amadenchart:

Ghost Queen Amar

A gift from my dear friend @luci-draws turned into collab! I told her about all my shiny Pokémon on Legends Arceus and she felt inspired to draw myself as a Ghost trainer! An then of course I had to color it! Ghost-types have always been my favorite, with Gengar being my absolute favorite Pokémon and character design ever!

bokunoheroes-stories:

This writing piece is a collaboration with Spice @strawberryandspiceandchocolate. We had a lot of fun writing this together. We hope you guys enjoy it! 

Kirishima Eijirou X Reader 

This contains Angst and Fluff, along with a Timeskip. 

Word Count: 3,761

Keep reading

lenocturne:

margi-s:

She teased him to the edge …

“Do you deserve to come?” She whispers in his ear.

“Please no, not yet” he begs … “please, allow me to breathe your scent and grant the privilege to savour the energy of this moment”

“Oh, but you have been so good. And it has been weeks. Are you really sure?” she asked with the most innocent of looks and brightest smile.

If he didn’t know better, much better, and from aching experience, he wound have fallen for it and believed she was pushing him to cum.

But while he knew she genuinely felt for him, he also knew just how turnt on she was in this very moment. And how to make her desire him even more. So his answer couldn’t be anything but “Maybe I deserve to cum via proxy, Madame? Maybe I deserve to give you another one of our orgasms? Maybe you can feel it for both of us? And keep me a while longer? Please, Madame?”

↳seven tales, a collaboration 

min yoongi in ❝a melody of requiem ❞

summary: you are a novelist who has lost your inspiration. when you stay in the odd quaint town of swan hills you are mesmerized by the house on the hill and when you hear the rumors of the man who lives there you find yourself even more intrigued. the townspeople claim he’s a monster but when you find yourself meeting him you start to realize that things are not what they seem.
word count: 16k+
tags:yoongi x female reader, gothic!au, mystery, romance, fluff, angst, 
warnings:death mentions, abandonment issues, injury mention, violence, blood mentions, 
a/n:this has been so much fun to write and the fact that it’s a part of this collab makes it even better. thank you to @moon-write​ for all of her hard work in putting this together and the stunning banner. i was hoping to write more at the end but ran out of time. hopefully i can write an epilogue soon. i hope you enjoy!

make sure and check out the other stories in the collabfeaturing @moon-write,@btsrunmylife​, @delacyrose224,@alpacaparkaseok​, & @sor-vette​.

Swan Hills, a beacon of tranquility, it was said. When a rough case of writer’s block beset you your manager insisted you get a change of scenery. When he suggested that, you imagined a beachside cottage or perhaps a cabin in the woods. A small town nestled on the coast of a lake wasn’t exactly what you imagined but who were you to argue. At this rate, if you didn’t have a new novel by the end of the year you might become obsolete as a novelist. 

The rough road that nearly tore a wheel off of your carriage should have been your first red flag. The ride there was quite dreary but it wasn’t unusual for there to be some of that on the way to a beautiful place. Unfortunately, this was not the case here.

As the carriage approached the town the first thing of note was the wooden sign that looked like it had endured one too many storms. ‘Swan Hills’ it read alongside a carving of the bird itself; only the pure white you would expect from a swan was a charred black. 

When your manager had presented the town to you it had sounded too cute. How were you supposed to write a dark mystery novel in a cute lakeside town? The reality of the town seemed a lot gloomier.

The sky was gray and the breeze chilly as it passed through your carriage. As you rode into town the buildings you saw were all old and run down but the people moving about the town made it clear it wasn’t abandoned. 

It was interesting, it felt like you were stepping into a novel. It gave you hope that you would be able to reclaim your inspiration here. You had to.

Peering out the window you spotted a building at the top of a large hill overlooking the town. It was hard to make out the details of the house other than its large size. It was captivating, the cold gray sky behind it, the trees surrounding the outskirts of the area. You were mesmerized, had to know more about it.

The carriage pulled to a stop in front of the town hall. Your manager said that he would have the information on your accommodations in the town. At first, you thought it odd that a mayor would have the time to help with that but now that you had seen the small town first hand you weren’t shocked by it.

Stepping out you entered the building, it smelt of dust despite the inside being relatively well kept. An older woman sat at the desk, looking up at the sound of your entrance like you were the first person to step through the door in ages. Maybe you were.

“Good afternoon, it’s so good to see you. I hope that your trip treated you well. We’re so excited to have you here.” She said standing up. “The mayor is waiting for you, go ahead on in.” 

“Thank you very much.” You said with a polite bow before heading to the door she waved to. You noticed one of your more popular novels on her desk as you passed it.

Entering the office it was rather small for what you would expect of a mayoral office. The man who sat behind the desk was quick to flash a big smile. He wore a suit that to his credit was rather nice for the town he lived in. It made you wonder if he was from around here, certainly you couldn’t buy a suit like that in town. He was older, perhaps in his late fifties. A crop of black hair that was kept rather short and blue eyes that felt just a bit too intent for your liking.

“Ah, we’ve been waiting for you!” He said in a boisterous voice standing up from his chair. “It’s such an honor to have you here.”

“Thank you for having me.” You said. “It’ll be nice to be away from the city for a while.” There was something about this man that didn’t sit right with you but you couldn’t exactly place it. Maybe he took money under the table from the city. You couldn’t imagine the city had much money to take but you had a writer’s mind that always ran away from you.

“Forgive me if the town’s description was slightly embellished.” The man said with a smile that made you uncomfortable. Slimy mayor, that was an archetype to write down in your notebook.

“It’s okay, honestly when I was told this was supposed to be a romantic lake-side town I was quite hesitant. This though, spooky and dreary, this is perfect for what I need.” You didn’t miss the way his lip curled in annoyance for just a moment at your description of the town.

“Swan Hills is an up-and-coming town, and this time of year can be a bit gloomy but spring is always beautiful here.” He said, reclaiming his upbeat mood. It was the middle of summer, what normal place was this gloomy in summer? “By the time you’ve had a taste of all Swan Hills offers I’m sure you’ll be writing home about it.”

“Perhaps.” You said. You hardly thought Swan Hills would appeal to anyone you knew. Other than fellow mystery novelists, you weren’t going to give them any chance at inspiration from this odd town. 

“Please let me know if there’s anything I can do to make your stay more pleasant.” He said. “Or if you have any questions at all.”

“Ah, I do have one question.” You said remembering the captivating house you had seen perched on the hill before. “What’s the story with the house on the hill?” This time the mayor’s face didn’t hesitate to turn to disgust.

“It’s nothing of any interest, I can assure you that much.” He said curtly. That was surely a lie. Such a prominent house had to have someone of note in it. You had assumed it was his house and were hoping for a tour of it. What better inspiration than a large manor, a perfect setting for a mystery to unfold.

“Ahh, what a shame.” You said. 

“Anyways,” The man said, brushing off his attitude and falling back into his previous persona. “The lodgings we have prepared for you are ready for you. Ms. Kim can show you to it.” He gestured to the door. 

“Thank you for everything.” You said with another bow before leaving.

Ms. Kim, you now knew the woman’s name in the first room, was standing ready at the door with her coat on.

“C’mon dear, let me show you the way.” She said opening the door. Stepping outside she pointed to some of the shops nearby. “Food and anything else you can find here in town would be right around here.” 

“Good to know.” You said stepping into your carriage. You could hear Ms. Kim give your driver the directions. You couldn’t imagine it being very far. After a moment she stepped in.

“It’s hardly far we could have walked but then you wouldn’t have your stuff.” She said. “It’s just up the road at the foothill.”

“Is there anything fun to do, like tourist things?” You asked to make casual conversation. You didn’t think you would have much time to do anything recreational, you didn’t think there was anything to do if you were being honest.

“Ah, lots of people like to go out on the lake. It’s quite peaceful. We’re hoping to open a theater one day but there just aren’t enough people for one these days.” She said.

“Do you get a lot of people moving in?” You asked.

“Hardly,” She said with a sad look in her eyes. “We hope that we will have more people soon. It would be nice to have more life in the city.” She said.

The carriage came to a stop and the two of you got out. Before you sat a small cottage, it was as she said,  nestled at the foothill. The house you asked about earlier is even more clear from the spot here. From here you could make out more of the features of the house. The house also sat facing the lake.

“This is quite a lovely house but it’s been empty for quite some time.” She said using her key to open the door. “Don’t worry, we’ve cleaned it up for you. You’ll find plenty of firewood in here as well as outside. And lamps with oil too.” She said. 

It felt rude to think it but you were shocked at how nicely it was cleaned up on the inside. You had expected the worst but you had gotten quite a warm welcome here. It was quaint, a far cry from your city apartment uptown but it was endearing. 

“If you need anything just let us know, we’re in the office most of the day.” She said.

“Thank you very much.” You said with a warm smile. You appreciated the help from her. You walked with her back to the carriage. Your driver had unloaded your luggage from the cab and into the house. Your eye was caught again by the house and you wondered if you would get more information from Ms. Kim. “Before you go, do you know anything about that house?”

Ms. Kim’s face turned sour, a big difference from the warm smile before.

“Only that a wretched man lives there.” She nearly spits. “Stay as far away from that place as you can.”

“Wretched man?” You questioned, an eyebrow raised at the sweet woman’s sudden anger. The mayor had shown disdain but this was more interesting. Someone did live there, someone who seemed to have a bad reputation among at least two people. You loved a good mystery.

“I hate to even mention him.” She huffed. “That man, he’s done horrible things to this town. If you ask me he’s why we can’t keep anyone here. If they don’t leave because of the dark cloud that house casts on the town it’s because he’s done something to them.”

“Done something to them?” You questioned. You patted yourself on the back for asking her. This was good information. 

“I think he’s to blame for some of the missing people.” She said quietly, a frantic glance to the house looming above the both of you. “People don’t want to believe it though.”

“Forgive me for bringing it up.” You said waving your hand, you felt bad at the skittish reaction she was having. “Please, let my driver take you back to the town hall on his way out.” You offered.

“Oh, it’s okay.” She said. “It’s such a short walk.”

“I insist, as a small thank you for your help.” You said.

“You’re very sweet.” She said with a smile, her anger from earlier long gone. “Thank you, dear.”

Watching the carriage drive away it set upon you that you were stuck here until you could finish your novel. Not to mention whatever mystery there was with the manor on the hill. The thought of it got your heart pumping, you loved getting to the bottom of things. A mysterious man accused of heinous crimes? A town that pushed people out? 

Even with how painful your writer’s block had been you were optimistic this place would be quick to drive it away. 

Unpacking you set up your typewriter at the desk in the den along with the rest of your personal effects. You made sure to get a fire going and light the lamps as night descended on Swan Hills. 

Opening the front door of your cottage you sat on the porch drinking a warm cup of tea as your brain struggled to find the perfect plot for your next novel.

The sound of a piano caught your ear immediately in the empty night. The soft but slow melody was haunting, beautiful but it sent a chill down your spine. There was no question about it, the music came from the manor set above you.

Writing spooky and suspenseful novels was your profession, you didn’t scare easily. The rumors of the man in the house not far from you had been exciting, entertaining even not long ago. But as the melody floated down from the cold air above you there was a heavy feeling of fear resting in your chest.

Standing up you returned into the cottage, locking the door tightly behind you. Entering the bathroom you washed your face with some warm water hoping it would give you some comfort. 

Reasoning with yourself you knew that the reality was he was probably just some grumpy old man who scared people off. The town itself was enough to scare people away. If this man was really taking people or worse someone would have stopped him by now, right?

The next morning came without anything eventful happening. The air was cold and windy as you stepped out of the cottage you were staying in. For your first day, you wanted to walk around the area and hope that you would find some inspiration. That usually did the trick for you.

The lakeside was dreary and gray, a far cry from the sunny water’s edge that your manager described to you. Stray driftwood rested on the water’s edge against the dirt there. The waters were empty of any fowl that you would normally expect in a lake. There were no swans to be seen. Talk about false advertising.

As you took in the scenery you thought about what kind of novel you wanted to write. You had written many mysteries, some set in isolated cabins, busy towns, and perfect-looking countrysides. You wanted something different, something, unlike anything you had written before. You had often written the antagonists as scorned family members, bitter lovers, and vengeful colleagues. It was starting to feel like you had covered everything you could think of. 

As you returned to the cottage you looked up at the ominous house again. There was something about it that drew you to it. It inspired something in you, maybe just maybe it was what you needed to fuel your new story. 

What if you went and got a closer look? No doubt the stories were exaggerated; it was bound to happen in such a boring town.

Walking along you heard a voice speak from above you.

“You’re that writer, aren’t you?” The young girl said she was sitting in a small tree, you hadn’t even seen her in the first place. Looking at her you didn’t miss the book in her hand.

“I do write.” You said. “Not much these days it seems.” You laughed at your own joke. Your eyes caught the title of the book, it was one of your more obscure works. Something someone would only have if they followed your work closely. The air of indifference she put off made you smirk.

“What brings someone like you to this run-down town? Can’t imagine anyone coming here voluntarily.” She said.

“I’m hoping to work on a new book.” You said. “Not sure what the plot of it is yet.”

“Well if any town is the right setting for a creepy novel it’s this place.” She said.

“How long have you lived here?” You asked. Maybe you would get better information from a teenager, adults always had their own biases but younger people tended to have more direct views.

“Pretty much my whole life.” 

“What do you know about that house?” You asked, pointing to it.

“If you ask most of the adults they’ll tell you that the man that lives there is up to no good. That he’s the reason no one wants to live here, why business is driven away, why people go missing.” She said.

“What do you think?” 

“I think that I’ve never seen him leave the house. That from the property you would think that whoever lived there is long gone.” She said. “That’s a lot to blame on someone that you never see.”

“That’s a good point.” You said. “Who went missing?”

“Three girls, all of them in their early twenties.” She said. “The first four years ago, the next three, and the last girl two years.”

“That’s odd.” You said. “And no one ever found anything?”

“You’d have to ask the sheriff in town. He was supposed to investigate.” She explained. “People say their pets have gone missing too because of him. The shopkeeper in town is always complaining about her missing cat, she blames him. ‘Oh my poor Mr. Mittens, that evil man killed him.’ She’s always whining. Don’t bring it up, you’ll never hear the end of it.” 

“Thank you, I appreciate your information.” You said. Missing girls, missing cats, it seemed odd no one went up there to confront anything. “What’s your name?”

“Bella.” She said.

“Nice to meet you, do you want an autograph?” You asked.

“Uh, no.” She said suddenly flustered. “I haven’t even read this book.” She said quickly, putting it in the bag hanging from her shoulder.

“Ah, forgive me.” You said trying to hide the smile at her forced indifference. “Let me know what you think of it. I’ll see you around then.”

“Bye.” She said.

Mulling over the new information you walked into your cottage grabbing something to eat before making some coffee. Sitting down at your typewriter you tapped out some thoughts onto paper. The mystery of the house on the hill was pulling you in, what if you were to write about it? What if you searched for the answers to the real mystery yourself and wrote down an embellished version of it as you went. 

Once you ran the idea through your head you realized it was perfect. If something was pulling you in of course it would pull your readers in as well.

The sound of typing could be heard throughout the afternoon. 

By the time evening fell you were happy with the start you had to your new novel. You had no idea where things would go but that would make it even more interesting and if the truth was boring then you would simply make something up that would fit.

The urge to walk up to the house on the hill was overwhelming and no doubt it would provide you with some amount of interest to write about once you were home.

No risk, no reward you reasoned as you grabbed a coat and scarf. Despite it being summer it was oddly chilly at times. You chalked it up to the lake. You brought a small lantern with you but left it unlit until you needed it. The light of the full moon was enough to show you the way. The climb up the hill was steeper than it had looked initially. As you got closer you saw the tall brick walls that surrounded the property, overgrown ivy climbed the sides of it. A large iron gate stood at the front. 

You had hoped there wouldn’t be a gate so you could easily get a look but it seemed things wouldn’t be so easy. The gate looked like it hadn’t been opened in years. You followed the wall around the manor once you had gotten about halfway around you spotted a section of the wall that had tumbled down, bricks laying around an opening big enough to slip through.

Perhaps it was a bad idea but your curiosity was often too strong for your own good. Moving quietly you slipped through the opening. Looking around you saw what looked like it had been a previous garden. In contrast to the overgrown ivy on the brick, the plants here were long dead, dry branches sticking everywhere. 

Moving through the dead garden you saw a gazebo, the paint chipped away and the plants that no doubt had once been lush and green were crisp and dead. There were old stone statues throughout the yard. You imagined if they were accompanied by lively plants they would look beautiful but alongside the dead plants, they looked creepy. You couldn’t stop the shiver down your spine as you stared at the stained statue of an angel as a cold breeze moved by.

As you got closer to the manor. The shingles on the house in some places were falling off. The dark paint faded. It was dark inside, no sign of anyone living there. A part of you wondered if maybe no one was living in the house anymore and it was merely an empty building they could use as a scapegoat for the town’s issues.

Looking back to the garden you noticed something odd, near the house there was a stone path that led to an area with a circle. Around the stone circle, there were three rose bushes that were alive, not just alive but beautiful. The one in the middle was a stunning red, the one on the left a sleek black, and the one on the right a pure white. 

Roses were not plants that were known to thrive on their own, even when they were taken care of they could be hard to keep alive. If there was no one taking care of them they would no doubt be as dead as the rest of the garden. 

Reaching out you took a petal in your hand feeling the soft texture against your skin. 

A chill ran down your spine and you looked up to the large window only to see a figure standing there with a candle in hand. Even from far away, you could make out a younger-looking man with nearly white hair that stood staring down at you.

You held back a scream of fear as you dropped your unlit lantern and took off running to the opening you had squeezed in through. You didn’t stop running until you got back to your cottage. Chest heaving you laid down on the couch trying to process what had happened.

After taking a warm shower and changing into bedclothes you had enough time to reason with yourself. He was just standing there, it was just a man standing there no matter how ghostly he had seemed. You were the one trespassing on his property.

Despite your logical reasoning you still found yourself unable to find any sleep. Instead, you used the dark hours of the night to write more about what had just happened. The least you could do was use your eventful night for inspiration. 

The next morning you woke up after falling asleep for a few hours at your desk. In the light of day, the memory of last night felt unreal. A part of you wondered if it had just been a dream but the lack of lantern in your house reminded you that it had happened.

It was easier in the morning light to believe that it had just been an annoyed homeowner looking down at you from his house but the thought of the girls who went missing crept up in your mind. Had they too been too curious? Was that the last thing they had seen?

No, you were being ridiculous. 

You remembered the young girl mentioning the sheriff was supposed to investigate the missing girls. Maybe he had more information, maybe he did investigate them and nothing turned up. 

After eating breakfast and changing you walked into town, it wasn’t hard to spot the sheriff’s station out of the handful of buildings there. 

Walking in you were shocked at the size of the building. It was smaller than the shoe box apartments in the city. There was one desk and a cell attached to the open area. Behind the desk was a man with his feet kicked up on the table and a book resting on his face, not that it did anything to mask his loud snoring.

“Ahem.” You coughed loudly but the man remained asleep. You rolled your eyes looking at the door. Opening it again you slammed it shut loudly this time the noise startled the man out of his sleep as he nearly fell out of his chair. “Ahh sorry, the wind caught the door.” You apologized with your best effort to look sorry.

“Sorry,” He said, sitting up in his chair. “Just resting my eyes for a moment.”

“Of course.” You said.

“You’re the VIP in town,” He said, realizing who you were. You were sure they didn’t get very many visitors here. “I’ve made sure to have my best officer patrolling constantly while you are here just in case you get any unruly fans.”

“Very thoughtful of you.” You said. “I can see how hard at work you’ve been.” You couldn’t help making the comment but it seemed to go over his head.

“Of course, I take the safety of this town very seriously.” He said with a nod.

“I wasn’t here about myself though, I was interested in something I heard around town. They say that there’s been some missing girls in the past couple of years.” The man looked hesitant. You were sure that he was going to withhold information if you didn’t ask this right. “It’s just in my new story I have the same thing going on, I was hoping for some realism in the story and I hoped that a real-life sheriff like you could tell me how  the process of an investigation goes.”

The man’s face turned from cautious to interested.

“Of course I’d be happy to offer my experience.” He said sitting up straight. “I’ve been the sheriff of this town for nearly fifteen years now. I’ve never seen anything like it, it’s always been peaceful and quiet but four years ago one of the young women in the town went missing. Delany Rose, ah her parents are still so broken up about it. She was beautiful, always won the beauty pageant in town.”

You wondered how much competition there was for a beauty pageant in such a small town. 

“Her father owns the general store here, her mother well she’s quite the gossip in town but don’t tell her I said that. Delany was always a smart girl, quite the star, always seemed too big for this city. One night she was gone, the last person to see her was old Miss Kim. She saw her by the road that leads up to the manor on the hill.”

“Did you talk to the man who lives in the house?” You wondered.

“Ah well I spoke to a man there but he said he hadn’t seen her.”

“What about nearby towns? Did you ever see if she was there?” You asked.

“Ah well, the closest town is a bit of a ride so I never got around to it.” He said sheepishly.

“So the most you did was talk to people in town then?” 

“Well, yeah.” He said.

Maybe you should have expected a small town wouldn’t have a sheriff that was ambitious enough to solve the case of a missing girl but you had thought since there were so few people that they would care enough about each other to get to the bottom of things and find out what happened to one of their own. 

“So I presume that’s all you did for the others too?” You questioned.

“Yes.” He said. 

“Well thank you for your time.” You said with a sigh before leaving. Despite the only evidence being the missing girl being seen near the road that leads to the house on the hill that was all, they needed to accuse the man living there of kidnapping or killing young women.

It was shocking that they wouldn’t put more effort into people disappearing. So much for small towns caring.

As you walked back to the cottage you remembered him mentioning a woman that had seen the girl before she disappeared. You bookmarked her name in your head, maybe you could talk to her to get more information eventually. 

You spent the day editing what you had written so far but you couldn’t help the thought of the missing girls. Was he to blame? There wasn’t enough evidence to support it but at the same time, there was hardly enough investigation. Asking a man one question was hardly going to pull an answer from him. They should have at least searched the house. And he didn’t even check nearby towns, what if she had just moved without telling anyone?

The rest of the night was spent making dinner before curling up next to the fireplace with a book you had been meaning to read for a long time. 

No matter how much you pushed it off you couldn’t get rid of the thought of going back to the house. You did need to get your lantern back, granted you could easily buy a new one but you liked having an excuse to go back.

Maybe you were like Icarus, flying too close to the sun waiting for something horrible to happen before you stopped. They said curiosity killed the cat but people often forget that satisfaction brought it back.

In the least, if you died trying to solve a mystery and write a novel at least someone else could write a cool story about you. You made a mental note to write down everything in case you did die.

The next day came and you mentally prepared yourself to return to the manor. You considered doing it in the middle of the day, maybe it would seem less scary but you also thought it might be easier to spot you. Sneaking in and out in the dead of night sounded like a better plan. You weren’t exactly sure what you would find there but you hoped for the best.

After spending your day editing you waited for nightfall before heading out. The walk felt shorter the second time around, your steps less unsure. This time there was nearly no light, you hadn’t realized the cloud cover that was blowing in until the harsh wind reached you. The wind pushed your thin coat back along with your hair. You wished that you had brought a better coat with you but it was summer, you didn’t even think you’d need one at all.

Once you reached the same place you squeezed in through, you took a look around before entering the garden again. It looked the same for the most part, although it was harder to see. You found yourself tripping over stray pieces of stone that laid on the ground. 

After some searching you found the rose bushes where you had dropped your lantern the night before. That’s when the sky lit up with blinding light. Thunder roared as rain suddenly poured down. You had never seen a storm start so quickly in your life. It was no quaint storm either, just after one bolt struck another one did not far from the garden. 

Clutching your lantern you panicked, before you could move towards the exit a bolt struck the ground where you would have walked to leave.

There was only one option, to go inside the house. At this point nothing inside the house could be more terrifying than being struck by lightning. You told yourself that life was not like your stories, that the man living in this house was most likely just that, a man. 

As you ran to the door you hoped that proved true. Banging on the door in a panic you hoped someone would answer or else you would kick the door down yourself.

After what felt like an hour but was in reality only a few minutes, the door opened to reveal an older man in a suit. Not the white haired man you had spotted in the window the night before.

He looked bewildered, shocked even. 

“I’m so sorry, I got caught in the storm.” You quickly said. “I nearly got struck by lighting-”

“Come in,” He said, waving his hand. It seemed he was over his confusion at having a visitor and had become worried for you.

The house is something out of one of your novels. It’s elegant but looks forgotten to time. Despite it being clean and well kept, much unlike the outside, there’s something about it that feels empty. Maybe it’s the silence, a large house like this would only make sense if you had a family living here along with staff to care for everything. 

He ushers you from the entryway into a sitting room.

“Please sit,” You hesitate, you’re soaked to the bone from the onslaught of rain, you don’t want to ruin the furniture. “It’s okay,” He reassures.

Not wanting to be rude, you sit, thankful that things are going well so far. No murderous man living here, that you’ve encountered so far. 

The man looks at you for a moment unsure. “Let me speak to the lord of the house and I will return.” He said, before you could even ask a question he disappeared behind a door.

It’s odd sitting there freezing. All you had intended on doing was getting your lantern back and sneaking a few peaks at the manor but here you sat inside it. So far it was hardly the horror house that the town had made it out to be. 

A part of you is disappointed, you had hoped for a good mystery to inspire your next novel. It seemed you would have to take the bones of reality and embellish till you had something readable.

It’s not long before he returns, when he does he is carrying a few things. The most obvious is the tray of tea but it takes you a moment to notice the neatly folded clothes that he has. 

“The lord of the house requested I bring you some dry clothes and warm tea.” He said as he placed the tray on the table. “There’s a guest bath behind that door,” He gestures to one of the doors lining the room. “You are welcome to stay for the night, it seems the storm will continue for quite a while and it would be dangerous to travel home.”

“I can’t thank you enough,” The dry clothes that he hands you are a dream. Anything would be better than the freezing clothes you’re wearing now. You excuse yourself to change into the dry clothes. He was also kind enough to provide you a towel to dry yourself off with. By the time you return to the living room you feel like a new person. Sitting down you take a sip of the tea he’s made. It’s the perfect temperature after the time that’s passed.

“You’re new here,” He said, taking a seat across from you. You assume they don’t get visitors if his reaction to you at the door is any clue. He seems eager to chat despite you being a complete stranger who was trespassing. 

“I’m visiting,” You explain. “I write books for a living, I came here to write my next novel.”

“Oh, you write?” He asks. “I’ve read quite a few books, it’s really all there is to do in my spare time. What’s your name?” You tell him and see his eyes light up. “Oh! I love your novels so much, I’m quite the fan.”

It’s endearing, the way he rattles on about your plots and the guesses he had for the culprit in your books. It makes you happy to see someone give your work such thought. At the end of the day what gives you a living is the purchase but what keeps you motivated to write is how much people love what you write.

“If I’m being honest the reason I was up here was because this house is so mesmerizing,” You explain. “I’m trying to figure out the plot for my next book and this house keeps drawing me to it. I was hoping it would spark something for me.” You tell him. You watch as his eyes light up.

“Well, I can ask the lord of the house but if you want to see anything I could show you.” He says, almost as giddy as a child. “I would love to help if the lord doesn’t mind.”

“That would be quite the help.” You tell him. In reality,  the man who you saw in the window is what is drawing you here more than anything but at the same time you are amazed by the house. You had only seen a fraction but you would love a tour if it was offered. It would be the perfect setting for a novel and seeing it first hand would help leagues in describing it.

“The lord of the house-” You question. “What kind of man is he?”

“Ah, I shouldn’t say much. He’s a very private man.” He said, his demeanor shifting from excited to guarded in a moment’s time. “He’s a good man and that’s all I’ll say.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t mean to intrude. I’ve already done enough.” You said.

“I can take you to a guest room for the night-” He says.

“The couch is fine, I hate to bother you any more.” You explain.

“It’s okay-”

“The couch is fine.” You insist.

“Let me grab you some bedding then.” He said, not wanting to push it. 

He returned moments later with a pillow and blankets in arm. 

“If there’s anything else you need, please just give a shout and I’ll help you.” He said.

After he leaves it feels odd being in a stranger’s house alone. Especially such a grand one at that. It wasn’t as if you hadn’t been to nice homes in your life, rich people were always throwing house parties and inviting you as some token guest. But this manor was different from the usual city mansion. It was far bigger than the ones in the city and the ornate decoration was unique.

You fixed the pillows and blankets onto the couch, gazing at the burning hearth for a moment. The candles that had been burning for light that hung from the wall suddenly went out and you felt yourself tensing in fear. Glancing at them you could see that the reason was that they had burnt to the bottom of their wick but it didn’t take away how ominous it had felt. 

The low light of the hearth was all that was left. You supposed it was good that it was darker so you could fall asleep. That’s what you told yourself as you laid down on the couch, getting comfortable.

Surprisingly you fell asleep quite fast. It seemed the night’s events had exhausted you enough. 

A creak in the floor boards wakes you from your sleep. The room is dark now, the embers in the fireplace barely glowing enough to illuminate the exposed brick surrounding it. Opening your eyes slowly you glance around the room without moving. 

There’s a shadow in the room with you, perhaps ten feet away from you and it’s taller than the small man who was the butler of the house. Your breath leaves your body as you paralyze in fear. Before fight or flight can kick in, the shadow leaves the room, creaking footsteps with it.

Finally you take the breath you had been holding and try to calm yourself. Was that the lord of the house? As the butler had referred to him. Was he going to do something to you? The thought of the missing girls comes to mind and you wonder just how stupid you are to have come here by yourself. Even if you did get out safe and the man was harmless you could have ended up in a really bad situation. 

Even more exhausted you fall asleep thinking of ways you could incorporate your eventful night into your novel. 

When you woke again the sun was streaming in through the window that wasn’t far from the couch you had slept on. The events of the previous night came to mind but in the light of day they felt less daunting. Had you just dreamed it? It wouldn’t be unheard of. You weren’t a stranger to odd dreams.

“Ah, good morning.” The butler said as he entered the room. “Did you sleep well?”

“I did, thank you again.” You said.

“Would you like some tea or coffee? Anything for breakfast?” He asked.

“Oh no, that would be too much. I’ve already intruded enough.” You said, waving your hands.

“It would be no problem.” He said.

“It’s okay,” You said. “I should get home so I can get some work done.”

“Whatever works best for you, miss.” He said.

“Thank you, once again, for everything.” You said as you gathered yourself. “And give my regards to the lord of the house as well.”

“Of course.” He said.

After bidding a goodbye, you left, trekking down the hill. Not missing out on getting a look at the garden in daylight as you passed by.

It felt like a fever dream more than anything else, everything that had happened. You weren’t exactly sure what to think of it all. The only person you had met in the house was more than kind. No hint of anything suspicious or disturbing. But you wondered, had you really seen a shadowy figure in the night? Were there more mysteries to find in the manor?

There was that curiosity in you that was impossible to sate. A part of you that wanted any excuse to return and uncover more information. That’s when it hit you, what if you brought a gift to show your thanks? You were in fact very thankful, you didn’t know what would have happened if their doors hadn’t been opened to you and the butler had shown nothing but kindness. The least you could do was get a gift for him. If you happened to see anything else or find something out that would only be a bonus. 

You resolve to find a nice gift basket, although you remember you are in a small town that has next to nothing. You decided to go to the general store in town.

As you approach the store front you don’t miss the bulletin in front with papers that say ‘Missing Cat’ along with a very in depth description of a cat. All black except for a bit of white at the tails end along with the odd trait of an extra claw on his front paws. “Mr. Mittens.” You read to yourself. You recall someone mentioning the storekeeper was obsessed with their missing cat.

The encounter with the storekeeper is pretty much what you expected after interacting with some of the town’s character. She doesn’t miss a chance to mention her missing cat, asking you to keep an eye out. You hold your tongue at mentioning the cat’s been gone for months, did she really think she’d find it.

The store’s inventory is about what you’d expect but you manage to find enough decent things to make a gift basket that’s general enough to suit anyone’s likes. Taking the basket home you wonder if returning tomorrow is too soon. 

When you get home you don’t waste time in getting your desk setup to write. You feel inspired for the first time in a while and you know not to let that get away from you. Using your previous night as a template you write out some dramatic scenes making sure to embellish them as much as you can.

Using the day you manage to get a lot of work done. By the time it’s dinner you pack up your writing stuff and start making some food. You keep a window open at the cabin, hoping to hear a hint of the melancholy music you had heard before but it’s quiet for the night.

The next day you find yourself wondering when is an appropriate time to drop by. You don’t want to go too early but you also don’t want to make the walk up there in the dark again. After eating lunch you decide now is as good a time as any. 

Yesterday you had taken the time to put the gift basket together, it wasn’t anything impressive. Especially compared to what you would normally get as a gift in the city.  You hoped the assorted snacks would be enough of a thank you. 

When you knock on the door of the manor it opens with a loud creak. You glance around looking for any sign of the butler but he’s nowhere to be found. You step inside wondering if you should just leave it on the table in the entryway but you hear a gentle melody coming from further inside the house. 

You know you should leave, it’s the safe thing to do and the polite thing but you can’t stop your curiosity. It’ll be the death of you one day, you know it. 

As you walk into the living room you had slept in the other night you hear the music coming from upstairs, thankfully the staircase is easy to find. You walk with soft steps, hoping to avoid making too much noise. When you reach the second floor you can see a large black grand piano sitting at a large window that faces the garden.

On the bench you see a man with blond hair so light it almost looks white. In the sunlight you can see more of a yellow tone. You realize that this is most likely the man you had seen in the window. You get a bit closer before stopping where you are listening to the music he’s playing. It’s beautiful and sad at the same time. You had heard many musicians, on street corners, on big stages, but none had ever played you something that made you feel this way.

You move to take another step closer but you step on a squeaky floor board. The music comes to a stop with a clashing of notes. His head snaps to where you are, eyes wide in shock.

“I’m sorry,” You are quick to apologize. “The door was open, I came with a gift as a thank you for your hospitality the other night. I presume you’re the lord of the house?”

The gift basket is heavy in your arms. He stands stepping closer to you without a word. He examines the gift basket for a moment before taking it from your hands.

“I’m sorry for intruding, I really hate to bother you.” You said, it was hard not to ramble nervously in the awkward silence.

“Thank you,” He said, his voice soft. It would have been easy not to hear him.

This is probably the best chance you have to ask him about everything in the town, the rumors. There isn’t exactly an easy way to ask about missing girls when he’s the one people seem to blame. You wanted answers but you weren’t going to be rude to someone who had been kind enough to let you in on a stormy night.

“I’m new to town, I’m an author.” You explained, unsure of what else to say. “I’m trying to work on a new novel so I got away from the city to try and help for some inspiration.”

“What’s your name?” He asked. You tell him and he gives a thoughtful look. “I’ve never read any of your books but I haven’t seen a new book in a long time.” He explained.

“Ah well I’ve only been publishing books for about six years.” You explain. “I’ve been writing since I was a child though.”

He nods but doesn’t say anything but he does seem interested, to your surprise.

“Your butler, he’s a good man, very kind.” You said. “I know I already said it but I appreciate the hospitality. That was a nasty storm, do you get many here?”

“At times. The lake is large enough that it makes the storms worse.” He said.

“Speaking of your butler? Is he okay? I didn’t see him.” You asked.

“He just went into town, not this one, the bigger one nearby, for supplies.” He said.

“Ah, yes. The store here doesn’t have much.” You said. “And what it does have is rather marked up in price.”

There was a pause for a moment.

“I’m sorry, I’ll get going. I know you weren’t expecting anyone.” You said. “Thank you, again.”

He simply nodded.

“Good day.” You said as you retreated down the stairs.

“Good day.” His voice was quiet still as he said his good bye.

As you walked down the hill, wind gently ruffling your hair, you thought about the man you had spoken too. He was quiet but from what you could sense he was soft in demeanor, different but nothing about him seemed sinister as the town had depicted him as. You couldn’t get his gentle brown eyes that had hesitantly met yours out of your head.

Days passed and you worked more on your novel, in between you took walks on the lakeside and spoke to different townspeople. The census you got from everyone seemed to be the same. The only person who’s opinion seemed to differ was the teenager you had spoken to. It wasn’t uncommon for you to bump into them. You would ask some questions, they would answer candidly despite their indifferent demeanor and you would be on your way.

It was one day when you ran into them that they gave you a good lead on information. 

“If you want information, the person who’s seen the most here is old lady Mai. She’s lived here longer than anyone else. She knows more about anything than anyone else.” She said, “She’s out of town but it’s probably worth a trip to you.”

With that you didn’t hesitate to follow her directions. Maybe it was a bit of a stretch to follow a teenager’s directions to the outskirts of town but you wouldn’t say no to a lead even if it came up empty.

The house was old, that much was evident. But it wasn’t exactly run down, it looked like someone took care of the house. It was nestled far back in a forest outside of downtown about an hour’s walk away. 

Approaching the door, you knocked confidently. After a few moments you heard shuffling before the door opened. 

“Hello?” An older woman answered the door. She looked curious, no doubt unfamiliar with people knocking at her door.

“Hello, I’m sorry to bother you but I was hoping to talk to you if you had some time.” You said. “I’m an author doing research for a new book and I had some questions about this town. I was told you’ve lived here longer than anyone else.”

“I have, I know far more than most in this town.” She said, “Come in, ask your questions.” She said turning around with a wave of her hand inviting you in.

Without a question you followed her into the kitchen in her house, she gestured to a chair and you sat down. She grabbed a kettle from the stove, pouring two mugs on the table. She slid one over to you, keeping the other one. 

“What do you want to know?” She asked as she sat down. It seemed she was a straight-to-the-point kind of woman.

“Why does the town fear the man who lives in that manor so much?”

“It’s in the mayor’s best interest.” She says cryptically. You want to complain that she doesn’t answer directly but you appreciate the anticipation.

“Why would he care?” You ask.

“It goes back almost thirty years ago.” She explains. “Once upon a time the Min family was the heart of this town. Back then there were far more people living here too. He ran a business, a good one, out of Swan Hills. It made the town thrive. He took good care of the people who worked for him. The mayor used to work with him, he was an important man in the company but he was greedy. He wanted to take over after him but then he had a son and the mayor knew one day that the company would go to his son before it ever went to him.”

“And the Min family lived in the manor?” You ask but she is indifferent to your questions. 

“The mayor split off and made his own company but he was not a good business man on his own, he was too quick to cut corners and disloyal to the people that worked for him.” She explained. “Years later the Min family died in a boat accident, all except their son. He was too young at the time so the company went to his father’s trusted business partner but he moved the company into the city. After that most people left with no livelihood to be had here anymore. The city became desolate except for a small amount that stayed.”

“Did the mayor stay?” You asked. It seems this time she entertains your question.

“He left for the city with most. There he was able to get his business off the ground, much easier to scam people in a city with hundreds of thousands of people. Once he did well for himself he returned and became mayor after hours had passed. It seems he has some obsession with this town.” She said.

“It’s that easy to become mayor here?” You questioned.

“In such a small town a man with a lot of money has a lot of pull.” She said. “He invested in the area hoping to make it a landmark vacation spot, hoping people would buy the property he bought for far more than he got it for. The problem is most people who visit find the town run down and creepy, a big part due to the manor overlooking the town. The rumors the locals started about missing girls and dead animals drove everyone away. No one wants to visit much less buy anything to return to. He’s tried a lot but nothing works.”

“He’s a fool for trying to sell this place like some beach side spot.” You said.

“That’s why he invited you here no doubt, he probably hopes you’ll buy a home here so he can tell everyone a big author has a vacation home here. He’s desperate, he knows nothing will work for him.”

“So the man in the house, he’s the son of the man who died?” You asked.

“He is.” She answered. Your heart sank thinking back to him, thinking back to the sad music he plays. How long had he lived there with no one other than the butler with him?

“Thank you,” You said. “I truly appreciate your time. If you ever need anything, I’ll be in town for a while if you ever need anything. I’m in a cottage near the lakeside.”

“Thank you, it’s not often people find themselves out here. It’s nice to have some company.” She said.

After your goodbyes you returned to town thinking about everything you learned. It only seemed there was more to this mystery. The man that lived in the manor was evidently a lonely orphan who had been isolated from the world. That plus the time you had spent around him had made you even more endeared towards him. You found yourself wanting to clear his name of the awful rumors that had been spread about him but you didn’t think it was your place.

That didn’t mean you didn’t want to know more about him. That’s when you came up with the idea to bring him your books. You had brought with you a few extra copies of the novels you had written just in case you met anyone who might want to read them. You gathered that he might be a reader and if he hadn’t seen a new book in so long it might be something he would enjoy.

You gather the courage to visit again. With a small chest carrying all your books you make the trek up the hill to the manor in the afternoon. Knocking on the door, the butler answered after a moment. He looked surprised by your appearance. 

“Oh, miss. Good to see you again.” He said. “Can I help you?”

“I just wanted to stop by to drop this off for-” You realized that you still hadn’t learned the man’s name. “-for the lord of the house.”

“Ah yes, Mr. Min.” He said. “Come in, let me notify him.”

Standing in the entry way you waited for the man to return. What surprised you was instead of the butler returning, the man with blond hair returned. He looked cautious but you figured if he came out to see you rather than having his butler talk to you it meant something.

“Hey, I’m sorry to bother you again.” You said, setting the chest on the table there. “I brought you some of my novels, if you were interested.”

He looked at you for a moment before looking at the chest. He unhooked the latch, opening it taking in the books there.

“You can read them in any order, they are stand-alones.” You explained. Just as you moved to gesture at one of the books you were startled by a cat jumping onto the table. 

“Sorry,” He said.

The cat let out a small meow looking to you for attention. It was black with white at the tip of it’s tail but what caught your attention was the paws, it had an extra claw. That’s when it clicked, this was the cat the lady at the general store claimed was missing. It seemed it was here all along.

“Is this your cat?” You asked curious if it was the same cat, it would be odd if it wasn’t.

“He showed up one day in the garden.” He said. “I pet him for a while but when I went inside he meowed at the door non-stop. Ever since then he has moved in.”

“The woman in town claims this cat is missing, blames you for killing it.” You said, feeling out if he had heard all the claims the town has made. The look on his face is blank, he doesn’t seem shocked.

“A lot of people claim a lot of things.” He said, his gaze on the cat as he ran his fingers along it’s pelt.

“It seems that way.” You said. “If you read the books, I’d love to hear what you think about them.”

“Thank you.” He said. 

“Before I go, I realize I never got your name.” You said remembering before you left without it again.

“Yoongi.” He said. “Min Yoongi.”

When you receive a letter a few days later you’re surprised. The only person who has this address is your manager and it’s not from him. The letter is sealed with an ornate wax seal. Opening it you realize it’s from Yoongi. It’s an invitation for dinner. It was the last thing you expected but it had you excited. What had started off as interest for inspiration was quickly turning into personal interest and you found yourself thinking of any excuse to go back to that manor to see him.

You find yourself at the door to the manor yet again. You hadn’t brought any outfits that would suit a nice dinner you were used to in the city but you assume that this wouldn’t be as formal. You hope at least.

“Good to see you again,” The butler answers the door with a smile. You wonder if you’re the first guest since the Min family passed. You wonder if they ever saw anyone other than each other.

“Thank you for having me.” You said.

“The lord of the house insisted.” He said. “It’s nice to host someone for a meal, it’s been ages.”

The butler leads you into the dining room, pulling a seat out for you. You thank him as you sit down.

“He’ll be here in a moment, let me get the appetizer.” He said before leaving out of a door that was opposite of the way you came in. 

It was uncomfortably silent as you waited but after a few moments the door opened, a different one than the butler had used. In walked Yoongi, he was dressed far nicer than you, in a sleek black blazer and a white shirt under. 

“I’m glad you could come.” He said with a small bow before sitting down. 

“Thank you for inviting me.” You replied.

Just then the butler returned with the appetizer, setting it down on the table.

“That smells amazing.” You said. “Thank you.”

The two of you started eating, you were thinking about what to say but before you could Yoongi spoke, surprising you.

“I read your books.” He said. “I enjoyed them.”

“Oh, which ones?” You asked. 

“All of them.” He said plainly. It had only been a few days since you had given him the books. 

“Really?” You said surprised.

“I haven’t read a new book in forever, I was a bit excited.” He said, sounding almost boylike. You let out a small laugh.

“Well I hope they were good compared to the classics. I know modern literature can be lacking in comparison at times.”

“I found it refreshing. I couldn’t put them down.” He said.

He explained his opinion of each book at your request. He explained the characters that he liked and the twists that shocked him. He was honest about certain points in the book but overall was very impressed with them. You loved anytime you could talk to someone about your books.

“What is the novel you’re working on now about?” He asked.

“Well, actually I was struggling for a long time on what to write but when I heard the rumors in the town about your manor and well, about you I thought it was a good idea for a story. Granted, I’m exaggerating a lot for the book.” You explained. You were hesitant, you hoped he wasn’t offended by what you were writing about. 

What you didn’t expect was for him to burst out laughing. It’s a few moments before he stops laughing.

“Sorry, I just- That’s the last thing I would have expected.” He said, still a bit breathless from his laughter. He’s cute when he laughs, you think to yourself. He’s cute when he’s all mysterious but you ignore that thought.

“I’m sorry, I hope it doesn’t offend you. If it bothers you I can change the plot-”

“No, no.” He assures you. “It’s just you’ll find that the reality is quite boring in comparison to what the town talks about.”

“And what is the reality?” You question. You didn’t think it would be so easy to get to the bottom of it all. 

“The animals they claim I’ve killed are just animals that grew tired of their owners and made their way up here.” He explained. “I’ve fed them and they’ve chosen to stay here.”

“I can see that from Mr. Mittens.” You mention the cat you saw here the other day.

“And the girls that have gone missing aren’t dead or trapped in my basement, they were just people who hated small towns and wanted bigger things in life.” He explained.

“That is true.” The butler said as he stepped in with two plates of food. “I’ve run into them in the bigger towns around here on my supply runs. They’re doing quite well for themselves.”

“I figured as much, I spoke to the sheriff about it and he said he hadn’t searched any further than the town.” You said. “I’m not surprised, reality rarely is as dramatic as novels. Which is for the better more often than not.”

The dinner goes well, Yoongi is more talkative once you get him going. He feels more open, you wonder if him reading your work is what spurred this on. Although your novels might seem far away from your personality they are a unique insight into how your brain works. Perhaps knowing more about you through your books puts him at ease. 

You insist that the butler eats with you but he insists he had already eaten before preparing the meal for you. 

After sitting and talking for quite a while following dinner, Yoongi offers to move into the sitting room. On a couch in front of the hearth you talk for hours more. It’s only when you both grow tired that you think about going home.

As he walks you to the door he asks if you feel comfortable walking home in the dark. A kindness considering he knows of your late night adventures through his back yard. You can tell a part of him wants to offer to walk you home as he walks you to the gate but you can see the discomfort creep onto his face as he nears the edge of his property. Had he left the brick walls that surrounded the house since his parents had died?

“If you even want to, you could write here.” He offered as you get ready to part ways. “It might help, with inspiration.” He says.

“Thank you, that’s a kind offer.” You say. You wonder if it’s just an excuse to see you again. You hope. “I would like to take you up on that.”

“Anytime you want, morning, afternoon, evening.” He said.

“Thank you,” You tell yourself that it would no doubt help to write here but you know you would take any excuse to see him again. For a moment you wonder how he’s managed to capture your attention so quickly outside of the interest you held for your novel.

You don’t hesitate to return. You come with a typewriter and notebooks in tow. Yoongi offers a few different places for you to set up but you choose the spot in the room with his piano. 

At first he gives you distance, quiet to write, which you appreciate but you enjoy it even more when he comes in with a tray of tea. You don’t miss that it seems something the butler would do instead. He sits with you and asks about your writing but the conversation moves quickly to other things. 

You return the next day, and the next. Yoongi gives you less space but you li

deusa-h:

Match made in Heaven

@deusa-h/@nicogrey

The Year There Was A Cece Claus (And Maddie)

The Year There Was A Cece Claus (And Maddie)

“Why are we here, cow?” Maddie shivered, leaning against the North Pole. “And why am I an elf?”

The goddess grunted as she struggled to squeeze herself into her borrowed outfit. “Santa drank some Ranch milk with her cookies, and now she’s too busy getting pumped to do her Santa duties. And I owed her a few favors after last year.” Cece winked, adjusting the hat between her horns.

“Still doesn’t…

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Fujita Maiko ft Hirarin!!!!! The music video is finally out! I love the dynamic of their voices together ❤

reynaruina:

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reynaruina:

Zim found a thing. He doesn’t usually wear nastu human clothes, but this one…this one gets a pass.

Dib has no idea who are all these other Dibs, but for now his attention is… focused elsewhere.

Dibs by @risitka,@its-elsy,@izzydrawsforfunand@tardimaid. Feel free to add your own!

It appears a lot more people wanted to jump on this!!! Here is an updated version of the dibpile, with additions from @bananazim ,k1dsmeals (instagram), @treel,@lp-parker,@aperfecttimeforscreaming,@mybrainisbigpoop,@pichichu-studio,@tr333333,@faithfulwhispers-art,@roztheirken and @lozislaw !! (close ups under the read more :D)

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Team #6: Once Upon a Dream Master Post

Writer:glimmerglangerl@glimmerglanger

Artists:mockspeed|@mock-arts,Kess,punkascas|@punkascas

Rating:Mature

Word Count: 31,360

Pairing(s):CC-2224 | Cody/Obi-Wan Kenobi, Background Siri-Tachi/Original Clone Character

Major Warnings & Tags: Graphic Depictions of Violence, Suicidal Ideation, Suicide Attempt

Summary:

The man was still warm; not warm enough but he obviously hadn’t been dead long. Cody thinned his mouth, looking at the man. He had a fall of copper hair and a beard, scars here and there on his body. He looked like he’d been a fighter, all muscle, trim and–

“Sith’s spit,” he added, cutting over the chatter in his bucket, as his assessment reached the man’s hand, curled, even in death, around a familiar metallic cylinder. “General Tachi, I think he was a Jedi.”

OR, the one where Marshal Commander Cody finds a mystery figure three years into the Clone Wars, and it changes the course of history.

Read the ficonAo3

View collaborative promo art onAo3orTumblr

View mockspeed’s artonAo3orTumblr

Listen to Kess’s podficonAo3

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Thank you @codywanbigbang