corner of curiosity

anonymous asked:

*coughs up blood* p-parkour continuation, death by arahir's writing is how I wanna go... ur too good I love you omg.

yo here have some passably cute and anguished parkour

sheith parkour au part 3: matt falls into a romantic comedy by accident

[part 1] [part 2]

Dear Katie,

I’m disowning you.

Matt doesn’t talk to Shiro for a full twenty four hours. Not because he’s mad, but because he can’t look at Shiro without his bright eyes and his red face and Keith’s soft little Sir playing on loop in his mind.

It’s the like an intrusive thought, but instead of something innocuous like wanting to drop his phone off the side of the Garrison, he wants to jam his head against the wall until the memory is gone or he sustains permanent brain damage.

He’s about thirty seconds from giving in when the door to their room slams open—actually slams—and Shiro flings himself inside.

“Someone sent him flowers,” he moans in absolute agony. Shiro should be at lunch, far away from Matt, which means he actually hunted Matt down in their rooms to cry about this, which—

“Wait, what? Flowers?” Matt asks, because it rings a bell in the worst way.

“I knew this would happen,” Shiro mutters, not listening. “He’s got that hair and the legs and the accent…”

Keith has at least two of those things, but so do most people, and there’s no way two people at the Garrison have been bewitched by that hair. It’s not statistically possible. “How did they send him flowers all the way out here? How did you even find out?”

Shiro flops down on his bed and pulls his pillow over his face in a fair imitation of a distraught teen girl. “Iverson,” he says into the cloth, followed by something long and moaning that Matt can’t make out, which is probably for the best.

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Devotion: 1950s!Bucky AU

A summer stuck in the south was not what you expected, nonetheless you spend your time along the porch of your Aunt’s home - placed in a summertime sadness. You were devoted to your image of good girl ways, your family expects nothing less than the perfect little girl to be married off by the age of 19 - that is until you met the boy next door.

Notes: 50s!Bucky AU, teasing, Naked Bucky, smoking

If you’d like to be tagged, send me an ask :) Let me know what you think too! 

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can’t you see it’s me?

the sanvers soulmate au where you feel what your soulmate does (pain, pleasure)

words: 2968

tw for past child abuse

Alex Danvers is five years old when she realizes pain – to this extent, at least – isn’t normal. She’s five years old when she realizes that the stinging pain in her face or the gutted feeling in her stomach is because her soulmate is out there, somewhere, getting hurt.

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The Losers Club™

Pairing: Platonic!Reader x The Holy Trinity + Tony, Sam and Harry!

Summary: this is an IT AU based on the Losers Club (Bill, Richie, Eddie, Ben, Mike, Stan and Bev). about how the club is formed, basically. just a lil small thing because i love the Losers Club and i love IT. :-)

*Notes: this was fun to write and inspired by @imaginesofeverykind and if anything this is just for me fhgjfdhjke see if you can guess who’s who though? ;) also this is unedited jsbdjf GO WATCH “IT”!

Tom sighed, picking up his bike from the ground and dusting off his light-washed jeans. He walked the rest of the way to school, his knee hurting too much to get back on the bike and pedal the rest of the half-mile. Fucking Henry Byers, he should really pick on someone his own size – or of the same IQ, at least. Tom slowed down, hearing Harrison and Sam’s voice calling to him at a distance. He turned around, greeting his friends with a fake smile.

“What the fuck happened to your leg?” Tom’s eyebrows furrowed, looking down and seeing the dirt on his pants. He groaned, letting his bike fall again before leaning down and trying his best to rub the dirt away. “Yeah, that’s gonna help.”

“P-piss off, Haz.” Tom muttered, pursing his lips slightly as he realized he stuttered again. “Did y-you guys s-see Byers? Fucking s-shoved me on the ground.” He stood back up, pulling his bike along with him as he walked along the sidewalk. Sam’s watch beeped, signaling it was time for his anti-anxiety medication.

“You still take those?” Sm ignored Harrison, knowing everything that came out of his mouth was an insult, or an insult disguised as a joke. “I didn’t see Byers.”

“Me either; must’ve just missed him.” Sam shrugged, putting his pills back into the fanny pack wrapped securely around his waist. “You guys ready for summer?” Tom and Harrison both smiled widely, launching them into the discussion of what their next few months held.

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Take Control

Eddie Kaspbrak disappeared every Thursday for at least three hours (often an hour or so more) after the end of the school day for no apparent reason whatsoever. All that Richie knew about it was that he took his bike to get there (which came as no surprise at all) and that he never bothered explaining where he was rushing off to or why he couldn’t see him and the other losers again until later that evening. Everyone else seemed to have accepted his mysterious weekly vanishing as one of Eddie’s many quirks and Richie had almost done the same – this had been going on ever since he’d met him, after all – until he decided he’d had enough of his Thursday afternoon boredom. Not being around Eddie always seemed to make his mind itch in anticipation and he blamed that for his frequent outbursts of irrational behaviour. While Eddie was with him, though his palms were often drenched in sweat and he could sometimes hear nothing but his own rapid heartbeat, he would always at least try not to do anything completely stupid, just so he could stay on Eddie’s good side. Without him, he simply lost control.

So on one particular Thursday in autumn, whilst the other losers all agreed to meet up at the barrens after dinner and then went their separate ways (Eddie having already rushed off to wherever he so desperately needed to go), Richie rushed off as well, just after Eddie and keeping him in sight, but making sure to remain at a safe distance from him to minimise the chances of him being seen. During the next forty minutes they rode through parts of the town Richie had never ventured into before, Eddie unknowingly leading the way.

He obviously knew the areas they crossed exceedingly well, weaving in and out of traffic and hurtling around countless street corners with ease. Richie did his best to keep up but almost lost him on more than occasion, not to mention the time he was sure he would have gotten caught because the only sounds that could be heard were the whir of his bicycle wheels and the crunch of dry, crisp reddened leaves as he rode over them. But Eddie didn’t even flinch or glance behind him. Maybe he’d known he was being followed all along, or maybe he was so focused on wherever he was headed that everything else was an irrelevant blur. Richie hoped it was the latter.

Eddie eventually came to a stop on a busy street paved with cracked concrete and lined with more shops, traffic and people than Richie was used to. He stood his bike next to a run-down building with peeling white and green paint, waited for the green door to open from the inside and walked in with his bag over his shoulder defensively. The sign above the door proclaimed, “Derry’s Dance Academy” in thick cursive lettering. Richie watched from around the nearest corner, eyes filled with curiosity and wonder. He waited for a minute before propping his bike up against the wall, pressing the buzzer by the door and heading inside once the door miraculously opened for him.

What hit him first was the smell. It wasn’t unpleasant and he contemplated it carefully as he breathed it in. It was like… shoes, mainly, but with a hint of some sort of lemon-scented air freshener as well. With a loose grip on the handrail beside him, he climbed up the pink-carpeted stairs and peered through the next door he came to, which seemed to lead out into a reception area that doubled up as a dance studio. He couldn’t see Eddie anywhere, so he turned the handle and wandered inside.

Relieved as he was to find that it wasn’t exactly packed with people (dance students or otherwise) he couldn’t help feeling alarmed that he seemed to have lost track of his friend. There were a few other places he could have gotten to, though – more specifically, through the door opposite him into another studio or into one of what he guessed were the changing rooms. Ignoring the stares from the handful of dancers stretching in front of wall-long mirror to his left, he crossed the room and gazed through into the other studio, hoping to find Eddie there doing something he could probably be blackmailed for. Instead he found himself disappointed, a stone-faced dance teacher glaring back at him through the glass. He grinned at her and excused himself, turning to the boys’ changing room. It was the only other place he could be.

And yet Eddie Kaspbrak was nowhere to be seen. All he found was a couple of other boys squabbling over whose tights were the cleanest and whitest. Richie couldn’t help thinking to himself that if Eddie did in fact have an identical pair of tights, his would obviously be the cleanest and so their argument would be rendered obsolete.

There was one place he still hadn’t checked (save for the girls’ changing room, a place he didn’t expect Eddie to have snuck into), which he hadn’t known existed until the moment he stepped into the changing room. There was a short, narrow hallway leading away from where he stood and he followed it to an archway, through which he found himself behind that stone-faced teacher he’d seen before. And passed her, holding onto a bar while he stretched his left leg out in front of him, toes perfectly pointed, was Eddie Kaspbrak.

His hair had been brushed neatly – far more neatly than Richie had ever seen – and his posture had somehow improved dramatically, his back impeccably straight as he turned and placed his other hand on the wooden bar beside him, preparing to begin stretching out his leg all over again. His usual scarlet shorts and cream t-shirt had been swapped for a navy-blue shirt and a pair of black shorts which he wore over a spotless pair of bright white tights, his trainers having been exchanged for delicate-looking peach-coloured ballet slippers.

A part of Richie wanted to laugh hysterically while the majority was too awestruck to properly form an opinion, leaving him to stand there vacantly in the doorway until he was caught and confronted by the dance teacher, who demanded in a surprising English accent (Richie had assumed she was either French or American) that if he wanted to join the class, his hair would need to be tied back and he’d need to get his hands on a uniform. He took one more glance at Eddie – who still hadn’t noticed him – before replying that he just wanted to watch, at which point Eddie recognised his voice and tripped over his own feet in the middle of what had until then been a very promising pirouette.

Richie’s trance was immediately broken, and his lips curled up into a smirk as he bit back his laughter while Eddie looked up at him from the floor. “Didn’t expect to see you here, Eds,” he commented with a mischievous grin, knowing full well Eddie was about to die of embarrassment.

“Shut up, Richie. You know I hate it when you call me that,” Eddie snapped, picking himself up from the tiled floor and dusting himself off, returning to the wooden bar that lined the room.

Several other dancers had joined him in the studio by then, but Richie only saw Eddie as they lined up at the bar. His grin still plastered on his face, he took a seat on the floor in the corner of the room, crossed his legs and kept his gaze glued to Eddie. In all the years he’d known him, he’d never seen him move so gracefully or so delicately – of course Eddie’s fragility was well-known amongst anyone who’d ever met him, but this was very different. He didn’t seem nervous or afraid as he so often did, but in fact almost confident in his ability – something Richie had only ever seen in him when he was spouting out medical facts or doing first aid. It was refreshing.

He sat there in awe for the next hour, managing to miraculously bite back every insensitive comment he felt like making (the dance teacher’s cold eyes did often wander over in his direction, quickly putting a stop to anything he felt an urge to blurt out). He did, however, find himself snickering a few times whenever Eddie happened to glance at him; he just couldn’t believe that this was what his best friend had hiding from him all this time.

When the class finally came to a close, Eddie walked over to him hesitantly and he eagerly jumped up from the floor, the countless jokes he’d wanted to make about his secret dance classes suddenly vanishing from his mind, dissolving into a pool of images of the elegance and poise he’d witnessed within the last hour. “You were good,” was all he managed to say and even Eddie didn’t seem to know how to accept such a compliment, muttering a barely audible “thanks” as he headed into the changing room.

“So, what the hell are you doing here?” he started as Richie followed him through the doorway, keeping his gaze fixed on anything that wasn’t his best friend.

“Isn’t that obvious? I followed you.” Eddie scowled at him in reply before bending down to pick up his bag and beginning to get changed. He kept quiet but soon realised that Richie’s eyes were boring holes into the back of his head and he glanced up at him, finding him leaning against the wall with a dazed look on his face. He snapped at him to stop staring, instantly dragging him out of whatever daydream he’d been trapped in. “What?” Richie grinned, gaze still fixated on him. “I just can’t get over the fact that you’re actually wearing tights!”

“Except that I’m not – not anymore, idiot. I took them off.” Richie blinked in response before scanning his friend’s body with his gaze, only to find that he’d changed back into his usual clothes without him noticing. He nudged his glasses further up the bridge of his nose, picked up Eddie’s bag for him and opening the door, asking if he was ready to leave. Eddie nodded, took the bag from him and made his way out with Richie trailing after him like a lost puppy.

Quickly catching up with the younger boy (he did have much longer legs than Eddie, after all) Richie held onto him protectively as they headed through the busy dance studio and out the door to where they had left their bikes. He didn’t like the way the other dancers were watching them, as if Eddie belonged to them and he had no place there – which, of course, they must have gotten the wrong way around because Eddie belonged to him and only him, although the rest of the losers’ club probably would have been inclined to argue with him about that.

Eddie’s bike was outside waiting for him exactly where he’d left it. Richie’s, however, was not. The two of them looked around and scanned the area but it was nowhere to be seen and after exclaiming a string of profanities which the younger boy scolded him for, Richie turned to his best friend for guidance. “What the hell am I gonna do? It’s too far to walk and I have no idea where the fuck I am! I blame you for this, Eds.”

“Me?” Eddie scoffed, climbing onto his bike and looking as if he was about to leave his friend stranded in a strange part of town (well, the whole town of Derry was strange, but this part specifically was completely unknown to Richie). “I told you when we first met never to follow me after school on Thursdays. This is your fault!”

Richie didn’t say anything but secretly wondered how it had taken him this long to finally find out where he got to once a week after school. When it looked like Eddie was about to leave, he stepped in front of his bike and grabbed the handlebars, pointing out the bus stop across the street. “Get the bus back with me? I’ll make it worth your while.” His hand grazed against the younger’s as he spoke, and Eddie flinched like he’d been touched by a personified infection. He tried not to show his disappointment but ultimately failed, Eddie catching the hurt look in his eyes and apologising immediately.

“Fine, I’ll take the bus with you. I’m not sure what you mean by “making it worth my while” but as long as you’re paying, that’ll be enough.” He hopped down from his bike and with a sheepish looking Richie in tow, wheeled it across the road to sit under the bus stop while Richie read through the timetable.

There was a bus coming in ten minutes, but all that meant to Richie was ten minutes of awkward conversation while beads of nervous sweat clung to his forehead, his palms became clammy and a single question burnt a fiery chasm in the back of his mind. His tongue crept out to wet his lower lip, his throat drying up more feverishly with every passing moment. He was close enough to Eddie to touch him and all he wanted to do was entangle his fingers in his dark, chocolate-coloured curls and breathe in his scent the way he imagined doing in his dreams every night without fail, but knowing he would be given the same look as a disease-ridden corpse kept his compulsions at bay and he shuffled ever so slightly away from him, his gaze remaining on the road ahead as pretended to look out for the number twelve bus. But really his thoughts were consumed by the boy beside him because that’s how it always was and, as far as Richie could tell, how it always would be.

He loved and cared for each of the other losers equally, but for Eddie Kaspbrak it was a different kind of love. The kind where he was in every waking thought his mind produced and in every dream, every nightmare and every reverie too. The kind where he imagined them doing things he’d never thought about doing with anyone else, like how he imagined Eddie’s lips would taste of hot cocoa and candyfloss, or how he often pictured himself sleeping next to Eddie in a bed they owned together, legs intertwined and fingers locking them in place. In his mind, the two of them were inseparable.

It was only because Eddie nudged him in the stomach with his elbow that his contemplation dispersed, the sudden roar of an engine alerting him to the fact that the bus had arrived. He paid for their tickets with a ten-dollar bill and followed Eddie to their seats, his hands finding their way onto the bike as well, both of them holding it down so it wouldn’t fall during their journey.

That question was still there, calling to him and begging to be spoken aloud. It had been there in the back of his mind for quite some time, but the sight of Eddie pirouetting across a room in tights and executing a virtually perfect arabesque had practically set it on fire.

“Eds,” he started hesitantly, the glare that he met with prompting him to correct himself. “Eddie, are you… You can answer honestly, okay? It won’t mean anything if you are but… are you gay?”

“No!” Eddie exclaimed a little too quickly, almost dropping the bike in shock. “I mean, not all male ballet dancers are gay, you know? Like the other guys in my class… they’re probably not. I don’t know.” He breathed deeply into his inhaler, the blush creeping up onto his cheeks making Richie smirk ever so slightly. “Why are you asking, anyway? Are you?”

Richie shook his head but it was his turn to blush. “I guess not. I was just… wondering, that’s all.” But he didn’t get to say what he wanted to, not if he also wanted to keep their friendship intact. So for once in his life he shut himself up, only silently adding “But I’d kiss you if you asked” and praying to every god and deity he’d ever heard of that Eddie hadn’t at some point become telepathic.

❧ | hero

Originally posted by minghaon

pairing; seventeen the8 x reader 

genre; angst, fluff, bullying warning

synopsis; a guy at school physically hits you after you tried to defend one of the bully’s victims, and minghao comes to help.

word count; 1386 words

notes; i’ll be off this week for my exams and i’ll start posting again after they’re over !! this one isn’t a major exam though, the main one is 2/3 weeks after this >< i’m mentally dying ack

The bell for lunch break went off, and the noise level increases significantly as everyone pushed their chairs back, shoving their already dog-eared textbooks into their bags and standing up to leave the class.

“Remember that the essay is due on Wednesday, everyone!” the teacher raises her voice, only to be heard by a few students who replied with subtle yeses. 

Your close friend, Eryn, came over to your desk, only her wallet and phone clutched in her hands. She was a fairly quiet and polite girl, but when she’s crazy, she’s crazy as hell.

“We have extra lesson for History later,” she reminded you just as you were packing up. 

You let out a tired groan. “Right.”

You let your bag fall back to the floor as it leaned onto the leg of your desk. Just then, you recalled that your History books were still in your locker, the block beside the cafeteria. 

“Oh, right!” you exclaimed. “You go ahead first. I left my books in the locker again.”

Eryn pressed her lips together and narrows her eyes at you, and you chuckle sheepishly. You frequently leave your books in your locker when you need them, and sometimes you even leave them in the dorm room after bringing them back for revision. 

“Alright,” Eryn said. “Be quick!”

You nodded and raced out of the classroom, to the locker halls which were two blocks away from where your classroom was. It sounded far but the blocks on campus were pretty close to each other, so it took you just about 5 minutes to walk-jog to the lockers.

At this time, the hallways were pretty empty in the block, since everyone had left to grab lunch. You liked it empty, though. Having people randomly bump into your shoulders every now and then in a crowded, narrow hallway was definitely not very nice. 

You turned the lock on the metal door of your locker, pulling it open as it squeaked like a old door. You easily found your needed History textbook in your neat locker, your loose notes stuck in between the pages. You pulled out the book and shut the locker door, briefly flipping the book open to make sure all your History notes were in there and no loose paper dropped out by accident. 

Just then, you heard a low, hollow bang, as if something was just thrown against the wall, followed by sounds of muffled talking. You turned instantaneously — the sound had come from behind a wall at a turned corner. 

Curiosity got into your head and you clutched your book tightly in your hand, making your way to the back of the wall.

What you saw didn’t take you by surprise, and you let out a tired breath. You had seen this scene too many times. 

“Stop that, will you?” you said aloud. 

The three bullies — Mark, Jake and Brian — were making their move on their regular victim, Noah; shoving him against the wall, and if you guessed right, they were, as usual, trying to extort money from him.

The three of them looks over at you, unfazed. Noah looks over, too, after gaining his bearings.

“Get lost if you don’t wanna get involved,” Mark muttered. You rolled your eyes. You weren’t particularly scared of them, although you didn’t know much of self-defense. You just saw this same scene unfold too many times.

Ignoring Mark and the other two, you went over to hunched and bruised Noah, helping him up and whispering a silent “let’s go.”

“Looks like you wanna take over his place, huh?” Mark smirked, grabbing the fabric of your uniform on your shoulder and yanking you back. Noah surprisingly makes his own escape. You didn’t mind, though. That was your main motive in the first place after all. 

You stumbled a little, but not enough to make yourself lose balance. You get cornered against the wall, and you turned away in annoyance as Mark closed in. 

“Why do you have to be such a nosy bitch?” he spat, and you grit your teeth, still avoiding any eye contact with him. You attitude made him boil with anger; before you could brace yourself for any impact, his knee harshly collides with your stomach, knocking the air out of you. 

Your arm instinctively wraps around your torso and you fall to the side, feeling suffocated as no sound could make its way out of your throat, as you tried to gasp for air. 

“Woo,” Mark lets out a satisfied call. “That felt good.”

Your airway cleared up a few seconds later, allowing you to take short, deep breaths. Your fist clenched together on the floor as you struggled to hold yourself up. 

That was when you started regretting a little for getting yourself involved. 

“How did that feel?” Mark asked you sarcastically. “Here’s what you get for being a busybody, you—”

He raises his arm this time, and you squeezed your eyes shut and cowered as you waited for the impact. 

It never came. Instead, you noticed the presence of another shadow over you. 

You slowly and carefully looked up. 


He had his hold on Mark’s wrist, and Jake and Brian immediately tried to attack Minghao. Minghao easily kicked them away — it was obvious that Jake and Brian were just useless back-ups for Mark.

Minghao throws Mark’s arm, and Mark scoffs in surprise. 

“What, you wanna be the knight in shining armor too?” Mark scorns.

Minghao smiles sweetly, shaking his head. 

“Nah. You know, I just strongly believe in an eye for an eye, and a tooth for a tooth,” he said, and before Mark could comprehend what he meant, Minghao forcefully shoves his heel into Mark’s stomach, making him jerk and fall backwards. You widen your eyes.

“Stop being such a fucking coward, even resorting to laying a finger on a lady,” Minghao growls, and Mark couldn’t respond as he was left gasping for air too. 

Minghao turns to you and you flinched. You mentally questioned why you did — Minghao just saved you. 

He gently helps you up, and leads you to another hallway that was connected to the locker hall. 

Just as you were going to dust off your hands, you realized that tiny rocks had dug into your palm, and the rough floor had grazed your skin, making it bleed. 

Minghao saw it, and he nods towards the washroom right beside where you guys were. 

“You should wash that,” he said. 

“Huh? Oh, right… Um, I should,” you muttered, walking briskly into the washroom. You turned on the tap on the sink and hesitantly placed your red palm under the running water, wincing a little as the water washed off the dirt and filth.

You went back outside where Minghao was waiting, and he pulls out a handkerchief from his pocket. 

“T-There’s still blood, though…” you mumbled, but he just takes your hand and pats it dry with the soft cloth. 

You winced again, but slowly got used to it. The two of you just stood there in a moment of silence, until Minghao broke it. 

 “Noah told me,” he told you, answering the question you had in your head. So Noah didn’t just leave freely, you thought.

“Why’d you try to play hero?” Minghao sighs softly. “You only got yourself injured.”

“I also got Noah away,” you added, chuckling, and Minghao pressed his lips together. 

“Yeah, but that’s beside the point,” he said. “You got yourself hurt.”

You smiled at how concerned he was. “I’m alright.”

“Don’t do that again,” he said, and you shrugged. 

“You have extra History lessons too, right?” you asked him, and he nodded. The bleeding from the little cuts on your palm had stopped, and Minghao let your hand fall back to your side. 

“I’ll bring some disinfecting thing over to your dorm room later. It helps a lot with cuts,” he said. 

“You don’t have to!” you said, and Minghao completely ignores you. 

“Let’s head to class now.” He turns to walk back to the teaching blocks, his hands snug in his jeans pockets. 

“Hey, Minghao!” you called out, and he stops, turning back to you. 


“…Thanks,” you said softly. 

“What was that?” he said cheekily, leaning over. 

“I-I said thanks!” you repeated, louder this time. 

He chuckles, his eyes forming wrinkles at the corner, and he reaches out to ruffle your hair. 

“You’re welcome, little hero.” 

Dark Princess

I deeply apologize for posting so late but I had tumblr trouble and I am so frustrated because I lost some of the work I did AND the request I’ve gotten 😭 

Trying to fix it and if I fail to do your request, feel free to shun me. 

Current Requests: 9

Could you an imagine were the reader is from Beaxton and Voldemort’s daughter. And she meets Draco when Voldemort assigns him to protect her when she enters Hogwarts (setting is during Harry Potter: Goblet of Fire -Anonymous

“I entrust my daughter’s life onto your hands, Draco…don’t fail me”

The Dark Lord’s voice echoed in Draco’s mind as he nervously sat in the great hall, not even paying attention to anything else. He ignored Pansy’s failed attempts to start a conversation or Dumbledore’s announcement. He already knew what he was going to say anyway. The Triwizard tournament was going to be held in Hogwarts and students and head masters from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang will be living with them. One of those students is the daughter of the Dark Lord himself. Even if Draco wasn’t marked yet, he was still considered a follower. 

Though he did not exactly see him, he knew it was him.

Besides, all he needed to do was to make sure his daughter was safe and he’ll be fine. 

That should be easy, right?

“Now please join me in welcoming the lovely ladies of the Beauxbatons Academy of Magic and their head mistress, Madam Maxime” Dumbledore smiled, staring at the entrance doors. 

Draco looked up from the table to see girls in blue uniforms enter the Great Hall. The started dancing and making weird noises every once in a while but he would be lying if he said they weren’t attractive. But one stood out the most. He was certain that it was his daughter. He was certain it was you.

You strolled behind the group of your school mates, not daring to do what they were doing. Fleur and her sister were dancing behind them whilst you stayed at the end in front of your head mistress. Madam Maxime knew what you were like. She knew the kinds of havoc you can create. So she tolerated with the behavior you were now showing. Your head held high, shoulders back and face cold. Some of the Hogwarts males turned their gazes on you as you walked.The temperature of the room had suddenly gotten colder. 

Being the daughter of the dark lord wasn’t all that bad. Of course there are some things you had to do to live up to your father’s legacy but you knew you would never reach his level of darkness. But just like him, you were fascinated by dark magic. It was like a curse that could never be broken, A book with no end. As you walked, your eyes scanned everyone in the hall. All those innocents lives. Lives that will one day be taken by your father. You had a small feeling of pity for them. Your father did everything he could to obliterate all kindness in you. But there was always something that he could never get rid of something that only the right person could reveal. 

Your eyes stopped and stared at a pair of the most beautiful grey eyes you had ever seen. You were a sucker for grey eyes. They were like the colour of clouds on  a windy afternoon. Those eyes had belonged to a blonde boy wearing emerald green robes. You would be a Slytherin if you attended Hogwarts, You were certain. 

After dinner, Draco made sure to talk to you privately. He was very eager to speak with you. He knew you were beautiful because of the information from his parents. He didn’t know you were that beautiful. 

Once he saw the familiar pale skin and (H/C) hair, he lightly grabbed your arm catching you by surprise. You yelped, turning angrily at your attacker. You immediately recognized the boy from earlier causing your features to soften a bit. 

“(Y/N) Riddle?” You gave a curt nod, not understanding how he knew your name. 

“I’m Malfoy. Draco Malfoy” He introduced himself, finally releasing his grip from your arm. Now you could comprehend why he looked familiar. He was the Lucius Malfoy’s descendant. They sort of had the same features. 

“Your father said that I’ll be accompanying you” The blonde informed you, eyes never leaving yours. You scowled turning your head in disbelief. 

“I don’t need protection” You snapped then looked at him up and down “And certainly not from someone like you.” 

Draco’s brows furrowed in confusion as he stared at you “What’s that supposed to mean?” 

“I can handle myself” You clarified. You gave a short laugh, turning around to where the Beauxbatons students were supposed to stay. Then you felt his hand grip your arm again before you groaned in exasperation. 

“Trust me, Princess” He whispered in your ear. His hot breath trickling down your neck made you shiver “You’ll be needing my protection.” Once he pulled back, you let out a breath you didn’t even know you were holding in. 

“They say you’re the Slytherin Prince” You quipped, raising a brow “My father’s the heir of Slytherin” 

Draco lips etched into a smirk.

“Would you like to be my Slytherin Princess?” His smirk grew wider as he took another step towards you, your bodies touching lightly “My Dark Slytherin Princess.” 


Months have passed and you and Draco were now the best of friends. You were still mean to everyone— that’s why you two got along so well. You were strolling the magnificent halls of Hogwarts, beaming at the beautiful castle. The Academy was lovely as well but not like this. The castle was glorious, the black lake was glistening in the sun like diamonds and everything else felt more magical here. Maybe you could ask your father if you could transfer next year. 

You had reached the courtyard and spotted a crowd filling the corner. Curiosity filled you as you made your way towards them. You shoulder accidentally bumped Harry Potter, who was grinning widely. Like your father, you despised Potter. How could a baby defeat someone as powerful as your father? You glared at him before your attention was snapped back to the scene. 

You had discern ‘Professor Moody’ who you knew was Barty Grouch Jr. You knew this information because you were always by the dark lord’s side even if he wasn’t in his full form. You also see a white ferret floating in the air.

The ‘Professor’ was motioning his wand up and down, the ferret bouncing similarly as it floated. You giggled catching the professor’s attention. He gave you a small smile that was almost invisible. 

“Professor Moody!” yelped Professor McGonagall, coming into view “What are you doing?”

“Teaching.” He answered. You snickered, causing Professor McGonagall to give you a look. 

“I-is that a— is that a student?” She questioned Barty Moody.

“Technically it’s a ferret” He quipped. You were smiling so much it felt like your cheeks were burning. 

Moody pulled Crabbe’s pants and placed the ferret in it. Laughter was heard as Draco’s friends were trying to get the ferret out. Which reminds you; where was Draco?

“Here you go deary” ‘Moody’ winked at you, levitating the ferret in your arms. You squealed and encircled your arms around the small creature. It was adorable, really. The ferret cuddled into your arms in fear, earning a smile from you. But your delight was soon ruined by Professor McGonagall who casted a spell on the ferret. You unwillingly dropped it because of the sudden weight gain and suddenly it transformed into….Draco?

So that’s where he went. 

His hair and clothes were all messy as he panted in fright. It was still amusing to watch. 

“My father will hear about this!” He threatened, angering the ‘proffesor’, who chased him around the tree. You rolled your eyes, grabbing Draco’s arm and left the scene, his gang running ahead. You heard McGonagall scolding ‘Moody’ as you both sat down on one of the short walls in between two pillars. 

“Stupid big eyed freak” Draco muttered, fixing his dress shirt and tie. You couldn’t help but giggle recalling what had happened. The slytherin prince glared at you causing you to finally stop and let out a breath. 

“That wasn’t funny”

“Oh yes it was, Mr. You need my Protection” You laughed, eyes squinting. Draco would never admit it to you, but he loved the way you show your genuine smile. It was unlikely that you showed a real smile to anyone else. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” He asked, finally having decent looking attire. 

“The way you nestled in my arms” You teased, pushing him a bit “Looked like you were using me as a cushion of protection”

“I was cold” He lied, looking at anywhere but you “besides, he wouldn’t hurt you. You’re his favourite beside Potter”

“oh look it’s the Slytherin Prince with his Slytherin Princess!” One of the Weasley twins called out. You rolled your eyes. You weren’t even attending this school! but most of the students had predicted that you were Voldemort’s daughter— given your last name and your knowledge on the dark arts. 

“Bow down before the dark ones!” The other twin bellowed jokingly. Soon they left, making you sigh in relief. You could see that Draco didn’t fix his hair. You smiled and soothed it down. Despite the constant teasing and the pleasant and not dangerous at all events, you and Draco had made a connection you knew you’d never get rid of. 

“Just so you know, Professor Moody isn’t Professor Moody” You stated “He’s one of my father’s death eaters” Draco turned to you wide eyed causing you to smile again. You leaned forward, kissing his cheek before you stood up. 

“Come on then” You pulled out your hand “The Dark Ones must cause havoc” 

You, Me, Us (Part III)

 Mystic Messenger Angst Fic

You, Me, Us: Part I | Part II |  Part IV | FINALE | Es&Es

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR ALL THE SUPPORT ❤  I really really really appreciate them, guys!! TTvTT Here’s the second to the last part for ya’ll!


  • Spoilers for Zen’s After Ending and Seven Route (minor) 
  • Trigger warnings (emotional abuse, psychological trauma)

He will never leave you. 

A storm was coming in, and this time the news agreed with you. 

The moment you’d decided you needed fresh air, you knew it was a terrible idea to go for it today of all days. The sky was dark when you came out, but you’d always loved it when it rained. 

But you never expected a thunderstorm. 

You regret going out even more when you returned and Byeol, your precious golden retriever was waiting earnestly for you by the door, terrified by the roaring thunder. He’d bounded up to you and licked your face clean of rain, replacing it with saliva. Despite yourself, you laughed at his affectionate welcome. 

Now both of you were warm and dried, well away from the storm raging beyond the four walls of your small apartment. 

Everything was otherwise silent, save for the sound of the television as you watch Zen, surrounded by flashing cameras, various microphones and avid fans. 

His career was skyrocketing now that he’d signed for a major motion picture. It was his first. Zen was averse to cinematics before, but now he welcomed it. 

Good for him, you think sincerely. At least one of you was rid of the other’s ghost. It wasn’t right to be a chain on his neck forever. 

The reporter gushed about how handsome he was and how he was fit for the role. Zen smiles what you think is a dazzling smile. You could only look at him from an outsider’s–a stranger’s point of view now. 

Your last memory of his face was the husk of the man he was, and it didn’t help that until recently, you lapsed back into darkness at the sight of his face in pictures. You thought you’d gotten better when you started to be able to watch him as his videos flitted through the news or in commercials. 

It was the second time today you were reminded of the difference between having a screen split two people and having nothing but a table or a sea of people between you–because you’d almost blacked out when you looked back and saw Zen behind you.

Zen was as he always was, surrounded by his beloved fans, hands outstretched, your name on his lips. Your name tore the sky in half as he screams, desperate to have you hear him–to stop for him. 

But you didn’t. Had you stopped, you’d have killed him twice and he’d have smashed you thrice when he finds out you’d lost your voice since that night. 

As it turns out, you too, are as you always were. Surrounded by chains on your neck and locks in your chest. 

You will not meet him like this. You will not let your silence destroy any more than it already did. 

But then again, how do you ask broken glass not to pierce anyone who dares touch it? 

“Woof!” Byeol barks and you snap out of your trance. A series of beeps now replaced the silence of the room after you realized you’d turned the television off. 

Ping! At the next few notification sounds, Byeol jumps off the bed and bounds towards the corner, curiosity getting the better of him. He stares closely at the screen, turns to look at you and then looks back at the phone when it beeps again. 

It’s quite active today, you think as you crawl to that end of the bed. 

You find yourself chewing your lip at the thought of being the subject of conversation. Things hadn’t ended well with Saeran today, either. 

The expression on his face as you avoided his touch like a plague hammers you with guilt. He didn’t deserve to be treated that way. The guy had paid for your ice cream and even promised not to tell anyone he’d seen you. But then again, that was before you stormed out of the shop and left your only means of communication in your haste. 

You figured Saeran would know more than anyone else what boundaries were, but you weren’t sure as to what the thresholds of meddling and concern were at this point either. 

A bad idea it was to go out, indeed. 

Byeol nuzzles your wrist as you pick the phone up and stare at the notifications until V’s name pops up.

V’s back. He hasn’t been online since he went to Alaska a few weeks ago. You glance at Byeol, who was now behind you, his head resting over your shoulder as if he could read the words. 

Should I say hi, Byeol? You ask him as if he could reply to you. 

So against your better judgement, you log into the chatroom and breathe a sigh of relief to see only Yoosung and V online. 

–MC has entered the chatroom–

Yoosung: Oh. 
V: Welcome, MC! ^^
Yoosung: OoHoH!!!!! MC! MC’s Herre!!!!!
MC: Hey, Yoosung! Hi, V! It’s been such a long time since I’ve seen you around here.
Yoosung: Omg MC, I missed you  ╥﹏╥ 

You feel yourself smile at Yoosung’s unchanging attitude towards you. He was going to become a veterinarian soon, and still he manages to be so cute. 

MC: I missed everyone too! I’m still sorry I couldn’t make it to the RFA party.  ㄒoㄒ
V: That’s alright. ^^ Although I was expecting to see you after such a long time. 
Yoosung: I was too!  ╥﹏╥ I feel like it’s been years since I’ve last seen you in person, MC. 
V: That’s true. How are you, MC? How’s Hyun? 

Barely two minutes in and the conversation was already out of your hands. V didn’t know. He was barely online the whole time he was touring, and when he was, neither you nor Zen were ever in the same chatroom. 

Yoosung: Zen’s going to star in a movie now! I should get his sign before he becomes too famous!
MC: You should! ^^ Although I don’t think Zen will forget the RFA even if he goes off to Hollywood.
V: Of course he wouldn’t. I’m sure he’d give you his sign even then, Yoosung. ^^
Yoosung: Really? He hasn’t been around the chatroom recently so I don’t know… 

[That’s my fault,] you wanted to type. But you doubt that would make things better. 

MC: He’s just busy, Yoosung. I’m sure he’ll come back to the chatroom soon.
Yoosung: MC… 
Yoosung: You always say that. I know it’s to make me feel better and I’m glad you do 
Yoosung: But who makes you feel better? 
V: Yoosung? 

Your fingers had frozen over the screen.

Yoosung: You should know too, V. You don’t have to be online all the time to notice.
V: … 
V: … I didn’t think it was so bad that you say this. 
Yoosung: It is. It’s a scene I’ve seen before too..

Oh, Yoosung. Behind you, Byeol whimpers and nuzzles your cheek. You reach up to caress his ear, feeling tears building on the corners of your eyes. 

Yoosung: I may not be very reliable yet, but I’m going to be someone great soon, so!!
Yoosung: So I hope you rely on us too.  ○^▽^○
MC: Yoosung…
V: MC. I’m glad that you care for the members over yourself. But please always remember that we care about you too.
V: I’ve made the mistake of trying to take everything on myself once. 
V: Didn’t work out very well, did it? It takes strength to carry yourself but even more so, it takes courage to rely on others.
V: I may not always be online, but give me a call or have Saeyoung call me and I’ll be sure to talk to you. ^^

What have I done to deserve such people? 

Your fingers are frozen over the screen, and for a few seconds, you imagine yourself telling them–of what had happened, of what you were going through, of what you have yet to overcome…

But you couldn’t. Not yet. 

MC: Yoosung… V… Thank you.
MC: You have no idea how your words comfort me 
MC: But I’m okay. I’m not at my best, but I’ll be fine, I promise you that. 
Yoosung: MC…
Yoosung: Okay, I won’t push you! I don’t want to make you sadder. I like you best when you’re happy!
V: Seconded! ^^ 

–Unknown has entered the chatroom–

Yoosung:  ◯Δ◯∥
Yoosung: OMG;; SaeYouvhbg! CAll SaeYiuGn11!
Yoosung: HACKER!! 
V: Is that you, Saeran? 
Yoosung: V, aRw Your Eys still not hood> ThT isnt Saeran!!!
Unknown: You type like my brother. Are your eyes okay? 
Unknown: Hey, V.  

Saeran. You were willing to log out before he could address you or your issues, but you didn’t want to be rude to him, either. 

He was a lot better than he was a year and a half ago, but it still made you queasy–the idea of hurting him. He’d been through so much.

MC: Hello, Saeran. ^^
Unknown: MC. You’re here. 

What do I say to that? You sigh and feel Byeol get off your back. He must have gotten bored at the conversation he couldn’t understand.

MC: Why is your username like that? 
Unknown: I hacked into the messenger. 
Yoosung ◯Δ◯∥ WHY???
: What are you brothers up to?
Unknown: Hide and seek.
MC: Hide and seek? Is that a code word or something?
Unknown: Maybe.

You said once that you liked Saeran sociable. But you weren’t very sure you liked him sarcastic and vague. Although you’re the very epitome of vague. 

MC: That name reminds me of the very first chatroom. ^^; It’s very strange. 
Unknown: Strange?  
Unknown: But It fits. 
Unknown: Like a personal warrant to crash through windows  
Yoosung: WHAT?  ◯Δ◯∥  
: Saeran.. ^^; Is it really Saeyoung you’re playing with?
Unknown: :) 

Did Saeran just use a smiley face?

Unknown: Don’t worry. I only do that when people don’t answer the door. 
Yoosung: TAT’S sO CReEPy SAERAN!! 

Oh this is so not good. 

MC: Are you two watching horror movies? You’re trying to scare us aren’t you? Too bad my house doesn’t have a doorbell. 
Unknown: Really?
Unknown: You shouldn’t lie. 
Unknown: Bad things happen to liars, MC. (like becoming his assistant) 

–Unknown left the chatroom–

Byeol barks and bounds towards the door, a low growl on his throat. 

Oh my God, no. You refused to be part of some cheap thriller movie. 

Your phone vibrates with a sound familiar, but different from the rest. You exit the chatroom with a hasty goodbye and open your messages, the feature you hadn’t used in a while. 

Upon tapping on the messages icon, you find a message from Unknown. 

[Care to let me in?] Oh God, NO

The doorbell rings, elliciting a more ferocious bark from Byeol, whose hackles were now raised, ready to tackle whoever stranger tried to attack you.

Slowly, you get off the bed and make your way towards the door. You pat Byeol’s head, urging him to stand down. 

Your phone vibrates again and the message now reads: [Ten seconds, MC. Or I’m breaking down that window.]

You all but yank the door open. 

Lo and behold, Saeran was there wearing a pretty damned determined face. 

“Hello, MC.” 

[How did you find me?!] 

The scene would have been a lot more terrifying had you actually screamed at him, but the sight of you trembling, red-faced as you thrust the device to his face was more cute than intimidating. 

“We’re hackers, MC.” Is all Saeran says before his eyes move to survey the apartment. 

It was small, quaint, bare save for the necessities. The dog he’d only found out you had was between the two of you, still cautious but more curious by the wag of his tail. 

He looked smart and perfectly capable of biting someone’s arm off. It was a small comfort to Saeran that you weren’t completely alone these past few months. 

But still, he didn’t like that he’d let you live like this in your condition. He’d led you to an apartment with a bomb once, and still he felt this old, barely secure apartment in a questionable neighborhood worse.  

[You’ve been hacker twins even before I disappeared and still you couldn’t find me until today.] 

Raising an eyebrow, Saeran meets your intense gaze from over the phone. “We’d have found you if we worked together.”

A questioning look passes over your face before you mask it with annoyance.

[What do you mean?]

Saeran shrugs and moves further in. The gold-furred dog barks, but you were quick to calm it down. Saeran glances at the dog, sits on his haunches and holds out his hand. 

Slowly, the dog approaches him. It sniffs at his hands first, then licks it. Seconds later, the dog was on his back with Saeran scratching at his tummy. 

“What’s his name?”

[Byeol. And you haven’t answered my question.]

“Any particular reason you call him a star?”

A shadow passes over your face, but you’re quick to hide it. Saeran files away that particular information in the back of his head.

Sighing, Saeran motions towards the phone on your hand. “Did you ever wonder why the messenger app was on your phone when you bought it, MC?”

You did. Saeran could see that much in your eyes. “Did you ever wonder why Saeyoung, who could hack into countries, couldn’t find a single girl anywhere in the country?”

[It’s happened once before.]

“It did. And who was it that stood on equal ground with the RFA’s 707?”

At his final question, you were considerably pale. Saeran could see the pieces fall into place by your expression and by the end of it, you were sitting on the floor, Byeol shooting up to nuzzle your cheek. 

[It really was you, then?]

Saeran nodded, electing to take a seat a few feet across you. “You’d suspected it was me?”

[I did. I thought it was Saeyoung too. But it didn’t make sense at the same time.]

[I mean, why would you hide me?]

[If the members ever found out that you’d been the one hiding me, then conflict will arise.] 

“That’s why I had to log in as Unknown.” Saeran began. “It’s difficult to explain, but if anyone other than my brother were to look at traces of the bot, or of my location right now, all of it would point to someone nonexistent–someone unknown.”  

He watched you process all the information whilst brushing your hand over Byeol’s fur. You’d been averse to touching Saeran, and yet you’re able to touch the dog. It made him even more curious as to Byeol’s role in all this. 

[So it was you too? The one who installed the messenger on this phone?] 

Saeran nodded, glancing down at the phone he had no trouble hacking into. “I’d done it once. It posed no problem to do it again.”

[Why did you have to go this far, Saeran? You could have just told them where I was.]

You watch Saeran’s face fall. He looks away from you, the bob of his throat nervous. 

“I wanted to help you.” He begins. “That day, I knew something was going to go wrong, but by the time Saeyoung and I arrived at your house, you were already gone and so was Zen.” 

You wince at the memory of that night and bat the darkness away, focusing only on Saeran’s words. 

“That very night, Saeyoung went to search for Zen and I was the one who looked for you.” Saeran’s voice dropped to a harsh whisper. “I found you, MC. And you were…”

Utterly, completely broken. He never says the words, but you know. He and his brother had genius abilities beyond your comprehension. It was no doubt that he’d found you even in such a rundown hotel. 

“I knew I couldn’t tell anyone where you were or what I saw. I thought to wait until you yourself came back and tell them what happened.” Saeran took a deep breath, running a hand through his hair. “But you didn’t.”

No, you didn’t. The next morning, you’d woken up and tried to talk, but found yourself unable to speak. Mirae, the receptionist back then, had been the one to witness you break down into a mess of tears and grief.

“A month passed, and still you didn’t come back. Before I knew it, I was up against my brother, blocking all the avenues he would think to look.” Saeran shook his head. “I shouldn’t have done such unnecessary things. If I had then you wouldn’t have had to suffer alone like this.”

He’s beginning to blame himself. 

Looking down at Byeol, you motion for him to go to Saeran and he immediately follows, proceeding to nuzzle Saeran’s cheek in a way that surprised him. The younger Choi twin looks up at you and reads your reply: 

[Thank you.]

[Had you let Saeyoung find me, I’m sure I’d have forced myself to leave the country.]

“You can’t.” Saeran says softly. “You can’t just disappear again, MC.”

[I won’t.]

His eyes widen, surprised at your answer. 

[Leaving would just make things worse, with me or with the RFA. This mess started here, and it would have to end here.]

[I just need a bit more time to get myself together.]

You lower your phone, waiting for Saeran’s answer. If he insists to take you to a doctor or a therapist, you’d have to ask him to leave. If he asks about what happened that night… You’d still have to ask him to leave and keep your secret. 

“Then come with me.” 

Your eyes snap to his and find that he’s completely serious. “Stay with us, MC. Until you figure out what you want to do or where you want to go, stay with us.”

You pick your phone up to type your reply and find yourself staring blankly at the white box. 

If you said no, Saeran would leave. You knew that much. He cared for you and your wellbeing and he wouldn’t take you against his will. 

And then what? You’ll live as a runaway again? 

The idea sat sour in your stomach. You hadn’t reaized the weight that had gotten off your chest when you opened the door to reveal Saeran and only Saeran, with no medical team or paperwork or a broken Zen on his heel. 

But who makes you feel better?

It takes strength to carry yourself but even more so, it takes courage to rely on others.

Yoosung and V’s words echo in your head and you type your reply with their advice in mind.

You’d grown used to a silent house with only Byeol and the noisy voices in your head at night. It was lonely, but safe. 

But what you needed wasn’t safe. What you needed was freedom. And you weren’t going to find it here.


Saeyoung was a blur as he ran from the end of the hallway, only to stop right in front of you, crying and laughing at the sight of you. His hands hovered over your face, your clothes, close but never touching you.

Saeran must have told him, you think. 

“MC.” Saeyoung called your name and you exhaled the breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. Tears burned a trail over your cheeks and you muster a small smile. 

Before you left, Saeyoung had been your closest friends. The twins had been the last memories of warmth that night, and once again you wonder if your decision back then had been right.

“I heard what happened, MC.” Saeyoung’s golden eyes scan your face. “Your voice…”

You shake your head and reply through your phone:  [Saeran can be a blabbermouth now.]

PFFT. Saeyoung doubles over at the thought of his brother–angsty, edgy Saeran being a blabbermouth.

“You just wrote something funny about me, didn’t you?” Growled from the living room, your suitcase already gone from his hand. 

Byeol slipped through his legs and bound towards you, panting and waging his tail excitedly. You were glad he was the playful type of dog that adjusted well to his surroundings. Saeyoung squealed like a girl at the sight of your golden retriever and immediately goes to play with him. 

“Woof!” Byeol happily remarks as he pounces on Saeyoung who was only used to tiny cats, sending both of them to the floor. 

[Of course not.] 

“Bullshit.” Saeran remarks with a straight face before he nods behind him. “Come on. I’ll show you your room.”

He’s dead serious about making you stay here. 

“Unless you plan to stand there all day, because I’m not letting you change your mind.” Saeran said, crossing his arms over his chest. 

[That’s called kidnapping.] 

“It’s not kidnapping if no one knows or if you consent to stay.” Saeran says. “So, MC, would you prefer to brand me a criminal or a friend?”

Saeran smirks at your speechlessness and goes on inside, now sure that you’d follow him.  

“MC.” Saeyoung calls and you look at him as he sits on the floor, patting Byeol’s head. “He’s like that, and I’m like this… But we’ll take care of you.”

Words were what broke you. And although you couldn’t be fixed, his words provided unexpected comfort, like a breath of warmth on cold skin. 

You go on inside and see Saeran standing in front of an open door. He shows you the room where you’d be staying in. He informs you that his room was the first door on the left, and Saeyoung’s on the second on the right. The middle door is where all the computers and things you shouldn’t know about were. 

He spoke clearly, smoothly and quickly, but he stops speaking everytime a questioning look crosses your face. Saeran had always been perceptive but you were still surprised he noticed. 

Bathroom? He points towards the door at the end of the hallway and tells you to always lock the door because Saeyoung doesn’t know what knocking is in the morning. 

Cooking? He shrugs and says he cooks sometimes but never anything grand. You note that you’d be on breakfast duty. The thought is warm. You hadn’t cooked for anyone else since– 

Stop it, you scold yourself and squeeze your eyes shut. Byeol comes into the room at the right time and you pat his head before he makes himself comfortable on the bed.  

Saeran notes the change in your demeanor and asks if you were okay and you nod, but still he cuts his explanation short. .

“Get some sleep, MC.” Saeran says. 

Sleep claims you as soon as your head falls on the soft pillows. Byeol lies next to you, nuzzling your cheek. You think you dream of flowers and gardens and Byeol, sitting next to you on the grass. In your hands were two hearts, beautiful, vibrant, bright and unmistakably warm. 

You gingerly hold them close and pray your cold hands don’t destroy them.

Zen is a coward.

He tossed the keys to his motorcycle to the basket and entered his desolate apartment, cursing himself again and again for turning back at the last moment.

A coward. He was a damn coward. 

He’d seen you come out of Saeran’s car. Your face was expressionless, only changing when the dog he’d never seen before approached you. Saeran escorted you back into the house, out of Zen’s sight again.

He debated storming into the apartment, but then what? Can he risk seeing you today, knowing you’d just run again? 

Your face from that night flitted across his mind, burning a trail of fire on his chest. Yes, you would run. You would leave and never look back if he forced himself upon you. 

Then where would that leave him? 

So he turned his motorcycle around, racing through thunder and lightning and rain, putting as much distance between you and him. 

Worse of it all was that he himself didn’t know why he was doing this–for whom? Was thinking of you now out of guilt? Shame?

Did he want you back because he couldn’t stand this yawning gap or was it something else? Something that should be more important than trying to get back the diamonds he’d thrown in exchange for shiny rocks?

Did he run from that apartment to keep you safe? Or was it just because he couldn’t stand you running away from him like he was a monster? 

Zen was a coward for turning around and running away. 

But he was more a coward because he knew the answer to his questions–he just admitted none of it.

Before he slept on that huge cold bed though, he thought of how he could choose to be blind; to choose confusion over emptiness.

Did you?

The next days at the Choi residence was, in a few words: dramatically chaotic.

The first day, Saeran and Saeyoung had fought over cooking breakfast, resulting to semi-burnt omlettes with crushed honey buddha chips poking out of it.  

The second day, Saeyoung tried to get you to go out with him to the grocery, only to have Saeran call him stupid for forcing you to do things you didn’t want to do. To comfort the Saeyoung who’d resorted to tearing paper shreds at the corner of the apartment, you hesitantly agreed to go. 

Exhausted, you’d come home to Saeran starting another argument because Saeyoung had brought home one too many grocery bags home and not enought ice cream.

The third day, Vanderwood came to visit and popped so many veins at the amount of torn paper and fur around the house. You offered to help him (because a fourth of the mess was from your dog, the rest are Saeyoung’s), but he politely declined and told you to cook something that didn’t involve monstrous chips and eggs instead.

You breathed a sigh of relief as everyone seemed to appreciate your cooking. You’d been assigned to cooking duty since then and you agreed. You had offered to pay rent, but the twins wouldn’t have it. The storm had also let up that day, allowing Byeol his first walk around this neighborhood

The fourth day, Saeyoung brought out the console to the living room, dragging you and Saeran out of your rooms to play. You realized how frustrating it is not to be able to tell Saeyoung he sucked for a genius hacker without taking your hands off the console. 

Your chest felt full when you slept every night, and you wondered if this was what it felt like to have brothers. 

“How is she?” The elder twins asks as Saeran returns to the living room after putting you to bed. You’d fallen asleep with Byeol on the couch, screaming and gore blasting from the tv when the twins came home.

“I still wonder how she screams when she watches horror. Is it soundless or is it all breathy?” Saeyoung remarks, fidgeting with MC’s phone and thus unable to notice the pillow Saeran had thrown until it was square on his face. 

“Sonnuvabitch,” Saeran growled at him before slumping down on the sofa. 

“Already knew that~” Saeyoung said with a slightly pained singsong voice. 

“To answer your first question: she’s sleeping soundly. Byeol fell right back to sleep beside her, too.” Saeran says, staring at the muted television. 

“That dog’s really something, isn’t he?” Saeyoung laughs as he finishes tinkering with the smartphone. “He learns really quickly, and MC’s calmest when he’s around. How long has she had him?”

“According to CCTV footage, she returned home one night four months ago carrying a wet bundle of fur.” Saeran answers. “She most likely picked him up from somewhere.”

Saeyoung puts down the phone and leans back on the sofa. “A lost girl picking up a stray dog…”

Saeran rolled his eyes at his brother’s drama. “What do you think of her?”

“Well,” Saeyoung slides off his glasses and stares blankly at the ceiling. “She’s really pretty. She makes domestic stuff look sexy too–

Another pillow smashed into his face, this time with the force of Saeran’s hand smothering the older brother’s face. 

“I’m serious, stupid brother!” Saeran growls, wishing his brother had on his glasses so he could break them on his face. 

Saeyoung raises his arms in surrender, laughing whilst coughing, desperate for air. “I know! I was just,” he gulps in air. “I was just kidding.”

Another glare from the younger twin. Saeyoung laughs nervously and cleans his glasses with his shirt. 

“I think she’s better, actually.” Saeyoung says, a small smile on his face. “The last few times I saw her before that night, MC always had a guarded look on her face. Like a mask she wore skillfully.” 

Saeran’s heart clenches, remembering what he’d seen in the reflection of the mirror – how your tears stopped and your shoulders steadied. A skillful trick indeed. 

“Unlike then, her expressions are free. She can’t hide behind those masks anymore. Her body and mind recognizes that she’s got one less a way to express herself and compensates.” Saeyoung explains. “It quickly shows on her face when she’s angry or lonely. Fragments of smiles come by from time to time, too.”

“Is that a good thing?” Saeran asks more to himself than to his brother. 

He was surprised too, that first time he saw you in the ice cream shop. You said nothing at all, but your eyes spoke volumes, your expressions louder than your voice ever was. 

But then, would someone who’s only lived with masks be able to live without one? 

“Of course it’s not.” Saeyoung says, hands still as he stares at the black and yellow stripes of his glasses. “A blind man could sing of his greater hearing, but that doesn’t mean he feels nothing’s missing.”

[Is it still ‘lost’ if it doesn’t matter?]

He glances at the door to your room, wishing he could just barge in, shake you awake and take you somewhere safe. 

But Saeran was also just Saeran and he could not save you from yourself. 

“It does.” He mutters under his breath. “It does matter, MC.”

Today’s the ninth day of your stay in the Choi house. 

You woke up feeling light today, still unable to muster a huge smile or use your voice, but lighter in a sense that you’d had breakfast prepared for everyone by the time they were awake. 

Saeyoung had grinned and reminded you of the emergency button he’d installed on your phone for the nth time before he leaves to get supplies for his new invention. Five clicks on the home button, MC! 

Byeol had been restless, scratching at Saeyoung’s huge metal door, eyes pleading for a walk. You wanted to take him out, but someone also had to prepare lunch. 

Saeran patted a cookbook over your head as he entered the living room. His lip curled in a small smile as he offers to take Byeol off for his walk in exchange for a great meal.  

The Choi residence was empty, but it’s still so much brighter, warmer than the small apartment ever was. 

You decided to bathe before getting to work. Minutes after you dressed, everything went downhill.

You made the mistake of leaving the television on and once again there was Zen.This time though, it wasn’t an interview. It was a clip from one of his plays. 

And this was a play you know too well. 

Echo girl was there, with faux tears trailing down her cheeks and Zen envelopes her in his arms. His hand glides up, wiping the tears his lips couldn’t reach. 

Make no mistake, my love.” His voice reverberates over the stage, over the room, deep in your bones. “From now on to the end of my life, you are mine and I am yours.”

“While the sun rises from the East and sets in the West,” He caresses her cheek. “You are–”

You’d turned off the television, but it was too late. All too late.

You feel the ghost of his hand beneath your cheek as he reenacted the scene for you, his voice a warm whisper  over your cheeks. 

“Even when the sun rises from the West and sets in the East, my heart will never change.” 

You remember your name gently, sweetly flowing from his lips, in stark contrast to how it tore your heart, your soul, everything you believed in apart. 

The sun rises and sinks the same way it had always did, Zen. And yet you changed. And yet we changed. 

Again, you ask yourself the same question you fell asleep and woke up to everyday, bleeding yourself dry before having to start a new day.

When did it change? 

When was the first crack made, where was the point of impact, how much did it change? Could you have fixed it, could you have done anything to bring it back to what it was again, and if you couldn’t, would your effort have made a difference?  

The day you ceased turning a blind eye to the growing gap, to the whining crack, you were desperate determined to bring it back to what it was and that–


was your worst


What fragile line between you and me had blurred. In fear, either of you tried to get it back: 

One loving too much, the other loving less.

It did. Thank god, it did was all you thought the first days of living with it. 

But too late did you realize

nothing broken


the same 

what you had now was distorted – disformed, misshapen and soon– 

Dysfunction was what “us” meant.

“You are my sun, my moon and my stars. No matter how far apart we are, we’ll always think of each other.” 

Enough, you plead as you fall, not knowing up from down; no way of telling which is over and under. I beg you, Zen. No more

Phone in hand, you count to five, then to ten, anything to keep the darkness from coming. 

But it’s there, always there: watching, festering inside you. You close your eyes and there he is, sitting across you. 

Your lover, your ghost. 

And he will never leave you.  

A/N: Hey hey hey!!!!  ☆∀☆

*sighhhh* It’s passed my 5k mark AGAIN, so I hope you guys still read ‘til the end!!! 

I intended for this part to be the last, but I quickly found out how difficult it was to close a story.  ╥﹏╥ I didn’t want to just cut it down either.  0x0

So I hope you guys look forward to the final part, coming next week!! 

Thank you all again, for all your support! 

Because paradise is not evenly lined and all planned out;

Beauty lies in the chaos of the unexpected,

treated with love, respect, and curiosity!

- Alias

No Idea Why

I looked up,

back down.

I’m fascinated

by the fear

that frequents

our moments together.

No idea why.

I took a step,


ran back.


I’m cornered

by my curiosity,

for the way

that you could love me.

I’ve no idea why.

You shy away,

just like me,

though our hearts

have done marathons.

One wrong move

from a nervous mouth

can ruin a good thing

I suppose.

No idea why.


Savior - Peter Hale

prompt - peter finds a girl who’s been attacked in his car park, can he help save her after years of abuse
Pairing - Peter Hale x reader
Warnings - trigger, abused reader, detailed description of beating.
A/n - flash backs in italics, the is a detailed account of abuse reader suffers. 

You felt the rough stones and sharp glass in your feet as you ran, but the adrenaline and fear made it not hurt. Your lungs burnt as you forced yourself not to stop. It had been over ten blocks since you heard his voice, but you needed to keep running. If he’d caught you, you knew he would definitely kill you this time. You found an indoor car park something made you run in to hide and catch your breath. You saw a large bin, like the ones in the back of bars and restaurants, quickly hiding behind it. Once you stopped the pain of the beating your step father had given you was to come back. The cold night air ate at your skin, as you brought you knees to you chest using the dirty torn tee shirt to cover some of your legs. Without warning you start to cry a mix of pain and emotion. 

Peter got out his car locking it walking to the lift to his penthouse. He was about to press the button when he heard a heartbeat coming from the far corner of the car park. Curiosity got the better of him he walked towards the sound, the closer he got he could heard staggered breathing like someone was crying.
He called out “hello, who ever is here it’s privet property leave now” looking at a large bin. No one came out, Peter was about to say something else more threatening this time but stopped when he heard a voice “please don’t hurt me, please don’t hurt me, please don’t hurt me” over and over. He wouldn’t of heard the girls words if he didn’t have his werewolf hearing, it was burly a whisper.

When he looked the girl looked tiny, crouched up between the wall and the bin. He noticed bruises over her arms and legs, goose bumps covered her skin as he saw she only had a short sleeve tee-shirt on and her underwear. The girl wore no shoes and Peter could see the blood on the soles of her feet, guessing at some point she’s stepped on glass. He crouched down becoming more her level. His voice became softer “I’m not going to hurt you” he said. The girl looked up at him although she was 20 at the moment to peter she looked at lot younger, she was thin and looked malnourished her skin was pale under the patches of bruises old and new.  As she lifted her head Peter’s stomach turned when he saw the large bruise around her neck, like she’d been strangled with something.

“my name is Peter, I live here come with me I’ll help you” he said but the girl tensed up pushing her back more into the wall. Peter held out his hand, she looked at it his eyes then to his hand unsure to take his hand after a few seconds she weakly lifted her hand it looked so small in his. Once in his penthouse she stood by the door nervous. he gave her some clean warm clothes and pointed to the bathroom so she could get changed. after a few minuets she came out peter was waiting on the couch , a small bowl of warm water and a first aid kit was on the table next to a glass of water and 2 small glass of whiskey. he saw the way she looked at the table, “water to re-hydrate you, the whiskey one to warm you up and the other for me” he said with a smile trying to make her feel more comfortable. she still looked unsure, peter heard her heart beating erratically as she looked at him.

“come sit down” he asked. she hobbled over pain clear on her face as clenched her jaw and frowned her eyebrows. the was something about the way she forced herself forward peter admired, a type of strength. once she made the short walk to the couch peter helped her sit down.
She sat with the glass of water while Peter opened the first aid kit. When he looked at her foot he could see the glass wedged in. Taking the tweezers he looked at her “this may hurt a little” he said. She screwed her eyes shut, as he took out the glass. Peter spent the next 20 minutes cleaning up her feet guessing she needed stitches in one. While he was doing it he tried to talk to her ask her questions, her name, how old she was, where she lived, what happened to her but the whole time she never spoke.

When Peter looked at her wrist he suspected it was broken, “you have to go to the hospital with that I think it’s broke” he started saying. The girls pulled her arm from him “no!” she shouted in fear. Peter looked in surprise she spoke, “they can treat your arm and foot, you could call the police and tell them who did this to you” he said trying to encourage her. She shook her head “no! Please I can’t go the hospital no” she begged as tears fell from her eyes. For the second time tonight Peter’s heart broke for her and he watched her crying scared he was going to force her to go. He bent down on one knee placing his hands on her arms “hey, hey, hey its okay i can’t make you but you need to see a doctor” he said as his mind raced with other ideas.

“What if I get a someone I know to come here who could help” he asked hopeful. The girl nodded going back to not talking again, Peter took out his phone looking for a number walking to the kitchen. Before he left the room he looked at her “and after we get you fixed you maybe we can help get you home” he said disappearing calling Melissa McCall. When he finally got though to her, and convinced her to come over he went to go back to the girl. He stopped at the door when he saw her, she was crying again her body shaking as she held herself. He could hear her muttering the same thing over and over “don’t make me go back, don’t make me go back”

The day had come, the day you couldn’t take anymore and needed to leave. You had it planned you just waited for everything to fall in place. Your step father usually took a drunken nap in the late afternoon, you gave him his drink and got in the shower knowing by the time you got out he’d be asleep. 

Out the shower you listened to the loud grunts and snoring knowing he was asleep. You rushed to your room putting on your underwear and a tee-shirt, this was your first mistake! You didn’t finished getting dressed instead rushed around the room gathering a few things placing them into a bag.

Your second mistake in your rush was not listening for him to wake. You get your pants off the bed about to put them on when a voice makes you jump “and what are you doing?” your step dad says his words slurred and angry as he looks at your packed bag. “I’m… I’m going to stay with a friend for the night” you say. He laughs at you stepping into the room, you hated when he laughed it usually meant he had already decided to hurt you, “don’t lie, you don’t have any friends”

This was true you really didn’t, he made sure of it, never allowing you to go out the door. The only people you classed as friends was the girl from the supermarket you spoke with twice a week while shopping and the old man who lives in your street. “Jane from  the supermarket she’s invited me” you try to cover but his twisted grin told you he didn’t believe it.

He took a step forward raising his hand smacking you with a powerful back hand, “don’t fucking lie to me” he screamed. You started to cry holding your face, you didn’t know what to say so kept quiet but that only made it worse, as he punched you this time. He grabbed you hair pulling your head back till you was calling out in pain “I said don’t fucking lie to now where was you going” he voice steady and calm.

You heard the jingle of his belt undoing, gulping knowing what was coming next “I’m not lying I promise” you try to plead knowing he loves your fearful begging, hoping he would leave you physically alone. You felt the buckle slam down on your leg making you drop to your knees. Before you could even move you felt the belt around your neck. He looped it through the buckle pulling on the holed end of the leather belt until you was choking.

He started kicking you while still holding the belt, calling you a list of foul names like bitch, slut, cunt. You wasn’t listening to him struggling to loosen the belt from your neck as he kicked you like a ball. What happened next was still a bit of a blur, as you fought against passing out from lack of oxygen, you felt his feet hitting your back, chest, arms legs it had gone on for over ten minutes, you kicked you with your feet screaming for him to stop. One of your kicks hit him as he lifted his leg to kick you sending him off balance. He feel over the stool in your room hitting his head on the table. He wasn’t knocked out but dazed using the last bit of strength you had, you ran downstairs and out the door not daring to look back as he called your name runner after you. Your final mistake not grabbing your bag as you ran out into the cold.
End flashback

Peter’s voice broke you from the terrifying memory “help will be here soon” he said sitting by you but not too close.
Peter sat not really know what to do or say so he kept quiet, The bell to his apartment went he opened the door, Melissa gasped at the sight of the girl on the sofa. “what did you do?” Melissa turned to peter. “I found her this way” Peter protested with his hands up. 

Melissa walked over to you smiling as she crouched down “hi I’m Melissa McCall, what’s your name” she asked as she looked you over. You didn’t answer her still feeling nervous about who she and even Peter was. “she’s not talking I think she’s still in shock” Peter said after you blanked Melissa. “well I wouldn’t talk to you ether” she joked but a hint of realism there.

You frowned at her remark but not thinking much more. “your right, her wrist is definitely broken and I think her leg could be fractured too” she said pointing to a large bruised area. “what can we do to help her” Peter asked looking at you with a sweet smile. “I need to take her the hospital so I can set the wrist right she need am x-ray” Melissa told him.

Before to could react Peter did “no! She didn’t want to go before it terrified her when I wanted to take her I promised her we wouldn’t go. Can’t you just fix it here” he told her “no I need an x-ray and possible fluids for her” Melissa argued back. Everyone sat or stood in silence both Melissa and Peter thinking. Peter finally speaking “the vets they have an x-ray machine, it’s empty” without looking at Melissa response, Peter looked at you “is that okay with you” he asked.
You thought it over, but nodded yes knowing the was no other option if you didn’t agree to this they you make you go to hospital. Melissa went out the room to make a call and Peter walked over to you. “if you don’t want to go or it’s too much for you just let me know I’ll stop I don’t want you to pressured” he said. Peter’s hand touched your arms as he spoke his thumb caressed the back of your hand. No one had done this before, showed you this level of kindness and affection or made you feel safe. 

He looked up and went to stand when she didn’t answer him, still wishing she’d talk to him, trust him. “y/n” he heard before looking her in the eyes again “ my name is y/n” her voice timid and shaky. Peter smiled “pretty name” for the first time he saw a faint sad smile on her face. Melissa came back interrupting your mini moment telling Peter Scott would meet you all at the vets.

At the vets Melissa looked you over better before doing the x-ray she was persistent in doing, she’d tried to talk to you on request of peter who was now stood behind you. every now and then placing a hand on your shoulder or reassuring you. peter and Melissa left the room ready to take and look over the x-rays pictures. Melissa looked at the pictures with a grim look on her face “what?” peter asked her, she handed him the picture although peter didn’t really know what he was looking at or for. Melissa pointed out a lot of white markings on the x-rayed bone, “there all past brakes and fractures, she’s ether the unluckiest girl in the world or shes been abused for years” she told him. peter looked sad through the glass in the door at y/n “maybe both” he muttered slowly piecing together what happened to y/n. 

when they come back in the room Melissa told you, your wrist was defiantly broke and your leg was badly bruised, you knew something was off she could hardly look at you. she set your wrist putting a cast on it, this time not so talkative as before. After she finished Melissa looked at Peter, “I’m going to get her some painkillers and antibiotic’s, please don’t do nothing stupid while I’m gone” she ordered him, then left.

“I sense some bad blood there” you say once she’d gone. Peter smiled, “your talking again, why not to her” he asked walking to you also changing the subject not wanting you to think he was the monster others saw him as. “she still makes me nervous” you tell him. he frowned his brows a bit, confused “she looks like the type of person who would do the right thing but it makes it worse for me, like sending me home” you tell him. peter laughed “your right the is a moral code the McCall’s live by but don’t worry I’m not so black and white” he joked. peters face turned stern knowing you wasn’t going to like his next question. “I’m guessing all this happened at home?” he said pointing at your injuries, you looked down not sure what to say so slightly nodded your head. “my step father” you feel your voice shake, “hes done it for years since I was about 8 after my mother died”
peter put his arm round you shoulder calming you as you told him everything from the day he first hit you after you came home late from school to what happened earlier today. you didn’t know why you told him, you hardly knew him but felt a connection with the older man, a sense of trust. “your not going back!” he told you, “you can stay with me till you find somewhere away from him”
he also felt a type of connection to you but put it down to you needing help. After Melissa had come back and left again Peter asked you again if you was sure wanted to stay with him, after agreeing you got in his car. on the way back to his apartment peter wanted to stop at a garage to fill his car and get a few things from the shop. You waited in the car not wanting to face people looking how you did right now, a tap on the window made you scream.

your step father was on the other side of the glass looking at you. “get out of that car now y/n” he screamed. you looked at the shop still not seeing peter, A louder harder knock rapped on the window “out not you little bitch” he said again this time picking a rock up off the ground. You shook your head no, too scared to move when the rock came through the passenger side window. he opened the door from the inside dragging you out the car. You tried kicking and screaming to get away but couldn’t, he was too strong and overpowered you. He dragged you in the closest alleyway keeping you of the streets, you know you was heading home it wasn’t that far 5 maybe 6 blocks away. “how dare you think you can leave me, you know your going to need a new special form of punishment for this” he told you dragging and pulling you by your hair.

Peter hadn’t heard anything outside, the music in the garage shop was too loud, even with his wolf hearing it was still all he could hear. When he got outside and saw the car empty with a smashed window he started to panic. The was something about y/n he liked, he couldn’t explain it but all he knew was right now he needed to find her. He dropped his bags next to the car and ran following her sent. It didn’t take long for Peter to hear her screams as he ran a block finally seeing her. He’s eyes flashed werewolf blue when he saw you was being dragged by your hair. Peter was a lot of things but this disgusted him, Peter let out a load roar before running to them.

You saw Peter coming, you tried to call him for help only earning you a smack from your step dad. When Peter was next to you, your step dad throw you to the floor trying to square up to peter. “she’s just a little twat, why are you getting involved. Leave now and nothing will happen to you” your step dad threatened Peter. You looked at Peter who had an amused smile on his face, a smile that terrified you but right now you didn’t care you was already terrified. Peter turned his head to look at you “y/n, run! Go now” he told told you his voice still calm and smooth. You didn’t need telling twice, picking yourself up from the floor you ran back to where the garage was.

Peter waited a few minutes for y/n to go, then turned to the nasty vile man in front of him. “so you beat up girls, children, teenagers, girls who can’t defend themselves” Peter said menacingly taking small steps closing the gap. The man went to hit Peter, only for Peter to grab his hand before he could get hurt. “did you know you broke her wrist” Peter said as he uses his other hand to snap y/n step fathers wrist too. He cried out in pain only making Peter laugh, “you have also beaten her repeatedly” Peter said punching again and again him almost knocking him out with each one. The man begged for Peter to stop, “you want me to stop, end all this” Peter asked, the step father begged yes. Peter looked at him “very well” he said extending his claws and slashing the man’s throat in one motion.

You stood by the car not sure if you should go back and help Peter knowing the man your step father was, when Peter turned the corner. He walked over to you hugging you tight “are you okay?” the coolness he had before gone and almost a look of worry was there now as he made sure you was okay. “you don’t have to worry about him anymore he’s never coming to harm again” Peter told you, you saw a splash of blood on the arm of his jacket “did.. Did you kill him” you stutter out relief sinking in your step father was gone. “dose it matter if I did” he asked nervous to how you would react to him. You shook you head no, “let’s go home then” Peter said pointing to his car, home being his apartment. You sat in the car smiling it was all over the pain the fear, all of it thanks to your Savior Peter Hale.

My Love (D.O Kyungsoo Scenario)

Genre: Angst

Pairing: Do Kyungsoo / You

Rating: 12+

Prompt: “This feeling, it’s incredible. I don’t want to be the only one feeling it.”

Writer: monicaexol (My name is Monica)

Originally posted by yourbiaslikesitrough

Much to his dismay, his trip to visit his older brother had been cancelled. Not only this, but the contract he signed to star in a new k drama had been rejected and disapproved by his agency. He took the infrequent opportunity of an empty evening to stroll around his old town. He hadn’t been here for a long time now, yet he still remembered each and every corner of it. Now, he wasn’t sure how, but his feet tempted him in the direction of the forbidden cafe. That place of was off zones, for his own emotional safety.

His eyes traced the clouded sky, small droplets of unforgiving rain came sprinkling down, and as fate would have it, he had no umbrella. Moments later he found himself shifting into the small cafe, it was huddled onto the corner of the street. The bitter sweet scent of coffee roamed in the atmosphere. He wriggled his fingers through his chestnut hair as he took another step in, feet slightly shaking. His doe eyes pondered the place, examining the posters and pictures that hugged the old walls and leather booths that lined the outskirts of the room.

He noticed all the initials and names that were etched into any piece of wood that could be touched within reach, clearly the work of love struck teenagers. Bows and arrows, small hearts and a sea of X’s and O’s embedded on each table, chair and wall. This place should’ve made him feel sick, though nothing but nostalgia filled him.

After making a quick order for a plain coffee, he allowed himself to sit at one of the fragile tables. The touch of the cold surface below his fingertips caused him to shudder slightly, soon he warmed up to the feeling of the leather booth he was on, though something felt uncomfortable. He moved in his seat, moving his body around, he felt something hard and flat pushing at his back. Slowly he turned around, feeling the surface of the back of his seat. He was surprised to find a clean cut on the leather seat, a small diary pushed into it. Perhaps he shouldn’t have done what he was going to, but then again, Kyungsoo had done many things that he shouldn’t have.

The pitter patter of rain could be heard solemnly outside, though it was slightly muffled by the giggling of youngsters that were scattered inside the cafe too. The effect of brewing coffee added to the mixture of sounds, all the noises distracted him from his own thoughts. And before he knew it, he was opening the scratchy old diary.

Date: 08/11/2013 -

It’s been 3 hours that I’ve waited for him now. But I know he’s not going to stand me up, he hasn’t till now and promised he never will. Yes, sometimes I feel slightly ignored, slightly jealous when he’s filming with other girls, slightly nervous when he returns home late. But I know how he feels for me and these emotions I have just prove my feelings for him. And it’s okay, that’s love. Its a funny word, makes me feel all warm inside, I used to wonder what it meant till I figured that I would define it myself. Love stands for Letting Others View Emotions. And as the saying goes, when you love something, you must set it free. Love is something that gives you an escape, let’s others see the beauty that’s hidden within you and your partner. Love is real when you let it be. To me, it always has, still is, and shall continue to be.”

Perhaps reading this entry was a bad mistake, because now, Kyungsoo was angry. Who on earth is this person and why on earth are they so fixated on love? The thought roared in his mind, his plump lips formed a thin line. Unconsciously, he tapped his nails against the surface of the already tampered table. Then, he lifted the page over to find that there were no other entries. This was just an old abandoned diary. The sound of brewing coffee being poured into individual cups eased his mind, in a trace like state, he found himself pouring words onto the next blank page in the diary. Should he have? He doesn’t know.

Date: 18/11/2016 -

It’s been 3 years since she broke up with me now, I believed she’d never leave me, she’s been with me for so long and promised she never would. Yes, I feel empty, jealous when I see her with another guy, and hurt when I reach home. But I know how she feels for me and her lack of emotions towards me prove that I’m nothing to her. It’s not okay, it’s not love. The word makes me feel angry. I used to think that I knew what it meant till I realised it’s true definition. Love stands for Living On Vicious Emotions and as the saying goes, beauty is pain. Love is concealed in such unbelievable grace that it will put you in a trap making you think you can bear all its wrong doings. Love is real when you let it be. To me, it never was, never will, and can never be.”

The last drop of rain and Kyungsoos pen fell at the same time. His eyes brushed over the scruffy rampage that he had just let out, destroying the neatness of the page. A strange feeling of calmness came over him, the lingering smell of sweetness stuck in his nose. When he glanced over to the windows, he noticed that the sky had stopped crying. Perhaps it was time for him to leave, he nudged his forgotten coffee to the side before carefully slipping the diary back in its place.

A few days passed and he found himself edging towards the same cafe. The unfamiliar yet friendly faces welcomed him in as his paces towards his beckoning seat. And like roll call, he pulled his hand up to order for a coffee. And though he thought that it would be pointless, he began to pull out the old diary.

Kyungsoo wasn’t sure on how to react. Should he have been happy? Or shocked? At this moment he felt indecisive and felt both with a sudden pang. His eyes scanned the newly entered account, perhaps a reply to his own.

“Date: 22/11/2016 -

I wonder who hurt your poor little soul. I wish there were enough words to explain to you the realness of love. I don’t know who’s hurt you, but I do want you to know that there is someone else out there who wants to be with you. Please, don’t block that person out thinking that you’re blocking out this ‘hurtful’ love, let them teach you how healing love is. I had my wedding two days ago. And we stopped by here to get some coffee. The moment the words ‘I Do’ left his mouth, I felt my whole heart lift, almost as though it was literally joining with his. This feeling, it’s incredible. I don’t want to be the only one feeling it. Please, always stay happy. Don’t try and find love, let love find you.“

He felt a smile tug at his lips, a feeling of ease filled his heart. He hadn’t felt this way in a while. He lifted his pen.

Date: 28/11/2016 -

Congratulations new friend, I’m glad that you are now one with your other half. This love matter may not have worked for me, but I’m content that it worked for you. I only wish I had enough time to try and find my past love again, but it’s too late for that. This feeling of love, I hope it is real. I’ve been hit with too much pain in these past few years. Pain that I can’t describe in words. I had to attend her funeral a couple of days ago. It was as though she was a beautiful dream that I had just woken up from, she was there, then she was gone. I have never felt so alone in my life. I don’t know if I can move on from her. I can only hope that someone can find me, someone can rescue for from sinking in my own thoughts.”

A heavy tear from his eye and a lone droplet from the sky fell at the same time, the beginnings of a storm. The thought of her leaving not only him but this world had a huge affect on him. She was such a happy person, why Y/N, why? He stepped out of the cafe with the wind forcing its cold pressure against him, he didn’t know where he was walking, if only it was away from his sorrows.

A year had passed, but there was no change in this man. There used to be a heart shaped smile upon his lips, a deep chuckle used to flow from his honey voice, his eyes used to form moon like crescent shapes. But none of that had been seen for a while now. As fate would have it, the sky changed forms. He paced along the small road in search of shelter before the wreckless sky ruined his dry clothes. He saw that same cafe is the distance, and before he knew it, he was right at its doorstep.

A force of habit one could say, but he ordered the same plain coffee that he never drank. His feet made his way to his designated seat placing the coffee away in a corner. Perhaps it was curiosity that led his hands back to the covers of the diary before opening it. What he saw next was not what he wanted, not what he expected and definitely not what he approved. The ink was unknown and the handwriting, unfamiliar. Sloppy words slapped themselves onto the pages of the diary. An entry that almost seemed too ignorant to be allowed in the book. Kyungsoo felt the heat of anger in his cheeks, his ears turning a fuming red. What the hell? He thought. With wide eyes he began reading what was written.

“Date: 30/11/2016 -

She’s gone, my wife, she’s gone. My beloved Y/N left this world. I know you were at her funeral, she was the one who left you three years ago. Fate is cruel, you both didn’t realise that you were speaking to each other through this old diary. Simple words carrying heavy meanings scattered on these lifeless pages, yet they carried breath in each sentence. I can’t help but cry right now. This feeling… it’s… it’s agonising. I hate myself for not paying attention when she crossed the road. I hope that she can forgive me for being such an idiot of a husband. Do you know how useless I felt when I held her against my chest? Her final breaths against my cheeks, her last words “I will always love you.”

The blue ink slightly smudged on the page, at this point Kyungsoo wasn’t sure if it was due to his own tears or the writers. He felt a strong lump in his throat which he tried to clear by coughing. A mere squeak came from him, his state was evidently fragile, practically at breaking point. With shaking hands he continued reading.

“You’re Kyungsoo aren’t you? I’m Jin. I’m Y/N’s husband, yes I will continue to use that title until I feel that I should no longer do so. I know you’re wondering why she left you? Well, I met her in this very cafe. In this very seat, writing in this very notebook. We became friends and she told me how about how her boyfriend didn’t love her. Yes, you read right, she felt that you didn’t love her.”

Maybe he had misunderstood her. She didn’t leave because she wanted to, maybe he made her. He closed his eyes at the thought, scenes of their past edging into his thoughts.


Kyungsoo walked to the door of their apartment, the clicking of his hard heeled shoes against the wood of the floor beneath his feet echoed in all directions. He stood before the door that towered him. Where you awake waiting for him again? Maybe. Worry washed over him and he slid in his key to open the oak door.

Moments later, he was inside. The ticking of the old clock on the wall transitioned through the living room. His eyes met with your own sleepy ones, a small apologetic smile played on his heart lips as he swiftly walked in your direction. “Why did it take you so long?” You asked, curiosity running through your voice.

“Work, honey.” He replied as he simply lifted his hand to brush stray hairs from your face. You thought he was ignoring your request of an explanation. His finger twirled around a lock of your hair before his hand moved to rub sweet meaningless shapes on the side of your jaw.

Your eyes were still filled with confusion, which he read.

“Go to sleep.” The words jumped out of his mouth, he saw that look in your eye. He didn’t want another argument.

Solemnly you stood up, only to return out of the bedroom with two suitcases. This isn’t what he was expecting at all. His head felt more heavy than the two bags, the weight of his tears tempting to fall at any second. He looked at you with nothing but pure confusion.

“I’m going.” Was all you said, should he have stopped you? Maybe. Did he want to? Certainly. So why didn’t he? That is something that he can’t figure out even now.


His eyes return to trace over the heartfelt words on the fragile page.

“She said that the love you had for her began to fade, she felt that you payed more attention to your work, to your co stars, and to your fame. She loved you… and you almost broke her.”

Perhaps Kyungsoo knew that the tears had already fallen from his eyes, though he refused to believe it.

“As for me, I saw her walking into the cafe and knew that she was the one. One conversation led to another and then… we married. I didn’t know my treasure like happiness would only last a short while. In a sudden moment, she’d been snatched out of my hands. It hurts to feel the loss of love, it really does. But listen here, she told me that some day she’d find you, and explain why she left.”

A breathless gasp left his parted mouth. She really did want to explain. Small hushes rippled from the cafe, eyes were on him and his tears though he didn’t care.

"Now, I can only believe that fate brought the three of us together to explain ourselves. I guess I’m just a medium to let you know how dearly she wanted to be with you, so much so that she had to leave you. 'If you love something, set it free’ bring any memories back?”

It was as though Kyungsoo’s breath had been stolen from him each time he attempted to take it. The gushing wind silenced his paining heart, eyes still damp from crying.

"She set you free because those feelings didn’t fade for her. Did she love me? I hope she did, because my heart filled with contentment whenever she told me so. Still, I think there may have been someone else occupying a small corner of her heart. A soft spot. You. Your name was never mentioned, though you somehow meddled in between our conversations at random points. I’m looking back and wondering why on earth I didn’t try and bring you two together. It would have killed me from the inside, but thinking about it now, maybe if I did, she’d still be around. I wish. That’s all I have to say to you, I’m moving countries. I’m going to live by her words and wait for love to find me yet again, if it ever does. Maybe this time, my love will find me too?”

Looking back now, with his hand in Mia’s, he realises just how much he should thank you. Because you were right, he didn’t need to go looking for love, love found him. This time he walked to the cafe with a lady with him who loved him dearly. And as if instinct gripped him, he found himself moving towards his own seat. A play of childishness washed over him, giddily he grabbed a fork and started engraving his own name followed by a heart, and then Mia’s name.

A sweet laugh fell from her pink stained lips, so sweet that it may have caused the hot chocolate that was cupped in her hand to taste bitter. Then, he moved his hands to pull out the diary that he’d left. He brought one hand over to hers and rubbed reassuring circles onto the back of the smith skin on her hand, then he lifted his doe eyes to meet her kind gaze, a sincere smile spread on his heart shaped lips. He cleared his throat sending vibrations through the coffee infused air, before mixing in his own velvety voice.

“I love you Mia. Sometimes I worry that I don’t show it enough. Sometimes I get scared that you’ll leave me because I seem hostile. Sometimes I even think that you don’t love me because of my nature. But…” He opened the smooth page of the fading diary, his shining eyes traveled over the lightly written words of the page before landing on the ones that he wanted to say.

“But it’s okay, that’s love. Its a funny word, makes me feel all warm inside, I used to wonder what it meant till I figured that I would define it myself. Love stands for Letting Others View Emotions. And as the saying goes, when you love something, you must set it free. Love is something that gives you an escape, let’s others see the beauty that’s hidden within you and your partner. Love is real when you let it be. To me, it always has, still is, and shall continue to be.

He looked back at her, tears brimming his eyes. “These were the words of my last girlfriend Mia, her name was Y/N. You already know about her. I wanted to share this with you because she’s taught me so much, I don’t want to repeat any mistakes and lose you the way I lost her. Please, if I ever make you feel wronged, hurt, or bad in any way, just tell me. Yell at me. Scream at me. But please, let me know.

Because as Y/N said, it’s okay, that’s love.”

BTS: Stigma (Playboy Au)


Chapter ½

Chapter 3

  Here you are waiting for Taehyung in your button-up blouse and a maroon colored jeans at the cafe he wanted to meet. You came earlier than the set timing. It’s not that you are desperate or anything. You are just a punctual person. You decided it would be rude to order without him but your stomach didn’t wish to listen to your rational thinking. You ordered a coffee macchiato for both yourself and him. It’s the best seller here. So it can’t go wrong can it ?

  You opened up your mathematics lecture notes and start reading it. Hardworking you say. But there are people always better out there. Sipping onto the freshly brewed coffee, you waited patiently until a tap on your shoulders shook you out from the complex math formula you are trying to decipher.

  There he was, literally glowing under the sunlight that peek through the window. He stood there in a black pullover with a blue jacket draped over and ripped jeans, in his hands, a gucci brown leather clutch. That man was the definition of charm. You almost got a shock and regret walking out your house with minimal make-up and casual clothes.

Did you forget it was  a date ?!

  “Sorry. Did you wait long babe ?” Taehyung placed his hand over yours. And you immediately blushed. Hard.

  “Nope. I just got here. And i ordered a drink for you, i  don’t know if you like it though.” You shrugged.

  “Anything from you is fine.” He beamed, before whipping out his wallet.

  “How much?”

  “Oh it’s okay. My treat.”

  “As a man, its the least i can do so allow me.” He winks.

  Taehyung was really a gentleman, save for his flirtatious character, is this man even real ? You questioned. You feel self-conscious now. Does he even like me ? Or is he just being nice ? You don’t know.

  “Hey. This recent movie “Chasing the dragon” is really good. Want to watch ?“ Taehyung asked, half-munching on his nacho.

  "Oh. That! Sure. I always wanted to watch it since it was out.” You agreed immediately, without even thinking.

  “Great! I tot you girls wouldn’t like such action movies. I am impressed.” He smirked.

  “That stereotype of yours need to change. I always love such action and thriller movies. Even horror.” You straighten your back, proud of it.

  “You indeed are different. How about romance?” He questioned.

  “As long as the plot is good. I am fine.” You answered.

  “Alright then. Our next date lets watch romance!” He flash his box smile. Meanwhile, all you could focus on Was him. Only him.

  Then it hit you. He just ask you out again. And you are just glad he wanted to go out with you again.


  Halfway through the movie, you were freezing to your bones. Well. You rarely felt cold and the pounding rain outside was not helping. Thanks to your ego that stubbornly believe you are never cold, you never had a jacket and you are regretting all your life choices now.

You shakily reach for the popcorn when your chilled hands brush against Taehyung’s warm and big ones.

You didn’t think too much about it but wouldn’t it be nice to hold his hands ? You brush the thought out of your mind when a shadow flittered across you and you immediately felt warmer.

  Taehyung had got rid of  his jacket and draped it across you. He had noticed your freezing self And sacrifice his jacket. You look towards him and he acted like he didn’t do anything. You focus on his sharp jaw line, his facial features. He just seems perfect.


  Thinking about your date before, you were smiling while on the way to school. You never knew why people in love can be so happy. And now you understand. Wait. Did you just say love ? Did you fall in love with him already? It  will be fine isn’t it. Because who wouldn’t?

  You were shook out from your thoughts when you heard muffled noises coming from around the corner. Curiosity kills the cat. You were reminded. Unable to contain yourself, you decided to just have a peek.

  Taehyung was making out with a girl, his distinct figure was easily make out. His warm hands around the girls thighs, lips attached to hers.

  Did you felt pain ?

  Curiosity kills the cat. Literally.

A/n: Here you go. Hopefully i don’t make this series last too long. Anyway! BTS REACTIONS requests are open! Welcome to request. Andand, feed backs are welcomeee! (:

Oh yes. request for the next member of this series too.

Side rant: i am paired with a trashy person for a trip, should i still go ? *stress*


(How taehyung met you in the cafe)

*GIF credit to the original post

Originally posted by bangtanroyalty

The Travelling Booth

“One minute a day
could be reserved for you
To tell your secrets to
Miss You-Don’t-Know-Who!”
From a yellow phone booth
projected the voice,
“Women and grandmothers.
Husbands and boys.”

“A tip in the hat
for a tick of your time.
Pay us in pennies.
Pay us in dimes.
We accept gum wrappers,
tokens, and tickets.
Give us your coins
in exchange for one minute!”

The line up consisted
of fidgety folk
From the corner of
Sheep Street and Rumour Road,
To the White Liebrary
it wrapped around.
The Travelling Booth
Was the talk of the town.

“Have you a moment
Between lunchtime and dinner?
Might you be a secret keeper,
Liar, or sinner?
Let us relieve you
of any hard burdens.
You don’t have to carry them
All by your lonesome.”

One by one, people
Turned over their pockets,
Giving up loose change,
Old lighters, and lockets,
To participate in this
Addictive game
Of unknown confessions
From anonymous names.

After a week, the town
Ran out of claims.
Their minute of whispers
began to shift blame
Into crueler tongues
About other townsfolk.
The people turned over.
They were bitter and broke.

When the people gathered
In the centre of town,
In the early morning,
Do you know what they found?
There were two phone booths
At opposite corners.
In curiosity, slowly
the crowd shuffled forward.

“One minute a day
Could be reserved for you
To tell your secrets to
Miss You-Don’t-Know-Who!
Or instead, if your curious
mind is of interest,
You could make your offer
In exchange for one secret.”

“That’s right! One secret
That we will tell you!
Instead of one minute,
We’ll give you one truth!
We won’t be here long,
What have you to lose
But a moment or two
In the Travelling Booth? ”

Echoed the speakers,
A rooster in the street,
Feeding a daily routine
To the sheep.
Back and forth, the
townsfolk cut lines,
Pick pocketing neighbours
To pay for more time.

Some started wearing
Shades as a disguise.
The truth booth in fact
Was creating more lies,
And every so often
Some poor guy would pay
To hear his own sad secret
Being relayed.

Three long weeks after
The phone booth arrived,
The booming speaker
Announced a surprise,
“In the midnight hours
Instead of midday,
Before we pack up and
Start leaving this place”

“I will tell you my secret
If you tell me yours.
A coin will buy you-
Not one minute, but four!
Miss You-Don’t-Know-Who,
At the end of line,
Will not be available
Tonight until Nine.”

The phone booth locked up,
And the speakers shut down.
The people were buzzing
Around in the town.
But for the first time in weeks,
The town had one day
Without any rumours
Or secrets to make.

One woman piped up,
“This man buried our town.
Together we need to
Rise up from the ground!”
This town excelled in one thing,
That was talking.
By the end of the night,
The whole town was marching.

The town hated each other,
But they were like family,
And they realised they had
A cruel common enemy.
They met at the centre
Of town after dusk.
After the phone booth
Had opened up.

They waited with pitchforks.
They waited with knives.
All night long, but the
booming voice never arrived.
Some people tell tales
Of the whispering town
Because the Travelling Booth
Has never left grounds.

Girl Meets Season 4 - Episode 3

Girl Meets Season 4 - The Continuing Saga of Riley and her friends as they tackle their Sophomore year in High School. The ups, the downs, and everything in between. What will their sophomore year be like? Read and find out.

Episodes [1] [2]

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Prompt 3: Emotion

Thrawn-centric drabbles written for the Star Wars Fictober Challenge. All completed prompts can be found bundled up in my fic The Contemplative Man.

  • Characters: Arihnda Pryce, Thrawn (referenced)
  • Rating: G
  • Word Count: 620

This one was tough and I might have missed the mark with the prompt itself, but I kinda like what came out of it.  So … whatever, here we go :]

Arihnda thinks about the one field of battle Thrawn is defenseless in, and how she uses it to her advantage.

Arihnda Pryce had many opinions about Grand Admiral Thrawn. He was brilliant. He was a strategical genius and impressive leader. He was a political dunce.

But with growing certainty, what Arihnda thought about Thrawn was that he wasn’t as brilliant as everyone thought he was. After all, for all his skill in war and tactics, for all his strengths and success, even he could be manipulated.

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Annoying love

Request: anonymous: So, reader is an avenger and they all live together at the tower (including Clint’s dog, damn you MCU for not having Lucky) and Clint and the reader are always annoying each other, Clint is more laid back during missions while reader is kind of paranoid and when they get teamed up together, this go south. Reader gets injured and Clint feels really guilty, then they fight because he apologizes too much and in the middle of it he confesses he loves her.

Pairing: Clint Barton x Reader

Word count: 1.286

Warnings: swearing, injured reader (getting shot)

A/N: I feel like I stretched this one out to far. What do you guys think?

Originally posted by mayawolf

“BARTON!” your angered voice sounded through the Avengers tower, causing Sam to stick his head around the corner in curiosity. He quickly retreated his head when you stormed past him, face flushed with anger and hands balled into fists.

“Oh dear, she looked exceptionally angry this time.” He muttered and looked over to Steve, who hurried to finish his coffee. “What ever he did, we better not be in the line of fire. Wanna take Lucky for a walk?” said man asked in between sips of his drink.

“You bet!” Sam answered and together they hurried out of the kitchen.

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Part One - Jin’s selca, why it is important, and Jungkook’s poster.

Part Two - You are here!

Part Three - Taehyung’s, Hoseok’s and Seokjin’s posters, and wrapping this whole thing up.

Part Four - The HYYH pairings, and the difference between night/day, yin/yang.

It seems they’re releasing one member every hour now, meaning that I have a lot of analysing to do and not a lot of time to do it in. Please bear with >.<

As I stated yesterday there are three distinct colours in both Jin’s selca and Jungkook’s poster: white, green, and blue. As you can see, this theme is reiterated in Yoongi’s poster, Jimin’s poster, and Namjoon’s poster.

Yoongi’s Poster - The blue in Yoongi’s poster (top left) is in his jeans, his undershirt and there are slight blue/grey hues in the tunnel around him. Once again, blue symbolises trust, loyalty, and calm. Comparing this to Jungkook’s poster which was released first, there is a lot less blue.

His shoes are very clearly white: white symbolises virginity, innocence, and purity. Notice how in Jungkook’s poster white is possibly the main colour or shade there, but it is very minimal here.

The green, once again, is in the background. And also, the green (the colour of jealousy, growth and harmony) comes from the side of nature. It is also very minimal, like the blue. This could either represent a lack of jealousy, or a lack of harmony. Also considering that Yoongi’s caption translates to “Don’t come closer; you’ll become unhappy”, a lack of harmony seems to be more likely. 

Yet, in this poster, there is another important colour: red. The colour of danger and warning, but also passion and intimacy. Given the fact that there is no red in Jungkook’s poster at all, this could show that Yoongi’s storyline focuses more on danger and risk rather than Jungkook’s more calming and tranquil appearance.

Jimin’s Poster - This poster is covered in green, unlike Yoongi’s and Jungkook’s, where the green was only in small amounts. While it is still in the background, it takes up around 60% of the poster, leaving Jimin in the corner.

One other important thing to notice is the poses held in each poster. Jungkook and Yoongi are at the centre, while Jimin is in the corner, with the focus still on him. Jungkook is sat in his wheelchair, with a content and happy expresison; Yoongi is huddled and hidden away, with a more plain and pensive expression; Jimin is in the corner looking up with curiosity; Namjoon is sat thinking on the bus.

In this poster, there is more white, in the plainness of his shirt. There is more blue, in the sky in the corner. There is a lot of green. But, like Yoongi (and Namjoon) he has a unique colour. Pink.

Pink is the colour of femininity, and charm, as well as romance and playfulness (it’s important to note that while red is intimacy, and passion, pink is more synonymous with ‘cutesy’ romance). It makes the photo appear brigher, and it emphasises the distance between Jimin and the woods around him. While the background and the red make Yoongi’s photo more dull than the rest, Jimin’s is very bright (may be bright with more optimism). Yet, the translation of Jimin’s caption is “I lied. Because there is no reason to love someone like me.” which seems to have negative connotations.

Namjoon’s Poster - Once again, there is blue (his shirt), green (trees), and white (notice the more drab sky).

He also has a unique colour; this is the colour brown. Brown is the colour of earth, wholesomeness, reliability, security, and honesty. Honestly, I just feel like brown is a good colour in terms of symbolising Namjoon as a person, but that’s a rant for another day.

Namjoon, like Jimin, is not in the centre, and the poster seems to be focusing on the bus as much as the person sat on it. His caption also fits nicely for where he is, as “I’m only looking at you from behind, because now isn’t the right time” seems to suggest that he is looking at someone on a bus, or he is simply admiring from a distance. Considering the fact that he is sat at the back of the bus, it makes sense for him to admire from a distance.

Another thing to note (that I literally just noticed) is that no member has looked at the camera yet. There is a lack of that certain intimacy achieved when one stares or looks at a camera. I wonder whether one member will. Because of these, all photos seem quite distant.

Overall, before I await the next poster, and thus the next “sitting down and staring until something comes into my head” situation, each member shares similarities with one another (not looking in the camera, sharing the colours white, green, and blue) but there seems to be distinguishing factors that they hold for themselves (a unique colour, how they share the colours). It’s interesting, and I hope this isn’t just something that I’m making into a big deal for no reason.

look, no excuse for this, but: Severus Snape Corgi Crackfic

diarycrux said:

snape with a litter of corgi puppies following him everywhere while he’s his usual grumpy self CAN WE?

diarycrux said:


Severus Snape had made a crucial mistake two weeks ago. He’d been standing in Albus Dumbledore’s office, staring at a hooped golden object that whirred on a shelf behind Dumbledore’s head, and wondering what exactly its purpose was. As a result, he’d been distracted when the headmaster said, “Severus, may I suggest an addition to your classroom in the new year?”

It had been the end of summer, and Snape—mostly because of guilt, having secretly shredded one of Albus’s favorite scarves for an experimental scarf-related potion—wanted to show some gesture of goodwill, so he’d said, instinctively, “Yes.” Like an idiot. This was why gestures of goodwill were ill-advised in absolutely every situation.

The second the affirmative issued from his lips, Snape regretted it. There was no way to anticipate what he’d just agreed to. Expectations were always a thorny issue with Albus. “An addition to the classroom”—would the old man suggest one of those cauldrons made entirely out of dragonglass, cured in vats of Veela spit for sixty years? Albus had been talking about those for months.

Or would he suggest a new lighting system? Six students had tottered to the infirmary this past spring, moaning that the flickering torches in the dungeons had given them eye strain. Honestly. Eye strain. Sometimes Severus thought that the staff should close down Hogwarts now, shut the doors, drop the wards, abandon the Founders’ project while they were still ahead, instead of encouraging these whinging little crybabies to spout their opinions as if they mattered.

But that was not the problem at hand anymore. That was all two weeks ago, and now he had to deal with the consequences.

The answer to any open-ended question from Albus Dumbledore is no, Snape thought, teeth gritted tight, sweeping loose corgi fur into the flame beneath his cauldron, which flared an indignant sort of purple.

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Helping Miss Fernandes - Part 2

Summary: When Jellal got himself into yet another trouble, which was also partly her fault, Meredy decided that Erza was the best person to give him a hand until she found the way to got him out from his predicament.

Words: 2400+

A/N: I promised in my answer to an anon ask that I would not give up this fic. I had wanted to finish the fic in the 2nd chapter. But I figured that if I put everything in this chapter, it would probably take me another month or even more to update this fic. So I decided to post what I have written to show that I’m keeping my promise and I will finish this in chapter 3 instead.  

Part 1


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