“I know I haven’t always been … friendly,” she began, awkwardly. “I mean - I … Creators, just - what I wanted to say is that I have been thinking lately. A lot. About … you.” It was perhaps the most clumsy she’d felt since childhood. And yet there he was, looking struck by her words, unsure, hopeful.
Midsummer’s Light on the Longest Night of the Year
Taking a long walk late on Midsummer’s Night (St John’s Day for you out-of-towners) in Sweden. Even though we are not very far North, the sun never seems to really set. A magical light encapsulates you; time becomes fluid; the landscape swallows you. It is not difficult to imagine olden times when people, after having stayed up much later than usual on Midsummer’s, eaten much more fatty food than usual, and been drinking like a bunch of bastards, would dream up all sorts of mythical creatures lurking in the woods and on their very doorsteps. There should not be such long shadows that late at night, one might think to oneself walking through what feels like pure, albeit lithe, sunlight which, despite its persistence, does not offer much warmth anymore.
summary:there’s a werewolf in that forest behind your house, they told you, and he’ll eat you before you can even beg for mercy.
pairing: jungkook x reader word count: 1.5k genre: angst a/n: i honestly don’t know WHAT genre this falls into, since it’s so short and ends very abruptly. angst was just a guess, because this is by no means fluff. requested by anon!
There’s a forest behind the cottage you call home, wooded and misty, and you know it like the back of your hand. Your parents, bless them, never kept the best eye on you when they’d bring you out into the garden, and while they’d get distracted with gardening and grilling and the dog, you’d venture into the great unknown, stepping a little further into the forest each day. By the time you reached the final year of your free, public schooling, you’d mapped it out, end to end, cover to cover, each branch, each flower, each three-leaf clover familiar under the pads of your fingers.
Your neighbors never liked that forest, and they never trusted the fact that you always emerged from it unharmed, untouched. It’s hiding something, they tell you. A monster that lurks in the shadows of the night, waiting for its next victim. A savage beast, with a thirst for human blood. Be careful, they warn. Don’t ever go into that forest at night, for you may never see the light of day.