#is they can hide really unhinged meanings beneath the surface

[chirpsythismorning]

S3 is underrated bc it comes off so meaningless the entire time, when in reality it’s the opposite. The jokes in particular were top notch and it’s because most of them went over everyone’s heads. Like, do people even know that they hinted at Robin being lesbian right at the start of s3???

#byler #stranger things #queer-coding #not Steve turning off Robin so much the entire city shuts down 😭 #peak comedy #s3 was so camp #like everyone thinks of it as filler #and it is #the duffers themsleves admitted s3 was them playing in the sandbox #but I think one pro to that #is they can hide really unhinged meanings beneath the surface #and get away with it! #like imagine having dozens of deeper references/meanings only for your audience to say it was boring and nothing happened??… #I would be chilling #knowing that when the story is complete with 5 parts #they’re gonna look back and go #holy shit #these bitches are gay!!

[balanceoflightanddark]

Unpopular Ty Lee headcanon:

Azula fears Ty Lee rather than the other way around (or should anyway). The only person in the royal family she'd ever fear is Ozai.

Ty Lee knows the entire anatomy encyclopedia like the back of her hand which means she has the means to harshly exploit any fatal anatomical weaknesses and sensations.

With her being sent out into brutal war zones, it's likely she knows every single way to kill someone and can do so as quickly or as slowly as she wants.

Ty Lee can have two sides to herself, the fun-loving bubbly side during times of peace and the side that is a trained psychotic mad killer which is the side that puts Azula, Mai, and Zuko on edge from time to time.

If ATLA was aired on adult swim or something like that, think of the savage, brutal, unhinged, carnage she'd wreak. Behind those smiley rosy cheeks is a potential monster.

To begin, sorry if I hadn't responded to this right away. Work and AzulaWeek 2023, you know?

Anyways, Azula fearing Ty Lee. Azula is reeaaaaallly good at hiding her own feelings, often from herself. It's part of the reason everyone sees her as cold and calculating even though there's obviously more going on underneath the surface. The only time she shows visible fear is when Ozai snaps at her, which is to be expected since...well, it's Ozai. She's lived under his rule for so long, it's kind of expected at this point.

But before this becomes another "Ozai is a shit parent" post, Ty Lee. In some degree, she can be terrifying. Her chi-blocking can instantly put any bender at a disadvantage, and she's agile enough to exploit any weakness to the fullest potential. And she is intimidating in-universe to some extent: Katara did admit she was a little wary of Ty Lee. Mind you, she faced Azula, and it's Ty Lee that gives her the hibbie gibbies.

Do I think Ty Lee is a monster beneath that smiling face? No. Not really. Do I think she's a bit meaner than she lets on and has the potential to be absolutely terrifying? Oh absolutely. Sure, Ty Lee is bubbly, but she also has a bit of a mean streak to her. And remember, she believed in the Fire Nation cause just as strongly as everyone else in the Fire Nation did. Considering that characters like Iroh were capable of some really violent stuff, I could see Ty Lee being capable of doing some pretty shady activities while hiding it beneath a smile.

Before anyone asks, no I do not believe Ty Lee is some kind of psychopath. I do genuinely believe that she's got good in her and does have some strong morals when the situation calls for it. Doesn't mean she wasn't any less a servant of the Fire Nation.

#ty lee #ty lee meta #azula #atla #anon ask #anon answered #ask answered #ask me anything #i'll...admit i'm not really the biggest fan of ty lee #so if i'm a bit hard on her here i apologize

[slasherscream]

A/N: shout-out to that one anon on bloodybrahms’ blog forever ago where they were like ginger fitzgerald x jennifer check x jd x reader. their mind?? i haven’t known peace since seeing the concept. 

coincidentally, you as well, will never know a moment of peace again. 

your relationship is overflowing with chaos. you can’t let your guard down for even a second because that’s the exact moment one of your partners will choose to strike and do some absolute bullshit™. it is imperative that you never take your eyes off them or leave any of them on their own. 

if you cannot stay with them at all times at least take care to make sure you never leave all three of them alone together. nothing good has ever come from you doing this.

you act as the impulse control for all three of your partners. they straight up don’t know how to act without you around. 

let’s talk about the chaotic dynamics and features of this relationship, shall we-

○ ginger and jennifer ....where to start. they dislike each other so much, both on the fundamental levels of their personalities and also as supernatural entities. werewolves and demons aren’t like…. natural enemies or anything but they can be Genuine Threats™ to one another so their hackles are always a little raised around each other.

○ that aside, jennifer is the exact type of girl ginger hated in high-school. she took one glance at jennifer and said "what a fucking vapid wanna-be barbie looking slut" and she hasn't changed her mind since. 

○ meanwhile, jennifer thinks ginger is just.... beneath her. she wouldn't have hated a girl like ginger back in high-school because she never would've fucking noticed her. once she is forced to acknowledge ginger as a sentient, living being due to your poly relationship she's just.... aggravated by her. if jennifer had to put into words what she doesn't like about the other girl it would be how fucking judgmental she is. absolutely rich coming from jennifer of all people but she's serious! you're gonna sit here.... and hate her.... because she's popular and sexy?? are you fucking twelve?? you mangy, pathetic, edgy, "i only listen to evanescence" ass bitch (and she means the bitch part literally.)

at best their relationship could MAYBE wind up like that exchange from jumanji: welcome to the jungle:

Professor Shelly Oberon : Seriously, I can't even open my mouth around you. You don't even know me, but you, like, decided you hate me.

Ruby Roundhouse : Look, I just think you live in, like, the "hot popular girl" bubble, you know, where everybody either treats you like a princess or like an object. Maybe it makes you a little self-absorbed or something?

Professor Shelly Oberon : That's fair. But do you think that maybe the reason why you are so judgy is because you are like afraid that people are not gonna like you, so you've decided not to like them first? I'm just saying, you're a babe, go with it.

but realistically they will never have a conversation this open and honest. they'll stick to bickering and being catty, thank you very much. occasionally they are so catty that they start literally fighting and yes, your house will get destroyed every time some shit pops off between them. please have everything insured. 

○ funnily enough they both like/love jd!! off the bat they both find him incredibly attractive. jennifer saw him and said "yummy.com, much?" ginger did not say anything but watched him like a hungry....well, wolf. honestly though looks weren't enough to keep either of them interested in someone when they were plain human and un-traumatized       let alone now. in fact, considering that jennifer is a succubus her finding jd hot only put him in danger adjkl.

○ lucky for him he was surprisingly resistant to her physical charm/succubus powers/allure when she first approached him, planning to make him her next meal. while she totally took his disinterest as a challenge because uhm?? are you fucking blind?? i'm a fucking buffet?? all i serve is looks?? it also made her respect him quite a bit. jennifer takes very few people seriously. her respecting someone so soon after meeting them is actually a way bigger deal than her liking them. 

○ jd takes some time to warm up to jennifer but not as much as you'd think? while he might roll his eyes at her popular, mean girl shtick he's very observant and sees that there's more to jennifer than meets the eye.

○ the fact that he doesn't immediately hop into her bed just because she sticks her chest out gives him enough time to see beneath her surface and surprises her enough that she let's him. there are plenty of things he likes about her. he admires the way she can just...bend the world to her will. when she wants something she gets it, no matter what. he loves that?? she's very dynamic and bold. excitement either follows her or she chases after it. and unlike a lot of charismatic or popular people jennifer lacks the one trait jd absolutely can't stand       being fake. jennifer doesn't hide the fact that she's a stone cold bitch. she always says exactly what she means or what's on her mind. overall jennifer is an addicting personality to have around and even jd falls for her charm eventually.

○ jennifer won't say it but realizing jd actually cares about her and likes her as a person is what makes her fall, you know       because she's a fucking narcissist... just kidding. it catches her off guard for someone to fall for her because of who she is and not what she looks like. it makes her vulnerable for just long enough that she sees all the things that are good about jd and BOOM, she's in love. now she's got two mates and one annoying hang around whom she also has sex with because she's not hideous (her mate, ginger is also her mate, she just likes ginger less than she likes the two of you.)

○ ginger loves jd's intensity. they're pretty much ' same hat! ' relationship wise.

ginger: men are fucking worthless jd: *walks around fucking unhinged* ginger: ....one man allowed 

○ she genuinely loves his personality and he genuinely loves hers right on back. they're kind of just...mirrors of each other in a lot of ways but there's just enough difference between them that they don't piss each other off. other than their tempers they get along really well because they think the same way?? have the same ideas?? want to do the same things?? kill the same people?? you know bonding shit. they're kind of perfect together? they completely understand one another. they are probably the most like-minded of the whole relationship, not the closest, but they think pretty much the exact same shit, i cannot emphasize this enough. they can make eye contact and know exactly what the other is thinking and they love that. lowkey best friends. highkey you cannot let them go on dates alone. 

○ where do you fit in here? uhm you're the glue and stability of this relationship. sure they all love or begrudgingly (and secretly) like each other but you're like.... gravity. essential and holding the world together, keeping everything balanced. you were probably the start of the relationship to begin with. they all knew you and were growing to love you separately and then each realized they had competition but while they were trying to fight each other off they just sorta...got used to one another. and none of them were willing to give you up so it's lucky they decided to share or it would've been a fucking bloodbath to put it lightly. none of them have self control or boundaries. to get what they want they'd all go ridiculously far... i don't know what's farther than murder but they'd do it. 

○ they all depend on you emotionally, honestly. you're their closest friend, the person they can be vulnerable with, someone they trust to take care of them in the way that matters most. they love you because you make them all feel....human (even jd who is the only actual human besides you. but you get the point.)

sometimes they get jealous of each other, which is ridiculous, because you're almost always together as a group. you do occasionally go off in pairs or to separate outings/activities/dates but generally?? you're all together. it's typically more like-

ginger: you've been hanging off y/n all fucking day, jennifer! they barely fucking smell like me anymore. jennifer: what's so bad about that? you smell fucking disgusting- jd: *grabs ginger around the waist before she can jump across the kitchen counter and beat jen's ass*

however!! there isn't as much inter-group jealously as you'd believe! they actually enjoy having a relationship involving four people.

it feels very secure to them? first off they all feel better in regards to you. they don't worry so much about anything happening to you because you have three over-protective partners who would die and kill for you. they also don't worry about you leaving them because you're so.... you. unlike other, unnamed people they so desperately clung to in the past they know you're not going anywhere. they feel secure enough in their connection with you to be as codependent as possible :)))

(also.... you couldn't leave if you tried lmao. get away from one of them? sure       maybe. get away from all three?? *cue clown music* they'd use ginger as a hunting hound and track you by scent alone.)

the four person relationship feels incredible to ginger because it satisfies her need to have a pack? she'd only ever had her sister before and you know how....close, they were. having more than one, single person to be emotionally attached to/invested in really helps center ginger? it also makes it easier to be in a relationship with her? she can be very intense and focused and she puts a lot of energy into her relationship. having that focus and intensity spread out amongst multiple partners is great for her and for them. 

jennifer only ever really felt connected to one person, needy. losing her was....a lot. she never thought she'd be close to anyone again let alone to three people. she can't stand the mutt sometimes but she loves you and jd!! and she loves being loved. not lusted after. not admired. not envied. loved, genuinely loved. she may be a demon, she might not have a soul anymore, but she does have a heart, and every day she's with the three of you it feels a little less broken. 

since the..."untimely" death of jd's mother (and arguably, even while she was still alive) he's never had any roots. no solid connection. no one to belong to or with. before you, ginger, and jennifer he was just...drifting. when you three came into his life it was like hearing a sudden gunshot in the middle of a calm forest. it was electrifying, and maybe even a little scary. he went from having absolutely nothing to having everything, all at once. for the first time in a long time he has something to be grateful for. he would do anything for the three of you. he'd burn the world to the ground just to see you three smile.  

jd goes on several motorcycle rides a week because while you guys have like two cars...he keeps his motorcycle because jennifer, ginger and you think it's hot and none of you are very practical. he must treat all of you to the delight that is the wind flowing through your hair while you're on the back of his bike. jennifer doesn't like helmet hair but she likes the sexiness factor. ginger likes that it's dangerous so jd always speeds when he's with her, you're not sure how they don't get arrested?? 

date nights are such a nightmare because you guys are all very opinionated?? and particular. you and jd are probably the most easy-going but that doesn't really help because jennifer and ginger are always going to be picky about what you guys wind up doing and they'll say no to whatever the other suggests just on principal. just for their own amusement. 

ginger, jennifer and jd are so over-protective of you. you're such a delicate little human?? how have you been surviving without them?? you need them to take care of you. 

sometimes you'll be like "why the fuck aren't you two stifling jd? he's a human too!!" and they're like "no he's different" which is such bullshit but also like....jd is fucking unhinged. he can take care of himself. you are their baby. 

ginger and jennifer are forever arguing about who is going to transform you and jd. you would think they’d at least agree that one of you is gonna get turned into a demon and one will become a werewolf, at least for the sake of balance, but they literally can’t even agree on THAT let alone which supernatural creature you or jd will wind up as. you two have minimal input in this choice sorry :/ this is werewolf and succubus beef. humans be silent.

you staying human isn't a choice because humans are weak and die so quickly. unacceptable?? ginger is gonna live a long ass time and jennifer is probably immortal. they are not winding up stuck with each other just because you and jd thought you could escape them in death?? fuck you. 

ginger needs all three of you to smell like her. yes, even jennifer. but mostly you and jd as you're her two humans and Preferred Mates. jennifer can smell her scent on you all but she doesn't need to smell it?? it's not instinctual?? meanwhile it straight up gives ginger anxiety when you guys don't smell like her. it's just part of werewolf mating. honestly while ginger smells different from humans she doesn't smell like dog, jennifer just likes to say that to piss her off. if she did smell like dog jennifer wouldn't touch her and would gripe any time she touched you or jd. 

cuddling is such a fucking nightmare. you guys have the biggest couch in the world and it's still a fucking ordeal. every two person couple activity is fucking ordeal for local poly couple.

it's a debate every time about who's going to sit where or who's going to hold who. oh jennifer likes to sit on the armrest? cool. except she wants to cuddle with you, but you want to sit in the middle today, and jd wants his arms around you, but ginger is laying in his lap and refuses to move cause he was riding on his bike too long today and stopped smelling like her so she'll bite him if he moves. 

your life is literally that "man has to get a fox, a chicken, and a sack of corn across a river." riddle i'm so fucking sorry for you.

jennifer likes to buy you and jd clothes. she stopped bothering getting stuff for ginger because the mutt is always so ungrateful of jennifer's taste in clothing. to be fair jennifer only buys a few things that are a bit out of you or jd's comfort range, she tends to buy things that will make you look hot but that you'd also get for yourself. 

jd goes shopping with her because he doesn't like leaving any of his partners alone for long. like he doesn't enjoy it he's also not going to bitch about it like other "dutiful" boyfriends who are left holding a few shopping bags and purses. you can't go out with your girlfriend and hold her shit for her for a couple hours?? can't give her a few minimal responses on whether something looks good or bad??? fuck you. also stop looking at his girlfriend before he pulls out his gun. 

they all encourage the worst of each others possessiveness. not only because being around each other makes it feel normal because they all agree this is a perfectly healthy amount of possessiveness but also because they all think of being possessive as something romantic. you know they love you because they'll rip apart anyone who looks at you for two long!!! 

when you wake up in the morning it's chaos. someone's hair is always in someone's mouth and ginger is a very wild sleeper. especially as it gets closer to the full moon. one of you will wind up on the floor even though you have two king mattresses pushed together. jennifer is one second away from tying ginger up before the four of you go to bed. 

you don't really have to worry much about ginger's transformation?? like she won't hurt you and jd during it because she knows that you two are her mates, she's pretty docile around you two (for a werewolf). she knows that jennifer is her...something so she doesn't try to hurt her but she's also not gonna roll over and show her belly.

if anything does go wrong like ginger gets out/away from you all or out of control jennifer can get her back or put her in check no problem. werewolf cuts/bites don't hurt more than any other type of gnarly injury so jennifer is fine with doing it.

that's one of the ways you can tell jennifer gives a shit about ginger actually. even when ginger will fight her viciously when she's a werewolf jennifer mostly just does things to restrain her, not to hurt her. you'd never point that out though because just to prove she's not soft jennifer might break one of ginger's ribs or some shit next time.

the big concern is making sure ginger doesn't get hurt or caught. jd and jen don't care if she hurts anyone else frankly adjkl. to try and keep ginger running off to a minimum (because it's very hard to keep a werewolf somewhere it doesn't want to be) right before a turn jennifer will bring her own.... food, back to the house and her and ginger will kill them together?? it satiates some of the blood-lust and makes the transformations easier. 

all three of these bastards will try and kiss you or fuck you while you're covered in blood and it's a nightmare!! somehow one of them is always covered in blood!! even if jd wasn't directly involved in a killing he will come home covered in blood because he made out or had sex with one of the girls while they were covered in blood. he thinks they're beautiful when they're blood thirsty :)))

none of them are great at emotions but all three of them together almost make one-functional human being!! and they are all, to their credit, aware of the fact that they aren't great with feelings so they are already naturally over-compensating to make sure they're always taking care of all your needs. 

you: on the phone with a friend complaining about your day, minding your own business the three of them: *manifest from nowhere because their "you having human contact that isn't them" sense was tingling ginger: *snatches your phone and hangs up on your friend* jennifer: *sits in your lap* jd: *wraps an arm around you* why don't you tell us about your day, darling?

a well-oiled machine anyone?

no friends!!! only them!! you are a pack!! you are mates!! you're a family!!! fuck anyone else. 

#jd x reader #jennifer check x reader #ginger fitzgerald x reader #jennifer check imagine #heathers imagine #jennifer's body #heathers #jason dean #slasher x reader #ginger fitzgerald x jennifer check x jd x reader #this got so long adjkl #*posts this after like writing for an hour* FUCK done finally #i hope my soul can rest now that's i've written my ultra poly ship

[aquaquadrant]

ravenous red

Star Wars: The Clone Wars fanfic Rating: T Warnings: Graphic descriptions of violence, injury, blood, death Summary:

i heard you wanted a war funny, i wanted it more

~*~

So he says nothing, letting his gaze speak his hate as he relents, turning and walking away. It feels like disgrace, it feels like a failure, to go do her bidding- go cause some chaos, she taunts- but real victory lies in that which she does not yet know. Good at it, sure, he can admit as much, but the means to the end will be something she doesn’t expect. That’s how he’ll get her, collateral damage in this personal storm he directs.

At her request.

Lady Tano, you don’t know what you’ve just asked for.

A/N: I know I said my last oneshot was my tribute to the Clone Wars, but then I heard a song that fit Maul perfectly so I had to do a tribute to him too. It’s actually a song fic, I’ve been writing fanfic since I was 13 but this is my first song fic so hopefully I did it right. This is basically Order 66 from Maul’s POV, showing off how much of a spiteful, unhinged badass he really is. Hope you enjoy, reblogs/comments are appreciated! – Aqua

Song is Appetite for Destruction by Vo Williams

Click here to read on Archive of Our Own

Click here to support me on Ko-fi

~*~

ravenous red

It starts with a scream.

Ringing out through the force like a shot, chaos crashing in after it. Words pass in flashes, snippets he can’t quite decipher. The impressions of feelings brush against him; shock, betrayal, desperation. He feels the flicker of lightning, a bygone but familiar sensation. Someone somewhere has made a very poor choice, one that will echo for ages, one that he expected.

(He did try and warn them)

It’s not long before they come. Identical faces behind identical helmets approach without words. They are rigid, unflinching, as they move to lower the shield that protects him, ensnares him, with unspoken intent written plainly as anything else.

Any lingering sympathy he has for these beings, these clones that were raised to be tools- as was he- dissipates like mist in the sun. To think, they would kill him like this. Trapped and defenseless. A coward’s method of choice; it insults him, right to the core. Let him out, let him fight, he’ll give them a show. He’ll remove the spines they don’t deserve. They aren’t using them anyway.

The death in the air is a pulse in his brain, a constant crashing and ebb of bloody waves. It’s hard to concentrate, hard to mediate between what’s happening right in front of him and what’s happening lightyears away. The force is a furnace, thousands of bodies toppling into it to burn. It devours them gladly, wiping out light from the sky to leave nothing but smoke and ash in return.

He wants to join in, wants to destroy. Not a Sith, not quite, but he hunts like one still. The darkness beckons for him, a familiar cold, coursing through his veins. Yellow eyes glare through glass, burning with hatred and rage. He’d kill them, if only he could. He wants them to know it. He wants them to feel it.

If looks could kill, they’d already be dead.

this is the end of your days it's time we end the charades open the cage, i want to play time for the bridges to blaze

Blasters are raised- but cut down just as quickly.

His savior is a flash of blue. Unexpected but welcome (though he prefers red). Her hostility is unsurprising, her fear concealed well- but not completely. She feels the same death he does, but it frightens her, whereas it only strengthens his resolve. He will not fall as the Jedi do. He loathes the thought; there is too much unfinished business for him to perish now.

(Kenobi will survive this because Maul must be the one to kill him, no one else, he wills this with every fiber of his being- and will is a powerful thing, will allowed him to survive being cleaved in half)

Between the two of them, everything falls into place. His master’s plan, beautiful and deadly. Brilliant and artful. Cowardly and despicable. To strike them down with the men who were created to serve, to protect. They’re nothing but droids now, mindless droids coated in flesh. It doesn’t matter to him; he’d kill either way, but he knows that she won’t.

It’s good that she’s come to him, he’ll do it for her, do what must be done to get them out alive-

Except, no.

She rejects him. She wants to strike out on her own, condemn him to the same lonely fate. It’s foolish. So blinded by her lofty morals that she fails to grasp they’re both members of the same dying breed. The Padawan who might’ve joined him has retreated far beneath the surface, hiding under a cloak of denial at the vision he sees. Her attachment is strong, too strong, that she cannot accept the truth even when given freely.

How dare she? How dare she?! Dare to use him and cast him aside, as so many others before- always remember that you are nothing- this child in a warrior’s mask, thinking he’ll act as her pawn. No, not anymore.

Oh, he’ll kill her. He’ll kill her for that. So many ways to do it, weapon or no. Reach out a hand, reach for the force, strangle the breath from her lungs, crushing her throat in his grasp. In this moment, he hates so greatly he truly thinks that he could. Crush her throat, or crush her skull, he wants to, grab her head and smash it against the wall. Red dripping down lekku of blue and white, a striking image it’d make, to be sure. He always did have an eye for these things.

He wants to see it.

i'm slipping into a craze twisted images into the brain turn up the volume on the pain give me the feeling i crave

But no.

Logic and reason win out. They dictate he cannot waste time on the likes of her. She proved a difficult fight before and his chances are slim as they are. Save his energy, save his effort for the real battle to come, for the ones who march to the tempo of death and come for him next, they’ll come for him just as well as for her.

Neither of them are Jedi but he knows they will not see it as so.

In the end that’s all that matters, how they will see you, how they perceive you, all the words in the world make no difference at all. Words do nothing, only action can produce results, as he’s clearly been shown.

So he says nothing, letting his gaze speak his hate as he relents, turning and walking away. It feels like disgrace, it feels like a failure, to go do her bidding- go cause some chaos, she taunts- but real victory lies in that which she does not yet know. Good at it, sure, he can admit as much, but the means to the end will be something she doesn’t expect. That’s how he’ll get her, collateral damage in this personal storm he directs.

At her request.

Lady Tano, you don’t know what you’ve just asked for.

show me your villainous ways show me the killer's awake make me afraid that's how you bring me to life make the adrenaline race i want a taste

i feel my rage erupting feed my appetite for destruction blood rushing i love when you feed my appetite for destruction

Alone, he persists.

His path’s uncontested, legs of metal storming heavy and loud through the ship, not trying to hide. Let them come, he’ll be ready. This aggression needs somewhere to go, after all. It’s burning him up inside. He knows intimately what it’ll do to him, if he won’t let it out. The anger, the pain. It seeks to devour, a ravenous red haze flowing through him, taking control of his brain.

It guides him and he lets it. His stalk is a predator’s stalk, single-minded focus on the hunt. He’s not afraid. They’ll see they aren’t the only executioners at work today.

They find him quickly, scattered through the ship as they are, and greet him with a volley of fire. Metal bends to his will, peeling away like skin off of flesh. Weapons or no, he’s been given a task. He can be creative. The true measure of a warrior lies not in their blade. To wield power, he needs only to look within and ask.

The very walls of their ship become the instruments of their demise. He lifts without effort, advancing slowly but surely with an unbroken stride. Walls to deflect their shots, to smash them aside, to cut through armor, through flesh, and through bone. Two heads roll off with a thrust of his arm, slack faces concealed in their helms. Bodies crushed in between, crumbling limp to the floor. A sharp flick of the wrist pins one to the wall, sliced in half- the irony is not lost on him, but humor has no place here, in this tomb.

And finally, they make their retreat, aiming to seal him inside. But no, he’s not done with them yet. There’s something he needs and he’s not asking politely.

The arm comes off in the end, the vital comm-link still attached to the bracer. He slips it on, leaving the limb to bleed red on the floor, staining the armor- and he was right, what a striking image it makes. But he can’t linger long.

Chatter through the communicator gives him his next target.

Chaos… really, she should have been more specific.

i heard you wanted a war funny, i wanted it more here comes the "bang-bang" on your door it's time to back up the noise i've been ignoring the voice begging me seek and destroy it's eating my core feel like a time bomb in the eye of a storm

He makes it to the engine room without interruption.

It’s cavernous, the floor far below, a pit spanned by narrow bridges. It’s protected, as he expected, clones charge to stop him but they matter not. Their efforts are wasted. Over the edge they go; others fall to commandeered blaster fire, or to his fists. He will succeed by any means. It’s futile of them to resist.

(They can’t help it, he knows, but he doesn’t care- he wants their blood anyways)

The dark side has never flowed more strongly within him. It’s a wellspring inside his chest, filling him completely with inky black cold. Their will is one and the same; burn it all. He reaches out, power surging, fueling his rage as it takes hold. All around him, machinery falls. Sparks rain down from above as reactors are peeled off the walls.

He’ll tear them apart from within. Metal shrieks and groans as he pries it away. The ship’s hyperdrive core is his aim. Without it, they’re stranded. Him as well, but he’s not planning to stay. There must be shuttles, and nothing will get in his way.

The doors part, and another squadron advances to stop him- but they’re too late. He topples the reactors on top of them and down it all goes, crashing to the floor far below, sealing their fate.

And with that, it’s time to take his leave.

let all the chips hit the floor do everything that you want settle the score that's how you bring me to life that's when I'm feeling recharged i want it all

i feel my rage erupting feed my appetite for destruction blood rushing i love when you feed my appetite for destruction

The flight deck is a battlefield.

She’s here- but of course- attempting to hold off the rest of the forces, their volley of fire. Somehow, someway, she’s pulled one to her side. Her little captain fights bravely, but there’s too many, it won’t be enough.

He senses opportunity, another chance perhaps to make her see. Come to her aid now and she’ll have no choice but to accept. Offer survival; a joint escape from this wreckage for her and her dog (though he cares not for three). Two are better than one, even if two is the way of the Sith, which he’s not. Their chances are better together. He knows this. He feels this.

Except, no.

She already had her chance, she had three. She rejected him. She scorned him. She cast him aside. You lie, she told him. Your vision is flawed. Arrogant. Stubborn. He hates her. He hates her.

Within a second, his choice is made. He runs past, towards the ship that would be her salvation- now it’s his. She pursues, he deflects; a dangerous dance. The world’s falling around them, and still they cannot help but fight- it’s in her nature, in her nature as well as in his.

You wanted this chaos, he taunts.

Then, without mercy, he pushes her over the edge.

i feel the monster rising up inside and i can't hold it down i'm hungry for destruction pieces crumbling, fall into the ground

i feel my rage erupting feed my appetite for destruction blood rushing i love when you feed my appetite for destruction

She’s still alive when he leaves.

His ship arcs away from the crash, plowing through smoke and fire. The entire carrier is doomed, every last soul aboard sharing its fate. Escape pods destroyed, no more ships to salvage. Surely, then, this is their end- but not his.

(He did tell them they’d all burn; but while some burn in fire, others burn with it)

There’s no remorse in his escape. It’s a measure of strength; only he was enough to get out alive. He cares not for her, for how she will burn. She deserves it. In fact, he’d say out of all the beings on that ship, she’s the only one. The droids-who-were-clones cannot ‘deserve’ a fate either way. Every action is the command of somebody else, not their own.

A great victory for his master. The thought curls his lip. But he’ll count his blessings; he survived, and as the galaxy is reshaped, he knows that he has all the skills required to thrive. A tool he might be, but a sharp one. A deadly one.

His master saw to that. He should thank him. Maybe he will- before he kills him.

As for her... the possibility lingers that she might’ve survived as well. Resourceful. Determined. He sensed these traits in her. But he truly hopes that she hasn’t, that the firestorm has swallowed her whole. Not for his sake, but hers. Because if she survived, then the next time he sees her- and he will, if she has- she won’t be so lucky simply to burn.

He will kill her slowly, painfully. Unimaginable agony. Broken in body and mind. Enough to beg for death. Enough to understand what he’s felt, the culmination of all his suffering- truly, a fate to wish on no one.

Best to be taken in fire and chaos.

Lady Tano, isn’t that what you wanted?

i feel my rage erupting feed my appetite for destruction blood rushing i love when you feed my appetite for destruction

~*~

#star wars the clone wars #swtcw #clone wars season 7 #darth maul #tcw spoilers #my writing

[girlrottn]

the 𝑃𝐸𝑅𝐹𝐸𝐶𝑇 night for a 𝖙𝖗𝖆𝖌𝖊𝖉𝖞 ──

╰ °✧ ( MARGARET QUALLEY, CIS WOMAN, TWENTY-THREE, SHE/HER ) : — ❝ here comes ECHO CLEMONS to help guide the tour !  they’ve lived in deadmore for twenty-three years and do know that the myth is true. besides helping guide you all today, they are also a knife thrower at the deadmore grand carnival  !  they’re known around town for being adventurous, courageous, foolhardy, and impulsive. they’re said to give off  the sound of roller skates against pavement, curious glances, unmade beds, and autumn leaves stained with blood vibe. some people suspect that they're hiding that they recently joined the cult worshipping the deadmore monster. hopefully the town and tourists don’t find out ! ❞

howdy !! i’m spence, ur local weirdo with unhealthy obsessions w southern gothic shit & vampires !! i’m here to introduce you to my crazy baby echo uwu even tho she’s a little bit evil and a lot a bit weird, she’s not shy at all so feel free to hmu with any and all connection ideas you may have !!! i’m also in the process of getting a wc page set up for her so i’ll make a post linking it when i do !!!

TRIGGER WARNINGS for very brief mentions of death, violence, stabbing below the cut

𝐁𝐀𝐒𝐈𝐂𝐒: a rose by any other name would still have thorns.

full name: isabel lynn clemons nickname(s): echo, izzy to family only age: twenty-three date of birth: march 21 gender: cis woman pronouns: she/her orientation: pansexual panromantic religion: raised southern baptist, currently a member of a cult worshipping the deadmore monster occupation: 1/2 of a knife throwing duo at the deadmore carnival / circus, occasionally picks up gigs in the deadmore cabaret at right hand casino in the off season

character & aesthetic inspiration from: rose summerspring ( bad times at the el royale ), donald ray pollock’s ‘ the devil all the time ’, gillian flynn’s ‘ sharp objects ’, every kaleo song asdvadf

𝐏𝐀𝐒𝐓: resurrection is natural to beautiful things; a flower dies in autumn to be reborn in spring.

        isabel clemons was born on the first day of spring in deadmore, georgia. her dad’s side of the family, the clemons’, were an old money family, with roots laid down in deadmore just about as far back as it was founded. and he was expected to keep it that way ─ stay in the town, start a family, continue the tradition that his ancestors started generations back. which is why when he and isabel’s mother, a mississippi woman with strawberry blonde hair and a scowl that could knock a hog dead, had trouble conceiving for a number of years, he was terrified he would disappoint his family. but time, perseverance, and a healthy amount of prayer must have done the trick, because after four years of trying, they finally saw that little blue plus.          little isabel was a miracle, it seemed, so she was treated as such. from the time she could toddle, she was handed everything she could ever want. but along with being spoiled, as her parent’s only child, a lot was expected of the girl from a young age. she began ballet when she was four, violin when she was six, always made it to the finals in every spelling be, and only received one b in her entire school career. she had a strict curfew, wasn’t allowed to date, and her parents carefully cherry-picked each of her friends. well mannered, soft voiced, legs crossed, chin down, ladylike. she never lived the life of a teenage girl; instead she existed as some unreachable ideal ─ something to be bragged about, doted on, and appreciated from afar. it was only a matter of time until she snapped.          when fall of her senior year in high school rolled around, isabel made the first decision she had ever made without her parents’ expectations in mind. after months of silent contemplation, she decided to forgo sending in college applications. of course, she didn’t tell her parents about it until they confronted her, asking about the lack of letters they had been receiving in the mail and wondering if she was hiding the results. she explained to them what she had done, and that she didn’t want to go to university at all, and unsurprisingly it resulted in an enormous fight. for most eighteen-year-olds yet to finish their senior year in high school, being disowned and kicked out by their parents would be a tragedy, but for isabel it was liberating.         she went wild, embraced her newfound freedom. she was reckless, and did things without thought for the first time in her life, even changed her name to something she thought sounded more fun. it didn’t take long for her to lose her grip on reality, to become a hedonist who thrived on adrenaline. maybe that’s why it was so easy for her to say yes when the deadmore grand carnival’s knife thrower ( i may end up putting a wc up for this character so hmu if ur interested !! ) needed a new target girl. she giggled in the face of death in a way that only an unhinged teenage girl could. and she never stopped.

𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐓: the rose discovers she is an instrument of war

        in the years since echo impulsively took on the role of target girl in the carnival’s knife throwing act, she has picked up the skill herself ( her dedication seems to be one of her more redeeming qualities these days ), and the two performers know act as one another’s targets throughout their set. and given her volatile and impulsive nature, it wasn’t difficult for her to be drawn to the cult living in deadmore’s underbelly. she’s always had morbid fascinations, especially about the hushed whispers of the monster that the townspeople keep satiated. inevitably, those fascinations along with her inclination for the grotesque have led her straight to the cult, which she has promptly devoted herself to entirely despite the short time that she’s even known about it. 

𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐘: i want to kiss a god or two on the mouth.

echo is usually pretty nice upon first glance ; she grew up being pressed hard to be well mannered, and it isn’t something that immediately dissipated as she grew out of the persona her parents had made of her. 

beneath the surface, though, she can be snide and she loves messing with people for no good reason. no joke. like, fucks with tourists and tries to scare them all the time, tells them she’s a vampire or a ghost or something and pulls a whole rouse just because she thinks messing with people is funny. 

also has a nasty habit of spreading gossip.

an enormous flirt. she never really did it before, because she wasn’t allowed to date so she just tried to steer clear, and now she’s making up for lost time. *mushu voice* she’ll flirt with you, she’ll flirt with your cow, she’ll flirt with your whole family

undying interest in things she was sheltered from as a kid, most notably chaos, violence, and anything grotesque. eats the shit up. straight up you could stab her hand or some shit and after she got over the pain, she’d just stare at it in fascination. not really averse to death, a late bloomer when it comes to the idea of mortality, doesn’t really subscribe to it. enormous god complex.

all that said, she’s pretty easily manipulated a lot of times, largely because of that same sheltered upbringing. she’s seen a lot more in the past couple of years than most can handle, treating everything like it doesn’t matter and life is just a dream-state she’s stuck in helps, but it also means it’s not hard to get her to go along with what other people want (as long as some kind of benefit for her, no matter how trivial, is presented). pair that with some wild impulsivity and nonchalance about danger and death and you’ve got a fun combo baybee

i’m gonna stop there because i’ve already written waaaayy too much... if you read this whole thing u truly are my hero wow... but that’s my baby !! catch her roller skating around deadmore being nosy in everyone’s business. call her isabel and she’ll slap u ! feel free to come scream at me if u wanna do things with her, thanks for coming to my ted scream goodnight

#no proof reading we die like men #dm.intro #i rlly don't know when to stop huh

[skulldxddy]

@maxskulline​

There’s a stench of rum on his breath. Time didn’t dull the discomfort she felt whenever Guzma had an episode, whenever he’s drowning those damned feelings he didn’t wanna feel under bottles and bottles of booze, and more than sometimes shit much worse than that. He’s been drinking all week, disappeared from the surface of this wrecked planet for nights straight, and it’s been straining on her. Fuck knows what the guy’s been up to when she couldn’t see, but when he stumbled into her shack out of nowhere, with the slouched shoulders and the hopeless eyes of a lost boy, she didn’t send him away. 

“Saw my old man again,” that’s all the explanation he’s giving her, and everything she needed to hear to understand. Finally, some of the anxiety was put to rest. She ain’t the girl to ask many questions, but she leads Guzma to the shabby old bed she’s made a nest in, sat him down with gentle force and claimed her place next to him. Fingers fumbled with the stray threads of a shirt slowly coming undone. If he dared to steal a peek, he’d see chewed off nails and deep, hollow shadows beneath Max’s pink eyes. This last week’s been….. tough. Max hated that she had formed such a deep attachment to this guy, hated the sleepless nights of missing him, not knowing where he went, what he did. She’s just a step short of letting go and telling him all of that, but before this can even happen, she lights herself a cigarette and asks:

                    “So, how did that go?“ 

   When life gets fucked up, Guzma likes to drown himself deep. His largest, most destructive vice aside from his rage is no secret to the residents of the Shady House. Guzma flaunts his alcoholism like he flaunts his swagger, keeps his empty bottles scattered around his room like trophies; medals to his lack of self-control. They’re better to look at than bronzes and silvers and all the things that remind him of him. That don’t mean he ain’t gonna isolate and hide from time to time to protect his habit. No one can stop him if they can’t see how deep he bends.

   Sometimes, Guzma has no other option but to keep himself stashed away under lock and key because he’s like a beast off its leash when self-medicating; wild, manic, unhinged. He don’t wanna hurt his people and he sure as shit don’t wanna be like his old man. He just wants to feel that satisfaction of destroying things, the power, even if those things don’t feel it.

                      Especially if those things don’t feel it.

   And then he wakes up, forgetting all he’s done so he can start again the next morning, noon, evening—fuck it, he don’t keep track of time anymore. And after that’s when Guzma ends up here, banging on Max’s door as if she expected to be graced with his favourable company. A cigarette hangs from his lips, wispy smoke matching his mood as his eyes beg to be let in.

   Guzma makes himself at home on the side of her bed. For once, he looks small. He looks at her, but not at her, too far away to see her or understand there’s a brokenness in her eyes too. Guzma doesn’t say a word ‘til she joins him there, interrogates him. But she’s not interrogatin’. It’s just a fuckin’ question, Guzma, he argues with himself, trying not to fall apart. Don’t take it the wrong way. You got this. His demeanour changes entirely when she asks him that.

   “Oh, was fuckin’ great,” he cackles, takes his cig ‘tween his fingers as he throws himself back on the bed ‘n his other arm behind his head. “He try to hug me, tell me how prouda me he was.” Gaze held on the ceiling, Guzma tokes on the ol’ nic stick in an effort to hide the way his lip quivers. “I let ‘em have it for while, let ‘em think he still had hold on me. Then I tell ‘em where to stick it. Felt so fuckin’ good, Max. I said to ‘em, I said—fuck you. Fuck off me. I told you I ain’t never wanna see your damn fuckin’ face on my turf again. I said right to his face–I’ll crush you,” he lies, because that ain’t how the story here goes.

   Because he doesn’t wanna admit to her or to himself that the big bad Guzma hid away the instant that man was spotted. That he didn’t wanna be seen by him, didn’t wanna be known by him. There’s really somethin’ fucking wrong with him because whenever he feels on top of the world, he’s more confrontational than ever. Why couldn’t it be like that this time? 

                 Suddenly, his back aches.

   "Felt good, Max,“ he exhales clots of smoke, thousand-yard stare absorbing nothing.

                                                                         “Yeah .  .  . felt good.” 

#maxskulline #submission #✖ [ GUZMAX ] ash is our purest form. #fuck.

[fortunatelylori]

Rage-kitten Jon time

*this meta includes graphic depictions of violence. Redear discretion is advised

A while back, during a conversation with @kitten1618x, she asked me to talk about the rage-kitten Jon scenes. I’ve been pretty busy the past few weeks so I didn’t manage to get to it earlier but … a tumblr always pays her debts.

Here is the original message:

I would love to hear your take on the rage-kitten jon scenes: especially the one in the crypts, as it really did nothing to further the narrative if Jon is just a “protective big bro” (the audience already knows this) and the beach scene with Theon.

I’ve already discussed the Theon scene in my “Why the romance between Jon/D*ny doesn’t work” series so this time around we will be talking about the crypt scene between Jon and Littlefinger.

However, in addition to that, we will also be taking a trip down memory lane to that most satisfying and heartwarming of moments in season 6 when Jon beat the living crap out of Ramsay Beelzebub Bolton.

That is because these two scenes are inextricably linked in my mind and together set up and support the romantic undertone that permeates all of the Jon/Sansa scenes.

Bear with me … I have receipts.

After the season finale, when I re-watched both season 6 and 7, I came back to these two scenes time and time again. The way Jon walks over to Ramsay, stone faced, murderous anger bubbling beneath the surface, the way his face twitches when LF says he loves Sansa as he loved Catelyn ... I was struck every time by just how certain I was that I had seen this before somewhere and how romantic motivation popped into my head every single time I watched them.

And then, one fine day, it finally dawned on me. I HAD seen this before, hundreds of times. Twice a year, in fact, from the time I was about 12.

Ladies and gentlemen, I give to you the one … the only … possibly my favorite film of all times …

Now, if you have not seen Goodfellas, what the hell have you been doing with your life? I mean it! Got watch it right now!

For those of you who have seen it … it’s brilliant, right? Now that I’ve mentioned it, don’t you want to go back and watch it again? I know I do. I just looooove watching Joe Pesci violently murder people. What can I say? I’m a romantic, like that …

That being said, I see you all scratching your heads thinking what the hell Goodfellas has to do with rage-kitten Jon. So please indulge me in an experiment and look at the scene where Henry finds out that his girlfriend, Karen, was sexually assaulted by one of her neighbors:

I think you can see the basic gist of what I am talking about but let’s analyze the similarities more in detail. I’ll probably only ever going to get one chance to talk about Goodfellas and Game of thrones in the same meta. You can bet your last dollar I’m going to milk it for what it’s worth!  

The “Jon makes all of our dreams come true” scene:

The first beat that is eerily similar is the slow walk both Henry and Jon do towards their opponent. Even their expression is about the same which is … they have no expression. Their entire focus is on what’s in front of them:

The stone face in cinema is always a telltale of someone going in for the kill. Both Bruce and Ramsay are goners. They just don’t know it yet.

Then there’s the actual fight … I mean, it’s not really a fight … it’s quite frankly a down and dirty whooping that both Jon and Henry dish out, complete with the both of them throwing their opponent to the ground:

This has nothing to do with the meta, but every time I watch this beat I laugh thinking of people saying how shockingly revolutionary violence in GOT is. Scorsese was doing long before them and, quite frankly, doing it better. There’s not one cut in that whole beat. You’re essentially a prisoner of the camera.

The other thing these two scenes have in common is a bit more subtle and requires a larger view of both these characters. Because leaving aside the different time periods, dragons and wardrobes, what both these scenes show us is the violence that these men are capable of.

In Goodfellas, up until this point, the audience has seen Henry as the hero, the good guy. We’ve been lulled into liking him because of his charm, good looks and intelligence and also because he’s always surrounded by psychopaths that kill and hurt people on a whim while he’s stuck being the voice of reason.

So just when we’ve become comfortable with this interpretation of the character, Scorsese gives us 10 veeery loooong and veeery painful seconds of Henry’s unhinged brutality. We can’t hide away from the truth anymore: he’s a thug just like the rest of his “associates”.

The GOT scene is less elegant in its message and perhaps a bit less effective but it essentially tells us the same thing. Jon has been dabbling with violence ever since he left home but we have never seen him be so brutal or so out of control with anyone. Now we know that if you push him hard enough, you’ll find the monster hidden beneath. The fact that it’s Sansa that sparks this revelation, just as Karen does for Henry, is just icing on the cake, really.

The other intriguing thing is that both these scenes end with a relationship set-up between Henry and Karen, as well as Jon and Sansa.

In Goodfellas, this is a patently negative and foreboding event. Henry and Karen have been established as the young, attractive and in love couple, strolling around town and going to the Copacabana for drinks, wearing the latest fashions. But in this scene Henry hands her the gun he’s just used to bash a man’s face in and asks her to hide it. When she accepts, she becomes his accomplice. And that dynamic pays off throughout the rest of the film, as we see Karen smuggle illegal drugs for Henry in prison, accompany him to meet Colombian cartels and flush drugs down toilets as the police descends on their house.

In GOT, the implications of this scene are far more positive. Because Jon does the exact opposite to what Henry does. Far from making Sansa an accomplice to his violent tendencies, he stops himself when she shows up because he doesn’t want her to see him as a monster.

As other Jonsa fans have already mentioned, the creators here employ the “calm to his storm” trope and that’s a very potent storytelling device. Because love is a powerful emotion that can make us behave in extreme ways, both good and bad. But at its best, love compels us to be better, not worse. And that’s what Sansa does for Jon in this scene. She reminds him of his inherent humanity. And that’s pretty damn beautiful.

However, I don’t think we’ve really gotten a proper pay off of this trope and the dynamic that it establishes between these two characters. I suppose you could argue that the battlement scene does that by having Sansa apologize for keeping Jon in the dark about the Knights of the Vale and they end up resolving their trust issues.

Except that season 7 shows us a Jon and Sansa that are still struggling with their relationship, the two of them still sending each other mixed signals and we never get a proper explanation as to what makes them clash as they do.

Add to that the Theon scene where once again the “calm to his storm” trope is brought to the fore and this whole confusing dynamic between them feels like a dangling plot thread that needs to be addressed in season 8.

The “Non-platonic thoughts about Sansa are not allowed in Jon’s presence” scene:

The obvious thing that this scene and the Goodfellas scene have in common is the dialogue. So let’s talk about that. You all know how attached I am to my dialogue:

Henry: I swear on my fucking mother, if you touch her again, you’re dead!

Jon: Touch my sister and I’ll kill you myself.

Now, Henry is a little more verbose and he does take his own mother’s name in vain but you know … he’s half Irish and half Italian. It sort of comes with the territory. But the message is clear: Touch Karen/Sansa and Henry/Jon will kill you.

This phrase of: touch … and I’ll kill you is used a great deal in dialogue for both visual and written storytelling but the important common thread here is the sexual context in which they are both used.

Bruce, Karen’s neighbor, is beaten up by Henry because he tried to rape Karen. So “touch” in that context is unquestioningly sexual in nature.

The Jon/LF is even more loaded because Littlefinger hasn’t actually done anything as terrible to Sansa. Sure, his longing stares, double-entendres and creepy kisses are more than a little problematic, but they’re not in the same league as what Bruce did to Karen. And yet, just the thought that Littlefinger might approach Sansa in that way and that he might touch her in a sexual manner, drives Jon mad.

Also, as others have mentioned, Littlefinger prods and twists Jon for quite some time until he snaps. He talks about his father’s bones, his love for his father’s wife and even brings up Catelyn’s dislike for him, something that probably bothers Jon even more than being called a bastard. And yet, even though it’s clear that Jon doesn’t like LF, he still manages to keep his emotions in check.

The moment he starts losing it this:

Littlefinger: If it weren’t for me, you would have been slaughtered on that battlefield.

Now, people simply take it for granted that Jon dislikes Littlefinger because of what LF has done to his family. But Jon doesn’t know most of what LF has done. He actually doesn’t know much of anything about him. Except this:

Jon: You told me he sold you to the Boltons.

Sansa: He did.

Jon: Do you trust him?

Sansa: Only a fool would trust Littlefinger.

So his sole reason for disliking this man is because of what he did to Sansa. I would suggest that LF bringing up the Battle of the Bastards is yet another reminder for Jon that she had to bring this man there in order to save him.

But then LF, in his desire to find what moves his enemy, ups the ante and boy, does he find out what moves Jon Snow:

And this where that feeling of familiarity strikes me again. I don’t know if Kit Harrington went to the Liotta school of seething rage, but these two facial expressions look very similar to me:

Kit should totally take, at least, the expression class at the Liotta school by the way. No one does crazy, out of my mind psychopathy quite like good ol’ Ray.

The last thing we need to address is the reason why this scene is even included. Unlike the mirror scene in season 1 where Ned chocked LF, where the resolution was LF’s betrayal, there is no direct pay-off to this scene and there never will be. LF is dead and his downfall has nothing to do with Jon.

As @kitten1618x pointed out in her message, it can’t be to show us that Jon is protective of Sansa. That was already established in season 6. We’ve seen him beat Ramsay to a pulp and we’ve also been given this gem:

Jon: I will never let him touch you again. I’ll protect you. I promise!

We’re also going to be given a fresh dose of that in his scene with Tyrion.

There’s just so much of the “Jon is an overprotective older brother who protects his totally platonic but in need of protection sister” shtick we can watch before we start questioning exactly why Jon is so invested in who “touches” Sansa.

I would argue that, considering basic scriptwriting structure as well as the pattern that is established between Jon and the men in Sansa’s life, the pay-off to the Jon/LF scene will come in season 8 and it will have nothing to do with LF and everything to do with the Jon/Sansa dynamic.

PS: I call dibs on red for the wedding. It’s my favorite color, you guys! You have to give me that!

 * none of the GOT gifs belong to me.

#my got meta #jonsa #jon x sansa meta #jon snow #sansa stark #goodfellas #littlefinger #jonsa meta

[of-invisible-ties]

HC: The Cursed Lance’s effect on Valter and his philosophies. 

We're never told what the lance actually did. All we know is that it amplifies your worst traits, so I'm taking that to mean that it takes away your inhibitions. Once your inhibitions are gone, there's nothing stopping you from being your worst self.

According to Duessel, Valter was always a cruel person, but he became markedly more violent after receiving the lance. In my opinion, Valter was always crazy and unhinged, but he was adept at pretending that he was normal. He was likely able to use his good looks to charm people. However, once he took hold of that lance, he no longer cared to hide his true nature anymore. 

You know how he speaks so intricately? Originally, his sophisticated way of speaking was part of the act. He was always careful to keep up an act of propriety and discipline in front of the other six generals. Once the lance killed his sanity/humanity, he still retains his intricate speech patterns, but now he's completely without remorse or hesitation.

In other words, the lance didn’t make him evil. It just brought to the fore what was already brewing beneath the surface. 

Once he showed his true colors, everyone who trusted him was appalled at what he really was. Duessel likely realized that Valter was always a horrible person, but no one believed him until the lance revealed that for all to see. That was why Valter’s banishment was done quickly. The generals and populace felt so betrayed by Valter that Emperor Vigarde had to give him a swift punishment. 

This would contribute to Valter’s current philosophy. He doesn’t see the lance as a bad thing. In fact, he relishes it. In his opinion, he lived his life in a stupor until he got the Cursed Lance. He went to painstaking lengths to keep his reputation intact. The lance had him discard his worries about a reputation, and that made him happy. He enjoys what he’s become, and the worst cruelty you can enact on him is to make him unable to enjoy himself anymore. But that isn’t by killing him. 

Valter accepts death. In a weird way, he thinks it’s fair that he’s at the risk of dying whenever he treads onto the battlefield. If there’s anything he understands, it’s power, and he knows that others do have the power to kill him. If someone bests him in battle, they deserved to because they had more power. The possibility of failure also makes the fight exciting to him. 

So, the worst thing you do to him is render him powerless. The most galling punishment for him isn’t death, but imprisonment; he detests being restrained and being without his weapons. He just wants to have his fill of amusement and bloodshed, and taking away his abilities to reap those for himself would make him angry. 

#ooc #long post// #headcanon #hc #tw: dark themes #tw: death mention

[myaekingheart]

75: Wellness Check

               Shadows danced across the ceiling, the moon overcast by billowy clouds in the sky. Rei buried her face in her pillows and squeezed her eyes shut tight. No matter what, she could not bring herself to sleep. Two months had passed since she broke things off with Kakashi and quite frankly, she had never expected to feel so dead. She thought that what she was doing was for the best. She thought she would feel liberated and determined when untethered but rather she was just lost and chaotic. Her mind was a massive gray splotch—a vacant space where she felt nothing and wanted nothing. Empty. She refused to admit any of that, though. No one was allowed to know she was struggling. She needed to at least maintain the façade that her plan was working.

               She rested a hand atop her stomach and sighed, reminded of her other point of contention. Her pregnancy scare had left her unhinged. If anything, it served as a true confirmation that Kakashi was so far ahead of her in what he wanted out of life. It was unfair to ask him to wait for her while she tried to sort her shit out—if she was ever meant to catch up to him in the first place. At twenty five years old, she still hardly felt like an actual adult. Her apartment was in constant disarray, laundry scattered across the floor so that clean and dirty were almost indistinguishable. She still barely understood how to cook for herself. Her current mental state did her no favors, either. She was, essentially, a massive failure and she wanted nothing to do with anyone. Why bother? They didn’t need that kind of burden in their lives. She didn’t trust herself to get too close to anyone anyway. It was bad enough she couldn’t even keep her best friend alive.  

               Rei was unsure of when she actually fell asleep, but it was midday when she awoke to an aggressive knock on her front door. She creaked her eyes open, every pound of a fist shaking her brain, and stumbled out of bed aching and sticky with sleep.

               “Took you long enough” Sekkachi spat as Rei opened the door. “Five more minutes and I was about to call the cops.”

               Rei rolled her eyes and turned on her heels back toward her bed. Sekkachi followed, skirting around the clutter, before placing a hand on Rei’s shoulder and whipping her around to face her. There was an expectant look on Sekkachi’s face, eyebrow cocked and lips pursed. Rei blinked despondently. “Did you, uh…did you need anything? Or did you just come here to wake me up?” she asked, recoiling in suspicion.

               “Oh my god” Sekkachi groaned, rolling her eyes. “You forgot about today, didn’t you?”

               “Wait, what? What about today?” Rei asked, rubbing her tired eyes.

               “Unbelievable” Sekkachi muttered, raising her hands in surrender as she stalked toward the window. She ripped the curtains back spitefully, overwhelming the room in a blinding glow. Rei cringed and stumbled backward, her eyes burning. “We’re supposed to meet up with Chikara-sensei today?” Sekkachi reminded, spilling with frustration. “I had a feeling you either wouldn’t remember or wouldn’t care enough to show up.”

               Rei thumbed through her memories of the past few weeks, trying to find some hint of the plans she never recalled making. But her brain was fried, everything disorganized and slow, and after a few minutes, she gave up and swatted at the air dismissively. “Well, whatever, we can just reschedule” she yawned, slowly crawling back to bed.

               “Don’t even think about it” Sekkachi growled, tugging her back by her shirt collar. “I will drag you down there in your ripped t-shirt and fucking puppy underpants if I have to. Let’s go.”

               Frowning, Rei tugged the hem of her shirt down to hide her pug panties before making her way to her dresser, muttering an exasperated, “Alright, fine, I’m coming. Fuck.” She threw on a pair of dirty pants, then tugged her shirt off just enough so that it laid around her neck like a scarf, allowing her to fasten her bra on before shimmying back into the tattered tee. Sekkachi chewed the inside of her lip as she watched, arms crossed. Was this really the best she could do? Pathetic. But at least she was coming at all. It was a start.

               Rei followed Sekkachi to the sweet shop, constantly looking down alleyways and over her shoulder for fear of seeing him. Others were beginning to stare, perhaps wondering if she was mentally stable or not. Not that she exactly was mentally stable. Her paranoia was equal parts hilarious and harebrained. She was positive that if fate so cruelly shoved her and Kakashi together in public, her knees would give out and she would break down. She couldn’t risk it. Sekkachi tried to keep some distance for the sake of her own reputation while not losing Rei in the process.  

               “So, uh…what exactly did Chikara-sensei want again?” Rei asked. She brushed her bangs back, her hair a ratty mess. Her ponytail was a knotted puffball on top of her head and her roots were starting to look perhaps a little too greasy. Sekkachi took a while to answer, trying to think of the best way to explain this. Within the lull, however, a sudden realization dawned on Rei. With a sharp gasp, she tugged Sekkachi back in the middle of the street and exclaimed, “This better not be some sort of fucking intervention!”

               Sekkachi rolled her eyes and shook Rei off of her. “Why the fuck would we stage an intervention, Rei?” she asked. Then, cocking a brow, “Why? Do you think you need one?”

               Narrowing her eyes, Rei replied, “You’ve been so damn worried about me lately, saying shit like I’m not socializing enough and that I’m losing too much weight. It only makes sense to think you’re gonna pull some shit.”

               “Rei, I don’t care about you that much” Sekkachi scoffed, then turned and motioned for her to follow. “Chikara-sensei isn’t going to wait all day, and we’re already late enough.” Rei didn’t want to oblige, but she knew she had no choice. Sighing, she rushed to catch up with her comrade and together they ducked into the sweet shop.

               Chikara had already ordered a large sampler of treats by the time they arrived, sipping tea and picking at an assortment of petit fours. A smile touched her lips as she watched her two students approach her table. “I was wondering when you girls would get here” she said, setting her cup down. “The tea is getting cold.”  

               Once settled, Rei huffed and finally asked, “So what is all of this about? How long is this going to take?”

               “You only just got here!” Chikara exclaimed, shaking her head. She plated a variety of cakes and set them in front of Rei, urging her to eat. “Make yourself comfortable and stay a while, won’t you? We have a lot of ground to cover and I don’t want to waste any more time.”

               A lot of ground to cover? What did that mean? This was really starting to sound like more work than Rei cared to get involved with. She took a sip of her tea and looked out across the streets of Konoha, yearning to just climb back into the sweet refuge of her bed.

               Rei’s sluggish mind began to wander then and soon she could barely hear the conversation. She envisioned the sky turning a dark shade of danger, clouds swirling overhead and lightning cracking in the distance. The world would tremble and the ground would crack, and suddenly the gravitational pull of the rift would suck her deep into hell, devoured by blue-hot flames. She could almost feel the tendrils licking at her skin, her brow beginning to sweat, and as she crawled out of her haze she realized she had, in fact, inadvertently ended up in hell. Staring back at her, awkward and frozen across the street, was Kakashi Hatake. Rei blinked and her face turned bright red as he bid her a brief wave, and then she slithered to the ground and disappeared beneath the table.

               Chikara blinked, dumbfounded, then peeked down at her student asking, “What the bloody hell are you doing?”

               Sekkachi glanced over her shoulder, then laughed and kicked Rei lightly. “Hiding from her ex, apparently.”

               Just then, Chikara leaned over to peer across the street, catching sight of Kakashi awkwardly ducking into the nearest shop: the Pink Bookstore. A sandwich board outside advertised the current sale: buy one, get one half price sex toys. Her cheeks flushed but she tried to remain composed. No matter how old they were, she still couldn’t bring herself to accept that these kids she watched grow up now actively partook in such adult activities. In her mind, to some degree they were still just children. Clearing her throat, she smoothed her hair back and replied, “Something tells me he’s finding ways to fill the void.”

               Sekkachi suppressed her laughter as she leaned down to inform Rei that the coast was clear. The redhead cautiously surfaced and climbed back into her seat, brushing her hair back and laughing nervously. Shaking her head, Sekkachi commented, “You really are a lost cause at this point.”

               “No, I’m not” Rei muttered, shielding her face from curious onlookers. She hated the way everyone always seemed to stare. Could they not just mind their own damn business for once? Her existence was of no real importance to them. They were just bored and looking for a hot slice of new gossip fodder. Pathetic.

               Placing her hands squarely on the table, Chikara brought the group back to center. “Now then” she said, straightening her posture, “back to the matter at hand. Rei, what are your thoughts?” By her vacant expression, it was clear to Chikara that Rei han’t been listening at all. Chikara shook her head with a sigh and began her long-winded explanation yet again.

               Kakashi had never really meant to step inside the Pink Bookstore. The minute he realized what he had done, he came face to face with a wall full of vibrators and his cheeks burned bright red. It had been so long since he had last stopped in, his mind obviously elsewhere the past few months, yet being here now made him realize just how much time had truly passed. The store had since been rearranged, and they were much more open about the other supplies they sold—so much so that sex toys now outnumbered their collection of erotic fiction. He made his way to the bookshelves anyway, figuring he might as well take a look while he was there. He scanned the titles until he came across one rather intriguing guidebook titled Making Love: Sex and Healing. It wasn’t typically something that would’ve immediately captured his attention but considering the current circumstances, he couldn’t help himself. He flipped through the pages, skimming the beginnings of each chapter. The majority of the book consisted of anonymous submissions about love, life, and intimacy with the occasional professional opinion or hot tip sprinkled here and there. When he landed upon one anecdote about the connection between sex and the grieving process, Kakashi had made his decision. He approached the checkout counter with money already in hand, paid for the book, and left. When he stepped back outside, Chikara and her students were already gone.

               Sekkachi toyed with her lip piercing as she gazed out across the park. Children ran after each other haphazardly, infectious laughter and flailing limbs. An older man sat at the edge of the lake with a fishing pole and a cigarette. Chikara sat beside her, leaning forward so that her arms rested on her knees. There was a stoic, thoughtful expression on her face. “I really do worry about her” she finally said, voice quiet.

               “Hmm?” Sekkachi asked, turning to her sensei. It took her brain a moment to process the words. “Yeah, I know. I do, too” she then said.

               “I don’t think this breakup was a smart idea at all” Chikara replied. “I don’t trust Rei on her own like this. She needs companionship. She needs to be looked after and taken care of. She needs Kakashi.”

               Sekkachi shook her head. “She won’t listen” she replied. “I’ve tried to tell her this was a bad idea, and they clearly still love each other, but no matter what, she won’t go back to him. She’s fucking delusional, saying she needs independence or some shit. If you ask me, I think she’s just looking for excuses to push everyone away so she can get away with sulking for as long as she wants.”

               Sucking in a sharp breath, Chikara quieted an itch on her forearm and asked quietly, “Has she done it recently?”

               Sekkachi shook her head. “I haven’t noticed anything fresh” she replied. “She might not even have the energy for that.”

               “I’d rather it be that way” Chikara replied. She still vividly remembered the day she found out about Rei’s dangerous habit, at first assuming she was perhaps being abused at home. Her father’s temper was reason enough. Despite their rocky relationship, however, Rei couldn’t possibly stand to let anyone blame her father for something that was not his fault. Sekkachi had caught her in the act one night during an especially rough mission, stealing the kunai from her hands and screaming at her about how stupid she was. Twelve years and she still hadn’t broken the habit. Chikara sighed and toed the ground. “She needs fresh air and sunlight” she replied. “She’s an avid gardener, she should know the same needs are true of humans.”

               Sekkachi didn’t even want to think about Rei’s chakra plants. She still held onto Naru’s, wilting and stinking. She still watered it every day with the hollow hope of revival, as if it was ample repayment for what she had done. Meanwhile, Kakashi’s plant taunted her. She considered getting rid of it but she knew she could never bring herself to do such a thing. Besides, she was far too much of a control freak. She still loved him. She couldn’t afford to lose anyone else. This was the best way to ensure his wellbeing from a safe distance.

               “What she needs” Sekkachi said, lighting a cigarette, “is to get her damn head in the game. It’s like her brain’s got this sticky film all over it that’s making it impossible for her to think straight. Someone needs to barge in there and clean the place up. At this rate, she’s become a fucking raccoon—she stays up all night, she’s got dark circles under her eyes, her apartment is more of a dump than usual.”

               Here, Chikara couldn’t help but laugh a bit. Despite the comedic overtones, Sekkachi’s assessment seemed extremely accurate. If someone didn’t act soon, Rei was surely going to lose herself—mind, body, and spirit. This was in no way healthy and, as her sensei, she couldn’t possibly stand by and watch this happen. “We must do something” Chikara insisted, eyes narrowed and focused.

               Rolling her eyes, Sekkachi took another drag of her cigarette and asked, “Yeah, like what? I’ve tried everything and she refuses to budge.” Then, under her breath, she added, “The stubborn bitch.”

               “We’ll have to tread carefully then” Chikara replied. “If she won’t take the medicine directly, we’ll have to trick her into taking it. Like when you mix cough syrup into a baby’s applesauce. They won’t accept it straight, even if it’s in their best interest, so you have no choice but to be sneaky despite risking their trust.”

               Sekkachi flicked some built-up ash onto the ground and sighed a cloud of smoke. “And if it doesn’t work?” she asked. She already knew the answer. Rei would never speak to either of them ever again, and isolate herself even further.

               Chikara shook her head before standing, straightening her posture and placing her hands on her hips. There was a confidence to her stance, and the way the midday sun struck her only added to the drama and determination. A smile tugged at the corner of her lips as she insisted, “Then we must not fail.”

#kakashi hatake #rei natsuki #the scarecrow and the bell #naruto #naruto oc #fanfiction #ramblings

[inktae]

away from the sun

↳ soulmate au 

◇ pairing: taehyung | reader ◇ genre: fluff and soft angst ◇ word count: 20.409 ◇ warnings: none ◇ author’s note: this story involved a whole lot of research involving many topics (read on if you want to find out hehe). I tried to represent them in the best way I could, but there are probably a few inaccuracies, so I apologize in advance for that. anyway, this is just another long plot with a bit of cheese on the side. please enjoy :) 

Once every five years, when the June solstice arrives and graces the sky with the midnight sun, a comet dashes by.

It is more than just a blinking light that moves at an unhinged speed. According to what you’ve heard, it looks like it stills in the middle of the vastness of space, and its tail flickers and shimmies in long tendrils of vibrant colors full of meaning — a subtle force that speaks to the humans who look up to the stars and set their eyes on the glowing meteorite, unique but just as intense for every single gaze. It speaks of soulmates and fate, of heavy truths and indelible bonds.

Each person sees a different pool of colors. You’ve heard more than a thousand stories, of people who saw the colors of the fireplace and others who were seized by the soothing hues of woodland during dawn. You’ve read about colors that go from the red blush of a beach beneath the sunset to the ivory traces of a wintry hill covered in thick snow. The colors do not give them the name of their soulmates, but once they find their other half, they will see those rich tones reflected in their lover’s eyes.

It is the most fascinating fairytale you have ever heard, and you have a hard time accepting it is all real, even if it’s been a reality that has existed long before you were born. And even if you haven’t been able to stare at the comet with your own eyes, you still look up to the day of your twenty first birthday with a fervor that never dies down. Every time you close your eyes you can almost see the set of colors blinking back at you, thousands of kilometers away but nearer than ever.

And more than knowing how the eyes of your soulmate will look like, you long to feel that exhilaration others are able to describe so distinctly, of getting a glimpse of something that goes beyond anyone’s perception. Something that’s not quite human, yet still feels close to home.

“Hey, the sunset is almost here. Mom will scream at you if she sees you staring out of the window.”

Snapping out of your thoughts, you turn your head towards your older brother, giving him a guilty smile as you get off the windowsill of the living room. Seokjin stands under the threshold of the room with his hands inside his pockets, and his eyes do not hold the usual subtle mirth you always found comfort in. It is easy to read them, going by the way they keep flickering towards the scenery on the other side of the window.

“You look terrified,” your smiles turns more mischievous as you approach him, batting your eyes obnoxiously as he rolls his eyes. “We could trade places, you know. If you are not ready to look at the comet tonight, then I can do it.”

“You keep forgetting you’re only sixteen years old,” he ruffles your hair, fingers playfully digging through the strands and making you whine in pain. “Mom— or anyone with common sense, for that matter, would never let such a young teen look at it.”

“But you’re just eighteen,” you grumble, making him chuckle. “Besides, I’m sure half of my classmates are going to look at it in secret tonight.”

“Hey, I don’t make the rules. Besides, you know it can be dangerous,” he removes his hand from your hair, smile vanishing as his lips form a straight line and his eyes turn serious. “Young people feel the colors more intensely, for some reason. Mom is just afraid you’d run away from home, or do something equally crazy.”

“As if,” you mutter, though you know Seokjin’s absolutely right. Albeit knowing yourself better than anyone, the looming fear of losing your sanity stops you from insisting.

“Waiting five more years seems painful, I know,” he cards his fingers through your hair again, but he’s gentle this time, a reassuring touch that eases some of your frustration away. “But you’ll be twenty one then, and much wiser than you are now. Hopefully.”

You swat his hand away at that, though the smile you give him lets him know his words have had a positive effect.

“Are you afraid because you’re eighteen, then?” you ask, finally voicing the doubt that’s been echoing in your mind ever since the day begun. He grimaces at that, and you know you’ve hit the right spot.

“I never said I was afraid,” he states, though his words fall flat when his voice wavers. “I mean, it is considered the youngest age allowed to look at it. If the authorities say so, then it should be fine… right?”

The fact that Seokjin is actually seeking reassuring words from you makes your mind start reeling, quickly nodding your head with a conviction you do not truly feel.

“Of course. Besides, you already behave and speak like a forty-year old. I’m sure you’ll be fine.”

He whacks your forearm as your chuckles fill the room. The silhouettes of the living room are starting to turn dimmer and softer beneath the beginnings of the sunset, which is already twisting the colors of the sky. As soon as the night descends, the comet will shine clear and bright for millions of eyes to feast on.

You know that the moment the door opens and your mother arrives home from work — which should not take too long now —, you’ll be sent to the guest room to spend the night, which has no windows to look out of. Though you already filled it with countless forms of entertainment, your mind will stay hazy and clouded for the next twelve hours, unexplainable hues of colors you’ve never seen flashing past your mind as you imagine yourself five years into the future, eyes wide and flickering with reflections of ice and dust.

Seokjin is right — it won’t be easy, and it might sting your chest once in a while. But you suppose the wait is worthwhile, knowing that your life will change and spin on a day like this and that your turn to get a glimpse of the universe is set in stone.

You can only hope that Seokjin shares the same need of finding his place within the glowing pigments. Maybe you can live through his own happiness before your turn comes, and hear his stories over and over, of the colors he saw and what they reminded him of. Maybe you’ll also get to hear of his first encounter with his soulmate, and how invigorating it feels to complete the bond with the person he’s meant to be.

Until then, you can only wait.

/

Two years later you’re standing on top of a hill, gasping for air after walking up a precarious trail for more than thirty minutes.

The sun is starting to go down, and the scenery beneath the mountain is nothing short of breathtaking. Though it’s your first time visiting this town, there’s a sense of warmth and closeness as your eyes survey the small, charming houses that spread in rows and rows across the land. Narrow streets worm their way between the buildings, old and new, almost struggling through the clustered town that seems to burst with houses and farms. Much farther away land turns into coast, forming a weaving shoreline that extends boundlessly. The sea is calm today, bashful under the bright sunset, and it makes you wonder if it’s like this every day, waves always hiding under the blue surface.

You wipe your clammy hands against the fabric of your light jacket, taking a long breath and wishing you were visiting this place for other reasons. To meet your soulmate, for example, or accompanied by your friends with the sole purpose of relaxing and forgetting about the real world.

Reluctantly, you tear your eyes away from the view to focus on the building that rises high in front of you. It is your first time seeing an observatory up close, and you can’t help but feel extremely intimidated as your eyes slide up and down. Three stories tall and topped with a dome, the building clearly carries countless years of history, jagged and weak-looking, but appealing nonetheless. The sunset casts sharp shadows over the red brick walls and shines above the white dome, giving it an eerie glow that makes you feel like you’ve entered an entirely new dimension.

You take another deep breath as you start walking towards the door, eyes swiping over the name engraved above the entrance. Reading the words Kim Observatory makes your heart beat a little easier, assuring you that you’re in the place you’re supposed to be.

Your legs feel like jello and your weak hands tremble as cool gusts of air ruffle your hair. The rising cold prickles at your cheeks and you almost take it as a sign to turn around and leave, but then you remember who is it you’re doing this for, and your thoughts shut down as your hand finally reaches towards the bell and presses down.

It happens too fast, then — suddenly someone’s opening the door in a hasty, fast movement that makes you jolt, and all you can see is a tall frame and wide eyes blinking through clunky glasses before you’re dragged into the darkness.

It is not completely dark, but the lights are distinctively dim as the tall boy pushes you towards a set of unreliable stairs that squeak under your shoes. Your heart’s ramming against your chest as a deep voice eats at your ears, excited words quickly mingling together, and you’re too stunned to make any sense of them as your mind struggles to come up with a retort.

The only thing stopping you from tearing his hands away from your shoulders and bolting outside of the building is the fact that this is the Kim Observatory — and everyone remotely interested in the comet knows that this is the place that holds all of the answers. You don’t really know what that entails, but you’re aware that coming here was the right choice. Even if your mind is currently frozen in fear, and even if your legs keep tripping and stumbling as he guides you upstairs.

He lets you take a long breath when you reach the third floor, not as dim under the natural glow of the rising night that filters through an opening in the rounded roof of the dome. The moment your mind becomes clear you’re finally able to focus on his words, eyes widening as he walks towards a large table cluttered with foreign objects and messy stacks of papers.

“…let me find the list of candidates, I swear it was around here. Jimin, did you move it again?”

It is then that you notice the third person in the narrow room, who’s giving you an apologetic smile from his spot on a timeworn couch placed against the wall. He gets up, completely ignoring the other man’s words as he walks towards you and extends his hand in your direction. His pale pink hair looks striking under the moonlight, and a white lab coat covers lean figure, reaching down his thighs and making him look even smaller.

“I’m sorry for that. I’m Park Jimin, nice to meet you,” he shakes your hand, and it’s then that you realize your lips are still parted. You close them rapidly, blushing in embarrassment as you squeeze back before letting go.

“I’m sorry, but… I don’t know what’s going on.”

“I figured,” Jimin sighs, speaking in a low tone as he glances back at the other man, who seems to be too lost in his thoughts as he continues to rummage through the chaos on the table. “You didn’t apply for the job, did you?”

You blink at that, feeling more confused than ever. “I… no, I didn’t. What job?”

“Jimin!”

“Sorry, wait,” Jimin runs towards the table as the other man steps back, taking his glasses off as he closes his eyes tightly. You can only stare as he rubs at them, a grimace forming on his lips as Jimin continues to search diligently. He finds the sheet of paper in a matter of seconds, and the dark haired man puts on his glasses again, giving Jimin a grateful smile before squinting at the handwritten words.

He finally looks at you, making your stiffen.

“Are you Minji?”

You shake your head, opening your lips to clear it up, but Jimin beats you to it.

“Taehyung, Minji is Yoongi’s girlfriend, remember? we met her the other day at school. Besides, she only said she’s willing to help out during her free weekends.”

The man, Taehyung, only rolls his eyes at Jimin’s words. “We met her during the day, Minnie. How do you expect me to remember how she looks like? Anyway, I took that as a yes. I’ll keep her on the list.”

“Can someone tell me what’s going on?” you finally intervene, head swimming and sight turning fuzzy. “I literally did not understand a word you just said. I just… I just came here because I was told I could find answers here—”

Jimin lifts his hands, making you realize your voice started to rise in the heat of the moment. You allow your voice to vanish, cheeks burning in a fiery blush as you purse your lips.

“Sorry. I’m just… I came here looking for the man in charge.”

“And that would be me,” Taehyung lifts his hand, giving you a dazzling smile. “I’m Kim Taehyung. Sorry about that crazy welcome, by the way. I thought you were here for the job and I got too excited,” his voice stalls then, allows the silence to stretch for a few seconds before his features light up. “Wait. Are you unemployed right now?”

“I… yes, I am, but—”

“Oh, that’s perfect. Jimin, write down her information, I’m going to start preparing the telescope. You don’t mind doing a quick job interview, do you?” he asks as he walks towards the large, heavy equipment placed under the opened roof, quick words firing past his lips in a way that Jimin seems thoroughly used to.

Your heart starts racing again, stomach churning under the overwhelming turn of events. Jimin picks up a blank sheet of paper and signals you to come closer, eyes soft and gentle as he sits down with a pen in hand. You sit on the chair placed next to his, swallowing as you look back at Taehyung. The latter keeps waltzing across the place, humming under his breath and looking completely engrossed in his own thoughts.

“Look…” Jimin sighs, and the way he lowers his tone indicates he doesn’t want Taehyung to hear his following words. “Me and Taehyung are the only ones keeping this observatory alive. The town actually wanted to shut it down, since too many expenses are going to the maintenance of the equipment, but he’s been so adamant in keeping this place in one piece, and—” he swallows, seemingly overcome with emotions, and something tugs at your chest at the way his eyes turn forlorn. “I have to leave town, but he needs another assistant if he wants to keep running the place just as smoothly.”

You find your words a few seconds later, and your voice is barely a whisper when you open your mouth. “He only needs an assistant?”

“This job entails more than that. It’s just a way to call it,” Jimin smile, a secretive curve of lips that hides countless experiences, a past you cannot imagine. “It’s precisely how important it is that we’re having a hard time finding people for the job. Not many want to work for Taehyung, and that… that breaks my heart.”

You still at his words. “Why is that?”

“Okay, I’m done here. Did you take her information, Jimin?”

Jimin bolts at Taehyung’s booming voice, turning his head around as he laughs nervously.

“Ah, I’m on it!” Jimin turns back to the blank sheet of paper, starting to write the words Job Application #3. Jimin leans closer then, a slight shift that makes you perk up. “Can you just humor him, at least? Please. I’m sure he’d appreciate it. Besides, you said you came here looking for answers…” a smile graces his lips, seemingly confident he’s about to convince you with his next words. “You can get them afterwards, as a reward. He’s not one to give out important information to a stranger, but I’ll ease him into it.”

It is undoubtedly tempting, and you find yourself already giving in at the prospect of getting your questions answered. It is just a job interview, after all — it is not committing to the actual job, nor is it taking the seemingly huge responsibility of being Kim Taehyung’s assistant. You might ridicule yourself through the process, because you are no astronomy expert and your job experience is limited to crowded bakeries and small cafés — but it does not truly matter if that means taking one step closer to the truth.

You find yourself giving your information to a beaming Jimin, who writes it down in earnest, smooth traces of black ink. He gets up when you’re done and you quickly follow his movements, hands clammy again as the rising nerves bubble up your chest.

“Thank you, Y/N,” he continues to grin, reading your name on the paper before flickering his eyes back to your face. His voice is filled with gratification and you can’t help but smile back, nodding quietly. “Taehyung will take over now.”

You finally slide your gaze towards the telescope. Taehyung is sitting on the plump chair that accompanies it, already staring intently into your eyes. It almost makes you lean back, even though there are already a few feet of distance between you both.

Jimin hands him the paper sheet, and his eyes slowly swipe over the written words, analyzing the clean handwriting.

“Do you need help with that?” Jimin asks him, standing by his side with a closeness that seems comfortable for the both of them.

“It’s fine,” Taehyung murmurs, giving you a smile as he gives the information back to Jimin. “Y/N, right?”

You nod, posture stiff as your fingers dig into your thighs. You start rubbing at your knees while Taehyung continues to gaze silently, swirling gently on the rotating chair as his unnerving stare burns into your face.

“You’re eighteen, so you graduated high school not too long ago,” he starts, making your heart skip a beat. “How did you do in math and physics?”

“Decently… I think,” you grimace at the clear disinterest in your words. High school was just a stepping stone for you, so you did not put in as much passion as you should have — you were reserving it for the future, though your dreams have been stalled now that you decided to take an entirely different path. One of seeking answers that might be too hard to find.

Taehyung starts asking you about the subjects, then — concepts that you are fortunately able to remember, such as slightly complicated math operations and the main laws of physics that currently rule the universe. You trip over your words here and then and some of your answers are full of doubt instead of confidence, but Taehyung does not seem put off at all. He looks elated instead, briefly allowing you to really look at his features and the way they seem to soften under the moonlight.

The night has fully settled now, but the colors of the sky are still rich and glaring as they pour onto the observatory. It illuminates every single corner, from the frayed couch to the littered table and the countless foreign objects misplaced on the floor. The chaos clearly rules the room, but Taehyung and Jimin seem utterly comfortable with it, fond, even. A calm smile, faint and barely there, is fixed on Taehyung’s lips as his eyes continues to inspect your own, and you can’t help but give him the same scrutinizing look as your eyes trace the large glasses he’s wearing and the soft-looking hair that falls on his forehead. He looks young, not at all like the mad scientist you expected to see, and you inevitably grimace at the absurd stereotype that formed in your head long before you came here.

“Okay, that’s enough,” he says after the vague answer you give him for his sixth question. Feeling slightly mortified at your notorious lack of knowledge, you try to ignore the fiery flush that spreads across your neck and ears as he signals you to come closer. He gets up and pushes the chair away, and his next words immediately freeze you in place.

“Look through the telescope and tell me what you see.”

You give him a bewildered look, briefly taken aback by his closeness. “Um— I’ve never…”

“That’s okay, Jimin will help you.”

The latter swiftly appears at the mention of his name. Jimin gives you an encouraging smile before he briefly explains how to gaze through a telescope, where to touch and where to look, and his explanations are simple enough for your anxious heart rate to go back to normal. You follow his instructions hesitantly, not daring to touch the instrument too much as you lean closer to the eyepiece.

A gasp gets stuck in your throat when your eye finally focuses on the sky. You almost forgot one of the reasons this town is known for — though small and faraway, almost forgotten behind the big, shiny cities that entice with their countless forms of entertainment, its lack of overflowing lighting allows a raw view of the night sky and the endless universe that lies behind the clouds. In a town like this, one light show in particular shines the brightest, a sight you would never find in any other city.

“What do you see?” Taehyung asks, dragging you out of your reverie.

“The sungrazing lights,” you speak up, and your own voice sounds distant in your ears. You notice some reverence laced in them, still in awe as you continue to look through the telescope.

“Can you tell me what you know about them?”

“They’re similar to the aurora borealis— the only difference is that the sungrazing lights are actually all over the planet, not just the northern and southern hemispheres,” you explain, staring at the waves of lights that entangle with each other. “No one really knows why they’re always up there, or where they come from. We’ve just accepted their existence, just like the Yugen comet.”

You finally lean back, blinking as you adjust your sight to your surroundings. Taehyung and Jimin are both giving you quiet, unreadable stares, and you place a strand of hair beneath your ear as you look away bashfully.

“That’s just what I’ve heard. I don’t really know anything about it.”

Taehyung grabs at your wrists then, bringing your hands closer to him and making you shriek in surprise. The way he’s staring into your eyes makes you squirm, though you are not be able to tell if it’s in a good or a bad way.

“Please, let me hire you.”

You find Jimin’s eyes then, connecting your bewildered ones with his soothing stare as he gives you another one of his reassuring smiles. Your heart is galloping wildly at this point, and Taehyung is still staring in that fervent way that makes your insides rattle, thoughts running a hundred miles per hour as you start considering all of the possibilities, all the consequences your following words could bring.

Saying no means leaving as soon as possible, not without finally voicing your questions out loud and hoping for an accurate answer that could give you a new lead. Saying no means a fifty-fifty chance of leaving with a new direction.

Saying yes means working with Taehyung. Working with Taehyung means getting a glimpse of his seemingly unbounded knowledge; it means settling, at least for a while, while conducting your own personal research on the side. It means finding an answer and a place to stay.

Because you did not plan to return home, not yet, at least. You knew, the moment you packed your things and stepped outside of the only home you’ve ever known, that searching for your lost brother would not take you one day or two. He has been missing for two years, after all, and one answer from Kim Taehyung is not going to lead you to his whereabouts in the blink of an eye. You know a question will only lead to another, and that you will find yourself walking into countless paths that have no exit.

Maybe this is what you need, you realize. Maybe a fresh start will put things into perspective, one that might illuminate the right path and lead you towards the real exit.

And even if you do not know what being Kim Taehyung’s assistant truly entails, you figure there are some risks worth taking, especially if they mean getting one step closer to your brother.

You nod, and Taehyung’s smile widens. There’s a warm inkling forming within your chest already, one filled with hope and anticipation, surrounded by the lukewarm assurance that comes from right decisions and bright prospects.

You just took your first step, and maybe this was the first answer you needed all along.

Three years later

You glance at your wrist watch, fidgeting on the spot as a loud huff leaves your mouth. There are only ten minutes left before the first class starts, and you can already imagine the students congregated in the room, waiting for their occasionally punctual teacher to arrive. You do not need for Taehyung to take it slow now of all times, and the impatience is rapidly winding up your muscles as your feet starts tapping the floor. Loudly.

It takes you ten seconds to give in, walking up the stairs again after dropping your bag next to the main door. You pass the second floor — where two small bedrooms are located — and saunter straight to the dome, knowing there’s a hundred percent chance of finding Taehyung there.

Just as you expected, you find the man snoozing on the table, face hidden in his arms and body almost falling off the chair. Striding in his direction, you don’t hesitate to jab at his shoulders hastily, forcing a sleepy groan past his lips.

“Damn it, Taehyung. Did you stay up until late again?”

He groans again, making you exhale. Patience.

“I shouldn’t have to deal with this. I’m your assistant, not your mother.”

He finally stirs at your frazzled voice, lifting his head and blinking sleepily before closing his eyes shut again.

“The blinds. Close them.”

Some of your anger vanishes when you finally notice the brightness of the room. You both usually keep the windows open during the night, but it seems like it slipped past your mind to close them afterwards this time. You shut them down in a hurry, only a faint glow allowed inside as the sunlight grows unmistakably dimmer between the walls.

“Thanks,” Taehyung’s up now, putting on his dark shades and blocking the sight of his eyes from your own gaze. He’s grinning and you huff again, though there’s a tiny smile lifting your lips now.

“I’m still mad, you know. Get up, the class is supposed to start in…” you look at your watch again, a long sigh getting stuck in your throat. “Five minutes.”

“I still have yesterday’s clothes on.”

“Yoongi said he’d kick your ass if you were late again.”

“Ooookay, let’s go,” he grabs his satchel off the table and sprints towards the door, making you laugh out loud as you follow him downstairs. Gone are the days when you witnessed his movements in silent awe, stunned at the flawless way he navigated himself within the walls of the house slash observatory.

Learning about his condition and living with it every day only made you realize how trivial it was, at least most of the time — just like his characteristic boxy smile, or his particular taste for old-fashioned glasses or his sun-kissed skin that glows under daylight, it is just another trait of him; one that does not define him, even if most people who don’t know him think otherwise. It is just one more little thing joined to his other countless attributes, all fixed together in harmony and forming the essence that is Kim Taehyung.

A young genius who loves space and being late.

Taehyung puts on the usual cap he wears for daylight, shadowing his face from the sun as you both run out of the observatory. You have no time to gaze at the view on top of the hill like you always do — you can only focus on your own ragged breathing as you try to keep up with Taehyung’s pace, whose long legs allow him to double your own speed.

He knows the walk to the school by memory, and he does not need you to guide him in any way — which only reminds you he can leave you behind in any second. Another thing you’ve learned after working with Taehyung for three years is that he can be very vengeful sometimes.

“Slow down, will you?” you gasp as he practically jumps down the hill. “We’ll get hit by a car if we keep up this crazy pace.”

“Not happening. I’m too scared of Yoongi,” he pants, two or three steps ahead of you as he tilts his head in your direction.

“You’re just mad I used that against you.”

He doesn’t look at you, but you can see the smile lifting his cheeks. “Maybe. Hurry up, we need to run if we want to get there on time!”

You don’t mention you’re going to be late no matter what, and that he’d need teleportation powers to actually start the class at eight am. You don’t think you could speak, anyway. Taehyung won’t stop until you get to the school, and all you can do is try to breathe as your tired legs send a burning sensation up your body and your chest aches with the urge to rest.

It takes you half the usual time to get there. The school is relatively close to the observatory, eight minutes away by foot and located near the liveliest area of the town. It is flanked by sugar maples and enclosed by snug houses, only two blocks away from the commercial main road.

Once again, you cannot allow yourself to observe your surroundings. By the time you’ve reached the school you’re wheezing, breaths loud as you walk through the empty hallway that leads to the classes. Taehyung hushes you and you give him a long glare, and even if he can’t see it, you hope he feels it on his skin.

Taehyung crouches down when the shrill sound of instruments grow louder, and you can’t help but laugh when you realize you’re passing the door of the music room, the small window on top allowing you to get a glimpse of the inside. Taking a quick peek, your eyes quickly find the focused stance of music teacher Min Yoongi as he prepares the school band for practice.

“He didn’t see us, did he?” Taehyung mutters, straightening up and stopping in front of his own classroom, only a few feet away.

“Oh, he did. I think he mouthed the words, tell Taehyung he’s done.”

“Very funny,” his hand touches the handle of the door, head tilting in your direction. You wish you could see his eyes right now, but the lights of the hallway have always shined with blazing lights, as if to wake up the sleepy students that come straight away from dreamland. Taehyung never dares to take off his dark shades inside, and with good reason. “No noise. That’s a good sign.”

Taking a look through the window of the door, a fond smile quirks your lips at the seated students that whisper amongst each other — no mess in sight.

“They really care about you, you know.”

Taehyung huffs, but there’s a somewhat embarrassed smile brightening his features and the hint of a blush coloring his cheeks.

“Well, who doesn’t love a mad scientist?”

He opens the door then, raucous voice making the students jump. You hide a chuckle behind your hand as you start following your everyday routine, movements instinctive as you take out Taehyung’s notes from your own bag and start writing today’s topic on the chalkboard. Meanwhile, Taehyung commences the class with a poise and a casualness that keeps reminding you of how good he is at teaching, even if you’re dealing with sulky fifteen year olds that could very well turn on him in any second. But their behavior always seems to switch for the better whenever it’s time for physics, which has earned Taehyung a solid reputation amongst the teachers of the school.

Being the cool teacher does not mean he lets things slide, though. You cannot help but smile at the following words that resonate through the room, quickly mixed with groans and sighs from the students that you’ve come to know very well.

“I didn’t forget about last week’s homework, by the way. Come on, hand it in. I think I’ll make it ten percent of your final grade.”

It is a great routine, indeed.

/

Being Kim Taehyung’s assistant involves a lengthy number of tasks, but above all, it means working with him, not for him.

Only three days passed after your perplexing job interview before you were informed of Taehyung’s condition. You can recall the moment with clear vividness, because it is the only time you’ve ever gotten a glimpse of Taehyung’s personal life, which lies on the other side of a thick wall that still stands high and mighty within your working relationship.

“I have complete congenital achromatopsia,” he explained that day, and you can remember how easily the words rolled off his tongue, so casual and nonchalant. “Which means I grew up unable to perceive colors. My eyes are also very sensitive to the light, and I can barely see a thing if it’s too bright outside or indoors — but I can get by with normal glasses if it’s dark enough. I’m only farsighted, fortunately,” and he ended that with a laugh.

You did not have time to delve into your faint surprise. Taehyung quickly followed his words with the tasks you needed to take over, making you pull out a notebook and a pen to scribble down the rapid words that flew past his lips. The more he told you about your involvement in the observatory and the school, the more you understood how important this job was, and how hard you needed to work if you wanted to follow the path Jimin paved for you.

You needed to grade exams and help him prepare the classes in the afternoon, because the nights solely belonged to research and observation, and Taehyung was very rigorous about that. It did not take you long to realize how deeply implicated he was in one topic in particular — and that was the mystery of the Yugen comet and the sungrazing lights.

Taehyung already published papers, countless of them, put theories together that are now recognized by scientists whose names you’ve undoubtedly heard before. He has, quite literally, dedicated all of his life to the enigmatic lights in space.

And paired with this realization, another detail became fully clear to you as the weeks and months passed — which is that Taehyung is an utterly absorbed workaholic.

Ironically so, he barely mentions the topic of soulmates, which plays a huge part in his main researches. The only time he did happened two years ago, when the question slipped past your lips during a particularly calm night of investigation.

You needed to know his stance of them, almost trembled with curiosity and wonder after mulling about it for so long. But the answer he gave you froze the blood cursing through your veins, turning your skin cold before a rush of heat spread across your cheeks.

Because how could you not realize it before —

“Did you forget I can’t see colors?” he wondered, smirking as he lifted his gaze towards the speckled night sky. “You can only know your soulmate and form the bond by looking at them. I can’t, so no soulmate for me— unless they find me, of course. But it is still bad news for them, since for me it is just a ridiculous, commercialized concept. People mistook this… strange chemical reaction for some romantic play of destiny, and now society is milking it for all it’s worth. How funny is that?”

And that was the last talk of soulmates you had.

You know there’s another one coming soon, though. The June solstice is finally here, and even though you’ve stuck to your routine as the day drags down with its usual fast pace, the realization that today is the day springs to the top of your mind every five minutes, stalling your movements and making you blink in mild awe. It’s as if your subconscious is being highly insistent on keeping you from forgetting about it — a simmering fear curling and burning low on your stomach at the prospect of accidentally missing it, and having to wait another five years.

The feeling is not one of excitement, though. It almost feels like an obligation, one you’re not too keen on going through, because your mother and brother’s history can only remind you that luck with soulmates definitely does not run in your blood. It might be easier to pass it up, to focus on the piles of work Taehyung gives you every morning, but you know the what ifs would plague you for another five years — you just don’t have it in yourself to wait again. You have been patient enough, even if the comet now leaves a bittersweet taste in your mouth instead of the magical flutter that used to make your eyes glint.

Classes at school pass in a daze. It is almost a blur as you pick up piles of homework, and time seems strangely fuzzy as you and Taehyung meet up with Yoongi and Hoseok — the PA teacher known for his bright smile, and the number one crush of the giggling schoolgirls —, casually discussing about your students over bland coffee.

No one mentions your disoriented state, but there’s a hunch nagging at the back of your head as you walk back home with Taehyung, who’s been unusually silent ever since you left the school.

“Spill,” he says after crossing the main door, making you sigh.

“Isn’t it obvious?” you wonder, placing your jacket on the hanger. The thick curtains are drawn and it is almost pitch black inside, so you occupy yourself with a couple of dim lamps, turning them on so they give off enough glow to illuminate the silhouettes.  

“The comet? But… you never saw it before?”

You turn around at his surprised tone, frowning. “I was sixteen last time.”

He takes off his shades, and it is almost relieving to get a glimpse of his eyes again. You still have no idea why the sight of them eases the tension off your shoulders, but you stopped looking for a logical explanation months ago.

“Ah, I keep forgetting you’re two years younger than me,” he smiles, eyes unfocused as he rummages through his bag to get a hold of his normal glasses. Even though he only considers himself farsighted when the lights are dull enough, his sight is still evidently blurry, going by the way he wholly depends on his reading glasses within the darkness — and even so, he rarely gets to experience any sharpness with his own eyes.

You smile, taking off his hat to place it on top of your jacket. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“It’s still a little surprising. I looked at the comet when I was around thirteen.”

“Christ,” you blurt out, air leaving your lungs. “What for?”

He only snorts, putting on his glasses before starting to walk towards the stairs. “Well, I was desperate to know if it’d still work while not seeing any colors, that maybe my sight would heal miraculously or something. It didn’t.”

There are no heavy emotions in his voice, and you wonder if thirteen year old Taehyung spoke with the same aloofness when referring to the comet. You doubt it, especially at that age — when things hit you the hardest and your feelings are the most alive but also the most confusing. The image of a younger version of Taehyung crying hits you then, making your chest tighten. You push it away just as fast, following Taehyung up the stairs.

You bump against him when he abruptly stops after reaching the slightly murky dome, barely lit up within the closed curtains. He yells five seconds later, sprinting forward to embrace a smiling Jimin in a tight hug. Silently stunned, you wait until Taehyung lets him go to give him a welcoming smile, which Jimin returns just as brightly.

“What are you doing here? I thought you’d be visiting next week,” Taehyung pats his back strongly, and the dry sound echoes against the walls as Jimin grimaces in pain.

“Just.. wanted it to be a surprise,” he scratches the back of his head, looking bashful under your intent stares. “How are you guys doing?”

Taehyung scrutinizes him for a few seconds, eyes narrowing as Jimin all but shrinks under his unwavering gaze. “Hmm, what a coincidence, coming here on the day of the comet. Are you sure it’s just a normal visit?”

“Actually…” he clears his throat, redirecting his gaze to you. “I wanted to have lunch with Y/N, if you guys didn’t mind.”

The words take a few seconds to register. Taehyung reacts faster, though — waving his hand dismissively as he walks towards the cluttered table.

“If she wants to, go ahead. I need to record some stuff for my research, anyway,” he says casually. Knowing Taehyung and his obsessive ways, he’s most definitely telling the truth.

“We’ll be back,” Jimin adds as Taehyung opens his laptop. “I expect you to give me some of your free time by the time we come back, you need to stop working so much.”

“Sure. Have a nice meal!” he replies cheerily, throwing you both a quick smile before flopping down on the chair and opening the text to speech software. Jimin sighs before turning to you, signaling towards the exit with a muted smile. You give Taehyung one last hesitant look before walking away, still feeling helplessly confused as you take the stairs down.

“Don’t worry, there’s nothing wrong,” Jimin assures you when you’re both out into the sunlight. You can’t help but squint at the sharp brightness, hitting your eyes mercilessly after the gentle glow of the interior.

“You want to talk about Taehyung, then?” you wonder as you both walk side by side. Jimin lets out a silent sigh, hands inside his pockets as he saunters down the hill.

“About a lot of things. But it’s not serious, I promise. I just want to… keep up with things. Ask a few more,” he chuckles. His hair is not pink anymore, but rather a soft shade of brown that fits him naturally. The last time you saw him was four months ago, and he does not look much different — a little bit leaner, maybe, and if you look closely there are hints of tiredness clinging to his features, but his smile is still the same and his eyes have never lost their warmth.

He takes you to a small restaurant you’ve come to know very well over the years — located close to the shore, it mainly serves seafood, and the salty smell of the sea is faint and moderate as it weaves through the dining tables. You’re both seated right next to the large windows, which allow a breathtaking sight of the calm waves that glint under the sun rays.

“So… what is it?” you ask him after ordering your drinks.

Jimin, quietly sitting in front of you, sighs as his eyes slide towards the scenery of the outside. The lights are razor-sharp on your skin, and it almost feels out of place to be able to glance at Jimin with so much clarity, eyes never squinting nor trying to delineate any fuzzy shapes. It makes you wonder if it feels the same for him, even if he has not worked for Taehyung in almost three years.

“He was right. I came today because… well. The comet. You told me you’d be looking at it this year the last time we saw each other.”

You lean back, biting your lip while cursing Jimin’s ability of making you spill with terrifying ease. Every time he visited you ended up alone with him, somehow — and every time he prodded, every time you gave in. This time is no different.

“Yeah, I guess I will,” you play with a napkin absentmindedly, feeling strangely nervous all of a sudden. “Why are you showing interest? Aren’t you living with your soulmate already?”

“I am,” he smiles, eyes gently flickering at the memories of his soulmate. “It’s because of Taehyung. I doubt he has said anything, but he’s probably worried sick right now, you know. Wondering if you’ll leave after seeing the colors to search for your soulmate. I didn’t leave right away when it happened to me, but… it did play an important part in my decision,” his smile evaporates, eyes lowered as he continues to speak in a mellow tone. “So. I just want to know what you’re thinking, or if he has said anything…”

“He hasn’t. Look… I’m terrified,” you blurt out, words a little bit too loud. You try to contain yourself, a fiery blush quickly crawling up your skin. “I don’t really want to do it, but I feel like it’s something I should know. I want to stop feeling like I’m waiting for something. Whatever… colors I see, I’ll probably stay in the observatory, so don’t worry about that. I’ll just close that chapter and move on.”

Jimin nods, though he doesn’t look very pleased yet. “And what about your brother? you should tell Taehyung about it. I’m sure he’d help you.”

Ah, the other reminder that your subconscious is always painfully aware of. You almost tear the napkin in half, and a long exhale slips past your lips as you keep your breathing in check.

“Nothing yet. My only lead is still that vague call mom got two years ago. He told her he was okay, but… not hearing it from him myself is just— painful. I’ve been monitoring a few websites where people talk about their not so happy experiences with the comet. And the other lead you gave me didn’t work, either,” you gulp, blinking away tears of frustration. “Taehyung is just too focused in his research. I don’t want to burden him—”

“Aren’t you guys friends?”

Jimin parts his lips in quiet bewilderment at your sudden silence.

“We— we are! Kind of. Well, not very close,” you stammer, placing your hands on your lap. The napkin is already shredded to pieces, lying in messy bits on top of the table. “I mean. How do I get closer to someone like him?”

Jimin narrows his eyes. “Like him how?”

“I didn’t mean it like that,” you shake your head, nerves rising even faster. “He’s just… I can’t… keep up with him. No matter how hard I try. I’m not you, Jimin,” you can feel your shoulders slumping and your lips twisting into a grimace. It is not something you ever voiced before, and it feels both mortifying and relieving to let it out. “He’s always so overwhelming. And that’s— that’s a good thing. I like that. But no matter how hard I try to stay by his side, I always feel like I’m one step behind. Besides, he’s not too fond of sharing, either.”

He grabs your hand then, fingers caressing your wrist and easing some of the building tension stirring under your skin. “Y/N, he was reserved with me and I’ve known him ever since he was six years old and had no front teeth.”

His words are definitely reassuring, and a smile replaces your pout at the mental image. Placing your elbow above the table, you rest your cheek on the palm of your hand, muscles slowly starting to unwind.

“What should I do, then? All we talk about is… work. And more work. Sometimes we fight over which coffee brand to buy, but other than that, there’s nothing much.”

Jimin’s eyes light up at your words. “You’re still living together, then? It’s honestly surprising.”

A recollection of images springs to the front of your mind, one that’s strangely vivid amidst your cluttered memories. It happened two months after you started working for Taehyung. You’d been living in a hostel for the time being, not really sure of what to do about your accommodations since you accepted the job so abruptly. One cloudy morning, Taehyung offered you to take the spare bedroom — it was sudden, no buildup whatsoever, but your answer was just as startling, if not more.

“I know. I think he wants to kick me out sometimes,” you chuckle, eyes glazing with fondness. “He’s so damn stubborn with the supper. We have to get his favorite brands or we don’t get the food — how did you manage to live with that?”

“Just like you are. Barely,” Jimin snickers, and the worry that was etched in his features is finally dissolving. “Anyway… I’m kinda glad to see things are not that bad. Just… try and get a bit closer to him, yeah? It won’t hurt any of you.”

“He’s my boss, though.”

He arches an eyebrow. “And you’re living together.”

The blush that blossoms across your cheeks is completely involuntary. You avert your eyes, feeling strikingly sheepish. “Yeah, you got me there.”

“Honestly…” Jimin muses, voice lower than usual. You drag your eyes back to him and you definitely do not like the playful look he’s giving you, heart stuttering at what might be hiding behind them. “It’s also strange how nothing has happened between you both. I mean, you’re only humans with needs—”

You might start burning up in any second now. “Stop. Don’t go there.”

It stops there, fortunately — and the conversation does not delve into that topic again, switching to more trivial matters concerning the town and the other teachers at the school. Overall, the meal is thoroughly enjoyable, and you feel like it’s been ages since you spoke so much about things that were not work related. It takes you a while to notice the shift in your gestures and the way you smile, but it’s easy to point out the source: you are not scared of the comet anymore. Still nervous, but not terrified, at least.

You are not sure what changed your mindset, but you can only feel deeply thankful towards Jimin, and your chest feels light and your steps are weightless as you both go back to the observatory, a peaceful smile fixed on your face.

You hold onto the hope that it might not turn out entirely disastrous when the sunset drops. After all, you still have the observatory, which became an unexpected home after three years.

No matter what happens, you’re completely sure it’ll be there for you, always embracing you under its satisfying darkness.

/

“Taehyung?”

You quickly realize your voice is unwelcome — Taehyung’s recording something on his computer, and the look he gives you as you enter the dome makes you wince. The brightness of the screen has made him averse from typing, choosing instead to voice out anything he needs registered.

You decide to wait, walking towards the closed windows as Taehyung’s low tone fills the room. He’s recording tomorrow’s physics class, which you’ll have to read over later. Though he’s only talking about magnetic fields, his voice is exceptionally pleasant, making your nerves simmer down as you lift the curtains gently and take a peek outside. Sunset is approaching fast, and the time left for the comet is now reduced to minutes.

You pinpoint the moment he’s done, shutting down his laptop as he gets up from the chair. Given by the way he digs his hands inside his pockets and leans against the table, all in complete silence, you realize he’s probably aware of what kind of conversation is about to take place.

“You don’t have to work with me tonight if you don’t want to,” he starts, meeting your eyes through his glasses. He doesn’t sound angry, or elated — just indifferent, and that knowledge is strangely frustrating. “I mean— it’s an important night. I’ll need to make a lot of observations since I only get this chance once every five years. And your help would be very welcome, but… just do what makes you feel the most comfortable. It’s fine.”

“Did Jimin tell you to say that?”

His eyes widen at that, making you giggle.

“I knew it.”

“I practiced!” he squeaks out, looking completely stunned. “How could you tell?”

You smirk, silently thankful for the sudden banter. “Because you sound like him. So nice and selfless.”

“What does that mean?”

“Is it true, though?” you ask, licking your cracked lips. “I mean… I honestly don’t know how I’ll react— I’m not sure if I’ll need the night off. But it’s reassuring to know that I can be alone if I need to.”

Taehyung scratches the back of his neck, suddenly floundering. He doesn’t seem to know what to do with the information you just gave him, which came out sounding more personal than you intended, and you almost pity the way he seems to squirm on the spot.

“I mean— yeah. Of course. And… I’m sure it’ll be fine,” he finally smiles, in that natural way that makes him look more like himself. “It’s not like your family is cursed or something. Right?”

A forced laugh makes its way past your lips, raising the awkwardness to a painful level.

“Yeah.. that’s right. Thanks,” you clear your throat, trying to behave normally. How did you usually behave? It is strikingly hard to recall. “It’s just some rare chemical reaction, like you said. No big deal.”

Taehyung blinks at that, tilting his head. “Like I said?”

“You did— three years ago,” blushing hard, you laugh again, in that shrill, fabricated tone that expresses anything but joy. “I… I have a good memory.”

“You probably can’t even remember last week’s physics lesson.”

“The sun is starting to go down,” you mumble, ignoring his words as you give the curtains a brief glance. “I’m think I’m gonna go to my room now.”

“Sure. See you later,” you don’t miss the way Taehyung exhales deeply, as if relieved the conversation is finally over. He’s already turning your back to you, focusing his attention on the table while searching for a nonexistent object. It is both ridiculous and endearing, and you have to repress a chuckle as you get out of the room to walk downstairs.

You lock yourself in your room, too narrow but remarkably cozy, a comfortable space that always allows you to breathe a little easier whenever the days grow somewhat overwhelming. There’s a thin ledge under the only window of the room, wide enough for you to take a seat. It is the only room in the observatory where you’re free to keep your curtains completely open, and the walls and furniture are already sheathed in the vivid colors of the outside, tangerine tones trickling inside as the sun starts to go down.

For the briefest second, you wish you still were on the third floor. Taehyung would probably mind his own business on the other side of the room, protecting himself from the light as you observed through the window. He’d probably sense your nervousness, then — and instead of working silently he’d start talking loudly, muttering to himself loud enough to ease off the tension of the room. Taehyung loves to talk, even if it is only about work, and the fact that you’d gladly hear him banter about galactic tides and the effects of radiation pressure for more than two hours is probably worrying. In a way you’d rather not think about.

Sitting on the windowsill, you try not to bite your nails as you wait for the sky to start darkening. It feels absolutely bizarre to think that the moment is finally here, that you’re no more that sixteen year old who longed for the next five years to pass in the blink of an eye. And they did, in a sense. But a lot has changed, in ways you teen self would never have imagined, and the realization provokes a sudden pang of nostalgia within your chest.

You do not dare to think about Seokjin, knowing well enough that your current vulnerability wouldn’t handle it. Instead, you focus on the sky and its unsteady shades, hands clasped together on your lap as your heart picks up the pace. Starting to drown in your own reeling thoughts, you almost miss the orange dissipating as the night finally takes over, gracing the sky with a bright blue that slowly grows darker.

And just like that, the comet winks from above.

Your eyes struggle to trace its shape at first, head tilting as your body unconsciously leans forward. Your hands shake as you open the glass, and the usual vertigo that would make your legs tingle is completely gone as you incline your body towards the sky, precariously keeping your balance on the windowsill.

It is… obviously not what you expected, because your imagination could never conceive something like this. The first thought that comes to your head is I’m looking at a burning star, and you know Taehyung would faint if he ever heard you use that comparison, but it’s the most similar concept your brain can find. It is bright, so bright, glowing and pulsing as if it was alive, burning and stirring as it stills in the sky while barely moving in your eyes.

And the colors. You always found it strange how detailed and intricate other people’s descriptions were, but you get it now. The words are on your mind long before you start thinking about it, and it’s easy to interpret them as the shades of the galaxy, wide and powerful and glinting with speckled stars amongst a rich, deep blue. They are striking against the light blue of the young night, and it’s all your eyes can see and feel. You’re in love with the colors, even if you do not know who they belong to yet.

Except there’s a growing suspicion in your chest that keeps rising and rising, until it turns so loud you have to look away. Space. Dark blue. A vast starry night.

The view that welcomes you every single night at the dome.

“So… how did it go?”

Taehyung’s words are distant in your ears as you enter the dome, and you’re deeply thankful for the dim illumination — it is hopefully shadowing your stupefied expression, features frozen as you stop a few feet away from Taehyung’s table. Sitting on the desk with a recorder in hand, he probably just finished registering everything his eyes could catch while you were gone. There are some notes handwritten on paper, letters clumsy and clearly fast paced, which strikes a faint guilt through your hazy thoughts.

You lift your gaze to his face slowly, deliberately. He’s already staring at you when you reach his eyes, observing your stone cold face with intent. You have to hold back the urge to beg him to take off his glasses, desperate to look at his new eyes at a closer angle.

He doesn’t know it, but they’re completely different now. Still the same dark color, it is now tinged with a beautiful shade of navy blue, flecked with glinting stars. It is a different kind of universe, one contained inside the eyes of your soulmate.

You wince at your own thoughts, skin heating up. Taehyung chooses that moment to speak up, and you try hard to keep your focus on reality, struggling as your thoughts threaten to swallow you up.

“Are you okay? Do you want to throw up?”

“I’m fine,” you nod your head, mostly trying to convince yourself. Taehyung’s still giving you that scrutinizing look, one he reserves for complicated equations that keep his thoughts reeling. You have to look away, because his gaze feels a thousand times more intense now and you are not sure if you’ll ever be able to look at him straight in the eye again.

“Do you think you can work tonight?”

“Yes,” you don’t care how eager you sound — the need to distract yourself and let Taehyung guide your movements with his countless orders is so powerful you’re almost trembling, too overwhelmed by the emotions billowing across your body. He gives you another curious look before nodding, pointing to the telescope as tasks start spewing from his mouth.

You don’t look into his eyes again, and Taehyung has probably noticed — but he doesn’t say anything, and neither do you.

/

It only goes downhill from there.

Even if you never considered him a close friend, it has always been an easy, casual relationship, one between two people who happen to get along naturally within the workplace. After three years working with Taehyung your tasks became routine, one that is exciting instead of dull or tiring. And when the nights are long and heavy thoughts start to cram your mind, you even dare to confess that your desperation to find Seokjin has simmered down, making the guilt strike in the most unexpected moments.

The town turned into your place of comfort, one you can proudly call home, and your job with Taehyung became your source of happiness amidst the confusion and anger that brought your past.

In hindsight, you should have never called Taehyung a workaholic. Not when you’re probably even worse.

But now that comfort has found an inexplicable wall, so tall and tough it almost seems irrecoverable. The gentle smiles you share with Taehyung are now strained and painfully fabricated, and the involuntary cold shoulder you’ve been giving him has apparently spread to him — long gone are his long, one-sided chats that made you smile to yourself as you graded tests and looked over half finished homework. There are no more abrupt trips to the store because he forgot to get his favorite junk food, and the easy banter that always defined your relationship melted like ice under the sun. Even if it was only between coworkers, it was all you got from him.

And it is so, so painful.

Not knowing if it’s the (one-sided) soulmate bond that’s making you hurt or not makes it even more frustrating. There is, technically, no bond formed — but you thought there’d be some kind of shift after gazing at the colors, that maybe a new bundle of feelings would magically emerge from your chest and extend to your fingertips. You have heard all kinds of stories, of people falling in love instantly and others feeling a sense of rightness and slowly fell for their partners.

Somehow, Taehyung’s words start acquiring some logic. Maybe it is all in your minds — as humans who long for love and affection, the ones who believe in their soulmates the most probably delude themselves into this extraordinary romance, claiming an unyielding love that’s probably not even there. Maybe, there are others who felt hesitant about it at first, but seeing the colors made them believe how they’re probably meant to fall for that person in particular, so they just… do.

It would make sense, given your confusing, peculiar feelings for the man. Ones that are not particularly romantic — not yet, at least. Maybe it is no more than a rare reaction that humans cannot explain yet, and you’re just getting tricked into it.

Or maybe you’ve just been around Taehyung for way too long.

The strained atmosphere almost lasts two weeks, and it is actually Taehyung who breaks the ice. It is so unexpected you can’t help but break down, bottom lip trembling as you struggle not to cry.

“I’m so sorry— I’ve behaved like an idiot these days. I understand if you want to fire me,” you say in a shaky voice as you get up from your desk, starting to pace around the room as Taehyung sits quietly on the couch, recorder in hand and laptop precariously balanced on his legs. He’s still wearing his shades even though you both came back from school two hours ago, which makes you wonder if it’s his way of hiding his expression. “I… I can explain. I think. It’s weird, I’ve been feeling weird—”

“Leave that for dinner tonight,” Taehyung says, making you close your lips. The faintest smirk lifts his lips and your chest floods with relief — it’s been too long since you saw his face brightening up. “We can go to that seafood place near the coast and… talk. What do you think?”

The way he says talk does not sound entirely casual, as if there’s a hidden meaning behind it, one too big for such a short word. You still nod, though — quickly following it by a loud yes when you remember he’s not wearing his normal glasses.

“Now hush. I need to send an email to the Mauna Kea Observatory.”

“...Aren’t you the important boss.”

He snorts, hushing you again before starting to recite his email to the laptop. And even if the conversation ends there, you know things are definitely going to get easier, and a hint of normalcy is finally visible in the horizon.

The day passes evenly, and you both decide it’s time to go right after the sun drops. It is an unusual sight to see him get out of the house with his normal glasses — they do not help him see flawlessly after all, but they still allow him to watch his steps and to glance at your face with clear recognition in his eyes.

You reach the seafood place in no time, and you’re given a table placed against a secluded corner. The faint realization that they probably assumed you were a couple hits you as you both take a seat, which makes your cheeks flame embarrassingly fast.

It is impossible to concentrate on the menu in your hands. Your mind seems to be on overdrive tonight, and you can’t stop wondering if there’s someone around who can see the amazement that overcomes your features whenever you look into Taehyung’s eyes, still incredibly hypnotizing as they glint with burning stars. Someone can probably overhear the sweetened thoughts running through your head, which only makes your embarrassment grow and god, you should have asked him to wear his darker shades instead—

“Oh my god, stop thinking.”

His sudden words make you lift your eyes from the menu, which you haven’t read a word from. Taehyung’s giving you an amused stare, one eyebrow arched as you let out a strained laugh.

“That’s… a bit rich, coming from you.”

“I know, but you can get worse sometimes. You know that, right?”

You huff, no retort forming in your tongue. You might not be as smart as him, but you have to accept that his exhausting ways have adhered to your everyday life. The conversation does not delve any deeper from there, and you almost feel calm again as you both place your orders and start waiting for the food to arrive.

However, he’s quick to pick it back up. With his hands above the table and features softening, he looks straight into your eyes — something you have thoroughly avoided for days, because you still cannot get used to the swirling cosmos in them — and opens his mouth to speak.

“I understand if you want to leave.”

“What?” out of all the things you expected him to blurt out, that definitely was not on the list. “Leave? Why would I do that?”

He clears his throat, a distasteful grimace curving his lips. “The whole… comet thing. You’re clearly beyond uncomfortable with our current arrangement, so—”

“That’s not why I was—” you take a long, deep breath, forcing yourself to remember that blurting out the truth would not lead the conversation in a desirable direction. “I… I don’t care about the soulmate thing. I want to move on from it. So don’t worry— I’m going to stick around.”

You’re not entirely sure how much is a lie and how much is the truth. It is all jumbled together, coming out of your lips in unrestrained, confusing words. You can only feel confident about wanting to stay — that conviction has never dwindled in your mind, even if Taehyung being your soulmate has twisted things in ways you can’t quite understand yet.

He seems slightly startled by your words, eyes not quite focused as his expression freezes.

“Things are going back to normal, then?”

You nod, turning serious. “Is that okay with you?”

“Of course. Yeah. It’s great,” Taehyung nods, the faintest smile stretching his lips. His eyes are inscrutable as he looks down at the menu again, and he does not meet your gaze when he speaks again. “We’re sticking to our routine, then.”

His words spark a slow realization, one that grows alive and clear as your thoughts finally start rearranging, shaking off the confusion that has clouded your mind for the past few days. Hearing him say that is actually relieving, and you can now understand the countless, different journeys of soulmates, how some of them connect in a heartbeat and how others go through a slow burn, like the gentle glow of the lamps inside yours and Taehyung’s home.

Maybe you and Taehyung are not any of those things — and the thought of you being platonic soulmates does not sound all that wrong in your head. He can’t see your colors, after all, and you suppose it was meant to turn this way all along. And then Jimin’s words ring in your head like the twinkling sound of a morning clock, assuring you that it can’t hurt you to be friends.

Friends. Yeah, you think you can do that, even if his eyes still try to rob the air from your lungs whenever you’re not careful enough.

/

The switch is so abrupt, it almost feels like it was all a bizarre dream — the days of looming awkwardness and reluctant chatter never existed, dissolving into thin dust and completely invisible in your eyes. None of you voice it out loud, but it makes you wonder if it’s his way (and yours) of saying how much you missed working with each other.

The routine is remarkably comforting, fills you with warmth and easiness, but you have not forgotten about the promise you made to yourself during dinner three days ago. It makes your mood shift and triggers twisting nerves all over your body, which are particularly awake today — an opportunity has finally presented itself, and even if you wanted to ignore it, you’d berate yourself endlessly if you dared pass it up.

“Taehyung?” you call, lifting your gaze from your laptop as you squirm on the couch. He stops fiddling with one of the telescope’s lenses, looking in your direction with his usual casualness. You can only beg internally that he doesn’t notice the way you stiffen at the sight of his eyes through his thick rimmed glasses, too staggering even if they hold no more than faint interest.

“I’m not going to make you work tomorrow, if that’s what you’re going to ask,” he smirks, as if knowing your words before they’re out in the open. “Like I’ve told you countless times, Sundays are just for you. Try to enjoy them, will you?”

“That’s not— I was just—” you clear your throat, frustrated at the way your tongue suddenly ties itself. “The Yugen festival.”

“What?”

You sigh, holding back the urge to slap your burning cheeks. Okay. One more try. “Tomorrow’s the last day, isn’t it?”

Taehyung frowns, nodding. He doesn’t seem to understand yet and you’re already wishing you could backtrack, too mortified as you fail to form a coherent sentence in your chagrined mind. The way the colors in his eyes keep swirling doesn’t help, either.

“We should go tonight,” you finally spill, failing at making it sound nonchalant. It should not be a big deal — all kinds of people visit the Yugen festival, which takes place after the comet sweeps across the sky and lasts for about two weeks. It all revolves around the comet and the sungrazing lights, which, unexplainably, shine even brighter after the comet passes. Soulmates might be the main protagonists of the event, but families go, friends go, and it should not be too strange to invite Taehyung, a boss slash coworker with whom you’ve been coexisting for three years.

Voicing the offer out loud should not make you feel like bolting out of the room in less than a second.

“Oh,” he perks up at your words, eyes glinting, and for a second a swell of hope floods your chest. “Do you want to do research? That’s actually a really nice idea, we could get a new perspective from there. I can even take the smaller telescope I have around somewhere. I think it’s broken, though—”

A shaky laugh bubbles past your mouth, swell of hope rapidly shrinking. “Ah, no. I just thought it’d be fun. Not work related.”

“Oh,” he repeats, face turning blank. “Uh. Sure, I guess?”

“It’s fine if you don’t want to go—”

“I want to,” he says, words fast and clear. “I’m just not sure how I’ll do with all those lights. Festivals tend to be very… shiny.”

Your skin flushes even more at your following words. “We can avoid the crowded spots.”

And then he’s beaming, bright and radiant like you rarely see him, and your embarrassment finally feels somewhat justified.

“Sounds like a plan, then.”

You should know better than to imagine a plan going smoothly in your head. 

Only three more hours pass before the sunset starts drifting down, and the sky feels calm and unruffled when you finally get out of the observatory. Something you’ve come to love about this forfeit town is its fresh weather, which clings firmly to the ground no matter how many times the temperatures rise or drop. With July just starting, clothes are supposed to stick to your skin and the air is meant to hit you with rough heat, but it’s been three years since you felt that sense of suffocation crawling through your veins.

But then you reach the festival, sky rapidly darkening as trails of bright lanterns start to light up the path to the packed stands — and if you feel overwhelmed already, you cannot imagine how it must be for Taehyung, who brought in his dark shades just in case. He’s wearing them already, lips tightly closed as you guide him through the loud mob.

By the time you reach a somewhat secluded spot — right on the other side of the festival, where a foothill begins and leads to a scarcely dense forest — you’re already sweating from the heat of the crowd, cleaning your forehead as you sneak a glimpse towards a serious looking Taehyung.

“What’s with that face?” you ask with a laugh, trying your best to sound cheerful. You pat his shoulder before looking at the hill, undoubtedly less illuminated as the moon starts to rise between the trees. “We could hike the mountain. It doesn’t look that high.”

“You wanted to see the festival, though,” he mutters, disappointment oozing from his voice. You ignore the stir in your chest, smiling gently before shaking your head.

“It’s okay. Besides, I’m sure we can get a nice view of the sungrazing lights up there. What do you say?” you offer, already knowing he wouldn’t resist such a proposition. Taehyung explained, some time ago, that they’re not painfully bright for his eyes — it is mainly sunlight and artificial lighting what gives him pain, which you’ve unconsciously started to avoid as well.

It takes him a couple of seconds to finally smile, nodding eagerly.

“Well, look at you. You know me more than I thought.”

You can only laugh at that, a yelp flying past your mouth when he starts walking up the hill without notice. Just like always, he seems to know his way around, though the darkness makes him stumble once or twice and you have to start pointing out particularly sharp slides or obstacles in your path.

You have not overlooked how strangely quiet Taehyung is tonight, as if being outside and not focused on his work makes his usual fast pace slow down a little. He’s always buzzing with energy, words never stopping as he babbles on about new researches and discoveries, but tonight he reminds you of a zephyr, with his mellow steps and restful aura that allows him to glide up the hill as if he was walking on clouds.

You pick the spot for you two — right on top of the medium sized mountain and next to a particularly thick tree that stands out amongst the rest. You can see the lights of the festival from up there, which extends a few miles across town. Much farther away, if you squint enough, you can almost see the other hill, crowned with the observatory that you now call home.

The sight on the ground pales in comparison to the one on the sky, though. The sungrazing lights have always shined in the distance, its glow as soothing as the moon’s, but tonight they’re a little bit more defined and polished, stirring and pulsing just like the comet you saw two weeks ago. You can only compare the lights to the vivid stripe that separates land from sky after the sun goes down, weaving violets and blues and oranges like the wistful strokes of an artist.

These lights seem much more alive, though. They move and sway, forming an entrancing dance that is still too foreign for the human brain. You and Taehyung take a seat against the tree, and it’s with a muted smile that you watch him take off his glasses, leaving his eyes bare to the light show.

“Hey, stupid question,” you start, clearing your throat. “Why are they called sungrazing lights?”

Taehyung turns at that, eyes wide. “Are you serious?”

“Just tell me,” you huff, mildly mortified. “I kinda accepted it, never asked myself why they have that name.”

“Well, aren’t you a great scientist!” Taehyung laughs openly at his own joke, making your cheeks flare.

“Gosh, nevermind.”

“Wait, I’ll tell you,” he chuckles, laughs vanishing but allowing a faint smile to stay. “It’s part of how they were discovered, almost seventy years ago. It was actually this really skilled hiker who saw them for the first time— according to his story, he reached the top of a high mountain right as the sun was starting to rise. He said he could see the curvature of the earth from the top, which is actually a lie, of course,” he rolls his eyes, making you bite your lip as you restrain a laugh. “But what surprised him the most were these strange lights that seemed to surround the sun as it rose from the east. When he came back from the top, he just kept referring to them as the sungrazing lights, and the name stayed.”

“That’s… not what I expected.”

“I know, right?” he exclaims, voice rising as his eyes flicker with excitement. “When I heard the name when I was a kid, I thought it’d be related to the orbit of the comet—”

“You thought that as a kid?” you’re still restraining your chuckles, lips curved upwards as he gives you a somewhat embarrassed look. “Sorry. I keep forgetting you’re a genius.”

“Wow, thanks for forgetting.”

Laughs pour out this time. The minutes dash by like tickling seconds, conversation flowing effortlessly while the sky darkens. The lights start simmering with even more vigor, and with the fall of the night comes a new kind of feeling, one that’s more than silent awe and lightheartedness. Something slightly heavier, a sense of intimacy that lodges itself within your chest.

It is noticeable in the way your voices grow dimmer, as if to allow the lights to shine brighter. Taehyung’s shoulder keeps brushing yours and it’s hard to think of him as no more than a platonic soulmate, someone whose connection with you is not meant to overstep any boundaries. And right as the trivial conversation dies down, you know there’s a topic that needs to be touched, one you have to share if you want a new kind of friendship to start forming.

“Taehyung.”

“Hmm?” his eyes are hooded as he observes the light show, almost lethargic as he turns to you with a questioning gaze. His face is perfectly clear under the glow of the lights, and the sight mixed with the dark blue of his eyes makes you falter, words stumbling out of your mouth.

“There’s something I’ve been wanting to tell you for a long time,” you begin, clearing your throat. “Maybe you suspect already, though.”

“Is this about your secret research?”

You whip your head at that, eyes widening as you look into his own. He does not look the least resentful, a tiny smile tugging at his lips as he shrugs.

“I almost made Jimin spill once, but he’s too good at keeping secrets.”

You sigh, relieved at the light expression on his face. “Sorry. I just didn’t know how to talk about it.”

“Don’t worry, I understand. I mean— we talk about work from the moment we wake up ‘till midnight. It’s a little difficult to break through that.”

“Aren’t we right now, though?” you ask without meeting his eyes, voice involuntarily smaller. Your muscles tense up as you wait for him to answer, eyes sliding towards the sungrazing lights to distract yourself from your own nerves.

You almost jolt when you feel him ruffling your hair, a quick but fond gesture that leaves you stunned.

“Yeah,” he nods, beaming. “So… tell me about this super huge secret you’ve been keeping for three years.”

The glare you send him holds no hatred, too busy preparing the words scattered in your mind. “It’s… about my family, actually,” your voice cracks, and you clear your throat. “I have a brother that’s two years older than me. His name is Seokjin, and we got pretty close after— um, when my dad left. He got to see the lights right after his eighteenth birthday. I was sixteen so I couldn’t be there with him, but now I wish I was. By the next day he was gone, and we haven’t seen him ever since.”

Taehyung’s face has grown serious at your explanation, lips pursed as he plucks glass from the ground absentmindedly.

“You have no clue where he is, then?”

You shake your head, shaking off the sudden tightness in your chest. “He called my mom once, just to tell her that he was alive and well, but he never specified where he was. A part of me wants to believe that he just… wanted to vanish. And that’s— that’s his decision, even if if hurts me, but what if that’s not all that true? What if he needs help? That’s why I’ve been trying to get a clue of where he is. I’m the worst detective ever, though,” you laugh, a sound that holds more helplessness than mirth. “I am sure it is related to his soulmate. For some reason, it reminds me of my parents— they fell in love when they were very young and they couldn’t see the comet yet, so they vowed to stay together and never look at it. But ten years ago he just… broke that vow. He looked at it, found out his soulmate was someone else, and disappeared just as fast. The Yugen comet is always praised and worshipped, but in our case… it just seems like it only jinx us.”

You allow the silence to take over, then. Taehyung takes his time to mull over your words and you let him, silently unrestful over his thoughtful face. When he speaks again, his voice sounds somewhat closer, even if you’re still sitting in the same position — shoulder to shoulder, knee against knee and gazes leveled.

“I’m going to save you the ‘I could have helped you three years ago and we might have even found him by now’ lecture, and say instead that I’m willing to help you now,” he smiles, a subtle twitch of his lips that turns your breaths easier. “I have a question, though.”

“Ask away.”

“Did you get jinxed, too? On the night of the comet?”

“No,” the word escapes your mouth before you can even register his question. Though he seems unaware of being your own soulmate, the urge to clear it up is still strong in your veins. He may never know it’s him, given his inability to see the colors and his clear dislike of the concept — but he should at least know that you’ve come to terms with it, that your fate is definitely more comforting when compared to that of your mother’s, or Seokjin’s. “I’m okay with what I got.”

You truly are, especially with the easiness floating in the air and the reassuring darkness that engulfs you both, dotted with unusually bright lights in the sky. Taehyung’s closeness has never felt so relieving and freeing, warm and hushed by your side, making you realize that this other side of him — less frantic and more quiescent — is not so bad, either.

“Hmm. How cryptic,” he smiles in your direction, making you return the gesture. “Can I get a name, at least?”

“That’s super, super secret. And don’t try blackmailing Jimin, he doesn’t know, either.”

He drops his head back, looking at the sky and sighing. “Okay, then— enough soulmate talk. I also have something to say.”

Your heart skips a beat at that. “What is it?”

“I’m really, really starving right now, and I would love to get my hands on some food.”

You can only huff as he gets up from the ground, extending a hand in your direction to help you up. You take it and notice the everlasting smile enlivening his features, making you realize that this was undoubtedly better than any plan of your imagination.

Unable to restrain yourself, you smile back.

“Lead the way.”

/

You thought time passed in a blink during your usual routine with Taehyung, but it is nothing compared to the way the days fast-forward now that you’ve formed a solid friendship.

No break from work is left vacant now — and your days of locking yourself in your room just to nap or read a book whenever you could have now turned into random trips to the commercial main road, or walks along the shore or short visits to the forests that surround the mountains enclosing the town. One or two times you’ve even visited Yoongi and Hoseok — who received you both with flabbergasted stares — and if you’re feeling particularly giddy on a Friday night, Taehyung takes you to the bar where he got drunk for the first time (“I started fighting this guy who believed the Earth was flat. Don’t laugh, I got a black-eye!”). Some other times, you lead him back to the hill where you saw the sungrazing lights shining the brightest, a spot that has now become safe and comforting.

It’s as if you held yourselves back during three long years, adamant to make up for all the time you lost now that the wall has been shattered.

The days slip in a blur and soon enough twenty days have passed, and even if the lines between work and spare time have started to blur, Taehyung is back to his busy, restless self tonight — there’s been a particularly strong solar flare recently, which makes him ten times more eager to monitor the light show during the dark.

“If the theory I’ve been working on for the last five years is right, then the coronal mass ejections should make them disappear for a while, or at least dull out the colors. It should be happening tonight, which is why I need you even more focused this time, okay?”

“Yes, boss,” you quickly shut down your computer, getting up from the couch in less than a second. Going by the time on your wristwatch, nighttime will be here in a matter of minutes.

“You were surfing those random forums where frustrated teachers vent about their students, weren’t you?” he asks after surveying your nervous expression. He’s fiddling around the largest telescope of the dome, fixing lenses and checking everything is in order.

“I— I wasn’t!” it is obviously a lie, but Taehyung doesn’t prod. That only emphasizes on how concentrated he wants to be tonight, which in turn makes you grow serious as you start checking if everything is in place. You will probably start out noting down Taehyung’s fast observations, but there’s also a high chance you will be needed in the telescope, since the colors observed will play a huge part in Taehyung’s research.

“I’m nervous,” you finally say when everything’s ready. Instead of waiting by the telescope, Taehyung walks up to you and places his hands on your shoulders, making your body freeze as your eyes widen. He looks straight into your eyes, and his gaze seems to be scintillating behind his glasses.

“If we get this right, I could get my name out there. And I mean really out there,” he says in a soft tone, sending chills down your spine. “It could change things.”

Is he implying something? You can only give him a reassuring smile, lifting your hand to squeeze his wrist gently. “Whatever happens, it’ll be okay.”

He nods as he sighs dramatically. “What if I get too famous?”

You roll your eyes, making him chuckle. “Don’t flatter yourself. Let’s start, shall we?”

The night is, surprisingly, exceptionally quiet. Taehyung’s concentration seems to have reached new heights, and he glides across the room in silent steps as he checks the equipment over and over, which register numerous parameters you’re not too familiar with. You keep watch on the telescope as the hours drag down languidly, seconds painfully stagnant as they lengthen indefinitely.

It probably has to do with Taehyung’s quietness, so unnerving within the cramped walls of the dome, making you feel like you should break the silence, somehow — but you’re aware that he needs it right now, what with the looming knowledge that you might be about to discover something very, very big.

It happens at two in the morning. Taehyung sees a shift in the spectrometer he’s studying, which makes you turn to the telescope to gaze at the sky, already focused on the sungrazing lights. Except they’re barely there, and you can clearly see their colors dulling out, losing their sharpness as they grow paler and paler, turning so faint they’re no more than a speck in the sky. Within seconds the hazy remnants start to disappear, until the sky is dark and bare, no entrancing glow in sight.

“You were right,” you breathe, speechless as Taehyung takes over your place. “Taehyung, your theory was right. I mean, we still have to check if they come back in a few hours, but — that means… you just discovered where the lights come from.”

He observes through the telescope for a few seconds before stepping back. The look he gives you is of pure awe, and you can almost see burning stars within the universe in his stare.

“Oh—” he stammers, looking around in a frenzy. “Quick, quick, let’s write all of this down—”

The celebration can wait, you suppose. You stay up working until five in the morning, making sure the lights slowly come back to life while finishing up Taehyung’s latest investigation, which is about one hundred pages long. You have never typed so fast for so long and by the time you’re done your wrists ache and your sight hurts, but there’s a huge smile on your face as you save the document in a USB stick, getting up and turning to a disheveled — but still stunned — looking Taehyung. You hand it to him with a grin on your face, stretching your cheeks and making them hurt.

He grabs it and returns your smile, and something aches in your chest at the utter joy on his face.

“Eureka,” he whispers, before leaning forward to press a loud, big kiss on your mouth.

He runs out of the dome then, leaving you standing in the middle of the room as you try to make sense of what just happened. It was too swift for you to process, but the warmth of his lips on yours still lingers, making them tingle pleasantly. Your skin gradually flushes as the realization takes form in your mind, a squeak escaping your mouth as it finally hits you — we just found out the truth about the lights. Taehyung kissed me.

Your legs feel weak, but you still run out of the dome, walking down the stairs with shaky steps until you reach the first floor. Taehyung’s on the kitchen, for some reason — phone on his ear and words flowing clumsily as he explains what just happened to the person on the other side of the line.

“Yes, yes I can— thank you,” he exclaims, voice wobbly. He smiles again when he hangs up, grin widening when he notices your presence. “The city’s observatory — they want me to go there right away.”

“And we’re going,” you add, heart stuttering. Taehyung nods as he puts the phone back on his pocket, a long sigh slipping past his lips.

“We’re going. I mean— if you want to—”

“Yeah,” you nod, streams of adrenaline pulsing through your veins already. “Let’s do it.”

It takes you seconds to get out of the house, with bloodshot eyes and tousled hair and clear fatigue slouching your features. The recent events keep you both awake as you practically run towards the train station, blood still fizzling with burning exhilaration. Thoughts still on overdrive, you haven’t stopped to think about the kiss or what it truly entails — the only image you can focus on is Taehyung’s radiant face, a burning light that hasn’t abandoned him yet.

Ten minutes later you’re already buying the tickets while Taehyung checks the departures’ screen. No words are exchanged as you join each other again, walking side by side towards the correspondent platform. You feel like you can breathe again when you check the countdown and see there are only four minutes left, and your body almost melts onto the floor as the burning sensation brought by the thrill starts to dissipate.

“Well, at least we’re not late. We would have waited thirty minutes had we missed this one—” turning towards Taehyung makes your voice halt, body numbing as your eyes make sense of the sight in front of you.

He’s sitting on one of the benches, face pale and hands clutching his knees as if his life depended on it. The look on his face reflects utter horror and it makes a chill run down your spine, legs almost bucking as you approach him. You kneel down right in front of him, hands covering his as the fear starts to churn low on your stomach.

“Tae. Are you okay?” you know it is a ridiculous question to ask, of course he’s not okay — but you feel utterly helpless as he continues to breathe deeply, eyes slowly opening to look into yours.

“I’m sorry,” he croaks out, voice weak like you’ve never heard it before. “Can we go home?”

“Of course. Can you get up?”

He nods, taking a few seconds to breathe some more before moving. You hold each other’s hand as you go back, but none of you say anything — it feels right and natural to keep some sort of contact, keeping you and him firm on the ground as you allow the silence to spread. You decide to take a detour then, still holding his hand tight as you reach the darkened shoreline.

Summer nights in this town are probably your favorite — seized by the perfect balance between heat and cold, and never failing in helping you achieve a peaceful state of mind. You can only hope it’s the same for Taehyung, not daring to speak yet as the sounds of the faint waves crashing against the shore replace the stilled silence.

You turn around when you feel Taehyung’s hand slip away from your own. He has stopped walking, a long exhale leaving his mouth when his eyes meet yours under the glow of the moonlight.

“I’m sorry about that,” he scratches the back of his head, gaze lowering. “I thought I could…” his voice vanishes. He seems to be struggling for a few seconds, taking deep breaths before talking again. “I haven’t left this town in more than ten years. I got a bit… used to how comfortably I live here, how easily I can manage by myself even if it’s daylight— I know every step I need to take, I know all the roads and corners and houses, and going to a place where I can't do that, even during the night… is just— it’s terrifying.”

You nod as Taehyung’s words echo within the walls of your mind. Hearing such fragility in his voice is not something you’re used to — Taehyung has always been strong and determined in your mind, an unrelenting force that dashes across the universe like the Yugen comet. And he still is, but it is now that you realize how such an impression is far from being realistic. Taehyung is… just like you, and you can see it in worried eyes and the heavy bags under his eyes. Unbearably tough, but also hit with occasional bouts of unsteadiness.

“I was so ecstatic— I thought the adrenaline would help me get over it,” he explains, giving you an awkward smile. “I guess not.”

“It doesn’t need to be today, Taehyung. You’ll get through it, eventually.”

“I guess you’re right. But I thought today was it, you know,” he sighs, looking towards the sea. “Thanks for bringing me here, by the way.”

You glance at the reflection of the moon above the sparkling surface. It is soothing to the eye, and reminds you of the lethargy you’ve been holding off for hours now. Your eyes are starting to droop, and the blurry image of your bed flickers across your mind, already feeling warm and inviting.

You go back home, and not holding hands again makes your fingers itch. He doesn’t say another word, entering the house and walking up the stairs in complete silence, heavy and hushed under the stillness of an early morning. Your attention goes back to Taehyung when you reach the second floor — and the drowsy goodnight forming on your tongue never leaves your mouth, vanishing when he speaks up first.

“You don’t pity me, do you?”

He’s giving you a drooping smile, voice drained and sleepy. The way his eyes seem clearer eases off the clenching sensation in your chest, and it’s not that hard to smile back at him, gesture genuine.

“How could I pity the smartest man on Earth?”

“You forgot most handsome.”

You laugh, feeling deeply relieved. “Don’t push it. Congratulations, by the way.”

“Right back at you,” his smile grows a bit dimmer, intimate. Your heart speeds up in a matter of seconds, making you fidget as a flood of heat simmers under your skin. You bid each other goodnight then, and it feels strange to end the series of recent events on such a quiet, abrupt note — but the sleepiness is too heavy to ignore, and you’re barely able to change your clothes before crashing down on the bed.

Just like that, dreamland engulfs you, swallowing down the swirling thoughts that revolve around lights and comets and one particularly warm kiss.

/

Waking up with a clear head forces you to recognize two important things.

One, that Kim Taehyung’s name is probably going to spread across the world like wildfire.

And two, the kiss was most definitely a casualty, one that surged from the heat of the moment and nothing more.

None of you mention it after waking up, sun already high in the sky as it announces the arrival of midday. Taehyung spends the afternoon dealing with numerous phone calls, and you busy yourself with some unfinished work from school. There’s a strange hangover looming over your head, one brought up by the rampage of emotions you both went through last night — but instead of nagging headaches and fuzzy memories, there’s only a sense of clarity in your head and a lightness in your chest.

You feel like there are no more walls between you and Taehyung, and when he finally meets you at the dome right after sunset, the smiles you give each other are bright and transparent.

“Wanna go eat something outside?” he offers, dropping his phone on the table. “I’ll leave the phone here, I’m tired of scheduling Skype meetings.”

Your heart throbs at the sound of his voice, which doesn’t surprise you. You’ve probably been whipped for the boy for a long time, and it is almost ridiculous how something as simple as a random kiss unleashed what you just didn’t want to see. It became relatively easier as the friendship grew — the less you saw him as your nagging, chatty boss, the more comfortable it got to accept the feelings stirring in the background — which are ridiculously far from platonic. It ultimately exploded, which you should have expected a long time ago.

You accept Taehyung’s proposition — and instead of hitting the seafood place like you usually do, you decide to get street food near the coast instead, taking a seat a few feet away from the waves of the sea as you accommodate yourself on the sand. It feels painstakingly natural for him to sit right by your side, his knee brushing yours as you both fill your mouths with delicious, unhealthy food.

“I have something to tell you, by the way,” he begins after swallowing, glancing at you from the corner of your eye as the breeze caresses his fringe. “There’s another reason why I wanted to try leaving town.”

“Oh?” you take another bite, unable to control your hunger. “What is it?”

“Eat that first. What I’m about to say might make you choke.”

You swallow the food down, looking at him with more intent. His shoulders are hunched and he seems to be having trouble meeting your gaze, which you can only identify as guilt. You wait, trying to push down the nerves tickling your skin.

“I have an inkling of where Seokjin might be,” he says, almost making your heart stop. You’re already parting your lips to speak, but he continues, forcing you to gulp down your words. “I had this silly plan of going by myself and giving you a surprise, and for that I needed to learn how to leave. Besides, I’m not completely sure he’ll be there, so I just… wanted to spare you the disappointment if that wasn’t the case. But now I know how stupid that was— and I’m sorry for not telling you before.”

You take a deep breath, trying to control the shaking of your hands. “That’s okay, Taehyung. This is my issue to solve, and you shouldn’t go through all that trouble. This place you’re talking about… where is it?”

He looks immensely relieved now, smiling gently in your direction. “I’ll give you the details when we go back home. And, well— it doesn’t have to be your issue. After all, you’re more than an assistant, or a coworker—” your heart jumps at his words, making you fidget. “—You’re a friend. Friends do these kind of things for each other… or at least that’s what Jimin says.”

You laugh, feeling suddenly giddy and nervous and overwhelmed, all at the same time. A sudden realization strikes your mind, then — in the form of a grounded truth, one that says how you would have probably fallen for Taehyung one way or another, soulmate bond or not. You can feel that knowledge reinforcing your feelings, warming your insides while the freshness of the sky after sunset cools your heated skin.

Now you know that you need to say something.

But first, there is an entirely different matter you need to attend.

/

The direction Taehyung gives you is not something you would have imagined for your lost brother.

You lost count of the days and nights you spent wondering if he had a shelter to sleep under, if he was hungry or cold, if he was taking care of himself enough, if he was happy. Countless questions plagued your mind for months and years, which became a tortuous routine that sprang to the top of your mind at irregular times. With no firm lead to work on, you could only search with what little resources you had, aided by the limited help brought on by Jimin and your mother.

Had it not been for your work with Taehyung, the guilt and the feeling of inadequacy and helplessness would have swallowed you whole. Which is why too many years spent worried sick can only turn into faint confusion when you arrive at the magnanimous house located three hours away from town, lost in the countryside and surrounded by beautiful, carefully groomed green areas.

And that confusion slowly turns into blind, sizzling anger when you arrive at the door and ring the bell, only to be received by your own brother ten seconds later.

Your hands curl into fists by your sides as your mouth parts to say something, but your voice never comes out. Your throat makes a small, frustrated sound that never evolves into words, and your gaze starts turning blurry as Seokjin’s eyes widen. Seokjin, looking as healthy as ever, face a little bit more mature looking but still dotted by that pink hue that seemed permanent attached to his cheeks.

Seokjin, your own brother by blood — alive and well right in front of your eyes.

You push him hard, making him stagger back as you turn on your heels and stomp away from the place. Angry tears run down your face, stinging your cheeks as your throat tightens, and the hand that suddenly curls around your wrist and forces you to stop doesn’t surprise you. You pull away from his hold and look at him through your watery gaze, cleaning them angrily as he recovers his breath from running.

“Let me explain,” he finally says, voice as smooth as always. “Please. Let me talk first.”

“Yeah, whatever,” you sniff, trying to regain your composure. “But I’m not going inside that place,” you don’t know what it is, anyway — but you’re confident he’s not the only one living there. The place looks like it could shelter at least twenty people, if not more.

“You can’t, anyway. Come on, we need to find a secluded space,” Seokjin urges, still unusually serious. It doesn’t fit him, not after enduring his ridiculous jokes for more than ten years. He guides you around the house, and your steps falter when you get a glimpse of the gardens behind it, extending infinitely towards a thick forest a few miles away. You feel slightly intimidated under the distinct atmosphere, one that screams comfort and extravagance.

He guides you inside of them, taking a seat on a bench strategically placed between two large shrubs that hide you both from prying eyes, surrounded by thick trees that sway with the tender winds. The back of the house is practically hidden from your sight now. You still join him, looking at him straight in the eye as a frown forms between your brows.

“Tell me what’s going on.”

He sighs, long and loud, as if mentally preparing himself for his next words. You can’t help but imitate him, knowing that you probably need to prepare yourself, too.

“The day of the comet, I saw bright shades of purple,” he begins, eyes casted down. “And I immediately knew who it was. I don’t know if you remember— you were young, and I didn’t want to bother you with my love issues, but… you do know who Namjoon was, right?”

You nod, gulping. Though you only remember them as friends, you always had the hunch of something more going on. He breathes again before continuing, exhales shaky as they glide past his lips.

“Well, the moment I saw the purple, I knew it was him. And the thing is— we had a really bad history, Y/N. One I’m glad you didn’t get to see,” he licks his lips, looking down again. “To sum it up, we were together on and off, and so in love, but he wanted the world to know about us and I… I didn’t feel ready for that. Our different views in our relationship made us fight constantly— we basically drained each other, so we decided to end it, together. It was a mutual choice.”

He takes a few moments again, silence broken by the rustling of leaves.  

“Anyway… by the time I saw his colors in the comet, it’d been a year since I last saw him. And I felt such… desperation, this need to go where he was, to find him and tell him sorry for all the things I said—” he shakes his head, as if recalling the memories with pain. “That urge was one of a kind, Y/N. Maybe I was too young… maybe I should have waited another five years. But I didn’t, so I decided to leave the house and follow the instinct that was eating me inside. I found Namjoon, two hours away from home… and god, I hope you never experience the pain that comes from getting rejected by your own soulmate.”

The absolute torment in his voice takes your breath away. The anger you felt before has dimmed down dramatically, leaving a stirring sadness that latches around your neck, not as strong to block the air in your lungs, but still firm enough to feel a slight discomfort.

“He never wanted to see the comet because he had a feeling that it’d be me, and he was right. Hearing the words he said triggers this… feeling. I’m sorry, but I just don’t know how to explain it— not even after five years,” he gives you a stilted smile, one you return just as quietly. “I spent a few days in a daze, until I found this… nomad group who were just like me, and fed me will all kinds of bullshit about finding a cure for my pain— but I was desperate, so I joined them in this search of a cure that was never there. I worked for them and all the money I earned went to their so called research, but I escaped when I found out there wasn’t any— two years later.”

“Christ,” you breathe.

“Yeah,” he huffs, chuckling. “But then I found this place,” he gestures to the house, silent and gentle looking in the background, with its white walls that glow under the sunlight. “Who also help people like me. But it is mostly spiritual — they help you cleanse your soul with different practices, and you get to go to therapy and try all kinds of methods. I know, I know what you’re thinking— that this is probably bullshit, too. And it may be. There are some things I don’t agree with, but I like it here. The people are nice, and I’ve gotten better, even if it’s been a bit of a slow process. It’s quiet and refreshing and I have friends— and honestly, it is all I could ever ask for.”

“Seokjin,” you start, words strained as you allow them past your throat. “You could be dealing with the sketchiest cult of the country, you could have joined a dangerous gang, I don’t care. I just wanted to know you were well, I wanted to hear your voice.”

It’s been a while since you sounded like that — like the sixteen year old teen who felt comforted under her brother’s reassuring words and warm hugs. Small and weak, and so unaware of the world. Seokjin hugs you then, and you welcome his embrace like you would’ve had five years ago. Without any hesitance, giving him as much comfort as he’s currently giving you.

“I’m sorry, but I am not allowed to keep any contact with the past,” he finally explains, patting your back as he pulls away. “They have good intentions, I promise. It’s just that they believe a fast recovery comes from a total cleanse, and that includes pushing your previous life away, at least temporarily. I’m sure mom told you about the call I made— I managed to sneak one in, but I almost got caught and I can’t afford to get kicked out. I’m already being too reckless by talking to you here.”

“Then promise to recover fast,” you sniff, wiping away the lone tear that managed to escape. “Get better and find me and mom afterwards.”

Seokjin nods, smiling again. The gesture is real this time, making a spark of hope flare within your chest. You get up with urgency, feeling restless now that you know you shouldn’t be here, talking to him.

“If you really like this place, then I’m okay with you staying,” you declare, swallowing thickly.

“I really do.”

“Then I should get going,” you glance around, biting your lip. “I don’t want you to get caught.”

You give him another tight hug, clumsy and rushed.

“Get better,” you repeat, so softly, before turning around and walking away.

“Wait!” he calls, making you halt as you look behind. He’s still sitting on the bench, fingers digging onto his knees, and there’s a new kind of anxiousness brightening his eyes, as if scared of the next words he’s going to voice out loud. “Your soulmate. Have you met them?”

You nod, smiling widely. “I have.”

You don’t need to give him more explanations — he can probably tell already, just by the look on your face. His own features brighten, making your chest swell at the thought that maybe, just maybe, your own happiness could give him a slight push towards his recovery.

You do leave this time, steps a little bit more confident and heart beats picking up, face flushed and eyes glazed as a million thoughts race past your mind. You know it is time — the moment you go back, you’ll face Taehyung and tell him how you feel, how you’ve felt all these days and weeks. For Seokjin and your mother, who never got to find true happiness under the colors of the comet.

It is the least you can do, for them and for yourself.

/

“Y/N!”

“What are you doing here?”

Taehyung’s waiting outside of the train station, sitting on a bench and facing the empty parking lot. He’s wearing his dark shades, protecting his eyes from the vivid sunset that’s starting to melt the sky. He gets up when you voice the question, boxy smile stretching his lips as he approaches your voice in eager steps.

“Did you find him? How did it go? Tell me everything.”

“Well, aren’t you a busybody,” you chuckle. “Yeah, I found him. Come on, I’ll tell you on the way home.”

You allow the words to flow freely, not holding anything back as you walk side by side, crossing roads and passing the shoreline before reaching the familiar hill that leads up to the observatory. The sunset’s falling and the lights on the sky are not so bright anymore, and by the time you get t the familiar facade Taehyung is able to take off his glasses, stopping and narrowing his eyes at the poorly lit sky.

He looks at your face then, and closes his eyes. It is something he does sometimes — when the light is not quite dark enough, he tends to look at something for the briefest second before letting his eyelids drop, observing the image inside his mind at his own pace. The fact that he’s currently looking at your face, imprinted in his eyes, makes a deep blush crawl up your neck and cheeks.

“Hmm. You look so happy,” he opens his eyes again, deep blue flickering as he looks into yours. “I’m glad you got some closure with your brother.”

“Me too,” you swallow, squirming on the spot. “There is another closure I haven’t gotten, though.”

“Oh, no. You’re letting me talk this time,” he smiles, making your limbs freeze as your lungs constrict. “First off, I need to apologize for being a liar.”

“A— what?”

“A liar,” he repeats, clearing his throat and lowering his eyes, in that way of his that shows his own mortification. “I lied when I told you that I looked at the comet when I was thirteen.”

You blink, stunned. “Why would you lie about that?”

“Because I’ve always been too scared of the stupid comet,” he laughs, running a hand across his face. “Of what I’d see if I ever looked at it. I started telling that lie when I was fourteen, and it kinda stuck. I never got around to backtrack my words. Until now, that is.”

You swallow, nerves surging through your insides. You do not know where the conversation’s going, but there’s a flash of hope making your legs tremble.

“Why now?”

He meets your eyes again, clear and intense, just as bright as the day when Taehyung made his discovery. “Because I looked at it this year. The same night as you did.”

“Oh,” the air escapes your lungs, leaving no air in your body as you try to maintain your composure. “Oh. What did you see?”

Taehyung smiles, still speaking in that unnervingly slow pace that does not match his usual frenzied prattle. “I did not get cured magically, if that’s what you’re asking. I’m still the same old Taehyung, averse to sunlight like a damn vampire.”

You can’t even laugh at his joke, too distressed by what he might have seen that night. “But…?”

“But I did see something. And the thing is— I don’t know what color it is,” he sighs, gnawing on his bottom lip. “And I don’t think I’ll ever know. After all, how can I compare it? Everything else is just… dull. And there is this color, that I saw in the comet and that now I see every time I look at your face.”

“You— you never said anything—”

“Neither did you!” he huffs, cheeks burning. “You looked so ill after that, so I just figured you didn’t want to have to do anything with it. And you still believed the comet didn’t work for me, so it was easy to just— bury it down,” he winces, running a hand through his hair. “But then you seemed to get used to it, so I supposed you just wanted to be friends.”

“Those are too many assumptions, Taehyung. Hasn’t science taught you to trust facts over guesses?”

He smiles at that, biting his lip again. “I mean… I was always able to hold back my feelings, not to let them intervene with our work. But with us… being friends, and actually doing things— it got more than I could handle. I would have cursed my weak heart in the past, but now I know better than to let it consume me,” he continues, voice a bit livelier as he connects his gaze with yours. “So… yeah. I just wanted to put it out there. I’ve been in love with you for two years now—” he confesses, making your thump loud in your ears. “And honestly? the comet had nothing to do with it.”

“For having made one of the biggest discoveries of the decade,” you mutter, blinking away your tears. “We’re both dumb. So, so dumb.”

You kiss him, catching him off guard as he stumbles. It is almost too overwhelming, especially after your trip to Seokjin’s mysterious treatment center, but your body moves on its own as your arms circles Taehyung’s neck, pressing yourself flush against him as he starts gliding his lips gently, almost too focused as his hands caress your back.

“Let go,” you whisper against his lips, smiling at his reddening cheeks.

“Sorry, I’m still coming to terms with the fact that you actually feel the same—” you cut him off with your mouth, moving your lips against his as ripples of pleasure curse through your body up and down. It is too good, too ideal to be real — and your overworked mind almost convinces you that there’s probably a catch, a tiny detail you missed that will crumble everything down, reminding you that you’re not meant to find happiness like this—

But it’s easy to shut it all down as Taehyung breaks the kiss and grazes his lips against yours, smiling wide as he closes his eyes to see your face against the walls of his mind, mixed with the colors in your eyes that he can’t describe.

“I’ll find out what color it is,” he murmurs, eyes still closed as he presses another peck against your lips. “I promise I will.”

“Hmm. Good luck with that.”

“Is it the sea? It’s probably the colors of the shoreline,” he pulls away, and you have to restrain the whine bubbling up your throat. But his eyes are flashing with pure joy and the smile on his face never falters, turning into a mischievous smirk as he starts walking down the hill. “I bet I can race you there with my eyes closed, and still win.”

You laugh, and the bubbling sound gets lost into the darkening sky. It has acquired that hue of vivid blue that reminds you of a rising dawn, not quite dark but not quite pale either — and you’re already missing the way the comet glided past Earth, how Taehyung’s dark blue contrasted against the sky after sunset.

You can’t wait to see it again in five years — and the next five years after that.

“Come on. Are you chickening out?”

You snort, taking a deep breath as a fond smile breaks through. Oh, I hope he never changes.

“I never do. You’re on.”

#armiesnet #btssunshinenet #bangtan bookclub #kwritersnet #taehyung scenarios #taehyung fluff #bts fluff #bangtan fluff #I can't tag this as angst tbh it's too light haha #I hope you all enjoy!!! #writing