i wish i could take him home

Only Love

Originally posted by sincerelysaraahh

Summary: Steve isn’t paying attention to you, and you don’t like it one bit.

Warning: angst, confidence issues

Masterlist


Steve wasn’t paying attention to you, and you hated it. You had come home from work, looking forward to some cuddles with your boyfriend and a relaxing evening. But to your dismay, Steve was busy writing reports about his last mission to Amsterdam.

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anonymous asked:

Roommates AUs?

I loooove this AU! Thank you for requesting this! Let me know if you’ve seen more!

(gif by @cldstrifes )


Roommate AU


When Life Gives You Lemons, Add Sugar by shereadsthestars, Mature, 7.7k
What could possibly be worse than getting stuck with a roommate you weren’t expecting? Discovering that roommate is none other than Viktor f*cking Nikiforov. I LOVE THIS FIC SO SO MUCH! 

centripetal force by braveten, Explicit, 85k
Victor speaks seven languages. (Physics isn’t one of them.) Luckily, though, he ends up rooming with his antithesis: a shy, black-haired boy who just so happens to be a physics major. LOVE this!

not gold like in your dreams by ebenroot, Teen, 66k (WIP)
in which Victor and Yuuri are roommates and Yuuri has a secret. WOW!!

cover story by fan_nerd, Explicit, 8.2k
Yuuri stares down at the person standing in the doorway. The stranger hisses, “Who do you think you are, anyways?”
Quickly, before he can really think about it, Yuuri responds, “I’m Victor’s boyfriend.”
It’s a lie, but the words feel good in his mouth, and for some reason, he doesn’t want to take them back. SO good! Love this fic!

Just Hold On (We’re Going Home) by kiaronna, Mature, 23k
Where Yuuri remembers the banquet, Viktor forgets, and Yakov Feltsman has his own plans. I screamed so much while reading this it’s so so so amazing OMG

Foresight, not just foreplay by myoue, Mature, 6.7k
There’s no way I could have casual sex, Victor says, I’d fall in love immediately. Smutty and sweet!

The melody of your soul by Analys, Mature, 5.5k (WIP)
Katsuki Yuuri is a talented singer with a voice that spellbinds anybody that hears him sing but his stage fright and anxiety takes the best of him. He wishes to become a world acknowledged singer and his dream starts taking form when he’s accepted at the prestigious Juilliard School with his childhood friend, Phichit. However, Yuuri ends up rooming with a total stranger, a senior student that is supposed to guide him through his first semester and help him overcome his stage fright. Roommate that turns out to be the school prodigy, Victor Nikiforov. Really good so far!

stargazer606  asked:

Can you RFA gang being left alone with their new baby for the first time. Like MC had to go grab diapers or something and they are alone with the baby for the first tine

◉ Yoosung 

  • For a while he just watched the baby sleeping
  • He leaned over the crib and contemplated touching the babies little feet
  • But he didn’t want to disturb the infants sleep
  • It was odd for him to be the only one home
  • He wasn’t exactly worried…
  • But it was just strange to think that you weren’t there if he needed help
  • Eventually he got on LOLOL while he waited for you and the baby napped
  • He was in the middle of playing when he heard soft cries coming from the crib
  • It took him a second to remember that you weren’t home
  • Freaked out and jumped up to get the baby
    • “Awww…are we hungry little guy?”
  • He picked him up so delicately and held him in his arms
  • Grabbed a bottle from the fridge and prepared it while rocking the baby
    • “Wanna watch daddy beat some monsters while you eat?” he smiled, “your dad is so good, he can play with one hand!”
  • He felt pretty proud of himself and his multitasking abilities
  • Explained everything he was doing in the game
  • Every now and then he’d stop to give a light kiss to the babies head
  • And he laughed when he got excited at defeating a monster and the baby smiled
    • “Oh! You like that? No one can beat your dad!”
  • He was just about to stop playing when you came home
    • “Oh, he’s awake? How is everything?” you asked
    • “Great, honey. He just ate…and I think he likes watching me play”
  • You laughed as you brought your bags inside
    • “Now don’t start using the baby as an excuse to get online.”
    • “No! He laughed I swear!” he gave you a kiss

◉ Jumin

  • He’s not worried at all when you have to leave and fetch diapers
  • After all, he’s Jumin Han
  • He can handle anything
  • He’s feeling pretty confident until the baby starts crying
  • He holds her at eye level
    • “Now, what’s the matter…”
  • Right, she can’t talk
    • “You’ve just eaten…so you can’t be hungry…”
  • He checks her diaper, but it’s dry
    • “Now, how did MC do this?”
  • He holds her to his chest and starts to pat her back
  • Thinking maybe she needs to burp?
  • After several minutes of her still crying he is starting to get worried
  • He doesn’t want MC to come back and think he can’t handle his child
  • As he begins to rock her he hums a little bit
  • To his surprise she starts to quiet down and relax
    • “Oh? You like that?”
  • He puts on some soft opera music and hums along for her
  • Pretty soon her eyes are closing and she drifts off to sleep
  • Just as you come home
  • You can hear him humming as you creep into the bedroom
  • You smile wide
  • And see him laying her down gently in the crib
  • He closes the door behind you both and silently follows you back to the main room
    • “How was she?” you smile
    • “Just fine, perfect as always,” he kisses you

◉ Zen

  • Ummm…wait, what?
  • Okay he is a little panicky
  • It’s not that he doesn’t want to, but he is scared of doing something wrong
  • Has you show where everything is like 5 times
    • “Zen, babe, you know what to do. Stop psyching yourself out,” you laugh
    • “You’re right…I’m sorry,” he takes a deep breath and holds the baby
  • Watches as you leave the apartment
  • Stares down at the baby in his arms for a while and smiles at how cute she is
  • He doesn’t know what to do at first
    • “Wanna help me run some lines?”
  • Sits with her on the couch and reads from his script
    • “I’ve listened to your lies for the last time, Rebecca!” he reads
  • The baby smiles and coos a little laugh
    • “No, you’re supposed to be upset you little cutie. Don’t worry, we have plenty of time to practice,” he kisses her forehead
  • She’s making little faces and he can’t help but take out his phone
    • “Mommy will want to see this!”
  • He’s taking selfies and short videos and sending them to you
    • “Me and the little actress in training are having a good time! Miss you!”
  • When she falls asleep he doesn’t want to put her down
  • Finally you come home and see them quietly sitting together, her nestled in his arms
    • “Why don’t you put her in her crib?” you say sweetly as you place a hand on his shoulder
  • He’s looking down on her and running a finger on her cheek
    • “I will…in a minute,” he smiles

◉ Jaehee

  • She’s got this honestly 
  • She has the babies whole schedule planned out
  • Feeding and nap times
  • She knows approximately how many diapers you guys go through in a day etc
  • She is supermom
  • And she urges you to go out and get some time for yourself
    • “Bring me back a pastry and a coffee from the cafe, please,” she smiles and calls to you as you leave the apartment
  • Plays her favorite Zen musical on the television while she rocks the baby
    • “This is the best number,” she whispers
  • Sings along to it
  • And the baby smiles
  • She’d never let anyone else hear her singing, though
  • Dances a bit while she rocks the baby
    • “I’ll take you to all of the shows you want when you get a little older. Maybe you’ll be an actor like Zen! Oh, but you don’t have to. You can be anything you want and I’ll still love you”
  • She almost lost track of time and rushes to get a bottle prepared
  • Just as it is warm enough he starts to get fussy
    • “I know, I know, here you go baby”
  • Her favorite thing is feeding him
  • Well, almost favorite thing
  • She loves when he falls asleep after eating
  • Which he always does
  • She places his sleeping frame gently in the crib
  • And presses a finger to her lips to let you know that you need to be quiet as you enter the apartment once again
    • “Your coffee and pastry as requested,” you whisper and hand them to her
    • “Thank you so much, I really needed this,” she sighs and gives you a quick kiss before taking a sip

◉ Saeyoung

  • It’s all fun and games until the reality hits that he’s alone with a tiny human that needs him
  • He’s read enough book and articles on the internet to take care of his own child
  • Sighs and reassures himself
  • Places her in his sling as he makes her a bottle
  • He LOVES baby wearing
  • Keeps his hands free
  • So nervous that he’s acting like he’s never made a bottle before in his life
  • Testing the heat on his skin over and over because he’s worried it might be just a little too warm
  • Finally it’s good enough and he sits down to feed her
    • “You have milk, daddy has chips!”
  • Pops a few HBC in his mouth
  • Drops a couple crumbs on her
    • “Whoops!” wipes them off, “don’t tell mommy” >.>….
  • Notices she looks a little weird
    • “What’s that face? You can’t have any chips yet you don’t have teeth”
  • Takes the bottle from her and starts to pat her back for a burp
  • And she spits up all over him
    • “Noooo! My hoodie!” T_T
  • Okay but he laughs a little
  • Takes it off and throws it in the wash
    • “You’re the first and hopefully the last girl to ever puke on me…you’re lucky you’re cute”
  • Grabs a book and holds her in the rocking chair
    • “I know you’re little, but I think you’ll like this story”
  • Reads to her until she falls asleep
  • And even he is dozing off a bit when you come home
  • You take her from him and put her in the crib
    • “Where is your hoodie?” you ask when you notice he isn’t wearing it
    • “She destroyed it,” he cries
  • You just laugh and laugh
    • “I wish I could have been here to see that,” you kiss him
    • “It’s not funny!” he pouts
Bruised (Richie/Eddie) 12/12

Summary: It’s 1993 and the summer from many years ago is dead and gone. Many have drifted apart from the Losers club and its at the point where there is no club at all. The atmosphere is cold just like the winter months and the only blushes to be found are the ones that are caused from the piercing spikes of cold that heat skin up. Being a teenage boy is hard; especially for the two boys that now count each other as strangers. In which both boys make a plan, but both disrupt each others.

Warning(s): Sensitive themes, depression, ptsd, panic attack

A/N: Welcome to the last part!! : ) thankyou all for sticking around and reading.

Part 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 |

A month had passed since the tragedy. 

A month without any news of Eddie’s awakening. 

A month without a single visit from someone other than Beverly.

A month without happiness

A month without love.

A month without Eddie.

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;currents | (m)

pairing— jung hoseok x reader
genre/warnings— smut, fluff, slight angst (this is low-key cute and sad at the same time, my heart)
words— 5,959

:: summary: you’ve been in a long-distance friendship with Hoseok for a couple of years, hiding feelings that you think he may also reciprocate. What happens when you finally cross paths with him again…

note. based on a request. Named after this song here. Also, periods of italics indicate the characters are speaking English!

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WHAT IS UP yALL

so i got this idea that derry was the upside down of hawinks and someone told me to write it, so here i am.

however, my wonderful co-writer and beta @richiewheeler helped me out A TON and she’s gonna be helping me write this whole fic so pls give her some love as well pls and thx

i hope you guys like it! we are SUPER DUPER proud of it 

without further ado, here is my stranger things/it crossover


summary: a stranger things/it crossover fic 

pairings: reddie def, and lots of others to be determined

words: 1991




Will Byers always had to ride his bike home at night, it seemed. Mike’s Dungeons and Dragons games managed to always run way longer than the group had anticipated, usually, 10 hours was a normal time frame for them. School nights always ruined the flow of it, sure, but Will’s team always won. Sometimes he wondered if Mike let them win, or, perhaps, it was just luck.

His older brother Jonathan was working a late shift, as was their mother, which was a common occurrence. He didn’t mind riding his bike so late, he’d gotten used to it. Nothing happened in Hawkins, so it was almost therapeutic. The sound of his bike wheels thumping against the pavement and crickets that chirped in the darkness.

Mirkwood, a street so familiar to him he could almost see it just as he would in the day, stretched in front of him. Since it was only a fall Sunday, there was no one there. He hummed to himself and looked through the woods of Hawkins Forest. He’s almost home.

Will looked back at the road, and saw a tall figure standing right in the middle of the street. Yelping, he slammed on his breaks, nearly falling off the front of his bike as he skids to a stop.

It was a clown, with wild red hair and a pristine costume. If it were Halloween, Will would’ve been impressed. But the autumn holiday was last month and this didn’t seem like a costume. It was too real as if the face paint wasn’t actually paint at all.

“Hey there, Will. Where are you off to?” The clown spoke, his words causing Will to physically shiver in fear.

His mother’s warnings of don’t talk to strangers rattled in his head, so he just swallowed and wanted to leave it there. But he had to know.

“How did you know my name?” Will asked, his voice sounding scared to his own ears. He wished he could be stronger about it, but he wasn’t.

“I’m a friend of your dad’s,” The clown said. “He tells me all about you, Will.”

He hated the way this guy said his name, and he knew his dad didn’t say many positive things about him. He changed the subject, “Why the clown outfit?”
“Well, I’m Pennywise the Dancing Clown,” The Clown- Pennywise- said, grinning. In the light of the moon, his eyes shined bright and his teeth looked so sharp. “I was just at a party, and I thought I’d take Mirkwood home.”

Will smiled awkwardly a little, “We call this street Mirkwood too.” He didn’t know why he continued to talk to strange man in a clown costume. He almost felt compelled to stay.

“I know,” Pennywise said. Something in Will’s stomach twisted and his fingers clutched the handles of his bike until his knuckles went white.

“My mom’s expecting me home,” Will started to excuse himself, but Pennywise frowned. That frown sent a wave of discomfort through his small frame. A frown like that wasn’t normal. It was far too sinister, too off to be ordinary. The clown tilted his head a bit, his hair staying in the perfect “windblown” shape it had been in. That wasn’t normal either. His eyes, Will noticed, were a bright orange color. Number three on the ‘not normal’ list about this guy. One was lopsided as if he had a lazy eye. One concentrated on Will’s figure, the other looming off slightly to the right of him. Number four, check.

“Let me show you something first.” The clown spoke slowly as if he was trying to be friendlier, more convincing. Will felt as if he didn’t have much of a choice. The man blocked his way regardless, so he stayed put and kept his mouth shut.

The clown smiled once more. His face suddenly contorted, his head snapping to the side violently at a 90-degree angle. That’s when Will realized it was no longer a person. This thing wasn’t human, it never was, to begin with. Will watched in horror as this thing transformed into a large-scale version of the Demogorgon, one of the many pieces in Mike’s Dungeons and Dragons campaign from today. He was terrified, slowly backing up with his bike in a vain attempt to separate himself from this monster as much as he could. Will glanced around him quickly, seeing if he had a possible escape route. He didn’t.

When he glanced back at the monster, it started to advance. With no choice, Will threw his bike down and ran down the street, the thumps growing louder behind him. The last thing he heard was his own terrified scream before he hit the pavement and his vision clouded black.


In a town closer than they thought, Georgie Denbrough bounced beside his brother, Bill, as he made a paper sailboat as a storm crossed through Derry.

This was a tradition they had when it rained, seeing how fast one boat could go in the pouring rain. Georgie liked that even though Bill was sick, he was still gonna let him play. It wouldn’t be the same without him, but they both agreed that tradition was important. They couldn’t miss an opportunity.

“S-she’s all ready, Captain,” Bill said, coughing a little. Georgie nodded vibrantly and took the boat in his hands. Slightly sticky to the touch, he knew how much work his big brother put into it and made sure he handled ‘her’ carefully.

“D-don’t forget your g-galoshes,” Bill reminded as Georgie nearly raced out the door. “M-mom will k-kill you.”

Georgie made a face but nodded once more. When he ran down the stairs to the mudroom, he pulled on the dark green boots that chafed against his ankles.

He ran outside and Georgie turned, waving up to Bill’s window, showing off how well the boat was maintaining its structure in the downpour. Bill waved back at him, so he took that as his signal to start his boat’s journey. The static hum of the walkie-talkie in Georgie’s pocket made him smile, knowing Bill was sorta there with him.

“Be careful.” His brother’s voice crackled and Georgie was off. He placed the boat down near the street curb, watching with glee as it raced down the road following the direction of the water flow.

He tried being careful, he really did, but it was too easy for him to get distracted. Georgie wasn’t too surprised when he smacked into the orange sign, coincidentally at the perfect height to hit his head on. He didn’t want to lose the boat so he tried to keep up, but he cried out in horror as it fell down the sewer drain.

“Bill’s gonna kill me,” He moaned, disappointed in himself. He kneeled down and tried to see if it had caught on something. But instead of seeing the boat, he saw a kid.

Georgie yelped and fell backward, landing on his butt. Even to a little kid like himself, it was a little odd to see someone in a storm drain. The kid in the drain smiled meekly, holding up Georgie’s boat. He had brown hair, that was wet and flat due to the rain. His outfit consisted of a vest with a flannel underneath and a pair of jeans from what Georgie could see, but it was dark in the drain.

“Hey, Georgie, is it?” He asked, looking down at the paper boat. A drop of water landed on the ‘S. S. Georgie’ Bill had written on it, smearing the ink a bit.

Georgie nodded slowly, a little thrown off by his question but answered anyway. “Yeah, that’s me!”

The kid smiled. “Hey, I’m Will Byers. Nice to meet you.”

Georgie smiled back at him. “How did you get in there?” He asked, “Are you stuck?”

Will nodded solemnly, before his expression changed. If people got lightbulbs over their heads like in the cartoons, there would’ve been one above Will’s head. “If you help me out, I can give you your boat back! How does that sound? You can help a new pal out.”

The small Denbrough contemplated it for a second, before agreeing.

Will grinned. “Grab my hand.” He spoke, reaching his hand upwards towards the opening in the drain.

As Georgie reached down, Will’s face changed drastically. It contorted into something sinister, multiple rows of teeth baring in a mere instant.

His scream of agony could be heard all the way down the road but by the time anyone had checked, Georgie Denbrough was gone. The only evidence of that he was ever there was red water slowly flowing into the storm drain.

But no adult nearby saw it.


Will woke up with what he thought was the start of a migraine after the worst nightmare he’d ever experienced. A goddamn clown accosted him when he was just trying to get home. He just wanted to eat Jonathan’s breakfast and see his friends at school. He wanted to hug his mom and have her tell him the nightmare clown couldn’t get to him again until he believed her.

But instead of smelling pancakes and nearly burnt eggs, all it smelled like was like stagnant water and blood.

Will’s eyes snapped open, and all he saw was gray. He pushed up onto his palms and looked around.

He wasn’t in his room, safe in his bed under the covers and dry. Instead, he was in a wide, circular room covered in trash, soaking wet. How long was he asleep? Did he get knocked out?

Something dripped on his shoulder, and he looked up to see a trash pile that nearly skirted the tall ceiling. But more astonishingly, bodies floated. They floated around the room like limp rag dolls that Mike’s sister Holly played with. And they were all upside down.

A sound of squelching caused Will to look to his right, only to come face to face with the same clown that he saw on the street.

As if it wasn’t terrifying before, its clown face was now smothered in blood. It grinned, and the crimson-stained teeth looked even sharper than he remembered.

In its long, twisted fingers, it held an arm with a chunk taken out of it. In that quick glance, he could see blood and muscles and bone.

Will screamed and scrambled backward, a sharp pain in his side as his heart nearly beat out of his chest. How was this real? How was none of that a dream?

No. This is still a dream. This isn’t real, Will focused on convincing himself. He scrunched his eyes shut and dug his nails into his palms.

“Not real, Willie?” The clown’s scratchy voice said, sounding so close. But he refused to open his eyes. “Do you want to see a dream?”

He screamed and his eyes flung open. The clown grabbed him by the throat and leaned in close. Its breath was rancid like the trash that littered around them. It drooled blood and saliva all over him as he squirmed in a vain attempt to escape the clown’s death grip on him.

“I’ll show you a goddamn nightmare.”


so YEAH

i hope you guys liked that as we’d love to write a part dos

let us know how y’all feel about it!

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ask to be on taglist/feedback!

thank you so so much for reading <3

Huntress in the Snow

What if Rhys had met Feyre back when she was still a little girl, alone in the woods and hunting for her family? Inspired by this beautiful work of art, here’s the hypothetical meeting between an abused, tired Rhysand and a tiny Feyre.

 

Rhysand rarely leaves Amarantha’s court Under the Mountain.

He rarely leaves her bedroom, for that matter. Life is just a frenzy of lies, sex, dancing, drinking, hatred and torture these days and he has long given up on making his existence bearable. He doesn’t really care anymore.

He doesn’t care for the stares they give him, the names. He doesn’t care for those pitying glances. He doesn’t care when Amarantha is straddling him, using him, her fingers pulling his hair.

Spring Court is covered in masks right now, but Rhysand might as well be wearing one, too. He doesn’t recognize himself in the mirror anymore. He murmurs things in her ears, he lies, promises, he kills on her behalf, he smirks and laughs and betrays, and he isn’t sure he can ever get back from that.

He’s doing it for Velaris and his beloved ones. That is what he tells himself, over and over and over again, when he’s buried inside her or when he snaps someone’s neck. It’s the only reason he’s still holding on. Velaris. Mor. Amren. His brothers. His court.

Court of Dreams. It’s like a bitter joke, ashes in his mouth. He doesn’t know if he will ever see them again. Doesn’t know if he wants to- after what he’s done.  

He probably won’t ever see them again. This nightmare will never end.

Life is miserable. Rhys doesn’t care.

With the way things are developing right now, his old enemy Tamlin is going to join them in a few years- 42 years have passed and that fool, that idiotic fool hasn’t managed to break the curse. If he realizes that he could save them all, Rhysand doesn’t know. Perhaps Tamlin is just trying to protect those he loves as well. Perhaps he’s trying- perhaps he’s fighting.

Perhaps he’s not.

Rhysand doesn’t care.

He also doesn’t care that Amarantha sends him to the human realm today. To find a group of fae from Dawn Court that have escaped; find them, bring them to her, watch her torture and kill them and fuck her afterwards. It’s nothing to him. He’ll play his part. He’ll be urgent and passionate- I’ve been aching for you, my queen, my everything, woman of my dreams- only you, only ever you- he’ll make her scream his name and kiss her afterwards.

All the while, he’ll be somewhere else. He’ll be talking to Amren, quietly. He’ll be drinking with Cass and Azriel, playing cards. He’ll be dancing with Mor. He’ll be walking through the streets of Velaris.

That’s the only thing he has. And even those memories are further and further away from him with each passing day. Rhysand is afraid that he’ll wake up some morning and find that there’s no fight left inside him- that he’ll just give up.

He looks around.

He’s in a forest, close to the wall. It’s spring, but snow still covers the trees and the ground. He will encounter no humans here- none of them would be so foolish, so daring to get this close to the wall. He sits down next to a stream, closes his eyes and just doesn’t think. A few, scattered moments of peace- he takes what he gets.

Just a few moments. Then he’ll hunt those poor bastards down.

Feyre is twelve, and she’s been roaming this forest for a year now. She’s been following the village’s hunters; copy the way they set their snarls, carry their bows. She has a dream: she’ll hunt so much food her father will get better again. Nesta and Elain will get fatter, rounder, and they will both find very handsome men to marry. Then it’ll be Feyre and her father, and she’ll hunt for him while he reads at home, and in the evening, she’ll cook for him and paint a little.

So far, she hasn’t ever shot anything bigger than a rabbit, and that one time was on accident. The snarls are what works better.

Nesta turned fifteen yesterday. Feyre knows her sister has hoped their father would say something, but he has forgotten all of their birthdays. Nesta has looked like murder all day long. Elain tried to talk to her, but she locked herself in their room.

Elain and Nesta are very sad, Feyre knows that. They remember more of their mother and they talk about her sometimes, exchanging bits and pieces of who she used to be. In the beginning, right after they moved into the little hut at the village’s edge, they tried to be there for her- but they have too much to worry about, now. They never even play with each other. They don’t thank her when she brings food home.

Feyre makes her way through the trees. She must always stay away from the wall- dangerous creatures are there, fae. She’s so afraid of them she has nightmares sometimes.

But today, some inner voice tells her that the wall is not dangerous. That no fae will hurt her. And almost by themselves, their feet make her walk closer and closer to the buzzing, invisible thing that separates their human world from the fae.

When she comes onto a clearing, she sees a man. He is sitting on a fallen tree branch next to a river and his head his lowered, almost as if he were praying. He doesn’t carry weapons, but his clothes are fine and elegant- he must be a rich merchant, lost in the woods.

Perhaps she’ll get a reward if she leads him out of here. Curiosity gets the better of her. “Are you okay?”, she calls over to him, and that is the exact same moment he looks up and meets her eyes.

It knocks the breath out of her. He’s a fae. His ears are long and pointed, and there is something otherworldly in his features that marks him as different.

This is it. She is going to die. Nesta and Elain and her father will starve because she’s not there anymore. How could she be so careless, hunting so close to the wall?

The man takes in her unwashed hair, her threadbare clothes, her make-shift bow. “You should not be here”, he rasps. “You should run.”

Feyre tries to be a still as she can be. The man doesn’t get up, doesn’t come closer. As if he knows that she’ll start screaming if he does.

“Go”, he commands, angry. “Don’t ever come here again. Understand me? Don’t go into the forest at all. Stay at home.”

And she should do just that, run until she’s far away from him, but…

“I have to”, Feyre says. “I have to hunt.”

“No, you don’t. A small girl like you should stay with her family.”

“You don’t understand.” She steps closer, her bow still ready in her hand. “My family will starve if I don’t. I am doing all of this for them.”

The man breathes in, sharply, and she swears that she sees devastation in his eyes. “What?”

“My father can’t take care of us.” Why the words are spilling from her mouth like that, Feyre doesn’t know. “And my sisters are scared. I have to be strong, even when I’m afraid- for them.”

The man stares at her.

“Are you going to hurt me?”, Feyre asks. She tries to hide that she is scared of that fae. She tries to pretend that she could shoot him, if she wanted.

He shakes his head, slowly. “Of course not.”

“What are you doing here, then? Shouldn’t fae be on the other side of the wall?”

The man smiles a bitter smile. “Usually, we should. But I…was allowed a little freedom today.”

“Are you a hunter, too?”

He closes his eyes. “I suppose.”

“Then you’re a little bit like me.”

“Well.” He laughs. “Not really. But I am doing this for my family, too. All of this.”

Feyre doesn’t know why, but for some strange reason, it makes her very happy that the man has a family. That he’s not alone.

“That’s good”, she smiles. “You should go be with them, not sit in the forest by yourself.”

He nods. “You’re right, of course. As should you.”

Feyre steps as close to him as she dares. The fae is very pretty, she realizes. All the older village girls would probably be in love with him. But he looks sad, she thinks, and she doesn’t know why, but it makes her heart ache a little. She wants him smiling.

“Here.” The fae nods his head and suddenly, a basket filled with bread and meat appears in the snow. “Take that home to your family. It should give you enough food to eat for the next few weeks. I can’t- I wish I could do more. But my hands are quite literally tied.”

“Is this some sort of trick?”, Feyre asks. “Some bargain? Some fairy magic?”

The fae shakes his head, a flicker of amusement on his face. “No bargain, little girl. Although I’m impressed you’re already so wary for your age.”

Feyre picks up the basket. This is better than the time she shot the rabbit. This is all of her birthdays combined. “Thank you- what’s your name?”

“Rhys”, he says, looking at his hands. “That’s what my friends call me.”

“That family you told me about?”

“Yes”, Rhys says softly. “My family.”

Feyre smiles at him. It comes so easy, the smile- because something deep inside her core tells her that she doesn’t need to be afraid of him. And she trusts that. “Thank you, Rhys. Your family is lucky to have you. You just saved mine today.”

He still looks so very sad. “Then that’s something”, he says hoarsely. “Before you go- one thing.”

And suddenly there are talons in her head, and she can’t move anymore.

“It’ll be over in a few moments”, Rhys says. “But I can’t let you remember me. She’ll find out, somehow. She’ll break you just for fun.”

Some white blanket is thrown over her mind, and the next second, Feyre finds herself alone in the woods.

What just happened? Why is she here?

Oh, yes- she remembers- the rich merchant who she met on her way here showed mercy and handed her the basket-

What on earth is she doing so close to the wall?

Feyre turns around and runs. Today is such a good day. She feels happy, not just because of the gift…but because of something else.

And maybe she can get through all of this.

Maybe she’ll find a way out of this someday.  

Rhys has never done something like this, but he forces himself to forget her. He pushes her image into the very, very back of his mind, he uses his magic on himself and forces himself to forget about that girl in the snow, that tiny, little huntress.

Because for some reason, he knows that she is important. For what, he doesn’t know. But he’ll do what it takes to keep her hidden from Amarantha.  

It makes him cry out in pain to use those talons on himself, but-

Rhys finds himself standing somewhere in the forest.

Why is he still here? He should go- hunt those Dawn fae down.

There’s a weird feeling of goodness in the back of his mind. Of happiness. And he remembers- that those he loves are out there. That somehow, someday, he’ll see them again. That there is a reason for everything.

He feels hope, and he doesn’t know why.

I have to be strong, even when I’m afraid- for them, whispers a voice inside his head. He knows who said it-

A girl-

He can’t remember. But that feeling lingers.

That night, when Amarantha is on top of him, moving and moaning about how good this feels after a kill, all he can think is the clock is ticking, you bitch. You’ll go down soon. Someone will come and end you.

When she leaves him, he showers and washes her scent off him. Someone is out there, he thinks. Someone good. This world is not completely lost. And for some reason, he cares again. Cares about what happens. Cares about who wins. Suddenly, he wants to fight.

That night, he has the strangest dream. It’s a hand, unpacking a basket full of bread, apples and meat. A small hand; a child’s hands. But it makes him so inexplicably happy he thinks about that dream for days.

A few years later, when Rhysand has long forgotten about everything, he dreams of that same hand again.

Only this time that delicate, female hand is drawing flowers on a table.

And something inside Rhysand whispers, soon.

Soon.

Soon.

2

(Requested by Anon)

It hadn’t been any particular day. You were lounging at Emily’s house, waiting for your boys to get back. The guys were starting to call you the second ‘pack mom’ because you were always helping Emily when it came to taking care of them.

“Seth and Embry should be the first two back from the patrol, so Jacob should be leaving his place with Quil soon to take over for them. Those boys all work a tight shift with those Vampires in Seattle.” Emily spoke, wiping down the benches in the kitchen.

“I know. Paul comes home dead on his feet sometimes, it makes me wonder how he even makes it home alive driving.” You played with the sponge you were holding, wondering what your fiancé was doing now.

Emily nodded, a small frown on her scarred face. “I know what you mean, sometimes Sam comes home like that. Patrols take so much out of them.” She sighed.

“But they still keep going, trying to protect everyone. And I …” She looked lost for words. A helpless expression on her face. “I wish I could do more for them. Cooking and making sure there are spare clothes here for them all, having a place to crash when they get back … it’s just not enough. I want to help more.”

You understood the feeling well. The helplessness in all of it. And knowing your fiancé was out there, fighting off the Cold Ones as you wait for him on protected ground, made you sick. You hated waiting, and you definitely didn’t like not knowing if Paul was safe. 

All you could do was sit there, hoping Paul came home that night unharmed by those monsters that got too brave and ventured further towards Forks.

It made you resent that Swan girl… just a little.

Just then, a crash of weight on the front veranda sounded, along with the familiar voices calling out.

“Just us!” Called Embry, “No need to fear, the hero is here!”

You and Emily shared a playful expression at the voice.

“Yeah.” quipped Seth, “Embry is here too, don’t worry.”

Embry chortled. It took a few moments for them to come inside, no doubt changing into their clothes they left on the veranda.

“I feel like ‘no need to fear, the wolves are here’ is a better catch phrase -” Seth started as he made his way to the table between the kitchen and the couch.

You sat up from your sprawled position on the couch, yawning. It wasn’t late, but you were matching your sleep schedule to Paul’s so you were awake when he came home. You missed him and didn’t want abnormal sleep schedules to keep you apart.

You looked at the time and groaned. Paul wouldn’t be finished for another four hours. At least now with Seth and Embry there would be some more entertainment. It was never quiet when you were among wolves.

You looked over at the two, who were suspiciously quiet.

“What?” You said, looking at their astonished faces. “What is it?” They both had goofy looking smiles on their faces.

“When were you guys going to tell us?” Embry asked, eyes gleaming. In his mind, he was already calling shotgun on godfather.

You stared at the two of them.

Seth grinned. “You can’t keep something like that from us, you think we wouldn’t hear?”

“Uh… what?”

They didn’t answer straight away, quickly looking at each other. “Nothing. Never mind. Obviously, you and Paul want to keep this quiet …” Embry trailed off, his tone dipping lower.

You rolled your eyes.“You boys make no sense to me sometimes.” You flopped back down into your position from earlier, feeling more comfortable that way for some odd reason.

They didn’t respond, but they sat down at the table, backs hunched over as they had a private conversation between themselves.

Are they talking to the pack? You wondered. No, they needed to be in wolf form for that. They were just talking too quietly for you and Emily to hear.

Time slowly began to pass, the clock inching closer to midnight. Paul promised he wouldn’t be late.

When he finally arrived, you jumped up from your spot where you had been dozing in and out of consciousness to throw yourself into his arms. Normally dozing off wouldn’t happen while you waited for Paul to return, but lately you were just so tired.

Seth and Embry always seemed to try and hoard your attention, viewing you as the older sister they never had. (Or in Seth’s case, had but wished she was as cool as you.)

Boisterous conversations, bad puns and jokes exchanged, mild physical fighting (they always let you win because Paul would beat them up if they actually hurt you. You  purposely avoided this truth to protect your pride).

But strangely, the two were letting you rest. Hell, Seth even laid a blanket over you when you dozed off. And neither had raised their voices once since you spoke. Even Emily noticed their strange behavior, staring quizzically at them as they sat protectively close to you on the floor.

Paul’s arms closed around you immediately. You could feel his exhaustion. You would let him eat the meal Emily had prepared for the Pack and drive him home where he could catch up on much needed rest.

Paul looked over your head, which was nuzzled into his chest, breathing in his sent. His eyes caught sight of the two who were practically vibrating with excitement.

When Paul said nothing at first, Embry spoke.

Or rather, blurted it out.

“When were you guys going to tell us you’re having a baby?”

For a small moment, no air seemed exist in the room. You could feel Paul tense around you.

You slowly twisted in Paul’s arms, facing the two. “Huh?”

Seth grinned, still not realizing that you were clueless. “Seriously, we can hear the heartbeat, you think we wouldn’t know?”

You froze, looking unsure and expectantly at Paul for an answer.

Listening closely, Paul heard the faint sound of a beating pulse, too faint to have been noticed before.

“You’re pregnant.” The words dropped in a dazed whisper. “They’re right… I can’t believe I didn’t realize earlier.”

Seth and Embry shot up from the floor.

“YOU DIDN’T KNOW?” They boomed in sync, making you groan as the sound echoed in your ears.

Hopefully the baby didn’t take after the wolves.

3

The Need (Joker x Reader)

“Imagine the Joker falling for you when you’re taken hostage during a bank heist.”

Requested by Anon: “Can you write something where the joker meets a girl while him and Harley are out causing mayhem and the joker can’t get the girl out of his head? And he eventually leaves Harley for her?”

A/N: I almost made this a two part fic because I didn’t want it do be too long. But I like how it came out. I hope you guys like it too!~

Warnings: Violence, swearing, falling for people who probably aren’t good for you.


Why did banks always have such long lines? You’d think that they would be a bit more efficient.

“Don’t you just hate long lines?”

“Sorry, what?” You blinked a few times before you realized that the man in front of you was speaking to you. He repeated himself and smiled at you, to which you smiled in return. “Yeah, the lines are usually what keep me from making frequent trips here.”

He laughed and nodded in agreement. “Same here. The reason I’m even here today is for my son.”

“Oh really?” You looked around, “where is he?”

“At the hospital, he just had surgery so I’m withdrawing some money to go buy him something to keep him occupied while he’s recovering.”

Your smile grew a bit, “that’s kind of you. How old is he?”

“He’ll be 6 next month.”

Before you could respond, the blast of an explosion threw everyone in the line onto the floor. The room was engulfed in smoke and debris from the explosion. As the dust started to settle, you could see the two figures responsible.

“Listen up, everybody!” The female voice called out. “You’re all going to do as we say and if you don’t, well…we’ll have to kill ya.” The woman walked towards you and the others who had been line. “Ya got that?”

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Every Waking Hour

@voltronwhumpweek2017 - Day 5: Insomnia/Mental illness.

I see your insomnia and raise you some induced insomnia. A Lance fic for my IRL awesome friend


Hunk felt his heart break a little as he found an utterly lost Lance wandering down the hallway that lead to the kitchen.

“Lance?” he asked.

Lance turned to face him and Hunk felt his heart break even more as he got a good look at his best friend’s face. The circles under his eyes had darkened so much so that they resembled bruises, and they stood out starkly against Lance’s skin, which was much paler than usual. If Hunk was honest, Lance looked more like a walking corpse than anything else. Not that he was going to mention that to Lance. Definitely not.

Lance blinked blearily at Hunk for a long moment before recognition flashed across his mostly blank features, “Hunk?”

“Yeah, man, it’s me.” Hunk replied, reaching out to steady Lance when he wobbled.

“Hunk, I… Wh-where are we? I don’t - shouldn’t we be in class? Or… something? I don’t know.”

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anonymous asked:

I want all the angst in the world. So harry and reader have been dating for 2/3 years now and he's absolutely in love with her and she loves him and he writes an entire album about her and she realizes while he's on tour and that maybe he deserves better than her bc she's afraid of commitment bc her parents didnt have the best marriage and she's just pessimistic so she decides to break up with harry after tour's done and he's heartbroken and shes a mess (to be continued)

And he starts working in his next album and its all sad and heartbroken and he starts tour for that album and she shows up to one of the shows and comes clean about how shes scared and all that and says she misses him and still loves him and he says the same and just all the angst and all the fluffly make up. Idk feel free to play around with it lol

hello, here’s some songs i listened to while writing this: what i know - parachute, alright - keaton henson, crowded places - banks, youth - haux

You can’t seem to tear your eyes away from the window, the rain pattering against the glass is the only sound that’s grounding you. The sight of dripping of water sliding down the glass is hypnotizing. You can’t think of anything else because you know the second you let your mind wander, you’ll start crying again and your body has had enough of that.

The same questions continue to echo in your head whenever you let yourself think.

Where is he? Is he thinking of me? Does his chest feel tight when he breathes, too?

And the most damning question, the one that has you hyperventilating whenever you make yourself really think about it.

Does he hate me?

He has to, he has every right to, after what you did.

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BTS Reaction to their s/o writing a song

[requests are open]

A/N: I lowkey cried while writing this :’( but anyway it’s not that great lol

-Kim Seokjin-

Jin would walk into your shared room when he tripped on a box filled with journals that was left by the door. Bending down, he picked one up and began flipping through the pages, instantly recognizing your handwriting. Not wanting to invade your privacy, Jin was about to place the notebook back where it was when a certain page caught his eye. Looking at it he realized that it was lyrics to a song that you had written yourself. His heart broke as he read the lyrics over and over again, each word burning into his brain.

Sitting on the bed, he tossed the book to the side and held his head in his hands. You had written about your relationship with Jin. How the time you spent together never seemed to be enough. How you seemed to feel so lonely, even with his presence. The part that seemed to haunt him the most was where you had said it was better for things to end now before someone got hurt.

Hearing the door open, he looked up at you with tear stained cheeks. Noticing the journal that lay open beside him, you looked back at him with saddened eyes. “Jin.” you’d say, reaching out to him. Pulling away slowly, he kept his eyes locked with yours. 

“Is this how you felt (y/n)? Why didn’t you tell me? We- I- could have found a way to fix this.” he’d say, more tears spilling from his eyes as he looked at you.

Originally posted by lavender-kills

-Kim Namjoon-

Namjoon would have found the song you had written while he was scrolling on your computer. Reading the lyrics you wrote had saddened him not only because knew it was true, but because he realized how much you were hurting each other. The last couple months had been stressful and filled with the constant fights you two had nearly every night. You had written about it in the song and he felt all your emotions in every word. He chose not to say anything about it, but began to distance himself away from you, not wanting to fight and cause either of you anymore pain. 

Namjoon wouldn’t meet your eyes and always left the room when you were at the dorm. You obviously noticed the way he was acting, so you decided to confront him about it. Following him to his room, you were about to speak when he said, “I’ve seen it. The song you wrote.” Knowing exactly what he was talking about, your heart dropped. “Joonie.” you whispered softy.

He had turned to you, dropping to his knees and wrapping his arms around your torso, tears falling fast. “Please tell me (y/n). Tell me how I can fix this. Tell me how to fix us.” he sobbed, his forehead resting against your stomach.

Originally posted by joonjuly

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Better than This.

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader

Summary: You and Tom have recently become engaged and moved in together. You go out to buy some groceries.

Warnings: Swears. Come on, it’s me. Maybe a lil innuendo if you squint. Uhm, and fluff. Hella fluff man.

Word Count: 1055

A/N: This is the single most self-indulgent bullshit piece I have EVER written in my WHOLE life, and I’ve been writing shit for like seven years. Anyways, I hope you enjoy reading this as much as my romantically frustrated ass enjoyed writing it.

You woke up to sunlight drifting lazily through your brand new off-white curtains. A smile tugging at the corners of your mouth, you snuggled in closer to your long-time boyfriend, now fiancé, who sounded like he was still asleep. You turned a little so you could look up at him. With his mouth half open, breathing heavily, he would probably be asleep for a while. Your smile turned into a mischievous grin.

You leaned far enough upwards that you could reach his face. Then, you began peppering his forehead, cheeks, and shoulders with kisses. He started to stir a little, so you paused. Eyes barely open, he looked down at you, a soft smile breaking across his face, more beautiful than the sunrise happening outside, you were sure. You returned the smile before leaning up again to give him a long kiss on the lips.

“Good morning, sleepyhead.”

He sighed. “Good morning, darling.”

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Picture Perfect - Dean Winchester x Reader x Sam Winchester - Chapter 4

Title: Picture Perfect

Pairing: Sam Winchester x Reader, Dean Winchester x Reader

Word Count: 4,592

Warnings: Angst

Prompt: I got it! Can you do a fic where Sam dies while (Y/N) is pregnant with his child and so Dean helps her raise the child and they live the apple pie life and right when Dean wants to propose to (Y/N), Sam returns to life & ANGST. Please and thank you

Read: Part 1 l Part 2 l Part 3

Originally posted by whoeveryoulovethemost

Originally posted by hallowedbecastiel

“Mommy?”

“Yes sweetie?” you asked, swallowing the lump in your throat as you got up and walked towards her. For a moment you held your breath as you knelt in front of her.

She opened her mouth to say something but obviously decided against it and instead asked-

“Who is that?” and there it was, there was the question you found just as hard to answer. Obviously the only thing Dean did was keep her occupied upstairs as you imagined.

“He- uhm” you cleared your throat, glancing at Dean for a second and then at Sam “He’s… family, sweetheart. He is family. Really close one actually-” you said and a big smile spread on her face. One thing Dean had taught her amongsteverything else was: Family is always important. And he had made sure she understood that family wasn’t only blood relation.

“Family?” she asked with a small tilt of her head and you looked at Dean behind her who seemed to be holding his breath.

“Yeah baby.” he breathed out, his voice more hoarse than you’d heard it before. No wonder he was struggling with keeping his emotions under control in such a situation.

“He’s actually… real close family.” of course he couldn’t say it because having her call Sam her uncle would be worse than hearing her call Dean her father.

Before you could realize it and before you could stop her yourself she was running from your hands to Sam who seemed to be getting stiff as she aproached him. For a moment both you and Dean were quiet surprised with how open she suddenly was but then again even if she didn’t know it… Sam was her father.

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I met this cat at the Cat Cafe San Diego. His name is Arlow and he’s up for adoption. He had the softest, most beautiful blue grey fur and within minutes of me introducing myself, he was purring away like a steam engine and licking my hand. He likes sleeping, soft fusses and bursts of running around having fun. I wish I could take him home!

Thank God For Sobriety

Two months.


It had been two months since Jughead Jones had broken up with Betty Cooper, two months since FP had been released on parole and two months since Jughead had begun to feel the ever present crushing weight of the disappointment piling on his shoulders thicker than any leather jacket he had ever worn.


Fp was ashamed, he felt guilty and hurt that his son was following in his footsteps, he wanted nothing more than to see his oldest succeed, make something of himself. But No, everyday he came home from his Job at Hal Coopers mechanic shop to find his son asleep on the couch, Serpents jacket draped over his shoulders and the bags beneath his eyes darkening.


The older man had been sober for three months, Jugheads father never even so much as glanced at a bottle however, tonight was different. Tonight he would be surrounded by alcohol, surrounded by his former gang members, it was the ultimate test, would he slip? Would he allow the liquid poison to destroy the new life he was trying to build for his family or would he stay strong, would he follow through?


One quick glance at his beanie wearing son slumped against the pool table looking absolutely miserable , a girl with purple streaks in her hair was leaning up against Jughead as he stood stoic.


No, Fp couldn’t slip. Not tonight.


Then he saw her, pastel pinks and blues, a vision of soft cotton and shiny blonde hair. Her eyes were panicked as she searched the smoky bar for something, someone. She caught his eye finally, Fp stood from his bar stool waving a hand towards her as she quickly glided through the rowdy men and scantily dressed young girls.


“Fp, are you okay?! My dad sent me, he said you had an emergency with your bike, he made it sound like there was an accident, I drove here as fast as I could but… but I just kept thinking… what if I’m too late? What if it wasn’t you, what if it was J…” The Beautiful Blonde trailed off, shaking her head and wrapping her arms tight around the older mans waist. “I was so worried” she whispered.


Well good atleast Hal had done his job, you could say a lot of things about the Cooper father but he loved his daughter and he would do anything to make her happy, including involve himself in this silly little plan.


Fp caught his sons startled and nervous eyes from across the room, Jughead pushed away from the purple haired girl, eyes trained on the tiny blonde in his fathers arms.

“Oh no little Coop, you know your dad, so dramatic, my bike broke down outside the bar, I can’t get home without it running and I just can’t figure it out. Of course he’d send you, you are the best mechanic on his team.” He grinned as his future daughter in law blushed prettily.


Betty placed a tiny scarred palm on Fps forearm, her eyes filled with concern and maternal kindness.

“What are you doing here Fp? you shouldn’t be here. If you felt like you needed to talk you know you can always call my dad, or come over! Remember last time? You and dad watched baseball and I made blueberry pie? You said it was better than any scotch you’ve ever had! I can make that again, I just need to run to the store although I’m not sure they’re open this late but I do have cherries at home! I can make a great Che..”


With a laugh a gentle pat to her head the grown man shook his head

“I just needed to check on someone, no drinking for me, and I’ll take you up on they cherry pie offer some other time but right now? Id Be eternally grateful if you could fix my bike for me? I’ll meet you out there in a minute.”


She nodded quickly, hustling through the crowds with practiced ease.


The moment she disappeared from view another familiar face was standing before him, eyes frantic as he ran a hand wildly through his now beanieless black waves.


“What’s wrong? Why is she here? Is it Polly? The babies?! Is it her mom? Is she okay? It’s late she has school in the morning! What did she say to you? Where did she go?!” Jughead panted, his hands reaching out desperately for his fathers collar.


Fp smiled lazily

“She’s just fixing my bike, I’ll be out there in a few minutes, gotta talk to rusty here about putting a few nonalcoholic beverages on the menu.” He teased laughing at the bartenders goofy grin.


“You let her go outside alone?! Here?! What’s wrong with you, you can’t just.. god.. I can’t even believe you!” The young Serpent growled before ripping off in the direction of the door.


Fp leaned back in his stool propping his arms behind his head.


“Take it away son.” He grinned.


Jughead found her leaning over Fps old Harley, hair pulled back in a messy bun and soft blue skirt flowing gently in the wind, her hands were buried deep in the engine and her nose was scrunched in confusion.


“Find the problem kenickie?”


Betty jumped at the familiar rumble of her ex boyfriends voice, her hands trembling as she held the wrench right, looking away quickly she sighed.


“No. I don’t see anything wrong. Other than a few rusty spark plugs it’s in perfect condition, he can bring it to the shop tomorrow, now that you’re here you can take him home. I better go it’s late.” Turning on her heel something in Jughead snapped, he couldn’t just let her walk away again, he wouldn’t be able to bare it if she got in that car and drove away for the second time.


“Betts… Juliet…please” he called after her.


She stiffened.

“I’m going home Jughead.” She whispered


Taking a deep breath he started


“I wish I could go home, I haven’t been able to go home for two months. Nothing feels like home anymore. My trailer.. there’s no tiny pink sweaters folded on top of the couch, there’s no lemonade in the fridge, it doesn’t smell like vanilla and honey, my bed.. it’s empty every night. After school.. I still wait for you to come and take your cheerleading sneakers off and drop your feet in my lap. I don’t have a home anymore because you are my home Betty Cooper and…. and damn I want to come home.” He whispered.


She turned abruptly, raindrop tears falling fast from her meadow green eyes as she stood a few feet from him. Stretching her arms open she smiled shaking


“Come home Juggie.”


And seven years later when Jughead dropped down on one knee in the tiny White House they shared on the Southside and asked Betty Cooper to be his wife, Fp Jones was there, sitting sandwiched between Alice cooper and Hal Cooper.


And maybe when he whispered

“Thank god for sobriety”


No one questioned it one bit.

heythereitsmo  asked:

Mark Tuan + #29 (don't you kill me Shan)

Author: kpopfanfictrash

Pairing: You / Mark Tuan

Prompt: “How is my wife more badass than me?”

Rating: PG

Word Count: 564

Originally posted by ceohan


Control (Epilogue)

“I just worry about him, you know?”

Mark speaks against your head, lips moving into your hair. He refuses to unwrap his arms from around your waist where you sit, cradled between his thighs. As you nod, you flip a page in your book. “True. But Mark, Jackson is a big boy. He’ll be fine on his own.”

Mark sighs. “I know. It’s just … he left all his crap here.”

Snorting, you finally look up. The apartment is a mess – has been for weeks now. Jackson left practically all of his things behind when he moved out. The vase with no flowers rests on your kitchen table, two of his rugs still lean against the wall. Jackson did it on purpose, winking and throwing his arms out as he declared well wishes for your new home.

“Well.” You stare at the stuff, dubious. “I suppose we could always throw it out.”

“And risk offending Jackson Wang?” Mark is scandalized. “I’ve seen him kick box, Y/N. We don’t stand a chance.”

“Hey.” Twisting in his arms, you mock-frown. “I could take him.”

“That’s true. You are pretty terrifying.” Mark struggles to hide his grin, shaking a fist at the ceiling. “How, God? How is my wife more badass than me?

Giggling, you swat him. “I think your job trumps mine any day. All you have to do is say, ‘Hi. I’m Mark Tuan. I fight fires and rescue damsels in distress.’ Bam. Badass.”

“Aha!” Mark grins. “At last, the truth. So you admit you were in distress?”

Wrinkling your nose, you sit back on your heels. Mark makes a small noise of protest at the removal of your warmth. “Distress? Me? Never.”

Mark pouts. “Maybe you weren’t distressed, but I am. Right now. Come back before I make you.”

Instead of answering, you back further away.

Mark watches, eyes glinting and he pushes forward. “I’m warning you, Y/N.”

Wriggling your eyebrows at him, you move further away. And further until – “Oh, shit!” You fall off the couch.

Mark’s concerned face appears over the edge, wide eyed. “You okay?” At the sight of you, hair askew and cheeks flushed, he bursts out laughing.

“It’s not funny.”

Mark’s eyes close and he rolls back on the sofa, continuing to laugh. 

Grabbing your book from the floor, you rise up on your knees to thwack him on the leg.

“Ow!” he yelps, still laughing as he grabs the book from your hands. “This is much too dangerous for you to have, Y/N. Paper cuts are a real and serious problem that kill one American a year.”

“You made that up.”

“Eight one percent of statistics are made up on the spot.”

“You made that up.”

Mark cracks a smile. “Come back here.”

Grumbling, you climb from the floor to settle on top of him. “Happy?”

“Mm.” Mark’s smile fades looking up at you. Softly, he pushes himself up from the cushions until you’re face to face. His left hand comes up quietly to brush a strand of hair behind one ear. “Have I told you how happy I am?”

Lacing your hands around his waist, you nod. “Once or twice.” Mark kisses the tip of your nose and you smile. “Have I told you how happy I am?”

“Once or twice.”

“Mm. Well, I’m very happy.” Your gaze moves to the ring on Mark’s left hand. “Mr. Tuan.”

“Mrs. Tuan.”

[2,000 Followers Drabble Game]

PARTS: 1 // 2 // 3 // 4 // 5 // 6 // 7 // 8 // epilogue
Pairing: Jimin x reader
Words: 7,760
Genre: smut, angst, supernatural au.
click here for warnings by part (potential spoilers).

When playing the lying game, there are but two rules. The first is to be convincing. Live the lie, breathe the lie, believe it so wholeheartedly it becomes your new truth. The second is to always remember there are other players in the game, some of whom have been playing it far longer than you.

Time always seemed to go slowly for you. It has always consisted of a lot of waiting, searching, and more waiting. Waiting for leads, waiting for information, waiting for days to turn into weeks, into months, into years. Every day began to seem the same, and the most exciting moments have been those when you’re risking your life. Kind of fucked up, but true.

Recently, though, this has changed. Jimin has changed everything. Somehow, time has passed in a blur of meet ups, of laughter, of actually leaving the safety of the church and experiencing the things the world has to offer. Jimin makes you see the beauty in the mundane and take a look at things you’ve experienced hundreds of times through a different set of eyes. Suddenly, just walking in silence takes on a whole new meaning with him beside you, or even popping by a fast food joint becomes a billion times more interesting as you watch him dunk his french fries into a milkshake (a strange combination that he has tried to make you enjoy, but failed).

Time both seems to go too slow when you’re apart and too fast when you’re together. One instance, you were both talking until the early hours of the morning at his place, only realizing the time at 4AM. You stayed the night, sleeping in his guest room, just a few steps away from his bedroom. You didn’t get any sleep, of course, despite how incredibly comfortable the bed was. He offered to drive you “home” (a fake address to an apartment just across town from him), but you insisted on walking. Your mind buzzed the entire way home, trying to understand what this new friendship meant and how it would affect your mission to avenge your parents. You’ve been distracted, but you’re enjoying it. Possibly more than you should. You’ve been making stupid, half thought through decisions, and there’s no room for those kinds of mistakes in a life like yours.

Mistake number one manifested as a mobile phone. A cheap one from the grocery store, but a phone nonetheless. You’ve never had one and you wouldn’t have the first clue how to use it, but you bought it on a whim. The realization of what you’d done hit you when you were driving back to the church and were struck with distraught feelings you’ve never felt before. How could you be so reckless? Just for a boy? The two of you have gotten along just fine without calling or texting, there’s no need to change anything now. Jimin understood your ‘explanation’ for not owning a phone. You’d justified it with a “It just makes me feel too connected. People used to get by just fine without them. There are so many beautiful things to experience in the world, I don’t want to miss any of it because of some dumb little screen.” Sure, the excuse sounds a bit lame, but there must be people out there who think that way and genuinely do wish to escape the crazy technological world.

Nothing bad happened as a result of your rash decision, but you did drive all the way back to town and leave the phone, along with twenty dollars, beside a sleeping figure in the park.

Hoseok returns from his trip after four weeks, bearing new supplies, weapons, but no information. You want to tell him about Jimin right away, but you’re not sure what his reaction will be. And a part of you wants to keep this as something that’s just yours, just for a little longer. You’re okay with sharing everything with Hoseok, but you know that the moment you do, this thing with Jimin becomes reality. It’ll become something you have to discuss and understand in terms of The Bigger Picture, and you’re not quite ready for that yet.

You’re sure that Hoseok suspects something. Of course he does. There’s no other reason for you to be away so long and then not share what happened or what you did. Hoseok isn’t stupid. But you appreciate that he’s giving you time to come to terms with everything before telling him. You do know, however, that you can’t wait forever. Eventually Hoseok will confront you about what’s going on, and you’ll have to tell him, but for now any confessions are on your terms. You promise yourself that you’ll tell him within the next month. You just need a little longer to pretend that Jimin and your world are completely disconnected, to just enjoy being with him without worrying about the what ifs. Whenever your thoughts stray towards those what ifs, you can’t stop thinking about them. There is no way you can continue to see Jimin and lead your own secret life. You either have to find a way to reconcile the two, or decide which to give up.

Jimin asks about your family one day while the two of you are playing Monopoly (a game you’ve learned to kick his ass in, and he’s complained that he “never should have taught you how to play this dumb game”) and you tell him the truth. Or at least as much of the truth as you can.

“My mom and dad were absolutely amazing. I always felt so loved and special because of them, as any kid should. They were the best parents in the world.” You shake the dice in your hands and let them clatter on the board, knocking over one of your houses in the process. “Then again, everyone thinks their parents are the best. But, god, were they in love. Something in the air just changed whenever they looked at eachother. I always hoped that I would someday be able to experience love like that.”

“Are they…?”

"Dead? Yeah. They passed away when I was small,” you say as you move your piece up five steps, right onto one of his squares with a hotel on it. “Damn it.” Handing him an obscene amount of money notes, you continue. “I was taken in by someone who had known the family for years and I couldn’t be more grateful to him for everything he’s done for me.” Technically Hoseok had known about your family, just not in a positive way. But Jimin doesn’t need to know that.

“There still are some good people left in the world… I’m so sorry about your parents, Sooyoung.”

You shake your head and avoid his eyes, feeling ashamed for the way you still have to conceal the truth from him. Every time he calls you Sooyoung you try to ignore the guilt that gnaws at your heart for continuing to lie to him. “It’s okay, I had to accept the way things were a long time ago. You learn to live and let go.” Another lie. You try to shift the subject away from you and your lying ass. “What about you? What’s your family like?”

This time he glances down, throwing the dice, a bit harder than he usually does so one rolls underneath your leg. You lift it to reveal a three then move it to the centre of the board.

“Complicated is the best way to put it, I guess. Dad's… Dad. Sorry, that doesn’t make sense. When I used to live with him he’d be so busy that he’d rarely be home, and when he was he never really seemed to be there. But it’s fine. Like you, I accepted the way things were a long time ago and moved the hell out as soon as I could. I think I turned out just fine, despite everything.”

“Yeah, you’re not too bad,” you say, which earns you a smile. “How are things with your mom?”

You wish you could take the question back the moment you see his face fall. He tries to cover it, acting like the question doesn’t hit him somewhere in his heart where it aches like a splinter lodged too deep to pull out, but you notice anyway. You learned to read people’s expressions, no matter how subtle, a long time ago. 

“She’s not around anymore. I see her every now and then, but she doesn’t live with us.”

“I’m sorry, Jimin.”

He forces a smile, which only breaks your heart even more. “Life happens, right?” He holds up a card in his hand, indicating the discussion is over. “'Make general repairs on all your property. For each house pay $25, for each hotel pay $100.’ Fuck this game.”

When you finally go home, you decide it’s time to tell Hoseok. For the first time in a while you’re actually nervous to divulge something to him. He can tell. The moment you step foot into the bunker, he takes a look at you and sits down on the couch, eyeing you carefully. He doesn’t speak, waiting for you to go first. You don’t sit down, instead you pace around the room, chewing your lip. He was clearly working on something since there are books strewn across the room, papers piled on the table.

You’re afraid to voice your thoughts because once you start, you might not stop. All the way home, you kept thinking about what it might be like to live a life where playing Monopoly with Jimin could be some weekly ritual, where you could take him to meet Hoseok without having to lie about where you live and just about every other aspect of your life. You kept thinking about what it might feel like to be normal and to not have any what ifs. To be able to see Jimin and not worry about maybe having to say goodbye to him forever out of fear that he might get killed or you might neglect him because of your mission. You wondered what it would be like to live a life where you could truly open your heart to someone without constantly waiting for it to be shattered. 

Finally, you just blurt it out.

“I met someone.”

Hoseok nods, but again doesn’t speak.

“We met in the woods, while you were away. He was lost, and I know that the right thing to do would have been to bail, but I just couldn’t.” You struggle to find the words to explain to him why you didn’t turn around and follow your instincts. You’ve been trained for this. There have been one too many times when you’ve had to turn around and leave someone behind, regardless of how much you wanted to stay and help. You’ve overridden that urge that makes people human. There was even an instance when you had to leave Hoseok behind. It ripped you apart, abandoning him when he was hurt. But he made you leave, and thankfully survived. If you could somehow leave Hoseok behind, you should be able to leave anyone else. And yet, with Jimin you couldn’t. If you could have re-done that whole situation again, you’re sure that you would still do the same thing. You would stay.

“I’m tired, Hobi,” you finally admit. “I’m tired of hiding away and not experiencing the things people my age have probably experienced a billion times already. I love you and I love spending time with you, but, I just wanted to know what it might feel like to have someone in my life who isn’t family and who I don’t live with.”

Hoseok is smiling, which confuses the hell out of you. This is not how you expected him to react. “What? What did I say?”

He shakes his head and pats the space beside him, prompting you to sit down. This time you do. “You look like you’re waiting for me to get angry,” he says. “I’m not, not even a little bit. You were bound to want more than the life you have at some point. I’m happy you met someone.”

 You struggle for words in your stupour. This is not the way you imagined things going. “You’re happy? Aren’t you worried?”

“I know you, Y/N. You have good instincts, so I trust you. I’ve been hoping this day would come for a while now. You deserve more of a life than this church can offer you. Get out there and make some mistakes. That’s life.”

 You raise your eyebrows. “Make some mistakes?”

He laughs. “I don’t mean blow our cover. I mean mistakes that any other average human being would make. People learn best from the dumb things they do. All I ask is that you be careful, alright?”

“Yeah, of course, I haven’t told him about any of this,” you gesture around the bunker, “Or about–”

“Not just that,” he interrupts, gently. “Be careful with your heart. No matter what, you need to put yourself first. If anything ever feels wrong, trust your gut. You’re smart, you’ll know what’s right or wrong. Don’t allow yourself to be pressured into anything you’re uncomfortable with, and don’t let yourself be treated in any way you don’t deserve.”

“Okay, I promise to be careful. But just so you know, Jimin isn’t like that. I can tell. He wouldn’t do anything to hurt me.”

Hoseok rests a hand on your arm gently. “At the end of the day, each and every one of us is capable of anything. All of us have secrets, and all of us have flaws. Just keep that in mind. But, you know, don’t forget to have fun. Be careful, but allow yourself to let go. You’ve more than earned it.”

You put your hand over his and give it a squeeze. “Thanks, Hobi.”

The conversation gives you a new sense of strength, and just for a second, you allow yourself to believe that maybe everything will work out.

Three days after your talk with Hoseok, you wait outside the building of your fake address, anxious to see Jimin. The conversation with Hoseok has made you even more excited to see him. The two of you had worked out a solution to you not owning a phone, so that if a meet up didn’t work out, you would see eachother the next day in the same place at the same time. Neither of you have ever had to flake on set plans, but it’s nice to have a backup nonetheless.

Jimin is late. He’s never late, which means that you always have to come much earlier so he doesn’t suspect that you don’t actually live here. The apartment you chose has a key code, which means that there’s no way he can actually come inside unless you let him in. Which also means that he’s less likely to find out that you don’t live here. To find out the code to let you in, you tagged behind someone who lives in the apartment and dug around in your bag as though searching for your keys, all the while watching them enter in the code before slipping inside. They were even kind enough to hold the door open for you to let you in. Some people are just too helpful for their own good. 

You scan the area, trying to spot Jimin’s familiar face, but he’s nowhere in sight. Ten minutes pass, fifteen, twenty, then thirty. You bob up and down on your feet, getting more and more restless by the second.

Eventually you have to accept that he’s not coming. You ignore the dejected feeling in your chest and remind yourself that sometimes life happens. You’ll see him tomorrow and everything will be fine.

You drive home and suppress the urge to drive back and keep waiting. Maybe he’ll come. Maybe he got held up, but planned on coming anyway, just in case you were still there. You don’t turn back. You have your own stuff to do anyway. You have to respect yourself enough to remember that before him, you did have a life. Maybe it wasn’t much of a life, but you still had one. You can’t just throw all of that away just for one person. You can’t constantly be waiting around and putting everything else on pause. That’s not healthy.

So you drive home and greet Hoseok, who you hadn’t seen in the morning before leaving since he was out tending the garden (you assume that’s where he was). He looks a bit surprised to see you back early, but doesn’t question it. The two of you are going to have to adjust to the idea of you seeing people. After so many years of it being just the two of you, this is totally new. Or at least to you it is. Sometimes you have to remind yourself that Hoseok has been around for much longer than you. Before this, he probably had friends and hobbies. He probably didn’t spend all of his time watching his back and watching yours for good measure. Every time you remember this, your heart swells both with sadness for the past life he gave up for you, but also swells with immense gratitude that you will never be able to properly express to him. You hope that after this he is able to live life the way he deserves. To surround himself with people who bring as much light to the world as he does, rather than have to extinguish that flame in the underground bunker day in and day out purely to keep you safe. The older you get – the more time that passes without enough progress – the more guilty you feel for holding him back. But you have to remind yourself that you’re not forcing him to stay, that he’s an adult capable of making his own decisions, and sticking around to help you kick butt was the one he made. You wouldn’t hold it against him for a second if he decided he wanted more than what this life has to offer.

“You busy?” You ask.

 He closes the book on selkies he was reading. “Nope, what’s up?”

“Is it okay if we train for a bit? I’m feeling a bit rusty.”

“Yeah, of course. Inside or outside?”

“Outside.”

You both change into more comfortable clothing, grab a blindfold (which is really just a strip of black cloth from one of your old shirts) and head out of the bunker. You need to release some energy and get some training in since you’ve been missing out on it recently because of how much time you spend with Jimin.

There’s a slight chill in the air and you hug your arms around yourself to conserve heat, but you know that after a while of sparring you’ll be warm enough to forget about the cold.

You make way into the forest, to a spot just far enough from the road that if anyone is passing by they won’t hear anything and come looking. When you practice shooting, you go even further. The risk is small, but it’s easier to talk precautions than to try to explain what you’re doing to a complete stranger.

“You wanna do it blindfolded?” He gestures to the cloth in your hand. Every now and then you remain blindfolded while sparring Hoseok, in order to try to hear him before he comes at you. Sometimes it goes okay, but usually you end up on your ass and with ten new bruises on your body. But you keep doing it, because no matter how good you get, you will always be at a disadvantage if you’re up against a supernatural being. There’s only so much your human body can do, so you need to be able to predict your opponent’s moves before they’ve even finished thinking them through. You need to be one step ahead in a dance where you’re always three steps behind. The blindfold isn’t completely opaque, but it’s dark enough that it feels like it’s night time, and all figures are nothing more than silhouettes.

“Yeah, I’m a bit out of practice. Could you use your abilities today? Please?”

 He deliberates, silence hanging between you, before he finally concedes. “Alright. Tell me to stop the second it gets too much.” You nod and tie the blindfold around your eyes, plunging the world into darkness. You steel yourself for what’s to come, your nerves already in overdrive from anticipation. You would trust Hoseok with your life, but that doesn’t make experiencing his abilities any more pleasant.

“Do your worst,” you say, lifting your balled fists and shifting your feet so you’re ready to spring at him at any second. You listen carefully for footsteps padding over grass, the snap of a twig, a breath against your ear. It’s not enough to hear, it’s important to pinpoint where the noise is coming from and act.

There’s a light crunch behind you and you whip around, swinging but making no contact. Another sounds just nearby you, but again nothing. Sometimes Hoseok fools you and makes you think he’s somewhere where he isn’t, which is infuriating, but keeps you on your toes. The bad guys aren’t going to stop when you tell them to stop.

Something in your gut tells you he’s to your left, like that burning feeling you get when you know somebody is watching you, so you target a blow in that direction and strike Hoseok. Your body buzzes with adrenaline and you feel proud of yourself for being right about your hunch, but this is no time to get distracted, so you let your body react, punching and blocking while shuffling back and forth across the forest floor. He may have the advantage of sight, but you’re the better fighter so you’re faster, albeit slightly clumsy. Just when you think you might overpower him, he invades your mind and tears down your defenses. You fight him, remembering all the lessons from before, just barely managing to throw up walls before he crashes through them.

And then it stops.

A thud and a groan follow, and you promptly tear the blindfold off, squinting as your eyes adjust back to the light. Then you see red. Red everywhere. Your hands are covered in blood, Hoseok lying at your feet, his face deformed and wounded, hand pressed tightly against the spreading scarlet on his shirt.

“What the hell did you do to me?” he chokes out.

You completely forget about the training. “Hoseok, what–”

“You did this to me.” His face contorts in pain and you drop to your knees to pull his hand away, to assess the damage so you can help him, but he swats you away. "You did this.” he keeps saying.

“Hobi, no,” you say, heart pounding in your chest. “Please let me help you. You’re bleeding.”

He laughs, humourlessly. “So are they.”

You don’t want to turn around, but you do, and you suck in a sharp breath at the sight before you. Your mother and father lie lifeless on the cold ground, clothing drenched in their own blood. Almost the entirety of your father’s skin has been badly burned, but you’d recognize him anywhere. A sob lodges itself in your throat, but you can’t lose it or else you’ll never gather yourself again.

“Wh-what happened?” You crawl over to them and shake them desperately. Maybe this time they won’t leave you. Maybe this time you’ll have a chance to actually save them. Something twinges in the back of your mind that this isn’t right, something is off here, and you’re just about to grasp reality again when you hear another groan further away, and your body goes ice cold.

Jimin is drawing in painful, heavy breaths, but he’s still standing. Blood blooms across his green sweater and he looks at you with so much hatred it makes your insides curl. “You did this. You killed us all.”

You stumble over to him but he steps back, holding up a hand to prevent you from coming any closer. “Don’t come near me. You’re a liar. This entire time. A cold-blooded killer. I wish I’d never met you. None of this would be happening if not for you.” He takes another step back and falls over, wincing at the way his body hits the ground. You ignore his protests and crouch beside him, trying to push his sweater aside to prevent the bleeding, but he fights against you, repeating over and over that this is because of you, just like Hoseok had.

“You know,” Jimin begins, his voice strained, “It’s a shame the Alpha didn’t get you too. Would’ve spared us all. He should have gotten your parents and you.”

The words cut deep in a place you never knew you could ache before. Your entire body begins to tremble, but you’re not sure from what. Fear, maybe. Anger. If he were anyone else, they would be dead within a heartbeat for saying something like that, but instead you pull off your top and press it against the wound. Blood quickly stains the cloth and you know there’s not much longer left for him. You scream for help, praying that for once there might be somebody nearby with a phone to call an ambulance. You scream and scream while Jimin laughs, his face growing paler by the second.

“You couldn’t save your parents, what makes you think you could save me?”

“I won’t let you die. I won’t let anyone else die because of me,” you say, your body trembling even more now.

And then he’s gone. They’re all gone and you’re on your knees, hands completely clean, hovering in the air where they were touching Jimin just seconds ago. Reality always takes time to come back to you, but this time you lost yourself more than you usually do, and so the divide between truth and illusion doesn’t come back as fast as it should. Jimin was right here, dying in front of you, and he wanted nothing to do with you. None of them did.

“Y/N,” Hoseok rushes to your side and you startle, staring at him. He’s unwounded, safe. Alive. “Y/N, I’m here. I got you.”

It takes you a second to realize that everything was part of the hallucination, that nothing that just transpired was real. The relief hits you like a freight train, but another feeling gnaws at your stomach because you can’t help but wonder if maybe there was some truth to your nightmare.

“Why did you stop?”

Hoseok is looking at you with so much concern and you don’t understand why. Eventually you would have figured out what was going on and the practice could have continued. Your body hadn’t reached its maximum limit, not even by a little bit. But Hoseok doesn’t answer, instead pulls you to him and holds you so gently like you might shatter from the slightest amount of pressure. It’s only then that you realize you’re crying. He keeps you safely enclosed in his arms, only letting go when your body cools down and starts shivering from the cold.

“Come on,” he says, lifting you up slowly and guiding you back to the church. He keeps a hand against your back the entire way, and you’re sure that if it weren’t there, you would probably fall apart.

 Once indoors, you get in the shower and turn the heat up high so its almost scalding. You scrub at yourself vigorously, trying to erase the memory clinging to your skin of what had happened. Or didn’t happen. Your skin is rubbed red and raw when you emerge, but it still doesn’t feel like enough. There might not be any blood on your hands, but you can still feel it, coating your skin like the remorse festering in your heart.

Hoseok holds out a cup of chamomile tea once you get out and you accept it gratefully.

“How are you feeling?” He asks.

You shrug, sitting down on the floor, back against the wall.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N.” Hoseok drops his gaze in shame. “I should have said no-”

“Hobi, stop,” you intercede. “I asked. It’s okay. We both knew it wouldn’t end well. I don’t know what happened out there, usually I’m in more control than that. It’s not your fault, it’s mine. I’m sorry if you felt pressured into something you didn’t want to do, though. I know you don’t like using your abilities, I’m sorry you had to do that." 

"I’ll dial it back next time.” You know even that was tame for what he can do, but you don’t say anything. “Do you want to talk about what you saw?”

You set the tea down on the floor and take a deep breath, closing your eyes. The last thing you want to do is think about what you saw, but talking it out does help sometimes. Sometimes you just need to be alone to grieve. Usually you try talking it out, something Hoseok has encouraged you many times to do so whatever is bothering you doesn’t keep chipping away at you so there’s more to work through than there needs to be.

 "The usual. But it was different this time. Jimin was there too.“ Your cheeks heat up admitting this and you’re not quite ready to ponder over the depth of what it means that he was there too. "There was blood, everywhere. I think-I think I did it. I don’t know. You all kept saying I did. That it was my fault.” Emotion swells in your throat again and you clear it forcefully, unwilling to cry yet again. Crying is good, but you don’t like the gross, puffy feeling that comes afterward that lingers for hours on end. “Maybe you were right, to an extent. Or at least, Jimin was right. He called me a liar. He called me lots of things, actually. And deny it as much as I want, I am lying to him, every single day. What if one of these days he finds out? Or what if one of my lies catches up to me and hurts him? What then?”

Hoseok sits down in front of you and takes your hands. Somehow, Hoseok still has a response to put you at ease, just like always. “You can never predict who is going to get hurt in this world, so you just… Have to trust yourself. Let yourself live a little. Sometimes… Sometimes people are worth the risk. Even if he finds out some day, who’s to say he won’t understand?” He reaches out and lifts your chin so you look at him. His warm smile makes some of the worry you feel subside, and this time you feel yourself getting emotional for another reason.

“People will surprise you. If he cares enough about you, he’ll be willing to look deeper, past the things you’ve done. If he can’t do that, then he’ll be losing someone absolutely incredible, and that’s the greater misfortune in this case,” he says.

“I’m so scared,” you whisper, averting your gaze to your lap. “Sometimes I wonder if this is all worth it. I’m always so scared that one day I’m going to lose you or Jimin, just because of this mission. My parents aren’t coming back. They’re dead and staying dead, even if we succeed. But when I think about giving up it just… They deserve vengeance. I can’t let them go like that. Not when we’ve both risked so much and tried so hard.”

Hoseok rubs his thumb in circles over the back of your palm, a gesture that somehow helps ground you. “I’m not going anywhere, and there’s no need to ever worry about me, alright? If anything ever happened, I would be fine. If you want to continue fighting, we’ll fight. If you want to let this mission go, we’ll let it go. And in terms of Jimin, you’re doing what you can to protect him. If you think it’s right to let him go, then do what you have to do. But don’t let him go because you’re afraid. Only do what you think is the smart move. If… If you feel the need to tell him about everything that we’re doing and what we are, then I won’t hold it against you.”

 This really surprises you. “You’d be okay with that?”

“If you thought that was a necessary choice to make, then yes. Of course.”

“You know you’re the best, right?”

He shrugs nonchalantly. “I try. Now, come on, let’s turn that frown upside down. Get in your PJs and we’ll watch whatever movie you want. I’ll make popcorn.”

You end up watching a depressing romance movie, which has you sobbing by the end, and you’re sure you catch Hoseok trying to discreetly wipe away a tear at some point. It feels good to have a release like that, even though you’re just crying over a movie. 

Neither of you has the energy to move off the couch after the movie, so you lie your head down on Hoseok’s lap, and the two of you talk for a while until your responses become slower and eventually you’re both in dreamland. You doze restlessly (as one does when they’re sleeping on somebody else) and after a couple hours force yourself to get up and get in bed. Hoseok opens his eyes, looking at you groggily before passing out once more.

You don’t dream, thankfully, because you’re sure if you had they would probably be nightmares. When you wake up, the guilt hits you again like a shit ton of bricks. You pull your pillow over your head, pressing it tightly against you, hoping that maybe you could squeeze it out of your body, even though the thought is completely ridiculous. You try to go back to sleep so that maybe you won’t have to think about it, but once you’re up, you’re up. So you haul yourself out of bed and eat breakfast, talk to Hoseok, and do everything you normally would do. You refuse to just hole up and let your feelings rot and stink up your head. You have to keep yourself busy.

Hoseok suggests going for a walk, and you almost can’t get your shoes on fast enough. You know you’re supposed to meet with Jimin today since he wasn’t able to make it the day before and any other day you would be out the door, leaving a trail of fire behind you from excitement. But today is different. You knew since yesterday that you wouldn’t be going. Which makes you feel worse, but you need time to yourself. Reality is beginning to catch up to you and run as you might it’s going to gain on you eventually and force you to make a choice. Do you accept the risks of keeping Jimin in your life, or do you walk away now before either of you gets too attached? The thought of having to cut him off hurts. He’s the first friend you’ve ever had and you honestly feel like the luckiest person in the world to have the privilege of knowing him. 

A part of you hopes that whatever kept Jimin busy yesterday keeps him busy today too so he doesn’t end up waiting for you, only for you not to show up. Hoseok falls into step beside you. The autumn air has a bite to it, but you’re glad because it keeps you alert and ready for anything. It also calms your mind and you can stop thinking, just for a little bit. Neither of you really has a destination in mind, which is fine. You probably won’t end up going very far since you’re on foot and you don’t want to completely abandon everything. You just need a temporary escape to get your head on straight. Eventually you have to face the music and tackle reality, but for now you focus on the chill in the air, the damp grass under your feet, and Hoseok’s familiar stride beside you.

“Has this place changed much since the first time we came here?” You suddenly ask him.

Hoseok looks around and you wonder what he sees. You can’t remember much of the journey to the church since you were so young. The days had blended together in a haze of grief and foreign sights – places that extended far past the boundary around your home that your parents laid out for you. You wonder what the experience had been like for him and whether it’s tainted by the same things, or if he saw it as the beginning of something new and exciting.

Sometimes you think that you adopted the same precautions your parents did; after all, you established boundaries for yourself. Boundaries around the church and boundaries around your heart that nobody could slip through. Well, until Jimin.

“Everything changes,” Hoseok says. “That’s just a part of life. But the forest has always felt the same. Every now and then I’m reminded of when I found you. Especially around this time of year. ” He looks at you. “We’ve changed. For the better, mostly. I’m proud of you, you know. Even after everything you’ve been through, you became the strongest, bravest, kindest person I know.”

“Thanks, Hobi,” you say, nudging him a little. “Would you ever re-do it all? You had a life before this and then all of a sudden you had this kid to take care of. Do you ever regret it?”

He shakes his head. “Never. If I had to re-do my decision, I would choose the same path again. I will never regret you.”

While you’re on the subject, you ask a question that you almost steer clear of. There’s almost an unspoken rule that the subject is to never be brought up. The moment feels right, so you take the risk, even though you know chances are he’ll avoid answering and switch to another subject. “Do you ever think about your family?”  

“You are my family.”

“Hoseok.”

He hesitates and for a second you think he’s going to end the conversation there. It’s rare for Hoseok to open up fully about his family, so when he does, you treasure the moments deeply. He’s open about pretty much everything in life, apart from what happened in his past. All you know is that his family is dead, but he never gets into the details. There’s so much you don’t know about him, about the Dark Court he fled and why he fled. Whenever you try to broach the topic with him, he shuts it down in two seconds flat. So you proceed with caution. You want to know more about him, to understand him better, but you know that if you say the wrong thing, the moment will be over. He won’t open up like this again for a long time.

“No, I try not to.”

“Do you miss them?”

“No.”

 "No?“

 "After the things they did… I don’t know how I could.”

You chew on your lip, facing forward, not daring to look at him. If you do, he might get uncomfortable and stop talking. You’re not only glad that he’s opening up to you, but you’re also glad that he’s finally, maybe, going to talk about it. It’s not hard to tell that he has tried to bury dark secrets, and you know how that can feel. You know how secrets can eat you alive if you don’t talk about them.

 "What happened?“ You prompt him carefully.

You glance over at him, briefly to check his expression, and see something in his eyes shift, the way people get when they’re transported to another time, not quite seeing what’s in front of them.

"I fell in love with a boy from the Summer Court. We kept our relationship a secret, because we knew that if anybody found out, all hell would break loose. The Dark Court only has enemies, never allies. They are always ready for war. The fuse is ready, somebody just needs to give them an excuse to light it. But the Summer Court will do anything to avoid war. I was one of the Queen’s personal guards and he was the heir to the Summer King’s throne. It would be the ultimate betrayal.

"I wanted out of the Dark Court, but there was no way I could do it alone. We both knew we had to involve as few people as possible and keep things quiet since it was such a huge risk. And honestly, I would have taken all the risks just to be with him. He was worth that. But I made the mistake of turning to my family for help. They turned us in, he was killed along with the rest of them, and so the war between the Summer and Dark Court began.”

"Hoseok, I’m so sorry,” you say. “I can’t believe they would do something so horrible to you.”

He lets out a deep sigh, as though he were finally letting out all the air he’d been holding inside himself for years. “They thought they were doing the right thing. It’s awful, but that’s the way Dark fey think. Things work differently for us. For them. There is no such thing as mercy, which makes them very dangerous. If you ever come across Dark fey, promise me you’ll run like hell. Don’t fight, don’t try to reason with them. Run as fast as you can and don’t look back.”

“I will.” Hoseok taught you many years ago what Dark fey look like, assuring you that if you ever saw one, you’d know it was Dark fey without a shadow of a doubt. Dark fey’s appearance takes on the form of everything they believe in. Nightmares, darkness, death. Their exterior is disfigured and everything on the inside, everything they stand for, mirrors the outside. You once asked Hoseok why he doesn’t look like Dark fey. If he hadn’t told you, you would’ve never known what he was. He told you he made a deal with the Summer King, who would rid Hoseok of his physical atrocities in exchange for information about the Dark Court that might help with the war. Now that you know more of the story, you look at Hoseok in a new light. To go to the Summer Court was a big risk and they could have easily turned him away. You now understand the pained expression he had when he told you all of this years ago. Though you want to tell him that none of this is his fault, that had his family not done what they did this would never have happened, you think it wouldn’t help, so you leave it. You just hope that in the future if he needs to talk, he knows that you’re ready to listen.

As you walk further, you think over his story, trying to find the silver lining. Something about it gives you hope. If a Summer and a Dark faerie could somehow manage to overcome their differences and love one another wholeheartedly, what’s to say Jimin couldn’t accept you? Sure, he comes from the human world where supernatural things aren’t exactly 'normal’, but hopefully he would be able to see it in himself to try and see things from your point of view. Purely in a platonic sense, of course. If things ever come to that.

As you walk, Hoseok tells you a bit more about the Dark Court, about the wonderful things he learned about the Summer Court, about the boy he had fallen in love with. You wish you could have seen Hoseok back then. Seen the happiness that must have lit up his face when he was with the boy. You want to close the subject on a good note, ending with happy memories rather than sad ones, so you ask him what it felt like to be in love. 

 A tiny smile tugs at the corners of his lips as he undoubtedly recalls fond memories from the past. Bingo. “It felt like light had been restored to the world. His laughter could make flowers bloom and his smile… I lived for that smile. I would have given anything just for him to be happy every day of his life. He made me want to be a better person. Somehow he saw through all the darkness and all the horrors that made me who I was. He helped me see myself for who I could be.

"Anything that happened, he would be the first person I wanted to tell. I wanted to share my life with him. Every detail of it. Every time I looked at him, my heart felt like it might burst from all the love it was carrying. He changed my life and I’ll never forget him. You never forget your first love.” Hoseok’s glazed over eyes seem to clear and you can tell he’s coming back to reality. “He taught me a lot of important lessons and he taught me that not everybody always needs to have an ulterior motive when doing something. People should be willing to lend a hand in exchange for nothing, to help without being owed anything in return. He was that kind of person. He gave so much of himself to the world, and he had so much more to give–”

He breaks off, going completely still. “Did you hear that?”

You frown. “No, what?”

His eyes flick around the forest and you both strain to hear whatever he just heard. You don’t say anything in case there is someone out there and it draws attention to you. Of course, neither of you is doing anything wrong, but you can never really tell who your friends and who your enemies are. There could either be an innocent hiker out there, or somebody you’ve upset along the way with your mission. But the silence stretches on and you’re beginning to think that maybe Hoseok heard a bird or something.

Then everything explodes in a sea of sound. Gunshots split the air and Hoseok is yelling at you to run. You draw the gun out from your pocket, shooting without aiming in any particular direction. You can’t see who is shooting, which puts you at a severe disadvantage.

 A bullet grazes your leg and you nearly trip over, but you manage to catch yourself just in time. Hoseok shouts your name and you spin around to face him. You didn’t realize how far he was. “Behind you!”

You don’t have time to react, to so much as see your captor before everything goes black.

Beauty and the Beast AU

I really liked the idea of doing a Carry On Beauty and the Beast AU after seeing the movie. After seeing @ace-artemis-fanartist do this AMAZING fanart AU version I decided to go for it! Let me know if your interested in this becoming chaptered :) The next chapters are available here: 2 3

Simon

The castle loomed darkly against the grey sky, a shadowy figure in the crisp wilderness. Simon shivered lightly in the cold weather, rubbing his arms against the wind. He wasn’t sure why he had come here; it wasn’t like he actually owed his father anything. But he had tracked him to this desolate place and felt the familiar need to keep his father close to him.

His footsteps crunching in the snow were the only audible sound. The place was incredibly eerie, even if it was beautiful. He had no idea what his father was doing in a place like this or why he hadn’t reached out to him. But it seemed dangerous; Simon’s magic swirled close to the surface of his skin.

As he reached the doorway he paused. Something told him that once he entered this place he would not come back the same. If he wanted to, he could walk away, let his father conduct his strange business in this creepy castle, and return to life in the village. Agatha was waiting for him there with a thousand promises in her brown eyes. There were a million reasons for him to walk away.

He took a deep breath and pushed the heavy doors open. His heart beat rapidly as he waited for something to jump out at him. As the seconds ticked by though, he noticed that the entryway was empty. With a frown, he stepped through the threshold. 

The room was dank, as if it hadn’t seen sunlight in many years. As he stepped further into the castle he noticed a large sitting area to his left. Seemingly on its own accord, the fireplace lit up with bright orange flames. Simon jumped back a step and put his hand over the hilt of his sword. But nobody attacked him from behind the large fireplace. 

Simon had been raised around magic his whole life, loved it even, yet he felt there was something wrong about this place. It was as if the castle dripped in something heavy, a kind of twisted magic hung in the air. 

“Look Niall! I told you he would come!” He heard someone hiss behind him.

Simon froze, trying to appear as if he hadn’t heard the voice.

“Oh, shut up Dev!” Another voice whispered.

Simon whipped around, sure that he would discover who was speaking and found himself utterly confused. Behind him, on the stairs, lay a clock and candelabra, as if left there by mistake. 

“What in Merlin…” Simon muttered.

The place was starting creep him out. Figuring it would be useful in the dark space, Simon picked up the candelabra and started up the grand staircase. The castle was obviously quite large and, in its own eerie way, very grand; but Simon could not understand what it was doing in the middle of the woods. Had his father, deluded by his own power, built a castle in forested isolation to pretend to be king? Simon had to admit that it was not that big of a stretch for his father. It didn’t, however, explain the strange whispering. Or the dark magic.

He found a corridor off to his left and walked up the stone steps, knowing that his father had a tendency to seek high ground. Eventually it became clear that he was in the dungeons of the castle, something that would normally cause him to go back to the main staircase. But he couldn’t shake the feeling that he was getting closer to his father with every step. Eventually he turned a corner and found the one cell that wasn’t empty in the vast tower.

In the corner his father lay balled up, his green cloak stained by the water dripping from the stone ceiling. Simon drew in an audible breath. Stirred by the noise, David Snow turned and looked at his son, his eyes blank. Then he jumped out of his slumped position and threw himself at the bars.

“Oh my son! My son! Thank Merlin you’ve found me!”

“Father…what happened to you?”

His father’s eyes shifted to look behind him.

“I was looking for something in the woods…I got lost. Eventually I found this place and decided to rest here for a bit. But Simon, my boy, there’s something terrible in this place.”

Simon glanced around him.

“Yeah I know. I can feel the dark magic here.”

“No!” His father yelled, grabbing Simon’s jacket through the bars, “You don’t understand! There’s a thing here, an evil creature! He’s the one who locked me up!”

Simon wondered if his father had hit his head.

“I’m sure he was a horrible man if he could do something like this to you father, but let’s not get carried away.”

His father’s eyes widened and his face went white. Weakly, he let go of Simon and backed away from him, his eyes focused on something behind Simon. His legs began to shake.

“Not a man…” His father trailed off.

Simon felt a chill run down his spine.

“A beast.”

Simon whipped around and came face to face with his father’s captor. He was taller than Simon, enough so to loom over him. His skin was as grey as the sky outside the castle, and his eyes were the same color, if not a little stormier. His hair was jet black and wild about his face, as if he hadn’t cut it in years. All of this, strange as it was, was still human enough. 

But the fangs, the horrible, sharp fangs that protruded from his dark red lips were undoubtedly beastly.  His expression matched the cruelness of his appearance, a mask of pure and utter rage. 

Simon did not know what to call this person, as he somehow had ascertained the creature in front of him was indeed a person. His sword was already drawn, but he had the sinking feeling it would do little against the menacing man in front of him.

“You dare take up a sword against me? In my own home?” The man hissed.

Simon swallowed loudly.

“I-I didn’t mean to offend you. It’s just that you…well, you surprised me.”

The man studied him.

“Well?”

“Well what?” Simon said.

“Well why haven’t you put your sword down yet? Seeing as you only drew out of bewilderment.” 

Simon deliberated. Putting down the sword meant relinquishing his best weapon and left him vulnerable. But keeping it drawn would likely make the man attack. Slowly he sheathed his sword. 

“There,” Simon said.

The man sneered.

“What are you doing in my castle? I don’t like trespassers.”

Simon clenched his jaw.

“I wasn’t trying to trespass. My father went missing a few days ago and I tracked him here. I didn’t realize the castle was occupied by you.”

The man snarled loudly.

“So you’re the son of this disgusting excuse of a man?”

Simon growled back at him.

“How dare you talk about my father like that!” Simon yelled.

The man threw him up onto the bars in a rush, barely exerting himself. Simon had been right to assume that the man was unnaturally strong. He felt his breath rush out of him against the force of the blow. 

“Your father tried to slit my throat in my sleep.”

Simon wanted to deny it, to say his father would never be capable of such a thing, but he knew that he couldn’t. Unfortunately, Simon could very well imagine his father doing just that sort of thing. The man waited for Simon to defend his father and when it was clear he wouldn’t, set Simon down.

“Simon,” His father whimpered, “He’s a monster! I only thought I was doing the right thing!”

The man laughed darkly.

“Is that so? Is stuffing your bag with dozens of my possessions doing the right thing?”

Simon looked down. His father was not a good man, Simon knew this already, but he was the only family he had left. Whether he liked it or not, he would need to break his father out of the castle.

In a flash Simon had his wand out and pointed at the monstrous man’s throat. He was prepared to say a spell when the man laughed raucously. Simon paused, his mouth hanging open in confusion.

“Going to cast a spell are you? I don’t think you’ll have much luck with that.”

Simon realized that although he could feel his magic, he couldn’t tap into it.

“Why…what’s wrong with this place?

The man pulled back his upper lip to expose more of his fangs. It was truly a terrible sight, an image that made fear run up the length of Simon’s body.

“It’s cursed. Like me.”

“What are you?” Simon whispered. 

Something flitted across the man’s expression, too quick for Simon to decipher. As quickly as it had come, the look left the man’s expression and was replaced by cold disinterest.

“Enough questions. Your father will spend the rest of his life rotting in this cell; I don’t care what you think about it. He committed treason as far as I’m concerned. “

Simon sagged in defeat. The smart move would be to respectfully apologize on behalf of his father and to leave. It was in his best interest to leave his father, and this mysterious man, behind him forever. After all, his father had committed horrible crimes; he deserved to be here.

“I know,” Simon started, “That what my father did was despicable.”

His father moaned weakly in his cell.

“But,” Simon continued, through gritted teeth, “I cannot simply leave him here. I have no hope of beating you in a fight without my magic and I don’t wish for my family name to cause any more violence in your home.”

The man frowned.

“And so?”

“And so…” Simon trailed off, “Punish me instead.”

The man’s eyes widened. From behind him he could hear his father shrieking with happiness. Simon closed his eyes, trying to quell the pain in his chest. 

“You would take your father’s place?”

Simon felt his father grab his leg through the bars. He was kissing Simon’s calf.

“Thank you my son. Oh. Bless you. I won’t forget this.”

Simon’s throat hurt.

“Yes, I will take his place.”

The man pointed in disgust to his father, who was crying in happiness on his hands and knees.

“You would sacrifice your entire life? For a coward like this?”

“Enough questions,” Simon threw the man’s earlier words back at him, “Just let him go and do what you want with me.”

The man glared at him for a minute, as if he was unwilling to accept Simon’s offer. Eventually though, he pushed Simon aside and unlocked the cell door. His father sprang out and ran down the stairs, without a backwards glance at Simon. 

“I’ll come back for you Simon! I swear it,” He heard his father shout out from below.

Simon knew it was a lie. He knew that unless he found some way to escape on his own that he would be stuck here until he died. David Snow was not a good man but he was an even worse father.

The man allowed Simon the dignity of entering the cell on his own as opposed to throwing him in. Keeping eye contact with him, the man closed and locked the cell door.

“Your father is a selfish and cruel man. But you…”

Simon waited for him to continue. With a shake of his head, the man turned away and began to walk down the stone stairway.

“You are a fool.”

With that, the man walked away, leaving Simon completely alone. Sighing, Simon slid down to the floor. He wished he could say that the man was a monster, that he had forced Simon’s hand and treated his father unfairly. But the truth was cruel, and Simon had to bite his lip to stop himself from screaming.

The truth was that his father had deserved what he got.

And the beast had been right; Simon Snow was the biggest fool of all.