#fic: what was hidden

[daechwitatamic]

What Was Hidden Masterpost || KTH

(banner by @itaeewon)

Title: What Was Hidden

Status: Complete - all chapters posted

Word Count: 80k total

Rating: explicit, minors DNI pls

Genre: college!au, heavy on the angst, eventual smut, strangers to friends to lovers to idiots to lovers again

Pairings: Taehyung x female reader, MYG x OC

Summary:  This is how it all starts: Taehyung is flunking Western Lit. You're assigned to tutor him. His paper on Strindberg's The Ghost Sonata could pass or fail him for the semester. As you and Taehyung slowly become friends, then more, you learn that there's a lot more to him than you originally assumed. Together, you navigate your own experiences with the play’s themes: one's "true self" versus one's "shown self", darkness behind the facade, and how people can be quite literally haunted - and it has nothing to do with ghosts.

Note: A million thank-you's to @kookstempo for being a sharp beta, a selfless cheerleader, and an amazing friend. This straight up would not exist without her. Any happy scene in here exists solely because of the ideas and support she gave me. Her work is also super brilliant and generally happier (but not always... looking at u, SSSA) than mine, so if you need to recover from the angst I throw at you, her masterlist is here!

A second thank you to @pamzn just for putting up with me along the way. You may not have known it but your constant curiosity about the project was SO motivating and this wouldn't be here without you either. A billion kisses 4 u.

I saw the sun and thought I saw

what was hidden.

The Ghost Sonata | Scene III

August Strindberg

Chapter 1: Interesting Spider Facts | WC: 5k

-> Steps: POV #1

Chapter 2: Pride | WC: 4.6k

-> Just a Little: POV #2

Chapter 3: That's Life | WC: 5k

-> Minefield: POV #3

-> Broken Glass: POV #4

Chapter 4: What's Actually There | WC: 6k

-> Starting to Learn You: POV #5

-> Not Afraid to Lie: POV #6

Chapter 5: Childish | WC: 3.8k

Chapter 6: Other Storms | WC: 4k

Chapter 7: Conflicted | WC: 6k

Chapter 8: Context | WC: 4k

Chapter 9: Really Sure | WC: 5k

Chapter 10: Encouraging | WC: 7k

Chapter 11: Home | WC: 4.7k

Chapter 12: Guilt | WC: 5k

Chapter 13: Cowardly | WC: 3.9k

Chapter 14: Poisonous | WC: 6.5k

-> Sure of It: POV #7

Chapter 15: Other Storms {Reprise} | WC: 4.5k

Chapter 16: Worth It | WC: 4.5k

Sequel: The Forgotten Spaces by @oddinary4bts

The Forgotten Spaces picks up about two weeks after the end of What Was Hidden and follows Jungkook's journey forward

#taehyung angst #taehyung smut #college au #taehyung x reader #taehyung fic #s2l #taehyung fanfic #strangers to lovers #v smut #slow burn #bts fanfic #bts fic #taehyung romance #taehyung x you #kim taehyung fic #kim taehyung fanfic #fic: what was hidden

[kookstempo]

what was hidden - moodboard

in honor of my beautiful jo's fic (what was hidden)

go read her amazing writing. <3 @daechwitatamic

#darling jo tag #fic: what was hidden #moodboard

[pamzn]

🎅🏼 Ho ho ho

OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG!!!!!

#fic: what was hidden #it's out #daechwitatamic

[joehawke]

idk why this just popped into my head, but thinking about Steve who’s actually insanely smart, he always got straight A’s in school and the whole “dumb jock” was just a stereotype that Steve got stuck under and just never tried to prove wrong. Who cared whether or not he was actually smart? So he just played along. (Besides, it was an in to flirt with the girls; to pretend like he didn’t know what he was doing.) His parents had him tutored since he was old enough to count on his fingers, and sure it was exhausting, but it was something he was good at. Math, reading, science, it all came easy to him. He liked being able to impress the people around him. When he got involved with the upside down, the one thing that didn’t crumble around him was his studies. He was determined to make his parents proud. When it was time to send out all his college applications, his parents hadn’t returned home in months and by the time he heard back from the schools the upside down was worse than it’s ever been and it just wasn’t a concern anymore. So Steve stuffed the enveloped futures away. He had completely forgot about them. Until now.

It’s been a month since Hawkins cracked open. Max and Eddie both have been discharged from the hospital, on strict rehabilitation protocols. Because Wayne still had to work despite the government hush money, Steve decided it was best for Eddie to stay with him. Besides, the house is quiet and lonely, why not put it to good use? Steve had been downstairs frying eggs on a pan when Eddie came bounding around the corner clutching a stack of opened envelopes. He looked confused.

“What’s wrong Eds? What are those?” Steve asked, and when Eddie started rifling through the envelopes Steve caught the slightest sight of his school symbols. His heart dropped. “Eddie it’s not -“

“Harvard, Princeton, Yale, Columbia -“ Eddie starts naming off as he rifles through each envelope.

“Eddie.”

“You got into them all Steve. There’s like 10 different top notch schools here that you got into. Why has no one heard about this? And why are they stuffed in a drawer?”

“Because I’m not going” Steve says simply, like it was the easiest decision to make.

“What? What the fuck do you mean you’re not going?” Eddie asks appalled. And Steve gets why, he does, but he’s also determined to stand his ground.

“Why does it matter? I’m not going” Steve pouts, crossing his arms.

“Stevie. Did your parents pay for you to get in or something? Did they use the Harrington name you hate so much? There’s gotta be a reason you won’t go besides just being a stubborn asshole” and Steve gets why he‘a asking, and he’s never been hurt by it, but part of Steve flinches at the fact that Eddie couldn’t believe that Steve got in on his own account.

“No. It doesn’t matter, can we just drop it?”

“No. No we can’t. Do you know how badly I would KILL to get into any school, let alone an IVY. This is incredible Steve.” Eddie states, padding closer into the kitchen and Steve has to hold back a laugh at his rabbit slippers.

“I can’t go” Steve says quietly, turning away from Eddie and back to the stove where the eggs are starting to burn.

“Why though? Can you tell me that much?” Eddie asks, matching Steve’s soft tone.

“Because I have to be here. I have to be here incase Vecna isn’t really gone. Incase the kids need me. Incase Robin needs me. I can’t just leave…” Steve says, turning back towards Eddie to look at him before turning back towards the burnt eggs.

“Stevie. They’ll be fine. When are you gonna put yourself first sweetheart? I need a valid reason why you’re staying and I’ll drop it, because these aren’t -“

“Because you’re here!” Steve yells, turning back towards Eddie. Steve watches as Eddie’s lips part ever so slightly as his breath hitches before he continues. “When I got accepted into those schools the people who I did that for weren’t here anymore and fucking Henry Creel apparently was more prominent than ever, and the kids needed someone to take a hit and someone to protect them and Robin was here and she was the first person to care about me and what would that say about me if I left? And eventually those stupid schools were the furthest thing from my mind and then I thought about maybe going, maybe getting away from this hell… you came along and I couldn’t. I couldn’t leave you Eddie. With the regards of sounding cheesy, you carved a spot into my heart along side those bat bites and how was I supposed to just let you go after that?” Steve’s out of breath, and tears are starting to gather at his waterline, but he doesn’t care because Eddie is looking at him like he hung the sun and the moon and the stars and he remembers why he stays. And when Eddie’s lips collide with his own, he thinks he found home.

“We’re not done talking about this” Eddie says, and Steve chuckles as Eddie dives back in.

#idk what this is #I just like smart Steve #I take that back #I just like Steve who has a hidden talent #I just like Steve #stranger things #steve harrington #steddie #steve stranger things #eddie munson #steve x eddie #robin buckley #eddie stranger things #steve harrington has bad parents #steddie drabble #Steddie fic idea #Steddie ficlet

[teecupangel]

Bayek meeting Desmond?

Like, Desmond gets transported back to Egyptian times and becomes a merchant or protector of some small town, and Bayek comes waltzing through.

They meet and Desmond (who may be a bit thick) doesn't connect the Hidden Ones/Assassin/Medjay relationship. And Bayek just sees this guy who might be Greek and obviously isn't Egyptian protecting this small Egyptian town. Chaos ensues.

Romance may bloom?

It would be possible for Desmond to not put two and two together because he’s never even heard of the Hidden Ones and only saw Amunet’s statue as a ‘proto-Assassin’.

There’s also this sense of loyalty he feels towards the ‘Assassin Brotherhood’ as a title because of his Bleed of Altaïr.

As far as he knows, their Creed started with the Brotherhood.

And the Hidden Ones do their best to stay out of sight after what had happened before in Sinai.

It also helps that the small town he decided to dig his roots in was an out of the way peaceful town.

They rarely get visitors and, even when they do, those people turn out to either be a relative of one or more of the townspeople or a traveler who got lost.

Desmond got a small house with a small plot of land that can be converted to farmland by saving the son of the village chief who had been chased by a pack of wild animals and had to climb a tree in fear.

Desmond had just been passing by, debating if he should try his luck in going to what would later be called Levant or to just… stop somewhere and try to build a life there.

He was so tired.

So very tired.

And the people of the town had been kind to him. They didn’t ask why he was traveling all by himself.

They even stopped asking about his past after Desmond told them it was a ‘not a kind one’.

And now, here he was…

Working on his farm using the knowledge he had from the small farm that the Farm had, the books Altaïr and Ezio had read during their lifetime about agriculture and the tips and suggestions from his neighbors and fellow townspeople.

And one day…

He appears.

Bayek of Siwa.

He calls himself a traveler.

A few drinks later and he admits to being the last Medjay, traveling the lands to ensure its peace and to help those who need a hand.

Desmond had simply been in the village’s house with most of the men because they wished to present a united front in front of a traveler armed to the teeth.

Desmond saw his missing ring finger and thought of it as a coincidence.

Then…

Their paths intersect once more while Desmond was out in the wilderness near the town, bow in hand and quiver filled with arrows to hunt.

They met by accident and Bayek admits that he heard there were ruins nearby.

Desmond heard the tale, of course.

An ancient city, deep underground, holding the ground from caving in and burying everything with strong stable pillars too many to count.

Desmond has heard of the tales.

And he knew the name.

To be more exact…

His Bleed of Altaïr knew of the name…

Imar.

The fabled City of Pillars.

He also knows that this city was supposed to be somewhere in Levant or near Levant, not here in Egypt.

The tale the villagers would tell their children was that it wasn’t a city.

It was an underground road that would lead to the fabled city.

Desmond never saw anything, not even his Eagle Vision could find anything of interest in this town or anywhere nearby.

The most interesting thing his Eagle Vision had pinged was the gold in the village chief’s house and that was actually the chest where he stored the funds he would use to maintain the towns’ buildings and roads.

But if this man believes he can find that city then Desmond felt the need to follow him.

Because if there really was an underground city or a road that would lead to it nearby?

That could only mean…

There was an Isu facility nearby.

… and perhaps a POE as well.

.

.

.

Cue a DLC-length storyline of Bayek looking for an underground city with a mysterious young man who seems to embody the core principles of a Hidden One.

#desmond doesn’t have a hidden blade #otherwise bayek would be super sus of him already #desmond doesn’t recognize bayek’s hidden blade #because (1) he uses his sword and shield most of the time and #(2) bayek’s hidden blade look a lot like a normal gauntlet in desmond’s eyes #this is after the main story and dlcs #so that bayek and aya have both moved on #ask and answer #what do we call this? #baymond #baydes #XD #assassin's creed #desmond miles #bayek of siwa #teecup writes/has a plot #fic idea: assassin's creed

[gentrychild]

I want to know more about Anyone!All Might. His characterisation has a very different take given he doesn't have Izuku. Would it be okay to share how would he react if he knew Izuku (faked) died?

Honestly? Deep down, he would be pissed. Like, obviously, he would get sad about Izuku's death, because it was a misguided child who tried to be a hero, and heartbroken that OFA is gone. But deep down? He would be enraged that this dumbass kid stole OFA only to get killed by a two-bits serial killer a couple of months afterwards. He isn't proud of it, he wouldn't admit it but I know all.

#More seriously he would have a lot of guilt about Izuku's death. Part of him would feel responsible. #He should have taken the time to modulate his answer instead of telling him the cold harsh truth one day where he was depressed and in abso #ute pain #He should have taken the time to know Izuku if only to find him again. He shouldn't have let him steal OFA. He should have found him sooner #Which means he is in the PERFECT headspace to adopt what he suspects to be a hidden Shimura family member! #anyone: faked death edition #anyone fic

[the-modern-typewriter]

Do you do any hidden injury snippets?

"You're wounded."

The protagonist glanced over at the comment - pitched low, so nobody else would overhear them. Their throat locked tight.

There was no question in the ex-antagonist's words, nor in their stare. They knew.

The protagonist tried to think when the ex-antagonist might had seen, when they'd been so careless. Did everyone know? Did their friends know? They tried to think of a good way to deny it.

The antagonist shrugged at them, over the campfire. "I know when you're in pain," the little sadist said, peaceful enough, though with that glint in their eyes. "You can't hide it from me."

The protagonist's jaw clenched.

"Don't worry," the ex-antagonist said. "I won't tell anyone. At least, not unless I think you're going to get in the way of the mission."

"I'm fine." It came out sharp.

People glanced over at them.

The ex-antagonist raised an eyebrow, somewhere between amused and judgy. The protagonist was many, many things. Stubborn, practical, especially skilled at compartmentalising. They were not fine.

"I'm fine," the protagonist said, a little quieter. Their cheeks would have heated if they had enough blood in them. They pressed a protective hand over their chest, over their injury.

"You will be if you let me take a look at it."

"And why would you want to do that?"

"So I can poke where it hurts and watch you try not to scream."

When the protagonist didn't particularly react to that statement, except to give the ex-antagonist a withering look, their ex enemy sighed.

"I'm an expert at dark magic. The wound itself isn't that bad, or you wouldn't still be standing, but you're also clearly..." The ex-antagonist trailed off.

"Clearly what?"

The ex-antagonist shrugged again. "I'm an expert at dark magic," they said, once more. "It would be very inconvenient if, having been nicked by a tainted blade, you hallucinated in the night and slaughtered our entire party. Well. Your friends, anyway."

The protagonist's heart stuttered. "Because I wouldn't be able to take you?"

"Not in your current state."

The protagonist wanted to snarl, but to snarl was to admit too many other things, so they glared at the fire instead.

"Do the others know?" they asked, eventually.

"No."

"Because you're just that observant."

The antagonist smiled, scalpel thin. "Only when it comes to people being hurt, love. To you. Being hurt."

The protagonist swallowed. The hidden injury in their chest gave another nasty throb beneath the bandages.

Was the ex-antagonist right, when they spoke about dark magic? It was true that the protagonist had felt...off, since they'd received the wound. The wound hadn't seemed infected or anything though. And it wasn't large enough to kill them. Right?

"I'm fine," the protagonist said, again, and pushed to their feet. "Mind your own business. I'll get the job done."

"Mm," the ex-antagonist said, watching them. "I give it about twenty four hours."

"Then we don't have time to waste, do we?" It came out a definite snarl. A hiss. Some wild, dangerous thing at any rate. It was true, though - they had no time. If they stopped to rest, to recover, then they might miss their chance. The villain would win.

"You are planning to survive this battle, aren't you?"

The question was quiet. It was, through some terrible miracle, a question.

The protagonist looked back at the ex-antagonist, and feared what their old enemy might see on their face. The ex-antagonist stared back at them, something odd on their face.

The protagonist opened their mouth to speak. Closed it. Then, in the end, they walked away.

When they woke up, their party's healer was sitting next to them, looking unbelievably cross.

And they knew, then, that for whatever reason the antagonist had tol, after all.

Bastard.

#writing #story #hidden injury #idk #it is what is #fic #fiction #creative writing #writeblr #writers of tumblr #antagonist #protagonist #dialogue #short story #writing snippet #story snippet

[laurelnose]

Sylvia Legris is a plenty successful poet as is but I do feel that she should have more Tumblr cachet. Like. Locked Tomb girlies look at these bone verses

Details of Articulated Skeletons, c. 1510

Memento marrow. The treacherous thread of the unnamed. The flourish-stripped reunion of broken parts.

The polymathematician (the osteo-horoscopist) plumbs the anonymous bones, the forlorn unspoken-for. Lead white, bianco di piombo, the poisonous orbit. An algebraic

of discrete desecration. Cancellous bone, cortical bone, an innominately rising hip bone. The acrimonious split of the acromion from the scapular spine. Explode the view . . .

Exploit the post-medieval zodiac. A moon-distending thorax; the gibbosity of the humeral head. The anteriorly tilting ascent of the pelvic girdle. False false ribs and the acute

angle of descent of rib one and rib two. Memento mori. Woe betide the Renaissance bonesetter. Bone-beset.

#all of Hideous Hidden is so good but the Midwinter the Cut-Time section is just. i love it SO fucking much #more than i can articulate. you know how it is. read the poetry that's the explanation you get it or you don't #i rank the collections Hideous Hidden > Nerve Squall > Garden Physic > Circuitry of Veins #Nerve Squall you can tell she hasn’t quite hit her style stride yet like she has in Hidden #but i prefer it to Garden Physic just bc aesthetically Garden leans much more heavily on herbalism and the plant organ #than either Nerve Squall or Hidden. and you know me. all organs are good but I prefer the bleeding kind #i am simply not really the intended audience for Circuitry of Veins tho' i do like many bits of it #and i don't have a copy of iridium veins or pneumatic antiphonal yet... but someday... #laurelnose.txt #poetry #(im going to title a MoE fic ‘an algebraic of discrete desecration’ one of these days and itll be about exactly what u might expect)

[cloysterbell]

ok you can’t say you’ve been rereading all of your favorite merthur fics from 2013 and NOT tell us which ones. drop the fics kyle

to the world that never let you be - ImperialMint

Anatomy of a King - professortennant

How It Will Be - Trojie

Hidden Light - Destina

Para Bellum - Destina

Down by the River - bleedforyou1

I also do have a list of fics that I was keeping over on my old Merlin blog. I can't currently vouch for most of these as I haven't reread them yet AND because I was a different person when I put this together (read: 21 years old), but it's still potentially worth perusing

#questionbell #anonymous #to the world that never let you be and down by the river are two of my favorite fics of all time #also i had tagged hidden light on ao3 as 'the one with the lake' which is funny because i do in fact remember exactly what that means #what's crazy though is how much of my music taste was inspired by the fics i read and their titles #i'd forgotten that

[ramiliadoesstuff]

The guy who hates on Yunelle logged in to ao3 so for the sole reason to be able to read my hidden Yunelle fic and shit on it 😭😭

Y’all I’m seriously laughing 😂 some people have too much time and energy to waste on stupid shit 😂

And it’s that DailyAsnoel guy 😂 the same guy I think who stole one of Dripdruid’s fics and reposted it when Dripdruid deleted it 😭.

#black clover #this guy’s persistent. #and he’s pathetic #heads up for people in case he pops in your comment section #just block him #I gave him the time of the day so that’s what he came to give me shit #and on my hidden fic no less #he has no live 😭😂

[kingthunder]

trying to nail the characterization i like for geralt and jaskier is like trying to balance on one of these bitches

#look i just want geralt to be a little mean but also soft but also he's a jerk but he's not trying to be? #it's just that he's emotionally illiterate #like he's not NICE but he's KIND do you know what I'm saying #and i want jaskier to have a thick streak of self worth hidden under all that peacocking #like sure he can be insecure but also like #this is the guy who marched unabashedly up to the scariest man alive and was like ✨heey~✨ #this is the guy who got dumped and screamed his breakup song to the whole continent #and he's not nice either he's annoying and sometimes inconsiderate #but he's ALSO KIND #and he and geralt share the same terrible sense of humor #and they don't fit together seamlessly but they DO fit together #they make each other happy on a fundamental level that they don't get with anyone else #anyway #if anyone knows where i can READ a fic like this let me know #witcher #geraskier #let them be spicy but still good for each other

[daechwitatamic]

Its been xx months maybe over a year? since you completed What Was Hidden and I still regularly wonder what Taes thoughts were when he spoke with oc on st Patricks day.

Ykw anon it will be one year in November and I freaking miss them so here you go.

Below the cut – NSFW (but not explicit so don’t come in here expecting smut lol) no minors, Taehyung’s POV of the St. Patrick’s Day party in Chapter 14 of What Was Hidden. Probably this cannot stand alone without reading the series.

Warnings include alcohol consumption, cursing, vague references to Tae’s car crash, kissing and implied sex, angst. unedited so if you see a typo lemme know.

WC: 1700

(banner by @itaeewon)

Sure of It - Tae POV # 7

“I’ll never look back and think maybe I didn’t love her.”

That’s what Taehyung had told you, months ago, before everything fell apart.

And he stands by it, even on the days he’s sure he hates you.

He was sure he hated you when your silence had let him down, was sure of it when he blocked you on insta, was sure of it when he saw you on campus and felt acid roil behind his bellybutton.

He was sure of it when you’d flirted with that idiot right in front of him, was sure of it when he’d called you a coward, was sure of it when you’d lied straight to his face and claimed you didn’t want him.

He hated you. He hates you.

He’s just waiting for time to do its thing and take the sting from it, the same way time slowly took the intensity from his flashbacks and nightmares.

He does what he can to distract himself, in the meantime. That’s what he’s doing on St. Patrick’s Day weekend – distracting himself, one shotglass at a time.

He’s never understood why his hyungs go so big for an Irish holiday – for Yoongi, he thinks it’s a bit ironic, just for a laugh. But Taehyung thinks Jin actually really likes the holiday for whatever reason, and so he finds himself in his packed living room sometime after midnight, awash in green lighting, noticing an ass in a tight green dress.

He knows that ass.

He knows that ass well.

(He misses that ass. But that might be tequila talking.)

He stands at the edge of the dancefloor, hovering between the kitchen and the stairs, and watches you dance with Bridget.

For a second, he doesn’t hate you. For a second, the slanted funhouse he’s lived in since he walked away from you rights itself, and he stands on even footing.

Then the beat changes up and your eyes meet his across the dancefloor, going wide with recognition. He clutches his sweating beer bottle tightly and watches as something hard slides over your face. You down your drink, sending the bottom of the red plastic cup skyward, and turn your back to him.

Move, Taehyung thinks to himself, move before she turns around and you’re still standing here like a fucking clown.

His feet obey, and he makes his way to the basement. He feels like it’s a good idea to be on a different floor of the house than you, if only for self-preservation.

He knows himself well enough to know that his mood is written all over his face. Seeing you unleashed all of it, as it always does. It leaves him as spinning and shattered as the sedan he’d steered into hell over a year ago.

It’s how he knows he loved you, loves you, though. Because when he sees you – whether it’s across campus or across his crowded house – the hating you gets quieter.

Everything else – the stuff he’s been distracting himself from, trying to drown out the sound of – gets louder. Like the fact that you look miserable, even when you’re laughing at something Bridget says. Like the fact that when your eyes catch his, there’s always a flash of something before you seem to shove it down. Like the fact that his heart leaps when he hears your voice, even when he knows it’s stupid. Like the fact that he loves you, loves you, even now – would do anything for you, would climb any mountain if you just said the word.

He's a world-class fool. But the heart wants what it wants, or something.

He expects it to be Jimin who clocks his mood and heads over, but somehow he finds himself standing near the pong tables and it’s Jungkook who sidles up.

“What’s wrong?” the younger man asks, and Taehyung looks at him, surprised. They’d argued less than two hours ago; Jungkook had slammed his bedroom door in Taehyung’s face.

It reminds Taehyung that their friendship existed before, and there’s hope for it still.

“She’s upstairs,” he says flatly. He knows that’s enough.

Jungkook grimaces. “You gonna talk to her? Or you gonna hide down here?”

“I’m not hiding,” Taehyung snaps, but he is and they both know it.

Jungkook shrugs, unbothered. He sips at his beer, scans the room. Taehyung waits. He’s known Jungkook long enough to know he should wait.

“You think she’s sorry?” he asks finally, and the question surprises Taehyung so much that he drops the bravado and fully turns to face his friend, eyes wide.

“Sorry about what?” he manages. He really means, sorry about which part, but he thinks Jungkook understands.

Jungkook shrugged. “Whatever happened first. If you can forgive the first transgression… the rest falls into place.”

Vocab, Taehyung thinks. Out loud, he scoffs. “Transgression. It wasn’t that simple. It wasn’t that clear cut.”

His words aren’t working right.

You’d know what he meant.

Jungkook shrugs again, lazy. “I’m just saying. Maybe she’s sorry and doesn’t know how to say so.”

You had apologized, Taehyung remembers, sipping at his own drink. He’d been too mad to hear it, at the time. And then you’d gone radio silent, like he wasn’t even worth fighting for. Had looked him dead in the eyes and said, “I don’t want you.”

Were you sorry – about any of it?

The part of him that loves you whispers, of course she is.

The part of him that hates you whispers, she threw you away.

And the part of him that treads water somewhere in the middle wonders if any of it even fucking matters.

“I need some air,” he mutters, and heads for the stairs.

He wishes he could go back in time and never trip over you on these fucking stairs. Then maybe his heart wouldn’t be cracked and splintered, maybe his head wouldn’t be spinning in confused circles.

He hates you, he hates you, he hates you.

He heads for the kitchen, ducking around bodies and drinks held aloft, trying not to make eye contact with anyone.

He freezes halfway across the kitchen, his gaze snagging on the window above the sink. You’re out back, alone, leaning against the railing, your head hanging towards the plastic cup you’re dangling over the railing.

He hates you, but his heart tugs.

It’s how he knows he loves you, even when he hates you. Because he can tell by your fucking shoulders that you’re not okay. Because noticing that makes his stomach hurt, makes his hands itch, makes his ribs tight.

He slips outside, closing the door gently and making his way over to you. He leans his elbow on the wood, mirroring you.

He hates you, but he loves you, so he has to check on you. He doesn’t have a choice.

“You okay?” he asks. It’s a dumb question. Neither of you are. You’re both casualties of each other.

“The fuck do you care?” you snap, and Taehyung breaks. He clutches the railing with one hand, turning to face you, every muscle quivering in his fight against his instincts, which scream hold her, hold her, hold her!

Because that? The hatred, the anger? That’s not you, and he knows it. Like looking in a mirror, Taehyung sees it for what it is: a façade, hiding the hurt. It makes him both ache for you, and furious with you.

How dare you make him want to make it better?

He doesn’t touch you, but he does say your name, just once, quietly.

He watches you take a breath, watches as you struggle to get it together. “Go inside,” you say finally. “Go have fun. I’m fine. I just wanted to cool down.”

Liar.

He steps back towards the house, and your body follows, turning so you can keep watching him. He loves you and he hates you, and they are at war inside him, and he had probably three too many shots earlier, and that dress is a sin on you and –

“I know this sucks,” he says, surprising himself. His mouth took over while his head spiraled. But he presses on. “It’s hard for me, too, you know.”

You laugh, and that’s the moment Taehyung knows how this is going to go. There’s something in your stance, in that sarcastic ha, that feels like a challenge. Like you’re daring him to cross a line, and he’s ready to leap.

“I know it’s hard for you, Taehyung,” you say, voice dripping with attitude. “I get it. I’m the bitch that broke your heart. You don’t have to remind me.”

He stares at you and wonders if anyone had let you grieve, when it ended. He wonders if there’s anyone you let inside your walls, where he used to be, to see that you aren’t fine.

He wonders if you’d let him kiss you, if he tried.                                

That dress is fucking with him.

“Don’t do that,” he says.

“Don’t do what?”

“Don’t try to make me feel bad for you when I’m angry with you.”

“Be mad then,” you snap, like you’re over it, exasperated. “Go for it. If you want to hate me, hate me.”

He does.

He could never.

He steps closer.

“That’s not what I want,” he admits, voice low.

He loves you. He’ll prove it.

Your body language shifts; he knows the green light when he sees it, he was with you long enough. “What do you want, then?” You demand it like you already know the answer.

You probably do.

He won’t look back and wonder if he loved you. He knows he does. He’s sure of it when he presses you against the deck railing and kisses you again, stomach swooping with joy. He’s sure of it when you follow him upstairs, when you cling to him and breathe his name in the dark. He’s sure of it when he falls asleep with his face buried in your neck, his arm around your waist.

And though his heart breaks impossibly, new cracks forming right beside the old, he’s sure of it even when he wakes up to find you gone, his sheets cold, the room silent and still.

It wouldn’t hurt this bad if he didn’t.

#bts x reader #taehyung angst #taehyung x reader #taehyung fic #taehyung fanfic #bts fanfic #bts fic #taehyung romance #taehyung x you #kim taehyung fic #kim taehyung fanfic #fic: what was hidden #surprise! lol

[kookstempo]

spoilers without context that make no damage 👺 @daechwitatamic

#fic: what was hidden #darling jo tag #jo's writing #bts fanfic #looking forward to it #the toaster has suffered enough

[icy-warden]

Zevran carrying a special coin purse for little thieves when he's in Antiva.

Sometimes he lets them get away with it, sometimes he doesn't, but he never hurts them.

And he's always aware of the theft attempts.

#an idea that will appear in the fic!! ✨ #bc it got me like 👀 what if zev has two coin purses #one he keeps hidden #one he keeps for everyone to see and it is on purpose #and there's some money but not much #enough for the little thieves to get by and not get in trouble #Zevran #WardenTxt

[silverstarfics]

Tricks and treats!!!!

Hi!!! Happy Halloween (let’s pretend I’m not late relying). Here’s a quick extract with no context:

-

John pressed his hands to the glass as they stared out of the window, drinking in the sight of the sleek rocket, all prepped and ready for launch in nine days.

“I’ve missed this,” he confessed to Grandma, voice hushed. Alan scuffed his sneakers against the wall and set his sights on the rocket, pretending not to be listening. “The official launches. Being a part of it all. It’s strange – I haven’t worked for NASA in years, but it feels like I never left.”  

Grandma squeezed his shoulder. “You’re going to do great, kid.”  

They rushed lunch in order to make it to the medical assessment with time to spare. The doctor looked vaguely amused as she ordered John onto the treadmill.  

“Off the record, this is entirely pointless,” she admitted. “I’m confident that the family business keeps you in shape.”

She slotted her pen back into its holder on her clipboard and smiled at the rest of them, crowded into the room to spend as much time as possible with John before they lost him for eight weeks.

“I don’t suppose any of you feel like signing up?”

Gordon started to raise his hand. Scott slapped it back down. Alan cleared his throat and Kayo yanked his hood over his head.

“You’ve already got one of my boys.” Grandma sounded uncharacteristically cold. “You’re not getting another. There are plenty of people who want to be astronauts. NASA should look elsewhere.”  

“Training takes time and money,” the doctor pointed out with a pinched smile. “But then again, that’s not my jurisdiction. I do know that if we’re sending a team to make First Contact, I’d rather have an experienced crew on-board.” She eyed John. “I think an expert in space rescues definitely counts.”

“I’m an expert in space rescues,” Alan muttered and this time it was Scott who pulled his hood down to keep him from talking himself into trouble.

#thunderfam trick or treat #thunderbirds are go #oooh first contact what’s all this about #confession: before YP I had an alien fic planned #I have like 30k of it hidden away on my laptop #but we don’t talk about that

[teecupangel]

I saw that one post and it got me thinking

What if Desmond does have shape shifting abilities? And for some reason only Desmond could do that

The post where I joked about Desmond having shapeshifting abilities because he always looks like a different dude in every game he’s in.

You know what would be funny, nonny? If his shapeshifting capabilities only lets him change into what can be summarized as a ‘generic-looking dude’ but it is useful.

He first realized he had the capability to shapeshift when he ran away from the Farm. He had reached the nearest town and froze when he saw that a few adults from the Farm were already there, looking for him. One of them noticed him from afar and began to walk towards him and Desmond just panicked.

Then the man reached him and frowned as he got a good look on his face and went, “Sorry, kid. Thought you were my friend’s missing son for a sec.”

And Desmond was confused as to why the man didn’t recognize him. Then he saw his reflection in a nearby mirror and realized that his face was different.

From there, Desmond hid in a nearby ally and began to try to see how he could return to his own face but ended up figuring out how to change his entire body. He was able to shapeshift into an old man but he returned to his last body soon enough because he freaked out as his clothes began to stretch. The transformation itself wasn’t instantaneous, it was slow, as if his body was trying not to shock his nervous system or something.

From there, Desmond continued to shuffle thru his ‘choices’ that he seemed to be able to choose by thinking of criteria like ‘brown hair’, ‘dark brown eyes’, ‘maybe a few inches taller?’ and any physical attribute he could think of. His voice changes as well and each body seemed to have a different voice.

It was the perfect skill to hide from his parents and the adults from the Farm so Desmond made use of it.

By the time he got to New York, he had pretty much mastered it and he built many different ‘aliases’ based on the ‘bodies’ he was most comfortable with.

The bartender in Bad Weather was known for having a charming smile and some kind of European accent that many found sexy (which led to many successful ‘encounters’ and lots of tips and phone numbers).

The young man who walked the streets of New York always had a glare and unnerving eyes that seemed to glow gold in a certain light, deterring most people with bad intentions from even trying.

The one renting apartment 1311 was quite a large young man with a soft kind voice.

One of the regulars of the man selling bootleg CD and DVD copies behind a 7-11 was a scruffy man with dirty blond hair and some kind of accent that the seller didn’t know.

And Abstergo…

Abstergo is left wondering who this ‘Derek Milton’ is who had applied for a motorcycle license.

With a DNA that held the genetic memories of Altaïr Ibn-La'Ahad and Ezio Auditore.

And looks exactly like Ezio Auditore as Subject 16 remembered.

In other words:

Desmond can shapeshift to any of his ancestors (of any age) without realizing they’re his ancestors.

… And Desmond has been shuffling thru them for the past 9 years that he couldn’t even remember what he originally looked like.

#desmond can shapeshift #but he can only shapeshift as his ancestors #that does include haytham giovanni and other ancestors #even sef #he has been abusing it to stay hidden #but now he doesn’t remember what he used to look like #ask and answer #assassin's creed #desmond miles #fic idea: assassin's creed #teecup writes/has a plot