she was 3 and her mom freaked out and sent her into the foster care system. she learned to control her powers pretty early and repressed them down super deep because she blamed her powers for her situation. when she was nine, instead of switching families she was sent to a summer camp and met dylan, who she immediately hated. the feeling was mutual and they played pranks on each other all summer long, until camp was over and sophie was placed into her new home and across the kitchen table was dylan. after that, they became inseparable and were dependent on each other. when they were eleven, they got kidnapped by a shady organization to test their new machine. the machine duplicated a person’s powers and gave them to someone else, and once the machine was used on them dylan got sophie’s powers. she teleported them out and they escaped. they decided that it was too risky to stay in the foster system and lived on the streets until they were found by verity volant...

dylan henry’s parents were killed by a monster when he was little, and he grew up bouncing around in foster homes. when he was 9, he was sent to a summer camp where he met sophie. they immediately disliked each other and were enemies throughout the rest of camp, playing pranks on each other and stuff. but when henry got back and sent to a new foster home, he discovered that sophie was also there and therefore also in the foster system. they became friends after that realization and were inseparable at the foster home and in the new school they were placed at. after they got kidnapped and dylan got sophie’s powers, sophie went right on repressing the powers again and dylan mastered them, thinking they were pretty cool. they lived on the streets and only needed each other, but then they ran into verity volant....

anna ellis has has powers since [redacted] and as a [redacted] she [redacted]. but then [redacted] and she quit. shortly after, she [redacted] which led her to [redacted]. she lives in [redacted] and tries to stay away from [redacted]. all she really wants is to [redacted] since she still loves [redacted] but she’s afraid. she stays away and uses her powers to [redacted]. maybe one day she’ll come back, but not yet. 

bianca ellis: bianca is anna’s daughter. she’s 6 years old and doesn’t know what’s going on or what her mom is afraid of. if she has powers, they haven’t developed yet. 

to be clear - 

emma -- verity volant, born with the powers the powers of flight & light manipulation

chloe - winter pole, born with ice powers (think elsa from frozen)

skylar - dragon, developed fire-breath powers

sophie - shadow, born with teleportation powers

dylan - shadow, gained teleportation powers by the machine

anna - [redacted], [redacted]

#SADLY I DONT HAVE A NAME FOR THE COMIC YET RIP ME #original #my comic #<< that's the tag till i get a name #emma rain #chloe winters #skylar jones #collin carson #natalie robinson #dylan henry #sophie white #anna ellis #bianca ellis #long post

[lillaxtrigger]

Young hope: Chapter 14

Out in the dusty wastes stood a lone diner on the side of the road. Outside were a pack of black vehicles parked out in its lot. At the outdoor tables sat various well dressed agents, eating breakfast with one another. “So, you hook up with Jimmy on the weekend or what? Bet you guys were pounding on each other all night.” one of them asks, piercing his fork through his eggs. “Naw man, too much to drink. I just went home and slept off my hangover.” “You gotta lay of the scotch, mate. It’s killing your social life.” A miserable groan escapes the officer, affirming with; “I know. It’s the tenth time I skipped out on Jimmy. Wouldn’t blame him if he just moved on with his life. I’ve been trying rehab these past few month, but it’s been doing jack shit to my…to my...”. “Jack shit to you’re what, bro?” “Hold on. Think I see something.” The agent pulls out a pair of binoculars and looks out towards the horizon. His other looks behind and wonder what his partner might be trying to view. Out in the distance, a single speck leaving behind a trail of dust crawls its way up the road. It seemed to heading towards the diners direction. “Holy shit!” the agent with binoculars exclaims. “What? What da ya see?” The agent hands his partner the binoculars and tell him to: “Take a look for yourself.” Peeking through the spectacle, he witnesses a long haired man of Asian descent dressed ridding through the roads on a motor bike. “Is that fucking Chase Young!?” “It’s motherfucking Chase Young, bitch!?” “We gotta warn the boss!” At his partners request, one of the agents hurries into the diner.

Sitting upon the counter stools, an orange haired man munches on his morning ham. On his side, a green haired woman sips on her morning cup of joe. The other, a white haired man, enjoying the rich creamy taste of his bagel Around them, countless other agents enjoy their various breakfasts, laughter and merriment ensuing throughout the humble diner. The agent outside rushes inside, stirred in a panic as he swiftly approaches the trio sat upon the counter. “Boss! Boss! You’re never gonna...” On the verge of his terrible warning, the man come down with a maddening cough. The man in the middle hands the agent his glass of milk to quell the coughing fit. Swigging down the morning drink, he soon continues with his dire message. “You’re never...gonna guess who’s coming up on the horizon. It’s Chase Young.” The happiness and joy that waved through the airs of the diner are cut down in an instant upon hearing the very name. The three sitting upon the counter are unfazed by the news, the man in the middle gazing beyond the agent that ran inside.

A smooth, yet sinister voice rings out, greeting with: “It’s been such a long time since we last met, hasn’t it Todd.” The agent looks behind him and sees the infamous man right upon his back, jumping backwards and landing on the floor as he crawls back. “Or would you prefer your other alias...Agent 344.” A faint smile forms upon the head agents lips, them greeting the villain before him with; “Hey there Chase. Mind telling me what brings you here on this fine morning? If your planning to settle the score, I’m afraid I’m a little preoccupied with breakfast at the moment.” “Another day. I come baring a piece of news. News that you in particular might be interested in.” Pulling out a tablet, the infamous malefactor scrolls through the page of a news website. “A day ago, an article came out concerning a troubling development within a quaint metropolis called Townsville, one that was ultimately solved by a group of teenagers, would you believe it. Normally I have little to no interest in the affairs of measly worms, but someone in the article fancied my eye.” Presenting the front of the device to the trio, the tablet showed a news feed featuring an article with the catching tagline: “Local high schoolers solve kidnapping crisis” The picture aside the reading featured a group of teens standing in the front of the town hall, earning the mayors congratulations. “One of them reminded me a lot of you when you first confronted me.” 3 kids within the shot draw the trios attention, Todd himself left quite astonished. A blue haired young man dressed in white, a smile planted across his face. A purple haired youth missing an arm, his depressed glare drawing away from the camera. An orange haired lass sporting overalls, a fake grin to hide her hints of worry. “Isn’t that...” the white haired man wonders. “Well, I’ll be damn.” the green haired woman goes. Upon the site of the blue boys goofy demeanor, the famous agent gives his own smirk. “Nice going kids. You’re on your way.” The tablet returning Chases person, he hears his adversary deliver his own message. “Well Chase...If you just came out all this way just to show me that...” Most of the agents within the diner compose themselves, ready for anything. “Then I’m afraid I just can’t let you leave here...not like this.”.

A bowl of banana split ice creams slams itself down upon the counter. The infamous villain stares down upon the potassium enriched dessert as Todd and the green haired girl sit aside. His rivals laughter filling his ears before the agent insists: “Come on Chase, eat up! It a party. Dig in.” Grasping the desert spoon aside the bowl, he turns his gaze over to the beatific man to his side and questioning: “Didn’t you just eat have breakfast?” “Aw, come on. Who cares? There’s always time for ice cream, right.” the famous agent remarks before chomping down on a Neapolitan ice cream sandwich. Looking through the surrounding diner, Chase partook in the view of the opposing agents around him enjoying themselves to the variety of desserts. From frozen bars, to ice cream cones. From bowls full, to ice cream cake, everyone seem to be in glee over their frozen dairy treats. With this site, the villainous man shrugs off the odd circumstance and scoops up a spoonful of the split set before him. The sweet cooling flavor of the treat relieves his senses.

“So, how have things been, Chase? Those kids of yours doing well?” “Drake and Shen Mi have been doing quite well in their training. Steadily growing these past several years.” “How old are those two now? Last I check, Drake was around 12, I think?” “Drake and Shen Mi are both 19 and 13 respectively.”. “That old, eh? Heh...Kids growing up so fast.” “What about your kids, Todd?” the green haired woman woman. “Mine, well…I-” “Do you even remember the last time you’ve seen your family?” the white haired man adds. “God, I can’t remember. It’s been years since I last visited them...maybe around 10 or so? SUPERIOR’s always got me flying around the world. Always something happening. Sure do miss them.” “You could always retire.” Chase suggests. Upon letting out a light chuckle upon the notion, the agent mentioning how: “You’d like that, wouldn’t you, Chase?” Letting out a heavy sigh at the end of his laughter, Todd looks looks upon the sheen of the counter top. He’s met with his own heavy expression in the reflection of the marble as he declines with: “Nah. With all the heroes around retired to raise their own families or pursue their dreams, someones still gotta be around to protect the world. I’d love more then anything to go back home to my family…They probably hate me for leave them for so long…But...”. Lifting his gaze above the counter, he then shares his thoughts for the future. “It’s a hope of mine that with this new generation, a league of heroes may rise and take the mantle. And let me catch a break.” “Lest you forget, that with a new league of heroes, and alliance of villains shall form among them.” Chase warns. “Yep, but...I’ll just leave them with the new kids...” Withdrawing a deep breath into his lungs, Todd cuts back with: “In the mean time… What say we cheer for the success of the new generation?” With that claim, Todd presents his ice cream treat to his longtime rival in a similar manner one would toast a wine glass. Chase gives a slight smile and returns the gesture with his dessert spoon. “To the new generation.”

Within the shadow of a lone room, a single light shines down upon Roy as he prowls through a table full of documents and pictures; the laptop at the end logged onto a magical siting forum. “That bitch has to be out there somewhere. I ain’t stopping til I find her.” the purple merc growls. The door behind him opens, pouring in natural daylight from behind a dark figure. The purple merc blocks his eyes from the glow, the sunshine irritating his vision. “Roy, what are you doing in here?” a familiar voice rings out. The boys vision adjusting to the natural glow, he finds Mally awaiting in the doorway. “Oh, hey Mal. Just trying to track down the fiery cunt of a witch that took my arm’s all. How you doing?” “How am I? Roy, you haven’t left this room for several days. You haven’t been to school or your mercenary job. Plus you stink. Like actually stink. For hell almighty man, take a fucking shower!” the girl demands. “Pfft, fuck school, always waking me up in the middle of classes, keep telling them that’s how I learn shit, but they don’t listen. And my merc work can wait. Aside from the money I send to my mom, I got cash to burn for months on end. I ain’t coming outta this room, til find that magical bitch beast.” “And what’s you’re plan once ya do find her, huh? Kill her?” “Oh, I ain’t just gonna kill her. I’m just gonna collect the debt she owes for inflicting me with my newly found disability: one freshly ripped off arm. Might just attach it to where she blast mine off after I beat her to death with it. How’s that for irony!?” Roy declares. “Insanity be more like it.” the voice in his head pipes up. “I’m not insane! You’re insane dammit! You been driving me crazy ever since you wormed your way into my head!” Holy shit. This is worse then the orange haired skater feared. She could not help but stare in wide eyed disbelief as her purple brother screamed to himself. Turning back to the desk with a composing breath, Roy insisted that: “If both of you will excuse me. I got work to get back to.”

Letting out a sigh herself, Mally declares to the violet mercenary: “I guess I can’t really get you outta here, can I? Not unless I offer this!”. “Offer wha-!” A gaze back to his adopted sister had shown her in possession of Roy’s purple hood, nearly restored to its former glory, baring the only exception being the stitched up arm socket. A longing stare painted across the mercs face, he begins to slowly approach, his single arm reaching out for his treasured apparel. “You...You fixed my hoodie? Even stitched up the arm hole.” “Yep, took Tore a couple days, but he knitted and patched it up as good as new.” “Gimme Gimme Gimme!” Roy rapidly demands as he reaches for the hoodie. Mally halts his desires to reunite with his beloved hood, putting her hand over his face as he tries to nab the article of clothing. “Come on. Just let me have it, already!” “Ah ah ah! Not so fast. You want this back, you gotta do as I say.” her sister demands, pushing him away. “Oh piss off!” “Don’t you piss off me! I’m doing this for your own good. Unless you rather not see your precious hoodie again? Probably best to donate to a needy child who can use it to shield themselves from the bitter cold of the nightly air.” “Just go with the girl. It wouldn’t hurt to indulge her.” the voice urges. The purple merc lets out a loud groan as he claws his own face, admitting defeated. “Fine, you win. What do ya want me to do?” “First, you’re gonna do everyone around the block a huge favor and take a god damn shower already. After that, I’m taking you on a little trip.”

Right after cleaning himself off, Mally led the purple merc to the dwellings of Serena’s shop. Colorfully enchanted fumes rise from the alchemic bottle and beakers as the brewing witch herself sort through her assorted collection of elixirs. “So, got anything that might help us out?” her orange haired customer wonders. “Unfortunately, I don’t have anything that can aid your missing limb dilemma. However, I do hold an assortment of anxiety and stress relief potions among my wares. Care to try any of those? Both girls gazes turned towards Roy, he lets out an apathetic breath and admits: “Whatever. Got nothing to lose. Hit me.” Tossing a blue elixir towards the boy, the merc catches it in mid air and pops the top off. “Bottoms up.” he decrees before drinking the entire bottle. “Um...” Serena tries to chime in, worry drawn on her face. After he down the last drop of the mystic elixirs, Mally stands curious and asks if he’s: “Feeling anything?” A glance at the front of the bottle, the label show itself to read: “Anxiety antidote”. “Not really, just this weird burning sensation in my sto-” Suddenly, the boy drops the bottle and covers his mouth; the glass shatters to piece upon impact with the concrete floor. “Roy! What’s the matter!? Is it working?”. The boys face turning a shade of navy, a bellow of blue flames spout from his maw, illuminating the basement in a soft cerulean glow.

After that sudden fiery expulsion, Roy starts coughing up blue smoke in the aftermath as Serena puts out the leftover flares. “What the hell happened!?” Mally exclaims. “I’m...not sure. I’ve never seen something like this happen before. Then again, I’ve never seen anybody down an entire bottle, so that might explain it.” the witch concludes.

Clearing his lungs of any pollution, he takes a much needed breather and remarks with: “God damn, my throat hurts.” “Feeling any better?” Mally asks. “Hmm...” Wondering if the potion that he had just injected had any psychological effect, he test such a theory, by taking a glimpse of the spot where his left arm use to firmly sit and concludes that: “Nope. Nothing.” “Huh...Kay Serena, bring the next bottle.” “What!? Aw hell naw! You’re not making me chug another one of those things down!” Roy denies. “Don’t worry. You should be totally fine...Barring you don’t gulp down the whole thing.” Serena reinforces as she pulls out an orange potion.

After letting out an irritated groan, he takes the elixir from the witches hands. Drinking the citrus mixture by a couple gulps, his mouth smacks at the taste. “Anything?” Mally wonders. “Is this orange sod-” Before Roy’s answer could fully escape, a sudden pain inflicts the boy, his palms resting upon his temples. Out from the boys purple noggin, tree branches sprouted from the sides of his head; the sudden imbalance causes him to fall to the floor. Looking down upon the merc, she wonders if they should continue with this increasingly endangering elixir endeavor. “Mmm...Maybe one more.”

A quick saw and file of the wood later and Roy takes a seat back, rubbing the temples of his head to check if not a splinter was left. Serena presents him with one more potion to try Serena him to: “Try this one.” Staring into the purple hue of the elixir, he swipes the drink from the brewers grasp, settling with: “Fuck it. Third times the charm.” Taking in a cautious sip of the brew, he proves careful to only let a few drips of the potion down. “Well?” Mally wonders. A few moments come to pass before the next predicament unfolds itself. Roy begins to tremor furiously; the vibrations that the boy gives off shake the entire shop. “What is happening!?” Mally asks. “My precious shop!” Serena panics. The bottles and beakers set all throughout the room the begin to shake, the countless glass clacking with one another. Serena acts fast to catch any bottles that venture off the shelves and threaten to break upon the hard concrete floor. “Roy! Make this stop!” It takes not a single moment for the merc to resolve this quaking predicament. Floating above the concrete to halt the earthquake, the shop ceases to shake in conjunction. The ladies in the room share a sigh of relief once the quake had stopped in its tracks. “Glad that didn’t last long. For a second there, I thought the whole house was gonna come down on…What-what are you doing?” Mally turning to her purple brother, she finds Roy to be still vibrating among the air. “I DoN’t KnOw.” he admits, the uncontrollable shaking distorting his voice. She approaches the purple angel and with but a simple connecting touch, the house begins to tremble once more. Quickly withdrawing her grasp, she shakes off any leftover vibration and turns back to the witch. “Is this supposed to happen?” “No. All of the potions we tried seem to be rejecting him. I don’t know why. I doubt any more might work.”

“That’s it! I’m bouncing outta this goddamn brew bonanza!” the boy shakes on objections. “Wait! Wait! Roy! Roy! Listen. We’ve only just started. Ya can’t give up now.” “Why? You heard her. None of these potions will do jack shit for me.” “I know, but I got other friends I can take you to. This recovery cruise ain’t sunk yet.” “Fine. But this whole shaking shit fit better not last long.” “Oh, don’t worry. The potions effects should wear off momentarily...maybe.” “Alright, lets get going.” Hearing Serena give a fake cough, both turn towards the witch to find her presenting her awaiting palm. “Those potions weren't exactly free.” Catching a quick glance from his orange haired sister, Roy pulls out his wallet with an escaping groan.

Once the shaking had ceased, the two head over to another one of Mally’s friends, hoping a certain boney buddy of hers can help with Roy’s endeavor.

Inspecting the spot where the young man’s arms once stood, Vivian lets out a pondering; “Hmmm” “So, think you can do anything?” Mally asks them. “Damn, you were right. It is just gone. Not even a fucking stump’s left.” After her less then thorough inspection is complete, she attempts to comfort the disabled angel. “Anyway, Best not piss yourself, mate. My arm pops off all the time. It ain’t that bad.” “Doesn’t yours reattach?” Roy responds. “I’m sure yours can too. Just gotta sow the damn thing back on. Where’s you’re arm anyway?” “Disintegrated.” “Oh...Well fuck, guess that’s out the window.” “Ain’t there something you can do.” Mally wonders. “Ummm” A quick moment to wonder and an idea pops into the skeletons head. With a quick part of their socket, Vivi sticks their skeletal arm onto where Roy’s once sat, the merc irking upon the sudden attachment. Gazing towards the newly attached limb, the merc finds the arm to be uncomfortably dug into his person. “Um...”.= “There we go. Now you looking damn spiffy, son.” “Don’t you need that?” Mally worries. “It ain’t for keeps. Just letting him borrow it. He gets it on weekends, and I keep it the rest of the week. How’s that sound, big guy?” Roy stands, taking in the site of the boney limb as it moves about without his input. With the limb giving him a thumbs up, Roy concludes that: “Yeah, this isn’t gonna work.” “Why not?” Mally questions. “Yeah! Think you’re too good for my arm, asshole!?” “Well, beside the fact that it can easily shatter in my line of work, I need a limb that I can reliably control. Especially in a fight. This, ain’t gonna cut it.”. The boney limb suddenly falling out of Roy’s socket, he adds: “Also that.” “Fucking...Jeez.” Vivi quietly remarks. “Well, guess we’ll go somewhere else. Sorry for wasting your time Viv.” Mally apologizes. “Hold the fucking phone. I might have one more thing I can try. Hate to use the damn thing, but for you Mally, I’m willing to give it a shot.” “Okay, what is it?” “Just...wait there for a second. Kay?” Vivi says before rushing out of the living room.

Once Vivi absconds from the living room, Roy turns to his sister with a sudden suggestion. “I’m not sure we should stick around.” “Roy, listen. I know Vivi can act, uh...Bluntly...but they can really come through for us in a pinch. Trust me. You just gotta relax.” A sharp blade enters Mally’s line of site, coming into the living room attached to a black pole. Vivi soon enters, the scythe firmly in their grip. “Okay, lets get this shit done, bitches!” “Uh Vivi, what are you plan on doing with that scythe?” “Listen kid, I appreciate you trying to evening me out. But I’d rather have the arm I have left, thank you.” “No no no, listen. This ain’t just some regular ass scythe, see. It’s powered by the souls of the damned.” “Liking the plan so far.” Roy adds. “And I’m gonna try and use it to make ya sprout a new arm.”. “Are you sure you know how to use that?” Mally questions. “Duh, of course. I saw my grim reaper bitch use it a ton a times.” Wielding the scythe like a rifle, she aimed the tip with the blade towards the purple merc. “Now hold still while I shoot ya ass.” “Hang on! I don’t know if this is gonna hurt-”

A lime green ray sprouts out of the tip of the scythe at the merc, sending waves of nightmarish energy coursing through his very being. As this horrible process was developing, screams of pain escape Roys mouth, muffled by the sounds of screaming souls. The zapping finished, the young man falls in a smoking mess, Mally rushing to his aid. “Roy!” She lift the merc from the floor, concerning with: “You feeling okay?” “Yeah, think I’m fine.” “Feel any different?” Vivi asks. “Don’t think so. Just this weird feeling on my left sid-” An intense feeling suddenly befalls the young man, urging him to grasp the spot where his arm was; grunts of pain slipping past his teeth. Witnessing her brothers side convulse and, Mally slowly begins to back away wondering out loud: “What’s happening!?” “Guess the scythes working its magic.” Vivi guesses. The young mans grunts evolve into full blown screams as he writhes on the living room carpet, his left side violently pulsating. At long last, something erupts out from Roy’s arm spot, flying across the living room and landing behind the arm chair with a squishy plop. Nearing him once more, Mally inspects Roys left, finding no visible injuries to speak of. No blood, no guts, cuts, bruises, but alas, not even a nub to pass for a limb; the side completely clean. “Roy, a-are you alright?” she cautiously worries. “Auugh! Fuckin hell, that hurt!”

Amidst reviewing her recovering brother, the orange haired skater hears her skeletal friend attempting got nab their attention with: “What is it?” Mally asks, turning to the half skeleton, finding Vivi’s disgusted gaze to be fixated behind the chair. Leaving the purple mercs side to approach, she looks to where Vivi’s site was locked; horrified by what she had found. “What is that?” Mally questions in a contemptuous fashion. “I have...no fucking clue.” After recovering from his painful agony, Roy gets up and takes to the others side, wondering: “Ahh...What are you two going on about back he-...What in the ever loving name of hell is that horrid pile of shit?” Before the abhorrent felt trio stood a small mound of skin and flesh, laid in a pile behind the arm chair. “Did...that come out of me?” “Guess...Guess it did.” Mally stutters to answer. “The hell do you think we should do with it?” Vivi questions, poking the horrid heap of meat with the blunt end of the scythe. Upon the constant nudges, the terrifying beef mound begins to rapidly convulse; all of them stepping away and anxiously awaiting what the wayward meat might do. All of them look on with utter repugnance as the flesh before them sprouts a countless set of limbs from its sides. A jagged set of chompers rip open upon its top, a gurgling scream escaping the newly formed maw. With its newfound appendages, the terrible flesh blob scuttles out of the living room. “...That ain’t good, is it?” Mally wonders. “Nope.” Roy reinforces. “Quick, after it!” Vivi commands.

Peeking within the confines of the clean kitchen, the trio scan around for any signs of the meaty heap. Cautiously, they slowly enter the cooking area, preparing themselves for wherever their horrid hunt might pop out. Mally turns to the aid of her purple brother, hope that he might sense its presence. “Alright, Roy. Where do you think it might be?” “No clue.” “What do you mean no clue? Can’t you sense its energy or something?” “It’s a pile of undead flesh. Can’t sense its life force if it doesn’t got any. Take ya friend for example. Can tell they’re not playing with a full tank if you catch my drift.” “Hey, piss off, my tank is plenty full.” Vivi retaliate.

Mally ventures about the kitchen, wondering where the grotesque pile of inhuman matter scurried to. The sound of soft gargling coming from above, she looks atop the fridge, finding their prey burying itself with the contents of a cookie jar. “Guys. Look. I found it.” she whispers to her friends. Taking in a view of the preoccupied undead before them, Roy readies his aim, the mercs pointing finger prepared to fire. “Careful. Just need to take the shot while it’s-” “I gots this!” Vivi blurts. The sudden shout alerts everyone in the room towards Vivi’s direction, including the mound of flesh as it lift itself from the jars contents. The half skeleton bolts towards the ice box, brandishing the unholy sycthe in their hands. Their orange haired amigo jumps aside from their readying upward slash, astonished how cleanly of a cut the weapon had made to the appliance. “Did I get the little shit?” Vivi asks. Aside themselves, the disgusting abomination scuttles across the counter top. “Hit the deck!” the two hear Roy warn, aiming his finger towards their escaping target. Quickly ducking under, the duo evade the purple mercs shadowy beams. Several shot are fired in the meat monsters direction, each shot missed breaking a part of the kitchen. In it’s escape, the flesh growth could be seen scuttling out towards the hallway. Mally jumps over the counter, wielding her hockey stick in pursuit of the small horror.

In her chase, the hockey wielding hero attempts to quell the undead blobs venture, swinging her weapon about the cramped walls of the hall. None of her attempts succeed, instead shattering and breaking the picture frames decorating the hallway in her failed assault. Dammit! Just stand still already!

The orange haired lasses pursuit of the nightmarish imp leads her into the confines of a strange bedroom, taken aback by the bizarre décor laid strewn within the dwelling. Whoa, what the hell’s going on in this part of the neighborhood? Glowing sphere, weird looking statue, odd shaped necklaces around the mirror. Almost like the lass had stepped into the chamber of a mystic gypsy. Its a wonder if some of this stuff is even man made. Right in Mally’s peaking wonder, Vivi rushes inside in a maddening fluster. “Hey, hey, hey! Why the hell are ya trying snoop through my room for!?” “I-I saw that flesh thing come in here.” “Alright, lets waist this bitch, where’d it-...What-...what’s with all this weird junk?” Roy questions. Gazing towards the night stand, the merc finds a glowing crystal ball; the terrible souls within streaking through the gemstone. “Is that a mother fucking soul sphere? Where the bleeding hell did you nab one a those?” “Just get the hell outta my room! I’ll draw out the little bastard out and you flank it!” Vivi demands in a red fluster. “Aight, jeez!”

Both guest having absconded from her dwellings, Vivi slams the door shut with a nervous sigh. God, why did that damn fleshy piece of corpse shit have to crawl its way in here? The better question being where said cadaver imp might be lurking. A quick protrude through their closet shows the meat mound to not be hiding within. Ain’t there. Looking under her bed proved to be useless, as the creature was nowhere down there. Not there either. Dammit, where the hell is it hiding? Hearing the sound of scuttling steps behind them, the half skeleton turns about to find a glimpse of her hunt taking shelter behind the dresser. Gotcha now, bitch. With little hesitance or caution, Vivi slashes the scythe down upon their dresser, the wooden drawer splitting in half. They catch the undead horror show scurrying away from the broken piece of furniture and fleeing towards the back of the bed. No you don’t! A reckless swipe towards the soft mattress and the bed was sliced in two, the sentient growth crawling its way to the ceiling fan. Come on! Once more, Vivi wields the damned weapon, swinging the sharp blade overhead. The strike sends the fan crashing upon her person as the meaty monster scuttles away. God dammit!

Vivi’s two guests await to ambush the horrid mess of flesh outside the bedroom, the occasional echo of destruction reaching beyond the door. “So, you see anything in that girl or what?” the purple merc asks his orange haired sister. “Who, Vivi? Well, uh...She nice, cool, hyperactive, crazy. I like her a lot.” “A lot, huh? More then that red head your thirsty for?” “Chloe? No, I- Pfft, thirsty? What makes you think I like Chloe like that?” Mally attempts to deflect with a bombastically fake laughter. Not a single word escapes Roys tongue, his obviously knowing look being more then enough of a response. Her fake guffaw quickly dies down, and is soon replaced with a weary sigh as she wonders: “Is it that blatant?” “Oh, your thirst for red cream soda is very clear.” “I-I mean, Vivi’s really really awesome, but...I’m just holding out for Chloe. Ya know?” “Why not just have both of them? Like a...banana, strawberry and cherry fruit punch Sunday.” “A-at the same time!? I-I don’t know. I haven’t even had one girlfriend before. Not sure I could handle two at once.” Mally responds, her face red like a tomato. “Come on. How hard can it be? I mean I hookup with more then one person from time to time.” “Flings don’t count Roy. I mean like actual relationships. Have you ever actually been in one that wasn’t just a hookup?” “Um...Well...Oh, there was-...No wait, that didn’t happen...Huh...Guess not.” “Then may you ain’t the best guy to give out advice like that, are ya?” “Probably.”

Right then and there is when the bedroom door unexpectedly slices in half, the fleshy horror, scuttling past in their surprise. “Quick! Get it!” Vivi shouts.

Quick to the chase is Mally, who witnesses the hunt retreat back to the living room. Back at the scene of the crime, the hockey wielding hero spots terrifying growth upon the TV screen. Hurling her weapon towards her target, the horrid creature scurries away from the flying stick that instead impales itself in the television. Vivi is next to enter the scene, locking her site onto the living pile of flesh as it crawls behind the couch. The strawberry blonde flails their blade at the monster, slicing the sofa in pieces as she finds the mound of meat scurrying away. Roy comes in not a moment sooner, finding the abomination born from his flesh held up on the ceiling. Swiftly, the merc waist no time dispatching his hell spawn with a full blown blast of darkness, but blowing a massive hole in Vivi’s roof in the destructive process.

Vanquishing the hideous growth, the three bask in the pleasurable cloudy sky above from the broken roof. “Huh...guess that fucking happened. Maybe another might work.” Vivi wonders, aiming the scythe once more towards Roy. “No!” both of their guests blurt out. “I-I mean. No, thanks Vivi. I’m sure you’ve done all you could. We’ll just go somewhere else for help.” Mally tries to relay. “Alright, but my parents are gonna freak the fuck out when they see their house trashed like a crack junkies favorite hiding spot. Probably cost them upwards of...I don’t know, 10,000 bucks or some shit.” “Oh, We’ll be happy to cover for any damages to your home might’ve received. Right Roy?” Mally avows, looking towards her one armed brother. An irritated growl escapes the purple mercs mouth as he reluctantly takes out his wallet once more.

Upon exiting from the abode, Roy tells Mally: “Right, now if there ain’t no more torturous situations you want to parade me through today, I going back home. Wasted enough time and money as is.” “Hang on! I’m nowhere near done yet. There’s still a couple more people I wanna take you to.” “Oh come on, who else could you possibly have left to put me through the wringer?”

“Of course I’d be happy to help.” Kingsley happily offers. “Your kidding, right? Why’d you drag me to his sexy twink ass? I already said I don’t want a robot arm. It’d break the first moment I’d punch some bastards jaw clean off.” “No, but I can help in others ways. I’m not just a technician, you know.” “Just give him a shot, Roy. He has pulled off miracles for us before. Maybe he can with you.” Mally advises. “Fine. Work you’re magic, miracle worker.” “See Roy, your problem is that your obsession for revenge is purely a psychological affair. No amount of potions or magic can fix that. What you need is a good old fashioned psycho analysis.” “And you’re gonna be my psychiatrist? You even certified?” Roy questions. “Well...Not exactly. But I’ve been meaning to get into psychiatry for a while now. This could be just the dive in I need.” Turning towards his sister, the purple merc is greeted with a sincere smile, a clear sign of desiring acceptance. “Just give him a chance. You never know if might actually help.” the voice in Roys head echoes. Letting out weary groan, he surrender to the prospect of therapy. “Fine, lets just gets circus performance over with.”

Resting upon the gentle memory foam of the boy geniuses bed, Roy lets himself sink into the softness of the mattress. “This beds comfy as balls.” At the bedside, Kingsley himself sits with laptop in lap, ready to take note of whatever psychological info may sprout. “Right, so where should we start first? Childhood? Job? Mental state? Hit me.” Roy offers. “How about we not go down those revenues today. For now, lets just talk about your arm. How did losing your arm make up feel?” “Pissed. How else?” “Okay, um. In what way? Like sad angry, crazy angry, what?” “Angry angry.” “Alright, rough start. That’s fine. Um, how do you feel about, hnn...Circe?” Kingsley asks. “Probably same as you do. I mean she did shoot a hole in your chest.” “Oh, so you’re feeling really scared about her. Is that right?” “What, no. I’m talking revenge. Getting her back for what she did to you.” “Okay, but uh…Are you sure that revenge is the best option?”. “Are you saying that she shouldn’t pay for what she almost did to our friends?” Roy rebuttals. Failing to muster a response, all Kingsley could do was stare nervously at his patient. “Hmm...”.

Outside, Mally awaits for the session to end via a makeshift waiting area; a small bowl of delicious suckers rest upon a table between the seat. Sweeping the bowl of sweets in her grasp, she digs through the various flavors, hoping to uncover the one she desires. Come on. It’s gotta be in here. Pulling out a cherry sucker, the orange hair lasses face beams with joy. Yes. The tarty sweetness of the red fruit is always a taste to enjoy. Hesitating not a moment longer, she unwraps the little treat and pops the candy into her mouth. As she enjoys the succulent flavors of the sucker, a voice chimes in from her side, asking the lass: “What are you doing?” A gaze to her left gives her a view of Cayenne staring her down. “Just waiting for Roy’s to get through his therapy session.” she responds. “Therapy?” “Yeah. Kingsley helping Roy get over his lost arm.” “Huh. Didn’t think Kingsley was a therapist. Maybe he can sort my shit out when he’s done.” Cayenne wonders, taking the seat next to her guest. “Got some issues to work out?” “Some.” “Wanna talk about em?” “Nope.” Failing to bait anymore words forward, Mally instead offers the bowl of suckers to the spice queen. Cayenne glances down the dish full of tasty treats, tempting at the prospect of picking a flavor.

“How about we just go through some hypotheticals, huh? What’s you’re plan on tracking her down.” the purple mercs psychiatrist wonders. “Well, I’ve been going through police reports, sightings, forum boards, deep web searches, all the nooks and crannies I can stick my dick into non stop.” “And how long have you’ve been at this?” “Don’t know, about several days now.” “How all that working out for you?” Roy averts his gaze from him upon the question, not a single answer escaping from his mouth. An all too clear sign to the novice therapist that his patient is hesitant to admit his lack of progress. “Nothing, huh?” Again, the one armed merc fails to muster a single word, only giving his therapist a disappointed groan for a response. “Roy. That’s fine. It’s nothing to be ashamed of. You’re not gonna find somebody in hiding in about a week.” Seeing his patient refusing to even glance in his direction, Kingsley opts to fish for one more answer. “Why don’t I ask one more question, before we wrap this up, huh? What do you plan on doing when you find Circe?” Upon the question reaching his ears, the purple merc begins to rise from the memory foam bedding. “Oh ho, that’s an easy one. First thing I’m doing once I find that mystic witch bitch is tear her arm right outta her socket in the most horribly painful fashion imaginable. I want her to feel the exact kind of pain she gave me.” Standing on the side Kingsley was sitting upon, Roy slowly begins turning his gaze towards his therapist as he continues. “Then, I’m gonna sow the arm I ripped off where mine was and slap her senseless with it til she’s nothing but a sobbing mess of tears and blood.” Slowly beginning to creep his way towards his therapist, Kingsley starts to back away from his patient in kind. “Honestly, I’d say that be what anybody wants if they’d gone through the same shit I did. But apparently that just makes me coo coo for cocoa puffs, don’t it? Now do I look like a cuckoo bird to you, Kingsley?” Met face to face with the merc sinister gaze, Kingsley struggles to come up with even the faintest of answers towards his awaiting patient. Finally, he takes a breath and lets out a request. “Can you excuse me for a moment?”

The boy genius sudden abscond from the makeshift office catch the girls awaiting outside off guard, who watch as he slams the door shut tight in his haste. “Nope.” Rising from her waiting room seat, Mally questions the frightened therapist with: “What happened? Did you find what’s wrong with him?” Drawing in another deep breath, Kingsley clasps both hands together as he prepares to admit: “Mally, I’m going to be complete transparent with you. I was not prepared for how far off Roy was at all. He needs to see an actual therapist, preferably behind a 12 inch sheet of reinforced glass.” “So...nothing then.” “I’m sorry Mally. I can’t help him.” Looking down into the carpeting of the halls, the worry that her brother might fall into the depths of his own revenge fueled madness echoes through the poor girls thoughts.

“Dude don’t need therapy.” Cayenne chimes in. A quick turn from behind, they witness the spice queen rise from her seat. “You got any ideas?” “Guys pissed about his arm getting blown off, right? Just needs help blowing off all that steam. All that’s that tension and stress’s probably driving him fucking nuts.” After a hearty bite that breaks the sweet in her mouth into tiny piece, she struts over to the bedroom door with a smile full of smug and glare full of sass. “So why don’t you two wait out here while I go make the purple jack off inside feel all better.” Cayenne closing the door behind her, both orange heads turn to one another. Wonder what she might have in store to help with Roy debilitating mentality.

Not a second later, the wall beside the bedroom door erupts in a mess of dust and wood. The clouds settling to reveal Roy, laying upon the wrecking of the opposite side. Coughing out the wall dust, he looks towards the hole in the wall with an irritated demeanor. Out from it, Cayenne walks with a taunt in waiting. “Come on, ya purple bitch. That all ya got? Or did losing your arm make ya suck at fighting even more?” Not a single moment does the merc hesitate to lunge towards the spice queen, kicking her out the bedroom window and into the luxurious backyard.

Upon landing in the middle of the garden, Cayenne witnesses her purple foe in following and dashing straight down towards her. She dodges out of the way, leaving Roy to stomp on the rose bush, the petals scattering upon impact. The merc then shoots out a ray of darkness out of his single hand, which Cayenne easily deflects. She sees Roy dashing towards her, and prepares to counter. Instinctively, he tries to punch to the left, but with no arm on that side, all that is left is for him to be smashed into the ground by Cayenne. Roy tries to quickly get back up from the blow, but his uneven balance makes him jump to the left. Getting his footing back, he sees Cayenne rushing toward him. After blocking two of her kicks with his legs, he dodges a punch coming to his right. He tries to counter, but again with no arm, he can’t. Cayenne takes the moment to punch Roy into the fountain. The garden décor shatters upon impact, the debris falling upon the boy.

Getting up from the rubble, Roy sees Cayenne slowly approaching. He takes a huge chunk of the broken fountain and chucks it in his opponents direction. Cayenne easily destroys the oncoming stone, the shattering clouding her view. From the dust, a foot plants itself firmly on her face, sending her flying across the garden, breaking a fence and a garden decoration or two. Upon getting back up, a gleeful smile is drawn upon the spice queens face. “You cheeky bitch.”

Both rush towards one another, Cayenne goes on the attack, but Roy ducks under and kicks her aside. As Cayenne skids away, she quickly fire red beams from her eyes at her opponent. Roy blocks the beams with a single hand, but is having difficulty holding it back with only one arm. Cayenne quickly pursues as Roy holds the ray back. The intensity of the beam growing stronger on approach. The merc distracted, she punches him square in the stomach. While in his range, Roy grabs Cayenne hair and delivers a hard headbutt to her face. Both fighters go reeling back from the blows, trying to regain themselves. Once stable, they witness the other smiling. “So, guessing from that smug ass grin of your, you enjoying yourself?” Cayenne asks. “Little bit, yeah.” Roy admits. “Good. Cause I ain’t holding back anymore.” “Funny, I thought this was all you had.” “Heh heh, I was gonna say the same thing.” The two of them begin to charge towards once another, ready to get serious.

Before the clash could carry on any further, Mally steps in between the approaching duo with an urging: “Stop!” Both halt their midair collision right in the nick of time, inches away from the interacting orange lass. “What the hell, kid? Why’d you stop us like that?” Cayenne complains. “Yeah, I was actually have fun for a second there.” Roy adds. Rushing out from the back door, Kingsley sprints in the scene, pleading: “She’s right. You gotta stop. Cayenne, remember what I said about getting rid of stress like this?” “This ain’t nothing like those club fights, Kingsley. It’s just a sparing match. No need to get so bent outta fucking shape.”. “Then what do you call that!?” Mally questions, presenting all the destruction they caused as counter evidence. “...Practice.”. A quick groan escaping her lips, Mally turns to her black winged brother and question. “Roy, be honest. Is all of this actually making you feel any better?” “Well...No. I mean it’s fun, but still feel like shit. Think I might just go home and lay in bed...forever.” “Wait a sec. Kingsley might’ve had a point about your whole arm thing being psychological... I think I might have one more person I wanna take ya to.” “Oh he-hell no! If it involves any more painful experimentation on my part, then you can fucking forget it sister.” “No no no. Trust me, I think you’re gonna like this.”

“Um, what about the backyard?” Kingsley wonders as the gardens burn and the broken fountain leaks. “What about the backyard? You’re fucking loaded, mate. This kinda shit right here probably cost you guys peanuts.” Roy mentions “Not unless you got a sue happy dad like mine. One time he found a fly in his soup at a restaurant and sued the whole place for literally everything. Even the employees.” “He sued the employees?” Mally wonders. “He sued “for” the employees.” “Why the hell she ain’t paying for it then? Damn bitch kicked off the whole backyard brawl.” the merc questions, an accusing finger pointed towards the spice queens direction. “You think I can pay for all this shit? Naw, man. I’m flat broke.” With next to no choice on the matter, the purple haired young man takes out his wallet once more to pay for his shenanigans.

A knock at the door upon a quaint suburban home sounds forth, Mally and Roy awaiting for the residence of the abode to answer, with a new party member joining for the occasion. “Thanks for showing us where your cousins staying Mel. Don’t think we could have found the address on our own.” “No prob. Just watch whatcha say around my aunt. She’s nice, but can be a very...temperamental woman” “In what regard?” Roy wonders. “Just watch how ya talk, kay?” The door opens, on the other side was a jolly round man, greeting them with a friendly smile. “Hey there, Melvin. These your friends?” “Yo, Uncle Hoagie. Is Hank home?” “Yep. The boy’s right inside, come on in.” The man of the house leads them within the humble abode, half full box littering some of the floor board. “Sorry about the mess. Still unpacking from the move. Just make yourselves comfortable.” His guest taking their seats, the man announces from across the living room.” “Kay, baby. Just tell em to wait in the living room. I’ll go get him.”

The father having left the scene, Roy finds it the perfect time to ask Mally: “So, why exactly did you drag me here again?” “Because, I wanna show you how you losing an arm isn’t the end of the world. And I think I might've found the guy who can finally burn through your doubts.” “Really? Cause the only thing you managed to burn through today was my bank account.” “That stuff was just spare cash to you anyway.” “I was gonna buy cool shit with it!” “What the hell did you say, boy!? I don’t care if you lost ya arm, you ain’t gonna be cursing in my house!” the mother shouts, the sudden demand making all of them jump from their seat. “Warned ya.”

Within one of the homes bedrooms, Roy enters to find the dwelling to be decorated with blue prints, devices, half built machines, and odd looking collectible cards. Not to shabby for a mechanic. Kind of a mess though. On the far end of the room was a desk with various mechanical tools and parts with a boy in a red cap sitting behind. “Heyo! You must be Roy. Mally told me all about what happened to you. Losing your arm and stuff.” the boy greets. “You Hank? Tell me, what exactly does she think you’ll do to make me feel peachy. Fight me, shock me? Poor boiling milk on my head? Come on, I’m ready for anything here. Bring it.” “Nah, nothing like that. I’m just tell ya how I felt when I was in your shoes.” “You? What makes you think I know what I’m going through?” “Oh...” The boy comes out from behind the desk, revealing himself to be sitting in a strange looking wheelchair. “I think I have some experience under my belt.” The sudden reveal catches Roy off guard, making him ask the handicapped boy: “You- You’re legs. They give out on ya?” “Well, kind of...It’s kind of a long story. Why don’t you take a seat.” A quick scan around the room proved to not have a lot of places one might rest. Whole room cluttered with half built gizmos and gadgets, there’s barely anyplace to sit. “Uh, where at?” “Um...Don’t know. Wanna borrow mine?” Hank offers. “What?” “Heh, heh. Just kidding. Just push the stuff off my bed. It’s fine. As the handicapped had requested, Roy pushes all the clutter weighing his bed to give himself a seat. Why’s he got all this junk everywhere? Think he’d give himself more room to wheel around. “Sorry about the mess. I’ve been meaning to clean up for a while. But I’ve been kinda busy. Anyway, I wanna tell you about the time I’ve discovered two of my greatest passions.”

“When I was really young, I was inspired with what my dad had built in his youth. I wanted to build stuff that was just like his, maybe even better. So I got to work. Building contraptions and gizmo with all my spare time. It’s there that I discovered my love for aviation. I wanted to build the best planes I could. I’d spend all day and night with all kinds of designs, weeks tinkering and tweaking to make sure they were the best they could be. Even test them out myself. And let me tell you, the first time I soared through the open air, the clouds in my head and the wind in my face, it was magical.

But then, at the ripe age of 8, disaster struck. Something went horribly wrong during one of my test flights. The inside of my cockpit was sparking, the controls weren’t working, the emergency eject wasn’t responding. It sent me into a whirling panic as I desperately tried to fight back for control. But before I knew it, I hit the ground. Dragging myself out from the wreckage, I’d lost all the feeling in my legs. It wasn’t until I was dragged to the hospital that I found out that I’d been left paralyzed from the waist down. I could no longer walk, run, or even stand. After that, I fell into such a horrible depression. Thinking that bound to wheelchair, I couldn’t do anything. I lost my drive...for building...for flying...and maybe...even for living. But one fateful day, when I was in the deepest pit of despair, I met a very famous man. An inventor, bound by the loss of his legs like I was. He personally showed me to his lab, presenting wonders that I would’ve never even dream of.

If he could make such ground breaking achievements without his legs, then what was stopping me. I hesitated no more. I got back in the game, my drive skyrocketing higher then ever before. I’ve made countless machines, gizmos and gadgets galore. Planes that have soared over the highest mountains and though the cloudiest skies. I don’t think I’d even be alive if it weren't for that man. He taught me one of the greatest lessons I ever heard. That in spite of body, your heart and mind, have no limit. And thanks to that, I was able to stand proud once more.”.

After listening to the boys heartfelt story of recovering depression, he realized what he said in last statement. “Wait...Stand proud?” Hank begins to snicker, the laughter escaping through his nose. “Can’t believe you caught that?” “But...Doesn’t it suck? That you can’t use you’re limbs anymore? That the burden may never go away?” “Yeah, at first it did, but I found work arounds. I built machines that can help me with everyday life. Help me get up stairs, go to the bathroom, even modified my chair to do a whole bunch of awesome stuff. Go off roading, stick to walls, launch missiles, even fly.” “Fly?” “Yeah, wanna see?” Hank asks. Throwing caution into the wind, Hank eagerly presses one of the buttons on his wheelchair. The seat takes flight, lifting him above the carpet floor and gliding him all across the room. “Pretty cool, huh! I can do this for minutes on end!” Smoke soon starts to come from the bottom of the chair and before he knew it, the boy had crashed back to the floor. The impact shaking the entire room, knocking over several machines down on the floor. “Heh, provided with fuel of course.” Helping Hank of the floor, both of them hear his mom shout: “Hank, what’d I tell you about flying indoors!?” “Sorry mom!” he apologizes. Getting back in his chair, Hank finishes with: “What I’m trying to get at is that losing my legs wasn’t the end of my world, and losing yours arm shouldn’t be the end of yours either.” Roy examines his left side, rubbing the spot where is arm used to be in contemplation.

Upon his exit from the bedroom, the purple merc is greeted with Mally and Melvin, awaiting for him in the hall. “So, feel any better?” Melvin asks. With an honest smile drawn across his face, he confirms to them that: “Yeah...I think I do.”. “So, does that mean you’re not gonna go after Circe?” Mally wonders. “Oh no. I’m still out for revenge. I’m ripping her arms off the moment I find her. But...I can let that happen in its own time. I’ll wait.” “Eh...Close enough. Least you’re feeling better” The girl throws Roy his fixed hoodie, the well earned, sentimental garment that he immediately dons. The stitching of the hood blanketing his skin makes him take in a deep breath, sighing with a sort of euphoric relief that he hasn’t felt in such a long time. “That’s the ticket.”

The wheelchair bound genius coming out of his room, Hanks wonders: “Did it work?”. “Looks like it did.” Melvin answers. “Awesome. Glad I could make your bro feel better Mally. Oh, before I forget!” Hank proclaims. Pulling out a yo yo from one of the compartments in his chair, Hank tosses the toy toward Mally. “Mally, catch.” Catching the seemingly harmless toy, the girl inspects reflective chrome finish, asking: “What’s this?” “It’s a new gadget that I made for you to test out. It’s a yoyo that can attach itself to any surface at will. With the combination of the high impact steel shell and ultra reinforced string, that gizmo should be strong enough to lift a heavy duty cargo hold.” “Awesome! What’s it called?”. “I...don’t know.  I guess the grapple yoyo. I’ve rarely been good with names.” Hank admits. “Well, I guess to mark the occasion, how bout, I call it...The Royo.” Everyone simply stares at the girl as she presents the yo yo over her head. Melvin breaks the silents by chiding: “That’s even worse.”. That insult makes Mally lower the gadget, a loud groan escaping from her mouth. “Just call it the grapplyo. It’s punchy, memorable, and gets the point across. Just like my di-”. “You betta not finish that sentence!? Else I’m gonna whoop yo ass!” Hanks mom shouts, making everybody jump.

Walking from the front porch of humble dwellings, the adopted sibling turn their attention to one another, Mally asking Roy: “So, that you’re not coo coo for cocoa puffs anymore, You joining us for this dance thing that Tore’s girlfriend invited us to.”. “Nah, rather just train somewhere. Get used to this new setup of mine, ya know.” “Alright see ya.” the orange haired skater finishes before on the cusp of taking off. “Hey Mally.” Roy tells, making his sister halt in her tracks. She turns towards the merc, asking with: “Yeah?” “...Thanks.” With a warm smile, the skate jockey returns the thanks with: “No sweat.” Both of them part their separate ways, Mally blading her way through the streets as Roy takes to the skies.

As he flies away from the geniuses abode, Roy takes in a deep breath of suburban air. “So, I take it you’re back to your usual masochistically deranged self?” the voice in his head questions. “You know it, baby.” “Good, I was beginning to worry for a moment that’d you finally snap.” “Speaking of worry. I need to ask you a couple things. Starting with you’re name.” “Pardon?”. “It’s pretty clear your not just some voice in my head. Ever since I’ve been struck by that pink stone in the fortress a while back, you haven’t left my head since. And where most internal voices would drive someone to madness, you’ve only seemed to be trying to fish me out of it. What are you really?” “Guess I can’t put anything past you, can I? Very well, I supposed you at least deserve to know who I am.”

As the black winged angel flies out toward the waning sunset in the horizon, the voice that has been pestering him for so long now finally reveals herself. “My name is Hera. And I am a goddess.”

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

At last, the next season of Young hope is here. Let's hope I can stay consistent for a little while.

Anyway, first chapter I think I start us off would be about Roy dealing with what happened to his arm and the ways one could cope with the suddenly finding yourself with that kind of disability. Also figured this would be the best way to introduce Hank since he acts as a sort of console for the purple merc. Probably the best way I've introduced a character yet, to be honest.

All of this was inspired by that one Kim Possible episode with the wheelchair guy.

Hank belongs to: @kururu418

#Young Hope #lillaxtrigger

[nythroughthelens]

"Love is so short, forgetting is so long..." I grew up believing everyone around me could die at any moment. My parent's religion was an end times religion and so the childhood books that I used to learn to read featured colorful illustrations of people dying in fires as (their) god killed them during the last days which would presumably be happening at any minute. 

I was told that the people in my classes at school who were not the same religion would fatefully end up just like the people in those illustrations. My inner voice knew this seemed suspect since I actually really liked most of the people in my classes at school (much to the distress of my parents). But that early insistence that the world would burn along with my 'worldly' friends and first crushes informed how I felt about everyone around me. If my parents went away for a weekend, I was convinced they would never come back and I would immediately grieve as they were halfway out the door. 

If I left my teenage friends as I did when I was taken (not at will) to live in New Mexico for a year in High School to forget them once and for all, I grieved for the loss of them as if I would have never seen them again (I did of course. The year long trip - a last ditch attempt to get me to keep on going with the religion - didn't work at all).

While my parents used that fear that the current world would end to constantly try to convert and save people, I translated that fear into an almost nihilistic embrace of life in my late teens and early twenties after they disowned me and I moved out on my own. Long after my parents and that religion was out of my life, I carried that feeling with me: the one that hinted to me persistently that every day could be my last (since I was now 'worldly') and every person I cared about could perish at any second. It was like a locket I had been wearing around my neck for so long that it burned into my chest searing its impact deep into in my soul. Every moment felt like it could be the final one.

All conversations, even the silliest ones, felt as if they had a profound shadow edging its way over every joke. Shared experiences had a bittersweet impact. 

I never said goodnight to a friend or lover without wondering if I told them how much they meant to me or if I properly resolved any issues out of a subconscious feeling that I could potentially wake up with them gone. Regret was something I feared more than loss. I worded that last paragraph in past tense but the truth is I still carry that fatalism with me as if it is woven into the fabric of my existence.

It's one of the reasons I initially went into pre-med when I finally decided to go to college. Death, which always seemed imminent, just felt like another experience on the spectrum of life and figuring out how our strange outward structures kept us waking up every day was an ongoing fascination. "My voice tried to find the wind to touch her hearing..." I instinctively said yes to Brooke Shaden when she asked me at the last minute if I wanted to come speak at a creative retreat she was having this past weekend. Another speaker had to bow out due to a circumstance of loss and I was apparently on the list of speakers for next year so she messaged me asking if I could come speak and attend the retreat. 

It was a reflex reaction to say yes to that request. That deeply embedded fatalism that runs rampant in my bloodstream sent shivers up my arm when I thought of missing something profound. This happens to me often. It's a paradoxical reflex I carry with me alongside anxiety. Imagine saying yes to jumping out of a plane while also being mortally afraid of heights and a loss of control. 

In some ways this weird fatalistic reflex reaction has worked out to my advantage in the past few years as I have literally found myself saying yes to getting into a helicopter while also feeling like my heart would unceremoniously hurl itself up my throat and out of my mouth (for example).

"Tonight I can write the saddest lines. Write, for example,'The night is shattered and the blue stars shiver in the distance.'" It was in Western Greenland nearly a year ago on an icebreaker that I remember standing on the deck outside at midnight thinking about the weirdness of time as a concept. 

Earlier that day I had seen a documentary about how time flows differently in the Arctic where there are seasons of darkness and seasons of light.

In a place where darkness and light dictate life and where death tip toes on the perimeters of reality teetering on the thinning ice, time is simultaneously more profound and less profound. That night, I watched ice float across the vast sea as the snow covered mountains jutted up from the water like heartbeats until the dark blue whisper of night fell onto the sea like a blanket and the impermanence of Earth and humanity was tangible in that moment as if I could touch the ephemerality with my frozen fingertips.

"Reality is a permeable membrane that time slips in and out of, and time is malleable, bent by the wings of a plane or the cracking of ice sheets."

The above sentence is one that I wrote down that night that has haunted me every since.

Until this past weekend. I spent a year thinking about the above encounter. When I had to write about my book during this year of pondering all of this, I wrote about how fascinated and appalled I was by mortality, about how time simultaneously feels like a thief and an absurd imagined concept. "Love is so short, forgetting is so long..." I cried and laughed with so many other creative spirits this past weekend, maybe more than I ever have. While I initially went as a speaker, I relished meeting everyone and sharing in their own mini and major moments of catharsis.

A light switched on in my soul though when I was introduced to another of the speakers. We shared stories about a mutual friend (ironically the Astronaut Commander Hadfield who I was with during the Arctic encounter described above) and laughed a lot. 

I wasn't aware of what he was speaking about or what his story was until he briefly answered what he would be speaking about before we had to go to scheduled morning lecture. His name is Jeremie Saunders and he was born with Cystic Fibrosis and he will die at any point in the next 10 years, maybe sooner, maybe later. Who knows? Again, time and mortality are simultaneously absurd.

It wasn't until I heard him give his talk though that everything shifted for me. His talk wasn't about how he has perceived his life as carrying out a death sentence but rather how he views his knowledge of his own shifting expiration date as a gift because it has let him live in a way that has caused him to embrace the life and breaths he is living and breathing now. (please check him out: he has a podcast called Sickboy that “focuses on the absurd, inspirational, educational, and often times, hilarious stories of everyday people who are living with serious, chronic & terminal illnesses.” It’s brilliant). The thing is, we are all going to die. All of us. I had heard this fact poignantly stated by Commander Hadfield in the Arctic in the context of explaining his own philosophy on life. 

This isn't the first time I have thought about this. In fact, I have thought about it for decades. It has peppered every fatalistic thought I have had. 

At that time, I remember looking around the room when Commander Hadfield stated that truth. I heard the audible gasps and witnessed the uncomfortable shifting in chairs.   We avoid thinking of the fragility of our own mortality at the expense of enjoying it to its full extent because we think somehow that not thinking of it will render us immortal. If we never think about it maybe we can cheat the life cycle and transcend this mortal existence.

It's the weightiness of how we perceive time along with the lightness of our perception that alters our vision of life. In truth, we are carrying the DNA of an almost overwhelming amount of people who have all lived and died lives, some short and some long in a relative sense, and those lives have had an impact in some way. So when I listened to Jeremie's perspective, I felt as if I finally heard someone channeling the absurdity of existence in a poignant and hilarious way as if to let everyone know that life is meant to be lived to its fullest extent.

And I knew right then and there with almost unwavering certainty what I want to work on that may span the rest of whatever life I have left. "And the verse falls to the soul like dew to the pasture."

I saw the first photo of me in this post in an end of the retreat slideshow. I remember the moment I walked up that path to see what was in the distance. Surrounded by trees, I felt alive. And in an instant I thought of everything I shared in the first parts of this post and how I have never shared any of that to complete strangers. What an either perfectly complementary or divergent set of thoughts to have. 

"Love is so short, forgetting is so long..." I met so many people like Kristina and Jeremie this weekend who created a ripple in the fabric of my soul. 

I looked into people's eyes and ugly cried with every ounce of my being. I shared deep belly laughter with more people than I can count on two hands and hugged everyone as if I would never see them again (because that is what I do as I have just established in this post.) 

I never once went to bed each night wondering if the day was complete enough in thoughts, words, actions. 

Brooke, beyond being an incredible artist, is also a connector of souls. 

Thank you Brooke.

And thank you to everyone who inspired me and touched me in such an indelible way. 

You may have also inadvertently just shaped the rest of my career. --- * all quotes aside from one of mine are from one of my favorite poems by Pablo Neruda - Tonight I Can Write (Poem 20) - if you are unfamiliar - this video below is my favorite way to experience it...

(it’s part of a playlist I made a long time ago about all the scenes and videos that have made a huge impression on my life and art if you are curious: Scenes that have stuck to my ribs and clung to my heart) The beautiful forest photos in this post were taken by Kim Winey.

#death #life #art #vivienne gucwa #brooke shaden #jeremie saunders

[inktae]

away from the sun

↳ soulmate au 

◇ pairing: taehyung | reader ◇ genre: fluff and soft angst ◇ word count: 20.409 ◇ warnings: none ◇ author’s note: this story involved a whole lot of research involving many topics (read on if you want to find out hehe). I tried to represent them in the best way I could, but there are probably a few inaccuracies, so I apologize in advance for that. anyway, this is just another long plot with a bit of cheese on the side. please enjoy :) 

Once every five years, when the June solstice arrives and graces the sky with the midnight sun, a comet dashes by.

It is more than just a blinking light that moves at an unhinged speed. According to what you’ve heard, it looks like it stills in the middle of the vastness of space, and its tail flickers and shimmies in long tendrils of vibrant colors full of meaning — a subtle force that speaks to the humans who look up to the stars and set their eyes on the glowing meteorite, unique but just as intense for every single gaze. It speaks of soulmates and fate, of heavy truths and indelible bonds.

Each person sees a different pool of colors. You’ve heard more than a thousand stories, of people who saw the colors of the fireplace and others who were seized by the soothing hues of woodland during dawn. You’ve read about colors that go from the red blush of a beach beneath the sunset to the ivory traces of a wintry hill covered in thick snow. The colors do not give them the name of their soulmates, but once they find their other half, they will see those rich tones reflected in their lover’s eyes.

It is the most fascinating fairytale you have ever heard, and you have a hard time accepting it is all real, even if it’s been a reality that has existed long before you were born. And even if you haven’t been able to stare at the comet with your own eyes, you still look up to the day of your twenty first birthday with a fervor that never dies down. Every time you close your eyes you can almost see the set of colors blinking back at you, thousands of kilometers away but nearer than ever.

And more than knowing how the eyes of your soulmate will look like, you long to feel that exhilaration others are able to describe so distinctly, of getting a glimpse of something that goes beyond anyone’s perception. Something that’s not quite human, yet still feels close to home.

“Hey, the sunset is almost here. Mom will scream at you if she sees you staring out of the window.”

Snapping out of your thoughts, you turn your head towards your older brother, giving him a guilty smile as you get off the windowsill of the living room. Seokjin stands under the threshold of the room with his hands inside his pockets, and his eyes do not hold the usual subtle mirth you always found comfort in. It is easy to read them, going by the way they keep flickering towards the scenery on the other side of the window.

“You look terrified,” your smiles turns more mischievous as you approach him, batting your eyes obnoxiously as he rolls his eyes. “We could trade places, you know. If you are not ready to look at the comet tonight, then I can do it.”

“You keep forgetting you’re only sixteen years old,” he ruffles your hair, fingers playfully digging through the strands and making you whine in pain. “Mom— or anyone with common sense, for that matter, would never let such a young teen look at it.”

“But you’re just eighteen,” you grumble, making him chuckle. “Besides, I’m sure half of my classmates are going to look at it in secret tonight.”

“Hey, I don’t make the rules. Besides, you know it can be dangerous,” he removes his hand from your hair, smile vanishing as his lips form a straight line and his eyes turn serious. “Young people feel the colors more intensely, for some reason. Mom is just afraid you’d run away from home, or do something equally crazy.”

“As if,” you mutter, though you know Seokjin’s absolutely right. Albeit knowing yourself better than anyone, the looming fear of losing your sanity stops you from insisting.

“Waiting five more years seems painful, I know,” he cards his fingers through your hair again, but he’s gentle this time, a reassuring touch that eases some of your frustration away. “But you’ll be twenty one then, and much wiser than you are now. Hopefully.”

You swat his hand away at that, though the smile you give him lets him know his words have had a positive effect.

“Are you afraid because you’re eighteen, then?” you ask, finally voicing the doubt that’s been echoing in your mind ever since the day begun. He grimaces at that, and you know you’ve hit the right spot.

“I never said I was afraid,” he states, though his words fall flat when his voice wavers. “I mean, it is considered the youngest age allowed to look at it. If the authorities say so, then it should be fine… right?”

The fact that Seokjin is actually seeking reassuring words from you makes your mind start reeling, quickly nodding your head with a conviction you do not truly feel.

“Of course. Besides, you already behave and speak like a forty-year old. I’m sure you’ll be fine.”

He whacks your forearm as your chuckles fill the room. The silhouettes of the living room are starting to turn dimmer and softer beneath the beginnings of the sunset, which is already twisting the colors of the sky. As soon as the night descends, the comet will shine clear and bright for millions of eyes to feast on.

You know that the moment the door opens and your mother arrives home from work — which should not take too long now —, you’ll be sent to the guest room to spend the night, which has no windows to look out of. Though you already filled it with countless forms of entertainment, your mind will stay hazy and clouded for the next twelve hours, unexplainable hues of colors you’ve never seen flashing past your mind as you imagine yourself five years into the future, eyes wide and flickering with reflections of ice and dust.

Seokjin is right — it won’t be easy, and it might sting your chest once in a while. But you suppose the wait is worthwhile, knowing that your life will change and spin on a day like this and that your turn to get a glimpse of the universe is set in stone.

You can only hope that Seokjin shares the same need of finding his place within the glowing pigments. Maybe you can live through his own happiness before your turn comes, and hear his stories over and over, of the colors he saw and what they reminded him of. Maybe you’ll also get to hear of his first encounter with his soulmate, and how invigorating it feels to complete the bond with the person he’s meant to be.

Until then, you can only wait.

/

Two years later you’re standing on top of a hill, gasping for air after walking up a precarious trail for more than thirty minutes.

The sun is starting to go down, and the scenery beneath the mountain is nothing short of breathtaking. Though it’s your first time visiting this town, there’s a sense of warmth and closeness as your eyes survey the small, charming houses that spread in rows and rows across the land. Narrow streets worm their way between the buildings, old and new, almost struggling through the clustered town that seems to burst with houses and farms. Much farther away land turns into coast, forming a weaving shoreline that extends boundlessly. The sea is calm today, bashful under the bright sunset, and it makes you wonder if it’s like this every day, waves always hiding under the blue surface.

You wipe your clammy hands against the fabric of your light jacket, taking a long breath and wishing you were visiting this place for other reasons. To meet your soulmate, for example, or accompanied by your friends with the sole purpose of relaxing and forgetting about the real world.

Reluctantly, you tear your eyes away from the view to focus on the building that rises high in front of you. It is your first time seeing an observatory up close, and you can’t help but feel extremely intimidated as your eyes slide up and down. Three stories tall and topped with a dome, the building clearly carries countless years of history, jagged and weak-looking, but appealing nonetheless. The sunset casts sharp shadows over the red brick walls and shines above the white dome, giving it an eerie glow that makes you feel like you’ve entered an entirely new dimension.

You take another deep breath as you start walking towards the door, eyes swiping over the name engraved above the entrance. Reading the words Kim Observatory makes your heart beat a little easier, assuring you that you’re in the place you’re supposed to be.

Your legs feel like jello and your weak hands tremble as cool gusts of air ruffle your hair. The rising cold prickles at your cheeks and you almost take it as a sign to turn around and leave, but then you remember who is it you’re doing this for, and your thoughts shut down as your hand finally reaches towards the bell and presses down.

It happens too fast, then — suddenly someone’s opening the door in a hasty, fast movement that makes you jolt, and all you can see is a tall frame and wide eyes blinking through clunky glasses before you’re dragged into the darkness.

It is not completely dark, but the lights are distinctively dim as the tall boy pushes you towards a set of unreliable stairs that squeak under your shoes. Your heart’s ramming against your chest as a deep voice eats at your ears, excited words quickly mingling together, and you’re too stunned to make any sense of them as your mind struggles to come up with a retort.

The only thing stopping you from tearing his hands away from your shoulders and bolting outside of the building is the fact that this is the Kim Observatory — and everyone remotely interested in the comet knows that this is the place that holds all of the answers. You don’t really know what that entails, but you’re aware that coming here was the right choice. Even if your mind is currently frozen in fear, and even if your legs keep tripping and stumbling as he guides you upstairs.

He lets you take a long breath when you reach the third floor, not as dim under the natural glow of the rising night that filters through an opening in the rounded roof of the dome. The moment your mind becomes clear you’re finally able to focus on his words, eyes widening as he walks towards a large table cluttered with foreign objects and messy stacks of papers.

“…let me find the list of candidates, I swear it was around here. Jimin, did you move it again?”

It is then that you notice the third person in the narrow room, who’s giving you an apologetic smile from his spot on a timeworn couch placed against the wall. He gets up, completely ignoring the other man’s words as he walks towards you and extends his hand in your direction. His pale pink hair looks striking under the moonlight, and a white lab coat covers lean figure, reaching down his thighs and making him look even smaller.

“I’m sorry for that. I’m Park Jimin, nice to meet you,” he shakes your hand, and it’s then that you realize your lips are still parted. You close them rapidly, blushing in embarrassment as you squeeze back before letting go.

“I’m sorry, but… I don’t know what’s going on.”

“I figured,” Jimin sighs, speaking in a low tone as he glances back at the other man, who seems to be too lost in his thoughts as he continues to rummage through the chaos on the table. “You didn’t apply for the job, did you?”

You blink at that, feeling more confused than ever. “I… no, I didn’t. What job?”

“Jimin!”

“Sorry, wait,” Jimin runs towards the table as the other man steps back, taking his glasses off as he closes his eyes tightly. You can only stare as he rubs at them, a grimace forming on his lips as Jimin continues to search diligently. He finds the sheet of paper in a matter of seconds, and the dark haired man puts on his glasses again, giving Jimin a grateful smile before squinting at the handwritten words.

He finally looks at you, making your stiffen.

“Are you Minji?”

You shake your head, opening your lips to clear it up, but Jimin beats you to it.

“Taehyung, Minji is Yoongi’s girlfriend, remember? we met her the other day at school. Besides, she only said she’s willing to help out during her free weekends.”

The man, Taehyung, only rolls his eyes at Jimin’s words. “We met her during the day, Minnie. How do you expect me to remember how she looks like? Anyway, I took that as a yes. I’ll keep her on the list.”

“Can someone tell me what’s going on?” you finally intervene, head swimming and sight turning fuzzy. “I literally did not understand a word you just said. I just… I just came here because I was told I could find answers here—”

Jimin lifts his hands, making you realize your voice started to rise in the heat of the moment. You allow your voice to vanish, cheeks burning in a fiery blush as you purse your lips.

“Sorry. I’m just… I came here looking for the man in charge.”

“And that would be me,” Taehyung lifts his hand, giving you a dazzling smile. “I’m Kim Taehyung. Sorry about that crazy welcome, by the way. I thought you were here for the job and I got too excited,” his voice stalls then, allows the silence to stretch for a few seconds before his features light up. “Wait. Are you unemployed right now?”

“I… yes, I am, but—”

“Oh, that’s perfect. Jimin, write down her information, I’m going to start preparing the telescope. You don’t mind doing a quick job interview, do you?” he asks as he walks towards the large, heavy equipment placed under the opened roof, quick words firing past his lips in a way that Jimin seems thoroughly used to.

Your heart starts racing again, stomach churning under the overwhelming turn of events. Jimin picks up a blank sheet of paper and signals you to come closer, eyes soft and gentle as he sits down with a pen in hand. You sit on the chair placed next to his, swallowing as you look back at Taehyung. The latter keeps waltzing across the place, humming under his breath and looking completely engrossed in his own thoughts.

“Look…” Jimin sighs, and the way he lowers his tone indicates he doesn’t want Taehyung to hear his following words. “Me and Taehyung are the only ones keeping this observatory alive. The town actually wanted to shut it down, since too many expenses are going to the maintenance of the equipment, but he’s been so adamant in keeping this place in one piece, and—” he swallows, seemingly overcome with emotions, and something tugs at your chest at the way his eyes turn forlorn. “I have to leave town, but he needs another assistant if he wants to keep running the place just as smoothly.”

You find your words a few seconds later, and your voice is barely a whisper when you open your mouth. “He only needs an assistant?”

“This job entails more than that. It’s just a way to call it,” Jimin smile, a secretive curve of lips that hides countless experiences, a past you cannot imagine. “It’s precisely how important it is that we’re having a hard time finding people for the job. Not many want to work for Taehyung, and that… that breaks my heart.”

You still at his words. “Why is that?”

“Okay, I’m done here. Did you take her information, Jimin?”

Jimin bolts at Taehyung’s booming voice, turning his head around as he laughs nervously.

“Ah, I’m on it!” Jimin turns back to the blank sheet of paper, starting to write the words Job Application #3. Jimin leans closer then, a slight shift that makes you perk up. “Can you just humor him, at least? Please. I’m sure he’d appreciate it. Besides, you said you came here looking for answers…” a smile graces his lips, seemingly confident he’s about to convince you with his next words. “You can get them afterwards, as a reward. He’s not one to give out important information to a stranger, but I’ll ease him into it.”

It is undoubtedly tempting, and you find yourself already giving in at the prospect of getting your questions answered. It is just a job interview, after all — it is not committing to the actual job, nor is it taking the seemingly huge responsibility of being Kim Taehyung’s assistant. You might ridicule yourself through the process, because you are no astronomy expert and your job experience is limited to crowded bakeries and small cafés — but it does not truly matter if that means taking one step closer to the truth.

You find yourself giving your information to a beaming Jimin, who writes it down in earnest, smooth traces of black ink. He gets up when you’re done and you quickly follow his movements, hands clammy again as the rising nerves bubble up your chest.

“Thank you, Y/N,” he continues to grin, reading your name on the paper before flickering his eyes back to your face. His voice is filled with gratification and you can’t help but smile back, nodding quietly. “Taehyung will take over now.”

You finally slide your gaze towards the telescope. Taehyung is sitting on the plump chair that accompanies it, already staring intently into your eyes. It almost makes you lean back, even though there are already a few feet of distance between you both.

Jimin hands him the paper sheet, and his eyes slowly swipe over the written words, analyzing the clean handwriting.

“Do you need help with that?” Jimin asks him, standing by his side with a closeness that seems comfortable for the both of them.

“It’s fine,” Taehyung murmurs, giving you a smile as he gives the information back to Jimin. “Y/N, right?”

You nod, posture stiff as your fingers dig into your thighs. You start rubbing at your knees while Taehyung continues to gaze silently, swirling gently on the rotating chair as his unnerving stare burns into your face.

“You’re eighteen, so you graduated high school not too long ago,” he starts, making your heart skip a beat. “How did you do in math and physics?”

“Decently… I think,” you grimace at the clear disinterest in your words. High school was just a stepping stone for you, so you did not put in as much passion as you should have — you were reserving it for the future, though your dreams have been stalled now that you decided to take an entirely different path. One of seeking answers that might be too hard to find.

Taehyung starts asking you about the subjects, then — concepts that you are fortunately able to remember, such as slightly complicated math operations and the main laws of physics that currently rule the universe. You trip over your words here and then and some of your answers are full of doubt instead of confidence, but Taehyung does not seem put off at all. He looks elated instead, briefly allowing you to really look at his features and the way they seem to soften under the moonlight.

The night has fully settled now, but the colors of the sky are still rich and glaring as they pour onto the observatory. It illuminates every single corner, from the frayed couch to the littered table and the countless foreign objects misplaced on the floor. The chaos clearly rules the room, but Taehyung and Jimin seem utterly comfortable with it, fond, even. A calm smile, faint and barely there, is fixed on Taehyung’s lips as his eyes continues to inspect your own, and you can’t help but give him the same scrutinizing look as your eyes trace the large glasses he’s wearing and the soft-looking hair that falls on his forehead. He looks young, not at all like the mad scientist you expected to see, and you inevitably grimace at the absurd stereotype that formed in your head long before you came here.

“Okay, that’s enough,” he says after the vague answer you give him for his sixth question. Feeling slightly mortified at your notorious lack of knowledge, you try to ignore the fiery flush that spreads across your neck and ears as he signals you to come closer. He gets up and pushes the chair away, and his next words immediately freeze you in place.

“Look through the telescope and tell me what you see.”

You give him a bewildered look, briefly taken aback by his closeness. “Um— I’ve never…”

“That’s okay, Jimin will help you.”

The latter swiftly appears at the mention of his name. Jimin gives you an encouraging smile before he briefly explains how to gaze through a telescope, where to touch and where to look, and his explanations are simple enough for your anxious heart rate to go back to normal. You follow his instructions hesitantly, not daring to touch the instrument too much as you lean closer to the eyepiece.

A gasp gets stuck in your throat when your eye finally focuses on the sky. You almost forgot one of the reasons this town is known for — though small and faraway, almost forgotten behind the big, shiny cities that entice with their countless forms of entertainment, its lack of overflowing lighting allows a raw view of the night sky and the endless universe that lies behind the clouds. In a town like this, one light show in particular shines the brightest, a sight you would never find in any other city.

“What do you see?” Taehyung asks, dragging you out of your reverie.

“The sungrazing lights,” you speak up, and your own voice sounds distant in your ears. You notice some reverence laced in them, still in awe as you continue to look through the telescope.

“Can you tell me what you know about them?”

“They’re similar to the aurora borealis— the only difference is that the sungrazing lights are actually all over the planet, not just the northern and southern hemispheres,” you explain, staring at the waves of lights that entangle with each other. “No one really knows why they’re always up there, or where they come from. We’ve just accepted their existence, just like the Yugen comet.”

You finally lean back, blinking as you adjust your sight to your surroundings. Taehyung and Jimin are both giving you quiet, unreadable stares, and you place a strand of hair beneath your ear as you look away bashfully.

“That’s just what I’ve heard. I don’t really know anything about it.”

Taehyung grabs at your wrists then, bringing your hands closer to him and making you shriek in surprise. The way he’s staring into your eyes makes you squirm, though you are not be able to tell if it’s in a good or a bad way.

“Please, let me hire you.”

You find Jimin’s eyes then, connecting your bewildered ones with his soothing stare as he gives you another one of his reassuring smiles. Your heart is galloping wildly at this point, and Taehyung is still staring in that fervent way that makes your insides rattle, thoughts running a hundred miles per hour as you start considering all of the possibilities, all the consequences your following words could bring.

Saying no means leaving as soon as possible, not without finally voicing your questions out loud and hoping for an accurate answer that could give you a new lead. Saying no means a fifty-fifty chance of leaving with a new direction.

Saying yes means working with Taehyung. Working with Taehyung means getting a glimpse of his seemingly unbounded knowledge; it means settling, at least for a while, while conducting your own personal research on the side. It means finding an answer and a place to stay.

Because you did not plan to return home, not yet, at least. You knew, the moment you packed your things and stepped outside of the only home you’ve ever known, that searching for your lost brother would not take you one day or two. He has been missing for two years, after all, and one answer from Kim Taehyung is not going to lead you to his whereabouts in the blink of an eye. You know a question will only lead to another, and that you will find yourself walking into countless paths that have no exit.

Maybe this is what you need, you realize. Maybe a fresh start will put things into perspective, one that might illuminate the right path and lead you towards the real exit.

And even if you do not know what being Kim Taehyung’s assistant truly entails, you figure there are some risks worth taking, especially if they mean getting one step closer to your brother.

You nod, and Taehyung’s smile widens. There’s a warm inkling forming within your chest already, one filled with hope and anticipation, surrounded by the lukewarm assurance that comes from right decisions and bright prospects.

You just took your first step, and maybe this was the first answer you needed all along.

Three years later

You glance at your wrist watch, fidgeting on the spot as a loud huff leaves your mouth. There are only ten minutes left before the first class starts, and you can already imagine the students congregated in the room, waiting for their occasionally punctual teacher to arrive. You do not need for Taehyung to take it slow now of all times, and the impatience is rapidly winding up your muscles as your feet starts tapping the floor. Loudly.

It takes you ten seconds to give in, walking up the stairs again after dropping your bag next to the main door. You pass the second floor — where two small bedrooms are located — and saunter straight to the dome, knowing there’s a hundred percent chance of finding Taehyung there.

Just as you expected, you find the man snoozing on the table, face hidden in his arms and body almost falling off the chair. Striding in his direction, you don’t hesitate to jab at his shoulders hastily, forcing a sleepy groan past his lips.

“Damn it, Taehyung. Did you stay up until late again?”

He groans again, making you exhale. Patience.

“I shouldn’t have to deal with this. I’m your assistant, not your mother.”

He finally stirs at your frazzled voice, lifting his head and blinking sleepily before closing his eyes shut again.

“The blinds. Close them.”

Some of your anger vanishes when you finally notice the brightness of the room. You both usually keep the windows open during the night, but it seems like it slipped past your mind to close them afterwards this time. You shut them down in a hurry, only a faint glow allowed inside as the sunlight grows unmistakably dimmer between the walls.

“Thanks,” Taehyung’s up now, putting on his dark shades and blocking the sight of his eyes from your own gaze. He’s grinning and you huff again, though there’s a tiny smile lifting your lips now.

“I’m still mad, you know. Get up, the class is supposed to start in…” you look at your watch again, a long sigh getting stuck in your throat. “Five minutes.”

“I still have yesterday’s clothes on.”

“Yoongi said he’d kick your ass if you were late again.”

“Ooookay, let’s go,” he grabs his satchel off the table and sprints towards the door, making you laugh out loud as you follow him downstairs. Gone are the days when you witnessed his movements in silent awe, stunned at the flawless way he navigated himself within the walls of the house slash observatory.

Learning about his condition and living with it every day only made you realize how trivial it was, at least most of the time — just like his characteristic boxy smile, or his particular taste for old-fashioned glasses or his sun-kissed skin that glows under daylight, it is just another trait of him; one that does not define him, even if most people who don’t know him think otherwise. It is just one more little thing joined to his other countless attributes, all fixed together in harmony and forming the essence that is Kim Taehyung.

A young genius who loves space and being late.

Taehyung puts on the usual cap he wears for daylight, shadowing his face from the sun as you both run out of the observatory. You have no time to gaze at the view on top of the hill like you always do — you can only focus on your own ragged breathing as you try to keep up with Taehyung’s pace, whose long legs allow him to double your own speed.

He knows the walk to the school by memory, and he does not need you to guide him in any way — which only reminds you he can leave you behind in any second. Another thing you’ve learned after working with Taehyung for three years is that he can be very vengeful sometimes.

“Slow down, will you?” you gasp as he practically jumps down the hill. “We’ll get hit by a car if we keep up this crazy pace.”

“Not happening. I’m too scared of Yoongi,” he pants, two or three steps ahead of you as he tilts his head in your direction.

“You’re just mad I used that against you.”

He doesn’t look at you, but you can see the smile lifting his cheeks. “Maybe. Hurry up, we need to run if we want to get there on time!”

You don’t mention you’re going to be late no matter what, and that he’d need teleportation powers to actually start the class at eight am. You don’t think you could speak, anyway. Taehyung won’t stop until you get to the school, and all you can do is try to breathe as your tired legs send a burning sensation up your body and your chest aches with the urge to rest.

It takes you half the usual time to get there. The school is relatively close to the observatory, eight minutes away by foot and located near the liveliest area of the town. It is flanked by sugar maples and enclosed by snug houses, only two blocks away from the commercial main road.

Once again, you cannot allow yourself to observe your surroundings. By the time you’ve reached the school you’re wheezing, breaths loud as you walk through the empty hallway that leads to the classes. Taehyung hushes you and you give him a long glare, and even if he can’t see it, you hope he feels it on his skin.

Taehyung crouches down when the shrill sound of instruments grow louder, and you can’t help but laugh when you realize you’re passing the door of the music room, the small window on top allowing you to get a glimpse of the inside. Taking a quick peek, your eyes quickly find the focused stance of music teacher Min Yoongi as he prepares the school band for practice.

“He didn’t see us, did he?” Taehyung mutters, straightening up and stopping in front of his own classroom, only a few feet away.

“Oh, he did. I think he mouthed the words, tell Taehyung he’s done.”

“Very funny,” his hand touches the handle of the door, head tilting in your direction. You wish you could see his eyes right now, but the lights of the hallway have always shined with blazing lights, as if to wake up the sleepy students that come straight away from dreamland. Taehyung never dares to take off his dark shades inside, and with good reason. “No noise. That’s a good sign.”

Taking a look through the window of the door, a fond smile quirks your lips at the seated students that whisper amongst each other — no mess in sight.

“They really care about you, you know.”

Taehyung huffs, but there’s a somewhat embarrassed smile brightening his features and the hint of a blush coloring his cheeks.

“Well, who doesn’t love a mad scientist?”

He opens the door then, raucous voice making the students jump. You hide a chuckle behind your hand as you start following your everyday routine, movements instinctive as you take out Taehyung’s notes from your own bag and start writing today’s topic on the chalkboard. Meanwhile, Taehyung commences the class with a poise and a casualness that keeps reminding you of how good he is at teaching, even if you’re dealing with sulky fifteen year olds that could very well turn on him in any second. But their behavior always seems to switch for the better whenever it’s time for physics, which has earned Taehyung a solid reputation amongst the teachers of the school.

Being the cool teacher does not mean he lets things slide, though. You cannot help but smile at the following words that resonate through the room, quickly mixed with groans and sighs from the students that you’ve come to know very well.

“I didn’t forget about last week’s homework, by the way. Come on, hand it in. I think I’ll make it ten percent of your final grade.”

It is a great routine, indeed.

/

Being Kim Taehyung’s assistant involves a lengthy number of tasks, but above all, it means working with him, not for him.

Only three days passed after your perplexing job interview before you were informed of Taehyung’s condition. You can recall the moment with clear vividness, because it is the only time you’ve ever gotten a glimpse of Taehyung’s personal life, which lies on the other side of a thick wall that still stands high and mighty within your working relationship.

“I have complete congenital achromatopsia,” he explained that day, and you can remember how easily the words rolled off his tongue, so casual and nonchalant. “Which means I grew up unable to perceive colors. My eyes are also very sensitive to the light, and I can barely see a thing if it’s too bright outside or indoors — but I can get by with normal glasses if it’s dark enough. I’m only farsighted, fortunately,” and he ended that with a laugh.

You did not have time to delve into your faint surprise. Taehyung quickly followed his words with the tasks you needed to take over, making you pull out a notebook and a pen to scribble down the rapid words that flew past his lips. The more he told you about your involvement in the observatory and the school, the more you understood how important this job was, and how hard you needed to work if you wanted to follow the path Jimin paved for you.

You needed to grade exams and help him prepare the classes in the afternoon, because the nights solely belonged to research and observation, and Taehyung was very rigorous about that. It did not take you long to realize how deeply implicated he was in one topic in particular — and that was the mystery of the Yugen comet and the sungrazing lights.

Taehyung already published papers, countless of them, put theories together that are now recognized by scientists whose names you’ve undoubtedly heard before. He has, quite literally, dedicated all of his life to the enigmatic lights in space.

And paired with this realization, another detail became fully clear to you as the weeks and months passed — which is that Taehyung is an utterly absorbed workaholic.

Ironically so, he barely mentions the topic of soulmates, which plays a huge part in his main researches. The only time he did happened two years ago, when the question slipped past your lips during a particularly calm night of investigation.

You needed to know his stance of them, almost trembled with curiosity and wonder after mulling about it for so long. But the answer he gave you froze the blood cursing through your veins, turning your skin cold before a rush of heat spread across your cheeks.

Because how could you not realize it before —

“Did you forget I can’t see colors?” he wondered, smirking as he lifted his gaze towards the speckled night sky. “You can only know your soulmate and form the bond by looking at them. I can’t, so no soulmate for me— unless they find me, of course. But it is still bad news for them, since for me it is just a ridiculous, commercialized concept. People mistook this… strange chemical reaction for some romantic play of destiny, and now society is milking it for all it’s worth. How funny is that?”

And that was the last talk of soulmates you had.

You know there’s another one coming soon, though. The June solstice is finally here, and even though you’ve stuck to your routine as the day drags down with its usual fast pace, the realization that today is the day springs to the top of your mind every five minutes, stalling your movements and making you blink in mild awe. It’s as if your subconscious is being highly insistent on keeping you from forgetting about it — a simmering fear curling and burning low on your stomach at the prospect of accidentally missing it, and having to wait another five years.

The feeling is not one of excitement, though. It almost feels like an obligation, one you’re not too keen on going through, because your mother and brother’s history can only remind you that luck with soulmates definitely does not run in your blood. It might be easier to pass it up, to focus on the piles of work Taehyung gives you every morning, but you know the what ifs would plague you for another five years — you just don’t have it in yourself to wait again. You have been patient enough, even if the comet now leaves a bittersweet taste in your mouth instead of the magical flutter that used to make your eyes glint.

Classes at school pass in a daze. It is almost a blur as you pick up piles of homework, and time seems strangely fuzzy as you and Taehyung meet up with Yoongi and Hoseok — the PA teacher known for his bright smile, and the number one crush of the giggling schoolgirls —, casually discussing about your students over bland coffee.

No one mentions your disoriented state, but there’s a hunch nagging at the back of your head as you walk back home with Taehyung, who’s been unusually silent ever since you left the school.

“Spill,” he says after crossing the main door, making you sigh.

“Isn’t it obvious?” you wonder, placing your jacket on the hanger. The thick curtains are drawn and it is almost pitch black inside, so you occupy yourself with a couple of dim lamps, turning them on so they give off enough glow to illuminate the silhouettes.  

“The comet? But… you never saw it before?”

You turn around at his surprised tone, frowning. “I was sixteen last time.”

He takes off his shades, and it is almost relieving to get a glimpse of his eyes again. You still have no idea why the sight of them eases the tension off your shoulders, but you stopped looking for a logical explanation months ago.

“Ah, I keep forgetting you’re two years younger than me,” he smiles, eyes unfocused as he rummages through his bag to get a hold of his normal glasses. Even though he only considers himself farsighted when the lights are dull enough, his sight is still evidently blurry, going by the way he wholly depends on his reading glasses within the darkness — and even so, he rarely gets to experience any sharpness with his own eyes.

You smile, taking off his hat to place it on top of your jacket. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“It’s still a little surprising. I looked at the comet when I was around thirteen.”

“Christ,” you blurt out, air leaving your lungs. “What for?”

He only snorts, putting on his glasses before starting to walk towards the stairs. “Well, I was desperate to know if it’d still work while not seeing any colors, that maybe my sight would heal miraculously or something. It didn’t.”

There are no heavy emotions in his voice, and you wonder if thirteen year old Taehyung spoke with the same aloofness when referring to the comet. You doubt it, especially at that age — when things hit you the hardest and your feelings are the most alive but also the most confusing. The image of a younger version of Taehyung crying hits you then, making your chest tighten. You push it away just as fast, following Taehyung up the stairs.

You bump against him when he abruptly stops after reaching the slightly murky dome, barely lit up within the closed curtains. He yells five seconds later, sprinting forward to embrace a smiling Jimin in a tight hug. Silently stunned, you wait until Taehyung lets him go to give him a welcoming smile, which Jimin returns just as brightly.

“What are you doing here? I thought you’d be visiting next week,” Taehyung pats his back strongly, and the dry sound echoes against the walls as Jimin grimaces in pain.

“Just.. wanted it to be a surprise,” he scratches the back of his head, looking bashful under your intent stares. “How are you guys doing?”

Taehyung scrutinizes him for a few seconds, eyes narrowing as Jimin all but shrinks under his unwavering gaze. “Hmm, what a coincidence, coming here on the day of the comet. Are you sure it’s just a normal visit?”

“Actually…” he clears his throat, redirecting his gaze to you. “I wanted to have lunch with Y/N, if you guys didn’t mind.”

The words take a few seconds to register. Taehyung reacts faster, though — waving his hand dismissively as he walks towards the cluttered table.

“If she wants to, go ahead. I need to record some stuff for my research, anyway,” he says casually. Knowing Taehyung and his obsessive ways, he’s most definitely telling the truth.

“We’ll be back,” Jimin adds as Taehyung opens his laptop. “I expect you to give me some of your free time by the time we come back, you need to stop working so much.”

“Sure. Have a nice meal!” he replies cheerily, throwing you both a quick smile before flopping down on the chair and opening the text to speech software. Jimin sighs before turning to you, signaling towards the exit with a muted smile. You give Taehyung one last hesitant look before walking away, still feeling helplessly confused as you take the stairs down.

“Don’t worry, there’s nothing wrong,” Jimin assures you when you’re both out into the sunlight. You can’t help but squint at the sharp brightness, hitting your eyes mercilessly after the gentle glow of the interior.

“You want to talk about Taehyung, then?” you wonder as you both walk side by side. Jimin lets out a silent sigh, hands inside his pockets as he saunters down the hill.

“About a lot of things. But it’s not serious, I promise. I just want to… keep up with things. Ask a few more,” he chuckles. His hair is not pink anymore, but rather a soft shade of brown that fits him naturally. The last time you saw him was four months ago, and he does not look much different — a little bit leaner, maybe, and if you look closely there are hints of tiredness clinging to his features, but his smile is still the same and his eyes have never lost their warmth.

He takes you to a small restaurant you’ve come to know very well over the years — located close to the shore, it mainly serves seafood, and the salty smell of the sea is faint and moderate as it weaves through the dining tables. You’re both seated right next to the large windows, which allow a breathtaking sight of the calm waves that glint under the sun rays.

“So… what is it?” you ask him after ordering your drinks.

Jimin, quietly sitting in front of you, sighs as his eyes slide towards the scenery of the outside. The lights are razor-sharp on your skin, and it almost feels out of place to be able to glance at Jimin with so much clarity, eyes never squinting nor trying to delineate any fuzzy shapes. It makes you wonder if it feels the same for him, even if he has not worked for Taehyung in almost three years.

“He was right. I came today because… well. The comet. You told me you’d be looking at it this year the last time we saw each other.”

You lean back, biting your lip while cursing Jimin’s ability of making you spill with terrifying ease. Every time he visited you ended up alone with him, somehow — and every time he prodded, every time you gave in. This time is no different.

“Yeah, I guess I will,” you play with a napkin absentmindedly, feeling strangely nervous all of a sudden. “Why are you showing interest? Aren’t you living with your soulmate already?”

“I am,” he smiles, eyes gently flickering at the memories of his soulmate. “It’s because of Taehyung. I doubt he has said anything, but he’s probably worried sick right now, you know. Wondering if you’ll leave after seeing the colors to search for your soulmate. I didn’t leave right away when it happened to me, but… it did play an important part in my decision,” his smile evaporates, eyes lowered as he continues to speak in a mellow tone. “So. I just want to know what you’re thinking, or if he has said anything…”

“He hasn’t. Look… I’m terrified,” you blurt out, words a little bit too loud. You try to contain yourself, a fiery blush quickly crawling up your skin. “I don’t really want to do it, but I feel like it’s something I should know. I want to stop feeling like I’m waiting for something. Whatever… colors I see, I’ll probably stay in the observatory, so don’t worry about that. I’ll just close that chapter and move on.”

Jimin nods, though he doesn’t look very pleased yet. “And what about your brother? you should tell Taehyung about it. I’m sure he’d help you.”

Ah, the other reminder that your subconscious is always painfully aware of. You almost tear the napkin in half, and a long exhale slips past your lips as you keep your breathing in check.

“Nothing yet. My only lead is still that vague call mom got two years ago. He told her he was okay, but… not hearing it from him myself is just— painful. I’ve been monitoring a few websites where people talk about their not so happy experiences with the comet. And the other lead you gave me didn’t work, either,” you gulp, blinking away tears of frustration. “Taehyung is just too focused in his research. I don’t want to burden him—”

“Aren’t you guys friends?”

Jimin parts his lips in quiet bewilderment at your sudden silence.

“We— we are! Kind of. Well, not very close,” you stammer, placing your hands on your lap. The napkin is already shredded to pieces, lying in messy bits on top of the table. “I mean. How do I get closer to someone like him?”

Jimin narrows his eyes. “Like him how?”

“I didn’t mean it like that,” you shake your head, nerves rising even faster. “He’s just… I can’t… keep up with him. No matter how hard I try. I’m not you, Jimin,” you can feel your shoulders slumping and your lips twisting into a grimace. It is not something you ever voiced before, and it feels both mortifying and relieving to let it out. “He’s always so overwhelming. And that’s— that’s a good thing. I like that. But no matter how hard I try to stay by his side, I always feel like I’m one step behind. Besides, he’s not too fond of sharing, either.”

He grabs your hand then, fingers caressing your wrist and easing some of the building tension stirring under your skin. “Y/N, he was reserved with me and I’ve known him ever since he was six years old and had no front teeth.”

His words are definitely reassuring, and a smile replaces your pout at the mental image. Placing your elbow above the table, you rest your cheek on the palm of your hand, muscles slowly starting to unwind.

“What should I do, then? All we talk about is… work. And more work. Sometimes we fight over which coffee brand to buy, but other than that, there’s nothing much.”

Jimin’s eyes light up at your words. “You’re still living together, then? It’s honestly surprising.”

A recollection of images springs to the front of your mind, one that’s strangely vivid amidst your cluttered memories. It happened two months after you started working for Taehyung. You’d been living in a hostel for the time being, not really sure of what to do about your accommodations since you accepted the job so abruptly. One cloudy morning, Taehyung offered you to take the spare bedroom — it was sudden, no buildup whatsoever, but your answer was just as startling, if not more.

“I know. I think he wants to kick me out sometimes,” you chuckle, eyes glazing with fondness. “He’s so damn stubborn with the supper. We have to get his favorite brands or we don’t get the food — how did you manage to live with that?”

“Just like you are. Barely,” Jimin snickers, and the worry that was etched in his features is finally dissolving. “Anyway… I’m kinda glad to see things are not that bad. Just… try and get a bit closer to him, yeah? It won’t hurt any of you.”

“He’s my boss, though.”

He arches an eyebrow. “And you’re living together.”

The blush that blossoms across your cheeks is completely involuntary. You avert your eyes, feeling strikingly sheepish. “Yeah, you got me there.”

“Honestly…” Jimin muses, voice lower than usual. You drag your eyes back to him and you definitely do not like the playful look he’s giving you, heart stuttering at what might be hiding behind them. “It’s also strange how nothing has happened between you both. I mean, you’re only humans with needs—”

You might start burning up in any second now. “Stop. Don’t go there.”

It stops there, fortunately — and the conversation does not delve into that topic again, switching to more trivial matters concerning the town and the other teachers at the school. Overall, the meal is thoroughly enjoyable, and you feel like it’s been ages since you spoke so much about things that were not work related. It takes you a while to notice the shift in your gestures and the way you smile, but it’s easy to point out the source: you are not scared of the comet anymore. Still nervous, but not terrified, at least.

You are not sure what changed your mindset, but you can only feel deeply thankful towards Jimin, and your chest feels light and your steps are weightless as you both go back to the observatory, a peaceful smile fixed on your face.

You hold onto the hope that it might not turn out entirely disastrous when the sunset drops. After all, you still have the observatory, which became an unexpected home after three years.

No matter what happens, you’re completely sure it’ll be there for you, always embracing you under its satisfying darkness.

/

“Taehyung?”

You quickly realize your voice is unwelcome — Taehyung’s recording something on his computer, and the look he gives you as you enter the dome makes you wince. The brightness of the screen has made him averse from typing, choosing instead to voice out anything he needs registered.

You decide to wait, walking towards the closed windows as Taehyung’s low tone fills the room. He’s recording tomorrow’s physics class, which you’ll have to read over later. Though he’s only talking about magnetic fields, his voice is exceptionally pleasant, making your nerves simmer down as you lift the curtains gently and take a peek outside. Sunset is approaching fast, and the time left for the comet is now reduced to minutes.

You pinpoint the moment he’s done, shutting down his laptop as he gets up from the chair. Given by the way he digs his hands inside his pockets and leans against the table, all in complete silence, you realize he’s probably aware of what kind of conversation is about to take place.

“You don’t have to work with me tonight if you don’t want to,” he starts, meeting your eyes through his glasses. He doesn’t sound angry, or elated — just indifferent, and that knowledge is strangely frustrating. “I mean— it’s an important night. I’ll need to make a lot of observations since I only get this chance once every five years. And your help would be very welcome, but… just do what makes you feel the most comfortable. It’s fine.”

“Did Jimin tell you to say that?”

His eyes widen at that, making you giggle.

“I knew it.”

“I practiced!” he squeaks out, looking completely stunned. “How could you tell?”

You smirk, silently thankful for the sudden banter. “Because you sound like him. So nice and selfless.”

“What does that mean?”

“Is it true, though?” you ask, licking your cracked lips. “I mean… I honestly don’t know how I’ll react— I’m not sure if I’ll need the night off. But it’s reassuring to know that I can be alone if I need to.”

Taehyung scratches the back of his neck, suddenly floundering. He doesn’t seem to know what to do with the information you just gave him, which came out sounding more personal than you intended, and you almost pity the way he seems to squirm on the spot.

“I mean— yeah. Of course. And… I’m sure it’ll be fine,” he finally smiles, in that natural way that makes him look more like himself. “It’s not like your family is cursed or something. Right?”

A forced laugh makes its way past your lips, raising the awkwardness to a painful level.

“Yeah.. that’s right. Thanks,” you clear your throat, trying to behave normally. How did you usually behave? It is strikingly hard to recall. “It’s just some rare chemical reaction, like you said. No big deal.”

Taehyung blinks at that, tilting his head. “Like I said?”

“You did— three years ago,” blushing hard, you laugh again, in that shrill, fabricated tone that expresses anything but joy. “I… I have a good memory.”

“You probably can’t even remember last week’s physics lesson.”

“The sun is starting to go down,” you mumble, ignoring his words as you give the curtains a brief glance. “I’m think I’m gonna go to my room now.”

“Sure. See you later,” you don’t miss the way Taehyung exhales deeply, as if relieved the conversation is finally over. He’s already turning your back to you, focusing his attention on the table while searching for a nonexistent object. It is both ridiculous and endearing, and you have to repress a chuckle as you get out of the room to walk downstairs.

You lock yourself in your room, too narrow but remarkably cozy, a comfortable space that always allows you to breathe a little easier whenever the days grow somewhat overwhelming. There’s a thin ledge under the only window of the room, wide enough for you to take a seat. It is the only room in the observatory where you’re free to keep your curtains completely open, and the walls and furniture are already sheathed in the vivid colors of the outside, tangerine tones trickling inside as the sun starts to go down.

For the briefest second, you wish you still were on the third floor. Taehyung would probably mind his own business on the other side of the room, protecting himself from the light as you observed through the window. He’d probably sense your nervousness, then — and instead of working silently he’d start talking loudly, muttering to himself loud enough to ease off the tension of the room. Taehyung loves to talk, even if it is only about work, and the fact that you’d gladly hear him banter about galactic tides and the effects of radiation pressure for more than two hours is probably worrying. In a way you’d rather not think about.

Sitting on the windowsill, you try not to bite your nails as you wait for the sky to start darkening. It feels absolutely bizarre to think that the moment is finally here, that you’re no more that sixteen year old who longed for the next five years to pass in the blink of an eye. And they did, in a sense. But a lot has changed, in ways you teen self would never have imagined, and the realization provokes a sudden pang of nostalgia within your chest.

You do not dare to think about Seokjin, knowing well enough that your current vulnerability wouldn’t handle it. Instead, you focus on the sky and its unsteady shades, hands clasped together on your lap as your heart picks up the pace. Starting to drown in your own reeling thoughts, you almost miss the orange dissipating as the night finally takes over, gracing the sky with a bright blue that slowly grows darker.

And just like that, the comet winks from above.

Your eyes struggle to trace its shape at first, head tilting as your body unconsciously leans forward. Your hands shake as you open the glass, and the usual vertigo that would make your legs tingle is completely gone as you incline your body towards the sky, precariously keeping your balance on the windowsill.

It is… obviously not what you expected, because your imagination could never conceive something like this. The first thought that comes to your head is I’m looking at a burning star, and you know Taehyung would faint if he ever heard you use that comparison, but it’s the most similar concept your brain can find. It is bright, so bright, glowing and pulsing as if it was alive, burning and stirring as it stills in the sky while barely moving in your eyes.

And the colors. You always found it strange how detailed and intricate other people’s descriptions were, but you get it now. The words are on your mind long before you start thinking about it, and it’s easy to interpret them as the shades of the galaxy, wide and powerful and glinting with speckled stars amongst a rich, deep blue. They are striking against the light blue of the young night, and it’s all your eyes can see and feel. You’re in love with the colors, even if you do not know who they belong to yet.

Except there’s a growing suspicion in your chest that keeps rising and rising, until it turns so loud you have to look away. Space. Dark blue. A vast starry night.

The view that welcomes you every single night at the dome.

“So… how did it go?”

Taehyung’s words are distant in your ears as you enter the dome, and you’re deeply thankful for the dim illumination — it is hopefully shadowing your stupefied expression, features frozen as you stop a few feet away from Taehyung’s table. Sitting on the desk with a recorder in hand, he probably just finished registering everything his eyes could catch while you were gone. There are some notes handwritten on paper, letters clumsy and clearly fast paced, which strikes a faint guilt through your hazy thoughts.

You lift your gaze to his face slowly, deliberately. He’s already staring at you when you reach his eyes, observing your stone cold face with intent. You have to hold back the urge to beg him to take off his glasses, desperate to look at his new eyes at a closer angle.

He doesn’t know it, but they’re completely different now. Still the same dark color, it is now tinged with a beautiful shade of navy blue, flecked with glinting stars. It is a different kind of universe, one contained inside the eyes of your soulmate.

You wince at your own thoughts, skin heating up. Taehyung chooses that moment to speak up, and you try hard to keep your focus on reality, struggling as your thoughts threaten to swallow you up.

“Are you okay? Do you want to throw up?”

“I’m fine,” you nod your head, mostly trying to convince yourself. Taehyung’s still giving you that scrutinizing look, one he reserves for complicated equations that keep his thoughts reeling. You have to look away, because his gaze feels a thousand times more intense now and you are not sure if you’ll ever be able to look at him straight in the eye again.

“Do you think you can work tonight?”

“Yes,” you don’t care how eager you sound — the need to distract yourself and let Taehyung guide your movements with his countless orders is so powerful you’re almost trembling, too overwhelmed by the emotions billowing across your body. He gives you another curious look before nodding, pointing to the telescope as tasks start spewing from his mouth.

You don’t look into his eyes again, and Taehyung has probably noticed — but he doesn’t say anything, and neither do you.

/

It only goes downhill from there.

Even if you never considered him a close friend, it has always been an easy, casual relationship, one between two people who happen to get along naturally within the workplace. After three years working with Taehyung your tasks became routine, one that is exciting instead of dull or tiring. And when the nights are long and heavy thoughts start to cram your mind, you even dare to confess that your desperation to find Seokjin has simmered down, making the guilt strike in the most unexpected moments.

The town turned into your place of comfort, one you can proudly call home, and your job with Taehyung became your source of happiness amidst the confusion and anger that brought your past.

In hindsight, you should have never called Taehyung a workaholic. Not when you’re probably even worse.

But now that comfort has found an inexplicable wall, so tall and tough it almost seems irrecoverable. The gentle smiles you share with Taehyung are now strained and painfully fabricated, and the involuntary cold shoulder you’ve been giving him has apparently spread to him — long gone are his long, one-sided chats that made you smile to yourself as you graded tests and looked over half finished homework. There are no more abrupt trips to the store because he forgot to get his favorite junk food, and the easy banter that always defined your relationship melted like ice under the sun. Even if it was only between coworkers, it was all you got from him.

And it is so, so painful.

Not knowing if it’s the (one-sided) soulmate bond that’s making you hurt or not makes it even more frustrating. There is, technically, no bond formed — but you thought there’d be some kind of shift after gazing at the colors, that maybe a new bundle of feelings would magically emerge from your chest and extend to your fingertips. You have heard all kinds of stories, of people falling in love instantly and others feeling a sense of rightness and slowly fell for their partners.

Somehow, Taehyung’s words start acquiring some logic. Maybe it is all in your minds — as humans who long for love and affection, the ones who believe in their soulmates the most probably delude themselves into this extraordinary romance, claiming an unyielding love that’s probably not even there. Maybe, there are others who felt hesitant about it at first, but seeing the colors made them believe how they’re probably meant to fall for that person in particular, so they just… do.

It would make sense, given your confusing, peculiar feelings for the man. Ones that are not particularly romantic — not yet, at least. Maybe it is no more than a rare reaction that humans cannot explain yet, and you’re just getting tricked into it.

Or maybe you’ve just been around Taehyung for way too long.

The strained atmosphere almost lasts two weeks, and it is actually Taehyung who breaks the ice. It is so unexpected you can’t help but break down, bottom lip trembling as you struggle not to cry.

“I’m so sorry— I’ve behaved like an idiot these days. I understand if you want to fire me,” you say in a shaky voice as you get up from your desk, starting to pace around the room as Taehyung sits quietly on the couch, recorder in hand and laptop precariously balanced on his legs. He’s still wearing his shades even though you both came back from school two hours ago, which makes you wonder if it’s his way of hiding his expression. “I… I can explain. I think. It’s weird, I’ve been feeling weird—”

“Leave that for dinner tonight,” Taehyung says, making you close your lips. The faintest smirk lifts his lips and your chest floods with relief — it’s been too long since you saw his face brightening up. “We can go to that seafood place near the coast and… talk. What do you think?”

The way he says talk does not sound entirely casual, as if there’s a hidden meaning behind it, one too big for such a short word. You still nod, though — quickly following it by a loud yes when you remember he’s not wearing his normal glasses.

“Now hush. I need to send an email to the Mauna Kea Observatory.”

“...Aren’t you the important boss.”

He snorts, hushing you again before starting to recite his email to the laptop. And even if the conversation ends there, you know things are definitely going to get easier, and a hint of normalcy is finally visible in the horizon.

The day passes evenly, and you both decide it’s time to go right after the sun drops. It is an unusual sight to see him get out of the house with his normal glasses — they do not help him see flawlessly after all, but they still allow him to watch his steps and to glance at your face with clear recognition in his eyes.

You reach the seafood place in no time, and you’re given a table placed against a secluded corner. The faint realization that they probably assumed you were a couple hits you as you both take a seat, which makes your cheeks flame embarrassingly fast.

It is impossible to concentrate on the menu in your hands. Your mind seems to be on overdrive tonight, and you can’t stop wondering if there’s someone around who can see the amazement that overcomes your features whenever you look into Taehyung’s eyes, still incredibly hypnotizing as they glint with burning stars. Someone can probably overhear the sweetened thoughts running through your head, which only makes your embarrassment grow and god, you should have asked him to wear his darker shades instead—

“Oh my god, stop thinking.”

His sudden words make you lift your eyes from the menu, which you haven’t read a word from. Taehyung’s giving you an amused stare, one eyebrow arched as you let out a strained laugh.

“That’s… a bit rich, coming from you.”

“I know, but you can get worse sometimes. You know that, right?”

You huff, no retort forming in your tongue. You might not be as smart as him, but you have to accept that his exhausting ways have adhered to your everyday life. The conversation does not delve any deeper from there, and you almost feel calm again as you both place your orders and start waiting for the food to arrive.

However, he’s quick to pick it back up. With his hands above the table and features softening, he looks straight into your eyes — something you have thoroughly avoided for days, because you still cannot get used to the swirling cosmos in them — and opens his mouth to speak.

“I understand if you want to leave.”

“What?” out of all the things you expected him to blurt out, that definitely was not on the list. “Leave? Why would I do that?”

He clears his throat, a distasteful grimace curving his lips. “The whole… comet thing. You’re clearly beyond uncomfortable with our current arrangement, so—”

“That’s not why I was—” you take a long, deep breath, forcing yourself to remember that blurting out the truth would not lead the conversation in a desirable direction. “I… I don’t care about the soulmate thing. I want to move on from it. So don’t worry— I’m going to stick around.”

You’re not entirely sure how much is a lie and how much is the truth. It is all jumbled together, coming out of your lips in unrestrained, confusing words. You can only feel confident about wanting to stay — that conviction has never dwindled in your mind, even if Taehyung being your soulmate has twisted things in ways you can’t quite understand yet.

He seems slightly startled by your words, eyes not quite focused as his expression freezes.

“Things are going back to normal, then?”

You nod, turning serious. “Is that okay with you?”

“Of course. Yeah. It’s great,” Taehyung nods, the faintest smile stretching his lips. His eyes are inscrutable as he looks down at the menu again, and he does not meet your gaze when he speaks again. “We’re sticking to our routine, then.”

His words spark a slow realization, one that grows alive and clear as your thoughts finally start rearranging, shaking off the confusion that has clouded your mind for the past few days. Hearing him say that is actually relieving, and you can now understand the countless, different journeys of soulmates, how some of them connect in a heartbeat and how others go through a slow burn, like the gentle glow of the lamps inside yours and Taehyung’s home.

Maybe you and Taehyung are not any of those things — and the thought of you being platonic soulmates does not sound all that wrong in your head. He can’t see your colors, after all, and you suppose it was meant to turn this way all along. And then Jimin’s words ring in your head like the twinkling sound of a morning clock, assuring you that it can’t hurt you to be friends.

Friends. Yeah, you think you can do that, even if his eyes still try to rob the air from your lungs whenever you’re not careful enough.

/

The switch is so abrupt, it almost feels like it was all a bizarre dream — the days of looming awkwardness and reluctant chatter never existed, dissolving into thin dust and completely invisible in your eyes. None of you voice it out loud, but it makes you wonder if it’s his way (and yours) of saying how much you missed working with each other.

The routine is remarkably comforting, fills you with warmth and easiness, but you have not forgotten about the promise you made to yourself during dinner three days ago. It makes your mood shift and triggers twisting nerves all over your body, which are particularly awake today — an opportunity has finally presented itself, and even if you wanted to ignore it, you’d berate yourself endlessly if you dared pass it up.

“Taehyung?” you call, lifting your gaze from your laptop as you squirm on the couch. He stops fiddling with one of the telescope’s lenses, looking in your direction with his usual casualness. You can only beg internally that he doesn’t notice the way you stiffen at the sight of his eyes through his thick rimmed glasses, too staggering even if they hold no more than faint interest.

“I’m not going to make you work tomorrow, if that’s what you’re going to ask,” he smirks, as if knowing your words before they’re out in the open. “Like I’ve told you countless times, Sundays are just for you. Try to enjoy them, will you?”

“That’s not— I was just—” you clear your throat, frustrated at the way your tongue suddenly ties itself. “The Yugen festival.”

“What?”

You sigh, holding back the urge to slap your burning cheeks. Okay. One more try. “Tomorrow’s the last day, isn’t it?”

Taehyung frowns, nodding. He doesn’t seem to understand yet and you’re already wishing you could backtrack, too mortified as you fail to form a coherent sentence in your chagrined mind. The way the colors in his eyes keep swirling doesn’t help, either.

“We should go tonight,” you finally spill, failing at making it sound nonchalant. It should not be a big deal — all kinds of people visit the Yugen festival, which takes place after the comet sweeps across the sky and lasts for about two weeks. It all revolves around the comet and the sungrazing lights, which, unexplainably, shine even brighter after the comet passes. Soulmates might be the main protagonists of the event, but families go, friends go, and it should not be too strange to invite Taehyung, a boss slash coworker with whom you’ve been coexisting for three years.

Voicing the offer out loud should not make you feel like bolting out of the room in less than a second.

“Oh,” he perks up at your words, eyes glinting, and for a second a swell of hope floods your chest. “Do you want to do research? That’s actually a really nice idea, we could get a new perspective from there. I can even take the smaller telescope I have around somewhere. I think it’s broken, though—”

A shaky laugh bubbles past your mouth, swell of hope rapidly shrinking. “Ah, no. I just thought it’d be fun. Not work related.”

“Oh,” he repeats, face turning blank. “Uh. Sure, I guess?”

“It’s fine if you don’t want to go—”

“I want to,” he says, words fast and clear. “I’m just not sure how I’ll do with all those lights. Festivals tend to be very… shiny.”

Your skin flushes even more at your following words. “We can avoid the crowded spots.”

And then he’s beaming, bright and radiant like you rarely see him, and your embarrassment finally feels somewhat justified.

“Sounds like a plan, then.”

You should know better than to imagine a plan going smoothly in your head. 

Only three more hours pass before the sunset starts drifting down, and the sky feels calm and unruffled when you finally get out of the observatory. Something you’ve come to love about this forfeit town is its fresh weather, which clings firmly to the ground no matter how many times the temperatures rise or drop. With July just starting, clothes are supposed to stick to your skin and the air is meant to hit you with rough heat, but it’s been three years since you felt that sense of suffocation crawling through your veins.

But then you reach the festival, sky rapidly darkening as trails of bright lanterns start to light up the path to the packed stands — and if you feel overwhelmed already, you cannot imagine how it must be for Taehyung, who brought in his dark shades just in case. He’s wearing them already, lips tightly closed as you guide him through the loud mob.

By the time you reach a somewhat secluded spot — right on the other side of the festival, where a foothill begins and leads to a scarcely dense forest — you’re already sweating from the heat of the crowd, cleaning your forehead as you sneak a glimpse towards a serious looking Taehyung.

“What’s with that face?” you ask with a laugh, trying your best to sound cheerful. You pat his shoulder before looking at the hill, undoubtedly less illuminated as the moon starts to rise between the trees. “We could hike the mountain. It doesn’t look that high.”

“You wanted to see the festival, though,” he mutters, disappointment oozing from his voice. You ignore the stir in your chest, smiling gently before shaking your head.

“It’s okay. Besides, I’m sure we can get a nice view of the sungrazing lights up there. What do you say?” you offer, already knowing he wouldn’t resist such a proposition. Taehyung explained, some time ago, that they’re not painfully bright for his eyes — it is mainly sunlight and artificial lighting what gives him pain, which you’ve unconsciously started to avoid as well.

It takes him a couple of seconds to finally smile, nodding eagerly.

“Well, look at you. You know me more than I thought.”

You can only laugh at that, a yelp flying past your mouth when he starts walking up the hill without notice. Just like always, he seems to know his way around, though the darkness makes him stumble once or twice and you have to start pointing out particularly sharp slides or obstacles in your path.

You have not overlooked how strangely quiet Taehyung is tonight, as if being outside and not focused on his work makes his usual fast pace slow down a little. He’s always buzzing with energy, words never stopping as he babbles on about new researches and discoveries, but tonight he reminds you of a zephyr, with his mellow steps and restful aura that allows him to glide up the hill as if he was walking on clouds.

You pick the spot for you two — right on top of the medium sized mountain and next to a particularly thick tree that stands out amongst the rest. You can see the lights of the festival from up there, which extends a few miles across town. Much farther away, if you squint enough, you can almost see the other hill, crowned with the observatory that you now call home.

The sight on the ground pales in comparison to the one on the sky, though. The sungrazing lights have always shined in the distance, its glow as soothing as the moon’s, but tonight they’re a little bit more defined and polished, stirring and pulsing just like the comet you saw two weeks ago. You can only compare the lights to the vivid stripe that separates land from sky after the sun goes down, weaving violets and blues and oranges like the wistful strokes of an artist.

These lights seem much more alive, though. They move and sway, forming an entrancing dance that is still too foreign for the human brain. You and Taehyung take a seat against the tree, and it’s with a muted smile that you watch him take off his glasses, leaving his eyes bare to the light show.

“Hey, stupid question,” you start, clearing your throat. “Why are they called sungrazing lights?”

Taehyung turns at that, eyes wide. “Are you serious?”

“Just tell me,” you huff, mildly mortified. “I kinda accepted it, never asked myself why they have that name.”

“Well, aren’t you a great scientist!” Taehyung laughs openly at his own joke, making your cheeks flare.

“Gosh, nevermind.”

“Wait, I’ll tell you,” he chuckles, laughs vanishing but allowing a faint smile to stay. “It’s part of how they were discovered, almost seventy years ago. It was actually this really skilled hiker who saw them for the first time— according to his story, he reached the top of a high mountain right as the sun was starting to rise. He said he could see the curvature of the earth from the top, which is actually a lie, of course,” he rolls his eyes, making you bite your lip as you restrain a laugh. “But what surprised him the most were these strange lights that seemed to surround the sun as it rose from the east. When he came back from the top, he just kept referring to them as the sungrazing lights, and the name stayed.”

“That’s… not what I expected.”

“I know, right?” he exclaims, voice rising as his eyes flicker with excitement. “When I heard the name when I was a kid, I thought it’d be related to the orbit of the comet—”

“You thought that as a kid?” you’re still restraining your chuckles, lips curved upwards as he gives you a somewhat embarrassed look. “Sorry. I keep forgetting you’re a genius.”

“Wow, thanks for forgetting.”

Laughs pour out this time. The minutes dash by like tickling seconds, conversation flowing effortlessly while the sky darkens. The lights start simmering with even more vigor, and with the fall of the night comes a new kind of feeling, one that’s more than silent awe and lightheartedness. Something slightly heavier, a sense of intimacy that lodges itself within your chest.

It is noticeable in the way your voices grow dimmer, as if to allow the lights to shine brighter. Taehyung’s shoulder keeps brushing yours and it’s hard to think of him as no more than a platonic soulmate, someone whose connection with you is not meant to overstep any boundaries. And right as the trivial conversation dies down, you know there’s a topic that needs to be touched, one you have to share if you want a new kind of friendship to start forming.

“Taehyung.”

“Hmm?” his eyes are hooded as he observes the light show, almost lethargic as he turns to you with a questioning gaze. His face is perfectly clear under the glow of the lights, and the sight mixed with the dark blue of his eyes makes you falter, words stumbling out of your mouth.

“There’s something I’ve been wanting to tell you for a long time,” you begin, clearing your throat. “Maybe you suspect already, though.”

“Is this about your secret research?”

You whip your head at that, eyes widening as you look into his own. He does not look the least resentful, a tiny smile tugging at his lips as he shrugs.

“I almost made Jimin spill once, but he’s too good at keeping secrets.”

You sigh, relieved at the light expression on his face. “Sorry. I just didn’t know how to talk about it.”

“Don’t worry, I understand. I mean— we talk about work from the moment we wake up ‘till midnight. It’s a little difficult to break through that.”

“Aren’t we right now, though?” you ask without meeting his eyes, voice involuntarily smaller. Your muscles tense up as you wait for him to answer, eyes sliding towards the sungrazing lights to distract yourself from your own nerves.

You almost jolt when you feel him ruffling your hair, a quick but fond gesture that leaves you stunned.

“Yeah,” he nods, beaming. “So… tell me about this super huge secret you’ve been keeping for three years.”

The glare you send him holds no hatred, too busy preparing the words scattered in your mind. “It’s… about my family, actually,” your voice cracks, and you clear your throat. “I have a brother that’s two years older than me. His name is Seokjin, and we got pretty close after— um, when my dad left. He got to see the lights right after his eighteenth birthday. I was sixteen so I couldn’t be there with him, but now I wish I was. By the next day he was gone, and we haven’t seen him ever since.”

Taehyung’s face has grown serious at your explanation, lips pursed as he plucks glass from the ground absentmindedly.

“You have no clue where he is, then?”

You shake your head, shaking off the sudden tightness in your chest. “He called my mom once, just to tell her that he was alive and well, but he never specified where he was. A part of me wants to believe that he just… wanted to vanish. And that’s— that’s his decision, even if if hurts me, but what if that’s not all that true? What if he needs help? That’s why I’ve been trying to get a clue of where he is. I’m the worst detective ever, though,” you laugh, a sound that holds more helplessness than mirth. “I am sure it is related to his soulmate. For some reason, it reminds me of my parents— they fell in love when they were very young and they couldn’t see the comet yet, so they vowed to stay together and never look at it. But ten years ago he just… broke that vow. He looked at it, found out his soulmate was someone else, and disappeared just as fast. The Yugen comet is always praised and worshipped, but in our case… it just seems like it only jinx us.”

You allow the silence to take over, then. Taehyung takes his time to mull over your words and you let him, silently unrestful over his thoughtful face. When he speaks again, his voice sounds somewhat closer, even if you’re still sitting in the same position — shoulder to shoulder, knee against knee and gazes leveled.

“I’m going to save you the ‘I could have helped you three years ago and we might have even found him by now’ lecture, and say instead that I’m willing to help you now,” he smiles, a subtle twitch of his lips that turns your breaths easier. “I have a question, though.”

“Ask away.”

“Did you get jinxed, too? On the night of the comet?”

“No,” the word escapes your mouth before you can even register his question. Though he seems unaware of being your own soulmate, the urge to clear it up is still strong in your veins. He may never know it’s him, given his inability to see the colors and his clear dislike of the concept — but he should at least know that you’ve come to terms with it, that your fate is definitely more comforting when compared to that of your mother’s, or Seokjin’s. “I’m okay with what I got.”

You truly are, especially with the easiness floating in the air and the reassuring darkness that engulfs you both, dotted with unusually bright lights in the sky. Taehyung’s closeness has never felt so relieving and freeing, warm and hushed by your side, making you realize that this other side of him — less frantic and more quiescent — is not so bad, either.

“Hmm. How cryptic,” he smiles in your direction, making you return the gesture. “Can I get a name, at least?”

“That’s super, super secret. And don’t try blackmailing Jimin, he doesn’t know, either.”

He drops his head back, looking at the sky and sighing. “Okay, then— enough soulmate talk. I also have something to say.”

Your heart skips a beat at that. “What is it?”

“I’m really, really starving right now, and I would love to get my hands on some food.”

You can only huff as he gets up from the ground, extending a hand in your direction to help you up. You take it and notice the everlasting smile enlivening his features, making you realize that this was undoubtedly better than any plan of your imagination.

Unable to restrain yourself, you smile back.

“Lead the way.”

/

You thought time passed in a blink during your usual routine with Taehyung, but it is nothing compared to the way the days fast-forward now that you’ve formed a solid friendship.

No break from work is left vacant now — and your days of locking yourself in your room just to nap or read a book whenever you could have now turned into random trips to the commercial main road, or walks along the shore or short visits to the forests that surround the mountains enclosing the town. One or two times you’ve even visited Yoongi and Hoseok — who received you both with flabbergasted stares — and if you’re feeling particularly giddy on a Friday night, Taehyung takes you to the bar where he got drunk for the first time (“I started fighting this guy who believed the Earth was flat. Don’t laugh, I got a black-eye!”). Some other times, you lead him back to the hill where you saw the sungrazing lights shining the brightest, a spot that has now become safe and comforting.

It’s as if you held yourselves back during three long years, adamant to make up for all the time you lost now that the wall has been shattered.

The days slip in a blur and soon enough twenty days have passed, and even if the lines between work and spare time have started to blur, Taehyung is back to his busy, restless self tonight — there’s been a particularly strong solar flare recently, which makes him ten times more eager to monitor the light show during the dark.

“If the theory I’ve been working on for the last five years is right, then the coronal mass ejections should make them disappear for a while, or at least dull out the colors. It should be happening tonight, which is why I need you even more focused this time, okay?”

“Yes, boss,” you quickly shut down your computer, getting up from the couch in less than a second. Going by the time on your wristwatch, nighttime will be here in a matter of minutes.

“You were surfing those random forums where frustrated teachers vent about their students, weren’t you?” he asks after surveying your nervous expression. He’s fiddling around the largest telescope of the dome, fixing lenses and checking everything is in order.

“I— I wasn’t!” it is obviously a lie, but Taehyung doesn’t prod. That only emphasizes on how concentrated he wants to be tonight, which in turn makes you grow serious as you start checking if everything is in place. You will probably start out noting down Taehyung’s fast observations, but there’s also a high chance you will be needed in the telescope, since the colors observed will play a huge part in Taehyung’s research.

“I’m nervous,” you finally say when everything’s ready. Instead of waiting by the telescope, Taehyung walks up to you and places his hands on your shoulders, making your body freeze as your eyes widen. He looks straight into your eyes, and his gaze seems to be scintillating behind his glasses.

“If we get this right, I could get my name out there. And I mean really out there,” he says in a soft tone, sending chills down your spine. “It could change things.”

Is he implying something? You can only give him a reassuring smile, lifting your hand to squeeze his wrist gently. “Whatever happens, it’ll be okay.”

He nods as he sighs dramatically. “What if I get too famous?”

You roll your eyes, making him chuckle. “Don’t flatter yourself. Let’s start, shall we?”

The night is, surprisingly, exceptionally quiet. Taehyung’s concentration seems to have reached new heights, and he glides across the room in silent steps as he checks the equipment over and over, which register numerous parameters you’re not too familiar with. You keep watch on the telescope as the hours drag down languidly, seconds painfully stagnant as they lengthen indefinitely.

It probably has to do with Taehyung’s quietness, so unnerving within the cramped walls of the dome, making you feel like you should break the silence, somehow — but you’re aware that he needs it right now, what with the looming knowledge that you might be about to discover something very, very big.

It happens at two in the morning. Taehyung sees a shift in the spectrometer he’s studying, which makes you turn to the telescope to gaze at the sky, already focused on the sungrazing lights. Except they’re barely there, and you can clearly see their colors dulling out, losing their sharpness as they grow paler and paler, turning so faint they’re no more than a speck in the sky. Within seconds the hazy remnants start to disappear, until the sky is dark and bare, no entrancing glow in sight.

“You were right,” you breathe, speechless as Taehyung takes over your place. “Taehyung, your theory was right. I mean, we still have to check if they come back in a few hours, but — that means… you just discovered where the lights come from.”

He observes through the telescope for a few seconds before stepping back. The look he gives you is of pure awe, and you can almost see burning stars within the universe in his stare.

“Oh—” he stammers, looking around in a frenzy. “Quick, quick, let’s write all of this down—”

The celebration can wait, you suppose. You stay up working until five in the morning, making sure the lights slowly come back to life while finishing up Taehyung’s latest investigation, which is about one hundred pages long. You have never typed so fast for so long and by the time you’re done your wrists ache and your sight hurts, but there’s a huge smile on your face as you save the document in a USB stick, getting up and turning to a disheveled — but still stunned — looking Taehyung. You hand it to him with a grin on your face, stretching your cheeks and making them hurt.

He grabs it and returns your smile, and something aches in your chest at the utter joy on his face.

“Eureka,” he whispers, before leaning forward to press a loud, big kiss on your mouth.

He runs out of the dome then, leaving you standing in the middle of the room as you try to make sense of what just happened. It was too swift for you to process, but the warmth of his lips on yours still lingers, making them tingle pleasantly. Your skin gradually flushes as the realization takes form in your mind, a squeak escaping your mouth as it finally hits you — we just found out the truth about the lights. Taehyung kissed me.

Your legs feel weak, but you still run out of the dome, walking down the stairs with shaky steps until you reach the first floor. Taehyung’s on the kitchen, for some reason — phone on his ear and words flowing clumsily as he explains what just happened to the person on the other side of the line.

“Yes, yes I can— thank you,” he exclaims, voice wobbly. He smiles again when he hangs up, grin widening when he notices your presence. “The city’s observatory — they want me to go there right away.”

“And we’re going,” you add, heart stuttering. Taehyung nods as he puts the phone back on his pocket, a long sigh slipping past his lips.

“We’re going. I mean— if you want to—”

“Yeah,” you nod, streams of adrenaline pulsing through your veins already. “Let’s do it.”

It takes you seconds to get out of the house, with bloodshot eyes and tousled hair and clear fatigue slouching your features. The recent events keep you both awake as you practically run towards the train station, blood still fizzling with burning exhilaration. Thoughts still on overdrive, you haven’t stopped to think about the kiss or what it truly entails — the only image you can focus on is Taehyung’s radiant face, a burning light that hasn’t abandoned him yet.

Ten minutes later you’re already buying the tickets while Taehyung checks the departures’ screen. No words are exchanged as you join each other again, walking side by side towards the correspondent platform. You feel like you can breathe again when you check the countdown and see there are only four minutes left, and your body almost melts onto the floor as the burning sensation brought by the thrill starts to dissipate.

“Well, at least we’re not late. We would have waited thirty minutes had we missed this one—” turning towards Taehyung makes your voice halt, body numbing as your eyes make sense of the sight in front of you.

He’s sitting on one of the benches, face pale and hands clutching his knees as if his life depended on it. The look on his face reflects utter horror and it makes a chill run down your spine, legs almost bucking as you approach him. You kneel down right in front of him, hands covering his as the fear starts to churn low on your stomach.

“Tae. Are you okay?” you know it is a ridiculous question to ask, of course he’s not okay — but you feel utterly helpless as he continues to breathe deeply, eyes slowly opening to look into yours.

“I’m sorry,” he croaks out, voice weak like you’ve never heard it before. “Can we go home?”

“Of course. Can you get up?”

He nods, taking a few seconds to breathe some more before moving. You hold each other’s hand as you go back, but none of you say anything — it feels right and natural to keep some sort of contact, keeping you and him firm on the ground as you allow the silence to spread. You decide to take a detour then, still holding his hand tight as you reach the darkened shoreline.

Summer nights in this town are probably your favorite — seized by the perfect balance between heat and cold, and never failing in helping you achieve a peaceful state of mind. You can only hope it’s the same for Taehyung, not daring to speak yet as the sounds of the faint waves crashing against the shore replace the stilled silence.

You turn around when you feel Taehyung’s hand slip away from your own. He has stopped walking, a long exhale leaving his mouth when his eyes meet yours under the glow of the moonlight.

“I’m sorry about that,” he scratches the back of his head, gaze lowering. “I thought I could…” his voice vanishes. He seems to be struggling for a few seconds, taking deep breaths before talking again. “I haven’t left this town in more than ten years. I got a bit… used to how comfortably I live here, how easily I can manage by myself even if it’s daylight— I know every step I need to take, I know all the roads and corners and houses, and going to a place where I can't do that, even during the night… is just— it’s terrifying.”

You nod as Taehyung’s words echo within the walls of your mind. Hearing such fragility in his voice is not something you’re used to — Taehyung has always been strong and determined in your mind, an unrelenting force that dashes across the universe like the Yugen comet. And he still is, but it is now that you realize how such an impression is far from being realistic. Taehyung is… just like you, and you can see it in worried eyes and the heavy bags under his eyes. Unbearably tough, but also hit with occasional bouts of unsteadiness.

“I was so ecstatic— I thought the adrenaline would help me get over it,” he explains, giving you an awkward smile. “I guess not.”

“It doesn’t need to be today, Taehyung. You’ll get through it, eventually.”

“I guess you’re right. But I thought today was it, you know,” he sighs, looking towards the sea. “Thanks for bringing me here, by the way.”

You glance at the reflection of the moon above the sparkling surface. It is soothing to the eye, and reminds you of the lethargy you’ve been holding off for hours now. Your eyes are starting to droop, and the blurry image of your bed flickers across your mind, already feeling warm and inviting.

You go back home, and not holding hands again makes your fingers itch. He doesn’t say another word, entering the house and walking up the stairs in complete silence, heavy and hushed under the stillness of an early morning. Your attention goes back to Taehyung when you reach the second floor — and the drowsy goodnight forming on your tongue never leaves your mouth, vanishing when he speaks up first.

“You don’t pity me, do you?”

He’s giving you a drooping smile, voice drained and sleepy. The way his eyes seem clearer eases off the clenching sensation in your chest, and it’s not that hard to smile back at him, gesture genuine.

“How could I pity the smartest man on Earth?”

“You forgot most handsome.”

You laugh, feeling deeply relieved. “Don’t push it. Congratulations, by the way.”

“Right back at you,” his smile grows a bit dimmer, intimate. Your heart speeds up in a matter of seconds, making you fidget as a flood of heat simmers under your skin. You bid each other goodnight then, and it feels strange to end the series of recent events on such a quiet, abrupt note — but the sleepiness is too heavy to ignore, and you’re barely able to change your clothes before crashing down on the bed.

Just like that, dreamland engulfs you, swallowing down the swirling thoughts that revolve around lights and comets and one particularly warm kiss.

/

Waking up with a clear head forces you to recognize two important things.

One, that Kim Taehyung’s name is probably going to spread across the world like wildfire.

And two, the kiss was most definitely a casualty, one that surged from the heat of the moment and nothing more.

None of you mention it after waking up, sun already high in the sky as it announces the arrival of midday. Taehyung spends the afternoon dealing with numerous phone calls, and you busy yourself with some unfinished work from school. There’s a strange hangover looming over your head, one brought up by the rampage of emotions you both went through last night — but instead of nagging headaches and fuzzy memories, there’s only a sense of clarity in your head and a lightness in your chest.

You feel like there are no more walls between you and Taehyung, and when he finally meets you at the dome right after sunset, the smiles you give each other are bright and transparent.

“Wanna go eat something outside?” he offers, dropping his phone on the table. “I’ll leave the phone here, I’m tired of scheduling Skype meetings.”

Your heart throbs at the sound of his voice, which doesn’t surprise you. You’ve probably been whipped for the boy for a long time, and it is almost ridiculous how something as simple as a random kiss unleashed what you just didn’t want to see. It became relatively easier as the friendship grew — the less you saw him as your nagging, chatty boss, the more comfortable it got to accept the feelings stirring in the background — which are ridiculously far from platonic. It ultimately exploded, which you should have expected a long time ago.

You accept Taehyung’s proposition — and instead of hitting the seafood place like you usually do, you decide to get street food near the coast instead, taking a seat a few feet away from the waves of the sea as you accommodate yourself on the sand. It feels painstakingly natural for him to sit right by your side, his knee brushing yours as you both fill your mouths with delicious, unhealthy food.

“I have something to tell you, by the way,” he begins after swallowing, glancing at you from the corner of your eye as the breeze caresses his fringe. “There’s another reason why I wanted to try leaving town.”

“Oh?” you take another bite, unable to control your hunger. “What is it?”

“Eat that first. What I’m about to say might make you choke.”

You swallow the food down, looking at him with more intent. His shoulders are hunched and he seems to be having trouble meeting your gaze, which you can only identify as guilt. You wait, trying to push down the nerves tickling your skin.

“I have an inkling of where Seokjin might be,” he says, almost making your heart stop. You’re already parting your lips to speak, but he continues, forcing you to gulp down your words. “I had this silly plan of going by myself and giving you a surprise, and for that I needed to learn how to leave. Besides, I’m not completely sure he’ll be there, so I just… wanted to spare you the disappointment if that wasn’t the case. But now I know how stupid that was— and I’m sorry for not telling you before.”

You take a deep breath, trying to control the shaking of your hands. “That’s okay, Taehyung. This is my issue to solve, and you shouldn’t go through all that trouble. This place you’re talking about… where is it?”

He looks immensely relieved now, smiling gently in your direction. “I’ll give you the details when we go back home. And, well— it doesn’t have to be your issue. After all, you’re more than an assistant, or a coworker—” your heart jumps at his words, making you fidget. “—You’re a friend. Friends do these kind of things for each other… or at least that’s what Jimin says.”

You laugh, feeling suddenly giddy and nervous and overwhelmed, all at the same time. A sudden realization strikes your mind, then — in the form of a grounded truth, one that says how you would have probably fallen for Taehyung one way or another, soulmate bond or not. You can feel that knowledge reinforcing your feelings, warming your insides while the freshness of the sky after sunset cools your heated skin.

Now you know that you need to say something.

But first, there is an entirely different matter you need to attend.

/

The direction Taehyung gives you is not something you would have imagined for your lost brother.

You lost count of the days and nights you spent wondering if he had a shelter to sleep under, if he was hungry or cold, if he was taking care of himself enough, if he was happy. Countless questions plagued your mind for months and years, which became a tortuous routine that sprang to the top of your mind at irregular times. With no firm lead to work on, you could only search with what little resources you had, aided by the limited help brought on by Jimin and your mother.

Had it not been for your work with Taehyung, the guilt and the feeling of inadequacy and helplessness would have swallowed you whole. Which is why too many years spent worried sick can only turn into faint confusion when you arrive at the magnanimous house located three hours away from town, lost in the countryside and surrounded by beautiful, carefully groomed green areas.

And that confusion slowly turns into blind, sizzling anger when you arrive at the door and ring the bell, only to be received by your own brother ten seconds later.

Your hands curl into fists by your sides as your mouth parts to say something, but your voice never comes out. Your throat makes a small, frustrated sound that never evolves into words, and your gaze starts turning blurry as Seokjin’s eyes widen. Seokjin, looking as healthy as ever, face a little bit more mature looking but still dotted by that pink hue that seemed permanent attached to his cheeks.

Seokjin, your own brother by blood — alive and well right in front of your eyes.

You push him hard, making him stagger back as you turn on your heels and stomp away from the place. Angry tears run down your face, stinging your cheeks as your throat tightens, and the hand that suddenly curls around your wrist and forces you to stop doesn’t surprise you. You pull away from his hold and look at him through your watery gaze, cleaning them angrily as he recovers his breath from running.

“Let me explain,” he finally says, voice as smooth as always. “Please. Let me talk first.”

“Yeah, whatever,” you sniff, trying to regain your composure. “But I’m not going inside that place,” you don’t know what it is, anyway — but you’re confident he’s not the only one living there. The place looks like it could shelter at least twenty people, if not more.

“You can’t, anyway. Come on, we need to find a secluded space,” Seokjin urges, still unusually serious. It doesn’t fit him, not after enduring his ridiculous jokes for more than ten years. He guides you around the house, and your steps falter when you get a glimpse of the gardens behind it, extending infinitely towards a thick forest a few miles away. You feel slightly intimidated under the distinct atmosphere, one that screams comfort and extravagance.

He guides you inside of them, taking a seat on a bench strategically placed between two large shrubs that hide you both from prying eyes, surrounded by thick trees that sway with the tender winds. The back of the house is practically hidden from your sight now. You still join him, looking at him straight in the eye as a frown forms between your brows.

“Tell me what’s going on.”

He sighs, long and loud, as if mentally preparing himself for his next words. You can’t help but imitate him, knowing that you probably need to prepare yourself, too.

“The day of the comet, I saw bright shades of purple,” he begins, eyes casted down. “And I immediately knew who it was. I don’t know if you remember— you were young, and I didn’t want to bother you with my love issues, but… you do know who Namjoon was, right?”

You nod, gulping. Though you only remember them as friends, you always had the hunch of something more going on. He breathes again before continuing, exhales shaky as they glide past his lips.

“Well, the moment I saw the purple, I knew it was him. And the thing is— we had a really bad history, Y/N. One I’m glad you didn’t get to see,” he licks his lips, looking down again. “To sum it up, we were together on and off, and so in love, but he wanted the world to know about us and I… I didn’t feel ready for that. Our different views in our relationship made us fight constantly— we basically drained each other, so we decided to end it, together. It was a mutual choice.”

He takes a few moments again, silence broken by the rustling of leaves.  

“Anyway… by the time I saw his colors in the comet, it’d been a year since I last saw him. And I felt such… desperation, this need to go where he was, to find him and tell him sorry for all the things I said—” he shakes his head, as if recalling the memories with pain. “That urge was one of a kind, Y/N. Maybe I was too young… maybe I should have waited another five years. But I didn’t, so I decided to leave the house and follow the instinct that was eating me inside. I found Namjoon, two hours away from home… and god, I hope you never experience the pain that comes from getting rejected by your own soulmate.”

The absolute torment in his voice takes your breath away. The anger you felt before has dimmed down dramatically, leaving a stirring sadness that latches around your neck, not as strong to block the air in your lungs, but still firm enough to feel a slight discomfort.

“He never wanted to see the comet because he had a feeling that it’d be me, and he was right. Hearing the words he said triggers this… feeling. I’m sorry, but I just don’t know how to explain it— not even after five years,” he gives you a stilted smile, one you return just as quietly. “I spent a few days in a daze, until I found this… nomad group who were just like me, and fed me will all kinds of bullshit about finding a cure for my pain— but I was desperate, so I joined them in this search of a cure that was never there. I worked for them and all the money I earned went to their so called research, but I escaped when I found out there wasn’t any— two years later.”

“Christ,” you breathe.

“Yeah,” he huffs, chuckling. “But then I found this place,” he gestures to the house, silent and gentle looking in the background, with its white walls that glow under the sunlight. “Who also help people like me. But it is mostly spiritual — they help you cleanse your soul with different practices, and you get to go to therapy and try all kinds of methods. I know, I know what you’re thinking— that this is probably bullshit, too. And it may be. There are some things I don’t agree with, but I like it here. The people are nice, and I’ve gotten better, even if it’s been a bit of a slow process. It’s quiet and refreshing and I have friends— and honestly, it is all I could ever ask for.”

“Seokjin,” you start, words strained as you allow them past your throat. “You could be dealing with the sketchiest cult of the country, you could have joined a dangerous gang, I don’t care. I just wanted to know you were well, I wanted to hear your voice.”

It’s been a while since you sounded like that — like the sixteen year old teen who felt comforted under her brother’s reassuring words and warm hugs. Small and weak, and so unaware of the world. Seokjin hugs you then, and you welcome his embrace like you would’ve had five years ago. Without any hesitance, giving him as much comfort as he’s currently giving you.

“I’m sorry, but I am not allowed to keep any contact with the past,” he finally explains, patting your back as he pulls away. “They have good intentions, I promise. It’s just that they believe a fast recovery comes from a total cleanse, and that includes pushing your previous life away, at least temporarily. I’m sure mom told you about the call I made— I managed to sneak one in, but I almost got caught and I can’t afford to get kicked out. I’m already being too reckless by talking to you here.”

“Then promise to recover fast,” you sniff, wiping away the lone tear that managed to escape. “Get better and find me and mom afterwards.”

Seokjin nods, smiling again. The gesture is real this time, making a spark of hope flare within your chest. You get up with urgency, feeling restless now that you know you shouldn’t be here, talking to him.

“If you really like this place, then I’m okay with you staying,” you declare, swallowing thickly.

“I really do.”

“Then I should get going,” you glance around, biting your lip. “I don’t want you to get caught.”

You give him another tight hug, clumsy and rushed.

“Get better,” you repeat, so softly, before turning around and walking away.

“Wait!” he calls, making you halt as you look behind. He’s still sitting on the bench, fingers digging onto his knees, and there’s a new kind of anxiousness brightening his eyes, as if scared of the next words he’s going to voice out loud. “Your soulmate. Have you met them?”

You nod, smiling widely. “I have.”

You don’t need to give him more explanations — he can probably tell already, just by the look on your face. His own features brighten, making your chest swell at the thought that maybe, just maybe, your own happiness could give him a slight push towards his recovery.

You do leave this time, steps a little bit more confident and heart beats picking up, face flushed and eyes glazed as a million thoughts race past your mind. You know it is time — the moment you go back, you’ll face Taehyung and tell him how you feel, how you’ve felt all these days and weeks. For Seokjin and your mother, who never got to find true happiness under the colors of the comet.

It is the least you can do, for them and for yourself.

/

“Y/N!”

“What are you doing here?”

Taehyung’s waiting outside of the train station, sitting on a bench and facing the empty parking lot. He’s wearing his dark shades, protecting his eyes from the vivid sunset that’s starting to melt the sky. He gets up when you voice the question, boxy smile stretching his lips as he approaches your voice in eager steps.

“Did you find him? How did it go? Tell me everything.”

“Well, aren’t you a busybody,” you chuckle. “Yeah, I found him. Come on, I’ll tell you on the way home.”

You allow the words to flow freely, not holding anything back as you walk side by side, crossing roads and passing the shoreline before reaching the familiar hill that leads up to the observatory. The sunset’s falling and the lights on the sky are not so bright anymore, and by the time you get t the familiar facade Taehyung is able to take off his glasses, stopping and narrowing his eyes at the poorly lit sky.

He looks at your face then, and closes his eyes. It is something he does sometimes — when the light is not quite dark enough, he tends to look at something for the briefest second before letting his eyelids drop, observing the image inside his mind at his own pace. The fact that he’s currently looking at your face, imprinted in his eyes, makes a deep blush crawl up your neck and cheeks.

“Hmm. You look so happy,” he opens his eyes again, deep blue flickering as he looks into yours. “I’m glad you got some closure with your brother.”

“Me too,” you swallow, squirming on the spot. “There is another closure I haven’t gotten, though.”

“Oh, no. You’re letting me talk this time,” he smiles, making your limbs freeze as your lungs constrict. “First off, I need to apologize for being a liar.”

“A— what?”

“A liar,” he repeats, clearing his throat and lowering his eyes, in that way of his that shows his own mortification. “I lied when I told you that I looked at the comet when I was thirteen.”

You blink, stunned. “Why would you lie about that?”

“Because I’ve always been too scared of the stupid comet,” he laughs, running a hand across his face. “Of what I’d see if I ever looked at it. I started telling that lie when I was fourteen, and it kinda stuck. I never got around to backtrack my words. Until now, that is.”

You swallow, nerves surging through your insides. You do not know where the conversation’s going, but there’s a flash of hope making your legs tremble.

“Why now?”

He meets your eyes again, clear and intense, just as bright as the day when Taehyung made his discovery. “Because I looked at it this year. The same night as you did.”

“Oh,” the air escapes your lungs, leaving no air in your body as you try to maintain your composure. “Oh. What did you see?”

Taehyung smiles, still speaking in that unnervingly slow pace that does not match his usual frenzied prattle. “I did not get cured magically, if that’s what you’re asking. I’m still the same old Taehyung, averse to sunlight like a damn vampire.”

You can’t even laugh at his joke, too distressed by what he might have seen that night. “But…?”

“But I did see something. And the thing is— I don’t know what color it is,” he sighs, gnawing on his bottom lip. “And I don’t think I’ll ever know. After all, how can I compare it? Everything else is just… dull. And there is this color, that I saw in the comet and that now I see every time I look at your face.”

“You— you never said anything—”

“Neither did you!” he huffs, cheeks burning. “You looked so ill after that, so I just figured you didn’t want to have to do anything with it. And you still believed the comet didn’t work for me, so it was easy to just— bury it down,” he winces, running a hand through his hair. “But then you seemed to get used to it, so I supposed you just wanted to be friends.”

“Those are too many assumptions, Taehyung. Hasn’t science taught you to trust facts over guesses?”

He smiles at that, biting his lip again. “I mean… I was always able to hold back my feelings, not to let them intervene with our work. But with us… being friends, and actually doing things— it got more than I could handle. I would have cursed my weak heart in the past, but now I know better than to let it consume me,” he continues, voice a bit livelier as he connects his gaze with yours. “So… yeah. I just wanted to put it out there. I’ve been in love with you for two years now—” he confesses, making your thump loud in your ears. “And honestly? the comet had nothing to do with it.”

“For having made one of the biggest discoveries of the decade,” you mutter, blinking away your tears. “We’re both dumb. So, so dumb.”

You kiss him, catching him off guard as he stumbles. It is almost too overwhelming, especially after your trip to Seokjin’s mysterious treatment center, but your body moves on its own as your arms circles Taehyung’s neck, pressing yourself flush against him as he starts gliding his lips gently, almost too focused as his hands caress your back.

“Let go,” you whisper against his lips, smiling at his reddening cheeks.

“Sorry, I’m still coming to terms with the fact that you actually feel the same—” you cut him off with your mouth, moving your lips against his as ripples of pleasure curse through your body up and down. It is too good, too ideal to be real — and your overworked mind almost convinces you that there’s probably a catch, a tiny detail you missed that will crumble everything down, reminding you that you’re not meant to find happiness like this—

But it’s easy to shut it all down as Taehyung breaks the kiss and grazes his lips against yours, smiling wide as he closes his eyes to see your face against the walls of his mind, mixed with the colors in your eyes that he can’t describe.

“I’ll find out what color it is,” he murmurs, eyes still closed as he presses another peck against your lips. “I promise I will.”

“Hmm. Good luck with that.”

“Is it the sea? It’s probably the colors of the shoreline,” he pulls away, and you have to restrain the whine bubbling up your throat. But his eyes are flashing with pure joy and the smile on his face never falters, turning into a mischievous smirk as he starts walking down the hill. “I bet I can race you there with my eyes closed, and still win.”

You laugh, and the bubbling sound gets lost into the darkening sky. It has acquired that hue of vivid blue that reminds you of a rising dawn, not quite dark but not quite pale either — and you’re already missing the way the comet glided past Earth, how Taehyung’s dark blue contrasted against the sky after sunset.

You can’t wait to see it again in five years — and the next five years after that.

“Come on. Are you chickening out?”

You snort, taking a deep breath as a fond smile breaks through. Oh, I hope he never changes.

“I never do. You’re on.”

#armiesnet #btssunshinenet #bangtan bookclub #kwritersnet #taehyung scenarios #taehyung fluff #bts fluff #bangtan fluff #I can't tag this as angst tbh it's too light haha #I hope you all enjoy!!! #writing