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milady-pink · 9 months

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Rosewood Manor

Summary: Our guests discover the first victim or Mr. Y. But it’s all just a game!

Warnings: death/ murder, no mention of blood, strangulation, nightmares

Word Count: 1821 || Dividers: @firefly-graphics

Complete Series

AO3

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Chapter 4

Christine dreamed of her father. It started out fairly normal, for a dream that is, but soon caused her great distress. She was wandering along, dark hallway; scared and alone. Then, all of a sudden, she hears the most beautiful violin music coming from down the hallway. When she looks in the direction of the music, a faint light is calling her name at the end of the corridor. Christine starts to sprint, running as fast as her legs will carry her, eventually crying out to the light, “wait papa, wait for me!” Just when she is about to reach the light, smelling her father’s aftershave, recognizing his silhouette…

…she wakes up.

Just like last time, she thinks.

After relinquishing thoughts of going back to sleep, Christine checks her phone for the time; it reads 7:37. Deciding breakfast must be soon, she gets out of bed and starts to get ready for the day ahead. She stands before the closet, breath minty and hair presentable, settling on a simple top and jeans with a pair of comfortable shoes. She reads the time again, 7:49, and precedes to leave her room in favor of food.

The Manor was eerily quiet as Christine made her way down the staircase towards the dining room, but the bird songs calling from outside and the bright morning light eased some of her nerves.

Arriving through the double French doors, the smell of coffee, eggs, toast, and bacon hit her nose. At the same time, her eyes feasted upon the intricate breakfast buffet that laid spread across the table. Like previously thought, there lay a pot of coffee, two platters for scrambled eggs and bacon, and a silver toast rack packed with carbs. Coinciding with these treats were jars of jelly and jam, a glass butter dish, a painted ceramic cup with milk sitting next to a sugar bowl, and a large glass bowl of freshly cut fruit. Stirring her out of the mouthwatering display in front of her, Christine’s stomach growled.

“Someone sounds hungry,” a plummy voiced woman teased. When she turned her head towards the voice, Christine saw Carlotta smirk as she passed by to her seat from the previous night.

“I just didn’t expect such an array, that’s all,” she trailed off, uncomfortably put on the spot. She’s starting to get on my nerves a bit.

“Hmmm, you would be impressed by the bare minimum. Unlike me, luxury must be sparse for the common people.” Ok, really getting on my nerves.

Moving to her seat, Christine just sat down when Jamie entered the room.

“Ah, another one, just like you dear.” She said to Christine about the blonde girl. Jamie looked between the two, not knowing what Carlotta was talking about, but certainly distressed by it.

Deciding she has had enough of the class shaming, Christine asked Jamie how she slept, trying to ease the nervous girl and maybe make a friend.

“Fine, thank you,” she answered with a grateful smile. After making herself a plate with a bit of fruit, toast and eggs, and a cup of coffee with sugar and cream, three more guests arrived. Raoul, Sorelli, and Firmin walked through the doors and made their way to their seats; all the while gazing at the feastly array in front of them.

“Good morning all, I pray you are all rested,” greeted a very lively Firmin as he fixed himself a plate.

“Looks like someone woke up on the right side of the bed,” remarked Raoul, ever the charmer. In response Firmin simply smiled like he knew something the rest of the party did not. “I just hope the same can be said for those two,” Raoul stated, looking at the two empty chairs.

Piangi and Andre

“You don’t think he would have killed two people on the first night, do you?” Questioned an on edge Jamie.

“First of all, I doubt any harm will fall upon anyone, second of all how do we. Know it's a boy? There's an equal number of men and women here, it could be anyone.” This came from Sorelli, who seemed to be quite sure of herself, if her silvery voice was anything to go by. “I’m sure we’ll just play some games, like Clue, and whoever wins, wins.” There was something very soothing about the confidence in her statements, that even Christine felt her nerves quelled.

Just as Sorelli finished speaking, two boisterous laughs could be heard from the ballroom. Turning the corner, entering the dining room was Piangi and Andre, in the flesh, without a single scratch on them.

“Sorry we were late, even after a tour this one needs a GPS to help him navigate the house.” Piangi jokes, referencing Andre. The two continued to giggle, while the rest smiled at their banter, as they went to take their seats.

“I can’t blame you, I almost got lost in my room,” shared Firmin. The entire table shared a laugh, as the group’s earlier tension eased away, and everyone slipped into light conversation while eating the decadent breakfast at their disposal.

Unfortunately, after everyone was finished with their plates, some tension made its way back into the room as their collective steward with half a face of a snowy mask that matched the ice of his stance; Erik had returned, with another letter.

“I hope you all slept well for your first night, I have here in my hands a note from my employer,” at this everyone shifted in their seats, uncomfortably, “which, I believe, shall detail an array of activities for your first day at Rosewood Manor.” He took the time to open the note with the same letter opener from last night. I wonder where he sleeps. Or eats, for that matter, thought Christine. Once opened and unfolded, his velvet voice began to lull everyone in as Erik read the letter and described the various options at the Manor.

They included, but were not limited to; painting in the backyard, yoga by the pool, table tennis and pool in the billiard room, or reading in the library.

“Once you’ve decided where you’d like to go, myself and the maids, whom you’ve already met, will guide you there. We will be waiting in the foyer after you are all ready. In the event you choose to change your mind, we are at your disposal for directions to your destination.” And with that, Erik left the room, yet again leaving the guests with an air of unease.

Left alone with their thoughts for a bit, everyone decided where they wanted to spend the morning. The party got up, and left the table to the foyer.

In the end, Andre, Piangi, and Raoul chose to play some games in the billiard room; Jamie, and Carlotta chose painting outdoors; and Sorelli and Christine decided on yoga by the pool; which meant Firmin was on his own to read in the library.

Going from downward dog into upward dog, Christine couldn’t have chosen a better way to start her little getaway. She had left earlier to her room to get dressed in more appropriate clothing. With the sun on her face was the cherry on top, feeling her muscles stretch and loosen up, leaving Christine feeling satisfied. From their spot on the tile near the pool, Sorelli and Christine could also see Jamie and Carlotta across the patio, painting. The entire outdoors was silent, except for the buzzing of bees, the blowing of the winds, and birds chirping. All in all, she was very happy to be there.

It seemed to Christine that Jamie had had enough of the sun. While she sat cross legged, trying to zen out, she peeked open an eye and noticed Jamie speak to the maid that stood beside the doors leading inside. The maid turned and pointed inside, seemingly explaining directions to the blonde. Jamie thanked her, went inside. Christine put the exchange out of her mind as she finally got into her head enough to focus on nothing but being.

Until a bloody scream broke out.

Causing such an alarm Christine jumped a little, snapping her eyes open immediately. Looking to her left, Sorelli had the same surprised expression as Christine; looking across the patio, Carlotta had gotten green paint on her hand.

“What was that?!”, exclaimed Carlotta, with an angry tinge. “I think we’re going to find out. Come on.” Replied Sorelli as she began standing up. Christine and Carlotta didn’t know what else to do except follow her; she definitely knew how to take charge in any situation.

As the three women entered the house, they came to an impasse; they were outside, so they didn’t know where the scream came from within the house. Thankfully, their trio ran across some of the men who were in the billiard room; Piangi, Raoul, but no Andre.

“What happened?” Questioned Raoul, with a frantic look.

“We don’t know, but I think that was Jamie screaming,” replied Sorelli, taking charge.

“I think it came from the library,” ventured Piangi, the five of them immediately going to the Manor’s library to investigate. When they get there, the group finds the library doors open, so they venture inside. Nothing was out of ordinary in the library, but Jamie sat shaking in one of the forest green, wingback chairs.

“Jamie what happened?” Asked Christine, crouching in front of the girl, noticing just how badly she was shaken up.

“I-in there,” she quaked, pointing into the adjoining office. It seemed the door was open yet the group was more concerned for Jamie then what was in there. Raoul walked over to the opened door, his face visibly paling as he looked into the room. Sorelli took notice, also going over to the office door and taking a look inside. She audibly gasped at the sight. Deciding she too had to find out what had shaken Jamie to the bone, Christine stood up and made her way over to the door, with Piangi not far behind her. She couldn’t believe her eyes.

There, lying on the carpeted floor, lay Richard Firmin…

…Dead

His body lay in an uncomfortable position that no human would willingly go into. Around his neck there was some bruising that could be seen from where she stood. The group turned around at the sound of hurried footsteps and saw a confused Andre enter the library.

“What’s happened?” He asked, clearly out of the loop.

“Jamie fou-,” Christine started

“Where were you?” Sorelli cut off, plain suspicion written across her face.

“I left for the bathroom, why, what happened?” He asked again, obviously not understanding Sorelli’s abrasive behavior. Once again, however, the remaining guests saw another figure walk into the library, silent as a mouse. Erik sauntered over to the open office door, looked inside, and without so much as a hint of remorse states,

“It appears, the game has begun.”

#phantom of the opera #erik x christine #christine x raoul #christine daae #erik destler #raoul de chagny #musical fanfic #gaston leroux #phandom #la sorelli #la carlotta #meg giry #nadir khan #murder mystery #foodporn

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hikikomorialice · 2 years

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So, Guardians of the Galaxy: Cosmic Rewind opened in Epcot about a month ago, which means more merch.

As well as a plethora of Guardians merch, there's just as much specifically for the Nova Corps - including their information on threats to the universe.

Cue the Loki merch!

Nova Corps Data File Mystery Pin Box

First up is a blind box with 2 pins inside, featuring the data file and threat level of Hela, Taskmaster, Ronan, Red Skull, Thanos, or Loki.

Data Cards

Available for the same villains previously mentioned, and apparently they can interact with the ride's queue? (IDK how, I'm British and poor)

There's also a t-shirt with Thanos, Loki, Ronan, and the Taskmaster data files down the left side of the front.

And a kid-sized t-shirt of just Loki's data file.

Sculpted Pens

2 pens of the sceptres used by Loki and Eson, just plain black ink.

Loki Goblet

A ceramic bowl/cup based on Loki's armour, held aloft by the shape of his iconic horned helmet. Looks better in person imo.

Loki's Helmet

Plastic replica of Loki's helmet in Ragnarok. Horns seem to be removable for easier transportation.

Loki's Sceptre with Mind Stone

Plastic replica that glows when the mind stone is inside a compartment in the staff:

ANY of the Infinity Stones can be placed inside any of the other vessels, which each come with their assigned stone.

Different stones cause different light effects BUT I'm not sure about the sceptre as it's colour is artificially changed blue anyway...

The Infinity Stones can also be bought as a separate set if you don't want to buy every artifact.

Or, all stones come with either of the gauntlets:

#loki merch #epcotdisney #epcot rides #wonder of xandar #cosmic rewind #guardians of the galaxy #Avengers infinity war #infinity stones #nova corps

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originalpackersandmoversblog · 8 months

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Astounding Moves toward Pack and Move Lounge area Things!

Whenever we consider migrations, we are just worried about the prosperity of our merchandise and assets while they are being moved. We have a more than adequate number of valuable articles and assets that we assemble throughout the long term and with regards to setting them up for an impending move, we really do stay stressed and the sum total of that our thoughts is how might we figure out how to do that, by itself. Yet, you can save to the side your concerns for some time since there are numerous ways that you can coordinate into your pressing day procedure to have a protected and helpful move. Additionally, we recommend that you hire professionals from a reputable packing and moving company, Agarwal Packers, who will assist you in beginning the packing process in an effective manner!

Outline

At the point when we set up our family for an impending move, we go by either the room-by-room pressing interaction or basically pack and set up the most muddled part of our homes - that could be our kitchen, our room, or our feasting lobby space. In the event that you are likewise into a comparable zone and will pack your lounge area things first, prior to getting into different pieces of your pressing cycle, here is an aide that would prove to be useful!

Note: Our precious cutlery and crockery, which are all different shapes and difficult to clean and prepare for the move, typically reside in our dining room. Therefore, when you are removing all of your delicate items, such as chinaware and crystal, from the dining area, don't rush. If you don't feel confident handling these high-value items on your own, you always have the option of enlisting the help of a professional.

When you are handling the items on your own, for instance, you should have the following basic packing supplies:

Pressing Paper

Bubble Wraps

Pressing Peanuts

Hard core Tape

Old Paper

Delicate Fabric

Moving Containers

Cardboard Boxes

Froth Sheets

Indelible Markers

When you have the previously mentioned loading supplies with you, we should get into the pressing system of the most delicate things in your lounge area:

• Pack Specialized China Items: When packing chinaware and stemware, the most important thing is to provide ample cushioning. Continuously cover the base with a twofold layer of pressing paper or use bubble wraps to add protection to the moving boxes. Each piece of china bowls, cups, and dishes should be wrapped neatly in paper (plain paper can also be used, if available). Abstain from involving papers for wrapping as it would leave stains and engravings on your vessels (Blending bowls) and feasting dishes. To ensure that there is no additional space within the moving box, make sure to use packing peanuts and crumpled paper balls to fill in the gaps.

Whenever you have wrapped all the china plates, bowls, and different things adequately in pressing paper, ensure you stack them in a systematic way into the moving containers, with an additional layer of pressing in the middle of between the plates and dishes, and fill in the vacuum inside the cups and bowls by stuffing additional paper or air pocket wraps, so there is no quake or shudder. As a rule, when you employ the specialists - like the experts of Agarwal Packers and Movers, they deal with everything for you, so you can breathe a sigh of relief yet in the event that you wish to do that all alone, go for it!

• Pack glass things and other delicate articles - Whether you are pressing china things or ceramic, stemware, or porcelain articles, you ought to make a point not to put a lot of tension while you are setting them into the moving containers. Cover the glass plates, containers, bowls, serving plate, and so forth. that you need to move, with twofold layers of pressing paper, covering each conceivable corner for sufficient padding. Pack soft clothes into any empty space you can to minimize damage during shipping.

Now let's get started on setting up the furniture in your dining room. There is a specific interaction expected to do that really and you being a novice, would require a direction to do that. Therefore, ensure that you adhere to the steps listed below:

• Set up your lounge area seats - In any case, you ought to initially clear off the soil, residue, and flotsam and jetsam in it before you pack them. Do that with a dry old piece of fabric and afterward rehash the cycle with a moist material and wipe the legs, handles, backrest, and some other region you think ought to be cleaned.

• Do likewise with the eating table - Assuming your table top is separable, you ought to do that whenever you have cleared off the soil and grime from its surface and the legs. While you are dismantling the seats and tables, ensure you don't hurt yourself in the process on the grounds that the pieces are weighty and misusing can cause mishaps. Keep the tools, such as screws, nuts, and bolts. and any other small items in a separate zip-lock bag or transparent pouch, and secure the bag in a secure location.

Note: You ought to painstakingly wrap the disengaged pieces of your lounge area furniture - tables and seats in pressing paper, finished off with a layer of air pocket wrap for absolute attention to detail and security. You can even cover the top of your dining table—or any other table in your home—with furniture pads or moving blankets to keep it from getting scratched or stained during the moving and shifting process.

EndNote

Do you think that all of these things would be a lot to finish and even more difficult to do before your house move? Because it is, we suggest that you hire packing professionals from Agarwal Movers and Packers to handle the task. These professionals will ensure that your pricey dining room items, including furniture and fittings, as well as all of your priceless crockery and crystal, are packed and shipped in a safe and secure manner.

#best packers and movers #original agarwal packers and movers #trusted packers and movers #leading agarwal movers

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apachibathfittings · 2 years

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Apachi bathroom fittings are the perfect fittings for your bathroom.

With regards to fittings for bathroom, there are a ton of choices to browse. However, what's the ideal decision for you? Whether you're redesigning your washroom or only searching for another tap, it tends to be difficult to tell where to begin Don't stress we Apache shower fittings are prepared to help you.

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The previously mentioned covered the various sorts of fittings for washroom that are accessible. It made sense of the various advantages of each kind of fitting and gave proposals for the best fittings for different sorts of restrooms. For more data on washroom fittings, visit our site or contact to our group we are prepared to help you as per your choice.

#fittings for bathroom

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that-yandere-life · 2 years

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How would yanderes poly Sirius, James and Remus react to reader stepping on a piece of glass in the kitchen and her foot starts to bleed?

[Warnings: Yandere Themes *Obviously*, Mentions of injuries/blood/hospitals, Worried boys.]

Waking up that morning the guys were already gone since it was their typical guy outing once a month where they went and did what they wanted, then in return you would get some alone time yourself.

Deciding after eating some breakfast to bake some cookies for everyone to enjoy when they got home you grabbed a huge ceramic bowl and the glass measuring cup for the liquids.

Setting them down on the counter you began grabbing all of the various ingredients you needed having the recipe hanging on a cork board in the kitchen.

Humming to yourself you threw one thing after another into the mix, grabbing a wooden spoon beginning to sing and slightly dance as you stirred it together.

Pulling the cookie sheets out from the cabinet you greased them with butter, plopping little perfect dough balls with the ice cream scooper, rather satisfied at your work as you placed them inside the oven to bake.

Starting to clean up your mess you went to put the bowl into the sink when you grazed the measuring cup handle sending it cascading to the floor, smashing into an array of pieces and shards.

Cursing softly to yourself you resumed your action to put the dish in your hand into the sink before trying to tiptoe around the glass to grab the broom, eagerly sweeping it up into the dustpan.

Throwing the remains of the cup in the trash you sighed knowing you would have to ask the boys to remind you to get another one the next time you were out, resuming your previous cleanup attempt.

At first you didn’t feel that anything was off, roaming around the area grabbing the cooling racks to set the cookies on for when they were done, placing wax paper on top of an empty counter.

A slight stinging in your foot should have alerted you to the fact that it wasn’t okay but instead you ignored it continuing your song that you had been humming previously.

Hearing a ruckus coming from the front door you couldn’t help but smile at the voices glad that your lovers had returned from their outing a little bit earlier than normal.

That is until you hear a loud gasp turning around seeing three sets of horrified faces confusing you until Remus demands to know what happened in there.

Looking around then down you realized that there were now bloody footprints all throughout the kitchen where you had been traveling back and forth.

Lifting your foot you see it is completely soaked on the bottom with crimson, the other only having passive traces from stepping in it, but completely unharmed otherwise.

Wincing you hobbled to the table taking a seat in the closest chair getting ready to peel it off to assess the damage starting to explain about the incident and how you thought you had cleaned it all up the best you could.

Immediately James is at your side, kneeling down to help you take the sock off in the least painful way possible, groaning when he saw that there was a piece still stuck in there meaning that it was more complicated than a mere healing spell.

Sirius was right next to him the moment that displeasure alerted him, biting his lower lip as he took his turn looking at your injury slightly wishing that he hadn’t thanks to the queasiness rising up in his stomach.

Thankfully Remus pushed him out of the way seeing the way his face paled at the sight, not wanting to have to deal with him passing out as well as you being hurt.

Questioning James asked what the best way to go about getting the shard out, hoping that Remus had more insight into the issue than he did.

Grumbling, he started talking about going to the hospital which you did not like the idea of at all, inquiring why you couldn’t just take some tweezers and yank it out.

Sighing Remus knew that you would put up a fight, but he was going to insist that you go get it checked out anyway by a professional healer, mentioning that if they were to remove it, it would cause you more pain and possibly do more damage.

Crossing your arms you were resisting the urge to pout and state how you didn’t care but you could tell by the look on his face that this wasn’t going to be up for debate.

Gently James lifted you up getting ready to take you to the living room so that the four of you could Floo to the lobby of St. Mungos, realizing that the baked goods were still in the oven, yelling back for Sirius to turn it off they were supposed to be done anyway.

Appearing in the triage area Remus started telling the nurses what had happened, pointing to you and taking the paperwork as they set you on an exam table asking you all sorts of various questions.

Trying to hide how worried they were about you, but it was apparent to you because you knew them so well, most of the time none of you had to speak to have an understanding with each other.

Absolutely losing your shit laughing however when Sirius finally entered shuffling hot cookies from one hand to the other, unable to keep them steady since they were incredibly fresh.

By the time they finished you were fully healed but would likely still be sore as if you bruised or sprained it so were told to stay off it for a few days before returning to normal activities.

Groaning as you knew that the guys were going to take full advantage of that to be at your beck and call, ready to make sure that you didn’t even get up to use the restroom without help.

Each of them having wide grins growing on their features as you were once again hoisted into the air, this time by Sirius who still had remnants of chocolate around the corners of his mouth.

The next few days were bound to be slightly exhausting for you, but all too rejuvenating to them as you rarely let them take care of you in the way you often took care of them, most of the time without even realizing it.

Getting you set up in bed with a book you had been dying to read, they all crowded around you taking up the rest of the space watching you intently.

Remus breaks the comfortable silence eventually to ask that next time something shatters in the house to ask for help, or just use magic to clean it up causing you to feel a little silly that you hadn’t just done that in the first place.

Begrudgingly you agreed, feeling as if you were being scolded like a little kid for trying to take care of the situation on your own, but understanding it came from a place of love not anything else.

Eventually all of you fell asleep one by one, until you were left staring at them with pure unadulterated love and passion for them all, glad that the night turned out this way in the end.

[Funnily (or maybe not) enough I am uniquely qualified for this prompt because I have numerous times cut my foot on glass, even having to get some surgically removed about a year ago. So I understand exactly how it would feel. I hope that you enjoy this, and that it was what you were imagining! <3]

#yandere poly marauders #yandere poly marauders x reader #yandere marauders x reader #yandere marauders #yandere james potter x reader #yandere remus lupin x reader #yandere sirius black x reader

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thevintagetee · 2 years

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Chapter Five: Chaos

Fifth Chapter of My Lethal Liability Fic

Warnings:

Mentions of drugging, ableism, blood, gore, side character death.

After taking an agonizing short shower, since you didn't want to be rude and waste their water, you combed your hands through your hair and put your shower supplies that you packed with you back in the ziplock bag it came from. A sigh escaped your lips as you took in the figure in the lightly steamed mirror in front of you. A large black shirt and some plaid pants covered your body, with some black socks to match.

You dried your hair in your towel that you had brought with you and gathered up the rest of your belongings- casting one more glance over the old styled bathroom case you had missed anything. It had white tile floors that were tinted a yellowish color- not from grime or dirt but rather from age. The tub-shower combo was also white- with a beige shower curtain that separated it from the rest of the small bathroom.

Unsurprisingly- the toilet was old as well, those odd circular ones that felt weird when you sat down on them, with a beige matt at the foot of it. There were more old photos and paintings on the old wooden walls which at some point must have been painted tan- but that was gone now, only small spots of peeling paint remained. The sink was suffering from the same type of wear as it was just a ceramic bowl with a spout- the body of it wooden yet covered with specks of old white paint. Next to the faucet lay a cup with a couple of toothbrushes in it, some half used toothpaste laid haphazardly next to it, and a rusty soap dispenser.

After cleaning up any messes you made, you exited the bathroom with a content sigh- glad that you were able to avoid having to come in contact with the group you were previously with. You glanced at the door that led to the room that they were staying at, as it was right next to the bathroom, and paused a few steps away from it- waiting until you made sure you heard nothing from the other side of it before you sneaked past it and down the stairs. Your dirty clothes were wrapped in a white plastic bag that you had brought with you and you couldn't help but wonder if Mrs. Mae would let you clean your clothes later as well. It had been a while and you were running out of clean clothes to wear anyway.

When you reached the bottom step you peaked your head into the dining room but saw no one was there. Another content sigh left your lips as you trudged over to the couch in the living room- a tired smile on your face as it too was deserted. You hummed to yourself as you put the rest of your things in your suitcase and plopped down on the couch face first- letting a relieved groan escape from you as you collided with the soft cushions. After shuffling around, you noticed a pillow and some blankets were already laid out for you, and without second thought you decided to get some sleep before dinner was announced.

~ ~ ~

A small hand shook your shoulder gently and you opened your eyes in a groan- turning to see Luda Mae smiling down at you. “Well you must've been tired.” She smiled, backing up to let you sit up and stretch. “You slept through most of clinkin’ and clankin’ in the kitchen made from me and that girly Desiree.” She chuckled as you rubbed your eyes to get rid of any remaining grogginess and looked at her- still very much half asleep. And habitually, your hands went to smooth down your hair- which never stayed in place when you slept and always decided to defy gravity when you woke.

“Hell, you even slept through me callin for everyone to come and sit down for dinner.” Luda giggled to herself once more and only then did you hear the shuffling from around the house. Footsteps from upstairs, the front and back door opening- and some unintelligible grumbling coming from further away…. probably from that old sheriff.

“I slept through helping with the rest of dinner?!” You gasped, the tight grip of slumber now leaving as you saw the dinner table slowly begin to fill up, catching the glances of the men as you did so. “Oh Mrs. I'm so sorry I didn't-” A finger was held up in front of your lips to silence you. The sudden finger being thrust in front of your face caught your attention, and you focused on the digit that was mere centimeters away from your lips- looking back up to her with wide eyes. “Now child,” Luda began with a stern tone. “You obviously needed some sleep. You helped me plenty earlier- it was the other's turn.”

She huffed, resting her hand back at her sides and gestured for you to get up to follow her to the dining table. As you did so you noticed that at some point while you were turned away talking to her Thomas seemed to slip into his seat. Your eyes trailed down to the two empty seats next to Desiree and Aleic- giving them a quick irritated glance but before they could say anything two more sets of footsteps sounded from outside the dining room and the missing couple walked in.

Zach immediately shot a harsh glare to you, one which no one missed...except for the old man in the wheelchair whose name you believed was Monty. His attention was between Lidnsey and Desiree- making the two of them obviously uncomfortable. You made your way to your seat, squeezing in between Luda and Thomas.

Suddenly Hoyt stood up, looking over the rest of the table with stern eyes before beginning to say his prayers. His religious words caused you to shuffle uncomfortably, you weren't too keen on the whole religion thing….but you figured in light of respecting the people that had been nothing but kind to you- you could at least bow your head.

As he spoke a shiver ran down your spine. The way he thanked his god for being able to meet you and this group felt off. Something was hiding behind his words and everyone at the table knew it. It didn't help when he decided to gaze at each of you individually with a smile. When his eyes settled on you, you clenched your hand around your shorts- gripping at the fabric to help calm your nerves. A fleeting spark of regret coursed through you. Perhaps Desiree and Aleic were right….but you shoved that thought to the ground immediately. He was just a creepy old man, nothing more, nothing less.

Once prayer was over, which felt like eternity to you but you knew it was only a minute at most, everyone began to eat. Once again you noticed an odd taste and assumed it was the same mixture as Luda explained before. Of course, Zach’s reaction was broadcasted to the entire table through his facial expressions while the rest just sat in silence.

“What's wrong boy?” The voice of the sheriff interrupted your thoughts and you looked to see him glaring daggers at Zach. “Don't like the cookin’?” Your eyes flickered to Zach, silently praying he wouldnt say anything stupid. “No sir.” You tensed at his response- apparently, your prayers weren’t heard.

“Well then if that's the case why don't you either make something yourself or get out.” The man snapped, standing up and pointing at the door for effect. You blinked at the sheriff in surprise, he sure had a short fuse. You opened your mouth to try and diffuse the situation but Lidnsey spoke instead. “My apologies sir, don't listen to what he’s saying. He doesn't know what he’s talking about.” Zach’s head snapped in Lindsey's direction. “I for one think this tastes lovely.” She paused- taking a spoonful of the food to prove her point, but not doing well to hide her distaste for the flavor of it.

Her response seemed to satisfy the sheriff as he sat back down with a lopsided grin- clearing finding amusement in Lindsey’s reaction. With a sigh you began to relax when you saw Aleic obviously kick Zach under the table. An uncomfortable silence blanketed the table once again- more off-putting than before thanks to Zach- and you just tried your best to ignore it… bouncing your leg to keep you occupied.

A bit more time passed and you were almost finished with your dinner, silently pleading to whatever god listened that the rest of dinner would go by smoothly. It wasn't until when you were almost finished did you realize that your eyes were growing droopy again and suddenly the warm comfy couch seemed to be calling your name once more. Why were you so tired? You had just woken up from a nice nap after all… Perhaps you needed more sleep than you thought.

Before you could linger on those thoughts any further, Zach opened his mouth once more. “So what's with the mask, big guy?” Your head shot up in disbelief, just in time to see Thomas’ eyes narrow and his shoulders tightenen. Obviously, you weren't the only one surprised as Desiree’s mouth fell open.

“Why do you have to wear that while eating? Are you that messed up under the mask or something?”

“Zach!”

Both you, Aleic, and Desiree spat at once while Lidnsey sat quietly. With a quick nervous glance around the table, your throat tightened when you saw the rest of the family glaring at him- gripping their utensils a bit too tightly for your comfort. “What?” The blonde asked, raising his arms up like he did nothing wrong. “It's a question...you can't tell me you guys aren’t wondering either!” He paused to look at his companions before continuing. “Why do you let him walk around like that? Don't the other people in this town think it's weird?” He directed his questions now at the family. As he persisted you could only stare at him with a gaping mouth. What possessed him to be so rude? “It makes him look retar-”

“That's enough.” You growled- pushing out of your seat so roughly that your chair fell backwards and the glasses on the table rattled at the suddenness of your movement. You made your way to Zach and he stood up in response-challenging you to do anything, and fueling your anger. Thomas only took a few seconds to watch before he went to push himself out of his seat to try and stop the situation before it happened. Before you could get to Zach, however, Aleic pulled him back roughly by his arm so he couldn't walk further in your direction. You opened your mouth to shoot an insult at the blonde but Aleic beat you to it- dragging Zach out of the dining room chastising him in hushed tones.

Though your anger was immense and you struggled to keep yourself from going after them, you couldn't help but notice as the two of them seemed to be wobbling in place. You chucked it up to Zach struggling under Aleic’s iron grip and you shook your head. Whatever was happening between the two right now didn't matter. What mattered right now was apologizing to the family. As you ran your hand through your hair to calm yourself down you returned your attention to the people sitting at the table.

For a few moments you didn't know what to say- you just stared into the eyes of Thomas hoping that somehow he could read your mind and therefore hear your unsaid apologies that piled up on top of one another like overfilled wasteyards. Though, after a few seconds you knew you were getting nowhere and wasted no time mustering up an apology for the stranger that you barely knew. “I'm sorry he…I don't know why he…I can’t-” The sound of Lidnsey roughly pushing out from her seat cut you off. You watched as she walked over to where Aleic and Zach were arguing and talked to him in a hushed tone with gritted teeth.

Your eyes caught that of Desiree’s, and you both stared at each other for what felt like hours before you could only look helplessly back to the family. You didn’t know what to say, if you could even say anything at all. “If you want us to leave I’ll be more than happy to pack my stuff and-”

“Its alright dear.” Luda cut you off, and though you were sure she meant to sound sweet there was venom hidden behind her words. So much so, you feared that if you got too close it would uncoil and latch onto you at the smallest of movements…poisoning you before working its way towards the others. Her eyes held a similar story, it felt- though not pointed towards you- that she could kill anyone with the daggers she hid behind her gaze. A mothers rage, you reminded yourself. This was her son. You suppressed a shiver that attempted to run along your spine. A mothers rage was by far the most terrifying…and lucky you…you came with just the right group to prod the bear.

“It's a common reaction to people like us.” She forced a chuckle but it only caused you further discomfort. There was something lurking behind her words. She was angry, that was for sure…but she seemed oddly calm about the whole situation. Too calm for your liking. Nevertheless, you pushed aside your gut feeling and responded. “No ma’am. It's not. I swear when I met them they were the nicest people...I could have never guessed that they were so….” The word got caught in your throat, like you didn't want to admit it. That these were the people you had chose to be with. Instead, you chose a lighter word. “...insensitive.”

“Insensitive?” The sheriff- Hoyt- snapped, pushing up from his seat so harshly it shook the whole table and caused you to fumble backwards. It looked like he was going to say something else, but the sudden movement caused a sharp pain that stabbed in between your eyes. You winced, placing a hand up to the area and shutting your eyes as if that would help with the discomfort. “Y/n... is everything alright?” Luda spoke, though her voice seemed distant and fuzzy, echoing around in your brain as it bounced from one side of your skull to the other. You groaned in response, shutting your eyes harder as you tried to focus. Was this some sort of heat related illness? No...it couldn't be. Sure you were dehydrated but it shouldn't be so delayed.

Hoyt was saying something but you couldn't make it out, and suddenly your hands and legs began to tingle, growing numb and causing you to lose strength momentarily- and suddenly your knees buckled from underneath you. Someone was quick to catch you and hold you up. Luda was speaking again, though you barely could hear her. Her words were no longer comprehensible as it sounded like some sort of distant fuzzy tv audio.“What the hell…” You muttered- finally opening your eyes and watched as your vision shook and pulsated without you moving. The sight made you nauseous, and you clenched your eyes shut once again to try and stop yourself from puking, placing a hand over your eyes for extra umph.

Suddenly there was a thud from upstairs, followed by a few others. “Wha-” You croaked, blinking in confusion as you were unable to finish any thoughts you started. On shaky legs, you went to investigate what was the cause of the sounds but immediately your world began to spin and you absentmindedly grabbed on to the nearest thing you could for support- which so happened to be Thomas’ arm. Was Thomas standing now? When did he get up? “Mrs.Mae?” You muttered. “I don't….” Another wave of fatigue crashed over you. “I think….someone fell…” The others just stared, your words being so slurred together they could no longer understand you as you couldn't them.

If you could, you would hear Luda fretting about how much she poured in your glass.

It felt as if the hand that was stabilizing you, which you were able to make out as Thomas due to its size, tried to gently push you to sit down- but in a fit of determination you took another step to try and figure out what that thud sound was caused by. You confidently took one step, but much to your dismay- you were falling face first to the floor instead and you were too out of it to care. The last thing you remember is being caught midair, hearing Luda order Thomas to take you to her room and then being carried by strong arms up the stairs before you blacked out completely.

~ ~ ~

A chainsaw revving nearby pulled you out of the darkness- causing you to sit up in panic as your fight or flight instincts took control. You went to stand up, hoping to identify where that sound was coming from and if it was any danger to you, but instead you yelped as a harsh throbbing in your head surfaced from the sudden movement and you fell back to the floor on weak legs. Immediately your vision blurred- causing your body to pump out more adrenaline in response to the sudden loss of a sense.

Thinking quickly, your hands searched the wooden floor- fumbling around like a person who lost their glasses as you desperately tried to find something that could help prop yourself up. You blinked your eyes rapidly, hoping that it would help you focus but no matter what you did you couldn't combat the darkness that was crawling into the edges of your vision. Just as you were slipping back into unconsciousness a terrifying scream cut through the air- causing you to snap back to reality.

It was a man’s- the kind of a scream someone had when it was their last try. Their last hope for some sort of savior to burst in and get them. It was gut wrenching, and you could have sworn that it was Zach before some sort of gurgling and muffled chainsaw sounds followed. Wherever that sound was coming from…it was definitely a threat. You would have loved if that sound fueled you to get up and move, but instead it caused you to cover your ears in an attempt to block you from hearing the sounds that you could only link to gore. A panic set in and you began to hyperventilate. What was happening? Where were you? It was so dark you could barely make anything out.

Multiple pairs of footsteps and more shouting pulled you from your thought process and you began to cry. You heard another voice yelling something- it was doused in a heavy country accent, and you could hear as the front door practically splintered from the force that it was opened by. The screaming came from outside now, and though your mind screamed at you to get up and run- you could only shake as you lowered your head to your chest- your hands still covering your ears as you huddled into a ball.

As if you were blessed by some sort of god, the distant sounds all got muffled as darkness overtook your vision and you were thrown into the void once more, your forehead colliding with the wooden floor in a harsh thud as you fell.

It felt like only a short few moments had passed before banging on the door caused you to stir once more. You glanced around the poorly lit room, ignoring the pain pouring from your head, but frowned as your eyes were still refusing to focus. So, instead- you sat there, not understanding what was happening or why you were here. Another thud on the door caused you to jump and scramble back on the wall behind you, the distant sound of gunshots and high pitched screaming from outside seemed to bring back the memories you had just made moments prior.

Looking to the door in fear, you scrambled to get to your feet to block it-not wanting to have to meet anyone that had anything with the outside world. The thuds kept on getting louder and when you couldn't find anything to block the door with you quickly decided to hide behind the bed- curling into a ball on the floor with your back still pressed against the wall- tears beginning to stain your cheeks as you braced yourself for what was about to happen.

A final kick to the door sent it flying inwards- the sound was more than enough to cause you to scream in terror- immediately giving away your hiding spot. You dug your nails into the back of your neck so harshly that your knuckles began to whiten and you could have sworn you felt a warm liquid trickling down from the little intrusions. “Leave me alone!” You sobbed- pressing up to the wall as much as you could, shaking your head and screaming louder as frantic footsteps raced towards you.

Suddenly, your head was pulled back by your hair and a large hand was covering your mouth. You went to scream once more but stopped as you realized it was Aleic, and you watched as Desiree shut the door quickly. An immobilizing horror washed over you as the two of them sported wounds all over their body both deep and shallow. And what was worse? They were drenched in blood. Was it their own? Someone else's? You didn't want to know. Your eyes flickered down to the hand that was covering your mouth and you flinched as it too was covered in the dark red substance- effectively adding you to the quite literal bloodbath.

“Shut up.” Aleic growled- looking around tensely before back down to you. Something was different about him, and you had a feeling that even though you had barely known the man…he was not the same as before. He had seen things. Things that would change him forever. His eyes were like that of a caged animal, terrified but ready to strike at any invitation of possible escape. Those same eyes sported a newfound suspicion..and you realized in terror that it was aimed towards you.

You, who sat there perfectly unharmed- except from the nail wounds that you had just dug into your own neck. “Where the fuck were you?” He hissed, grabbing your hair tighter and moving his hand to roughly grasp your neck- a gasp of surprise left you in response as you could no longer breathe. It was so sudden, the loss of airflow- you could only stare up at him in panic. That apparently wasn't what he wanted.

He pulled you up to your feet by your hair and threw you against the wall- never once losing his grip around your neck. Whatever air you had left was knocked out of you when your back collided with the harsh wood- and suddenly it was like a switch. You couldn't breathe. You were going to die. And suddenly your fingernails, now stained from your own blood, began tearing at whatever they could to free you…but unfortunately the man wouldn't budge. From what he went through tonight, you were nothing. He repeated his question, throwing you against the wall once more but you couldn't respond. Your vision was darkening and you were losing energy.

“Aleic!” You heard Desiree from behind him before he let go of you- causing you to drop down to the floor, gasping for air as you gripped at your neck- fingers shaking uncontrollably as you realized now that you almost died. You pulled them back to see them drenched in blood. Someone else’s blood. If you were in the right mind, you would’ve gagged. “What the hell is wrong with you?” She spat at him before going up to see if you were ok- wincing at the bruises that were already forming on the tender skin underneath the red that stained it.

“Where were you?! I thought he killed you...” She looked at you as Aleic began to move things in front of the door- mumbling something about someone never going think that they went back here. You looked past the girl and towards him. What did he mean? She shook you to get your attention. “He?” You croaked out- moving your now bloodied hand to hold your throbbing head. “What do you mean? Who is ‘he’?”

“What? What does she mean?!” Aleic spat- reciting your own words as he turned to look at you. “While you were god knows where, we were being hunted out there like fucking animals!” His attention turned back to his girlfriend. “Desiree this is a trap- I told you that they were working with them! We need to-”

“Aleic shut up! You’re being too damn loud! He’ll hear us!”

“That doesn't matter! I know he already heard them scream! It's only a matter of time! We need to get out of here!”

“We can’t just leave! We don't know where the rest of the family is!”

You sat there looking between the two of them completely lost, unsure of what to say and quite frankly- you were sure the moment you opened your mouth a cry would come out instead. The distant sound of another gunshot and some shouting caused you all to jump and the pair lowered themselves from the view of the window to avoid being seen. “Aleic I think they were given something. They can't even stand properly.” She paused. “I think they did something to all of our drinks. It’s just like how we could barely move around when we first woke up...but..” She placed a hand on your chin to have you look up at her. You gave her a questioning glance, not understanding that she was looking at your dilated pupils.

“...they drank the most out of all of us.” She finished- seemingly content that your eyes proved her right. “Alright- let's go with that. They were drugged like us. It doesn’t explain why they were locked away in a room. They could’ve left!” He was only met with silence on her part as she watched you place a hand to your head…feeling drowsy once more . “Aleic we need to help them.”

“No!”

“No?!”

“No. I say we leave them here- don't you think it's weird that they happened to cross our path a day before our car broke down? Then miraculously clicked with these freaks?!” He stopped her before she could say anything. “Something isn't right and I'm not risking our lives for someone we barely know.” His expression turned soft and he went to grab Desiree by the shoulders, lifting her back up to her feet so she could look into his eyes. “We lost Zach and that shouting sounded Lidnsey….I….I can't lose you too.”

Desiree only looked at him for a moment, debating something over in her mind before he was shoved back by her. The shove was light but he tripped, causing him to stumble backwards into the dresser up against the closed door. The sound of him colliding with the furniture caused everyone to tense, and you all sat there waiting for a few more moments to listen for any sounds of movement before continuing.

“I can't leave someone like this- it's not right. There are killers out there and you suggest leaving them behind?! They could die here Aleic! And what? You’d let this happen over mere speculation? What the hell is wrong with you?” Desiree’s voice seemed more panicked now, the sound they were making was causing her, and everyone else in the room, to grow jittery.

You let out a pained grunt as Desiree began to lift you up roughly - having your right arm draped across her shoulder for support as she gripped your waist. “Desiree…” Aleic whispered. “Do you even hear yourself?” He choked out, placing a shaking hand on his forehead as he looked at her in disbelief. At this point the man was entirely leaning against the door, needing some form of support for his quivering legs.

“Yes, I do Aleic. I'm not letting anyone die when I could've been here to prevent it. We have to all get out of here and call the police.” She was only met with silence from the man and she sighed before looking at you. You were completely out of it at this point, their words seeming to bounce around in your brain as you struggled to maintain consciousness. Luckily, Desiree shook you slightly everytime it looked like you were about to doze off.

“Fine then. How are we going to get out of here? Do you even see them? We will have to drag them around… Do you know how much that will slow us down? Dez?! It's best to just lea-” Heavy footsteps sounded from outside the door, and before anyone could react the rev of a chainsaw sounded from behind him- you stood there in horror as the metal blade pierced through the door. Aleic only had time to turn his head before the metal pierced his back and worked its way through his chest.

The sight was unreal. The man who was formerly able to walk and talk was now shaking violently around the invasive metal. Blood, guts, and presumably flesh splattered all across you and Desiree. She screamed but you could only stare in horror- the imagery in front of you mesmerizing you like it was some sort of sick ballet…and you couldn't look away in fear of missing what the dancer did next.

Desiree saw your paleing face and moved to turn you so you were safely out of the way from the onslaught of matter now flying towards you. His pained screams only now registered in your mind- the only thing you were able to make out now- but the way his body was shaking left a memory imprinted in your mind forevermore- you were already able to see him perfectly when you closed your eyes.

You could only stand there, frozen in horror as you practically heard the life being sucked from Aleic. Only a few more seconds passed before you had heard silence- and immediately you knew you needed to run. Yet though your brain screamed at you to bolt, your feet stayed glued to the floor- and you began to cry when you realized that you were not moving. No, you couldn’t move.

#thomas hewitt x you #slasher fandom #texas chainsaw massacre #texas chainsaw the beginning #thomas hewitt #slashers #thomas hewitt x reader #thomas hewitt x y/n #slasher x y/n #y/n fanfic #slasher fic #second person pov

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justfangirlthingies · 3 years

Text

Intruders (Helmut Zemo)

This is my first ever finished fic for our beloved Zemo, who definitely deserves to have his sword in the mcu.

I've had this scenario in my head for a while now and usually I find it hard to properly write out my thoughts to text. I honestly have no idea what's gotten into me that allowed me to write my thoughts into a fic, but whatever it is, it can come and bless me with its presence more often

Summary: You were planning on having a relaxing evening when a group of "intruders" turned your plans around

Warnings: I think there's one or more curse words, a sword (but nothing dangerous happens with it) if you think there's anything that I missed and/or should be added as a warning here please let me know

Word count: 2137 words

Transaltion: If you are familiar with Zemo fics you probably know what "draga" means. In case you don't know draga = dear/beloved

You were relaxing in the bathtub, eyes closed, as the warm water embraced you. You dipped the back of your head into the water in order to get all your hair wet properly, a soft sigh escaping your lips. It was peaceful and quiet, until you heard something that sounded suspiciously like the front door opening and closing that is. Immediately, you sat up in the water, which started to slosh from the sudden movement, and pulled your knees closer to your body as you listened attentively. Maybe you just imagined the noise. You were probably just being paranoid. Living alone in a house as big as this just seemed to have taken it's toll on you. What you had not expected however, was to hear more noises. Oh you definitely weren't imagining this. Loud footsteps accompanied by voices could be heard throughout your home.

In distress, you quietly jumped out of the bathtub, your body and hair still dripping with water as you stepped foot on the towel on the floor. Well you certainly wouldn't be able to defend yourself wearing only a towel. You stayed alert while you let your gaze wander through the room swiftly, in order to find something to wear and also something to defend yourself. That's when you spotted it. His bathrobe.

You never bothered to take it off of it's hanger. Doing so, would have made the situation you lived in come crashing down on you and you couldn't have that, now could you? Besides, it still contained traces of his intriguing smell, you'd never find the willpower to discard something that carries his smell still.

Without giving it much thought, you grabbed the robe and put it on, quickly tying it up as you continued to scavenge the room for some kind of weapon or defense. After coming to the conclusion that there was nothing of use for you in this room you sighed silently. Panic settled in your system as you felt your heartbeat and breathing speed up. You tried desperately to calm yourself, your hand wandering to a little ceramic bowl that usually held soap in it. This would have to do.

Only when you reached out for the handle of the bathroom door, you remembered. The sword! There was a sword just conveniently hanging on one of the walls in the hallway. He had shown you how to use it. You probably forgot half of what he had taught you back then, but it would have to do to save your life. That's why he taught you in the first place, to defend yourself.

The bowl made no sound when you put it down, seeing as you placed it on a piece of fabric, in order to avoid making noise. Carefully, you opened the door and tiptoed your way out into the hallway. As soon as you had stepped foot onto the ground of the corridor, the voices grew clearer, but you needed to focus on your current goal, which was to go and get the sword hanging on the wall and not to listen to the intruders. So, that's exactly what you did.

Getting the sword off the wall turned out to be more challenging than you anticipated, as it was quite heavy. A lot heavier than what you remembered it to be. After struggling with it for a good minute or two ,you finally managed to lift it off the wall and the weight of the full sword, without it being supported on the wall anymore, nearly caused you to drop it, seeing as you only held it with one hand. The odds seemed to be in your favour, for you caught the weapon mid-air and while it still made contact with the ground, the carpet covering the floor managed to absorb the sound of the sword clinking against the floor.

You took a deep breath and pushed the big and wide sleeves of the robe up a bit, to keep them from disturbing you. The voices you had been hearing didn't seem to stray far from the living room and kitchen area. Putting on a straight and brave face, you exhaled deeply and lifted the sword like you had been taught, you also tried to keep the stance you were supposed to have as you made your way down the hall.

You came to a halt right around the corner to the kitchen and living room area, where you attempted to calm your breathing and heartbeat once again. "Now what?" you thought. Should you walk into the room and confront them? Or should you pull the attention to yourself from here right away?

You decided on the first option, this way you could still take a few minutes to calm yourself down and- CRASH!

"Oh no. Oh no this is bad. Shit! What do I do now?" You cursed under your breath as you looked at the object you had accidentally run over. Someone had placed a bag, which you accidentally shoved with your foot because you didn't know it was there, right next to a lamp. It is save to say, that said lamp now laid before your feet in shards and the placement of the bag also wasn't your doing. In fact, the bag didn't even belong to you.

"I thought you said this is your place and no one lives here" a man's voice growled. "Show yourself!" shouted another voice in your direction. You contemplated running away and hiding for a moment, but there was no backing out now. So, you gathered all your might and confidence together and tried to keep your voice steady you spoke "Who are you and what are you doing in my home? I will ask you to leave only this once" Your demand came out more shaky than you would have liked, but it would have to do "And-and I'm armed" You added, realizing you had forgotten to mention it previously.

What you were not aware of was that he stat around the corner with the two men and when your voice reached the Baron's ears, his eyes widened, though he promptly covered up his surprised expression from the others. "You knew about this didn't you?!" Sam jumped up from his seat "This was your plan all along!" "I assure you Samuel, I was not aware anyone was here" Zemo retorted quickly. "What a load of crap!" Samuel shouted back.

You however, didn't get a chance to take notice of the conversation the two were having because you noticed someone else approaching you. You quickly took your stance to fight for your life, the sleeves of the oversized bathrobe rolling back down your arms and covering your hands, which were placed on the sword's handle, as you did so. As soon as you caught size of the man approaching you, you noticed a feature he had. An arm made of metal. This was going to be harder than you thought. You swung your sword at the man who caught the blade mid-swing, with ease in his metal hand. "I'm very sorry for intruding. We were not aware that someone lives here." "Well, I obviously live here" you grumbled.

You kept struggling against him even after he had grabbed your arm and rendered your attacks useless. Even when he had started walking you back around the corner, you still keep the sword tight in your grip, ready to put up a fight again as soon as danger was near.

What you didn't expect though, was to see him. Baron Helmut Zemo. You dropped the sword as soon as you saw him, it landed on the tiled floor making a loud reverberating noise, that immediately caught his attention. "Helmut" you mumbled, not believing your own eyes as they began to water.

As soon as the sword fell, all of Zemo's attention was on you. The way you stood in a poise and secure stance, much like the one he showed you. The sword which he remembered to be decorating the hallway lying before your feet. Your (h/c) hair still wet from what he presumed must have been a bath. He didn't fail to notice his robe, which even though it was tied tightly and securely around your waist, still seemed to hang loosely around your body. Your hands were covered by the sleeves of his robe, yet he didn't miss the way something briefly reflected the light of the room from underneath one of the sleeves. So, you still wore the ring he had given to you. Hearing your voice sounded like music to his ears. Another thing he noticed, was that it seemed like you didn't age a day. Were you possibly taken by the blip?

Helmut Zemo could read you like a book, the expression on your face however, was the only thing that was hard for him to read right now. There were so many different emotions covering your features, but as soon as he took notice of your beautiful pools of (e/c) swimming with tears, he jumped up from his seat, ready to take you into his arms and just hold you tightly and securely to his body. "(Y/n)" he whispered back to you.

Sam Wilson queered the Baron's pitch, by holding him back from crossing the room to reach you. You took notice of what Zemo was trying to do. It was something you also wanted. Something you needed right now. It seemed you were in luck once again because the man with the metal arm had loosened his hold on your arm and it was easy for you to slip from his grip.

Without giving it another thought, you sprinted across the room and ran right into Helmut's arms, not caring about the man who was holding him back. You held each other tightly, enjoying his warmth and familiarity. Sadly, the bliss you were experiencing was suddenly cut short by the man with the metal arm.

"Let me go!" You struggled against the man's arm again. "James let go of them." Zemo demanded calmly. "Do you even know who that is you're throwing your arms around here?!" The guy asked you, his voice sounded more like a growl, which caused you to thrash around more. "Of course I know who that is!" you snarled back at him in irritation. "I think I can recognize my husband myself, thank you very much. Now let me go!" you sassed. The statement had caught the man named James off guard and he loosened his grip on you again, the other man doing the same with Zemo.

You had gotten married shortly before the Baron blew up the UN. It was the only way for him to come to terms with his past and while you were not happy with the decision he made, you understood why he did what he did. That doesn't mean you agreed with his ways of doing this. God knows you had tried to talk him out of it many times after you found out about his plans. You didn't even know what you were looking at when you saw the plans and even though Zemo knew you were not aware of his plan, even after looking at some of the blueprints, he wanted to be honest with you. So, he told you everything he had planned. There was no stopping him from at least trying and while you used to give yourself the fault for not stopping him, which would have been impossible anyways, you had come to terms with it over the years.

"Draga" your husband exhaled as he wrapped his arms around you again. His embrace was something you had missed for a long time, a smile formed onto your lips as you hugged him back and nestled your face in his neck. "I missed you Helmut." your voice was muffled by his shirt and skin. "I missed you too" Zemo immediately returned your statement, his lips resting on the top of your head as he inhaled your scent, that he loved and missed so much. "You smell nice" he murmured against your head making you giggle.

"You do know you'll have some explaining to do about all of...well, this" you pulled away a bit, looking at him as you gestured to him and the other two people in the room, who just watched this whole situation unfold in complete and utter bewilderment.

"I know, I know, but for now let us enjoy the moment just a little longer" he smiled at you as he pulled you closer again, before leaning forward a bit to whisper in your ear "My bathrobe suits you well dear" You lightly hit his shoulder for that statement and because you could practically hear the very evident smirk adorning his face.

Taglist: @ateez-star @littlemissnoname13 @gwlvr @handmaiden-of-mischief

#luna writes #daniel brühl #daniel bruhl #zemo #helmut zemo #baron zemo #marvel imagines #zemo x reader #baron zemo fic #baron zemo x reader #baron helmut zemo #helmut zemo x reader #helmut zemo imagine #tfatws #luna feeds her daniel brühl obsession #mcu imagine #mcu #mcu zemo #baron helmut zemo x reader

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kaimelia · 3 years

Text

fix you

a/n: hi! I received an ask a while ago asking if I wanted amelia to be pregnant in s18, and this is how I would want it to play out if she was!

also, i may not be posting for a little. my grandmother passed away yesterday, so life’s a little rough right now :( this was pre-written

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Two lines.

Two lines staring back at her, two lines that were aggressively red, two lines that she had been dreading seeing.

She'd ignored the symptoms for the longest time. Her late cycle was blamed on stress, weight gain due to the lack of care for herself, nausea stemming from how anxious she constantly felt.

It wasn't until Meredith noticed how Scout had been acting oddly and mentioned how clingy Bailey had gotten while she was pregnant with Ellis, as Scout had just finished crying after Amelia put him in his crib and put him back on her hip to calm him.

She snuck two pregnancy tests into their grocery run the next day, and maybe Meredith had seen it, but she knew not to say anything.

And now, she was on the floor of the bathroom, waiting for the results of the second stick to confirm her fear. That she was pregnant.

Having a second child had previously been hypothetical, and even the thought of it caused Amelia to feel ill. Now, she wasn't sure if she was about to puke because of the baby inside of her or because she knew about the baby inside of her.

And then, Meredith was behind her, running a hand up and down Amelia's back as Amelia heaved the little food she had forced herself to eat that morning despite how terrible she felt. "Amelia," Meredith whispered, sitting down beside her sister after she finished throwing up, "hey, you're okay." Amelia noticed how the other woman had started using her 'Mom' voice, the same one she used to comfort Ellis after she scraped her knee on the playground. She frowned. "How far along?"

"I don't know, maybe six weeks? I've only missed one period," she muttered, gripping the side of the ceramic bowl. "I can't do this, Mer; I can't bring another kid into this world." Meredith placed her hand on Amelia's shoulder and squeezed it gently.

"And you don't have to. You have options, Amelia; you're early enough that if you don't want to have this baby, it's as easy as going to a clinic and taking a pill." The neurosurgeon reached up, flushing the toilet and watching as the water swirled around. "You're hesitant."

"Link wants another kid," she muttered, staring at the water as it calmed in the bowl.

"Link hasn't been here except to pick up Scout, Amelia. You should tell him, but what he wants shouldn't dictate the decision you make."

"He wants another kid, and I don't know if he'll still love me if I don't want that, too. But I can't do it, Mer; I can't have another baby without losing myself, without compromising my sobriety or ruining everything I have; I can't do it." She leaned back against the cool ceramic of the bathtub, sighing heavily. "I have to tell him."

"You do. But, take some time to process it yourself, first. Go get some good sleep and think things through, make sure that you're completely sure of what you want, think through what you're going to tell him." The brunette nodded as her sister spoke, pushing herself off of the bathroom floor and wobbling slightly as she stood. "Maybe get some food in your body. You look like you're going to pass out." Amelia wrapped her arms over her stomach tightly. "Can I make you something?"

------------------------

"Hey, can you come inside for a minute?" Amelia muttered, pointing towards the living room behind her. "I need to talk to you." Link watched her with wide eyes, entering the house and dropping Scout's bag on the floor of the entryway, placing Scout in the pack-n-play in the room.

"What's going on?" Link asked, hesitantly sitting down on the couch across from her.

"I'm pregnant." He quickly flashed a toothy grin before shaking it away, matching the expression on her face. "And, I'm telling you because you have a right to know, but I'm not going to keep the baby."

"Do I not get a say in this?"

"It's my body. This baby would be inside of me for the next eight and a half months, and then I would be breastfeeding and recovering for god knows how long. Link," Amelia leaned forward, clasping her hands together, "I'm doing everything I can to stay sober and be a mother for Scout right now. And I'm telling you that I cannot continue to do that if I keep this baby." He pursed his lips and stared past her, nodding his head slowly as he processed and thought. Amelia watched his face as if she could see wheels turning inside of his brain. He ran a hand through his hair.

"When's the appointment?"

"A week from tomorrow," she muttered, pulling her sleeves down to cover her hands.

"Do you want me there? I can, I can drive you if you want me to hold your hand, or if you just need me to take Scout," he blinked quickly, finally meeting her eyes. "What can I do?"

"You're not upset with me?" Her eyes watered as Link moved to sit closer to her on the couch, placing his hand on her knee, his thumb rubbing soft patterns in comfort.

"No, of course not. I didn't understand why before; I thought you were just uncertain about it, but I don't want you to risk yourself or your health to have another baby, Amelia. So, so if getting an abortion is what you need to do, I'm on board." She brought her hand up to her mouth, biting at a hangnail on her finger as a tear fell from her eyes. "Why did you think I would be upset with you?"

"Things haven't been normal between us for months, and you want another kid so badly; I thought that you wouldn't love me if I didn't keep the baby," she whispered, tears falling freely from her eyes as she spoke. Link reached up and brought her hand away from her mouth, wiping her cheeks with his sleeve and holding her hand in his.

"Is it okay if I hug you?" He paused, waiting until she nodded to wrap his arms around her tightly, her head settling on his chest with a content sigh escaping his mouth. "Amelia, I love you no matter what; I don't need another baby to know that I love you and want to be with you," he kissed the top of her head. "I'm here. I will always be here."

------------------------

"Okay, heating pad, blanket, and that disgusting ice cream you love," Link whispered, handing her a carton and a spoon. Amelia smiled at him from the couch and took the lid off of the ice cream, digging her spoon in and scooping a large amount into her mouth, her eyes rolling back in enjoyment.

"Mm," she moaned, "this is the best thing ever." He shook his head in amusement.

"Can I get you anything else?"

"Sit with me?" He nodded, kicking off his shoes and sitting on the couch, gently pulling her towards him. She cringed at his touch.

"Still cramping?"

"Crampy and crappy," she muttered, spooning more ice cream into her mouth. "But sober and alive. And, I'm grateful for that."

"So am I," he whispered, placing his head on her shoulder and leaning it against her head. "Thank you for telling me why you didn't want another kid. And, I'm sorry for making you think I would be upset with you." Amelia sniffled and laid her head back.

"Thank you for being here, for putting everything aside."

"Hey, don't cry," Link laughed softly, bringing his arm around to wipe her eyes.

"My body's still trying to get rid of the hormones," she muttered, blinking away tears in her eyes that were wiped away by Link as soon as they fell down her face. "You're really comforting, even when you're mad at me."

"I'm not mad at you; I just think that we got so caught up in our lives that we forgot to be us. I forgot to check-in, and I'm pissed as hell at myself for doing that." He wiped away more tears from her eyes.

"Can we have this conversation sometime when my body isn't overwhelmed with hormones?" Link nodded and laughed gently, kissing the side of her head and adjusting his body so that she could lean back. "I'm not-I'm not just magically better now; I still need to work things through, and I need you to know that."

"I know. And whatever I can do, whether it's driving you to meetings or giving you space, just tell me. I love you, Amelia, and I want to work through this."

"I love you, too," she responded softly, shifting to lay against his body.

"Get some rest," he whispered, pulling a blanket over her body. "I'll be right here when you wake up."

#amelink #amelia shepherd #atticus lincoln #amelia x link #amelink fanfiction #grey's anatomy #amelink fanfic #greys abc #greys fanfic #scout lincoln #meredith grey #my fics

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fortheloveoffanfic · 3 years

Text

Behind Closed Doors

Keanu Reeves x OFC (Emma Mathers) (A/n- yes the title was inspired by Taylor Swift's Illicit Affairs)

Masterlist Behind Closed Doors Masterlist

Warnings- Angst

Clandestine Meeting

“I miss you.”

Emma looked up from the text, taken aback. Her doe eyes were wide and the words which might have previously served to put a small smile on her face simply had her pulling half of her lower lip between her teeth. Stiffening her stance, her mind went rigid and though the keypad was opened and awaiting her reply, Emma didn’t quite know what she should say. So, instead, she glanced up, trying to keep her cool as she looked across the room, meeting his gaze from where he sat at the breakfast bar, phone in hand and morning paper discarded near his half finished bowl of cereal.

Keanu’s whiskey orbs stared back at her, practically willing her to start typing a response, to hopefully admit that she felt the same. It had been almost a week since Miranda’s return, and since then, Emma had gone back to avoiding Keanu like the plague. Even being in the same room with him was too much, though, considering that over seeing the twins’ breakfast was part of her job, mornings were proving to be hardest, and by all means the only time they actually spent together. “Everything okay Em?” Using his free hand, Keanu shifted his spoon around in his ceramic bowl, acting so nonchalant that it hurt to watch. Whoever said he wasn’t a good actor had to have been a good liar.

“Yeah,” sucking in a sharp breath, she nodded stiffly, giving the text, which he’d seen her read, one final glance before locking the phone and setting it down on the granite counter. Without further ado, she carried on, getting orange juice for Matt and then cleaning up a spill Poppy had made while trying to pour more milk into her sugary, colorful cereal. “Let me help you with that,” she mumbled sweetly, hurrying over to collect the roll of paper towels and subsequently tearing off a couple blocks to sap up the fallen milk.

Still on the counter, her phone chirped again, and when she was finally finished, Emma read yet another text from Keanu, that time through the notifications, “Can I see you tonight?”

Already exasperated, Emma rolled her eyes, clenching her jaw as she hastily snatched up the cell. She hated that he was just sitting there, acting like he wasn’t engaged, trying to reel her back in despite the consequences. She hated that she actually wanted to see him anyway, even more. But what Emma hated the most was knowing that no matter what, she was already Keanu’s closeted secret. “You’re seeing me right now,” she angrily tapped the little blue send button, tossing the phone back to the cool surface, only for him to respond almost instantaneously.

“You know what I mean……” Was his reply, and when Emma took the chance at sneaking a glance at him, Emma could see that Keanu’s eyes had softened, silently pleading with her to give in. In that moment, she could slowly start to feel her resolve wavering; everything she’d worked so had to build up over the past five days or so diminished by just one look. Suddenly, she felt strange chill run through her, not as a consequence of the environment, it was actually quite warm that morning. It was actually from the memory that arose upon reminiscing on the last time she’d been alone with Keanu. That day when Miranda had come back, the way he’d touched her while they laid in bed, how his smell, as predicted, had stained her sheets and finally, how he’d come into her room that night, caressing her cheek and kissing her forehead as if he cared. Emma knew that she shouldn’t have been falling for it; a relationship with Keanu was fruitless, he couldn’t offer her anything but private pleasures and then insurmountable hurt. Still, she wanted it, she wanted him.

Clutching the phone tightly, Emma quickly tried to blink away burning tears, staring at the words on the bright screen. “I’m sorry,” another one came in, followed up with, “Please, I promise we can talk about this.”

“There’s nothing to talk about.” Emma’s fingers worked quickly, and it hurt her to type those words while knowing that there was so much she wanted to say.

Again, before she could set it down, Keanu sent, “Don’t say that. I don’t want to end things this way. Just let me fix this.”

“How?” Emma was about to hit send again, when, in a flurry of floral silk, Miranda sauntered into the room, immediately going to wrap her arms around Keanu’s broad shoulders. He stiffened visibly, hurriedly dropping his phone face down, and Emma was left to silently watch the scene unfold, taking note of the way Miranda met her eyes briefly before laying a lingering kiss to his cheek.

“Good morning darling,” she sung near his ear, unable to bear anymore of it, Emma swallowed her hurt and get back to tidying the kitchen and tending to the children. Though, that didn’t quite stop her from listening, “I can’t believe you left me in bed, all alone.”

Chuckling softly, Keanu took a minute before coming up with a response, “You know I like to get an early start. Did you sleep well?”

“Just fine,” Miranda hummed, sashaying over to the refrigerator and scanning its contents until she spotted the overly expensive, extremely exotic, organic creamer that she usually took with her coffee. “Emily,” she turned to Emma, who by then, had long grown tired of trying to correct her, “Why don’t you get my mug and pour me some coffee?"

Miranda, as Emma had come to learn, had the oddest sense of humor and seemed to get off on ‘accidently’ treating her like a maid. And sometimes, like her very own lady in waiting. “Sure,” Emma managed through gritted teeth, all but snatching the handcrafted mug off a shelf in the cabinet and then half filling it with scalding black liquid. “Anything else?” The ordinarily polite quip was actually meant as a petty jab, though Miranda didn’t seem to get that.

“There is actually,” stirring in some of the creamer, not even looking Emma’s way, “Do you think could whip me up an egg white omelet?”

That time, before Emma could speak, Keanu was interjecting, “Mandy,” he tried to sound light and teasing, the edge of annoyance kept at bay, “You know that Em isn’t a maid. Besides, the tutors are coming soon and she has to get the kids ready.”

“Well I’m sure you can do that Keke, I have to finish prepping for my meeting with the wedding planner and I can’t do that on an empty stomach,” pouting dramatically, Miranda summoned up her best puppy eyes for Keanu, “Please darling? For the sake of our wedding?”

“I…..” Keanu stuttered, and Emma hoped with everything in her that he wouldn’t feed her to the lion, but of course, she couldn’t be so lucky, “Why not?” Defeated, Emma’s sigh was soft, and before she knew it, Keanu was rounding up Matt and Poppy and flashing her sympathetic look before herding them towards the hallway after announcing that it was bath time.

She waited until Keanu was gone, and from the minute Keanu was out of earshot, Miranda began the inescapable torture. She cared very little for those who she proudly referred to as help, though Miranda did like hearing herself talk enough to ramble on to anything with ears. “I don’t know if Keanu’s mentioned it,” she carried on, popping a grape from the bowl in the fridge into her mouth, “But we’ve decided on a winter wedding in New York. We’re doing it at the Weylin on New Year’s Eve.”

“That’s……” Emma’s voice was soft and it took everything in her to not break down at the thought of Keanu marrying someone else. Worst yet, it was so close, just over a month and a half away. “That’s nice.”

“It is, isn’t it?” Emma was in the process of gathering the egg whites, expertly separating them from the yolks like her mother had taught her so long ago. “It’s going to be a grand affair,” she explained exuberantly, “And I’ve got a designer from Dior working on a custom dress. I’m already in talks with a couple magazines, we’re going to cover the entire thing.”

Furrowing her brows, Emma slowed down as she moved on to chopping the seasonings. A publicized wedding? That didn’t sound much like Keanu at all; he was notoriously private and hated the press getting in on his life. It was why he’d avoided social media and had pitched out thousands for Matt and Poppy to be homeschooled. “Are you sure Keanu will like that?” Emma’s tentative probe was soft and unsteady and she knew very well that it wasn’t her place to ask.

“Well why wouldn’t he?” Miranda sank into a seat at the kitchen table, nearest to the window, where the warm light was filtering in and washing to room with a heat contrasted perfectly by the low setting of the air conditioner, “The publicity will be great for him too. God knows he needs it sometimes, if he didn’t work so much, there wouldn’t be anything for anyone to write about.”

“I think that’s the point,” foolishly, Emma countered, “I mean, he does hate having his life all over the media, he likes privacy. Right?”

“Oh God,” she burst out laughing, rolling her eyes, “You’re a naïve little thing aren’t you, Emily? Every celebrity plays that little game. But in our world, no matter what you do, everyone is gonna know everything about you, and it sells. And as long as it sells, who gives a fuck about privacy?”

Fumbling for words, Emma slid the now finished omelet onto a pristine white plate, “I’m sure its not possible to know everything.” The conversation was starting to make her uncomfortable, and Emma desperately wanted an out.

“Of course it is,” Miranda cackled loudly, “This is Hollywood dear, there are eyes everywhere.” Emma had just set the plate and cutlery down in front of Miranda, and was already, leaving the kitchen hoping to get back to cleaning up later that morning when the older woman added, just as she was at the mouth of the long corridor, “Just remember that Emily, every secret, every nose job, every hidden pregnancy, every affair…..it always gets out, sooner or later.”

She paused for a minute at the mere mention of the word ‘affair,’ though, Emma didn’t want to have some kind of teary episode right there in front of Keanu’s wretched fiancée, picking up a quick pace not long after. She had to get to her room before the heat had completely risen to her face and the tears had inevitably started falling, she couldn’t be caught like that without reasonable explanation. Emma was almost there, her door was straight ahead after she’d climbed the stairs, and her head was down as she toyed anxiously with the knot of the robe when someone grabbed her arm, effectively startling her. “Hey,” Keanu side stepped in front of her, looking around to make sure that they were truly alone. “I was hoping to get you alone.”

“Uhh….” Blinking away the shock she’d left the kitchen with, Emma tried to act normal, ignoring the rapid beating of her heart, “I um…..what do you want?”

“To see you, alone. Just the two of us,” before Emma could object, Keanu cut her off, “I know you’ve been avoiding me, and definitely I deserve the cold shoulder. But I have something planned, just for the two of us.”

“Ke-” Torn, Emma half sobbed, knowing that she badly wanted some time alone with him but also knowing that with Miranda back it would be a risk.

“I know,” he sighed, “But I miss you, so much baby,” he leaned in, stealing kiss which she readily reciprocated, “I just want to be with you,” he peered down the stairs, ensuring that Miranda wasn’t nearby, his baritone dropping an octave as Keanu placed a hand on her waist, stepping closer, “I know you’re mad at me, but don’t you miss me too sweetheart?”

“I’m not mad at you, and I do miss you” Emma laid a gentle hand on Keanu’s shoulder, a couple rogue tears slipping past her lashes, “But this is wrong, you know that.”

“I do,” he whispered, bending to press his forehead to hers, “But I can’t help it, you’re all I think about sometimes,” swallowing thickly, Keanu continued, “I’ve put something together and my sister has been asking for the kids for a while now. Miranda is gonna be out with her girlfriends tonight, say you’ll come with me.”

Licking her lips, Emma ignored the voice in her head that urged that it was a bad idea, “Where?”

“Its a surprise,” Keanu smiled faintly, catching her lips in a brief peck, “But I promise you’ll like it. Just dress in jeans, and your leather jacket cause we’re taking the bike. Okay?”

Hesitating, Emma eventually nodded, “Okay,” she sealed with a kiss, reluctantly untangling from him, walking off with a backwards glance, her tormented gaze meeting his hopeful one last time.

“Ke….” Emma emitted soft, breathy, delighted giggles that seemed to get lost the minute it was cast out in the atmosphere. The lights were turned down low and past the clear, glass double doors, a sleek, modern fireplace was lit on the porch that jutted out over the edge of the cliff, overlooking the darkened ocean. The heels of her boots thudded softly on the rich hardwood as Emma stepped further into the primarily glass abode. The high ceilings, supported by thick fiberglass beams, matched the floors when she looked up in awe, and eventually, when she reached the open doors leading to the cool outside, where a salty breeze blew her freed tresses, Emma was almost at a total loss for words, “This is……”

A wide, proud smile split his lips. Keanu was glad she liked it, he’d pulled a lot of strings to get them that place for a few hours. It was far off from the lively city and the thick surrounding foliage should have protected them from being discovered by any prying eyes. For a few precious hours, they could be free. Slowly, he approached Emma where she stood, grasping the cool railing, mouth still agape as she looked forward. Snaking his arms around her waist and pressing his chest against her back, he laid a kiss no the side of her head. It was so perfect, it always was; being with her.

Everything faded when she was in his arms; the chill of the night air, the glow from around the pool and the quiet crackle of the fireplace. When they were alone together, nothing mattered but Emma. Keanu had never felt that way about anyone, not even Diana, the mother of his children, the woman who ran from their family and broke his heart. He’d tried making it work with her for as long as they could, but in the end, she wouldn’t have married him, much less stick around and raise two children. Keanu had almost given up on finding someone, someone who’d love Matt and Poppy the way he did, be the mother they deserved and the woman he’d spent the rest of his life with. Even when he'd met Miranda, there hadn’t been much hope left, but he was willing to make it work. Though, lately, Keanu had taken to wondering if the woman right there in his arms was actually the one he’d been waiting for. She’d taken his breath away with her unmatched beauty and now, with each passing day, he was giving a little more of his heart away to Emma. It wouldn’t be long till she’d own the part he’d reserved for someone special. She was special, “Absolutely stunning."

When Emma turned slightly in his embrace, she found that Keanu was looking right at her, chuckling musically when he bent and nuzzled her cheek and tightening his hug so she couldn't escape his affections. "Are you talking about the view or something else?"

Peppering her cheek with kisses, his rough salt and pepper beard grazing her satiny skin, Keanu hummed, "Maybe someone else….." Finally, Emma spun so they were chest to chest, her arms winding around his neck, tangled her fingers in the ends of his hair, disheveled from wearing his helmet, "You look so beautiful tonight," his eyes softened, gaze clouded over with something uncertain though unwavering, "You're always so beautiful," Keanu leaned down, capturing her lips.

He tasted like tobacco and something uniquely him, the same thing she thought about when falling asleep at night. From the minute they’d first kissed, that night in Paris, tension practically shoving them into each other’s arms, Emma thought that his lips seemed like they were meant to lock with hers; Keanu always knew exactly what she needed.

Tilting her head, Emma let herself melt against him, submitting to the comfort of his warmth and the security of his kiss. Even if everything else was wrong in their lives, even if everyone would inevitably get hurt, at least they had that. Kisses that completed them, even if just for a little while.

A little while.

One day they’d have to go back to living without each other. Inhaling deeply, filling her lungs with the kind of fresh air that was usually absent in the city, Emma pulled away, her hands pressing against Keanu’s chest in unspoken protest, and in an attempt to keep her from walking away, he loosely circled her wrists, “What?” Knitting his brows, he frowned deeply, “Did I do something wrong?”

“No,” her voice broke unexpectedly, her eyes shining, bright with unshed tears, “Not really, its just…..” The words wouldn't come, at least not the ones that would help Emma elucidate exactly what she wanted Keanu to know. She didn’t want to ruin their one perfect night, but she didn’t want it to be their only perfect night. Emma wanted more, more than she might ever get with him, “You just……you do everything right, you know?” Shaking her head sorrowfully, she sniffled, “Almost everything.”

Casting his head towards their feet, Keanu nodded faintly, his chuckle dry and humorless, “Yeah,” he huffed, “I know what you mean.” Thinking on the matter for a moment, Keanu knew that his heart had been begging him to do the right thing, be the man that they both needed, but he simply couldn’t. Maybe if he didn’t have kids, or were just a few years younger. There were so many ‘maybe’s. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled, trying to hug her.

“You always say that,” Emma slunk out from between Keanu and the guard rail, strolling along the balcony, trying to put some space between them so she could think properly, “But nothing changes.”

“I’m trying,” Keanu reasoned.

“Are you?” When Emma turned towards him, some of her hair whipped against her flushed cheeks, “Cause it feels like you’re just saying that to get me to shut up about the real problem.” Scoffing, she swiped at her eyes, “What are we doing Keanu?”

His lips quivered, an explanation absent. There was nothing he could say to fix it, he knew that, but he wanted to, he needed to. Keanu needed her. He knew he’d been playing childish games with Emma, sneaking around and stealing moments. He was too old for it to make sense, and Emma deserved to be more than his shadowed lover. “We’re……” He trailed off, wishing things were easier.

“You know what it feels like?” Folding her arms, Emma ignored the new dryness in her throat, opting not to move when Keanu approached her, racing out to lay a hand on her hip, probably worried that she was about to end things between them.

Licking his lips, Keanu’s gaze flickered to hers and he swore he already knew what she was going to say. He knew because he felt it too, “What?”

Emitting a frustrated sigh, exasperation fueled by the complexity of their lives and the knowledge that things were bound to stay the same unless he changed them. Emma, despite her better senses, raised her hand to cup his cheek, rubbing her thumb along the corner of his lips, as she tilted her head to the side, regarding him with obvious pain in her eyes, “It feels like I’m falling in love with you even though I shouldn’t.”

Keanu’s arm slid around to her lower back, urging Emma closer, pecking her forehead, “I’m falling in love with you too,” he whispered, muffled by her skin.

Relived by his admission, Emma relented to holding Keanu in a tight hug, pressing her ear over his steady heartbeat. They stayed like that for a while, faces turned towards the vast ocean beyond the mountain, the water darkened, only defined by the rippling glow; the distance so undefined that it was easy to liken it to themselves. An unbound beauty that may have remained largely unexplored. “Come on,” Emma eventually pulled away, grabbing Keanu’s hands so they wouldn’t be completely separated, “Let’s not waste the rest of our night,” she mustered up a small smile, one that was returned by Keanu who, like her, still seemed troubled, but was willing to put it past them, just they could make the most of their stolen moments.

*****

Tagging- @harrisongslimited @magnificentclodpiebanana @keandrews @greenmanalishi @rdjloverxxx @danceoftwowolves @planetkt @wheretheriversrunintothesea @nonsensicalobsessions

#keanu reeves #keanu reeves fanfic #keanu reeves x reader #keanu reeves x ofc #behind closed doors #nanny au #keanu reeves fanfiction #ff

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oftenderweapons · 3 years

Text

Mold Me New (3) — Taehyung

A Small Town Swoons Story

Pairing: Taehyung x reader (nicknamed Frog — for now)

Wordcount: 3.7k

Genre: ceramic artist!Taehyung, divorced!reader, Strangers to Lovers, Fluff, Angst, Slice of Life

Rating: 18+ (for future smut and explicit thoughts)

Hello to my readers!!! Welcome to the Small Town Swoons Universe! 🥰✨

In this episode: Terry has given very generic instructions to Frog about how to retrieve her birthday gift. A more then welcome surprise follows.

TRIGGER WARNINGS: None. (Wow. I’m shocked.)

Once more let me thank potter supreme @joheunsaram (I’d be wandering in darkness and despair without you. Lob U)

Here is my complete masterlist and in case you need it, here’s the Spotify music companion.

Navi: Chapter 1 — Chapter 2 — Chapter 3 — Chapter 4 — Chapter 5 — Chapter 6 — Chapter 7

“Hello?”

You felt deeply embarrassed venturing into the backyard of a stranger.

“Excuse me? Hello?”

The heavy sound of something slamming against the floor of a garage had you slightly worried. You were ready to run away when the door opened. The neighbourhood wasn’t familiar to you and Terry’s refusal to tell you anything about the specific address she had given you scared you even more.

You feared you’d end up at one of Terry’s friends with benefit’s house.

You changed your mind, however, when you recognised the man standing out of the door.

“Frog? Is that you?”

“Taehyung?” You said, recalling the name of the man. You had met him only a couple days before, spending a good time with his friends while your own had ditched you.

“Hello Frog!” He exclaimed, incredibly happy to see you. “Are you here for a four pm meeting?”

“All I know is that Terry told me to be here by four. She gave me the address but,” you laughed, shaking your head and touching your hair nervously. “She didn’t mention it was you. She didn’t say anything. She only said it was a surprise.”

Taehyung’s laugh exploded suddenly, deep and loud. “That explains many, many things.” He nodded to himself, waiting for you to get closer. “Welcome to my studio,” he said, letting the door open a bit wider.

The space inside was bright and airy, with a wall that resembled a glasshouse, while the others were made of brick and lined with shelves. In a corner you noticed a strange contraption, like an iron cauldron, and an unfamiliar machine close to a basin. There was also a large table all along the glass wall, like it was waiting for plants to be hosted, but none were found.

“With me you’ll learn the humble, raw art of modelling clay.”

You turned to him with a furrowed brow, completely confused. “Clay?”

“Yes. Clay.”

“You model clay?” You asked, giving him an amused look.

“I am an artist,” he stated clearly. “I also model clay but that’s not all I do.”

“So that’s my gift? A clay lesson?”

“Ten clay lessons. I’ll make you an intermediate.” Taehyung reached a wooden cabinet, opening it and taking out a large block of clay, grabbing something from his apron and detaching a smaller part before putting the clay back in the cabinet. “But first, let me get you an apron.”

You felt your eyes blink in confusion. “You teach?”

“Art should answer anyone’s calls, in my opinion. I help people learn how to call.”

You were positively impressed. The quiet, if a bit Darcy-esque man, seemed relaxed and talkative in his natural habitat.

Taehyung reached a coat hook on the wall, giving a good look at you before choosing a garment suitable for your height. “This should do,” he said, offering it to you and letting you put it on.

You appreciated the independence he allowed you, allowing you to wear it yourself. You hung your tote on the now free hook and slipped your arms and head into the different loops before closing the tie around your waist in a cute ribbon.

“You'll want to fix your hair before your hands get messy,” Taehyung suggested, watching you carefully get it out of harm's way, since the last thing you wished for was dirt in your hair.

“You didn’t mention you teach art the other night.”

He smiled shyly. “The night you introduced yourself, I remembered I had gift lessons booked under your name. I wanted your birthday surprise to stay a surprise.”

You were entirely endeared at the thought. “That’s very sweet of you!” You exclaimed, watching him collect the piece of clay he had previously cut.

“It’s not a big deal,” he murmured, looking away as his cheeks blushed.

He was eager to watch you learn. He already felt like your hands could have so much potential. He had studied them all night after he met you, watching the sinewy fingers arch and straighten and hold and curve. “Okay, let’s start from a little bit of theory.”

He moved to the table by the window, “Would you mind grabbing a bowl with some water, there?” He pointed to a large utility sink in one of the corners, where you found a bowl and filled it halfway with water.

You made a careful work of walking to the table, placing down the bowl and sighing in relief once you realised you had caused no issues so far.

“Two questions. Have you ever used clay before?”

You snorted and shook your head. “Nope.”

“So you supposedly know nothing about it?”

“Exactly.”

He chuckled and bobbed his head. “That’s okay. All you need to know so far, is that clay is a mineral, and it can have different compositions which make it more or less difficult to model and to cook. I’ll have you use very generic clay, which is suitable for beginners, isn’t too picky about cooking and will look a bit plain, but is also pretty easy to shape. You’ll thank me later.”

You raised your eyebrows and smiled.

“It’s easy to work with, it cooks at low temperature and is also cheap, which will make it better if you ever choose to continue this hobby,” he explained. “It will take a fairly long time for you to master several techniques with this one, so no use spending money on fancy stuff. We’ll keep that for when you’re an upper intermediate. All cool?” He asked, checking in on you with his beautiful, dark eyes.

He had very pretty eyes, you noticed.

“Yes, got that.” You confirmed, startling when he slammed the clay against the table.

“Cool.” He replied with half a grin. “Let’s start from zero.”

Once more he extracted a tool from the pocket of his apron, showing it to you. “This is a wire. You’ll find one in your apron too.”

You rummaged in the pocket and found it. “This will help you with step one — Wait. Lemme start from very very zero.”

He walked back to the cabinet and dragged a block of clay out — the one he’d cut a piece from a few minutes ago. “This is called craft clay or potters’ clay. It’s ready-made and you can buy it in any diy shop. Some artists make their own mix, but let’s start with this since it’s specifically made for learners.”

“It looks very tough,” you commented, testing the small amount he’d cut before, prodding it with your finger.

“It just needs some love,” he explained, pouting sadly. “Clay is so misunderstood. It needs to be firm. But it’s pliable, as long as you treat it appropriately.”

You arched your eyebrows. “I just thought it was softer. Messier, somehow.”

“It is once you wedge it and moisturise it.” Taehyung acknowledged. “Clay contains platelets. Platelets make it solid, but also plastic as long as it’s not dry. Right now you have two enemies. Shape memory and air.”

Taehyung’s hands got on the piece instinctively. “Today I’ll only manage to explain wedging and centering. So be careful and pay attention. If you mess up wedging, your life will get ten times more impossible on the wheel. Let’s start.” He brought the main block back in the cabinet. “That one needs to stay fresh.”

Once at the table he settled beside you. “What’s wedging?” You asked, staring at your piece of clay.

“Wedging is your starting point. As you saw earlier, ready- made clay comes in blocks. Which means square. On the wheel, you’ll always start from a cute soft ball. Which means round.”

Taehyung’s hands massaged the clay for comfort. He felt somehow uneasy at the way he was going to interact with you. “Basically clay holds memory of the shape it was in. You want to erase it to make it more pliable. Like… When an introvert is in their comfort zone for too long and you need to get them back in society and you just… force them in several different social circumstances to warm them up, make them more versatile. More sociable.”

God, he felt ridiculous. He was using his inner turmoil to explain pottery.

He was going to defenestrate himself.

“Okay,” you laughed. “I got the introvert thing. I like the parallel.” You smiled and for a second you thought about all the years you’d been there, shaped like a block to fit inside someone’s life — or to fit them in yours.

You could use some wedging too.

“We usually wedge on plaster, or concrete or wood, because they get the extra water out of the clay. You want it to be a tiny bit humid. But not wet.” Taehyung spread his large hands over the small disk in front of him. “You want to make it more homogeneous. Uniform. For today let’s use the ram’s head method. It’s basically like kneading dough.”

His hair fell over his eyes as he bent down, leaning towards the table. “We have a small amount of clay, since you’re starting. You basically want it to become a thick block first.”

He bent the disk in two, turning it in a thicker, longer rectangle before placing his hands to the opposite sides and pressing, making the clay become more compact.

“Okay, try,” he invited you to do the same.

You mimicked his actions, focusing on the cold, solid feeling of the material under your fingertips.

“Use your palms. Don’t be afraid to get your whole hands on it. You’ll need all your strength.”

You nodded and followed his lead, the cold expanding to your palms, the feeling amplifying beautifully. It was somehow reinvigorating after the initial strangeness.

“Good. Now. Ram’s head.” He inhaled and regained his position. “These,” he said, wiggling his fingers, “and these,” he explained circling his hand around his shoulder. “That’s where you want to focus. All your strength resides there. You won’t feel it right now, but you will once you work with larger pieces.” He steadied himself and placed his palms on the sides of the piece. “Palms on the sides. Your wrists will do all the work. Your thumbs wrap around the top of the piece. The other fingers on the back of the piece. Focus on the wrists. You want to push the clay downwards first, then outwards, to the back of the piece. Okay. Position your hands.”

Taehyung stood straight up, allowing you to see his clay, on top of which he was previously bent over.

“I’m not…” You frowned and tried to feel the clay under your hands, trying to recognise the different sides.

“It’s okay. May I?” He asked, bringing his right hand close to yours.

You nodded, waiting for the contact.

It was chalky, somehow, almost dusty with the way the clay was already drying up, but it still held some cold dampness.

He corrected your fingers, staring at them and giving them a slight twist. “This way your wrists should reach just fine.”

He stood at your side, respecting your personal space even though his hand touched you. The smile on his face was the gentlest, most exciting thing you had felt in a while.

“Okay, mirror it with your left,” he told you as he stepped back, regaining his own space.

“This feels nice,” you admitted, giving the first twist of your wrist.

“Let’s see if you still think so after wedging for twenty minutes,” Taehyung chuckled.

“Twenty minutes!?” You said, already worried.

He giggled and shook his head, his curls brushing against his forehead, which you didn’t notice, because you were too busy focusing on the clay under your hands.

“Ten, usually. Twenty if you need very pliable clay. Like if you’re doing hand-building. But we can use something a bit rougher.” Taehyung helped you get out of the position your clay body was stuck in. “Help it with your fingers. Bring it back, yes,” he encouraged you once the position was right. “And now your wrists. Exactly. Look at you. You’re learning!”

He looked excited when you turned to look at him. He was literally shining with the meek sunlight coming from the window.

“I’m learning!” Your excitement mirrored his own.

“Okay, now, watch. This is why it’s called ram’s head.” Taehyung showed you the spiral on the sides, and the elongated triangle on the front.

“That looks fancy!” You said, feeling curious about the shape.

“Keep going and yours will be just like this!” He spurred you on, making you work harder and faster, which eventually led you to the ruthless burning that possessed your arms afterwards.

With his elbow, Taehyung pointed at your shoulder blade. “Just push your body weight into the clay. The whole motion should mimic a wave,” he showed you how. “If your hands are positioned right, you only need to lean in to wedge— Just. Like. That! Good job, Frog!”

You smiled and went on, paying attention to his corrections, and his gentle advice, enjoying the gentleness with which his pinkie finger pointed to a specific direction, or a finger that was in the wrong position, realigning it.

“Nice! Now, tuck the corners in in a cute fluffy ball. See how soft and warm and round it feels now?”

You nodded enthusiastically. There was something in menial tasks that always made you happy with yourself. Seeing the results of your efforts and hard work always made you feel accomplished, productive.

And it’s been a while since you felt that rush, except for seeing an organised shelf in your shop, with books neatly aligned and rated.

“Okay. I’ll show you how to work the wheel. We got little time left, so maybe I can show you the groundwork and then you can toy around with the body I centred, so you can get familiar with the feeling.”

You agreed.

Taehyung gave a few more twists to your clay body and brought it to the wheel. “Okay. Here we go. Forget Ghost, this thing is a lot more difficult than that. And forget all that water. Too messy. Bowl?” He asked.

Your forehead creased as he pointed to a small stand with a basin. It looked like a short version of a vintage stand for those porcelain bowls used in bedrooms.

You moved it closer to him.

“Thank you,” he smiled and caught the clay body, throwing it on the middle of the turning plate, currently still as he hadn’t yet activated the wheel.

“You can aim for the centre. There’s an indentation to show it. See,” he pointed to the plate. “There are all these circles to show you if you’re actually following the shape.”

He dipped a finger in the bowl, letting the extra water drip down, until it was just slightly damp. “You run around the base to seal it. That way you don’t need to slam it down and you don’t risk watching it unstick and mess around with you.”

“Okay. Great!”

“Now. Position is very important. With your legs you hold the holster and the wheel. Don’t worry about getting too close. Check three things. Knees around the wheel. Elbows braced on your thighs — that will stabilise you. And your torso leans forward. Not angled but perpendicular to the wheel. You need to be right on top of it, so your weight sinks down. Not across.” He showed you the correct position, his lean frame protecting the ball of clay like a hen defends her chicks.

Watching him become so tactile and connected with the material under his hands was endearing, but also fascinating, especially with the way his hands wrapped around the body.

“Okay, let me centre it for you, then you can try. It’s a procedure that can go back and forth, so I’ll have you doing this over and over for a few times. It will help you familiarise with it.”

“Thank you,” you replied, watching his fingers sink in the water. “Now, trick. You wet your hands. Let them drip down just a little, so you don’t drench your piece. If the piece is drenched, the platelets will loosen and the walls of your cup, bowl, vase, whatever will collapse. And we don’t want that, right?”

The way his head snapped towards you with an inquisitive look made you shake your head and reply readily, “nope.”

“Exactly. So, we sink our hands in, rest, and— one, two three, drip and—” he moved his hands over the clay body, letting a few tens of droplets fall onto the material. “Nice and wet. Not sodden, of course. We don’t want that, remember?”

You blinked and nodded as his hands started moving.

Taehyung grinned as he noticed your captivated gaze. You were learning. You were curious, interested, completely amazed. It was the most satisfying look he had ever seen. “This is your treasure now. You curl yourself around it and protect it. Like a dragon hoards its gold.”

He leaned down into the piece, his foot looking for the pedal and pressing it down very, very delicately.

“Your pinkies and ring fingers are doing all the work right now. They seal around the base, reinforcing the sealing we did before. Once you gave enough spins around the base — oh, feel the plate with the side of your pinkie and palm!” He reminded himself, showing you the part of his hand and securing it around the wheel once more. He corrected his position. “You will feel the clay push you up. That’s when your palms close in. You want to make sure it goes up.”

The wheel suddenly stopped and Taehyung showed you the result. “See. Cute mushroom shape. A two inch stem, and then the round hat.”

You bent down to check and studied the way the table started spinning slowly again, showing you the consistent shape.

“More water. Same technique.” He repeated the dip-drip process. “Now. Pinkies stay in. Lots of pressure. And your palms are going to push the hat of the mushroom up. You want it to turn into a cone. So once the hat disappears, you’re gonna keep your hands steady, with a lot of pressure, and drag them up, slowly. And bend them inwards slightly, into a tip.” He followed the process with his hands, his fingers steady and his veins thicker at the effort and the pressure. The way his elbows braced against his hands brought even more blood to the back of his palms.

Still, you didn’t let that cloud your focus. You stared at the process, especially once he stopped the wheel and took his hands off.

“Now we’re bringing it downwards with the thumbs. We’re helping it regain the center. This,” he prodded the ball of his thumb, the soft part where the finger could sink, “is the part that gains the centre. You push it down, while your fingers lean over. Like you’re projecting energy from your palms.” He finished showing the procedure, showing how the ball of clay was a perfectly round dome, placed in the exact middle of the wheel.

“Now you take the lead!” He turned to you with a grin.

With a shy blush you watched him stand up and gesture to the seat elegantly.

You settled down and fixed your position around the wheel, following the instructions he had given you previously.

“That’s nice. Closer.” He corrected you helping your seat closer to the holster of the wheel.

“Now we’re ready to go. Wet your hands—” he directed you, helping you count the dip and drip. “Steady.”

You placed your pinkies tightly around the base, feeling the dome a bit too large for your hands. That’s because it was shaped for his large hands.

“Yes. Steady,” he encouraged you. “Go.”

The taglist is open!

Navi: Chapter 1 — Chapter 2 — Chapter 3 — Chapter 4 — Chapter 5 — Chapter 6 — Chapter 7

#taehyung fluff #taehyung x reader #kim taehyung fanfiction #thetruthuntoldnet #thebtswritersclub #Taehyung strangers to lovers

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beetle-not-yeetle · 3 years

Text

What happened to You?

Aka the first chapter of my dsmp circus au

Trigger Warnings (TW’s): mentions of Death, guilt and panic attacks.

Swing, hit, pull. Swing, hit, pull. Henry moos from the stable, Fran sleeps on the porch. Tommy lifts his arms, swings and rakes the weeds from the soil. Sighing as he uses the bandana around his neck to wipe the sweat from his forehead. He looks across the half empty fields, tomorrow is sure to be a day full of planting.

Dropping the hoe he was using and he stretches his arms out in front of him. His stomach rumbles. It’s time to call it a day.

Tommy makes his way to Fran, giving Henry a pat and a treat on the way. He steps on to the creaking porch and gently nudges the snoozing dog.

“C’mon then,” he holds open the screen door leading into the kitchen. She yawns, showing off all her teeth in their domesticated wolf glory, and enters through the door. “Good girl.” He smiles, taking his boots off on the porch and joining her in the kitchen.

“Now what will we have for dinner today, hm?” He asks, grabbing a dusty bowl from an upper cabinet. “Potato and carrot stew or carrot and potato stew?”

Tommy rinses his bowl out in the sink, and sets it on the drying rack. He gazes out the window just above it.

Tommy admires the fields he worked so hard on. Freshly sown dirt mixed with strips of gold from the setting sun, some filled with seeds sure to grow. A sense of pride settles in his chest.

He comes back to himself and sets back to his main task: Making dinner.

Tommy dries his bowl and looks around the kitchen. Fran has returned to napping, this time in front of the cabinet holding the pots and pans, blocking Tommy’s access to very crucial tools to heat up stew. A plan forms quickly in his head.

“And of course for the lady,” his voice takes a regal tone as waltzes to the fridge, pulling out a container. “the finest meat in all of history!” He shouts, ripping off its lid for Fran to smell out.

The effect is immediate. Fran perks up and trots over. Tommy holds the container out like one would hold an offering to the Queen. He tries not to cringe as she loudly scoffs down what he’s pretty sure is Henry’s second cousin and quickly goes to the sink to wash his hands.

Handling raw meat and the like was always Techno’s job.

His hands falter at the thought. He quickly brushes away the memory, shoving any and all feelings he’s had deep into his chest and scrubs harder at his hands.

Shutting off the water he wanders to the previously blocked cabinet. He bends down to open it and starts digging through it. Tommy really has no idea why Phil was always so insistent on having so much cook wear-

Tommy stands abruptly, ripping out the first tiny pot his hands fell on.

He places it on the stove with a bit more force than necessary and goes back to the fridge, yanking out the leftover stew. Fran looks at him curiously as he puts his serving into the pot and roots around the top cabinets. Grumbling out nonsense as he tries and fails to find some elusive bread.

Pressure builds behind his eyes because he just can’t find it. He swears there was some this morning but it's just not there. It’s gone, they’re gone-

A garbled noise forces its way out of his throat as he slides down to the floor. Laying his head on his knees, he crosses his arms tight over himself. The tears burn in his eyes but he doesn’t let them fall. He can’t cry over something as pathetic as bread.

Fran’s wet nose prods at his homemade fortress but even as her loud sniffling blows out his right eardrum he doesn’t unfurl. She keeps up her attack until eventually settling next to him and laying her head across his feet.

As soon as the pressure dissipates Tommy lifts his head, looking down to the dog pretending to sleep over his ankles. Tentatively he reaches out, resting his hand on her head. She leans into the touch. Tommy’s eyes fill again.

He doesn’t deserve this, he doesn’t deserve her, he thinks.

Paying no mind to the wetness on his cheeks, he pats her head, gently moving his feet out from under her chin. Tommy sits there just petting her for a minute or two.

He clears his throat, standing up to take his slightly over cooked stew off the heat. Fran stands too, following him around as he grabs his bowl from the rack and a spoon from the drawer, only flopping down beside him when he sits down at the dinner table.

He tries to ignore the three empty seats. Still the memories slip through, those of smiling faces and laughter, of food flung across tables and gentle scolding.

Now the scrape of the spoon against the ceramic hurts his ears. He silently wishes there was something, someone, to cover up the sound.

Time passes. Tommy stares into his empty bowl. His vision goes blurry as tears hit the table. Fran shuffles closer under the table.

Rubbing at his eyes he gets out of his seat, taking the bowl to the sink to be cleaned in the morning and filling a glass with water.

He walks out of the kitchen and up the stairs to his bedroom, setting the glass on his nightstand. He contemplates whether to shower or not, on the one hand he knows a shower might make him feel better, on the other he feels just about ready to fall apart.

He runs a hand through his hair, making a face as he feels the greasy strands. Shower it is then.

The shower made him feel cleaner, even if the sight of water turning brown down the drain made him a little queasy.

Emotionally he did not feel better. In fact he still felt quite shit.

He still knows that when he steps out of the bathroom door he will be alone. The distinct lack of Wilbur’s snoring, the non-existent ruffle of pages slipping from beneath Techno’s door, no quiet humming of Philza. No sounds of life from people whose bodies he never found.

He had Fran of course, but Fran has ghosts too.

He dresses in his most comfortable pajamas and leaves the bathroom, trying to shut out the silence.

The door to his bedroom squeaks as he opens it. It's been years but he can never find the time to fix it.

Tommy lays down on his bed. The sound of his own breathing grates on his ears. He knows it's going to be one of those nights. One where hours that should be spent sleeping are spent staring at the ceiling, lost in the past.

He had been staring at the same ceiling five years ago the night his entire family disappeared. That time though he actually fell asleep.

Read the rest here

Or here if you can’t touch it:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/32118724/chapters/79572757

More information for this is under the tag ‘dsmp circus au’ and/or ‘fic related stuff!’

#dsmp #dsmp fic #dsmp Tommy #can you tell who my favorite character is??#c!Tommy #I can fit so much trauma into him it’s great #fic related stuff!#dsmp circus au #Fran is underrated #that is a sad fact #Fran dsmp #mcyt #this is the verse my #dream smp citizen memes #are in btw #dsmp ficlet #dsmp fic rec #it’s me I’m recommending it #I think I did a good job

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yeochikin · 4 years

Text

sick days. | j. yunho

a/n: phew i finally did it! this is a sequel to this fic but this can also be read as its own too! i won’t lie, i had so much trouble writing this. the amount of times i typed then erased then typed over and over again was a huge struggle for me in the past week, so i understand if this fic seemed a little... blegh ;;;; writer’s block sucks but it’s alright, i enjoyed writing it anyway hehe hope you enjoyed this. do excuse any mistakes as this has not been proofread ✨💖

word count: 3k+

main focus: yunho x fem. reader

warning(s): none, i think!

“tell me i'm hot.”

“yeah, you're hot, yunho.”

“aye.”

“you have a fever.”

“aye?”

“say ‘aye’ one more time, and i’m gonna stab you with my paintbrush.”

“aye!”

your eye twitched at his answer, showing him the temperature you had taken for him. the boy in question, who was currently laid all tucked in bed with a wet cloth on his forehead, merely gave you a bright smile despite his face looking all flushed. sometimes, you wondered whether your roommate was literally a golden retriever in his past life who got reincarnated into a human, but still somehow having the energetic personality following his next life.

“little rose, you're gonna catch my fever too. i can take care of myself.” he protested, watching as you gathered the empty ceramic bowl that was previously filled with yunho's favourite soup, mentally thanking seonghwa in your head for the recipe he gave earlier, promptly placing it onto the wooden tray you left on his bedside drawer.

“pup, you know i have a stronger immune system between the two of us. i'll be fine.” you retorted, causing the sick boy to jut his lower lip out into a little sulky pout.

“you're lucky you're cute, pup.” you grumbled, moving the cloth away to feel at his forehead, the playful glare in your eyes melting into a soft gaze. you couldn’t stay mad at him, even if you tried. luckily, his skin wasn't burning as much as before, though the pinkness in his cheeks were still present.

everything seemed like a blur today. all he remembered was trying to get up from the bed but for some reason, yunho felt as if someone had dumped a huge pile of bricks on top of his body while someone kept hitting his head with a hammer. he was lucky that you came into his room to wake him up as soon as his best friend, mingi, called you up to ask where the peachy haired boy was since he couldn't reach him for some reason. that's when you know something was up.

of course, panic started to fill your entire being as soon as you saw how flushed his cheeks looked upon entering the room, along with him shivering underneath his blanket. you immediately went to his side as you phoned your other friends to tell them what was happening. it didn't take long for yunho to be dragged away from the bed by mingi, and jongho (mainly jongho) just so seonghwa could drive them to the doctor's, despite yunho mumbling that he's fine to which he was absolutely not fine at all.

you were thankful that it wasn't that serious, but nevertheless, yunho still received an earful of scolding from you for not taking care of himself more, as if seonghwa’s nagging wasn't enough.

so now here he is, laying still on the bed as his eyes blinked slowly before his lips lazily curled up into a grin towards you once he felt your palm resting against his forehead. the dazed look in his eyes was already a sign of the medicine he took earlier slowly kicking in. noticing how droopy his eyes were, you made sure the blankets were properly tucked on him.

“rest, pup. by the time you wake up, it will be when i wake you up for dinner so you can take your meds.” you hushed him, sitting down on the edge of his bed.

poor boy only grunted in response, finally giving up to force his eyes open, letting sleep take over him. you had decided to linger a little longer in the room, just until you were completely sure that the taller male was finally getting that much needed rest. sighing to yourself, your lithe fingers gingerly moved away some of the stray strands that managed to cover most of his eyes. your expression softens at the way his lips parted ever so slightly, chest heaving up and down in an even pace, adoring the way he looked so serene. with quick yet quiet movements so as to not wake the male up, you picked up the wooden tray, and crept up on your tiptoes towards the door.

you let your body drop onto the couch in your small living room, an arm over your forehead as your eyes stared up at the ceiling. the room was filled with silence that if someone were to drop a pin, it would have created a loud noise. the silence… it was almost a little too eerie for you. normally, it would have been filled with the sounds of you and yunho discussing your assignments as if one could give the other an inspiration to do so. it was when you turned your head to the coffee table that you saw something on the coffee table.

it was your sketchbook.

the object sitting idly on the table made you recall a particular conversation you had with yunho a couple of night’s ago.

“what are you up to, little rose?”

yunho’s voice effectively made you look up from your sketchbook, the page though seemingly empty, it was a tad crumpled from your many attempts of sketching, doodling, and the many amounts of erasing. the peachy haired boy made his way from the kitchen overlooking the living room to sit down right next to you with two mugs of what seems to be coffee in both hands, handing one of them to you.

sending him a defeated smile along with a low mumble of appreciation, carefully lifting the mug up to your lips to take a small sip of the drink. as if almost immediately, the bittersweet taste of the drink washed over your tastebuds, warmth being sent throughout your entire being. clearly, nothing can really beat coffee whenever you were in a stumped position.

“professor kim wanted us to draw something yesterday.” you finally answered, momentarily pausing to take another sip of the coffee, the boy next to you putting an arm on the couch behind your head while his other hand held onto his mug, listening to you intently.

“he mentioned that he wanted something that.. makes our chests swell with a warm feeling that you feel in your chest whenever you look at your own drawing?” you mumbled, furrowing your eyebrows as you set your gaze onto the blank sketchpad that was laid idly on your lap, lips pursing in deep thought.

“well, surely you must have felt the feeling before, don’t you?” yunho asked, reaching out to place his mug on top of the coffee table in front of where the two of you were seated at.

“i..” you started but somehow, the words died off in your throat.

you wanted to answer ‘yes, of course i have!’.

you wanted to say, ‘everything makes me feel that way too!’

but..

..you had come to the realisation that you had never felt such a feeling in your life before. but, wasn’t that the same thing as happiness? if that was the case, then everything would’ve been ‘a warm feeling’ to you.

yunho, who seemed to notice you being in your usual thinking bubble again, merely smiled to himself. from the couple of years being your roommate, and dare he say, your best friend, he had picked up all of your habits, and actions. from the way you would rub your nose due to being flustered, or how you would pick at your lips whenever you felt nervous - to which, he tried to make you stop by giving you a small keychain with a stress ball attached to it, fortunately making you squeeze it instead of picking your lips again - yunho could read you like an open book most of the time.

though of course, he would have to admit, it is when you seem predictable would be the time where you would be sprouting up something so.. unpredictable. the memory of you pulling a sudden all nighter because of a sudden inspiration from watching a movie would always make you look so endearing in the male’s eyes. it was when your eyes meeting his own was what made yunho flinch ever so slightly in his seat out of surprise.

“tell me, pup. have you ever felt such a feeling before?” you asked, curiosity evident in your bright eyes.

your question was to be expected, making yunho’s features soften at you. folding his arms in front of his chest, his back leaned further into the couch as he hummed underneath his breath in thought. the happiness that managed to make him freeze in place, huh? it took him a moment, but eventually, he nodded his head.

“i have, little rose.” he responded.

“and what was it, if you don’t mind sharing.” you inquired, shifting in your place to sit criss-cross as you turned to face the male next to you.

yunho could only stare at your face, slightly caught off guard upon hearing your sudden interest. he couldn’t help but to release an amused laugh at the way you leaned in ever so slightly, reaching a hand out to playfully ruffle your hair.

“it may sound a little ridiculous. but it was when you threw that birthday party for me last year.” he mentioned, only to feel an amused chortle threatening to leave his lips upon seeing the confused look painted over your face, as if waiting for the peachy haired boy to explain what he meant.

“you baked a cake for me, no?” the corners of his lips quirked up as soon as realisation seemed to hit you. you did bake a cake for him. but really, it wasn’t that special so made him pick that certain day of all days? before you could even ask, however, yunho already beat you to it by giving out his own answer.

“no one has ever baked a cake for me before, it was either bought from our local bakery in town or none at all. but something about a homemade one.. you can feel the effort and so much love from someone who had taken their time in doing so.” yunho trailed off, eyes somehow shining with an unknown sparkle in them as soon as they landed on your own.

“and i have you to thank for, little rose.” he continued, fingers gingerly curling the stray strand of hair behind your ear.

you swear you could feel your heart increase its pace, feeling as if it was about to burst out of your chest. your cheeks felt warm due to the feeling of your blood rushing up to them, a hand quickly reaching up to rub your nose before tearing your gaze away from yunho’s warm one.

you didn’t need any more explanation. you had found your inspiration.

a fond smile curled itself over your tiers at the memory before deciding to stand up as you made your way to your room, grabbing the sketchbook with you along the way. you have a drawing to finish.

❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀

a small creak from a door being opened resonated throughout the small hallway of the house, along with heavy footsteps, and the sound of a deep yawn mingled in the air. yunho rubbed his eyes as he made his way into the living room. his eyes were still heavy with traces of sleep lingered in them before looking over to the wall clock idly hanging on the wall, wanting to know how many hours had passed after he fell asleep earlier. judging by how dark it was outside, it was already night time, or maybe even midnight. with how long he slept, it was possible he slept the whole day away.

although slowly, yunho was thankful that the medicine seemed to make him recover considering how his head wasn’t throbbing painfully like before, though he still felt a little heavy but it wasn’t as bad as earlier. he could get up on his own, and that’s already enough for the tall male.

“y/n?” the peachy haired boy called out, wandering around the house in search for you.

it was when he reached the door to your room that he noticed the door was slightly ajar, along with a faint sound of what seemed like a song playing coming from the inside as well. his knuckles, gently knocked against the wooden surface before gently pushing the door a tad wider, just enough for yunho to peek in.

and there you were. all hunched over your desk with your head on top of your folded arms, seeming to have fallen asleep with whatever you were doing earlier. as much as yunho wanted you to let you have you rest after busying yourself by helping him earlier during the day, he didn’t want you to have a sore neck and back due to the position you were in. he knew how much you would complain about the pain in the two regions afterwards but then doing it again, it was a never ending cycle that yunho was amused to see from the years of living with you.

walking over to the desk with an intention of wanting to wake you up so you could properly lie down, the male noticed something right next to your head. it was your sketchbook. he walked up behind you, looking down at your sleeping figure. with how your pencil was loosely being held in between your dainty fingers along with a couple of crumpled up papers, mixed in with the other pencils in a variety of colours you had strewn all over the surface of your desk, yunho had made the conclusion that you were working on the assignment you had told him a couple of days ago.

he was glad to know that you were finally getting started on it, knowing how much you would procrastinate until things were a little too late for you to do. but with how you managed to finish everything right on time despite having such little time left, would never cease to amaze him every time.

with slow movements (clearly not wanting you to wake up all surprised and accidentally smack him in the face), yunho leaned over you to clear up your desk from all the clutter and coloured pencils around you, only then having a clear view of what you had drawn onto the sketchbook which caused his eyes to widen ever so slightly at the sight, pausing in his ministrations.

his gaze was set on two drawn figures in what seems to be a bedroom, standing side by side with their faces facing each other, joyful smiles painted over their features, each having a paintbrush in hand. it looked like the two of them were enjoying their time together. but what had caught yunho’s eyes was one of the figures having the similar shade of peach as his hair colour, mirroring yunho’s own hair colour. it was when he saw the familiar details on the walls of the drawing that the peachy haired male noticed what, or rather, who the two figures were in the sketchbook.

“yunho?” a soft voice called out, grogginess laced in their tone as they spoke up which made the tall male flinch ever so slightly in place as he tore his gaze away from the drawing down to you.

from his mind, he had already answered you calling out his name but in reality, he was staring down at your face. tilting your head up, eyes half-lidded from the sleepiness still apparent in your irises. it was when you looked down that you might have caught the gist of whatever has made him speechless. emitting a gasp out of realisation, your hands quickly covered the drawing, whining at him.

“y-you weren’t supposed to see that. i wasn’t d-”

“tell me, little rose. what do you see in me?” was his sudden question, effectively making your words die down in your throat. gulping thickly, your heartbeat was suddenly too loud in your ears. finally having the courage, your lips parted to answer the male’s question.

“i have found comfort in you.” you whispered, yunho’s eyes staring into your own nervous ones.

“i have found happiness whenever we spend time together.” you noted the way your faces were mere centimetres apart from each other.

“i have found the.. the warmth that made me feel at home.” his hands reached out for your hands, holding them in his much larger ones, feeling the pad of his thumbs caressing your knuckles.

“i have.. found myself falling for..” you murmured, yunho resting his forehead on top of your own, both of your eyes fluttering shut, and your noses touching against each other.

“i have found myself falling for you.”

you were scared to open your eyes. you were scared that if you did, everything would have taken a completely different turn. you were scared that you would ruin the friendship the both of you have built together. you were scared to see the disgusted look on yunho’s face after the little confession.

you were scared to lose yunho.

however, those thoughts were completely thrown out of the window upon hearing the words being uttered by the male looming above you.

“little rose, can i kiss you?”

the question kept repeating itself in your mind. you wanted to say yes, you wanted to throw your arms around his neck, you wanted to scream out in relief. yet, not even a whisper came out. not trusting your voice, and the choice of words, you merely gave him a nod. to yunho, that was already enough for him. without wasting any more time, the taller male leaned in to press his lips against your own. yunho wasn’t sure if his fever was coming back or it was due to his heart pumping so fast that blood rushed to both of his cheeks. he wasn’t sure, but his face was undeniably warm.

your smaller hand released one of the male’s bigger ones, reaching up to rest itself against his cheek while your lips moved against his own in sync. everything around you felt muted, the only thing you could hear was the beating of your heart like some type of drum. you never knew that a simple action could make you crave for more, but of course, the need for air was already screaming in the both of your minds that made you pull away from each other, albeit reluctantly.

yunho could faintly taste the sweetness that lingered over his lips as his eyes stared into yours in silence, his hand squeezing yours, before a gentle smile spread itself over his brims, you finding it contagious as you can’t help but to show him your own smile in return. deep down, he wanted to kiss you again, seemingly longing to feel them on his lips once again. so, he did just that. much to your surprise, of course you weren’t complaining.

you would be lying if you denied any more of his kisses.

once the both of you pulled away for the second time, one specific thing popped into your mind, eyes widening in realisation which caused yunho to tilt his head ever so slightly to the side in question.

“if you get me sick, i swear.”

“hey, you said you have a strong immune system!”

“jeong yunho!”

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queercultleader · 4 years

Text

The Broom Closet Witch Guide

Hello, my dears! I’ve noticed since I’ve joined and also started posting, there’s quite a few witches who have to hide what they’re doing. The odd thing about me is that my family isn’t aware that I, y’know, dabble in witchcraft. It isn’t something we share at the Thanksgiving table. Living with a parent can make this difficult, though.

This short guide is mostly targeted at younger witches who are scared of their parents figuring things out or are in a dorm, however some of these tips can be used in other situations.

1.)

Altars

You may not be able to keep an altar in the open, but many witches use shoe boxes or old jewelry boxes to contain items. Mint tins have also been used to hold items or if you wanted to decorate the inside, you could use it as a way to pay respect to a deity. You could also use a suitcase to become an altar.

There’s some plane jane wooden boxes you can decorate at Walmart and Dollar General (that I’ve seen with my own four eyes, but obviously you can find them elsewhere). Also, I believe this is just a spring or easter type thing, at the Dollar Tree there’s currently decorative, small boxes of different sizes. The blue, glittery box at the end of this post is one I bought there.

I have an altar that’s out in the open but I also have a small travel altar I made from a mint tin. I have made a post about it previously where I discussed what I put inside of it and what the items’ purposes are-- that you can find right here.

2.)

Deities, Saints, & The Elements

It is not uncommon to use candles to represent deities but if you feel uncomfortable with owning many candles, you can get creative. You could gather rocks and paint them, draw a figure and cut them out, or use special items like coins or glass figures.

If you are wanting to have all the elements represented, there are ways to do this as well. In another blog of mine I mentioned that you could use fuzzy socks to represent fire because they would stand for warmth and comfort. You could use hand fans, small portable electric fans, or a feather to represent air. You can use a sea shell or a small spray bottle with water in it to represent water. For earth, you could collect rocks, dried flowers, or even make something from clay. Just like using rocks to represent deities, you could do the same for the elements by painting them with their symbols.

For my element rocks I created, they’re pictured at the bottom of this blog.

3.)

Resources & Books

If you’re scared of owning or buying physical copies of books, there’s still other ways of reading up and researching. Obviously, you have tumblr which provides so many ideas and tips. You can also find PDFs of books online through websites (example: PDF Drive). On eBay, there’s also very cheap PDFs of books.

Outside of this, public libraries still exist. You can read whatever book you’d like while you are there and then type in your phone’s notes what page you’re on. Continue where you left off when you return. There’s also normally library resources online where you use your library card number. Some of these sites are Hoopla, Freading, and Overdrive.

Lastly, there’s apps that can help inform you about astrology, moon phases, plants, oils, and crystals. I would suggest Plant Net, Spellcaster, Moon Calendar, My EO, Co-Star, Stone, and Picture This.

If you’re interested in tarot cards or runes, there’s apps also for this. I currently use an app called Rune.

4.)

Items For Your Altar

Using an empty candle holder, a small glass/ceramic/metal bowl, or a soap dish can have different uses. The candle holder or bowl can be used as an offering bowl or be used to burn sigils to activate them.The soap dish can be useful to become a make-shift incense holder or to also hold offerings or burn items. I have a soap dish shaped like a sea shell that is bowl-ish almost in shape that could work perfectly. To make an incense holder, use some candle wax to keep the incense in place.

For an altar cloth, you could use spare fabric for sewing or from old clothes, towels, and bandannas.

If you’re to buy any candle, a white candle is all-purpose. You could also use birthday candles. A small lighter would be perfect and discrete.

I also made a guide on easily obtained wands (that I haven’t posted on here, just amino) but one that may work perfectly if you’re trying to not raise suspicion —is using wooden pencils (yes, with their lead!). Some magical uses of lead include: concentration, protection, banishing negativity, providing stability, promoting contact with spirits, and etc.

5.)

Book of Shadows or Grimoire

Afraid of having your book found? You can use a secret language or.. use google docs or writing websites (take advantage of drafts, they aren’t published for the public but you can view them!) Google Docs can be used online or off if enabled in the settings. Writing websites used could be Wattpad, PoetBay, Quotev, Movellas, and etc.

6.)

Hiding Items and Material

You can always hide items in large books or inconspicuous places like pencil pouches, socks, and drawers. If you want to hide pieces of paper, try hiding them in scrapbooks, behind pictures in picture frames, or inside movie cases. There’s also hollowed out books that may be of use!

On apps like Instagram and Pinterest, you may find images of useful tips or spells that you want to save. To hide those pictures, you can install apps like Calculator+. This is a secret gallery of photos disguised as a calculator. You have a password you type in on the calculator and bam you get access to those pictures.

7.)

Divination

Pendulums are easy to make and take apart! You can use keys, rings, nails, and etc along with thread/string. If you want to make a pendulum board or mat to go along with them, they’re also easy to create. Just look at images of boards and make your own version.

I already mentioned there’s apps for tarot and runes but you can also use an ordinary deck of cards to read tarot. There’s guides online! I mentioned one guide in particular on my “Broke Ass Witch Guide: Dollar Tree Items” post you can find here.

You can also use dice for divination. For my pocket altar, I didn’t have any dice on me but I did have clay-- so I made one. You can do the same or maybe make one from paper using a ruler or an already existing template. However, I’ve also seen regular packs of dice at Dollar Tree.

Just A Note

Because I’m a sap.

You are still a witch with your current limitations and I adore you. Don’t threaten your safety if you’re in a strict household. One day you will be on your own and be able to do whatever makes you feel happy and complete. Witchcraft is not about expensive cauldrons, crystals bigger than Texas, rare herbs, and aesthetically pleasing photos for tumblr. Witches are crafty and adapt, they use what they have on them. Some items I would suggest as a basic kit would be: colored ink pens, a wooden pencil, paper, thread (for binding, for making a pendulum), a white candle (if possible!), a small lighter, a spray bottle with a mixture of water and salt (for cleansing), and your creativity. You have a big brain under that pointy hat, I know it.

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moonchildsaurora · 3 years

Text

Moonlight Sonata

✤ OT8 w/ Woo-centric (+ a side of WooSan, SeongJoong) ✤ genre: fantasy!AU // mild horror, more creepy than anything really, a dash of fluff ✤ t/w: sfw, lots of spoopy shit happening, swearing, description of fantasy violence & grotesque body horror, very brief mention of intoxication, rated M ✤ count: 6k+ ✤ [ ‘prologue’ of The Alderfell Chronicles ]

a/n - well this was suppose to be for Halloween and instead I’m using it as a belated birthday one(long)shot for our beloved Wooyoung. It’s my first member-centric piece that stemmed from me thinking about, “Why aren’t there many AUs for legendary beings like the Dullahan (Headless Horseman)?” Lo & behold the world of Alderfell was created and I do not regret it one bit. The only thing I regret is not having enough time to write this out as an on-going series, having to squeeze info/hints throughout this piece...so please excuse the weird jumps in timeline...about the characters’ lives and backstories. This is also my own twist on the concept of the Dullahan – they usually are depicted with a more sinister nature but my Dullahan is a good boi™. I do plan to re-visit every now and then, maybe to elaborate on certain origins or associated scenarios/blurbs. But for now, please enjoy reading about Wooyoung having the time of his life trying to settle down in a town that’s more than meets the eye and live to tell the tale of how he experienced first-hand a midnight stroll with a legend 💙 P.S. sentences in all italics are flashbacks! P.P.S. I would absolutely be keen to hear any thoughts/headcanons/speculations as to what you think is happening with each character or just about the world itself. See how many easter eggs you guys can find!

The balcony windows slammed opened as the intruding wind howled into the bedroom, drawing a shriek out of Wooyoung. In the unfortunate process of accidentally slamming his knee up to the escritoire with a startled jump, he helplessly watched as the ink jar tipped over a river of black onto his handwritten letter. Tugging at his coal black strands with a groan of frustration, he was soon reminded that the tempestuous rain had come in uninvited when the lamps and bronze candelabras started to quake.

Grumbling a string of curses under his breath, Wooyoung marched across the rosewood floor towards where the billowing ivory curtains were. They reached out to brush against his cheeks as he worked against the wind to quickly close the large windows. By the time he managed to secure the latches, his vision was dotted with rain droplets that splayed across his silver-rimmed round glasses.

Fumbling with the sleeves of his sleeping robe, Wooyoung lightly wiped the lenses clean whilst he made his way back to where the ruined letter laid. Staring at the mass of harsh ink smears across majority of the previously neat lines, he gingerly reached out to grab the papers.

Then came a soft knock on the door.

“Wooyoung, is everything alright?” a deep dulcet voice spoke from the other side.

“Y-Yes, I was jus– please, come in.”

Wooyoung turned to face the doorway just in time to see it swing open, revealing the ever empyreal-looking aristocratic owner of Rosentine Mansion where he was currently residing at. Adorned with a beige embroidered silk sleeping robe and a faint smile, Yeosang stepped soundlessly in to the room.

“Sorry if I disturbed your sleep, there was a bit of a mishap…” said Wooyoung, gesturing to the mess on the escritoire with a sheepish look. The windows started rattling once more which drew Yeosang’s attention towards the balcony.

“No need to worry. Was it the wind?” he asked, walking over with the intention to check the latches.

Wooyoung nodded, “it’s rather blustery tonight.”

Yeosang hummed as he peered through the curtains, looking out to the gloomy darkness where he could barely make out the glowing street lamps through the rain.

“The rain will pass after tonight, storms don’t tend to linger around here for too long. At least it’s cleared up the fog a little for now.”

An involuntary shudder went down Wooyoung’s spine at the mention of the fog. He quickly learnt within the first few days of his stay, more often than not, the streets became foggy after dusk once the sun has gone to slumber and the moon awakes. Wooyoung wasn’t fond of how his mind would wander to think of what might be lurking within the fog, and so he makes a conscious effort to never stare too long from his windows. Too afraid that one evening he might find fiendish eyes staring right back at him.

“You speak as if the weather has a mind of its own.”

“Oh? Have you never thought of that possibility before?”

The ambiguity of Yeosang’s smile certainly didn’t help Wooyoung in trying to decipher whether the aristocrat was being serious or not with that question. Then again, Wooyoung had somewhat gotten used to the eccentricity within the mansion; especially when his own cousin is just of that calibre along with the rest of the residents.

However everyone he’s met so far have been nothing short of pleasant and accommodating, even the brutally honest groundskeeper who was particularly protective over his fruit trees.

“Please let me know if you require any more candles.”

Wooyoung diverted his attention back to the present, only noticing then that Yeosang had gone round to dim the lights within the lamps.

“And…” pausing, Yeosang turned towards the half empty ink pot and stained papers, “Perhaps it’s best to leave that for tomorrow. You’re due to wake up at dawn if you wish to make it on time to Seonghwa’s shop, you know how he can be like with tardiness.”

“You’re right,” said Wooyoung, with a tired sigh.

“I’ll leave you to it then. Goodnight Wooyoung,” giving the room a once over and deeming nothing else was out of place, Yeosang left just as quietly as he arrived before.

“Goodnight Yeosang.”

That night, Wooyoung fell asleep under the comfort of his duvet on the 4-poster bed. Dreaming of flowing ink, swirling fog and the echoes of thunder from the depths of his mind.

“Do be careful Mr Jung!”

Wooyoung still wasn’t used to being addressed so formally by the townspeople, it wasn’t this sophisticated back at his previous home in Rookhaven. But he had no time to dwell on that as he hastily dusted the dirt off his taupe trousers and gave a courteous nod before continuing on with sprinting his way to the shop.

Cheeks tinged with a rosy hue and not just from the chilly air. After tripping and face-planting onto the gravel path right in front of the Mayor surely proved to be an embarrassing start to his morning. He raced past the magnificent fountain of the dancing naiads in the town square; where the granite sign that sat on the top tier engraved with bold letters of gold read; ‘ALDERFELL – welcome thee to a pleasant stay, otherwise be on your merry way.’

Tucked in the corner of Étoile Lane was Alderfell’s main apothecary shop that Wooyoung was headed towards. He entered through the back gates to ‘Drops of Aurora’ and almost immediately, the fluttering of wings reached his ears. Soon his shoulders were claimed as a perching spot by the shop’s inhabitants. Hummingbirds of sunset shades excitedly chirped their welcome, making Wooyoung giggle as he placed his leather satchel aside.

A few of them had already begun gathering his hair in a loose ponytail and looping a ribbon around it. The first time this ever happened he was left flabbergasted and didn’t quite know what to make of it. By now he’s accepted the hummingbirds were simply highly intelligent and perceptive.

Even if they had an odd glow around their forms.

When he brought it up with the Master Healer all he got was a teasing, “Shall I send for the oculist to come examine your glasses?”

Wooyoung huffed at the memory, taking out a glass vial from his satchel that was filled with light amber-coloured liquid. Grabbing one of the spare ceramic bowls from the shelves, he placed it by the window sill where the morning rays were slowly trickling in and poured out the liquid. The hummingbirds gave cheerful chirps and took turns taking sips of the sweet nectar that Wooyoung had harvested from the new batch of bell purple valdeisses.

Smiling fondly at the scene, he left them to their treat and went to grab his work apron off the wall hanger before walking through the connecting archway to the main section of the shop.

“Ah Wooyoung, nice to see you’ve made it.”

Wooyoung felt his soul jumped. Releasing a silent yell, he blinked owlishly at his mentor who was unexpectedly early and already pouring lavender tea into two vintage floral tea cups by the counter. His almost-silver hair that had been meticulously styled to one side, faintly glimmered under the light.

“Good morning Seonghwa, I’m sor–“

Wooyoung was interrupted by his own stomach letting out an unbashful rumble. There was silence, in which Wooyoung wanted nothing more than to disappear into the ground before deep chuckling filled the air.

“Oh my, did you skip out on breakfast my young apprentice?” asked Seonghwa, a knowing look in his glacial eyes.

“I may have woke up later than usual this morning…and rushed right out the door to get here.”

“You’re lucky that Hongjoong insisted I bring these along then,” Seonghwa pushed a brown paper bag across the counter towards Wooyoung. Inside was an assortment of berries and cream cheese pastries, still having that freshly-baked scent had Wooyoung salivating.

“He was in one of his baking moods and next thing I knew he whipped up half a dozen batch too many. As the saying goes…sharing is caring.”

“Thank you, please tell Hongjoong for me that I’m very thankful for this too!”

Wooyoung felt a warmth stirring within. Both from the fond expression his mentor displayed as he talked about his beloved and from the simple yet kind gesture of looking out for Wooyoung’s wellbeing.

The whimsical ambience of the shop continued for the rest of the morning, especially when the mellow sound of a piano came through the radio speakers. Seonghwa hummed along to the melody and footsteps swaying between the counter and shelves. Wooyoung tried not to snicker out loud and hid his grin behind the bunch of mountain ifliums that he was tasked with deseeding.

What a rare sight it was for him to see the softer side of his normally strict mentor.

“What happened to your previous apprentice?” Wooyoung remembered asking with curiosity. Wondering if it was the pressure of the work itself as he knew Seonghwa’s way of teaching left little room for play – only because the nature of being a healer required immense knowledge and skills that can’t simply be absorbed overnight. And Seonghwa expected no less than his best, pushing Wooyoung to where he knows his capabilities could take him to.

“This just wasn’t the place for them, which was a pity because they had potential…”

Wooyoung felt there were unspoken double meanings underneath that simple answer, but decided to not push for it. Instead he dedicated his time and energy in to learning when he found himself growing to genuinely enjoy this area of expertise. The move from his previous mundane life was unplanned but he didn’t regret taking up the opportunity; perhaps this was the change he never knew he needed, until now.

It was when a chime came from the tall grandfather clock at midday that the hummingbirds noisily came chittering and flapping their wings around the Master Healer and apprentice. Seonghwa had been demonstrating to Wooyoung how to finely slice evergreen opier roots for a healing elixir when they were interrupted by the commotion.

“Hush, one at a time. What’s all the fuss about?”

A marigold coloured hummingbird with speckled spots came to land on Seonghwa’s outstretch hand, some of the others making Wooyoung’s shoulders and head their perching spots once again. Wooyoung stared at his mentor who paid attention to the little bird’s rapid chirping, pondering if Seonghwa was a bird whisperer on the side or by some sorcery if he actually understood the bird.

Then the bell to the entrance jingled, effectively drawing everyone’s attention towards the doors.

“That must be our visitor, Wooyoung would you please let them in.”

Must be an important visitor if it had the hummingbirds excited, or so Wooyoung thought when he swung the dark oak doors open. Only to be met with an empty space, confusion taking over as he looked around.

A sharp yip caused him to cast his gaze downwards.

“Um…Seonghwa? There’s a….”

The little silver fox stared back up at Wooyoung, head tilting to the side and fluffy tail swishing lazily. It let out another sharp yip before proceeding to walk right through the entrance and in to the shop.

Wooyoung scrambled to move out of the way, still utterly confused but not wanting to risk unintentionally stepping on the creature…and was that an ornate scroll container slung around its body?

“Don’t be alarmed, this is one of the town’s messenger.”

What an odd term for a postman, if Wooyoung could even call it that. He watched the silver fox jump up lithely on to the stool and greedily took the chin scratches from Seonghwa before nudging the small container towards Seonghwa’s hands.

“Thank you for coming by to deliver this. Here, for your afternoon tea,” said Seonghwa, pinching one of the extra pastries and offering it to the silver fox. As it left ‘Drops of Aurora’ with its sweet snack, Wooyoung swore the creature winked at him right before it leapt back outside. He really hoped he wasn’t losing his mind already, closing the doors and rubbing his eyes at an attempt to calm his nerves from the small oddities he’s observed throughout the day so far.

He shuffled back over to where his mentor was already reading the paper parchment he retrieved from the container.

“Seonghwa, what’s The Twin Moons festival?” asked Wooyoung with curiosity, after taking a glance.

The sheer look of surprise and raising of eyebrows fleeted across Seonghwa’s face, entirely missed by Wooyoung since he still had his eyes on the parchment. To Seonghwa, the written text was common Elvish that he was fluent in understanding – but to anyone who Alderfell has yet to accept would’ve been foreign script.

And yet, Wooyoung was patiently waiting for an answer he shouldn’t even have known to inquire about in the first place.

Placing down the iron pot in the middle of the dining table, Wooyoung felt a great sense of achievement. The hearty venison stew with a mixture of herbs from Jongho’s garden (with his permission of course, Wooyoung wouldn’t risk the groundskeeper’s wrath) had steam rising and the aroma of spices, rosemary and juniper berries filled the room.

His cooking ability had grown immensely after his arrival, having found out that the mansion’s kitchen was hardly in use; simply putting it that –

“…there aren’t any ingredients? At all?”

“Well, nobody here really cooks.”

“How in the hell did you all survive till now?!”

Wooyoung took it upon himself to make sure that the pantry was stocked and everyone had some form of substantial food at least. Yeosang would remark that it’d give him an excuse to bring out the fancier gold plated cutlery sets since the whole group would gather together for dinner whenever Wooyoung cooked.

“Something smells delectable in here!” announced a tall figure with a cheery voice and an even cheerier smile.

Yeosang had just finished placing the last gold fork down when Yunho walked in to the dining room along with his fellow gentle giant, both already in their work attire and carrying over-cluttered folders. A careless yawn and the dishevelled fiery red hair gave a good indication that Mingi had just awoken from slumber. Wooyoung was aware that both worked predominantly throughout the night at Alderfell’s Observatory, hence their abnormal sleeping schedules. He once made a passing joke that Mingi could very well be a vampire with the rarity of seeing him during the daytime hours, which made Jongho snort and comment about the, “lack of imagination…such a cliché thought.”

A small basket of ruby red apples and plums was placed on the other side of table as everyone took their seats. “Been feeling rather generous lately and these were ripe for the picking,” said Jongho casually, subtly puffing his chest out.

“Aww, he really does have a heart after all.”

“I will not hesitate to leave the cheese in your room again and let the remu– I mean rats find their way to it.”

“You wouldn’t…Yeosang would never allow you to do something so cruel!”

“Please do not involve me in this.”

The high-pitched laughter escaped Wooyoung’s mouth and he held his sides for support. The light-hearted bickering reminded him of his family back home and how boisterous the atmosphere would get. It made him smile till his cheeks hurt because in good company, he felt less alone.

“We should start eating before the stew gets cold, wouldn’t want Wooyoung’s hard work go to waste now would we?”

Among the clinking of cutlery against ceramic bowls, Wooyoung heard his name being called by Yunho, “Oh! Before I forget…these are for you. Yeosang mentioned you needed new paper to finish your letter and I have abundant in stacks lying around for the taking. I’ll be sending mail back to my family too, would you like for me to post yours off tomorrow morning?”

Wooyoung’s mind reeled back to the previous night’s mishap and promptly made a mental note to rewrite the letter after dinner. Or else his mother would surely worry her way into bombarding Yunho next with letters about her son’s lack of response. Wooyoung felt that same warmth from before engulfing his heart and starts to think, as he reached out with grateful hands, that maybe he’s found his new home here after all.

The Twin Moons festival turned out to be longer than just a day’s worth of celebration, rather it went on for two whole weeks. Wooyoung had been slightly overwhelmed at the start, even more so when visitors from smaller neighbouring towns poured in for the festivities. Alderfell came alive at night where Wooyoung got to witness the unveiling of the moons as the clouds parted and stars shone like little diamonds bedazzling the darkened sky.

“Yeosang! Look at the colour!”

And what Wooyoung found more astounding than the two giant azure orbs up above was that Yeosang had voluntarily left the mansion to accompany him down to the festival. He’s never really seen Yeosang leave the grounds of the mansion, unless he’s done so whenever Wooyoung had been at work, so being able to spend time with him outside was an enjoyable change. Wooyoung saw a couple of familiar faces in the crowds, notably Hongjoong who provided music for the townspeople; skilled fingers flying across the keys of the piano situated under the elegant gazebo and sweet low suave tunes enticed the crowd to slow dance the night away.

He could definitely see how Seonghwa became so enamoured with Hongjoong in the first place. If his charismatic presence wasn’t a big enough charm already than his music from the soul certainly was the final hook.

On the 3rd day, Wooyoung found out about the significance of moonflowers and why the entire town was decorated with them.

“Has anyone told you of Alderfell’s legend yet? It’s said that this land used to be occupied by the King’s bravest knights who defended against intruders. The fiercest knight left standing fought battle after battle, even after his head fell. Now in spirit, that same knight continues to guard this town. Rumour has it that in the wee hours of midnight you may hear the galloping of hooves in the distance or even catch a glimpse of a rider cloaked in black on a crimson-eyed noble steed if you’re courageous enough to venture out to the woodlands. The moonflowers we display are a tribute for our guardian!”

By the end of that Wooyoung was left with a copious amount of words to process and a, “…to guard this town from what?” at the tip of his tongue.

It wasn’t till the 10th day that Wooyoung got a cryptic answer of sorts to his question. Yunho and Mingi decided it was their turn to take Wooyoung down to the town square for the night, Yeosang opting to stay back at the mansion. They even managed to rope Jongho along who easily became distracted by the wood chopping competition and didn’t hesitate to sign up for it. Yunho introduced Wooyoung a local favourite drink, Duchess’ Crystal, which was a crystal clear liquid with an iridescent tinge and tasted like extremely sweetened blueberries. However there was a sting similar to that of drinking vodka when it hit the back of his throat.

Well into the night, a happy buzz tingling all over, Wooyoung asked Yunho what Alderfell was being guarded from.

“Oh my dear cousin, why there are many things! From deep within the woods, crooks and crannies…foul beasts that roam…fiends that lure with deceitful mimicry” Yunho spoke with a dramatic air.

Mingi slung an arm around Wooyoung’s shoulders, having gotten bolder with affection the more he drank. “Just remember this – do not always trust the voice that calls your name especially if you hear the clicking. Do not turn around, do not look and if by heavens’ grace you get a chance to…run!” he whispered to Wooyoung.

As inebriate as Wooyoung might have been in the moment, the chilling message stuck firm with him since. Logic scoffed at the ridiculous elaboration, yet intuition told him to take heed of this warning.

Fate sure had a peculiar way of working and Alderfell decided it was time for the final mask to be taken off.

“Oh shit…shit…bloody hell...” Wooyoung muttered like a mantra with each hasty step he took along the dirt pathway through the woodlands. He had spent all afternoon collecting medicinal herbs, mushrooms and flowers to restock some of Seonghwa’s ingredient jars that he completely lost track of time. Straying quite a distance inside where the rarer plants were found in abundance meant being able to fill his basket to the brim; though at the cost of how far he was from the safety of the town’s borders.

The sun was beginning to dip real low and Wooyoung could only hope that he’d reach back before the last sunray disappeared below the horizon.

He most certainly did not miss the fog that was currently creeping over the ground steadily chasing after his feet. Much to his delight there was the absence of it during the entirety of the time when the Twin Moons reigned the nights. Nerves were settled then but now, alone and stuck outside past the curfew set him right on edge.

Wooyoung held the basket closer and concentrated on moving forwards, refusing to allow his eyes to waver from the path ahead. The woods became eerily still and silence encompassed his surroundings, save for the crunching of leaves under his leather boots. Any other day he’d welcome the tranquillity with open arms. At present he was desperate for sound, for anything to drive away the feeling of being watched.

“I just hope someone will continue to feed the darling cat if I were to meet my demise here…” Wooyoung mumbled out loud, trying to elevate some of the tension by attempting to make light of his current predicament. He would miss the cat with gorgeous cerulean eyes that’s taken a liking to accompany him on the walk back to the mansion after work. It took him almost a solid week of many fresh salmon slices, sweet praises and patience to befriend the feline.

Just as the last light started to dwindle, Wooyoung finally caught sight of the familiar large wooden gate that he entered from. To hell with the uneven ground and risks of rolling ankles, Wooyoung was about to take off sprinting the last leg of the pathway.

“Wooyoung?”

He halted in his movement so abruptly that he nearly toppled over. The sudden voice that cut right through the silence took him by surprise.

“Seongh–“

Wooyoung paused from turning around to the sound of his mentor’s voice. Wait a minute…there had to be a mistake; Wooyoung knew for a fact that Seonghwa was out of town with Hongjoong and wasn’t due back till tomorrow. So why was he suddenly hearing…

“Do not always trust the voice that calls your name!” rang loudly in his mind.

His stomach dropped, limbs locked and frozen as sheer dread filled his veins.

And then he heard it.

Clicking.

Almost like sharp thin nails against glass, a heavy drag also followed. Conjuring up an image in Wooyoung’s mind – a mass of broken bones moving in unison, grating disjointed parts and the snapping of unhinged jaws at irregular intervals.

“Wooyoung.”

Came Yunho’s voice this time, luckily not sounding right from behind Wooyoung but not too far off either. The time he spent staring at the ground as he internally willed his body to move, he took notice of how thick the fog had become.

Each second that ticked by the clicking became louder and each time a different voice from someone he knew within Alderfell called his name. A part of him wanted to haul rocks whatever cursed being it was, angry that it had the audacity to mimic his friends with sinister intentions. But that would require turning around and he remembers, as clear as day, Mingi’s warning to not look.

At all.

The mimicry itself was perfect, however it felt off.

When the raspy breathing and rancid stench of decay hit his senses, his body jolted and legs broke out of its frozen state.

“RUN!”

An inhumane wail unleashed that made the hairs on the back of his neck stand. Which was more than enough for Wooyoung’s survival instincts to take off, kicking up the dirt and leaving the monstrosity behind. He could hardly see where his boot-clad feet landed as he sprinted, moonlight only being able to guide him where the fog hasn’t consumed. But he couldn’t care less so long as the distance between him and the wooden gate was diminishing.

Much to his dismay, it sounded like he was being followed as the clicking of bones were sent into a manic state and getting louder. Wooyoung yelled his throat hoarse, weaving in-between the trees and he was oh so close to grabbing the sturdy gate to leap over…

He lost his footing and fell, dropping the basket (he miraculously still had in his hold all this time) in the process. Something was painfully squeezing his right ankle. Looking downwards he had to bring a hand to cover his mouth, bile rising and threatening to spill at the sight. A solemn grey coloured…hand…if Wooyoung could even call it that, with unnaturally long spindly fingers each had unforgivingly sharp bone white talons protruding out from their joints.

“WOOYOUNG, HELP ME.”

“NO! STOP, GET THE HELL OFF ME!”

Wooyoung was blindly kicking in the direction of the ‘Yeosang’ voice that wailed, feeling the crooked fingers clamped down harder and he was pretty certain it was going to leave a nasty bruise for days. Too focused on trying to get his feet out of the creature’s vice grip he didn’t pick up on a distinct neigh and sound of hooves charging across the ground.

It all came at a blur for Wooyoung.

One minute he was thrashing about and then he was sailing through the air, having been flung by a mighty force. Luck was still on his side when his landing was cushioned by a pile of foliage. His ankle freed from the death trap.

“Be gone, you vile creature. Go back to the depths of the Abyss from which you came!” a disembodied voice bellowed through the woods.

Wooyoung’s eyes was on high alert for he did not recognise the commanding voice. He rolled over to his side where he heard metallic sounds and piercing screeches of a battle unfolding.

He swore upon the heavens for the second time that night. Not entirely sure if he was stuck in a twisted dream or that Alderfell’s legend was far more real than fantasy.

“I ought to start believing in ghost stories…”

Wooyoung watched as the headless rider strike his luminous blade fiercely down on the creature. One of its several elongated limbs made a clawed swipe at the rider’s steed, to which the shadowy stallion reared defensively on hind legs. Using the window of opportunity, the creature dashed in an attempt to flee though it didn’t make it very far.

“Close your eyes.”

The voice returned with a firm yet gentler undertone. It took Wooyoung a whole 30 seconds to realise that the instruction was directed at him and he followed right through; knowing enough to not question a legendary figure who had just saved his life. In the few milliseconds before he blocked out the view entirely, he witnessed the rider’s hands being engulfed in purple flames along with his sword, the blade itself unlocking in sections and extending to resemble more of a whip.

There was a cacophony of metal crushing bone, wail-screeches filling up Wooyoung’s eardrums, a sudden searing heat blowing against his skin and the reciting of an ancient language before silence took over again.

Wooyoung let out a deep breath.

He was alive, he was breathing and his heart still beating.

Just to be cautious he peeked one eye open, deeming it was safe to open the other and shook his head slightly to re-focus his sight in the dark. The headless rider stood by what Wooyoung assumed was the monster from before, now nothing more than a crumbling husk. Small purple embers ate away at it sending bits of ash floating off into the empty air.

Now under the spotlight of the moon, Wooyoung could get a better look at the headless rider. He was expecting a gory wound where the head was meant to be, instead black smoky tendrils coiled calmly in place. A heavy-duty cloak sat upon lightweight armour, leather gloves, pants and sabatons all of which were in an obsidian black. Wooyoung thought the rider would’ve looked rather regal, headless or not.

The stallion let out a low grunt signalling a reminder that they still had company.

Wooyoung stumbled to his feet, wincing slightly at his swollen ankle, when the headless rider sheathed the sword and turned to make his way towards the young healer apprentice. The sea of fog seemed to part and retreat wherever the headless rider stepped.

Up close both figures seemed to tower over Wooyoung but he didn’t shrink back in fear. Not when the stallion with mounted spiked armour and glowing crimson eyes stared into his soul nor when the headless rider quietly regarded him in his formidable presence. They didn’t pose a threat…or at least Wooyoung didn’t feel like they did.

“Your leg…is it hurting?”

So he had noticed Wooyoung keeping his weight off his right side

Now that the headless rider wasn’t fending off terror entities, he spoke in a warmer honeyed voice. Another aspect Wooyoung wasn’t expecting of the mythical figure. He could imagine the rider’s head tilting down to survey his leg as he asked the question.

“Ah…yeah, my ankle’s not in the best shape at the moment.”

The headless rider descended down on one knee and held out a gloved hand towards Wooyoung’s right foot.

“May I?”

Wooyoung mutely nodded and balancing on his left foot, he allowed the headless rider to hold his other to inspect the injury. The same hands that wielded a sword to slay were handling Wooyoung with utter care.

“It doesn’t seem to be broken, but best to get it treated soon. Come.”

A confused noise escaped Wooyoung when the headless rider beckoned him closer to the saddle.

“You came from Alderfell did you not?”

Another nod.

“It’ll be much quicker to return by horse than on feet, these woods aren’t safe at this hour…as you now are well aware of.”

Wooyoung felt bewildered. Only just a week ago, he found out about the legendary Dullahan and now said legend was planning to stroll through town to escort him back?

“Are you allowed to?” was what Wooyoung wanted to ask, instead he settled for, “But you don’t even know where in Alderfell I live.”

An amused chuckle resounded all around.

“I trust that you ought to know the way back home, little healer. You’ll be my guide for tonight.”

Wooyoung gawked at where the smoky tendrils were intertwining together, not doubt there was a grin hidden somewhere in there.

How did the headless rider know about Wooyoung’s connection with healer’s work? How was he being so…nonchalant about, well everything? Was he always this approachable towards other townspeople that may have encountered him? Did they even know that Alderfell’s legend actually exists? Questions upon questions that Wooyoung would demand answers for if he wasn’t already so drained from his near-death experience. Should he ever get the chance to meet his saviour again, he’d pester him about it then.

For now, Wooyoung was ready to head back home.

‘Is the legend really true?”

“Might I ask you to please clarify, which part of?”

“You being a knight…and that you’ve been guarding this town, or rather, land since you lost…your…”

“My head? You’re allowed to say that, I take no offence. After all I’ve had a century or two to get used to this new form.”

“Wow, you’re practically an ancient!”

“I’ll take that as a compliment. To answer your question, yes. It seems like even after death, my guardianship of this land still remains.”

“…The thing, back from before…is that the reason why Alderfell has the curfew?”

“There are others besides Hollowsworns that come from The Abyss to hunt after dark. The curfew is a precaution. Alderfell has its own ways–powerful ways–to protect its people.”

“Like yourself?”

“You could say that.”

“You truly are the bravest. Do you have a name Sir Knight?”

The shadowy stallion let out a loud snort.

“So are you, and apologies for not introducing myself sooner. You may call me San, Choi San.”

“You have my deepest gratitude for saving my life Sir Choi. My name’s Jung Wooyoung!”

“Just…San is quite enough, Wooyoung. You’re very welcome.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. Is it because it makes you sound old?”

To say the residents back at Rosentine Mansion were worrying their heads off was an understatement. Yunho was ready to lead a search party out for Wooyoung even if it meant breaking the rules. Jongho argued that was a counterproductive plan since no one knew exactly where Wooyoung had even wandered off to.

“What if something were to happen to you? That’ll be another added issue!” With Seonghwa being absent, they couldn’t turn to their level-headed elder for help.

It was a painful waiting game.

When the clopping of hooves and spectral guardian came into view from the porch, both Yeosang and Jongho instantaneously leapt up from where they had been sitting on the stairs.

“Yunho! Mingi! Get out here now, Wooyoung’s back!” hollered Jongho, sticking his head through the front door.

Meanwhile Yeosang had ran down ahead, oil lamp swinging in his hand, to fling open the front gates.

“Is he…?!”

“He’s safe, just in slumber. Understandably so.”

Wooyoung had fallen asleep against San’s chest on the ride back, head cradled under where San’s chin would’ve been and letting out soft snores.

“OH THANK MIHTOS!”

“HE’S ALIVE!’

“Shush! Or do you want to wake up the entire town?”

Jongho and Yunho managed to squeeze past Yeosang out on to the street. They worked to slowly lift Wooyoung’s sleeping form off the saddle and into Yunho’s arms so he could carry him back inside. San untied Wooyoung’s basket (that he made sure to recover, “I worked hard and nearly died for those!”) from his saddle bag and passed it over to Mingi.

Everyone thanked San profusely, Jongho even sneaking an apple from his pocket to feed the stallion which bowed in appreciation.

“San…”

The small whine ceased the group’s chatter, all eyes turned towards the figure curled up in Yunho’s arms. One of Wooyoung’s arm reached out languidly for San’s gloved ones. The Dullahan reciprocated to envelop Wooyoung’s hand with his.

“…thank you, again”

“Sleep well Wooyoung, may dreams allow you to rest properly tonight,” San responded softly with a light squeeze to Wooyoung’s hand.

Mingi followed Yunho back inside to help him get Wooyoung to bed while Jongho and Yeosang stayed to see San off.

“He can hear me, just like you two.”

“Who’s looking forward to seeing Seonghwa’s face tomorrow when he returns and learn of what’s happened?”

“I’m relieved that Wooyoung is here to stay, I’m growing rather fond of the young mister.”

“Do prepare Wooyoung for the discussion...”

“More like a history lesson!”

“...and please check on his ankle as soon as you can, the Hollowsworn got there before I did.”

San waited till Yeosang and Jongho disappeared behind the mansion doors before manoeuvring the reigns of his horse back in the direction he came from. It has been an eventful night and the Dullahan was intrigued by the young apprentice. There was much more to Jung Wooyoung than meets the eye – much like Alderfell and he hoped to cross paths with him soon again.

A purr stopped San and his steed in their tracks.

“There you are my dear, so this is where you’ve roamed to.”

A gloved hand patted at the rear and the cerulean-eyed cat claimed the spot on the horseback, nestling comfortably behind its master.

Somewhere else in a well-kept tomb beneath the winged stone sculpture, a dimpled smile forms on a serene face resting on a pillow of moonflowers. The head lets out a contented sigh.

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