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#week 12a
kithsune · 2 years
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Aiite, y'all. It only took me a week, but I'm slowly fixing my jetlag....... only for me to leave in another week and re-adjust to another timezone. CRIES. :SAdasdsadsakdsadl;ga
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gotham-ruaidh · 2 months
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Little Bit Better Than I Used To Be
Catch up: Chapter 1 (Starry Eyes) || Chapter 2 (Save Our Souls) || Chapter 3 (Dancing On Glass)|| Chapter 4 (Merry-Go-Round)|| Backstage (1) || Backstage (2) || Chapter 5 (Danger)|| Backstage (3) || Chapter 6A (Love Walked In) || Chapter 6B (Without You) || Backstage (4) || Chapter 7 (Stick To Your Guns) || Chapter 8 (Time For Change) || Backstage (5) || Chapter 9 (Take Me To The Top) || Backstage (6) || Chapter 10 (Home Sweet Home) || Backstage (7) || Chapter 11a (Nightrain) || Chapter 11b (Nothing Else Matters) || Chapter 12a (Handle With Care) || Chapter 12b (I’m So Tired of Being Lonely) || Chapter 13a (Angel) || Chapter 13b (She’s My Addiction) || Chapter 13c (Patience) Chapter 14a (Where Do We Go Now?) || Chapter 14b (Where Do We Go Now?) || Chapter 14c (Where Do We Go Now?) ||| Also posted at AO3
Chapter 15A: Dreams
Wilmington, North Carolina
Labor Day Weekend, 1988
I'm hung up on dreams I'll never see Help me baby, or this will surely be the end of me…
 - Dreams, The Allman Brothers Band (1969) [click here to listen]
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“I’ll be upstairs in just a few minutes. Did you finish your reading?”
Ten-year-old William MacKenzie shook his head. “I was going to, but that’s when Daddy arrived with Jamie and Claire – I mean, Mr. and Mrs. Fraser. And then it was time for dinner, and then - ”
Gillian Duncan MacKenzie bent to kiss her son’s forehead. “All right then. Why don’t you get yourself all caught up?”
William’s eyes darted over to Claire, seated across from his mother at the kitchen table, sipping sweet tea.
“Jamie and I will be here all weekend,” she smiled. “You’ll have plenty of time to talk with him about music tomorrow.”
His face brightened. “OK! See you in the morning!”
Claire couldn’t help but smile as William darted out of the room, footsteps quickly thudding on the stairs.
Gillian turned to face her guest. “He’s so excited. It’s not every day that a bona fide rock star is here in sleepy Wilmington.”
“Thank you for asking him to not tell his friends at school. I’m used to the attention now – ”
Gillian raised an eyebrow skeptically. “Are you?”
Claire shrugged. “Well – no. I don’t know if I ever will be. But one thing that won’t change is how much we value our privacy. So – thank you.”
“Of course, Claire. Privacy and discretion are what I do professionally – how could I not extend the same courtesy to you, when you’re a guest in my home?”
“Still. Thank you.”
A beat. Claire sipped the sweet tea Gillian had made – the same recipe she’d grown to love, those months at The Ridge. Gillian gently pulled Claire’s left hand across the table, studying her rings.
“You said this was his grandmother’s engagement ring?”
Claire nodded. “He inherited it when she died. His sister Jenny kept it for him, until he asked her for it. Called her the day he got home from The Ridge, and went to see her the next day. He gave it to me a few weeks later.”
“A man who knows what he wants.”
Claire smiled. “And I’m a woman who knows what she wants.”
Gillian returned the smile, then focused on the wide band next to the engagement ring.
“I love how solid and simple your ring is. Silver?”
“Platinum. His is the same. Wide enough for an inscription on the inside.”
“I do,” she had whispered. Smiling through the tears. Thinking he looked just a bit ridiculous in his suit. Sliding the band inscribed “Forever My Love” across his knuckle.
“I do,” he had whispered. Eyes burning, full of awe. Agape at the simple gray dress she had chosen, his mother’s pearls around her throat. Sliding the band inscribed “Forever My Heart” onto her finger.
“I am so pleased to…” Professor Quentin Lambert Beauchamp loudly blew his nose into a polka-dotted handkerchief. “Excuse me. I am so pleased to pronounce you husband and wife. Jamie, you may kiss your bride.”
He did. To the applause of the ten dear friends gathered in Joe and Gail Abernathy’s Boston backyard.
“That’s beautiful.” Gillian lay her own left hand on the table, adorned only by a thin gold ring. “Dougal never gave me an engagement ring, and he insisted I have the gold band for our marriage. His is silver. He had just sunk all of his money into building The Ridge, and we couldn’t even afford flowers at the reception.”
“That’s beautiful, too, Gillian. And I understand why you wouldn’t want to upgrade. Because what you have now, is that much more meaningful.”
“I was sitting here, when Joe and Gail staged the intervention.” Jamie looked over at his wife – his wife!! – gazing up into the arbor behind the house. “The vines were heavy with grapes. I remember thinking, how appropriate that I’m looking at what could be wine.”
He pulled her closer against his side, and kissed the top of her head. Careful of the tortoiseshell combs that Jenny had so lovingly placed in Claire’s hair as she got ready this afternoon.
“Ian confronted me in a hotel room in…Sacramento, I think. I had been so wasted on stage the night before, slurring through half the songs. Jenny had come to see Ian, and she was so scared for me. She had already done the research, made a few phone calls. I puked the whole flight across country to North Carolina.”
“It’s always the ones we love who we hurt the most,” she murmured.
“I’m never going to hurt you, Claire. You know that, right?”
She turned to face her husband – her husband!! – and smiled. Reassuring.
“I do. And you know I’m never going to hurt you, Jamie. Right?”
He nodded. Couldn’t help but kiss her.
“Ah!”
Dougal MacKenzie and Alec MacMahon turned the corner, and cheered. “Here you are! Come on – don’t let us have all the fun without you. Can’t miss your own wedding reception!”
Gillian nodded. “I don’t need it. I have the life we’ve built together, and our son, and a man who somehow thinks the sun rises and sets with me. I’ll never understand it.”
Claire swallowed.
Of course Gillian noticed.
“Don’t ever doubt how much he loves you, Claire. I’ve seen you two together – you’re so natural with each other. That’s never going to change.”
She clenched her hand into a fist. Centering herself.
“It’s…it’s just so…intense, with him,” she whispered.
“We don’t have to tonight, Jamie. We have forever, now.”
His hands shook as his thumb softly, softly traced down her neck, across the pearls, and settled into the cleft between her breasts.
“I want to, Claire. I want you so much I can scarcely breathe. I just…”
“Do you want to talk about it?” Gillian asked gently. “I can be your therapist, or I can be your friend. But I will listen.”
Claire took a deep, calming breath. “Being on tour – I see now how he developed the addictions. Every aspect of it is so stressful. He feels so much pressure to lead his band, to write music, to live up to the fans’ expectations. And he has to deal with the label and the tour manager and the production guys, and do media, and somehow find time to eat and shower and sleep on top of all of that.” Her thumb twisted her wedding ring. “He’d use the drugs to come up, and the alcohol to come down. And the women to just forget about everything for a while.”
“Are those groupies?”
Colum had organized a small gathering for the band and crew to celebrate the first show of the acoustic tour. No alcohol or drugs in the room – though Claire quickly learned that the rules by no means extended to hallways and bathrooms and storage rooms at the venue.
Jamie squeezed her hand, standing side by side in the corner, both of them holding a can of Tab.
“Yeah. I can ask them to leave, if you’re feeling uncomfortable.”
“No need.” She dropped his hand and quietly approached the four women giggling on the other side of the room.
“Ladies. I’m Claire Beauchamp. I’m with him.”
She turned slightly, looked at Jamie over her shoulder, and then turned back to her audience.
“So?” A girl wearing a strategically ripped Def Leppard t-shirt popped her gum. “That’s not what I heard about the last time he was here.”
Claire’s eyes narrowed. “That was then. This is now. I will say this only one time. If you even think about flashing a boob, or smiling at him, or trying to get him alone? I will end you.”
The girls gaped.
“Tell all your friends here in Albuquerque, please. Are we clear?”
“And now, that you’re there with him?”
Claire smiled. “He’s eating and sleeping a lot better. Has a lot more energy. He so desperately wants to do everything right. And I’m not going to lie, Gillian – seeing him perform the songs he wrote for me at The Ridge, and then being there when he comes off stage, all keyed up from singing and playing the guitar…”
“It sounds like in many respects he’s replaced his additions with you.”
Claire looked up, meeting Gillian’ gaze. “Of course he has. The album and lead single will be called She’s My Addiction. Doesn’t get any more obvious than that.”
“And how do you feel about that, Claire?”
She lay her hands flat on the table. “I’ve never felt more…loved, and cherished, than when I’m with Jamie.”
She frowned and opened her eyes when he stopped brushing her hair, one morning in Minneapolis.
“What – ”
The pads of his fingers swept the left side of her neck, still a bit tender from his kisses after last night’s show. “I bruised you. I’m sorry.”
“Hmm. I’m not.”
She swallowed. “But it’s so, so hard sometimes. He loves me for who I am, but I don’t want to do anything to fuck it up. And he stresses over so much that he doesn’t have to. Gillian, he’s been having panic attacks all tour.”
“My God. Is he seeing anyone to help with that?”
Claire sighed. “You’re looking at her. Thank God I did that psych rotation when I was in med school. I’ve helped him recognize the signs, and he knows enough to tell me when it’s happening so that we can get away and I can help him through it. But I’m not a psychiatrist. I can’t be everything he needs. He has to do a lot of work to explore what’s triggering him, so that he can manage that. Because after we take the break at the end of the year, we’ll be on the road for most of ’89. The label has booked more than a hundred shows.”
“And you’ll be with him?”
“Of course. He’s the air I breathe. I know this sounds insane, but we want to try for a baby next year. That way he can be off the road, off touring, to be with me if the timing lines up.” She sighed. “So I’ve talked to him about bringing a therapist with us on tour. He needs to have that kind of support from someone other than me. Especially when we’re in Europe and he’s playing soccer stadiums and dealing with a next level of bullshit.”
“Do you want some recommendations? Between Dougal and I, we can definitely help you find someone.”
Claire smiled thinly. “That would be wonderful. It has to be someone we both trust. Who can deal with all the craziness.”
Gillian nodded. “Consider it our wedding gift to you. I – we – really want to help you. You know this, Claire – getting sober is hard, but staying sober is so, so much harder. It does and doesn’t get easier with time. Dougal would say the same thing.”
“Do you ever miss it?”
She settled her chin into his shoulder, nestled securely in his lap. Together they watched the cornfields of Iowa glide by, thousands of feet below.
“No. Not really. The pills helped me deaden the pain. And my life doesn’t have that kind of pain at all, now.”
The private plane had four clusters of four seats, two seats on each side facing each other with a table in between. Jamie and Claire always had a cluster to themselves. Ian, his bass tech, Jamie’s guitar tech Arch, and Angus’ drum tech always sat together. Colum kept to himself. Leaving Angus in the final cluster – which he shared with the two groupies he’d been surprisingly faithful to since Albuquerque. He hated flying, but the girls certainly made it easier for him – plying him with snacks, rubbing his back, squeezing him between them in the big seat.
Claire turned slightly, and inhaled at his temple. Kissed his earlobe as he shivered. “I know you miss it, Jamie. And it’s OK.”
His grip tightened on her hip. “You taste so much better,” he whispered. Eyes far away.
Claire wiped the corners of her eyes. “I just love him, Gillian. So fucking much.” She took a deep breath. “I’m so proud of him, for everything he’s done, and for the man he’s worked so hard to become. I’m not going to lie – sometimes it’s so damn hard to deal with everything. With all of his past shit, and how he still lets it mess with his head. It doesn’t matter how many times I’ve told him that none of it bothers me. Not the drugs, or the alcohol, or the destroyed hotel rooms, or what is probably hundreds of women. I can’t let any of that bother me, because that’s not the Jamie I know. But Gillian…”
Gillian reached across the table and took Claire’s hand.
“He makes everything so fucking hard sometimes. He starts to spiral, and he worries that I’ll have had enough and walk away. But then we just take a deep breath, and we look at each other, and all the bullshit is gone, and it’s just so easy again.”
“You need a day off!”
Jamie rubbed his hands over his face, exasperated. “I do have a day off tomorrow, Claire. You know as well as I do that there isn’t a show.”
She huffed, hands on her hips. “Not the point, Jamie. I saw the call sheet for tomorrow. You’re meeting with the label, and then with Colum to talk to the merch guy, and then the lighting team, and then you’re doing some local radio spots. That’s NOT a day off!”
He shrugged. “At least we can get dinner together and it won’t be shitty venue food.”
She pursed her lips, trying so hard not to scream. “Do you not remember the panic attack last night? You were sobbing in my arms, Jamie. It was really, really bad. And then you were so exhausted, but you wanted to be a hero and do the show anyway, and then you tripped over your fucking amp when you went on stage and could have broken your arm. Where would that leave us, hmm?”
He reached out to her – and she stepped back.
Not done with him yet. 
“You need rest, Jamie. Your body is going to shut down. And that won’t be good for anybody.”
“Is that your medical opinion, Dr. Beauchamp?”
A hint of a smile. Good.
“Yes. I’m your personal physician. I’m prescribing a day in bed, sleeping.”
He smirked. “OK. But only if you’re in it, too.”
She shrugged. “I’m not making any sense.”
“Yes you are,” Gillian smiled. “You said it’s intense between you – there’s no way it couldn’t be. Set aside his being a musician, and being in just about the biggest band in the world right now. Think about how and when you met. What had happened to both of you beforehand. All the changes you’ve made in both of your lives, in a relatively short timeframe. It’s overwhelming. And being on the road with him this summer had to have just upped that intensity.”
“We’re together non-stop. Which has been great, because we have so much time. We have what nobody else has, and I treasure that, I really do. But it’s also exhausting sometimes.” Claire paused, considering. “Nobody else knows what I’m about to tell you, but it’s another factor. We…we didn’t…” She closed her eyes. “We waited until our wedding night.”
Gillian’s silence was a gift.
“We were both so scared. I know that sounds ridiculous, but I think we were worried that…that it wouldn’t be good, for some reason. And it was good, Gillian. So fucking good. We both cried.”
“You’re everything.” He kissed her nose and cheeks and forehead and mouth over and over and over again, his tears mixing with hers. “My heart is going to burst.”
She hugged him tighter, nails digging into the flames tattooed on his shoulders. “Love you,” she whispered, breathless. “Love you love you love you love you…”
“I don’t need to tell you this, Claire, but I will anyway. It’s been a really good decision to spend so much time together, to really get to know each other, before you were married. Both of you deliberately wanted your relationship to be different from anything you’d known or done before. And now that last barrier is gone between you. So everything has changed, am I right?”
Indianapolis. Married one week. He couldn’t stop smiling at her, standing side stage during the show. She couldn’t stop giggling when he found her after the encore, threw her over his shoulder, and ran to his dressing room. His breath hot against her lips, breathlessly pleading for her to stay quiet, as they loved each other on the sofa and the techs and roadies and catering people and production staff bustled by the locked door.
“It has, Gillian. But in many ways it hasn’t. It feels like yesterday, and it feels like forever.”
New Haven. Married two weeks. The morning after a powerhouse show at the Coliseum. A penthouse suite overlooking the water. She had slipped out of bed in the dark, opened the curtains wide. Watched him watch her as she returned to bed. Held his gaze as they loved each other, dawn breaking over their faces.
“I get that. You’ve introduced another layer to your relationship. Probably the most complex layer that there is.”
Providence. Married two weeks and two days. Holding each other in a bath, Jamie’s hand splayed across her belly, Claire’s nose buried in the curtain of his hair.
“So, be patient with yourself, Claire. Cut yourself a break.” Gillian reached across the table to squeeze her hand. “And just enjoy yourself! My God – what an incredible life you have.”
Claire’s smile was the widest Gillian had ever seen.
“Holy shit. I married a rock star.”
“I heard that!”
And then Jamie was there, smiling, and kissing Claire’s smile.
Dougal hung back in the doorway. Exchanging smiles with his own wife.
“Come on, rock star. You said you’d help me hook up the new CD player.”
Jamie pulled back. Rubbed his nose against Claire’s.
“Hey, Dougal?”
Dougal crossed his arms. “What?”
Jamie stood. Squeezed Claire’s hands. Kissed her wedding ring.
“Love is a much better high than any drug.”
Dougal rolled his eyes. “I’ll put that on the new pamphlets we’re printing up for The Ridge. But the stereo won’t install itself. Help out, and I’ll even let you play that new stuff you brought.”
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writemywaytoyourheart · 8 months
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Bedeviled | Chapter 12b: Apple (continued)
warnings for this part *contains SPOILERS*: suGgEsTive content, summoning demons (do not), pregnancy, miscarriage, severe depression, manipulation, major heart break I'm sorry, sickness, death, loss, mentions of torture.
this part can get heavy, pls read at your own discretion.
WC part 2: 13.2k
read 12a first...HERE
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Just as you suspected, Jungkook spent every waking hour hunting down any and every little thing that might lead him closer to a way to stop the curse.
He spoke to people in the village, who led him to the towns over, who then led him to the towns just a few further down. 
Yoongi stayed with you a lot upon Jungkook’s request. He didn’t want to leave you alone, but he refused to give up. There wasn’t any effort he didn’t go to trying to save you. 
There were many tears. 
Many nights full of enraged screaming when it was thought no one could hear the soul behind the desperate cries for help, when he was all on his own; looking at the stupid fire he made to keep himself warm on the nights he was away, looking for help.
He didn’t bother throwing those thoughts into the flames. They were what kept him going.
-
You already had your fill of rage and sorrow over the past year; although it still ate at you internally, turning your stomach to knots every waking moment. 
Jungkook, on the other hand, continuously held out hope that perhaps he was trapped in a nightmare that he would soon wake from. 
He would go to you, and you would not be worn down with the symptoms that continued to grow worse. The dark circles under your eyes would not be there, only the beautiful shining light in your irises that could chase away even the nastiest storm.
You would not be sitting on the floor and trying to figure out how to draw to pass the time, but instead, running through the sunlit forest and climbing the apple tree. 
He would find you in the clearing and wait just for a moment. 
A few seconds to admire the beauty in front of him, the sun shining on your fingers as they reached for the clouds.
You would smile at him.
And everything would be okay. 
And he would love you. 
-
The next year passed much like that, Jungkook never resting. 
He would come back bearing ointments claiming to cure any ailment, prayers that would heal even the sickest. Nothing worked. You could see it wearing him down, the dark circles under his eyes growing each night he didn’t sleep. 
“Jungkook, please stop this.”
He looked at you from where he was finishing putting together a satchel. 
“What do you mean?” He asked, turning back to tighten the clasp before swinging it over his shoulder. 
“You know what I mean,” You whispered, frustration building up inside you. 
You were so tired, all you wanted was to be with him.
He had missed your seventeenth birthday, and if he left again, you were going to miss his nineteenth. The poor boy was in tears for days after not getting back until the day after your birthday. The guilt consumed him for weeks, he almost couldn’t handle it.
You really didn’t want to see him like that again.
“I found something, I know it’ll work this time.”
“What is it?” You gritted out between clenched teeth. 
“Something that even the curse can’t fight,” He sounded more hopeful than he had in months, “It will work, Apple.”
You stared at him with furrowed brows, “What is it?”
“A flame,” He said quietly, not looking you in the eye. 
“What kind of flame?”
He finally looked at you, “It doesn’t matter-”
“It does to me.”
Jungkook sighed, “It’s called the Flame of Immortality. If you just trust me-”
“What?” You were beyond confused and more than a little stressed out, “That sounds like trouble, Jungkook…how did you come to know about this?”
He looked at you steadily before whispering, “Desperation will lead you to many secrets.”
You swallowed, “Don’t. I don’t want you to-”
“Apple, you can’t just tell me not to-”
“I don’t want to be immortal!” You were getting frantic, “Not without you-”
“It might work on two people, I won’t know until I learn more.”
After a moment of tense silence, he said quietly, “I’m not going to give up.”
“I’m not asking you to,” You took a deep breath, “I just-...”
It was silent save for your heavy breathing. You put a hand to your head, the room suddenly feeling as if it was tilting. 
“Apple?”
You didn’t answer him, focusing too hard on not toppling over. Despite your best efforts, you fell forward, quickly losing consciousness.
Jungkook caught you before you could tumble off the bed, holding you in his arms as he lowered to the ground. 
You came to a minute later, curled up in his lap as he hugged you. 
“I’ve got you,” He whispered tearfully, hand caressing your hair. 
“Jungkook,” You spoke quietly. 
“Mm?”
“I miss my best friend,” You gripped his clothes tightly in your fist, “Please, don’t leave me again.”
He closed his eyes, a few tears sliding down his cheeks as he put his chin on your head, holding you close. 
“Okay.”
He sounded so defeated. 
You hated to make him feel like that, but you were scared to be alone. You didn’t want him to leave anymore, especially because you really didn’t know how much longer you had. 
“I love you,” You whispered, messing with the sash on his waist as you continued to rest in his hold. 
“I love you too, Apple.”
You smiled and closed your eyes, breathing deeply. 
“Can we climb the apple tree?” 
He gulped, hating that he was unsure of granting your request. After a minute, he couldn’t bear the thought of denying you. 
“Of course.”
-
He held your hand the whole way there. 
“Want to swing first?” His voice was pitched higher, clearly trying to sound more positive. You smiled at the old swing, the rope handles fraying a little. 
“Yes, please.”
You sat down, giggling as he pushed you gently, your hands gripping the rope tightly. You looked over to the bush where you always imagined the invisible person to be and smiled. 
I’m okay. 
They knew you would be.
Then you looked up towards the sky, seeing a few rain clouds floating. 
Don’t cry for me, I’m okay.
The grass was soft against your feet. 
Jungkook helped you climb up to your sitting spot, settling in across from you and smiling at the pure joy on your sweet face. 
The wind was gentle on your sensitive skin.
“What are you thinking about?” He asked after watching you smile at the clouds for a few minutes. You looked at him, a light in your eyes that hadn’t been there for over two years. 
“I want to get married.”
His heart clenched in his chest, “You do?” He whispered. 
You nodded, practically glowing. 
___________________
The wedding had taken place in Jungkook’s old home. Tradition was to do it in the bride’s home, but that wasn’t an option.
You saw her that day, before the ceremony. She passed by as you were walking through the village. There wasn’t a single sign that she cared you were there. She simply walked on, not even sparing you a glance. 
That was the last time you ever saw your mother. 
-
Jungkook was his sweet and gentle self the whole day. By the time you got back to the shed, you were practically vibrating with joy. The wedding ceremony was beautiful, all you could’ve ever wanted.
Your wedding night was even more so, and the next morning, he was right by your side. 
“Happy birthday,” You whispered with a smile as he kissed your forehead. 
“Thank you,” He scrunched his nose at you, then he leaned down and placed a sleepy kiss on your lips, “How are you feeling?”
“I’m okay, Jungkook.”
He knew you were, but that didn’t calm his fears. 
“I don’t think I’ve ever been happier,” You whispered, gaze never leaving his beautiful dark eyes. The way you looked at him like he was your whole world made his heart ache. 
“I know I haven’t,” He whispered back playfully, making you laugh. 
_________
It was only a few weeks after your wedding that Jungkook left again.
He hadn’t told you.
In fact, he had purposely made Yoongi go and distract you. You were almost hysterical when you figured out what happened, your cousin had to physically keep you from storming out of the shed. 
It wasn’t a rundown abandoned shack anymore; Jungkook had worked on it since you left your mother’s and stayed there. He worked tirelessly with you helping where you could- mostly holding things for him and being his emotional support buddy- until it felt like a home; somewhere you two could live comfortably for many years. 
It didn’t feel like home that day. You were so angry with him for leaving you alone again. 
Yoongi tried to calm you, tried to explain how Jungkook must be feeling; his wife and best friend slowly dying and there was nothing he could do to stop it. 
“He said he wouldn’t leave!” You cried into your hands, “He lied to me!”
“____,” Yoongi held your shoulders, “If he thought you would die without him, he would not have gone. He has hope, you need to let him give some to you, too.” 
You clenched your jaw, fighting the tears back.
You felt betrayed. 
If you were in his place, you wouldn’t give up either. But you could feel yourself slipping away. You wouldn’t be able to fight it much longer.
Your body was tired, more than you let on. No matter how much you told it to woman up and be strong, it continued to fail. 
At that point, it was normal for you to have fainting episodes daily. 
You didn’t let your cousin know, but your legs had begun to swell a little in the past few weeks. Your husband never hesitated to rub them gently in the mornings to help with the swelling.
You wouldn’t have told him either, but of course he noticed. He was married to you. 
Jungkook meant well by leaving, but he promised you he wouldn’t, and he broke that promise. 
You would never forgive him if he left you to die alone. 
-
Jungkook lit the fire, then stepped back, holding the herbs tightly in his sweaty fist. 
Out of nowhere, there was a sudden whisper of warning somewhere to his right, making him flinch and look over. There was a slight breeze, rustling the leaves. When he saw no one, he turned back to the task at hand.
Closing his eyes, he gulped as he tossed the bundle into the fire, whispering the words he was told to say.
A moment passed, but nothing felt different. 
He opened his eyes, anger seeping into his chest as the tears burned; threatening to spill. 
That old man was just insane, he should never have listened-
“Well if it isn’t another desperate little human.”
Jungkook flinched and turned around, coming face to face with a tall dark-haired man; his beauty unnatural. There were large black feathered wings upon his back, resting while not in flight.
“Are you a demon?” Jungkook whispered, his eyes falling to the tattoo on the man’s bicep. 
A white rose…dead, and being strangled by a serpent. 
“I’m not just a demon,” He whispered with a smirk, “I’m the demon.”
Jungkook wasn’t sure what he meant. 
“Lucifer,” He practically hissed as he observed the human in front of him, “And you are?”
“Jungkook.”
“Well, Jungkook,” The demon called Lucifer smiled menacingly. 
There was a split second where Jungkook saw him glance over his shoulder as if seeing something behind him, then his smile grew, “What can I do for you?”
The young man swallowed, “I need the Flame of Immortality.”
“I see. And what use would that be to you?”
“There’s someone I need to save,” Jungkook whispered. 
Lucifer chuckled darkly, “Typical. And you think the Flame will save them?”
“It has to,” Jungkook grit his teeth, “I don’t have any other choice.”
“Well,” The tall man leaned closer, “What if you did?”
“What?”
“What if you had another choice, human. Would you take it?”
Jungkook blinked, then nodded, “If it means I can save her, then yes.”
The demon smirked as he watched the despicable mortal become more and more helpless even as they just stood there. Tears formed in his eyes, then slid down his cheek. 
“What on earth did the big man do to you and your poor girl?” Lucifer whispered, feigning pity. 
“She was cursed,” Jungkook wiped his nose, “She’s dying. I- I can’t live without her-”
He burst into tears and fell to his knees, heart aching more than it ever had as reality came crashing down on him.
If this didn’t work, he was going to lose you. 
The demon watched him with a glint in his eye and a smirk on his handsome face, “What if I told you that I can cure her, and you won’t even need the Flame.”
Jungkook looked at him with wide eyes, “Can you?”
“Most definitely.”
“Please,” Jungkook choked out, “Please break the curse.”
“Oh, it isn’t a curse, silly boy.”
He looked up at the demon in confusion, “But-”
“It’s something she was born with,” He waved a hand dismissively, “A mere disease.”
“Oh,” Jungkook wiped at his eyes again, “But you can take it away?”
“Of course.”
Jungkook felt his heart rate increase as he realized that he had finally done it. He found a way to save you.
He broke down into sobs, “Please help me-”
"And what will you give me?"
There was another warning in his ear, frantic and pleading. Just a faint breath in the wind.
“Don’t do it.”
Jungkook trembled, his hands clasped as he tried to contain his tears enough to speak. 
"I- I'll give you anything, just please save her-"
"Anything?" 
The young man nodded frantically, bowing his head, "Whatever you wa-"
"How about your soul? A life for a life."
Jungkook was startled at that, looking back up at the demon.
"M-my soul?"
A simple nod in reply, nothing else. No negotiations.
He gulped. 
An image of you smiling at him, only four years old as you held the apple out, came to his mind. 
“Jungkook, please-”
He nodded shakily, forcing himself to ignore the voice that whispered its last warning, "Ok."
A smirk spread on Lucifer’s face as he crossed his arms, the tattoo of the dead rose on his outer bicep stretching as he did, "Looks like we have a deal.”
-
You blinked your eyes open, taking in a deep breath. 
Was it morning already?
Sitting up, you rubbed at your eyes before looking around your tiny little home. You slept better than you had been for a while; it must be the bed that Jungkook spent almost a week making. He said it was long overdue, humble and shy as always when you praised his hard work.
You took another deep breath in, blowing it out in a large puff. 
Just before getting out of the bed, your eyes landed on a beetle crawling across the covers. At first, you almost jumped out of the bed screaming.
After a moment to calm yourself, you looked at the small thing, minding its own business as it walked along slowly. It really wasn’t very big, maybe half the size of your pinky nail. Leaning down to look closer, you saw pretty gold patterns along its back, a vibrant green peeking out here and there. 
“Oh, you’re quite pretty,” You whispered. The beetle paid you no mind as it continued on its way. 
“You’ll die in here,” You said softly, gathering your bravery and leaning over to brush it gently into your hand, “There’s no food for you.”
It sat still in your palm, not moving as you brought it closer to get a better look. You smiled, keeping it safely in your left hand as you pushed the covers from you with your right and swung your legs around to get off the bed. 
Just as you were moving to hop down, something made you freeze.
Your brows furrowed as you leaned down to look at your legs. Had the swelling gone down overnight? They looked…normal.
The past week, they had kept getting more swollen each day, to the point it was painful to walk. You never told Yoongi, and it was easy enough to keep it hidden under your long skirts. There was no reason to worry him. You had a feeling he knew that your time was coming soon anyway. He just refused to believe it. 
You looked back at the beetle in your hand, “What do you think?” 
Lowering your hand so he could see your legs, you gave him a moment to consider, then you brought him back up, “Do they look swollen to you?” After a moment, you nodded, “That’s what I thought too…we better get you outside.”
Once your bare feet hit the floor, you almost flinched at the fact that pain didn’t shoot through your legs at the contact. You had been expecting it.
Your eyes widened as you looked down, seeing your toes against the wooden floor. The simple white night dress hung down to mid shin, showing how normal your calves looked. 
Taking in a long breath, you felt your lungs expand. 
It didn’t hurt to breathe. 
Tears sprung to your eyes as you looked at your little friend. Excitement that you were going to have a good day filled you as you couldn’t help but laugh. Without another thought, you ran out of the shed and into the sunlight.
The moment you stepped onto the velvety grass, you stopped short, still holding the beetle. 
Twenty feet in front of you, Jungkook was there. 
He looked worn out, but there was a smile on his face at the sight of you first thing after walking all day and night to get home. 
Carefully, you bent down and shooed the beetle onto a leaf, then you straightened up and stared at the person you had feared you might not get to see again.
A few moments of silence passed, the two of you just looking at each other.
“Hi, Apple.” He finally whispered.
You didn’t say anything, just broke into a run. 
He caught you as you flung yourself into him, tears springing to his eyes as he wrapped his arms around you and lifted you from the ground. Wrapping your legs around his waist, you hugged him as tight as you could. 
“I missed you,” He mumbled into your neck.
You couldn’t respond, all you could do was breathe shakily, never wanting to let go.
Jungkook adjusted so that his hands were under your bottom so he could better hold you. Once he felt you were secure, he carried you back inside your home and sat on the bed. Still, you said nothing, you just kept your head tucked into the space between his neck and shoulder, not moving yourself from his lap.
After a few more moments, you whispered, “I thought I was never going to see you again.”
Jungkook caressed your hair gently, “I’m sorry. I couldn’t just sit around and do nothing.”
“I know,” You sniffled. 
His hands ran along your sides and down your legs, pushing the nightgown up so he could run his palms along your thighs. He had missed your warmth for weeks, it felt almost unreal finally being back in your arms.
As he was running his hands up and down along the length of your legs, he suddenly stopped. You pulled back to see a look of confusion on his face as he glanced down to where his hand rested on your ankle. 
“What is it?” You asked.
“Lay down for me for a second.”
You weren’t sure what he was getting at, but you still crawled off his lap and onto the bed. As soon as you were off of him, he turned around and looked at your legs, holding your ankle and slightly pushing up your skirt to better see them. 
Your cheeks warmed.
It had been weeks since you two had done anything. 
“Apple,” His voice sounded weak with emotion as his eyes flitted back to yours, “Can you take a deep breath for me, love?”
He watched closely as you took in a big breath, your chest expanding and deflating as you did so. Not a single cough passed your lips.
As you took another breath, you saw tears in his eyes, a look of pure disbelief on his face. 
“You’re okay?”
“Hm?” 
“Your leh-...your legs aren’t swollen,” He whispered, warm hand caressing your calf once more, “And you took a breath and it…it didn’t hurt you?”
You shook your head with a small smile, “It didn’t hurt me.”
“It worked,” He breathed, looking back into your eyes. 
Your eyes shifted back and forth between his. 
“What do you mean?”
“The curse...it’s gone.”
“Jungkook, what are you saying-”
Your words got cut off when he leaned down and pressed his lips to yours. 
Laying back on the bed, you sighed into his mouth as he climbed over you, hands back to pushing at your dress.
You didn’t understand what had gotten into him or why he was crying as he ran his thumb in circles on your bare waist, deepening the kiss as he did. Whatever was going on, you weren’t going to fight it. 
Jungkook’s breath shuddered as he moved back to look at you, then he leaned down again, unable to get enough of the taste of your lips.
Whatever would happen to him, it didn’t matter. 
You were going to live.
-
At first, you didn’t believe him when he explained that you were no longer cursed. But as the weeks passed by and you only felt more and more alive, it started to hit.
He never said what really happened in detail, only that he found a cure. He didn’t know it was going to work until he came home and saw you. 
Jungkook never hesitated to do anything with you. He wasn’t going to take time for granted ever again. There wasn’t a day in the following months that you didn’t go outside and run around, climbing trees and making him take you out on the boat.
Each day you felt stronger, even more so than before the symptoms started. It was like life was surging through you at new levels and shining from within. He could see the light in your eyes, the glow in your sweet face. 
You were going to live. 
____________________________________
It was May; Jungkook’s favorite month. 
It was the month of your birth, nothing could ever top it. The world seemed a little brighter, a little more colorful; just a bit more full of purpose. You turned eighteen in the middle of the month, but the start of that day wasn’t as fun as you thought it would be. That morning you didn’t feel well. The two weeks leading up to your birthday you weren’t feeling well either. 
You had missed your monthly course, but didn’t mention it to Jungkook. It was probably just late.
Jungkook was worried sick when it seemed you were constantly feeling nauseous in the mornings. He was terrified that the disease had come back. You assured him that you were fine, that it didn’t feel like it did before. You just ate something bad and it would let up soon. 
But on your birthday when you couldn’t even keep rice down during breakfast, saying that it smelt funny and you couldn’t eat it, he insisted something was wrong. He had been begging you to go to the village and be seen for a while, in case it was something serious, but you hadn’t wanted to. 
“Apple, please. Even if it’s just for me, to put my mind at ease,” He pleaded with you that morning for the hundredth time. 
“Okay,” You sighed, “If you’ll feel better, I’ll do it.”
“Thank you,” He kissed you on the forehead, “Can I take you there on my way?”
You nodded, letting him help you up from the floor. 
-
You smiled at Jungkook’s mother when she opened the door. 
“Why, ____! How wonderful to see you!” She pulled you into a hug, smiling at her son over your shoulder. 
“It’s so good to see you,” You whispered, hugging her back. 
“I need to go to the town for some supplies, today is the only time I can,” Jungkook said before looking at you pointedly, “Apple wants to speak with you, if that’s alright.”
His mother ushered you inside, “Anytime, my dear. We’ll see you later, Jungkook!” Then she shut the thin door, not sparing another word for him.
He chuckled, shaking his head as he went on his way. 
-
“My, how long has it been?” Your mother-in-law poured some tea into a small cup for you, smiling as you thanked her. 
“At least a few months,” You said sadly, “I’m sorry I haven’t visited you.”
“Oh nonsense, nonsense,” She waved off your apology, “You two are meant to be enjoying time with each other, not worrying about coming back to this place.”
You knew she was never a fan of the people around here either. But she did a lot of good in the village with her knowledge of medicine. 
“What did you want to talk about?” She asked before sipping her tea. 
You took a drink of yours before clearing your throat a little, “I’ve been feeling a little off these days. Jungkook insisted I come to you.”
She laughed, “Of course, he did.”
You laughed with her, both of you knowing how stubborn he could be. 
“Tell me about what’s been going on, dear.”
-
“Hey, I was expecting you to be at mother’s still,” Jungkook said as he came in the door of your home, “It scared me when you weren’t there.”
“Sorry,” You whispered, eyes locked on your hands. 
“What’s wrong?” He set his things down on the table and walked over to kneel in front of you, “She said it was nothing to worry about when I asked. But she wouldn’t tell me, she insisted I come back and hear it from you.”
“I-...” You bit your lip, excitement bubbling up in your tummy as you finally raised your eyes to his.
It was the best gift you could’ve gotten for your birthday. 
He smiled gently. 
You scanned his face, wondering if they would have his doe eyes, or his sweet pink lips. 
“We’re going to have a baby,” You whispered, biting the tips of your fingers, a smile slipping out even as you tried to keep it contained.
The complete and utter shock on his face made you laugh. 
“Really?” He finally whispered, his eyes staring into yours. 
You nodded, eyes shining as you took his hand and placed it on your stomach. 
“I told you I was okay,” You said quietly, scrunching your nose at him.
Jungkook’s gaze fell to where his hand rested on you, where your child was growing. You watched happily as he closed his eyes, a few tears spilling down his cheeks.
After a moment of silence, he leaned forward, placing both hands on your lower back and pressing a kiss to your stomach, making you giggle at the ticklish feeling. 
“I love you,” He whispered as he looked up at you. 
You pushed the hair out of his face, smile never dimming as you whispered the words back to him. 
-
If Jungkook was over protective before, he was even more so after finding out that you were with child.
Instead of climbing the apple tree, he pushed you gently on the swing when you wanted to be outside. You would sit on the ground, leaning your back against the tree and messing with the silky grass with your bare feet, giggling at the feeling between your toes. He would sit with you, chuckling at your antics as he handed you an apple, watching as you munched on it happily.
“How are you feeling?”
You answered the question over a hundred times every single day, but you didn’t mind. You would just laugh and tell him you felt amazing. There was never a time in your life that you had been happier. 
Only three years ago, you were told you would most likely be dead before you even reached your twentieth birthday.
You never thought you would be nearly four months pregnant with your first child at eighteen and married to your best friend. You didn’t know what happened to change things, but not a single day passed that you didn’t thank whoever was watching over you. 
-
“How-”
“Am I feeling?” You laughed quietly at the young man who was getting ready for bed and worrying his pretty little head off about you as usual while he did so.
Jungkook gave you a look, which made you laugh harder. 
“I’m just checking,” He whispered as he climbed into bed, nudging your nose with his, “Scoot over.”
You did as he asked, blushing when you saw him watching you with a smile as you struggled to make room. “What?”
“You’re just cute,” He laughed. 
Covering your face with your hands, you turned away from him. 
“Stop,” You whined as he fought with you to uncover your face. 
“Ugh, you’re so annoying,” He pouted, then smiled again as he placed a hand on your small baby bump.
The way your belly had started to grow was so endearing to him, a physical reminder of the life inside of you. Even as you hid, he pushed your nightgown up and over your tummy so he could place kisses along the skin that stretched slightly to start to accommodate his baby girl.
“I love you, Aera,” He whispered to your belly before kissing it again as you took your hands from your face, smiling at his words. 
“You really think it’s a girl, huh?”
“Only because it is,” Jungkook stuck his tongue out at you. You thought so too, so you didn’t argue. Jungkook had picked the name, saying it came to him in a dream. 
You loved it and there was never another thought as to what she would be called. It was perfect.
He moved up until he could kiss your lips, whispering against them, “Love you, sweet girl.”
“I love you, too,” you ran your fingers through his hair, “Jungkook?”
“Mm?”
“Thank you.”
“For what, love?”
You swallowed, “For saving me.”
It was the thousandth time you had thanked him. 
His smile was warm like honey, “You saved me first.”
-
It was August. 
It was the eighteenth day of August. 
The sun was bright, but it wasn’t too hot. There was a slight breeze, just enough to cool what heat the sun did provide.
You ate rice that morning, feeling better since the sickness in the mornings weren't present the past week.
You washed some garments early in the afternoon. Jungkook insisted he could do it, but you asked him if you could do at least a few things. You wanted to do something, you wanted to be helpful.
He couldn’t stop you from arranging the roses he brought for you from the bush on the small table, tucked into the vase that Taehyung had given to you after your wedding. 
“I’m fine,” You brushed him away with a laugh as he hovered over you while you folded the clothes that were dry after hanging outside since the day before, “I’m sitting, Jungkook!”
“I know,” He sighed, shifting nervously on his feet as he watched you, “I just don’t want you to overdo it.”
“Jungkook,” You gave him an unimpressed look, “I have not felt this good in months. I have barely done anything. All I’m doing is sitting and folding, it takes barely any effort.”
“I know,” He said again, but finally sounded like he might be calming as a small smile appeared on his face. After a few minutes in comfortable silence as you folded and he worked on his most recent project, he spoke up. 
“Are you hungry?”
You thought about it for a minute, then shook your head, “No, not really. You eat if you’re hungry though.”
He pouted, standing up and grabbing a pear from the small basket sitting atop the chest, “I don’t like eating when you’re not.”
You chuckled, shaking your head at his silliness. 
“How are they coming along?” You asked, trying to distract him. 
Jungkook immediately brightened and walked over to pick up his newest work, bringing them to you and setting them gently in your lap, “They’re finished.” 
You gasped at the most adorable little booties you had ever seen. It was clear he had spent time and a great deal of love on them. 
“Jungkook, these are so beautiful!”
He blushed, “Beautiful enough for our little girl?”
“Oh, certainly,” You smiled at him, holding the little shoes to your chest in a tiny hug, “She’s going to be so grateful to have a daddy that loves her so much.”
Jungkook breathed out an embarrassed chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck as he smiled at you. 
-
It was August. 
It was the eighteenth day of August. 
The sun had set. It was cool, but not enough to be uncomfortable as you settled into bed, pulling the covers up to your chin.
Jungkook was outside speaking with Taehyung, but you were exhausted, so you went to bed early. The three of you had been sitting around the fire, chatting. 
You had no worries. You didn’t toss any worries into the fire that night.
You went to bed early.
It was just over an hour later when you woke up, wincing at the foreign pain in your abdomen. Breathing deeply didn’t help. You sat up, a small grunt of pain leaving your lips as you did.
“Ah,” You tried to take another breath, but it only began to hurt more. 
Looking over to the door, you could see the glow of the fire still burning through the cracks. 
“Jungkook,” You called weakly, wincing.
Something was wrong.
There was a warm feeling between your legs. You lifted the covers but couldn’t see anything. So, you reached a hand down, brows creasing when your fingers came away wet. 
“Jungkook,” You called out again, fear settling in your heart, “Jungkook!”
The door opened and you saw him walk in, concern clear on his face at your hollering.
“Apple, what’s wrong?”
“I- I don’t know,” You began to cry, “It hurts.”
It was the eighteenth day of August. 
You remembered only fear and pain, the sound of Jungkook screaming for Taehyung to get his mother.
The feeling of strong arms lifting you from the bed and hurrying out of the front door. 
The moon was bright on the eighteenth day of August.
You could see it shining through the leaves as they blurred past. He was whispering for you to hold on. You were terrified. 
There were no clouds in the night sky, but the stars were shining.
The world felt cold.
There were no clouds, you couldn’t see them. 
You wondered if they could see you. 
You wondered if they wept for you. 
-
“Apple?”
You looked up from the small blanket in your hands.
Jungkook wasn’t sure if you were looking at him or through him. He swallowed thickly, his heart bleeding as he walked over and sat on the floor in front of you. Slowly, he took the blanket from you, but you didn’t react. 
“I’ve got some food for you, love.”
You said nothing. He took a steadying breath, then picked up the bowl of porridge and dipped your favorite wooden spoon into it, getting a good amount. 
“Open.”
You did nothing but look at the dirt on his clothes. 
“Apple, open your mouth.”
Finally, you listened, albeit slowly. He carefully placed the spoon past your lips, patient as ever while you swallowed. It was only a few spoonfuls that day. But it was more than the day before, where you hadn’t eaten a single thing.
“You did well,” He whispered as he set the still almost full bowl down next to him, “I’m proud of you.”
There was a faint smile on your face at his words, but your eyes were empty. Jungkook closed his eyes, taking a deep breath.
It had been two months since that night, since you lost the baby. You weren’t the same since. 
He hadn’t been well either, but he couldn’t let himself check out like he wanted to. Not if he wouldn’t be there to take care of you.
Every night, he cried more tears than he thought physically possible. His baby girl was gone, his best friend slipping away from him soon after. 
He wasn’t sure how much he could handle before he followed suit. 
-
It was not until six months after the loss, that you began to come out of it. All those months were nothing but a blur to you. You had no control over anything during it. All you could remember was the color gray. It was like you had forgotten everything; how to eat, how to sleep, how to breathe. 
You certainly didn’t know how to live. 
You weren’t supposed to live. 
That plagued you every moment of those months. The guilt of giving Jungkook something so wonderful only to take it away again. You hated yourself. It felt like you had failed as a mother.
You hurt your best friend because your body couldn’t do what it was made to do. 
By the time you came out of it, you were so ridden with guilt that you almost couldn’t handle it. Not only because of the miscarriage, but because you realized what you put him through for all that time. He didn’t even get to grieve. 
“I’m sorry,” You whispered, eyes glued to the empty vase by the door. 
Jungkook looked at you from where he kneeled by the chest, just finishing putting a few things away. 
“Apple-”
“No,” You choked out, “You don’t have to comfort me. I should’ve been there for you. I shouldn't have let you suffer alone.”
He sighed and stood up, walking over to be in front of you, “I don’t blame you for that.”
“I do,” You wiped at your eyes, “And I’m so sorry. Please forgive me-”
“There is nothing to forgive,” He leaned down and kissed your forehead, “Do you really believe you chose to be trapped in that state of mind?”
After a moment, you shook your head. 
It happened instantly. One moment you were going to sleep while your husband and friend talked outside, the next moment the world was gray and you couldn’t do anything.
You lost six months of time, it was not your choice. 
But you still felt horrible. 
A few nights later, you held him as he cried. 
You dried his tears, finally able to be there for him when he needed you. 
-
You opened your eyes to see the roof of the small shack right in front of you.
A smile broke out on your face as you sat up in bed and looked to the side to see the sun shining through the window in a golden stream dancing across the dirty floor.
The bed creaked when you climbed off of it, rubbing your sore limbs as you walked over to the tiny table that Jungkook placed in the corner, smiling at the vase of flowers sitting there, as pretty as always. 
The roses must be blooming.
You sat in one of the two wooden chairs, rubbing your eyes before sniffing the air. 
Something smells good. 
You stood and walked over to the door to step outside, squinting as the bright sun wished you a good morning, shining its blinding light into your eyes. 
“Hi, love.”
You grinned at the young man who was busy cooking something over the fire, his bunny smile directed at you the second you came out. 
“Hi,” You croaked, morning voice betraying you. 
“Are you hungry?”
“Very,” You laughed lightly. 
Jungkook stood up, dusting off his clothes before walking over and placing a kiss on your cheek. 
“Good, the food will be ready soon. Oh, and Taehyung is coming over.”
“Really?” Your eyes lit up at the news. You hadn’t seen him in far too long. 
Jungkook nodded as he tucked a stray hair behind your ear, then he took your hand and pressed a kiss to your finger, right where your ring rested. 
-
When Taehyung came, he was relieved to see the two of you in better spirits. It had been over a year since you lost the baby. He wished he could erase that night from his own memory, the thought of being one of you in that situation was unimaginable. 
Jungkook was to be turning twenty-one in only a few days, and you were nineteen. Both of you had seen far too much grief in life already.
It was the first time he had seen you after coming out of the stupor you were in for half a year. 
You were taken by surprise when Taehyung immediately went to you and pulled you into a hug. Putting your arms around him, you hugged him back. 
“It’s good to see you again, little bird,” He whispered after pulling back. You weren’t aware that the last time he saw you, your gaze had been so vacant that he wasn’t sure you had even seen or heard him. You were sitting on the bed, looking at the vase he had gifted to you and never elsewhere. 
-
Taehyung stayed with you two for a few days, spending Jungkook’s birthday there.
The day after he left, you were sitting in the swing, pushing yourself back and forth slowly. The leaves on the trees were beginning to change color.
You smiled sadly at the sight of a tiny leaf sitting right next to a larger one. 
Even time could never heal some wounds. 
“Your daddy’s birthday was fun,” You whispered, pushing the swing back again, “He would have loved to spend it with you.”
It was unclear exactly when you had started to speak with her while you were alone. You refused to believe she couldn’t hear you.
Maybe she was sitting with the invisible person or climbing the apple tree as you swung below it. 
“We love you, a lot,” You looked over to the little bush that you had always felt was where they sat to talk with you. It felt different. 
Standing up from the swing, you slowly walked over, holding out a hand. Ever so gently, you touched a little leaf hanging from one of the skinny branches. If you listened close enough, you thought maybe you could hear the sound of tiny laughter.
You turned around, looking at the forest around you, listening as hard as you could. Then there was the sound of a twig snapping, which made you turn again to see the newcomer. 
“Jungkook. You startled me.”
“Sorry,” He smiled at you as he came closer, “I thought you might have been out here.”
You nodded, smiling at the swing. 
Part of you wanted to tell him what you had been doing, for years even, back when it started with the invisible person. Perhaps it might bring him some comfort as well. You weren’t sure why you felt a bit self-conscious though. Nevertheless, you didn’t say anything. 
“Did I interrupt something?” Jungkook asked, sensing that you were a little distracted. 
You shook your head with a laugh, “Not at all.”
Taking his hand, you turned to walk back with him as he excitedly told you about the meal he had prepared.
There was no special occasion, he informed you, it was just because he wanted to do something for you. You had done so many things for him since you were little without needing a reason, always saying you just wanted to. 
You laughed at his rambling as you walked, swinging your joined hands back and forth. Only once, you turned and looked over your shoulder at the swing that moved slightly in the breeze.
If you looked close enough, you thought you might see her. 
Long black hair flowing down her back as she swung back and forth. Tiny hands were gripping the rope tightly. There were pale yellow wings, like that of a bird, on her back. Her little legs kicked under the swing.
You couldn’t see her face, only a small glimpse of her very small nose when she looked to the side and laughed at something. There was a child’s voice whispering on the wind, but you couldn’t hear what they were saying. A moment later, you realized what it was.
“I’m okay, mommy.”
You blinked, and she was gone. 
-
“I wish you wouldn’t go.”
Jungkook bit his lip at your words, feeling terrible. 
“I’m sorry,” He whispered, “I promised her I’d accompany her to the Cho’s, she wants to be there by the end of the week at the earliest.”
You smiled, brushing it off, “I know, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you feel bad for wanting to help your mother. I just wish the Cho’s lived closer.”
“So do I.”
“It can’t be helped,” You laughed quietly, “Your mother is too talented for her own good, pretty soon people will insist she multiply herself and live in each of their towns to help.”
He laughed, “She would do it too, if she could.”
-
You walked with him to the village to bid her farewell. She was so kind, it always brightened your day to see her. 
“I’ll try not to keep him too long,” She promised with a wink. 
You laughed, “Oh, keep him as long as you like. Make him do all the work.” Jungkook shook his head with a smile as you and his mother tittered, as if sharing jokes he was no part of. 
“You better go,” You gave her one last hug, “I don’t want you two traveling at night.”
His mother kissed you on the forehead sweetly, “Always so thoughtful. I will see you later, my dear.”
“Be safe,” You smiled warmly at her before turning to Jungkook. He leaned down and kissed the tip of your nose, pulling back with a smile.
“Is that all I get?” You whispered teasingly as his mother pretended to be busy with counting the things she was bringing. 
He only smirked, giving you a little wink as he backed away, “See you soon, Apple.”
-
He was meant to be gone for nine days. 
It wasn’t a quick journey to the town a few over; three days each way. And he was going to help his mother get settled for her two months stay.
The first few days were a little lonely, but on the fourth day, Yoongi came to see you. It felt like forever since you had seen him.
You sat and talked for hours on end, wanting to know every little thing that he had been doing. He told you all about the research he was doing on agriculture, and how he finally understood your love for nature. He also told you about the girl he was courting, much to his embarrassment at admitting how strongly he felt for her. 
It was wonderful. You had been so close as kids, growing up always made people and things grow apart. You hated it. 
Yoongi didn’t ask you how you were feeling, which you appreciated. You knew he cared, but he also knew and respected that you didn’t want to talk about it. The way you kept pushing the conversation onto what he was up to, made it clear enough even if he didn’t already know you well. 
-
Jungkook was meant to be gone for nine days. 
Word came five days into his absence, from a young teen boy, that he was going to be away for another week at most. You thanked the boy as he turned and ran off, laughing to yourself as you pulled the water bucket up from the well in the outskirts of the village.
The stream where you usually collected your water was oddly sparse that week, so you thought you might as well come into the village and see Yoongi before getting some water to bring back home.
The next day, you came back to see him again, getting more water on the way. As you were leaving, wooden bucket sloshing around with water as you held it in both your arms, you stopped when you saw someone standing in front of you. 
“I thought it might be you!” 
“Jisoo?” Your eyes widened when you saw the girl you hadn’t spoken to in at least three years. She looked a bit older, more mature than when you last saw her. There was a child in her arms, just over a year old at most. 
Jisoo nodded, “I’ve seen you around a few times over the years, but wasn’t sure if you wanted to talk.”
You laughed, “Why shouldn’t I?”
She shrugged, the baby on her hip smiling at you. You smiled back, a horrible pain in your heart as you did. 
“You were always off with that strange boy, what’s his name-”
“Jungkook,” You said, a bit shortly, “His name is Jungkook. And he’s my husband.”
“Ah yes,” She looked a little embarrassed, “Jungkook. I must admit, I never could see what you saw in him until the other week. He really has changed.”
You didn’t like the smirk on her face as she said that. 
“No,” You adjusted the water in your arms to better hold it, then you looked her up and down, “Out of everyone in this village, it seems he’s the only one that hasn’t had to.”
Jisoo didn’t respond at first, only shifted uncomfortably as you stared at her. 
“Yes, well,” A nasty smile curved on her lips, “Tell him if he ever wants a girl that can keep a baby, he can come to me anytime he’d like.”
She laughed at your silence before walking around you and leaving.
If there wasn’t a child in her arms, you would’ve dumped the water you were holding all over her. Only heaven knows what you would’ve done after that.
Instead, you stood there, unable to say a word or move a muscle, even after she left. There was a slight tremble in your knees as you stared at the dirt where she once stood. You blinked a few times, swallowing the pain from your heart that almost came crawling out of your throat in a horrible scream. 
After a minute, you lifted your chin and kept walking.
-
You were strolling along the outskirts of the village, a few flowers in hand that you picked, small white ones. It was silent except for the rustle of leaves and the very quiet mumbling of you talking to the forest around you as you looked for more flowers. 
“Pretty,” You muttered as you picked up a yellow one that you hadn’t ever seen before. 
The sound of running and someone screaming broke you out of your trance and shattered the sacred silence. You turned to see a young girl around twelve hurrying up to you. 
“You’re miss ____, right?”
Blinking in confusion, you nodded. 
“Please help us,” She whimpered, and you finally noticed the tears on her face. 
“What’s the matter?” You asked, fully alarmed. 
“My cousin he’s- he’s fallen ill. No one knows what to do since the medicine lady is gone.”
Your stomach turned, “I- I don’t know medicine-”
“You married her son, didn’t you?”
You nodded again, throat dry. 
“She must have taught you something! Please, he’ll die-”
“Take me to him.”
Your voice sounded much stronger than you felt.
The girl grabbed your hand and you ran after her, all the way through the village and to a relatively large home, one almost twice the size as everyone else’s. You went in, following the girl to a room where you could hear crying.
The second you stepped in, your heart stopped. 
Jisoo was there, weeping. There was another woman, her mother, pacing the room. Lying on the floor on a few cushions, was a small boy, only three years of age. He was sweating, little whimpers leaving his mouth. 
You snapped out of your shock and immediately jumped into action, “Get out,” You shoved Jisoo’s mother out of the room, gesturing for Jisoo to do the same. 
“I’m not leaving, why are you here anyway?!” She shrieked. 
You turned towards her and hissed quietly, “If you don’t want to leave your other child motherless, get out.”
The girl that had come to fetch you took the shocked young woman’s arm and led her out, explaining to her that you were there to help. That you knew the medicine lady and could help.
You shut your eyes, taking a deep breath. 
Pull yourself together. 
When you opened your eyes, your mind was no longer clouded with panic. You were not educated in medicine, but your mother-in-law did show you a few things over the years you’d known her that might be of some help.
You called out a few orders to the people outside of the room, telling them to hurry as fast as they could. Then you turned and went to the small child. He was looking at you, his eyes showing the terror he felt. 
“You don’t have to be afraid,” You whispered, offering him a gentle smile as you knelt on the floor next to where he lay. He didn’t resist when you placed a hand on his forehead, then carefully ran your fingers across it, brushing the damp hairs away. 
“You’re going to be alright, I promise,” You kept running your fingers along his cheeks, the action seeming to calm him, “I’m not going to leave you.”
He looked just like his mother.
Jisoo always had the prettiest eye shape, and he definitely inherited it.
There were frantic voices on the other side of the door, but you ignored them. 
-
For hours you stayed in the room with the boy, cooling his skin with wet rags and feeding him the remedies that you could remember how to make. The people outside did everything you asked and would leave things at the door for you to grab and bring back inside with you.
When day turned into night, you still sat there with him, replacing the cold cloths on his skin with fresh ones. He eventually fell asleep. 
You sighed with relief, knowing the worst had passed. If he could sleep, he was going to be fine. 
-
You woke up on the floor of the room, blinking at the sun coming in through the window. Only a few feet away, the child still slept soundly.
Reaching out a hand, you felt his forehead, then mumbled a prayer of thanks to the invisible person you knew was there. They must have listened to your earnest requests the night before; his skin was cool to the touch, and he was breathing normally.
You stood up, groaning quietly at the soreness of your muscles from your sleeping position. 
When you walked out and saw Jisoo sitting on a stump just outside the door, you approached her, “He’s going to be fine.”
She flinched at the sound of your voice, then turned and saw you standing there. It was silent for a minute, then she stood up and faced you, “If you think I’m going to thank you, then you’re just as crazy as they always said you were.”
You weren’t sure what you were expecting, but that certainly wasn’t it. 
“How dare you barge into my home and order me around?” Jisoo stepped closer, “Of course he’s going to be fine. He was just feeling a little off, you did nothing, you are not a hero.”
You stared at her for another minute. 
“Ok, Jisoo,” You finally whispered, moving to get around her. She grabbed your arm though, before you could leave, “Don’t ever step foot into my home again. We don’t want your curse spread to us, infertile witch.”
Shoving your arm away as if she would catch something from being around you too long, she walked back inside.
All you could do for a moment was bite your lip harshly and stare at a stick on the ground. You knew, deep down inside, that even if you had known that would be her response, you still would’ve done the same thing; that child didn’t deserve to be in pain. 
You walked all the way back to the shed, for the first time saying nothing to the trees and flowers that you passed on the way. 
Maybe they missed your voice. 
Maybe they cried for you. 
-
You woke up the next day feeling strange.
The night before, you had felt a little hot and didn’t pull the covers over your body like you always did. In fact, you had chosen to strip yourself of all your clothes in the middle of the night while half asleep, which would explain the confused state you were in upon waking up completely naked. 
Your head was aching and the sun was too bright.
Why ever was the sun that bright anyway?
You didn’t realize that you had slept well into the afternoon after unknowingly tossing and turning for hours in the night. 
Standing up from the bed after pulling on a simple dress, the room spun for a moment before righting itself. You were going to get some fruit from the basket, but decided against it when the thought made your stomach turn.
You drank water instead, then climbed back into the bed and removed your obnoxious clothing again, but this time pulled the covers up to your chin and promptly fell asleep. 
-
Yoongi knocked on the door of the shed again, waiting with furrowed brows. You hadn’t come into the village since the day before last and he was worried. The stream was still too dry to gather water and he had been expecting you to be going back for more at the well and visiting him while you were at it.
You said you would.
He had heard about what happened with Jisoo and wanted to let you know that her son was feeling much better. 
When the third time he knocked was still unanswered, he opened the door and walked into the small but comfortable living space. His eyes were instantly drawn to the bed, where there was a little lump in the covers. 
“____?” He walked over and shook your shoulder gently, “Wake up, you daft girl. It’s mid-day already!”
When you didn’t respond, his frown deepened and he shook you harder, letting out a small gasp when you turned over and he saw how clammy your skin was. 
“____, wake up!”
Finally, you peeled your eyes open, they looked glassy and unfocused. 
“Hm?”
Your cousin turned your body more to get a better look at your face, noticing briefly that you were unclothed under the covers, “____, what’s happened? Why are you like this? Are you ill?”
Your brows creased as you looked at him in confusion, “Wha-...Yoongi, is that you?”
His stomach dropped at the state you were in.
Something was terribly wrong. 
“I’m going to go get someone,” Yoongi spoke slowly and clearly, “I need you to do your best in waking up, alright?”
You didn’t really acknowledge him, only mumbled something incoherent, but he didn’t have time to figure it out. He rushed out of the shack and through the woods, unsure who he was going to get but knowing he needed help. 
-
The next few days were horrific. 
There were two other people in the shack alongside Yoongi that did more than they ever cared to when you were young.
They tried their best to feed you, to cool the burning heat of your skin, to keep you from thrashing about and hurting yourself when you were racked with suffering.
You didn’t understand what was happening. You didn’t recognize anyone there, not even your own cousin. All you knew was that you were in pain and scared. 
Sometimes you saw your mother, standing over your bed and shaking her head at you in disappointment. She kept calling you the sick one, the sick one.
Sometimes you saw a man that you thought was your father. He did nothing but stare at you emotionlessly, standing in the corner of the room. 
Most of the time you saw the strange people with cloths over their mouths. They would put painfully cold things on your head and try to pry your mouth open to shove things inside. You fought them the best you could, but you grew weaker by the hour and couldn’t fend them off for long.
The nights were the worst at first; the pain reaching levels you had never experienced, ripping broken screams from your throat. Soon, the nights blended into the days, the agony never ceasing. 
You didn’t know why two of the strange people left one day and never came back.
You didn’t hear Yoongi urging them to leave after seeing the rash spreading on your skin, telling them to stay away from the others until they knew they hadn’t caught it, lest the entire village be consumed by typhoid. 
_______________________________
Yoongi sat outside of the shack, staring at the lone flower that was growing a few feet in front of the door. Inside, you were screaming. 
The only thing he could catch from what you were sobbing was Jungkook’s name. 
Apparently you remembered him. 
You had been sick for nine days, only growing worse each day.
Taehyung ran up, breathing heavily as he stopped in front of his older friend. 
“Jungkook is on the way home, but he doesn’t know.”
“You know this, how?” Yoongi mumbled. 
Everyone he had sent out over the past week said they couldn’t find him.
“Someone said they passed him on the road two days ago, he wasn’t in a hurry. He doesn’t know-”
The sound of agonized screaming reached his ears, his eyes widening in horror. He almost ran in, but Yoongi stopped him. 
“Don’t.”
“But-”
“There’s nothing we can do now,” Yoongi whispered, grief clear in his eyes, “You cannot risk going in there and catching it. You shouldn’t even be here.”
Taehyung took a faltering step back, shaking as his hands came up to cover his ears at the next round of dreadful sobbing. 
“Taehyung, look at me.”
His eyes darted to the older boy. 
“You need to get Jungkook, before it’s too late.”
He hated that he understood what was meant by that. 
He hated that he understood no one could save you. 
Stumbling away, Tae turned and ran, disappearing into the forest.
Yoongi gulped and turned to look at the door, knowing what would meet him when he went back in. Miraculously, he had not caught anything yet.
That did not lessen his fear of entering.
Catching it was not what he feared. 
Stepping back into the door, Yoongi’s gaze fell on you instantly.
You were crying quietly, dressed in nothing but a thin nightgown, too weak to rip it off of your otherwise naked body. There was no recognition in your eyes when they landed on him. 
“Please,” You whispered hoarsely, throat torn to shreds from the only way you were able to manage the torment you were in, “I need him.”
“I know.”
“Why hasn’t he come for me?”
It was the most you had said in over a week, your exhausted gaze drifting around the room, as if searching once more. 
“Why did he leave me?” 
Yoongi saw the endless stream of tears on your cheeks, his heart breaking.
Your chest shook with each little breath you took, not enough to keep your lungs full.
“I’m scared.”
You didn’t know who this was in front of you, but there was no one else to talk to. 
“I’m so sorry, ____.”
You blinked, a few more tears falling. Your body had been trembling for days, you couldn’t control it. Yoongi noticed that you no longer tried to, you just laid there, shivering. 
“He said,” You swallowed, voice shaky, “He’d never leave me.”
“Jungkook is coming, ____. I promise. Just hold on a little longer.”
At his words, he saw a tiny smile on your chapped lips. The indescribable pain you were in was clear, but there was a tiny light in your eyes when you heard his name. 
“He’ll come and hold me?” You whispered, eyes locked on the stranger standing next to your bed. 
“Yes,” Yoongi choked out, “He will come and hold you until you fall asleep.”
“Oh,” Your eyes shifted, a small smile still on your face as you looked at the dead roses in the vase behind the stranger, “Okay.”
After a few minutes of silence apart from the ragged breaths that escaped you, Yoongi went and sat in a chair at the little table, his head falling into his hands. 
“It hurts a bit,” You mumbled, staring at a tiny crack in the ceiling. 
He swallowed, knowing that it hurt a lot more than that. 
-
Taehyung ran until he couldn’t breathe, yet he didn’t stop.
He kept running.
Jungkook couldn’t be too far away, he couldn’t be.
It wasn’t too late.
-
Yoongi stood up and walked to the bed, a horrible pit in his stomach at how silent you had been the past few minutes.
When he got closer, he saw your chest rising and falling slightly. He let out the breath he had been holding, fingers digging into his eyes as he rubbed them.
You weren’t gone yet. 
The smallest groan slipped from your lips. He watched you closely for another minute, then he heard the sound of running from outside.
Turning, he hurried out of the shack, but saw no one. He decided to go down the path a little way to see if he could see them approaching. 
“Taehyung?” He called out, “Jungkook!”
But there was no answer.
-
“Jungkook!!”
Jungkook flinched in surprise when he saw Taehyung running towards him, screaming.
He smiled and waved, adjusting the sack on his shoulder that he had been carrying for a while. Maybe he could get Tae to carry it back for him.
But he was only a few minutes from the village, why was he meeting him here?
Taehyung stumbled, falling into the younger, who caught him. 
“What’s gotten into-”
“It’s ____!” Tae choked out, coughing violently from not being able to breathe. 
“What?” Jungkook’s heart stopped in his chest. 
“She’s- she’s sick-”
Taehyung couldn’t even finish his sentence before Jungkook took off running, the things he previously carried lying in a heap on the ground.
-
Jungkook raced all the way to the village and through it, ignoring the silent stares as he passed.
His heart was in his throat, terror filling him as he ran as fast as he could. 
The village was quiet that day. 
The people watched as they always did. 
But the village was quiet that day. 
-
You opened your eyes slowly; the stranger wasn’t there. 
They had left you. 
Your bottom lip quivered before you bit it, the excruciating pain in your abdomen silencing your cries; it hurt too bad to scream.
A shaky breath went into your lungs, trickling back out seconds later.
He didn’t come back. 
You blinked, a tear rolling down your cheek. 
You were all alone. 
“Apple. You love me, right?”
His voice echoed in your muddled brain as you stared at the wilted roses across the room. 
“Yes,” You whispered weakly, the room turning cold, his presence that you thought was there fading away.
Please don’t leave. I’m scared to be alone.
Fear slowly started to consume you as your eyes drifted around the dark empty place you called home. 
Then they closed gently. 
________________________________________
When your eyes opened again, there was someone standing there. 
You sat up, confused when it didn’t hurt.
It didn’t hurt anymore.
Nothing hurt, at all. 
There was an overwhelming sense of calm around you. All of the worries that plagued your mind were gone. You couldn’t remember a single thing that once caused your heart to be so heavy with grief. 
Your eyes lifted back to the person standing in the middle of the room. It was a small girl, only five years of age; long black hair falling past her shoulders and doe eyes watching you.
There were feathery yellow wings on her tiny back, and a bunny-like smile on her cute face. 
She looked just like somebody you once knew. 
You couldn’t remember who it was though. 
The girl stretched her hand out towards you and you finally noticed there was another figure there as well, standing next to her.
You couldn’t see their face, only a bright glow shaped like a tall human. The two of them felt familiar somehow, like they had been waiting for you for a long time.
“Come on,” The little girl laughed, “You’re okay now.”
You moved your legs to the side of the bed and climbed out.
There was no hesitation as you walked forward and took her tiny hand, the smile on her face growing even more when you did.
___________________________________
Jungkook rushed through the forest, thin branches scratching his face and arms.
But he didn’t stop.
When he could see home, he pushed himself harder, fear gripping his heart when he saw Yoongi standing just outside of the door, staring at nothing. He pushed past the silent man and stumbled inside, freezing up at the sight that met him. 
You were lying in the bed, seemingly asleep, but with face and lips drained of color. The dark lashes resting on your cheeks were a stark contrast.
He stood there, staring at your figure.
“Apple?” His voice sounded far away, not like his own. 
Jungkook walked forward, bending down and cupping your cheek with his hand.  
“Wake up, Apple,” He whispered, brushing the hair from your face and shaking you gently, “I’m bah-...I’m back.”
When you didn’t respond, he shook you a little harder, his whole body beginning to tremble, “Please,” His voice broke, “Please wake up…I-”
A quiet sob cut him off as his shaking hands cupped your cooling cheeks once more, “Don’t leave me, please don’t leave me-”
He carefully lifted your frail body, pulling you into his lap and cradling you in his arms.
Yoongi stepped inside the door.
Taehyung came in right behind him, his eyes closing slowly when he saw Jungkook sitting on the bed and holding you against him in a tight embrace.
“Apple, I’m sorry, pleas-” He whimpered as he held the back of your head with gentle hands, rocking you back and forth, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”
He wasn’t there.
He wasn’t there to hold you.
You were cold and alone. 
A sob tore itself from his throat as he held you tighter, praying that you could feel his warmth and hear him begging for you to come back.
You weren’t supposed to go without him.
“Jungkook.”
“Please don’t leave me alone,” He pleaded hoarsely. 
Maybe, if he begged hard enough, you would listen to him and come back. 
“Jungkook.”
“Please, I’m sorry. I’m sorry I broke my promise, Apple. I won’t leave you anymore,” Jungkook coughed, choking on his tears, “I won’t leave you ever again, ever.”
Yoongi gulped, unsure what to do. The guilt was eating him alive; he had stepped out only for a minute. Because of him, you died alone.
“I promise we can climb the apple tree whenever you want, you can eat all of the fruit before dinner, I won’t ever say no,” Tears ran down his face as he caressed your hair, just the way you always liked, “I won’t tell you that you should wait until after dinner, I promise. I promise.”
Taehyung put his face in his hands, his stomach turning. It didn’t feel real, you couldn’t be gone. 
“You were faster than me.”
Tae looked up to see Jungkook was cradling you like a child, thumb brushing your cheek as he spoke softly, his eyes running over your face. 
“You beat me to the swing, fair and square.”
Yoongi sucked in a breath and bit his lip. 
Memories of that day floated through his mind; the way you shrieked with laughter as you climbed onto the swing, too small to get on easily. 
“Push me! Push me!”
He could hear your tiny giggles clear as day. 
Jungkook rested his forehead against yours, his breath warming your lips as his hot tears fell onto cold cheeks, “I love you,” he spoke under his breath, for only you to hear, “I loved you since the first moment I saw you. I can't live without you.”
Maybe, if he said it enough times, you would listen to him and come back. 
“Jungkook,” Yoongi choked out, “We need to move her.”
There was no reply.
Taehyung swallowed the heavy lump in his throat, “Yoongi-”
“It’s still contagious,” The older boy whispered, “We can’t let him be with her for too long.”
“But-”
Yoongi turned on him, anger and sorrow lit up in his eyes, “Get him out of here.”
Taehyung clenched his jaw, then walked around him, over to where Jungkook was still whispering to you. 
“Jungkook,” He took a shuddering breath, “I’m sorry.”
It was like he couldn’t hear a word the older boy was saying, tears falling endlessly as he held you close, continuing to sway you just a little.
Taehyung moved down to remove one of Jungkook’s hands from you, but the younger’s grip tightened. 
“Jungkook-” Tae strengthened his own efforts, finally prying his hands from you and trying to pull him up. 
“Let go of me!” Jungkook screamed, ripping his arm away and moving to hold you again. He kept you in his lap, arms around you protectively, refusing to let either of them close. 
Yoongi stepped in, “Jungkook, you need to let go-”
“No!”
“Let her go,” Yoongi’s voice cracked as he struggled with pulling you out of his arms while Taehyung grabbed Jungkook. 
“Stop it!” Jungkook was bawling his eyes out frantically as he reached for you, “Don’t take her! Please!! Yoongi, Yoongi, please!!” 
Taehyung wrapped his arms around Jungkook’s chest, not letting him get a chance to fight your cousin, who was gently laying your body on the bed again and covering you with the sheet. 
“Please!!!” Jungkook was screaming at the top of his lungs, heart crushed far beyond repair, “Please don’t take her!!”
“Get him out!” 
Taehyung dragged Jungkook kicking and screaming from the shack.
In the tussle, they knocked into the small table, the vase teetering for a moment before falling to the floor, a long crack running through it as the dead roses lay scattered about. 
“I hate you! I hate you!”
He didn’t know who he was screaming at. 
But maybe, if he screamed loud enough, you would hear him.
Maybe, you would come back. 
_____________________________
It was the year 1523 when you left him.
You were nineteen years old.
Jungkook sat curled up in the corner of the shack, legs tucked up to his chest as he stared at the broken vase on the floor. It had been three days since you passed, he hadn’t slept. All he had done was sit in the corner and stare at nothing.
He shut them all out.
They had taken you away from him. 
He never saw you again. 
Except in his mind. 
His days and nights were haunted by the last time he had spoken with you. 
“Is that all I get?” 
Your voice echoed in his mind, the smile on your face burned into his bruised and bleeding heart. He didn’t kiss you, he didn’t tell you he loved you.
All he did was leave.
Jungkook closed his eyes and leaned his head against the wall, a tear sliding down his cheek and dripping from his chin. 
-
He would be found only hours later, still curled up in the corner.
It was a broken heart, they said.
It took three agonizing days after your death for him to follow.
For a human heart can only take so much pain, before it can’t. 
__________________________________
“How utterly wretched.”
Jungkook opened his eyes to see a tall figure standing over him as he sat in the corner of the dark shed.
The only thing he felt while looking at the demon who was staring at him with mock pity, was an empty hatred.
He whispered hoarsely, “You said she would live.”
Lucifer leaned down, a sneer on his face, “I only said I would get rid of her disease. Typhoid fever is a nasty business, isn’t it? Strange that she was the only one in the village to catch it after miraculously helping the boy. A real tragedy.”
Jungkook just stared at him. 
“A life for a life, that’s what you told me,” He finally spat, the anger beginning to spread through his body. 
“Ah yes,” The Devil chuckled and rocked back on his heels, as if the whole ordeal was quite amusing to him, “See, we didn’t agree on a third life though. I was far too nice to let you get off so easily with conceiving the infant.”
Jungkook gulped. 
“Oh,” The miserable creature’s face fell and he pouted, “That one didn’t make it either, did it?”
“She,” Jungkook hissed, “Her name is Aera-”
“Well, it was going to be,” Lucifer threw his head back and laughed, “Rest assured I had nothing to do with that unfortunate incident.”
It was silent for a moment, then Jungkook spoke up quietly, “You were never going to save her, were you?” His eyes were locked on the dead roses, “You lied.”
“And you,” Lucifer crouched and leaned close, “Fell for it.”
Jungkook’s eyes closed as he did his best to conjure up an image of you.
You were somewhere safe and warm, where the sun kissed your cheeks and danced upon your fingers.
Somewhere the apples were sweet and crisp, where the water was never too cold.
There was a sharp pain on the skin of his outer right bicep, making him grit his teeth as the demon laughed darkly.
“Look at how ruined you are,” The voice whispered with shameless glee, “All because of love.”
You were somewhere you could fly with the clouds, never alone.
Somewhere the roses would always bloom. 
“Don’t bother.”
Jungkook opened his eyes and looked at the demon. 
“She isn’t anywhere pleasant.”
His heart shattered into a million little pieces. 
“She’s somewhere cold,” Lucifer stared at him, “Stuck alone in the dark, full of unbearable torment, just like her last moments..”
Jungkook’s breath caught in his throat. 
“All because you left her. All because of Him.”
The young man’s eyes were filled with tears of anguish that slowly ebbed into a deep resentment with each word the Devil spoke. 
“He did this to you, you know that right?” Lucifer smirked, “You were created by Him. He made you, so that you could suffer.”
The despair clung to his heart like a lead weight, another burning scratch going across his skin, right where the pounding muscle lay.
“He created you to love her and lose her. Tell me; was it worth it, Jungkook?”
The torment wouldn’t come to an end. 
The deal was struck and the punishment would never lessen.
Even without understanding why, the agonizing torture of his heart ripping itself to shreds over and over again, would never ever stop. 
For a human heart can only take so much pain, before it can’t.
But the heart of a demon can never die.
________________________________________
a/n: tysm for reading, your thoughts are always welcome
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usafphantom2 · 7 months
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SR-71 pilot recalls that time his Blackbird flew so fast that he and his RSO landed at Kadena AB two hours before they took off from Beale AFB beating the sun
‘We took off from Beale at 11:00 AM and arrived at Kadena at 9:00AM, two hours before we took off from Beale, we beat the Sun!’ Buddy Brown, SR-71 Blackbird pilot.
The SR-71, unofficially known as the “Blackbird,” is a long-range, advanced, strategic reconnaissance aircraft developed from the Lockheed A-12 and YF-12A aircraft.
The first flight of an SR-71 took place on Dec. 22, 1964, and the first SR-71 to enter service was delivered to the 4200th(later 9th) Strategic Reconnaissance Wing at Beale Air Force Base, Calif., in January 1966.
On Mar. 8 1968 Lieutenant Colonel Buddy Brown and RSO Major Dave Jensen flew the very first SR-71 Blackbird (#978) out of the US to Kadena Air Base, Japan also known as the OL (operation allocation).
Buddy came from the U-2 program* to the SR-71 and he had many risky adventures. He was picked for this honor because he was the chief of Standardization during this time.
Buddy and Dave experienced quite a few problems with the SR-71 since the airplane was not used to the weather in the tropics. The following story is an excerpt taken from Buddy Brown memoirs.
The story of the first SR-71 crew to deploy a Blackbird in Japan that landed at Kadena two hours before the take off from Beale beating the sun
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Buddy Brown and Dave Jensen in front of an SR-71 Blackbird Mach 3 spy plane
‘The first leg of the first flight of the SR-71 across the Pacific was to Hawaii. And then on to Kadena it took five hours. When I flew the U-2 on this same flight it took five days (that included resting). Speed is good! On the third leg of the flight we encountered another small problem, my left generator went off-line and I couldn’t reset it. This was a NO-GO situation which means I should land as soon as practical… My decision was to continue on because we were only 1000 miles (less than 30minutes) from Kadena. At this time on the high frequency radio using our coded callsign I contacted mama [Kadena’s Command post] and informed them “I was lost, but was making good time” [because despite the problem, Buddy’s SR-71was flying REALLY fast].
‘We landed at Kadena with no further problems.
‘We took off from Beale at 11:00 AM and arrived at Kadena at 9:00AM, two hours before we took off from Beale, we beat the Sun!*
‘For the first few weeks we would be using the hangars next to the CIA hangars that’s where the A-12’s were. A couple of the CIA pilots briefed us on the missions they were flying, what to expect when flying some of our missions. They were very helpful. Kadena was one of the major US strongholds of the far east. Since I had flown the U-2 a few years before out of Kadena I was very familiar with the Far East.
‘Dave and I had over a week to target study the route of flight and survival techniques in case we were shot down, refueling emergency recovery HF procedures. Dave and I were planning to fly the first mission operational.
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SR-71 print
This print is available in multiple sizes from AircraftProfilePrints.com – CLICK HERE TO GET YOURS. SR-71A Blackbird 61-7972 “Skunkworks”
‘My back up crew was Jerry O’Malley and Ed Payne, they were briefed on the mission also.
‘The following day March 21, 1968 the routine was normal during our taxi out at the end of the runway for the engine run up and trim [but] the ANS system froze on us. This of course was a NO-GO situation which caused us to abort the mission.
‘Our backup crew, O’Malley and Payne, flew the first operational Sortie in aircraft # 976.’**
*Former SR-71 pilot David Peters recalls: “It always fascinated me to see the Sun in the periscope go down and disappear in the East as we outran it. And then to catch up to it and see it come up in the West.”
**Noteworthy Buddy Brown could have been shot down over Cuba since he was major Rudolph Anderson’s backup. If there would’ve been a technical problem with Anderson’s U-2, it would’ve been Brown that was killed over Cuba. And because of a technical difficulty, it was not Buddy who became first to fly an operational mission in the SR-71.
Be sure to check out Linda Sheffield Miller (Col Richard (Butch) Sheffield’s daughter, Col. Sheffield was an SR-71 Reconnaissance Systems Officer) Twitter Page Habubrats SR-71 and Facebook Page Born into the Wilde Blue Yonder for awesome Blackbird’s photos and stories.
@Habubrats71 via X
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aprocessionofthoughts · 6 months
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With no end in sight
ectoberhaunt2023 day 5- hunt TW- violence, death of random characters, blood, death of major character, slight gore summary- Danny is tired of having to be the one to hold back
ao3 masterlist
They had been trying to find the facility for nearly three weeks when they finally found it.
The GIW base was well fortified, but Danny was angry and desperate.
He tore through the halls, freezing agents where they stood. Sam, Tuck, and Val followed behind to take care of any agents he missed and to make sure the ones he froze stayed down.
He tore through containment cells, ripping doors and locks open. He ignored the ghosts who were rushing to escape now that he’d freed them.
Finally, he flew into a room and there she was.
Spread out on an operating table with her insides exposed.
Danny let go of his flight and stumbled the rest of the way to her. 
No.
No no no no no no no!
She couldn’t be…
She had to be…
But he couldn’t feel any energy coming from her, her core wasn’t thrumming. 
“You’re too late.” a scientist Danny hadn’t previously noticed, said grinning. He’d been hiding behind a lab table but now stepped forward. “You’re too late. We already rid the world of that abomination. And soon I’ll have you up there as well and–”
The scientist cut off as Danny fired an ectoblast through his neck.
He turned back towards Danielle, his clone, his sister, and gently picked her up. He could feel that her ectoplasm was already losing shape, her core dissolving like mist.
Danny fell to his knees as his friends ran in. They gasped when they saw him. When they saw her.
Then Val stumbled back. “What did you do?” She was looking at the body of the scientist. He saw Sam and Tuck tense as they noticed as well.
“He killed her.” Danny growled, attention focused on his beloved sister.
“But–” Val started but Sam elbowed her in the stomach. Val scowled but then her expression turned to grief as she turned back towards Danielle.
They left, but were only a few miles away before Danielle dissolved.
Danny wailed, leveling half a forest.
****
Alarms blared as the agents from Facility 12A dashed around trying to lock everything down and evacuate.
“Hurry up, hurry up, hurry up! Everyone get a move on!” Agent X said.
Another alarm started to blare and everyone started scrambling even faster.
“Enemy approaching! Everyone get to the lockdown room!” Agent X began to run as well when there was the sound of an explosion and the facility shook. People fell to the ground and there was chaos as people kept trying to flee and trampled over fallen agents and scientists. Everyone was screaming.
Agent X had just made it back to his feet when the ghost appeared at the other end of the hall.
Everyone started scrambling back in the other direction, screaming. Agent X had started to turn around as well when the ghost grabbed him.
“Not so fast.” it said, speech garbled and staticky it hurt to listen to. The creature's claws dug into Agent X’s throat and he choked as he scrambled at the hand holding him up. The pressure increased, Agent X tried to scream, but then he was dead, spinal cord crushed.
****
The ghost tore through the facility, freeing all the ghosts and killing every last human there.
He stood amidst the rubble, his hair flaring like fire and its skin tinged green. The ghost had pointed ears and his eyes were green rimmed with red.
In the distance he heard a vehicle approaching. His lip curled. They were going to try and stop him. 
He couldn’t let that happen. He’d return to his friends after he was done. Beg their understanding.
But first he had to keep going.
He had more facilities to hunt down and destroy.
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reasoningdaily · 1 month
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Gannonknight: Black History Month: A month-long observance of Black greatness
The month of February is known as Black History Month in the US. During this month, the nation observes the remarkable history of the extraordinary Black men and women who contributed to the development of the nation as we know it today.
The month of February is a time for Black Americans and others to celebrate and recognize the achievements of their ancestors and to give a spotlight to the many prominent Black figures who were pioneers in numerous industries that are not normally celebrated otherwise.
Every year Black History Month is assigned a theme. This year (2024) the theme is “African Americans and the Arts” according to The Oklahoman. Previous themes have been, Black Resistance (2023), Black Health and Wellness (2022), The Black Family, (2021), African Americans and the Vote (2020), and Black Migrations (2019) to name a few.
Today, we have the privilege to celebrate Black History for the entire month of February, but when the celebration first started it was only one week. In 1924 Harvard-trained, American historian and author, Carter G. Woodson, later nicknamed “the father of Black history” wanted to designate a specific time to research and educate the community about the achievements and accomplishments of Black Americans, according to NPR.
Woodson believed young Black Americans were not adequately taught about their heritage in this country and believed that Black history was something that should be studied and taught more extensively in the average school curriculum.
With the goal of education in mind, Woodson would partner with his fraternity Omega Psi Phi, to create the Association for the Study of Negro Life and History (ASNLH), according to History.com. The ASNLH, now known as the Association for the Study of African American Life and History (ASALH), would promote “Negro History Week” to be observed the second week of February within public schools and some other educational organizations.
As word spread and racial tension in the country pressed on, many more schools and education groups would adopt the concept of Negro History Week. Around the 1940s the incentive to extent Negro History Week was already brewing.
It was not until 1976 when the ASALH would openly start to advertise Black History Month, which would be observed institutionally during the entire month of February. The month was first recognized by the government that same year by President Gerald Ford who encouraged the public to acknowledge the achievements of their Black counterparts and to properly accredit the accomplishments of the Black Americans.
So, why the month of February? This month was not picked at random. Woodson chose the month of February as the month to observe Black history for two reasons. First, the birthday of the 16th President of the United States, Abraham Lincoln, is on February 12. This is significant because during Lincoln’s presidency he issued the Emancipation Proclamation, which declared that “all free persons held as slaves” in the rebellious south “are, and henceforth shall be free,” according to National Archives. Second, Black History Month is held in February because, African American abolitionist, author, and orator, Frederick Douglas marked February 14 as his birthday.
Both Douglas and Lincoln were central figures in Black history, and they have been celebrated for their efforts and contributions to Black history and civil rights in the US. For these reasons Woodson believed that February was the appropriate month to observe this history.
Today, Black History Month is one of the nation’s oldest organized celebrations of history. Other countries around the world including the United Kingdom and Canada have established their own forms of Black History Month, also observed in February.
Many historians and observers believe that Black history is not something that should only be celebrated in February, and even Woodson agreed. The impact of Black Americans over the course of the history of the United States and the rest of the world is felt regularly. Being aware of the amazing triumphs that specifically Black Americans have made in areas such as music, business, literature, technology, fashion, language, and the arts is something that the world should celebrate all-year-round.
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newtabfics · 8 months
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Im just doing a quick analysis for something I've got coming your way to figure out what the best active time frame is for my audience!
also why is the only option for this poll 1 day or 1 week? why not 2 day?
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gojira007 · 5 months
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For the Emoji challenge! Kris Dreemurr- 5C, Susie- 12A. Noelle- 11B, Ralsei- 7D, Toriel- 7B, Asgore- 5B, Sally Acorn- 4C, Dr. Robotnik- 10C, Rotor- 4B, Rouge- 9B, Antoine- 10A, Lupe- 7A.
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Wanna send me some more Emoji Challenge requests? I'm plenty game! You can even take your pick of which challenge to use!
Character Quotes under the cut!
Kris: ...well, you thought it was funny, at least.
Susie: "...wha? No, I uh...I don't know what happened. Noelle walked up to me, then she put her lips on my cheek, and I just...I think I blanked out a little bit...?"
Noelle: "Berdly, I just worked up the courage to kiss Susie on the cheek, you are not going to ruin this for me!"
Ralsei: "I don't know what it is about this Berdly, but the longer I have to talk with them, the angrier I get!"
Toriel: "...surely it's no harm if I take just one snail for myself before I make the pie...."
Asgore: "Oh now really, Asriel, I know you want a little attention, but that's no reason to call my flowers mean names!"
Sally: "...I...I'm sorry, I just. Haven't been sleeping well ever since Sonic...ever since the Quantum Dial was destroyed...."
Robotnik: "Some days, even the thrill of Hating That Hedgehog just can't cut through the drudgery of a long day's work."
Rotor: "S-sorry, I don't fluster easily, just...I don't think a guy's ever called me 'cute' before."
Rouge: "I realize we're on a mission right now, Topaz, but surely it's not too unprofessional to note just how exquisitely you fill out that spy-suit."
Antoine: "Nooooooo no no no, of course I don't mind Sonic getting this mission instead of me. After I openly petitioned for it. For three weeks."
Lupe: "Given our history, you will forgive me if I find this supposed offer of Peace...unconvincing."
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12th March >> Mass Readings (USA)
Tuesday, Fourth Week of Lent - Proper Readings 
(see also The Man Born Blind on previous Sunday)
(Liturgical Colour: Violet: B (2))
First Reading Ezekiel 47:1-9, 12 I saw water flowing from the temple, and all who were touched by it were saved.
The angel brought me, Ezekiel, back to the entrance of the temple of the LORD, and I saw water flowing out from beneath the threshold of the temple toward the east, for the façade of the temple was toward the east; the water flowed down from the right side of the temple, south of the altar. He led me outside by the north gate, and around to the outer gate facing the east, where I saw water trickling from the right side. Then when he had walked off to the east with a measuring cord in his hand, he measured off a thousand cubits and had me wade through the water, which was ankle-deep. He measured off another thousand and once more had me wade through the water, which was now knee-deep. Again he measured off a thousand and had me wade; the water was up to my waist. Once more he measured off a thousand, but there was now a river through which I could not wade; for the water had risen so high it had become a river that could not be crossed except by swimming. He asked me, “Have you seen this, son of man?” Then he brought me to the bank of the river, where he had me sit. Along the bank of the river I saw very many trees on both sides. He said to me, “This water flows into the eastern district down upon the Arabah, and empties into the sea, the salt waters, which it makes fresh. Wherever the river flows, every sort of living creature that can multiply shall live, and there shall be abundant fish, for wherever this water comes the sea shall be made fresh. Along both banks of the river, fruit trees of every kind shall grow; their leaves shall not fade, nor their fruit fail. Every month they shall bear fresh fruit, for they shall be watered by the flow from the sanctuary. Their fruit shall serve for food, and their leaves for medicine.”
The Word of the Lord
R/ Thanks be to God.
Responsorial Psalm Psalm 46:2-3, 5-6, 8-9
R/ The Lord of hosts is with us; our stronghold is the God of Jacob.
God is our refuge and our strength, an ever-present help in distress. Therefore we fear not, though the earth be shaken and mountains plunge into the depths of the sea.
R/ The Lord of hosts is with us; our stronghold is the God of Jacob.
There is a stream whose runlets gladden the city of God, the holy dwelling of the Most High. God is in its midst; it shall not be disturbed; God will help it at the break of dawn.
R/ The Lord of hosts is with us; our stronghold is the God of Jacob.
The LORD of hosts is with us; our stronghold is the God of Jacob. Come! behold the deeds of the LORD, the astounding things he has wrought on earth.
R/ The Lord of hosts is with us; our stronghold is the God of Jacob.
Gospel Acclamation Psalm 51:12a, 14a
A clean heart create for me, O God; give me back the joy of your salvation.
Gospel John 5:1-16 Immediately the man became well.
There was a feast of the Jews, and Jesus went up to Jerusalem. Now there is in Jerusalem at the Sheep Gate a pool called in Hebrew Bethesda, with five porticoes. In these lay a large number of ill, blind, lame, and crippled. One man was there who had been ill for thirty-eight years. When Jesus saw him lying there and knew that he had been ill for a long time, he said to him, “Do you want to be well?” The sick man answered him, “Sir, I have no one to put me into the pool when the water is stirred up; while I am on my way, someone else gets down there before me.” Jesus said to him, “Rise, take up your mat, and walk.” Immediately the man became well, took up his mat, and walked.
Now that day was a sabbath. So the Jews said to the man who was cured, “It is the sabbath, and it is not lawful for you to carry your mat.” He answered them, “The man who made me well told me, ‘Take up your mat and walk.’“ They asked him, “Who is the man who told you, ‘Take it up and walk’?” The man who was healed did not know who it was, for Jesus had slipped away, since there was a crowd there. After this Jesus found him in the temple area and said to him, “Look, you are well; do not sin any more, so that nothing worse may happen to you.” The man went and told the Jews that Jesus was the one who had made him well. Therefore, the Jews began to persecute Jesus because he did this on a sabbath.
The Gospel of the Lord
R/ Praise to you, Lord Jesus Christ.
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richardnixonlibrary · 11 months
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Here's a #Nixon50 memory from this week in 1973. On 5/8/1973, Legendary soccer (yes, we know most of the world calls it football) superstar Pelé (born Edson Arantes do Nascimento) and his wife Rosemeri dos Reis Cholbi visited President Nixon in the Oval Office. The Wilson H6011 ball signed by Pelé is in our museum collection. We also have one signed by the 1973 Real Madrid squad. (Images: WHPO-E0765-09A & 12A)
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harmonie-writes · 1 year
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Personal rant time
So, it wasn't even 8am when the assistant store director in training (she is the deli manager) came back here and started berating my manager over numbers. "Well, I'm in the same boat you are, and I manage to get it all done." Like, excuse me, you haven't even worked in your own department for three weeks, I don't want to hear anything from you. Plus, you don't have to do the baking shift, which is 12a-8:30a.
She didn't say good morning or anything. Just blah, blah, blah.
Also, for someone who wants to work as an entire store manager, you need to work on your people skills. You need to know when a time to continue a conversation is, and you need to realize if there is an audience (she did this in front of the entire bakery).
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gotham-ruaidh · 3 days
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Little Bit Better Than I Used To Be
Catch up: Chapter 1 (Starry Eyes) || Chapter 2 (Save Our Souls) || Chapter 3 (Dancing On Glass)|| Chapter 4 (Merry-Go-Round)|| Backstage (1) || Backstage (2) || Chapter 5 (Danger)|| Backstage (3) || Chapter 6A (Love Walked In) || Chapter 6B (Without You) || Backstage (4) || Chapter 7 (Stick To Your Guns) || Chapter 8 (Time For Change) || Backstage (5) || Chapter 9 (Take Me To The Top) || Backstage (6) || Chapter 10 (Home Sweet Home) || Backstage (7) || Chapter 11a (Nightrain) || Chapter 11b (Nothing Else Matters) || Chapter 12a (Handle With Care) || Chapter 12b (I’m So Tired of Being Lonely) || Chapter 13a (Angel) || Chapter 13b (She’s My Addiction) || Chapter 13c (Patience) || Chapter 14a (Where Do We Go Now?) || Chapter 14b (Where Do We Go Now?) || Chapter 14c (Where Do We Go Now?) || Chapter 15a (Dreams) || Chapter 15b (I Sing A Song of Love) || Chapter 15c (You Can Do This If You Try) || Chapter 16 (Let That Feeling Grab You Deep Inside || Chapter 17A: Never Tear Us Apart || Chapter 17B: It’s Tough To Be Somebody, And It’s Hard Not To Fall Apart  || Chapter 17C: I’m Wishing, Lord, That I Was Stoned || Chapter 18: Turn The Page || Chapter 19A: When You’re Alone, Do You Let Go? || Chapter 19B: Heading For A Spin ||| Also posted at AO3
Chapter 20A: I Don't Need Nothing When I'm By Your Side
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So hold me close, better hang on tight Buckle up, baby, it's a bumpy ride We're two kids hitching down the road of life Our world, our fight
-- “Born To Be My Baby,” Bon Jovi (1988) [click here to listen]
North Carolina || February 1989
Jamie frowned, looking back and forth between the shelf he’d just put together and the three unpacked boxes of books (two marked CLAIRE, one marked JAMIE).
Would she like them organized alphabetically by author? Genre? Size?
He rubbed the back of his neck, thinking. Or perhaps she wanted medical books in her workroom? And maybe he could put his music books on the cabinet in his studio –
“There you are.”
He hadn’t heard Claire pad into the room – at some point they would need to get throw rugs to protect the gorgeous old hardwood floors – and smiled as she effortlessly stepped into his embrace.
They held each other for a long moment – his lips against her hair, her face buried in the safety of his neck.
Almost three months since the acoustic tour had ended, the night before Claire’s birthday. About six weeks since they had closed on their dream house, nestled against a mountain in the forests of North Carolina, not too far from The Ridge. And about two weeks since the items in storage – from her packed-up apartment in Boston, and his packed-up house in Los Angeles – had arrived.
The property had everything they needed. Privacy and solitude, of course. An old barn that they were using as a garage for Jamie’s motorcycle and cars. The house – an old cabin, really, dating from the 1800s and which had been lovingly expanded over the years – was perfect. A spacious living room, complete with the original stone fireplace. An eat-in kitchen, with newly replaced appliances. Two small rooms off the back that were now his music studio and her workroom – spaces to pursue their interests. A modestly-sized master bedroom. And a small extra bedroom – which for now was for guests, though God willing would be a nursery very soon.
Claire had insisted on doing two things quickly, before spending their time unpacking all the boxes.
The first was to hang his six gold and two platinum records in his studio – and he agreed, after he had hung her framed medical school diploma on the wall of her workroom.
The second was to install the fax machine on the bare floor of the studio – which, together with the phone, was their only link to the outside world.
For as much as they isolated themselves in this beautiful, peaceful place – the world pushed along without them.
In March, they would leave for L.A. and three weeks of rehearsals with the band. Maybe play a few small gigs in clubs on the Sunset Strip – Jamie had always wanted to do that. And in April, they’d fly to Europe, and kick off the tour that had swelled to 120 dates and stretched into 1990.
Colum was busier than ever – finalizing logistics, negotiating with local promoters, running interference with the suits from the label, upgrading the concerts from arenas to soccer stadiums. He had a conference call with the band every Tuesday – with Ian calling in from Lallybroch in upstate New York, and Angus from various resort spots in Mexico and the Caribbean (“I can’t believe Charlotte and Molly haven’t worn him out yet,” Jamie had mused to Claire one day. She had only shrugged and said, “they take care of each other”). Colum would always have a punchlist of decisions for the band – OK to book studio time during the week off in Scandinavia in July? The roadies couldn’t figure out the pyro setup without the band, OK to wait until rehearsals? They would need to film at least three music videos, which one could be a live performance? – and follow up with decisions in a fax sent later that day.
Jamie had been clear with Colum that he had three conditions for the tour: that Claire would be with him, that Raymond would be traveling with the band, and that the same no alcohol/drugs/groupies rule from the acoustic tour would carry through to this tour. Of course Colum had agreed. Just as he’d agreed to make provisions for Jenny to periodically fly out to visit Ian, and for Angus to always have a suite with two bathrooms to keep his girlfriends happy.
Claire and Jamie knew that this tour would be difficult, for so many different reasons. But they would be better prepared this time, to draw strength from each other, and to have Raymond for support. And maybe, just maybe they would return home from Europe with the best souvenir of all…
“Another fax from Colum,” Claire murmured after a long while.
Jamie snorted against her hair. “I don’t know whether to be impressed or annoyed.”
“I do admire how hard he’s working for you and for the band. And how much he’s keeping all of you in the loop on the decisions he’s making. He doesn’t want any surprises.”
“I’d imagine not. The amount of bullshit he has to be putting up with right now must be insane. I just hope he doesn’t crack.”
“He never said if he’s bringing Tricia on the tour.” Tricia – Colum’s wife of more than ten years. She stood a head taller than her husband, still impossibly beautiful in her late thirties, smiling for every frown on her husband’s face. Claire had only met her once – couldn’t say she really knew her – but she knew enough about her.
How she had first met Colum at a party in 1970, when he was a roadie for Led Zeppelin and she was part of a gaggle of groupies that held court at the Riot House in L.A.
How, when she and her girlfriends joined the Led Zep tour the following summer, he had punched out the lighting guy at the Cow Palace in San Francisco when he heard the guy didn’t understand what Tricia meant by saying “no”.
How Geordie Ash – the reporter who had put Jamie (and, in a way, Claire) on the map last year with that Rolling Stone article – had sent flowers to her hotel room every day for a month during Led Zeppelin’s 1973 U.S. tour. Not knowing, of course, that she was allergic to lilies – or how Colum, who knew more about her by that point than he cared to admit, had wordlessly disposed of them for her, every day that month.
“I don’t think she likes to tour.” Jamie’s thumb traced lazy circles on the skin of Claire’s back. “Too many bad memories.”
If you asked any rock journalist or musician who had found Alex MacGregor – assistant to Led Zeppelin manager Peter Grant – dead in his Seattle hotel room in the spring of 1975, they would all say quite confidently that it had been Colum Laird, who by that point had advanced to lead Zeppelin’s touring crew.
But a handful of people – Peter Grant, and Colum, and Jamie, and now Claire – knew the truth.
Tricia woke up, Alex cold beside her in bed, a needle in his arm. The only thing she knew to do was slip quietly down the hall, tumbling into Colum’s room…and finally, his arms. Where she had remained ever since.
“I couldn’t imagine being away from you for so long.” Claire sighed. “I don’t know how they make it work.”
Jamie shrugged. “They love each other very deeply. They fixed the broken pieces in each other. And now she has the two boys to keep her busy.” He kissed her forehead. “Something for us to aspire to, perhaps. What’s in the fax?”
She held it out for him to read. Sharing a smile at Colum’s scrawl.
J+C: I’m not calling because I interrupted enough moments between you on tour and I’ll probably do it again this year. I don’t have Raymond’s info pls have him get in touch so we have a copy of his credentials and the travel agent can make all arrangements for Europe. I got the label to foot the bill for his travel meals and hotels, convinced them it’s a business expense, you’re welcome. Stay out of trouble. Colum.
“We’ll have him give Colum a call after he arrives this afternoon,” Jamie mused, folding the fax and sliding it into the back pocket of his jeans.
Claire nodded. “The guest room is all ready. And I’m glad Dougal and Gillian and William will be here tomorrow – I’m so happy they’re so close by.”
Jamie squeezed her shoulder, and released her. “As am I. Now, I have a question for you about these books…”
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postjentacular · 1 year
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Day 1 of @kinkuary 2023: Accidental stimulation/arousal
Lingua Erotica
Chapters: 1/1 (809 words)
Fandom: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Additional Tags: Aural Kink, Parseltongue Kink (Harry Potter), Coming In Pants, Semi-Public Sex, Accidental Stimulation, HP Kinkuary 2021, Unspeakable Draco Malfoy, Parselmouth Harry Potter
Series: Part 1 of Kinkuary 2023
Summary: Draco really should've read the course syllabus.
Read on AO3 or below the cut.
It's ridiculous that after three years of training and thousands of years of magic, that Unspeakables spend the first year of their job in even more classes fine-tuning spells. For the past sixteen weeks Draco's spent his weekday mornings in a draughty office next door to the Death Chamber with three others from his graduating cohort working on unravelling curses from their training tchotchkes and his afternoons in language-immersion, but now it was all change: for the next sixteen weeks he'd spend mornings in language-immersion and afternoons with the indomitable box.
Language-immersion, his supervisor had reiterated, was vital for their perpetual translation charms to take, a quick Linguae might be enough for a wix on holiday, but Unspeakables needed something a bit more advanced than that, and so for the perpetual translation charm to take it needed soaked in language, like an aural sponge. The first block of classes had the whole cohort cover the basics: Spanish, Arabic, Mesopotamian; and now they were onto languages befitting their specialties: French and Italian for the Love interns; Celtic, Althochdeutsch, and Eald Ænglisċ for the Myths, Legends and Folklorists, and, what, Draco didn't know, for the Dark Arts.
He should've known.
How could he not have?
Regardless, it became bloody obvious when Potter walked into their far too large classroom, sat down heavily behind the desk at the front of the room and started hissing half heartedly, paying Draco and his three classmates no heed. Of course it was Parseltongue, what else would it have been? Who else could it have been?
It took about thirty seconds for Draco’s embarrassing teenage crush to come roaring back at full force and another minute or so before his trousers started to feel a smidge small in the crotch. Of all the inappropriate times… Sure, he saw Potter around the Ministry – at a distance – on the regular, and heard him on the wireless every other week, but polished speeches of pithy soundbites delivered in carefully coached RP did nothing to entice his fucked-up libido, the ol' hiss-hiss on the other hand… It was going to be a long lesson.
Potter didn't let up, at the end of the first hour he paused and Draco attempted to calculate how stealthily he could get from his desk – smack dab in the middle of the room – and out the door to blessed relief, but before he could come up with anything more nuanced than keep his head down and his robe closed, Potter had started up again.
If Draco were certain of anything it was that he’s harder than he’d ever been in his life; he’s going to faint as all of his blood is in his cock, he’s probably never going to be soft again. He’ll die right here and be forever forced to haunt lecture room 12A, the ghost of Draco The Perpetually Horny creeping out newbie Unspeakables for years to come, stuck in limbo until he can fulfil his greatest desire: to come.
He shuffled subtly to sit on his hands, he couldn’t trust them not to stray on their own, to jerk off under the desk leaving a puddle on the floor and his dedicated corpse, sated and empty, a husk in his chair.
For the next hour, everything ceased to exist save for the thundering in his chest, the throbbing between his legs, and that damn hiss. For the briefest flash he considered if he could just come quietly in his boxers but he dismissed the thought as quickly as it arrived, there’s no way he’s going to be able to keep quiet-
“Malfoy.”
No no no no no. There is no fucking way he’s adding a daydream to this clusterfuck.
“Malfoy,” Daydream Potter was speaking to him again, “are you okay, class has been over for like ten minutes.” Daydream Potter was oddly solid as he used his oddly corporeal hand to pull out the chair next to Draco and sit down. “Oh. Is that…”
It was no daydream. There was nothing more he could do, so Draco just nodded as he sat there in his horny, horny shame.
“Is it from…” he trailed off as Draco lifted his head and looked Potter straight in the eye, as he nodded again. In for a sickle, in for a galleon. “Are you going to come for me? Just like this? In your pants, untouched, ſss-hh-a.”
He couldn’t have stopped it if he tried, before Potter even finished hissing, he was coming, the damp patch spreading quickly across his boxers and through onto his trousers. Potter didn’t look away once, holding Draco’s gaze through every judder, grunt, and whine. Giving little encouraging hisses with every jerk of his pelvis.
When his orgasm did eventually subside Potter simply cocked his head and gave a smirk, “I think it’s private lessons for you from now on.”
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usafphantom2 · 1 month
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Around 200,00 Million dollars for the new A-12s.
The Skunk Works leader Kelly Johnson called it the U3 when he first started sketching it on April 21, 1958, according to his archangel notebook. What he proposed early on was a Mach three cruise airplane having a 4000 nautical mile range at 90 to 95,000 altitude.
This was BEFORE Francis Gary Powers was shot down on May 1, 1960, over the Soviet Union, also known as Russia. They were preparing for the next U2 because they knew that the Soviets would be able to shoot the U2 down. Unfortunately, they were right.
On this day, February 11, 1960 ( 64 years ago), a contract was signed between the CIA and Lockheed Skunk Works authorizing the construction of 12 “Oxcarts” A-12s at a cost of 96.6 million. Luckily for Lockheed, the CIA included a clause in the contract allowing reevaluation costs. It was a clause that had to be invoked on several occasions over the next five years as the cost spiraled to more than double the original estimate. The original contract was for only 12 A-12s.
They ended up with 18 A-12s that include variations such as three YF- 12 and two M 21. In 1960, the Air Force agreed to take pay for the seventh to ninth slots on the A-12 production line and complete them in the YF-12A interceptor configuration. In 1962, Kelly Johnson started sketching the SR 71 using everything he had learned while designing and producing the A-12. The SR 71 was Kelly’s masterpiece.
Six A-12 were lost in accidents. One A- 12 of the six was never recovered. On June 4, 1968, Jack Weeks was in Article 129 on a checkout flight after an engine change for the trip to the United States. He was last heard from 520 miles east of Manila. No trace of the plane was found, and an investigation turned up no clue about the cause of the crash. Signals received about a half hour into the flight from the onboard BIRDWATCHER monitoring system indicated engine trouble, a catastrophic failure. The remaining are in museums around the United States.
Two of the more unique variations of the A-12, the M -21 is at the Museum of Flight Seattle, Washington, and the YF -12 is at the Museum of the Air Force Dayton, Ohio.
My source is Paul Crickmore's Blackbird Beyond the Secret Missions, the missing chapters. Wikipedia. And thesr71blackbird.com/History/CIA/a-…
Linda Sheffield
$200,000,000 in 1960 = $2,086,707,482.99 in 2024.
@Habubrat71 via X
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edinfurs · 9 months
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EdinFurs July Meet - 1st July 2023
Hello and good evening! Hope people have been having a good week so far?
This is just your friendly reminder that the Edinfurs meet is coming up soon! We’ll be back at our usual hangout, and we’ll have the upstairs room with full bar this time around!
The Next Edinfurs meet will take place on the 1st of July between 12:00 and 18:00 on the upper floor at The Outhouse bar, 12A Broughton Street Lane, EH1 3LY.
https://goo.gl/maps/PQgdAm63wYzPiayf8
I know this place is a little bit out of the way, but it is rather cozy! In a good way! Sadly, the place does not have a kitchen, so ordering food at the bar is a no-go. They allow people to bring their own food, but be prepared to put it away if staff asks you to. This isn’t something that should be taken for granted.
This venue is a bit out of the way, so if you're unsure and would like to meet up before going to the venue, just ping the Edinfurs group a message on Telegram and I'm sure someone will be able to sort something out.
Unfortunately, there are still certian aspects of current day life that we have to pay attention to, which means the following:
- If you have any symptoms or are otherwise feeling unwell, please do not come. Your health and that of others comes before socialising.
- We also recommend bringing your own hand sanitisers as we can't provide them for you.
The usual rules also still apply:
1. Please no prominent Tails at the meet, this has to do with potentially knocking things off of the tables. Conbadges, small accessories and ears are fine. As we’ve got the space for ourselves this week, I’m giving the go-ahead for partials. Still no full suits please as it does get warm upstairs!
2. Don't be jerk, creepy or overly affectionate to people you don't know.
3. Respect the places we are! Please don't bring your own food and drink, within reason. Please also buy stuff at the places we are in, it helps leave a good impression and means we could come back in the future! (Temporary adjustment as this venue does allow outside food. Still no drink though!)
4. BRING ID! Even if you're not planning to drink.
5. Please drink responsibly and look out for fellow furs.
6. You must be 18 or older to attend this meet. This is in line with the requirements for the telegram group.
There is an extra bit for the people who read this far. We will have the August meet as per usual as a BBQ at the Meadows further details to come later. If you have any questions or comments, please feel free to get in touch with me. @DiamondDragon on Telegram or PM on Social Media.
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mapsofthelost · 2 years
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Neighbours
It was months of stress and heartbreak and phone calls, but finally it was over and you’d moved into your new house at No. 12, the house that you hoped would be your forever home.
Over a week, the boxes empty and the shelves and the cupboards filled, and it started to look like you had seen it in your dreams. You were exhausted though, by the move, by the unpacking, and at the end of the week you took some time out just to rest because you were that tired you kept seeing flickering in your peripheral vision, and once thought you heard someone talking, even though you were the only person there.
At the end of the week, the doorbell rang and when you opened the door a man was standing there, who looked surprised to see you.
“Hi,” you said.

“Sorry,” he said. “I don’t think - I was looking for 12a.”
“This is number 12,” you said. “I…” You look left and right. “I’ve only been here a few days, so I might be wrong, but I’m pretty sure there isn’t a 12a. Look, if you step back you can see that next door that way is 10, and that way 14, and over the road they’re all odds, so…”
The man frowned, but at himself, not at you. “I mustn’t have my directions right. I’ll try again. Sorry.”
You tell him it’s not a problem, and close the door and go back to what you were doing.
A few days later your doorbell rings again, and when you open it there’s a middle-aged woman there, looking anxious.
“Hi,” you say, worried that something’s up.
“No, it’s definitely here,” the woman said. “Why won’t you let me in?”
“I’m really sorry,” you say, because you’re polite and kind. “But this is definitely number 12. Look, there’s the number on the wall. There’s no 12a. I think there must be some kind of mix-up or misprinted map, because you’re not the first…”
She wasn’t the first, and neither will she be the last.
There is a number 12a, and it occupies exactly the same place and time as your house. Sometimes people will forget their way there, and will call at your door. Be kind to them, explain that they have just missed the way, and they need to read their directions again.
You’ll never stop seeing the flickers again, in your peripheral vision, but you’ll get used to them. Think of them as your very near neighbours.
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