dense trees

first light

based on hotarubi no mori e (reposted)

pairing: jungkook | reader, taehyung | reader
genre: fluff and (mainly) angst
word count: 24.843
warnings: none

“Have you ever felt like the world is too loud sometimes?”

“No. For me it’s always quiet.”


The soft crackle of the fire is the only sound breaking the deep silence. It smoothly cuts through the murky atmosphere of the night, and the sight of its origins is just as mesmerizing: waves of blazing fire helplessly reach out towards the sky, weak and strong, the flames rising aimlessly as they sway amongst the smoke.

Sitting there, alone and surrounded by trees and the calming waves of the bonfire, is numbing enough to make time still. The temperatures are low enough for a crisp breeze to tickle your cheeks, seeping through the layers of your clothes as your hands seek for warmth against each other. You can almost pretend you’re completely on your own, that voices are not coming closer and that the sound of hearty laughter isn’t overpowering the eerie quietness of nature.

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This not-so-short-anymore story is dedicated to @charminglyantiquated and her magnificent @elsewhereuniversity comic which has exploded all over my brain.

Read chapter two here!

Nobody ever parks in Lot C after dark.

It’s not because of the Beast. It’s because Lot C is in the very back of campus, way too far from Everything of Importance. You’d have to walk a quarter mile before you reached anywhere that sells coffee, almost a mile to the library. The nearest structure is a low sprawl of administrative buildings, but even they don’t park in Lot C after dark. They come to work early, and leave before sunset.

It was a bitch to get my meal card replaced when I’d lost it. They kept shutting down that stretch of slumped old admin offices before I’d finished with my afternoon Physics Lab. My lab partner would laugh at me.

“You’ll have to eat out of the trash again. Poor Moonie. Soon enough you’ll turn into a raccoon,” she would coo at me, an unattractive smirk wrinkling her nose.

I didn’t like the way she said it. I didn’t like a lot of things she said. Sometimes I felt like she wished bad things to happen to me, just so she could snicker at my misfortune. I think it was her smile that did it. Whenever she smiled, I got the feeling she knew something that I didn’t. She liked it that way.

I didn’t mind it too much. The one thing she didn’t know was Physics.

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help save my babies <3

plant bee-friendly flowers! honeysuckle will attract beautiful hummingbirds (and taste good to humans, too!) so plant those as well if your climate permits it!

(from google)
SPRING: Crocus, hyacinth, borage, calendula, wild lilac (early bloomers)

SUMMER: bee balm, cosmos, echinacea, snapdragons foxglove, hosta

FALL: zinnias, sedum, asters, witch hazel, goldenrod (late bloomers)

set up small birdbaths full of water for bees to land and drink! make sure that there are stones placed in the bath so that bees and wasps can land on their surfaces and wont drown in the water. if you live in humid/rainy climates, this usually isnt necessary because bugs will get their hydration from raindrops or gooey flowers! if you live in a dry climate like me, then you’ll want to set some baths up (and consider misting your flowers in the mornings to imitate humidity)

set up little dishes of sugar water for the lovely pollinators! if youre having a hard time maintaining one, or have nowhere to place one, try getting a hummingbird feeder instead, which you can hang it from a tree or rafter. it’d also reduce the amount of ground-dwellers seeking out your sugar water, if pests are an issue in your area.

DONT remove spiders or spiderwebs from your garden unless you think its putting bees or wasps in danger! there are some spiders that blend in and live directly inside flower blooms [] which pose as a threat to honeybees. if you have one of these spiders (and the guts to touch it) then i’d recommend moving it to a lower/smaller/minor pollen producing flower so that theres less of a chance for it to accidentally catch your bees. if need be, toss it some flies if you have any on your windowsill! give it mosquitos youve just killed! help it out!

same goes for webbing. is it in a major place where lots of pollinators are getting caught? consider moving it and the spider somewhere less densely packed with blooms. trees are good!

set up birdfeeders filled with the appropriate seed for your location, which will feed the most common birds around your home. (for me, that’s chickadees, robins and bluejays- i have a robin nest in my backyard! new babies every year :D)

bee kind and gentle uwu 🐝🐝

Ash (part1)

The campus has always had places of in-between; between our world and theirs, between magic and mundane, Fae and human, and there are those of the Fae that treasure these places of in-between greatly. Their little… projects.

I9 was one such project, all the students were sure. The building had been on campus for as long as anyone could remember, it refused to show up on any map, and had withstood every try at getting it removed. It didn’t really ‘fit’ with the rest of the campus, although somehow, sometimes, it seemed to fit far too well. Sitting just beyond the dense tree line of the forest, I9 was a small, old, cottage with thatched roof, and a happily running stream the only thing between it and the trees.

No one had lived there since… well, no one could quite agree on the last person who had lived there, some remembered it being a girl from an arts major. Others argued it had been a boy from chemistry. Some others put in that maybe it hadn’t been a student at all. Whoever they were, they hadn’t lasted long, hardly a month before being taken.

The Fae were all unusual, unpredictable, unsettling, but the one that took an interest in this place had something most others did not, patience and persistence.

The girl had applied late, to only do one unit a term, and to live on campus. Her high school marks were nothing special, hardly enough to graduate let alone to be considered for somewhere as prestigious as Elsewhere University. The admin staff placed her immediately in the rejected pile, but every morning they would find the application back on their desk. After a week, one member of staff decided to just shred the damn thing, but sure enough, the next day there it was again. After that, they all agreed that the choice had been made for them. When the paperwork came through though, and I9 came out no matter what room anyone typed or even wrote on the forms, that’s when they started to worry. Someone had been chosen again.

Maybe some members of staff (those who knew the history of I9) tried to warn the girl, tried to change fate, but in the end the acceptance letter still went out, and the room number was still unchanged.

Ash was all anxiety, and depression, and layer upon layer of shaky coping mechanisms that she’d built up over the years. She didn’t know anyone at Elsewhere, and didn’t have any friends from anywhere else either. Her parents had moved away to start new lives, and after two painful years of self-doubt and second-guessing, she had finally decided to try for uni. It wasn’t that she wasn’t intelligent, just that she was… different. She never kept friends, always talked to herself or to animals rather than other people, she never seemed to fit in with anyone, and often got on teachers nerves for being too reserved, and so her schooling had suffered. She knew she could do well she just needed time.

Things were strange when Ash got to campus. She wasn’t in one of the communal dorms like she had expected, instead she found her room number carved on the door of an old cottage by the forest edge. She watched the other students for a while, all of them avoiding the path down to the little cottage, all of them taking care not to walk on the little flowers that grew out the front. It took her a good twenty minutes to convince herself to go knock on the door, after all it wouldn’t be the first time someone had tried to mess with the new kid.

She could hear other students whispering as they passed, their eyes boring into her back as she walked to the door. It made her skin crawl and her hairs stand on end, like something was about to attack. She fumbled for her keys and found they were no longer the generic store cut keys she had collected, but one heavy, black, old iron key, it fit the lock though and she took respite within the tiny cottage.

Inside it was small, dark, and smelled of old books and dust. Beyond the entrance was a small sitting room, its walls lined with bookshelves stuffed to the brim with books. A little kitchen with old-fashioned fittings was to the left, a brightly lit study nook to the right, its windows large and filled with overgrown potted herbs and plants. Just past the sitting room was a cosy bedroom with a little bathroom hidden behind one of the wardrobe doors, Ash wondered what else was hidden in here.

The trees outside rustled and birds began to caw as she set down her things and took in her new home. It was strange, and eerie, and her cheeks still burned with the students whispers, but it felt oddly safe within these walls, as if she truly had come home.

Students in class were nicer than she had experienced in high school, though some of them refused to meet her eyes. Others insisted on giving her handfuls of little diner salt packets, which was odd at first. It took some time for her to believe this wasn’t some kind of cruel joke at her expense, but after a while she recognised it as something good. One guy even came up to her and shoved a little hand full of nuts and bolts strung together on a thin chain into her hand and muttered a brief ‘hang in there’ before strolling off.

Well she had heard rumours about people at Elsewhere being superstitious, she just hadn’t quite expected it to be this full on. Some students even had their own small rituals they performed before entering certain classes. Even with all the odd around her though, she still felt that she wasn’t exactly part of it all, she was still an outsider, as she had always been, never quite fitting in anywhere.

The first week passed uneventfully. Though the students in class weren’t cruel, they didn’t sit with her if at all possible, politely making their excuses before moving away if she sat at their table. By the end of the week she felt as alone as she had ever been, something she had grown quite used to.

The weekend came quickly and soon enough second week began. Ash sat at the back of the lecture theatre expecting to again be surrounded by empty seats, but this time a boy sat beside her. He had the most amazing eyes all glitter and angles. He didn’t say a word to her but watched like a hawk when she scratched out a few lines of a small poem before the lecture began. He was… odd, but the company was comfortable.

After that lecture the whispering became worse. She would catch snippets of ‘did you see their eyes?’, ‘definitely one of them’, ‘she didn’t even notice’ as she walked passed. Her cheeks burning with embarrassment, she quickly headed back towards I9. Just outside I9 though she was stopped  by the yowling of an animal in terrible pain. In the bushes was a small white cat tangled in some wires, everyone else was hurrying passed without even a glance its way. The thing was making such an awful noise she had half expected the bite of razorwire as she freed the creature, but it was just plain old wire. She could have sworn though, as the cat scampered off across the stream and into the forest, that as it turned away it suddenly had too many eyes, all glitter and angles, but she couldn’t be sure.

After that, things were… stranger. The shadows around the cottage felt deeper than was possible, wind chimes that had been taken down long before Ash had gotten there chimed happily in the dead still air, and there was a lingering smell of honey and wet fur.

She knew something was wrong when she woke the next morning. The feeling stole over her in cold waves of panic, something was different, something was wrong, something had happened. When she looked in the mirror she saw that the eyes staring back at her were wrong, they seemed to stare much much farther than a reflection should be able, and glinted with the colours of the aurora borealis. She heard the purring of a cat as tears welled in her beautiful, wrong, eyes.

It was late afternoon when she finally left I9 again, and slowly she realised her eyes weren’t the only things that had changed. She could see… things… playing in the trees just passed the stream. Things covered in fur and claws, and feathers, and bone. There was a lady at the other end of the path watching her closely, a small cat curled around her legs. Her eyes drifted past Ash, and Ash turned to see what had caught her gaze. It was a basket filled with… things. There was a bunch of rotten bananas, some plants that looked rather a lot like weeds still with their roots attached covered in dirt, a couple of lengths of string, a frayed bit of cloth, and a handful of stones and little bones. In a voice like dripping blood, and splintering bones the lady spoke to Ash ‘A small gift for my Girl Between. A basket of favours yet made, promises yet to come, use my gift well little one, I’ll know if you waste it’. When Ash blinked the lady was gone, and she was left alone with the basket of things, and a cat that definitely had too many eyes.


anonymous asked:

Hi!!!! Don't know if you're still taking prompts but if you do, here is mine :) imagine an au where everything is different and Jamie has the chance to court Claire properly (in the 18th century) An au completely different from the show or a "what if Jack Randall never met Claire" kind of au. I can't wait to read your works as always, thank you ❤


Claire giggled as she ran through the thick grass that grew along the outskirts of the forest, ducking and diving under branches as she darted as far as she could from the ever watchful gaze of her protectors at Lallybroch.

“Claire Beauchamp…amongst the savages!” She could hear the mockery in their tone even now, her relatives aghast at the idea of Uncle Lamb bringing her to such a place, especially so close after the horrors of Culloden.

But Claire didn’t mind; in fact she prefered the vast Scottish landscapes to the dense cities of England. Here, people didn’t care as to her name, or her position. Here she was just allowed to be Claire.

Spared from the ravages of the British Army, Broch Tuarach lay hidden just a stones through from Bewley, and only a carriage ride from Inverness. The inhabitants, Clan Fraser, had escaped relatively unscathed during the conflict, having hovered only on the periphery for a time. Brian Fraser had steered his men well, keeping the majority of them on neutral ground during the conflict. Their direct relatives, Clan Mackenzie had not been so fortunate.

Still, Brian and Ellen had three young children to raise, and embedding themselves in a merciless bloody war wouldn’t have been wise.

At the thought of their wee brood, Claire’s cheeks flushed pink, the spread reaching the tips of her ears as she raised herself just high enough to see through the grass and down into the valley.

There, at the bottom of the hill with his hand shading his eyes from the sun was Jamie Fraser. The youngest of the Frasers.

Claire’s heart raced, the blood pumping thick through her veins as she slid closer to the ground, pulling her skirts around her as she tried to cover herself. Licking her lips, she could still recall the tingle she’d felt after their first stolen kiss.

Rolling onto her back, Claire gazed up at the sky, her eyes glazing over as the afternoon sun warmed every inch of her. Toeing off her ragged shoes, she slid her feet through the shorter grass beside her, enjoying the heat as it surged through her.


They had only been acquainted a month or so, him having been at school in Paris when Lamb and herself had arrived, but the moment he’d caught her eye she’d known. Smiling, she bit her lip, a strange sensation taking hold of her, making her breasts almost…ache. Clenching her thighs together, tight, she pushed herself from the ground and scuttled sideways into the dense tree line, abandoning her shawl completely as she sought refuse amongst the low boughs.  

Finding a relatively safe spot, Claire leant against a tree and closed her eyes as she inhaled a rather large breath. Something about Jamie called to her. The soft swell of his boyish chest, the way certain curls flicked from the top of his head as he moved about the place, the carefree glint that lit his sea-blue irises. Everything about James Fraser called to her.

Suddenly, a strong pair of arms gripped her waist, turning and pinning her against the trunk of the tree, his hands wrapped solidly around her wrists as he ran his nose along the length of hers.

“Thought ye could outfox me, did ye, sassenach?” Jamie purred, his pet name for her warming the butterflies in her belly as they flip-flopped.

“Maybe I was luring you out here, did you ever think of that….” she cooed in return, a roll of her hips bringing their midsections in direct contact with one another.

Both of them knew that they were skirting a fine line.

Neither of them cared.

“Aye, I ken ye might do that…wee fairy temptress that you are.” He whispered, nipping the lobe of her ear with his teeth as he finished his teasing.

Taking his lips against hers, Claire ended their conversation, pulling Jamie to her with a passionate kiss that made her belly throb and her knees wobble.

His tongue probed at her lips, gently licking her sensitive skin as she tipped her head to the side and opened her mouth, answering his silent question.

“We ha’ to tell them, Claire,” Jamie murmured between caresses, his sweet breath fanning over Claire’s burning face as she bent forwards, trying desperately to bring him back to her, needing the contact, “I want to court ye properly, no’ in secret…please…”

Picking her foot off the floor, Claire wrapped her calf around Jamie’s bottom, driving him closer to her, as close as he could possibly get –for the moment.

“What will they say do you think?” Claire returned, worry niggling on the boundary of her happy place, locked together here –alone with Jamie.

“I dinna ken precise actions, Claire,” Jamie soothed, letting go of her still-restrained hands and running just the tips of his fingers over her damp brow, shifting the wisps of hair that clung to the skin there. “But I think they’ll be pleased.”

‘I think they already know,’ is what he didn’t say, unsure as to how perceptive Claire had been on the matter.

But Claire did know, her eyes holding his as they communicated silently.

“Pleased…” Claire whispered, her tongue peeking just between her lips as she spoke.

“Alright,” she declared, an assertiveness to her tone that Jamie knew all too well, “let’s tell them….” Pausing, Claire looked beyond the tree line and back again, her brows furrowing for just an instant as she processed Jamie’s request. “B-but –tell them what, exactly?”

Jamie smirked, his lips twitching and his eyes lightening as he dipped his head ever so slightly.

“That, Claire Beauchamp –Fraser–, ye are to be my wife.”

Hal paced the worn rug, his boots ruffling the loose hairs on the weave as he stomped up and down in front of the fireplace.

“What *is* Quentin thinking?!” He muttered, ill at ease with the thought of his niece and that…*Scot*. “I told you, John. Didn’t I say!” He spat, flicking the contents of his finished pipe into the roaring embers of the fire as he twisted to face his brother.

John sat rubbing his chin, gazing at his ill-tempered brother, watching as a stray bead of sweat slid down his forehead, across his temple and down his rosy-red cheek.

“Marriage?! Has he gone daft! They’re *farmers*, Scottish farmers at that. They’re probably still harbouring fugitives of the law! And our young Claire…”

Shuddering, Hal gave John a despairing looking. “Send for them!” He finished, sensing little to no cooperation from John. “Bring them both home. I won’t have them dishonouring us like this.”

John tried not to laugh, swilling the remaining contents of his brandy around the bottom of the crystal glass he held between his fingers.

“Quentin loves Claire like a daughter, Hal,” John appeased, finally breaking his silence, “he wouldn’t let her come to any harm. You know that–”

The door slammed open, the handle hitting the wall with a soft thud as Hal’s wife, Minnie, barged her way into the sitting area.

“Hal, could I have your opinion on something…please?” She asked, batting her eyelashes at Hal in a move far too feminine for her.

Winking secretively at John, she led Hal out into the hall and shook her head, closing the wood solidly behind her.

Sighing, John took a final swig of his drink, the cool liquid setting the back of his throat on fire as it ran down his oesophagus.

Claire was just like her mother, and Hal knew it well. He’d been just about ready to remind Hal of the fact when Minnie had, rather appropriately, interrupted.

He’d send the letter, as requested, but both he and Minnie knew what the result of that action would be. And it certainly wouldn’t be Claire and Quentin reunited with them on English soil.

The letter came soon enough.

Claire was excited, bouncing on her toes as uncle Lamb ran his finger under the seal, popping the wax, his eyes flitting across the page as he read Hal’s words carefully.

His smile dropped, his hands beginning to shake as he turned to Claire, a look of distress plastered over his usually jolly features.

“Claire, darling…” he cooed, trying to calm her before he’d even revealed the news.

“He said no –didn’t he?” She whispered, her voice breaking as her heart plummeted.

She hadn’t even considered that he’d turn her down.

“He did. I’m sorry, my beauty.” Sighing, Lamb re-folded the note and placed it carefully into his pocket. “But that’s not all, I’m afraid.”

Claire saw the truth in his eyes before he’d even voiced the words.

Backing up, she shook her head as she fled the living room, her sobs echoing through the empty corridors of the big house as she slammed the door to her rooms, cupping her hand over her mouth as she slid to the floor. Letting the agony consume her. Claire crawled towards the fire and curled up on the large rug. Wrapping her arms around her knees she cried, her tears dripping onto the thin fibres of the neatly woven carpet.

“You can’t make me leave,” she wept, her words only audible to herself, “I won’t let you take me back…I won’t!”

Sneaking into her room, Jamie carefully closed the door behind him as he crept over to the fireplace and wrapped himself around her. The embers had long since died out, leaving her in a tiny frozen ball.

“I had to wait, Claire, I’m sorry…” he spoke, his warm breath fanning over her chilled flesh as she linked her frigid fingers with his hot ones, “yer uncle has been packing for ye.”

Claire shook her head, fervently disagreeing with any idea of leaving Lallybroch and Jamie.

“Hush now, sassenach,” he soothed, feeling her distress as he tried to quash her fears. “Ye havena heard the story of my parents first meeting, have ye?” He continued, hope igniting his tone as a stray flame danced to life in time with his words.

“N-no.” Claire stuttered, her eyes suddenly blinking open at the hint of optimism in Jamie’s voice.

“Then let me tell ye now, aye? …and ye ken already that it has a happy ending.”

Locking her hands with his more solidly, Claire nodded, the lead weight lifting from her chest as he began to recount one night, long before his birth, where two lovers slipped away into the night, leaving behind the dark cloud of those who wished to keep them apart…

Others AU

(Small segments of reader-inserts for the Darkiplier-Coraline crossover AU. I may come back and forth with this when I get other ideas. For now this is what I’ve got. :) )

Amy continued walking deeper into the woods that stretched out from the back of the house. Back at her real home these woods would continue on for a few miles downhill until they lead to a single winding road into town. Here the ground remained flat and the trees became less dense, less leafy, less… ‘tree’.

She heard a small yap from behind her and turned to see Chica bounding up to her. Amy had never been happier to see her. She was happy just to see something without those flat emotionless buttons for eyes.
“Chica!” she called out as the golden dog walked alongside her.
“You goin’ for a walk?” Chica asked happily, “Can I walk with you? You look lonely. No one should walk alone. It’s best to have a walk-buddy. It’s more fun.”
Amy nodded. She was surprised how talkative Chica was now she could talk. Back home she would hardly bark. Although she supposed most dogs would be very talkative given the chance, they seemed like the kind of creatures that would have a lot to say about anything and nothing.

“Where have you been all night?” Amy asked.
“Investigating. Investigating this, investigating that, just general much needed investigations.”
“Nice. Find anything?”
“Not much. This place is rather small. It’s not like home. Can we go back home soon?”
“You mean real home?”
“Yeah. I don’t like this place. I miss home. I miss Mork.”
They kept walking, the colours of the forest around them seeming to faded away.
“What do you mean you miss Mark? He’s back home. I mean, real home, back through the door.”
“No he isn’t. Kat isn’t there either. Or… Tire. Or blue fuzzy Eth-ham.”
Amy stopped and looked at Chica. “Wait, what?”
“After you went off I went investigating- I found a ball! And the most perfect stick in the world! And a very very small box that tried to hop on my head for a ride! I had to run away from him!- But after that I got bored. So I went to real home. And no one was there. So I waited. But no one came back. So I got bored. So I came back here, where I knew you would be.”
Amy felt a wash of cold dread come over her. She felt cold and vulnerable at the idea that all her friends had mysteriously disappeared.
“And now I found you!” Chica continued, “And now we can go investigating together!” She bounded away further into the depleting forest. Amy ran to catch up with her, she couldn’t help the feeling that if she let Chica leave her sight she’d lose her forever.

Soon there were no trees at all. Or plants. Or muddy path. Or ground. Or sky. Just a white abyss and a mist that felt like lighter than the air itself.
“Wait. What’s happened? Shouldn’t this lead down the hill to town?”
Chica looked back at her, still with a face of careless happiness. “Nope. Nothin’ here. Just space!” She ran into the white and ran a mile circle before running back to Amy. “Space gets boring.”
Amy looked behind her as they walked on as the crude sticks and squares of what were presumably trees disappeared in the white mist until there was nothing but her and Chica. “But why is it here? Or rather… why is nothing here?”
“Because you like home more than town. He only made things you like. And made them better. He wanted to impress you.”
“You mean Other Mark?”
Chica’s ears flattened on her head and she seemed to stop smiling. “If that’s what you call him, then yes.”
“He created all this himself? Why? What does he want with me?”
“He loves you.”
That statement sent an unpleasant pulse down Amy’s chest. As much as the Other Mark had shown her nothing but care and consideration to the point of making her feel like a divine deity, the notion of him ‘loving’ her made her feel uncomfortable. “Loves me?”
“Yeah. He loves you, as much as I love Mork. And he hates Mork. He doesn’t like that he and Mork both love you, and that you love Mork, and you don’t love him. He wants to get rid of Mork. And Kat, and Tire, and Eth-ham.”
Amy stopped walking and just stared at the ground, clutching her arms and shivering. She was scared. Scared and unsure of what to do. Chica walked up to her legs and looked up at her terrified face. She realised Amy wasn’t happy, and she thought what she said made her unhappy, which made Chica feel unhappy.
So she tried to make her feel better. “Or maybe he doesn’t love you. Maybe he’s just pretending. Like he did with the old owners.”
Amy looked at Chica very puzzled. “Old owners?”
“Old owners of the house. They told me he tricked them by making them think he loved them. He then ate them.”
“Ate them?!”
“No, not like chomping them down. Just eating their lives.”
This confused Amy further, but she didn’t bother asking for an explanation. Any kind of ‘eaten’ was bad. “How did they tell you this? Where did you find them?”
“When investigating. They’re behind a mirror. They said they may see you soon.”
Amy gulped. She continued walking herself and Chica into the white abyss. She partially hoped that there was some path somewhere in the nothingness that lead to her real home, with her real friends, with her real life.

Then in the nothingness she saw something. A building. She got closer to it and slowly things started appearing. The ground, the sky, the trees, the brick wall, the familiar colourful walls of the house, familiar windows and pathways around the house. Her heart sunk as she realised it was the house she just left a few minutes ago.
“We walked in a big circle, didn’t we?”
“You may have done. I didn’t. Just a straight line.”
Amy scratched her head. “But how can you walk away from something and still come back to it?”
“Easily, if you walk around the world.” Chica answered and she sat by Amy’s feet and stared at the house with her as the pieces of the world started to fall neatly into place.
Amy hummed. “Small world.”

Wish (Part 4)

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3]  

Pairing: Kagehina 
Show: Haikyuu!! 
Summary:  Howl’s Moving Castle AU, in which Kageyama makes a wish upon a falling star, and gets Hinata instead.

Tobio hadn’t anticipated feeling so vulnerable once they left the cave.

In the shelter of the trees, things were alright. They at least provided a little cover, and places for them to run, to hide, should they need to, but soon enough they were leaving the forest and wandering a dirt path, hoof-prints and tire treads clear in the dust.

They walked on, Hinata chattering away at his side, but all the while Tobio stayed on high alert, one hand curled around the handle of his knife, tucked deep beneath his cloak.

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Space chess?

You’d be forgiven for thinking that some giants had set up this flatter space in the Selkirk Hills of northern Idaho for some complex game and removed the pieces after finishing their match. What we’re seeing is an area of agricultural forest divided into 400 metre squares, with some areas harvested and covered by a recent snowfall while the rest reveal the dark green crowns of trees of dense forests. The nearby Priest River was once used to carry logs, but is now protected from development, with a status officially entitledn as a “wild and scenic river”.


Image credit: NASA

Fire & gasoline

Influenced by @abloodneed ​‘s gay thirst for Magnus Bane. Don’t ever change, Izsak.

When the lights go red and the alarm rings out in the Institute, Magnus is with Alec. They’re in his room, now barely ever used and dusted over, but still necessary for those rare occasions they stay overnight, too tired or maybe just too lazy to portal to Magnus’ loft – their home, away from the world. Aside from just wanting to spend more time with Magnus, this is one of the reasons Alec moved out as soon as the decision was just formality hanging in the air, a question to be asked and answered with a sweet smile – not having to be woken up with something akin to horror movie shelter sirens in the middle of the night.

It’s a hollow kind of sound, urgent and calling for attention – Alec breaks their kiss to roll his eyes and sigh out a resigned curse, because getting interrupted seems to be their thing, but Magnus just laughs before briefly pressing his kiss-wet mouth over Alec’s deflect rune, the soft prickle of the goatee making Alec give a breathy chuckle. 

They’re tangled in each other up against the door, long legs wrapped around a muscular waist, Magnus’ weight pressed against Alec, chest to chest, Magnus’ hands travelling over Alec’s thighs and ass, Alec’s hands tugging at hair, bodies alive with slow dripping pleasure that’s now been ripped from them in the most unfair of ways. The air between them is humid with possibility, with the unspoken ideas, some of them including Alec dropping to his knees and some with them sans clothes, just coal-hot skin, moans reverberating through the room like a choir echo and Alexander whispered like a praise.

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Creepypasta #1120: A Quick Guide Of What Not To Do When You Get Lost During A Hike

Length: Long

I’ve been hiking the woods behind my house ever since I was eighteen years old. I know every single trail like the palm of my hand. I try and go at least twice a week, sometimes just once if I’ve been particularly busy. It has a dense kind of forestry, where the branches connect at the canopy and filter out most of the sun.

The trail I frequent is pretty famous now, not like it was when I had first begun taking it. It’s my favorite, because it leads deep into the unknown areas and right to a beautiful creek. It always feels like I’m exploring. And if I’m lucky, I’ll catch glimpses of the local wildlife.

Anyone who goes into the woods occasionally knows that it looks different throughout the day due to the placement of the sun. The shadows fall in other areas and are sometimes more elongated.

I’m used to the ever changing ways. But yesterday, something happened to me that I just couldn’t quite explain within rational reasoning. I’m going to let you guys know what happened. At the same time, I’m going to tell you what not to do when you get lost during a hike.

Number one: Never, ever lose yourself. No, this isn’t some deep shit that I’m trying to anchor into your hearts. I mean it literally; don’t let yourself get lost. Keep track of where you are. Only veer off familiar trails if you have a good idea of where it leads to.

So, as you could probably tell, I did exactly that.

My boots were stomping over the flattened dirt, high grass, and dense packs of trees lining either side of me. It stays warm year round where I live, so the leaves were still plentiful and shaded me from the sun. I passed by the group of rocks that that I call the “angry wife”, as it resembles the angry face of an old woman.

I was about forty minutes from the entrance of the woods. To my left, right after “angry wife” rock, I noticed something that I had never seen before. It was the tiniest, most subtle trail. It looked like it had been barely used. From what I could tell, it was man made, not by the wildlife. But hey, I’m no fucking expert.

Stupidly, I veered from my usual path. It had been a good day. I was in a fantastic mood and felt like poking out of my comfort zone. I was on wide alert as I cautiously took a few steps away from my safe zone. It looked completely normal at first. Beautiful, even. I could feel a wide smile spreading over my face.

The golden sun was bleeding through the canopies, lighting the way in a warm glow. Butterflies bounced around in front of me. Birds chirped loudly as they playfully flew in and out of sight.

Number two: Never lose track of time.

I lost track of time. I thought it had only been about twenty minutes since I had started my mini exploration. When I checked my phone (which of course, had no signal), it had been almost an hour. Stunned, I stopped in my tracks, immediately spinning around to make my way back to the original trail. I made a mental note to come back and walk through the rest of that new path.

As I was walking back, the sun was beginning to set. Remember how I said the forest changed how it looked through the day? Well, that’s what happened, except it was multiplied by about a thousand. I had been hiking in the dark. Hell, I’d spent whole weekends in these woods. It’s never looked this way.

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Prompt #32: I think I’m in love with you and I’m terrified.

For: @michonnesbooty

The moon is high in the dark sky. The small church in the middle of the woods is alive with movement, contrary to the still trees around them. Candles line the floor and the windows as they crack open bottles of wine, pouring each other glasses of the sweet, red nectar. They keep their voices hush, just in case there is danger lurking, but they laugh and tell stories of their old lives as they chow down on peas and carrots, canned string beans and creamed corn. It’s no dinner for the Gods, but it’s dinner. Not one of them can honestly remember the last time they had a meal that didn’t consist of wild berries and flower petals (or worms, in Daryl’s case). Rick keeps the young Judith occupied as she feeds him string beans, one at a time. He plays with her chubby feet as Tyreese leans over to make a goofy face at her. The samurai sits on his left, letting her thin, skilled fingers brush through the little girls’ blonde hair before she returns her attention to Abe’s loud and boisterous story.

She laughs and he freezes. His chest tightens at the sound and he’s suddenly aware of how close she is sitting to him. It’s been so long since he’s heard her laugh. Sure, either Glenn or Carl or hell, even Daryl, will draw a giggle from her but it’s so fleeting. It’s always gone before it even really gets started. But this laugh; this laugh is so good. So full. So warm. So alive. Her leg brushes up against his and he has to take a breath. Don’t start this again. You’re not… Lori hasn’t been gone long…

A few hours pass and his family has spread out through the church. Carol slipped out without being noticed. Daryl went out for a smoke and Bob, well, Bob is being Bob out front, “guarding” the door. Maggie is stretched out on one of the pews with Glenn leaning against the long, wooden bench by her head. She is positioned at Maggie’s curled knees, eyeing the green eyed Southern belle and her beau as she speaks. Rick doesn’t even hear the words coming out of her mouth, as he’s transfixed by her mouth. Those plump lips moving and curling up as the small group shares a laugh. She is so beautiful. Her locs fall over her shoulders, brushing against her dark skin with a subtlety, just as his fingers itch to. Her brown leather vest hugs her torso and chest, accenting those two healthy mountains perched proudly beneath her purple tank. He’s lost so many hours fantasizing about running his tongue through the valley of her breasts. Teasing her thick, hard nipples. Swirling around her dark, round areola.

He slams his eyes shut, angrily almost. You have to fucking stop this shit. Jesus. She laughs again and it breaks through the muddled white noise of his daydream, rattling him to his core. He can’t take it. He stands quickly and takes off toward the doors, Carl’s eyes on him as he retreats. He bursts through the wooden double doors and closes them behind him, leaning against them as he draws a deep breath of fresh air. Daryl and Bob are both gone, but at this point, Rick wouldn’t have noticed them anyway. He sinks down on the rickety step and drops his head into his hands, wringing his fingers through his dirty, long hair. He can’t take it anymore. This thick feeling crushing his chest. It’s like an elephant sitting on him, sinking on him harder and harder every day. This is different, you know that. That’s what this is.

He doesn’t just want to fuck her, although, he’d sink to his knees and praise God if he ever got the chance to. It’s been so long for him, but that’s not it. It’s not. He just wants to be there. He wants to be there when she wakes up in the morning. He wants to be the first person she lays eyes on and the last person she sees before she falls asleep. He wants to hold her hand as they walk. He wants to listen to her as she cries lightly. He wants to be the one to make her laugh. He wants to console her, bathe her, touch her. He wants to love her. From now until the end of time, and then for a thousand years after the end. He doesn’t want to just fuck her. He wants to be hers. Completely.

Problem is, he already is. He’s already hers. He thinks she’s owned him since that day at the fence. Even Carl felt it; knew that she was different. Rick isn’t good with different. Never was. Lori knew it and hated that about him. But she knew, deep down, that she wasn’t different. That’s why he was so quiet, so content, so familiar with her. She didn’t have what it took to challenge him. To make him uneasy. To make him wonder. That’s why they fought. That’s why she screamed at him, called him every name in the book and then some. That’s why she hated him. Because she knew that he knew she wasn’t enough for him anymore.

In some ways, he was happy Lori didn’t make it at the prison. It would have killed her to see him fawning over this new woman. She’d be incredibly jealous from the start, just at the samurai’s mere skill with her weapon, her tenacity, and her strength. Both physical and mental. Something Lori never possessed. But to see her husband, who had barely acknowledged her presence for the past nine months, fall in love with her. That’d crush her. That would end everything that she knew with a finality that couldn’t be erased. And, no matter how cruel she was or had been to him, he could never return the favor. Not like that.

His heart pounds in his chest, feeling as if his ribs might break from the pressure. He just admitted it. He knows what it is; this thick feeling. He loves her. Deeply. Uncontrollably. Honestly. Rick loves Michonne. He takes another breath, sliding his eyes toward the dense trees at his right. Why is he so scared? It’s not the thoughts of Lori, that’s guilt. It’s not what anyone else would think, that’s irrelevant to him. It’s because he can’t do it again, he can’t lose another one. No, that’s not it either. It’s not that he can’t lose another one. He can’t lose the only one. He loved Lori, but not like this. It didn’t encompass him, it didn’t consume him, it didn’t eat away at everything he knew to be true. Not like this. That’s what terrifies him. Losing Her. God, if he wasn’t already filled with enough guilt.

He also wants to be enough. For her. For her love, for her attention, for her time. That’s what scares him too. That he won’t be enough. So, he swallows harshly. Swallows his pride, his love for her, his fears and his impending happiness. He swallows it all and hides it away in the little box that was once only occupied by his feelings toward Lori. He takes another breath, his heartbeat calming, the elephant slowly lifting from his chest. He can’t think about this. There’s too much for them to focus on for him to be moping around like a love-sick puppy. Like not dying. Like, trying to find a place for his children to lay their heads. Like, trying to stay together. So, he pushes it away and stands. He takes another breath. He walks back into the church, closing the doors behind him, and trudges over toward the terrified Father.

He occupies his mind with idle threats of a swift death for the suit clad man, “You’re hiding something, and it’s pretty obvious it’s something you can’t hide from. That’s your business,” He says lowly, his eyes shifting between the Fathers’ wide gaze, “But these people, these people are my family. And if what your hiding somehow hurts them in any way, I’ll kill you.”

And now, he’s ready to kill for her too.

Tricking the Heart

Originally posted by lucifersagents

Characters: Gabe x Cupid!Reader, Michael, Raphael

Word Count: 400

Warnings: Pranks, Fluff, OOC Angels

Request:  Gabriel/Reader or Gabriel/OC where they are pulling pranks on the other characters together and it turns romantic/sweet/steamy.  (Set in Heaven before the fall of Lucifer.)

A/N:  I realize that Angels wouldn’t really have romantic relationships with each other….but idk…go rain on someone else’s parade, why don’t ‘cha!  

“Gabriel, this is not funny!”  Michael bellowed through the garden as you ran, hand in hand with Gabriel.  He led you through the dense trees, dancing around obstacles on light feet.  

“Y/N, we know you are involved as well,” Raphael called.  Gabriel turned to look back towards his brothers, lost somewhere back in the woods.  You giggled, clutching his hand tighter.

“They are gaining on us,” you said breathlessly, willing to follow anywhere the Archangel led you. “Don’t you fret, baby cakes,” Gabriel whispered.  “I know a short cut.”  He pushed a tree branch aside and tugged you closer towards him.  

His ‘short cut’ was in fact, a hole he’d ripped in space time leading you elsewhere.  He tugged you tighter towards him, stepping back into the shadows.  You were in a cave, an arid, dry cave, half a world away from where you’d been.  Still, you could feel the other Angels pursuing you.

“Y/N, Cupid,” Michael called out to you in your mind, addressing both your name and rank in the heavenly fleet, considerably lower than that of himself and his brother.  “We know you are under our brother’s guidance.  If you surrender to our discipline, your punishment will be lessened.”

“Spoil sports,” Gabriel murmured.  “They’re bluffing; they can’t do anything to you just because they have no sense of humor.”

“You think Michael’s wigs will ever return to their natural color?”  You asked, caught up in the glow from Gabriel’s radiant features.

“If you ask me,” he whispered, “I think they look better bright pink.”  

You giggled.  

“And Raphael?”  You asked.

“Well, a little grounding is good for him.  Those wings were an electrical hazard!”  His laughter as infectious.  You smiled up at the Angel, feeling awash in his joyful insolence.  

“I do enjoy playing these games with you, Gabriel,” you said, aware that his hands were still clutching you tightly.  “Often I do not wish for them to end.”

“Then don’t let them,” he murmured, his lips so close to yours.

“And how do you propose we do that,” you asked, drinking him in.

“I’m going to start by never letting you go,” Gabriel finished, ducking down to capture your lips with his.

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Bit of imagery for my loves
  • Aries: Freedom comes from the rush of energy, the rapid movement of your legs over hot coals, giving sparks behind you
  • Taurus: A hand caresses my back, you are covered in the finest white silk, you smile, then are still to take control as you gaze over the land
  • Gemini: A hurtling wind rushes over water and through cities, breathed in by everyone, taking in knowledge of all you encounter
  • Cancer: A watchful mother moon gazed lovingly upon her children dancing in the tides, gently lapping on the shore, enveloped in warm, silver light
  • Leo: Gold fires blaze from your eyes as you lead a nation, a laugh and a steely gaze proves you are the Ruler as you are at one with your audience
  • Virgo: Calculating steps climbing up a mountain side, freedom washes around you deep in the forest, as you wander through dense trees and lush green
  • Libra: Togetherness and synergy, you throw your head back laughing, leaning back into a warm soul where you feel at home
  • Scorpio: A dark photography room with that faint red light encapsulates you into the dimension, your images the only source of vulnerability and power, your love of your subjects displayed through them
  • Sagittarius: Bonfires and dancing, travelling with friends in the van as your throw your hands and head back to look at the stars, invigorated and expanded
  • Capricorn: Kind and gracious leader, driven by results, dressed in black with a smirk on your face at the witty conversation, proud of your home
  • Aquarius: Freedom and expansion, you sit on a rooftop as the sun rises from a night out, never tired, you stare at the fading stars and know you feel whole and loved
  • Pisces: a hand creating the universal knowledge and love, expressing the deeper knowledge you contain, dreaming into the night as you surround yourself with peace
werewolf andrew au

Andrew Minyard first changed when he was fifteen years old. He don’t remember what led to the change, whether he was born this way or bitten, like all of the stories implied. All he remembers is being sick all week. Nicky had been worried but he was a worrier, so Andrew hadn’t really thought much about his fever. The fever never relented and he took to wandering the quiet neighborhood streets at night in an attempt to cool off. He couldn’t sleep anyways. On the fifth night of his fever, it happened for the first time.

Excruciating pain was all he remembered, but he supposed that his bones breaking and reforming into the skeleton of some monster might cause a fair amount of pain.

He didn’t remember it the first handful of times he changed, but by the time he was at Palmetto State he was becoming well acquainted with the process. There wasn’t really ever a time when he thought he would be used to the horrific change, but he definitely thought it had gotten slightly easier as he learned how to brace himself for the pain, how to anticipate it’s arrival.

The only good thing about the drugs they had him on was that it dulled the senses to the point that he could almost ignore the change as it happened. Never afterward. Changing to and changing back was too much pain for one man to handle, and he always blacked out and woke up naked in the woods sore all over.

He was off his meds now and it was the first time he had felt the change coming on since. He wasn’t afraid, Andrew Minyard was afraid of very few things, but becoming the monster everyone saw him as was not something that he was afraid of at all.

Being on a team of misfits meant that he could at least share his secret with people. Aaron was the only one on the team without a “gift” as the upperclassmen were so keen on calling it, and it was a source of barely concealed hatred for Aaron. Andrew didn’t know how he became what he was, but he was and he was alone. He had always been alone and he was okay with that.

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Dark Secrets - Part 1

Context: You are a Slytherin who enjoys long walks in the Forbidden Forest, keeping dark secrets, and falling for a guy you never thought you’d fall for.

Warnings: Just some tears.

It had been an exceptionally long time since you had visited the Forbidden Forest, knowing that if someone caught you, it’d be your head you would have to pay with. Most students wouldn’t dare stepping through the dark and dense trees at night; heck they wouldn’t even try that in the daytime. But you were never one to follow rules, even with some of the highest marks in the school. You preferred the quiet and dark of the forest though, knowing that whenever you needed to clear your head, it was only a short and dangerous walk away.

As you leapt over fallen trees and ducked under low branches, you saw someone off in the distance and immediately felt fear rise in your chest. If it was someone from the school, you’d be dead. If it was someone from the forest, you’d be really dead. But for some reason, you stayed rooted in your spot, only feet from the person. It was a male, with platinum blonde hair, wearing a black suit; his wand steadily shaking in his hand.

You don’t know what compelled you to do this but you decided to reach out and touch him, hoping to alleviate this fear in your chest and get on with your punishment. As your hand brushed his shoulder, he jerked around and pointed his wand at you. You fell backwards with your hands up in the air.

“Don’t hurt me.” You screamed, hoping to live to see who it was.


You opened your eyes to a familiar voice and saw Draco Malfoy himself, standing there with a shaky hand still pointing his wand at you.

“Malfoy? What are you doing out here?” You asked, standing up and dusting your behind off.

“You need to get out of here. Quickly. It’s not safe.” He said, his hand still trembling and his face flushed red. Tears played at the edge of his eyes and you knew something was very wrong.

“What’s wrong, Draco?” You asked, walking closer to him. He shook his head ferociously as you took another step forward.

“You need to leave before you get hurt.” He said. You took another step towards him until his wand was right in front of your chest. You reached out, pushing his hand down and drawing closer to him until your bodies were almost touching.

“Whatever is going on, you can talk to me.” He stopped moving for a moment before you both heard the snapping of branches behind you.

“Quick, hide!” He seethed at you. You obeyed and ducked into some bushes, wand at ready. There was a dark figure cloaked in black walking towards Draco. You couldn’t make out his face until he spoke and then that’s when you knew.


“Draco, it’s so nice to finally have you on our side. Are you ready to serve me and only me?” He hissed at Malfoy. You felt yourself cringe knowing that Draco didn’t want this at all.

“If it’s for my family and for my friends, I will do anything.” Draco said, still visibly shaking.

“Foolish boy, they will all leave you. They always do. But I will never betray you, as long as you never betray me.” Draco closed his eyes before opening them again to reveal more than fear but pain and sorrow.

“I will do anything to keep my loved ones safe. So do what you must.” He said rolling up his sleeve to reveal his bare arm.

The gargling laugh that escaped from Voldemort’s lips was one that would haunt your dreams for eternity. His face contorted as he cast a spell that put Draco on his knees. You watched in horror as the skin of his arm began moving; a black line forming just above his wrist and the dark mark appearing as alarming as ever. Tears sprung to your eyes as you realized what Draco had done. He sold his soul to save his family, not knowing the consequences that lay before him. Typical Draco to jump into things before really thinking about what it was he was doing.

Voldemort moved to lean over him, holding his head to whisper something you could hardly make out. As he let go of Draco, you felt his eyes on you, tears streaming down his face. He knew you were still there. He knew what you had witnessed. Voldemort moved quickly and was gone just as he had come. You waited a moment before moving, making sure to step lightly as to not make so much noise. You rushed to Draco’s side, cradling his head in your hands, feeling his tears dripping down your arm.

“I had to. I had to do it for them.” He sobbed. You held him close to you, shushing him and rubbing his back in circular motions.

“I know. I’ll help you get through this. Trust in me to help you, please.” You said, rocking him back and forth. He held onto you like a newborn holds onto their mother. You never felt so much pain for someone that you barely knew but you knew that you had to help him get through this, because slytherins never turned their backs on one another.

A/N: Currently sitting in my sports bra so I can go to the gym. Please keep me in your thoughts. I am going through a very rough patch in my life and my escape is in my writing. I look forward to continuing this for you guys. Love you all.

Part two

Originally posted by nellaey

Mr. Laufeyson's Ward

TITLE: Mr. Laufeyson’s Ward


AUTHOR: goddessofmischief

ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine you are living in the late 1800’s and your parents pass away due to a tragic accident. Leaving you an orphan, you are sent to a miserable orphanage. Then, a mysterious and harsh man named Loki visits the orphanage and takes you on as his ward. He brings you to his crumbling mansion in the English countryside, where you face his cruel intentions, and eventually discover that you care for him much more than you’d like to admit. 


NOTES/WARNINGS: Here is the second chapter. Thank you so much for your interest in my story!

Silence enveloped the inside of the small carriage as we travelled further into the countryside. The only noises were the occasional neighs from the horses, and the sound of the carriage’s wheels, and horse hooves, against the gravel road.

My new guardian sat right in front of me and, as it was very cramped, our knees practically touched. His musky cologne was made even more apparent in the enclosed space. 

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Sometimes Rain Falls

A BTS Fanfiction

Type: AU/Alternative Universe

Summary: Sometimes a normal life is a good one to lead; its nice…its easy…
But sometimes, normal isn’t the way that things were meant to be. And when you’re chosen as a possible candidate for one of the kingdom’s 7 princes, life isn’t as nice and easy as you always presumed it to be…especially when you catch the eye of more than one of them…



Chapter 20 - The End

‘….I told her to Run…’

You don’t hesitate.

Giving your body over to the survival instincts that were screaming to take over, you instantly turn around and begin to sprint in the opposite direction to the monster that stood before you, having to bunch your dress into your arms to run so that you didn’t trip over it, and not even caring that you had no idea where you were going as you bolt away, not when the voices in your head were all screaming one word over and over again.


Its when you register the sound of maniacal laughter echoing behind you, and you hear his footfalls begin to thump against the ground, that your heart almost doubles the speed it was racing in your chest, and you will yourself to move faster, the adrenaline in your body complying, despite your legs screaming in protest.

Do you remember the first time you looked at me, Y/N? Do you remember the way you’d felt drawn to me?’ He calls as you run, the sound of his voice causing terror to reign down on you as you try to focus on weaving desperately through the trees, continuing to listen to him as you go.

‘…I made you feel that way. I made every princess feel that way…but you were the easiest to manipulate.’

‘Its always been my plan you see; to destroy each princess so that my father’s fairytale ending is ruined…and from the second I met you riding the horses in the fields, I could feel the interest you had in me; you so wanted to know why I was so closed off that I felt tempted to indulge you, to bring you into my world and make you see things my way. But before I could, Hoseok had become smitten with you…the stupid bastard barely let you out of his sight…but I guess that just made it more fun to make you my prey.’ He calls, the evil dripping from every word and you knew he was smirking without even looking back at him, the image in your minds eye causing a whimper to escape you as you feel your ankle twist, but you refuse to stop running.

‘Even when you saw me in the corridor that night, when I showed you my true form…I could see the fear as it burned in your eyes…it intrigued me, it made the monster within demand to hunt you.’

‘And then at the ball, you looked so beautiful in that dress that I couldn’t help but be tempted by you; for a minute, I even questioned whether my need genuinely was to do with wanting your blood, or whether I’d betrayed myself and it was actually because I’d grown a want of you…’ he says, the words sounding like a whisper in your ear, and you stumble as you turn your head quickly to the side, only seeing the denseness of the trees, before hearing his deep laugh behind you and once again beginning to sprint forward, praying to whatever power there was that you’d make it somewhere, anywhere out of the forest, before he got to you.

‘Your observational skills surprised me; that first time you asked me why my eyes go black? I was taken by surprise to be honest- that could have added to the reason why I chose to kill her that night, since I was so frustrated at how you could notice something that none of the other Princesses seemed to…

‘Do you remember the day she died, Y/N? Does it all make sense now?’

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