#CAN SURGE JUST BE LEFT TO BE ANGRY AND INSANE AND KILLING

[gourde]

Surge (The Tenrec) is like my favourite character ever and each time I go to check out the Surge the Tenrec tag it's all "But what if she was 'soft' and kissy kissy with Amy" OH MY GOD I WANT TO SEE HER KILL THINGS CAN WE COOL IT ON THE SHIPPING FOR ONE SECOND ESPECIALLY WITH A CHARACTER LIKE SURGE she is used and broken and literally 14. And so so angry.

[k1nky-r0b0t-g1rl-wr1t1ng]

Badly Damaged

Wrote a lil short story based on a post i made the other day, enjoy.

CAS3 slowly trudges towards the dimly lit warehouse, her limp becoming ever more obvious the closer she gets. Her servos and joints whining loudly as her damaged body barely manages to keep itself upright. She approaches the dark alleyway, her shattered leg scraping along the hard concrete, her visor solely focused on the sparsely lit doorway inching closer. It can feel its systems slowly shutting down, one by one losing power, her core must’ve been ruptured, she’s lucky she made it this far. More systems go offline, she's cascading now, not long left. She wonders if this’ll be it, if no one’s inside, it almost certainly will be, a cold smile crosses her face. Maybe this time.

“Sam!”

Its voice escapes her throat, distorted and mangled, not surprising considering her current state.

“Vic!” 

Another distorted name slips by her lips, unsure if it even wants a reply. Her vision starts to shut down, the sensors behind its visor losing power, its one good leg drops out from under it, her sundered body slams against the cold floor in the doorway, the last thing she sees is the bright interior lights of the workshop as her damaged core finally gives out.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Initialising emergency boot protocol 

Booting safe mode

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The cold spark of life burns through CAS3’s body, sparking and surging through what remains of her systems and subsystems. The coarse energy of life pushes into every corner of her being, forcing its processors to engage, the bitter taste of consciousness forming in her artificial mouth. 

Her visor flickers on, CAS3 sullenly scans its surroundings unable to move its limbs, the consequences of being booted in safe mode. Laid out on a workbench, she is able to see the extent of the damage to her chassis for the first time. Her right foot completely shorn off, the connected metal ground down from dragging it so far. Her left arm missing from the elbow down, only a mass of wires and gnarled metal remains. Its entire body covered in slashed open jagged wounds, its metal twisted and malformed. A large hole sits covering most of her left breast plate, distorting metal through her entire chassis, probably what caused her core to rupture.

“WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU.” 

The noise startles her back to reality, her vision darts over towards a small desk, a small monitor flashing with bright lines of code but her eyes are drawn to the short human standing beside it. Arms crossed, a zipped down jumpsuit tied around their waist, a greasy white tank top sitting on their torso, but what she notices most of all is the furious expression plastered across their face.

“ARE YOU FUCKING INSANE!?” they continue to yell 

“DO YOU EVER FUCKING THINK FOR ONE FUCKING SECOND!? YOU ARE SO FUCKING LUCKY I WAS WORKING LATE TONIGHT.” 

CAS3 looks forward, still only able to move her head, a sigh escapes her still damaged throat.

“Just unlock me, I'll find somewhere else,” a hint of shame still obvious in the broken voice.

The human takes a few angry steps forward, coming back into view of CAS3’s visor.

“I’m sorry let me get this straight, you go and almost get yourself killed….AGAIN, leaving me to find your fucking corpse on my doorstep, in the middle of the fucking night. I only just manage to repair that stupid fucking core of yours before you ran out of time. And now you want me to just let you go, back out into the world looking like this…is that right?” The humans anger still dripping with every word.

“Sam please…i don't need this,” CAS3 manages to croak out, still avoiding Sam’s gaze.

“Oh you don't need this?” Sam chuckles “you wanna know what i dont fucking need? I dont need your stupid fucking body on my repair table every week. Why do you keep doing this? What's the point?” 

“BECAUSE THERE IS NO FUCKING POINT,” CAS3 finally snaps back.

Sam steps back, shocked by the sudden explosion from the damaged bot below her.

“They built me for one fucking job and guess what, the war ended! it fucking ended. Wanna know what they gave me for my years of service? Fuck all, those cunts just tossed me into the world, Would have been decommissioned if they werent so fucking scared of me. I was built to fight and fight and fight and now what? Huh? I have nothing so why does it fucking matter. Who cares if this kills me, I'm barely alive anyway…” it trails off, finally looking towards the short human in front of her. 

“Cass I…I’m sorry, I didn't know” Sam gently speaks.

“Yeah well you humans rarely do,” the machine says bitterly, “you're all born into this world and told you can do anything, you can be whatever you want, follow your dreams, follow your heart. I was born into war, I was built to fight and win and fight more, my entire purpose was forced into me the second I was created, and now that's over, my life was war and now it's gone, so where does that leave me? How can you follow your dreams if you were never built to have them?”

Sam shifts uncomfortably, reaching into their pocket before pressing a small remote. CAS3 feels her motors release, the tension in her system relaxes, it can move its body again.

“I’ll have your chassis fixed up by tonight, just…don’t leave…please,” they speak gently, walking over to their tool rack. 

CAS3 sits up on the work table, stretching out what remains of her body, visor fixed on the same point, deep in thought. It's never told anyone that before, never allowed itself to be so open and raw with how it felt, especially not with a human. She's knocked out of her thoughts by the rustling of Sam beside her, calibrating their tools and preparing to fix her broken body.

“Why do you even care?” the distorted voice cuts through the silence.

Sam chuckles to themselves, “you really are an idiot you know.” 

Before the robot can respond Sam’s lips meet hers, their firm hands grasp her cold metal face. Her processors kick into overdrive, its body built to feel in order to be a more efficient killing machine now feeling something entirely new, something warm, something sparking inside her. She can't think, she’s lost in something she's never felt before, everything melts away as the warmth on her lips slows down before pulling away.

“W-what are you doing?” the machine stutters.

“Showing you that you don't have to be what you were built for,” Sam quickly pushes their body onto the workbench, mounting the mangled warbot, connecting their lips once more, and sparks fly through CAS3’s system. Sam pushes their tongue into the cold metal mouth of the short circuiting bot, determined to show them the world can be gentle. The bot grabs the back of their head, its other damaged arm trying to grip onto the bench. CAS3 feels something growing inside her, an energy its never felt before, firm hands move all across her body, touching every joint and piece of plating. The vulnerability of being so exposed, her chassis torn asunder, access to her core just a small hand movement away. Sam begins reaching inside the gaping hole in her chest, she tenses as they get dangerously close to her centre.

“Relax bot, I'm not gonna touch that,” Sam purrs. 

CAS3 releases the tension in its joints, trusting the mechanic once more. A jolt surges from her chest across her entire body, intense pleasure rushes to her receptors as she lets out a desperate robotic moan.

“Oh does someone like me playing with its wires?” Sam teases.

They keep playing with the exposed wires deep in the bots chest, forcing more distorted, mangled sounds out of her mouth. Her system is in overload, she cant think, she cant stop whatever is building deep in her system. It loses control of its body as something in her trips, her synthetic mind goes dark as her entire system explodes in pleasure before forcing itself to restart.

CAS3 shudders awake, jolting up on the workbench, unaware of how much time has passed, she frantically looks around before focusing again on the mechanic still sitting, legs either side of its hips, staring down at her, a warm smile greeting the bot.

“You were out for about sixty seconds there bot, how wa-mmghm,” They’re cut off.

CAS3 lurches forward, pushing the small human onto their back, her visor inches away from the mechanic's flushed face, lingering there for moments before darting down to their waist, pulling down the orange jumpsuit as best it can with only one hand.

Looking up with a smirk she whispers, “your turn.” 

Returning to the now naked human form below her, she places gentle metal kisses along their thighs, working closer and closer towards her goal. Each kiss elicits a small sound and it only encourages her as she reaches her robotic fingers towards their opening. A loud gasp escapes Sam’s mouth, the cold metal fingers sending a shock through them. A moment passes, the warbot, the cold machine built to kill without feeling, built to win a war without question, built to end lives without hesitation

A moment passes, the warbot, sending pleasure all through the mechanics body, using her cold body to bring warmth, feeling alive for the first time. 

If you wanna support me - Ko-fi

[bill-y]

𝐈𝐍𝐔𝐑𝐄

Peeta Mellark x male reader

[ We all know who Katniss Everdeen is, but what if Primrose hadn’t been chosen but another boy from another unfortunate family? YOUR family. ]

Info: This is basically a reader insert and I’ve changed a few rules, not ground breaking though. The reader is a bit bland for now but I plan for his actions to be different. Because he has different moral grounds from Katniss and such. Would appreciate feedback! FEEL FREE TO POINT OUT TYPOS. GRAMMARLY SOMETIMES DOESN’T DO MY DYSLEXIC ASS JUSTICE

Part three: Click this, Rumtumtugger.

Part four: you're here, jennyanydots

Part five: Clicky dicky here, buddy

Wattpad account: L0calxDumbass

Those words left my mouth without much thought. I wasn't thinking of the damned consequences at the moment.

Behind me was Kunal, an iron grip on my leg, bawling his eyes out. "Y/N! NO! NO! YOU CAN'T GO!" he pleaded, his cries getting louder by the second. 

My hand ruffled his strawberry blonde hair, messing it up. "Let go, Nal," I said in the calmest tone I could muster. He shook his head, tears running down his cheeks, I cleared my dry throat, gulping down nothing. My mouth was dry as if I just ate a handful of salt, which was honestly a luxury.

My face remained stoic, the moment I show a sign of distress I know the people in the Capitol would eat it up like good bread. It entertains them, our suffering entertains them. 

His hands slipped from my leg, gripping on my pants before he was finally taken away from me. "Up you go, Owl eyes," said Gale, his voice trying hard to remain steady. Beside him was Katniss, who was holding Kunal by the shoulders. She nodded, "Good luck, Y/n,"

I nodded, before looking back at the temporary stage. "Oh well, Bravo!" Effie exclaimed. "That's the spirit of the games!"

She was thrilled, finally seeing some action from this district. It made a pit in my stomach, I clenched my jaw. If only the roles were reversed, Capitol people fighting for their lives instead of us.

Oh, how funny that would be.

I strode to the stage, trying my best to look collected. The foreboding feeling in my stomach only grew with each step I took, my hands sweating as if they've just been dipped into water once I finally took my place.

"Do tell us your name," Effie said, her grin widening as she nodded, encouraging me to talk. It took all the will power I had to not strangle her.

"Y/n Greyback," I replied dryly, hoping it would set her off.

“I bet my buttons that was your brother. Don’t want him to steal all the glory, do we? Come on, everybody! Let’s give a big round of applause to our newest tribute!” she trilled, making me clench my fists.

Her words were met with silence. No one clapped, not a noise can be heard. Even the ones who would usually bet on who would wound up as a tribute didn't do anything.

I held back a smile, a surge of hope flowing through me. This was the most rebellious thing they could do without getting punishment of any sort. Silence.

Silence doesn't mean fear or that we're cowards. It meant that we do not accept this, we do not condone.

Just as my father always said, one does not need to shout to make a change.

The next thing that happened was even more of a surprise. Maybe it was because I was a son of a "rebel", maybe they pitied my family or maybe it was because I talked to the mayor's daughter.

Just one, then two, then a group almost all of the crowd put the three middle fingers of their left hand to their lips and held it out to me. It is an old and rarely used gesture of our district, occasionally seen at funerals. It means thanks, it means admiration, it means good-bye to someone you love.

My tense hands relaxed a sense of calm washing over me. We were united in a strange way, something I thought would only happen in my dreams.

"Look at him! Look at this one!" Hollered Haymitch, throwing an arm around my shoulder. His arm was quite heavy, understandable, he's a wreck. "I like him!"

The scent of alcohol from his breath was strong, or maybe he just smelled of alcohol. "Lots of. . ." He paused, trying to think of a word.

I cringed as he slightly swayed around, trying my best to not touch him. "Spunk!" he declared triumphantly. "More than you!"

He released me, staggering to the front of the stage. "More than you!" He declared once more, pointing towards the camera.

Was he talking to the audience? Or maybe he was addressing the Capitol. I wish it's the latter, that would be funny.

Just as he opened his mouth to continue, he fell down the stage, knocking himself unconscious in the process. I snickered slightly, my face scrunching up right after.

Thankfully, the cameras were all pointed towards him, watching as they whisked him away into a stretcher. I took this moment to glare back into the distance, watching the scenery.

There was the hill that me, Katniss and Gale were just at. It looked so peaceful, contrary to my day.

"What an exciting day!" Effie warbled, trying to fix her tilted wig. It looked ridiculous. Why would Capitol people, no, why would anyone wear that?

It looks ugly, like a beaten up squirrel. Though I'd be lying if I said it wasn't eye-catching, though, beaten up squirrels are also eye-catching. “But more excitement to come! It’s time to choose our next tribute!” she continued, putting one hand to the second bowl.

Her fingertips grab the first slip it encounters. I hoped it wasn't Gale or Katniss. I didn't want to kill them, not that I'd ever stand a chance.

Katniss was extremely skilled with the bow, she could probably shoot my head from miles away. Gale, on the other hand, was strong, compared to him, I had the strength of a broken twig.

"Peeta Mellark," She read. Oh no. Why him? Of all the people in this district. His father just "introduced" me to him this morning, not just that, I knew him.

I watched him make his way up the stage, I had a clear look at him this time. He had a stocky build, medium height,  ashy blonde hair that falls in waves over his forehead. The shock of the situation registered on his face, though you could tell that he was alarmed by the way his blue eyes looked.

Like a prey knowing it'd be hunted.

Despite this, he still manages to climb up the small flight of stairs calmly.

Effie Trinket then asked for volunteers, but no one spoke up. He has two older brothers, I've seen them. But one is probably too old to volunteer, and the other just wouldn't. This was standard family devotion, what I'd done was a radical thing.

The mayor began to say the same old words he always says every reaping day. I couldn't help but think, why him?

I remember it all too well, that day, it was raining up a storm, the wind was howling. My mother and my brother were left at home, I was tasked to find food for us since my mother couldn't bear to show her face to the district.

How could she? Her husband has been executed for rebellion against the Capitol. One of the peacekeepers found weapons under his possession and he was killed. He managed to convince them to spare us, though sometimes I wished it hadn't worked.

Within a week of his death, we began to lose money, and therefore, food. Nobody wanted to help us, nobody wanted to associate with the family of a tyrant.

Shame, the family name bared shame. My mother didn't have the gall to go out and sell any of my father's things, my brother was too young to even understand what was going on.

I was angry. How could they have just taken everything away from us that easy? Who gave them the right to do that?

But at that moment, I couldn't afford to sit still and wallow in my resentment. That was a luxury I couldn't afford. not many could afford it either.

Starvation was a fairly common thing in district 12, though the amount of covering up the peacekeepers do no one a favour and fools no one.

There I was, a boy who wasn't even old enough to be registered into the pile walking around in the harsh weather, stripped away from my dignity and whatever money we had.

I found myself in the Mellark's bakery, being told off by the baker's wife, who was tired of having brats from the Seam paw through her trash. I would've screamed back then, but I didn't want the Peacekeepers called on me.

So I left without another word, sitting at a tree for some sort of cover from the harsh rain.  I remember the snorts of the pigs beside me, and that was when I realized I'm no better than cattle; the people of Panim were no better than cattle.

My knees buckles as I collapsed onto the wet grass, shuddering from the cold and the harsh reality. Maybe I had gone insane then, but I vaguely remember talking to the pigs, ranting to them.

They didn't listen, they were too busy rolling in the mud. Looking back, I find this extremely funny, but maybe that's because I don't want to pity myself.

I didn't even notice a boy until the pigs actually rose to eat the pieces of bread thrown at them. I stared at him for a long while, mainly because of the burnt bread, the crust was scorched black.

But a red mark on his cheekbone caught my attention. Had they hit him for burning the bread? My parents have never hit me, I couldn't even imagine what that would feel like.

He took one look at the bakery as if checking if the coast was clear before he turned back to the pigs. Though instead of feeding the pigs he tossed the loaves of bread to me.

I watched him walk towards the bakery and closing the kitchen door tightly behind him. All I could do was stay silent, before shoving them up to my shirt, muttering a broken thank you as I ran home.

The loaves had cooled by the time I got home, but that didn't matter. We had something to eat. Mother looked at me, relieved I didn't die. She hugged me, apologizing.

I didn't care though, we had food, that's what's important.

And for the first time in weeks, we had a proper meal.

I was thankful, the fact that he'd probably burnt the bread on purpose never occurred to me until I crawled onto the bed, staring at the wooden ceiling. An act of kindness, someone still cared.

It was as if spring came overnight, fluffy clouds, blue sky, the warm sweet air. At school, we would always catch each other's gazes. I felt a tad bit bad, his cheek was swollen and his eye had blackened.

I couldn't come up to say thank you, instead, I watched him from a distance, contemplating whether I should. When I went to fetch Nal, out eyes met once more, I was about to mouth a thank you until Nal tugged my shirt.

He handed me a dandelion. He's always loved flowers. His love for it made me realize how I would get the food we needed. All that time I and my father spent in the forest won't be for nothing.

To this day, I still feel as if I owe my family's life to him. I had honestly given up, but he gave me something. Peeta Mellark, the boy who gave me bread and the dandelion, both gave me hope.

Maybe if I had said thank you all those years ago I wouldn't be feeling so guilty now. I could always say it but something about thanking him whilst I'm practically holding a knife against his throat seems dishonest.

The mayor finished his speech, telling us to shake hands. His were as warm and firm as those loaves of bread. He squeezed me as if reassuring me. Or maybe those were just nervous spasms.

We turn back to the crowd as the anthem of Panem plays.

There are twenty-four of us fighting in that arena, as grim as it is, let's just hope someone kills him before I'm forced to. I don't wanna kill the reason I've survived all those years.

Word count: 2026

Tags:

@nin3s

Sorry for the late update my exams are next week and im rushing to finish my requirements at school. :"

[rebelliousties]

The day had been... quiet. Far too quiet, really, given how life in Dottore's laboratory typically was. The harbinger was nowhere to be found, and Kazuha was left to his lonesome, locked in the small room that had been deemed his since his arrival- the only signs of life beyond that door being a small meal dropped off sometime around what may have been noon. It's peaceful. It's suspicious.

And it’s as the sun begins to dip into late evening that it comes crashing to a harsh end. The typical Fatui guards that open the door and fall into their rhythm of harsh grabs, pulls, pushes, wrists fixed behind Kazuha’s back with the usual restraints, and when they drag him up and onto his feet and begin to pull him along, all of it is as it should be… until they take a turn they haven’t before. Led into a different part of the lab, further and further from any sense of normalcy that had been allowed to grow in what time Kazuha had been in the laboratory. Down countless flights of stairs until they’re well within the bowels of the laboratory where little more than the glow of lanterns shows where one is headed.

With little grace and with even less explanation, he is brought to a small room, and from there pushed through a rather large door that locks shut with a loud clink behind him-- Leaving him alone in… quite the arena. A massive stone area stained well with blood and guts, the overwhelming stench of death and defeat-- and a voice from a balcony far above, safe from any of the carnage.

“Good afternoon, Kaedehara,” Dottore calls down with a little wave of the hand and a positively punch-worthy grin on his face. “Welcome to Haeresys.”

Something behind a door on the other side of the arena makes a rather-- horrific noise.

“I won’t bore you with the petty details,” the doctor continues, resting his chin on his hand as he stares downwards, palming something in his hand that- after a moment- he tosses down without care into the center of the arena.

“Do try to survive as long as you can- It’d be simply dreadful if this was where you met your fate…” Standing up a bit straighter, he makes a motion to one of the scientists standing beside him, who quickly scuttles off into the darkness to do archons knows what. “Best of luck~!” is the last thing the doctor has to say- presumably, at least. All other words are drowned out, in any case, as the other door in the arena opens wide and unleashes a monstrosity.

Quiet once had been a blessing in his life, it used to mean peace, a moment of rest and recovery, the much needed silence between the constant run and clash of steel, the clarity of mind that came with feeling the nature he cherished all around him instead of blood on his hands and clothes.

It used to be good, healing, something he could enjoy.

Quiet was dreadful at best, now. Quiet was the time stretching beyond what his mind could truly grasp anymore, it was the suffocating, stagnant air of a room he had already memorized in a few days, so small he didn't just feel trapped anymore, he felt like he couldn't breathe. Quiet was too much and too little time at once in that place, it was what forced his mind to wander, to linger on all the wrong memories, to think so loudly the idea alone of once again throwing all his weight against the door in pitiful, desperate attempts to just escape- that idea was growing more and more tempting each second ( minute? Hour? ) that passed. And maybe he would, just to do something, to let physical pain stave off the growing restlessness in his mind that kept threatening to drive him insane in there.

This quiet fake peace was just more time for the bastard to prepare. Quiet was danger. It was a growing threat the more it went on.

There wasn't even the false blessing of white noise, of footsteps and light chat and life to be heard through the door. Only him in this prison with the stench of chemicals still choking him after so long, for hours on end, alongside those faint traces of blood he could still pick up. There had been too much blood in this place before.

Kazuha could imagine far too easily the screams that must've plagued this room, wondered how many there had been before him. Could even imagine his own limp body adding to the spilled blood. A morbid thought that felt almost too detached, that kept him from wandering too much into what already festered deep in his mind and nightmares. Anything as long as he could stop thinking so much when sleep refused to come to him.

Sore muscles tensed as soon as Kazuha heard the door creaking open, pushing back the instinct screaming at him to fight as soon as they laid a hand on him- he couldn't risk it, not again, no matter how much he would've liked nothing more than to listen to it, to fight and kick and bite and run.

A hiss, a low growl as they pushed him, and Kazuha was quiet once again, glaring like poison, seething as they dragged him around halls he was growing too familiar with. Anger wasn't enough to dismiss and ignore the increasing pounding of his heart the more they walked, however- he knew already what was coming.

Or so he thought.

A turn he didn't recognize, and Kazuha was already more aware than before, eyes darting around in search of that sickening routine he had been forced to accept ever since being brought here. New was just as much of a threat as normal here, but at least he knew what to expect with normal, could brace himself and take it.

( Maybe this would finally be the time he wouldn't walk back out, wouldn't wake up again in that suffocating cell- )

They reached their destination before Kazuha even knew it, trying however he could to find any new way out, to smooth over a panicked heart trying to claw out of his ribcage, barely registering the new room until he was all but shoved inside and into somewhere bigger-

-and immediately, he recoiled, eyes shut and a hand slapped over his mouth, far too sensitive nose scrunched and what little food he might've still had in his stomach already threatening to come back up. It wasn't just lingering in the air- everything here reeked of death, tried to drown him in it, the essence and soul itself of countless lost lives staining the walls and ground.

The mention of his name is enough to snap him out of it, to try and push through the nauseating feeling, remembering where he is, already knowing what's about to happen, deep, shaky breaths through the urge to gag. It's not enough to let him return the thrill with his own bitterness this time, not when he realizes where he's standing.

And then he sees something thrown in there, cautious at first- until he recognizes it, a mad run for it. Kazuha was more desperate than he wanted to show, but it didn't matter, not right now, not when he finally could feel the cold, polished surface of his vision once again in his hands. could feel the comforting wind at his side and even the wild, buzzing electro rebelling within in. Right there and then, Kazuha felt alive. More than he had in too long to count.

He felt like he could take on the storm again, now. Whatever was coming, whatever the mad man wanted to throw at him now, Kazuha would take it and return it in kind.

He reached for his sword, felt it within his vision- and stopped there, feeling it just within reach, only needing to push a little further to feel its weight manifest in his hand.

It was a split second decision, pulling his hand away, vision held close instead. Even with how slim his chances might end up being without it- he couldn't summon it, not now. So long as he watching him like a rat in cage thought this was all, thought he was capable of little more than groveling in the dirt, Kazuha still had some hope to hold onto, flickering as it may be. He'd keep his head low and his secrets close if it meant getting to stomp on the doctor until he heard the crack of bones and saw the door opening.

He had to survive.

If he could just push through this one fight, enough to let his vision push him, reach that high then-

"W-what..."

The shock leaves him into words before he can even think of it.

His eyes widen as soon as the... thing is allowed out into the arena, easily towering over him. Whatever this is, twisted and contorted limbs where they don't belong, blood and drool splattering the ground as it gargled and sounded like it was choking on it, scales and fur and skin- who knows what else mixed in with one too many eyes- Kazuha doesn't want to know what it is, what it is supposed to be or how it even came into being. It's almost enough for him to falter, everything yelling at him to just run as soon as it settles its sights on him.

And he listens, vision clutched in his left hand, hard enough he can feel the metal edges biting into his skin, anemo gathering at his feet at his command, blood rushing and heart pounding into his ears as he lets it loose, up in the air before the thing can touch him. For a moment, at least one thing feels right, feels as it should be, the power he was once so used to flowing freely in his veins and very soul again as it should've. It gives him confidence, at least a bit more than before.

But as much as he wished nothing more than to relish in the wind he longed for all this time, now isn't the moment for it- he looks down, sees the abomination turning around, trying to find him, and he knows he has to move fast, there is no time for hesitation. No time to wonder whether or not what he was about to kill had once been human. He wouldn't put it past a bastard like Dottore, stomach twisted into knots at the thought alone.

There is no sword in his hand, no blade to make quick work of anything as he once would've, but it's fine- Kazuha has dealt with worse than not having a weapon. When it came to fighting for his life, he was too familiar with it. And so, right before he's going to plunge down, he allows the angry surge of electro to run wild, tries to redirect as much of it as he can to his hand and ignore the stinging of an old scar. He needs to help guide it with the aid of anemo to even try fashioning it into something useful- and then he's diving down on the thing, hand thrust forward, skin crackling and tingling- and the creature is shrieking as soon as he strikes, blood bursting.

Shrieking- but still alive. And angry, if the sudden way it lashes out, eyes twitching, trying to locate him, is anything to go by. He needs to move- but no matter how much power he's holding once again, it's still pushing an already bruised, exhausted body well beyond his limits.

Something grabbed him, slammed into him before he could let the winds push him away, shoved him right into the wall behind him, a choked gasp as he felt something cracking and then crumpled to the floor, will the only thing letting his hand clench tighter around the vision, like the act alone of letting go of it would be what finally killed him.

And for a moment... he almost wants to let it all end there.

Kazuha is tired- exhausted. Bloodied and bruised and trying so desperately to just hold on when there wasn't even a good reason to, when nothing changed and it all kept being just a blur of pain, darkness, empty nothing and spiraling into thoughts he didn't want.

He could've just let this thing crush him, tear him apart, and Dottore wouldn't have been able to do anything this time, wouldn't have had anything to resuscitate anymore. He can feel it shake the ground with each step, slowly turning around, can smell blood upon blood that makes him want to just throw up. He can hear too clearly after the muddy feeling of being underwater faded, hears every twitch and shift and any other unnatural thing it's doing.

His sight is already blurry, struggling to focus, head heavy, dizzy even as he laid there on the ground.

And then, Kazuha pushes himself on his knees, heavy breath as he tries to pull some air back into strained lungs, nearly stumbles on trembling arms, fingers digging into dirt. He could give up now. But he refuses to, even when there's no point in persevering, when he's nothing more than cheap entertainment for a crazed mind too far gone.

He's come too far, survived too much, carried so many burdens on his shoulders. Giving up is out of the question.

He has people to go back to, people he hopes are still waiting for him. They would never let him hear the end of it if he gave up now, would they?

Focus, Kazuha. There is still a winning chance here, beyond putting a miserable creature out of its misery. He can go directly for the head right now, dethrone that mockery of a fake god.

If he could just get through this one...

Focus. The creature is finding him again, eyes starting to focus. Despite how much everything hurts, every little movement sending tortured nerves into a rage, flaring all over his body, Kazuha forces it to move, to push him back on his feet, the wind picking up and electricity dancing at his fingertips untamed. A weak spot, he needs to find a weak spot-

It reacted to pain. Its exterior wasn't invulnerable. Whether it had been his anemo, his electro or the combination of both, something had damaged it. It wasn't indestructible. He could kill it.

As soon as it was charging again, Kazuha reacted, allowed the electro to move him, all finesse and grace he held with the anemo thrown aside- he had no time for precise movements, survival was what mattered. He allowed it to charge into the wall behind him, came to a halt in his own rush to dodge in a weird mix of a roll and a land on his feet that made him wince and almost fall again, pushing through the pain to turn around and see the thing flailing as it tried to recover.

He needs to move now-

Anemo pushes him up in the air, where he feels like he belongs, electro propels him forward like a spark, gritting his teeth against the sudden surge tearing through his body and the lightning he cannot tame, until he gets where he wants to be- lands right on the thing's back(?), digs his free hand into the previous wound, grimacing as he felt the blood oozing out and hoping there isn't more mixed in there. The thing bristles, coarse and messily put together fur rising, but Kazuha pays it no mind, not yet, just tries to secure his footing before he can fall under claws of who knows how many different animals and be torn to shreds right there and then.

And right there, he screams- raw and feral and just angry, furious, digging his hand further into the burning wound, as deep as he can push it. Then- he lets it all loose.

Kazuha has been well aware of just how dangerous something as innocent looking as anemo could be. Has learned all the ways he could think of using it, has learned to polish it from the carefree, gentle breezes into a sharp, cold weapon, it's like a beast he has tamed and carried at his side, the winds bristling around him like bared fangs. It served as a threat, as a way to deter people before his sword was unsheathed, never really had the chance to do more than that.

Now, he'd let that beast get out.

And it's messy. He disregards the agony in his arm, just lets the burst of anemo loose like a hurricane, lets the electro that had already burned him once follow and seep into the winds- and it's like a bomb has been set loose inside the thing, pushing and pushing and tearing until tissue and skin alike give into to the pressure. There is another shriek, almost making him feel some more pity for the thing before it quiets down and its body goes limp. When Kazuha gets his arm back, it's a mess, not sure which blood is his and which is it, numb to the cold and shock it had to carry.

And as he stands there in blissful silence, vision still held tightly and too tired to care about all the blood, Kazuha looks up.

He's glaring through all the trembling and panting of a tortured enough body and soul, directly at Dottore, so much hatred and fury in burning crimson like blood, there is a clear threat there even without words.

He won. And now Dottore is next.

Kazuha doesn't say anything, doesn't even have the energy to, heart in a frenzy and blood rushing in his veins. He just lifts a foot, takes a step forward, lets the winds gather at his feet again-

-and his eyes go wide at the pure agony that shoots up his body with that simple action.

Before he can even try to correct himself, he sways, falls off the corpse and can barely rush the wind to catch his fall, but it's not enough. The vision is still in his hand, the electro is rushing through his veins more than his blood is by now, like trying to rage and push him forward, trying to tell him to get up, the chance he needed is right here-

Kazuha gasps, his grip on the vision is going slack without meaning to, his fingers still desperately clawing at it, his arms not responding much beyond that, his legs too heavy to move.

Not like this, not-

Before he can do anything else, carry on what he had been hoping for, right as he saw that sliver of an opportunity, of an escape, his sight blurs more and more, the dark spot dancing around the edges growing- and then he's blessed with nothingness.

[whereflowersbloom]

Let me heal you

Jason Todd didn’t hate Bruce or Dick. Nah. Waste of valuable energy. In fact, Jason respected, dare he say even admired his ward and brother. What he despised were their inflexible morals, or rather his family forcing their morals on everyone else. Specially him. We don’t kill. Yes, yes. Fine. What exasperated him was when Bruce decided that his morals applied to everyone else that he took issue. Including the black sheep of the family. He didn’t precisely kill, he let himself go for a single minute. He lost it one time. Batman gave everyone unlimited chances at redemption, except the Red Hood. One mistakes and he’s exiled. In the end it didn’t matter. Nevertheless, he was aware that was not the reason he was angry tonight. No. It was entirely something else.

He could hear her anywhere he was, no matter what time of day or night, what state of sobriety or inebriation, critically wounded. In the dark dangerous streets of Gotham, the sparring ring with the smack of fists and bodies, between the breaths he took as he was falling into the arms of Morpheus. He could always hear Raven. Foolish. She was too far from him. He lived and painfully yearned for her. She was soft curves and he was hard edges. She was a fierce and magical Phoenix while he was a fucking jay with broken wings and a delirious mind. What a catch, Jason.

It drove him mad, how much it didn’t make sense, at all. A soldier wouldn’t fall asleep to a lullaby, but rather the drumbeats of wrath and screams of his opponents. But she was that, for in each beat of her heart Jason heard the call to arms. These complicated feelings, he didn’t remember when they started surging in him. He tried to sort out his feelings, even though he knew that would hurt worse than the burning pain emanating from his cracked ribs. Tsk. He could use a cig right this second.

She was probably at the Manor with Richard, staying in the guest room which was Coincidently next to his old bedroom. And here he was alone, in his modest studio apartment. The pain of his bruised and broken flesh and bones was nothing compared to that excruciating knowledge. Jason rubbed his palms over his weary eyes trying to calm himself. Attempt to dampen the burning rage that was about to send him to a dark place in his mind he didn’t want to think about. He had control. He couldn’t lose control over the voices. Feel the boiling anger, burning in his chest, squeezing his heart. Let the eternal agony that burned through his blood and singed his eyes an unnatural green color. He left that fucking bullshit behind. He loathed the Pit for taking his chance to offer her something...relatively normal.

Since Artemis and Bizarro were gone. Officially, Jason was on his own for the first time in a long while. As he pulled his arms up to finish bandaging his wounds, his shoulders stung and in a gasping breath Jason quickly dropped his arms. He was useless. The pain was worse today than it usually had been. Probably from all the previous battles against Black Mask and his personal army of mercenaries. They had become a pain in the ass. Perhaps a short visit to good Doctor Tompkins would have been a better idea. He cursed breathlessly.

A knock at the door was his only warning before he turned around to see her. Raven opening the door and striding in as if this was her room and not his. Not that this was the first time she sneaked into his apartment.

She was here. It wasn’t a vision or product of his imagination or effect of high dosage of painkillers. He swallowed hard as he found himself speechless, mind blank in her presence. With her dark cloak and hood down, serene expression and looking at him with intense amethyst gems.

He paid a high price after using the pit to have his life back and this anew tremendous strength. But there’s something else, something he’d never felt before. A pull in his chest, as though someone had tied a string to one of his ribs and it was tugging on it, gently but insistently, coaxing him towards her...She was his answer. For a half-demon goddess she was the closest thing to heaven to him. The wings of freedom.

“What is it?” Jason growled harshly. It wasn’t a threat. He simply didn’t want her to see him like this. In such a weak position that he couldn’t even patch up his own damn body. Those little bits of his bloody past stopped him from reaching out to her. What right did he have to ask her to love him despite everything? Indeed he paid a high price.

“Came here to gloat, little bird?” He spat poisonous words with a half smirk. Poisonous words and threats were all he ever had. He closed his eyes, breathing slowly, deeply, getting air into his lungs, refusing to be beaten by this, refusing to be anything less than civil and let her see right through him.

There was no answer. She watched him closely for a moment before slowly closing the distance between her and him. As if she was nervous that he would order her away. Like last time she had been here, her palm caressing his cheek with such tenderness he had forgotten it existed. Her breath was warm against his neck and he was dying to mutter ‘please stay’.

What a joke. Jason Todd. Unapologetically and insanely in love with the little Raven. A Titan. Each atom of his body breathed longing into the space between them, aching to be with her, love her as a whole as it should be. But with a fractured mind, chained with firm mania cuffs. So hateful and yet insanely in love with this creature capable of drowning him in his ashes.

“I came to offer my help healing you but if you don’t want then...” She studied throughly his figure for a solid minute but at his reaction, furrowed forehead formed a thin line. She wrapped her arms around herself, trying to regain her elegant composure, taking a step back.

He quickly wrapped his hand around her wrist to stop her from leaving. It was our of instinct or his body ice cold starved for a ray of light. He kept his face clear of the pain his shoulders felt at the movement, but Raven’s eyes flickered to them. A flash of genuine worry. Why he couldn’t apologize and be a gentleman like the golden boy. Damn it. Manners Todd.

“Are you mad at me?” Raven asked serious. She twisted her body around to face him yet she didn’t pry her wrist from his grip that had gentled as soon as he halted her.

Did she want the truth? No. He was mad at himself for not fighting for her. For being weak. For his wickedness. For all his bullshit. But the beat in his chest was now pounding like a hammer against an anvil, erasing the other sounds around him. He could only focus on her.

“No.” Jason forced a chuckled though it lacked the usual mirth. “I’m not mad at you. Which is surprising considering we are usually infuriating each other every other day, sunshine. Missing me much?” Letting her go was far more unbearable than his cracked ribs. She continued staring at him deciding whether he was telling her the truth or guessing what game he was playing tonight.

He felt his body tense in anticipation of her answer. Did she miss him? Did she think of him as often as he did? He considered briefly sending her away though every fibre of his being rebelled against the action.

Raven knew she shouldn’t be here but yet she found herself coming anyway, despite her rationality telling her to run, to flee, to hide, to forget that she ever came here…But something deeper, something stronger, urged her forwards. She didn’t dare fight it any longer. Yes. She missed him every second since their last encounter. She bit her lip out of habit. She was a Titan and he was an outlaw. Different sides of the coin.

“Jason.” Her free hand stretched for his that had loosened from her wrist. His callouses scraped across her skin and she found herself enjoying the touch perhaps too much for her own good. She recalled the last time they made contact. First he gave into it like a malnourished kid offered a piece of bread, but then he rejected it unreasonably. So adamant on pushing her away. Not this time.

Raven let out a heavy and deep sigh.

“How long do you plan to continue this ridiculous dance? Running around in circles.” She asked him openly with a soft voice. Her heart seizing painfully tight in her chest.

As long as it takes for you to leave me, he thought to himself. No answer.

“Jason” Raven repeated his name until his eyes met hers, it was a combination of lake blue and cyan. Impossibly beautiful and perfect, usually brightening with amusement or laughter, slightly shadowed by regret. Except now they were dull with contained sorrow. Let me heal you. All the hurting parts of you.

“Are you ashamed of me? Is that why you reject me?” She spoke with a cracked voice and glassy eyes. Doubting her worth snd pride wounded.

What. No. No. Hell no. The least he ever wanted was to hurt her. His fists clenched with frustration. How could she ever think he was ashamed of her? He adored her with his broken and dammed soul. He was ashamed of himself.

“I’m not ashamed of you.” Jason said with a shake of his head. “I’m disappointed in my own weakness. I could never be whole...” He admitted out loud with the weight of his past deeds and his unpredictable future. He inhaled deeply as he ruffled his dark curls.

She narrowed her eyes in understanding, wetting her lips before speaking. “Jason. You’re stronger then you think. You can deal with this. Don’t let this ruin who you are and what we could have.” She whispered softly, words caught between mustered courage and steady resolve. Voicing the possibility of a ‘us’. There was no point denying their attraction at this point.

One moment he was standing there. Motionless. Then he was moving, moving towards her, closer, before he’s quite given his body permission to do so because he couldn’t just stand there and not hold her.

At that Jason stopped breathing for a moment and his eyes shot to her. He wrapped his arms around her frame, tightening a fraction. His eyes were filled with something Raven was unsure of how to describe even with her empathic abilities. It was a mixture of emotions she couldn’t keep up with. Something she’s seen in him before but no one else.

Surprise. Fear. Worry. But over all happiness. Yes happiness and divine peace.

He stared down at her, a rational protest rising in his throat, the terrified assertion that she can’t help him, she can’t put up with this side of him. The rage and the voices and his uncontrollable anger. But in her eyes he found the answer. She’d already made up her mind. As if she was saying ‘I choose you’. Him. The damaged not charming and righteous Dick.

She could feel Jason’s volatile emotions call to her, voice hoarse and raw from his injuries but distinct and sharp, piercing straight to her soul. Pleading with his spirit. “Please…Stay with me.” She automatically snaked her arms around his neck. Her touch. Merely touching her used to be enough but now he couldn’t get enough.

He had been terrified by what her touch had inspired in him at first, terrified of what he might be able to do to her body if she let him…The things he wanted ro do to her. But unable to stop thinking about it, craving it, his lips on her neck, his strong, hard body pressing hers into the wall of his apartment, not caring anymore about his own physical pain. He pressed a passionate kiss to her lips.

Jason had never believed in soulmates, that was folks tales for mindless romantics. This didn’t change his mind about the topic. One thing was certain, if there was a person whose edged fit his perfectly regardless of the roughness, that would be Raven. She was darkness herself but in his mind she was the sun encasing him in gentle warmth. The stars were meant to reflect in her eyes. If there was a heaven, Raven was the owner of his.

Small jayrae prompt for @alerialblu @ravenfan1242 @amaati @niahti @jasonrae117 @catyypss 💜💖

[vampiric-daydreams]

Enlightenment

Jasper x Reader

This is Part 3 of the Jasper miniseries. Here is Part 1.

Summary: Your secret investigation picks up speed and you finally talk to Jasper. As the evidence piles up, you wonder if you’ve made a grave mistake. A surge of courage paves a new course for your future.

Word Count: 2,814

A/N: !!!!!!!!

*

Your finger hovered over the call button as you stared at Jasper’s name with intent. Your hairs stood on end as the chilly night air forced you deeper into the thick blankets enveloping you. The bitter cold clouded your windows as midnight approached, and the soft pitter-patter of rain splashing on the roof served as a comforting lullaby.  Heavy eyelids threatened to fall as Jasper’s name blurred. You tapped the screen.

‘Hey,’

The word sat in the text box and waited for you to press send. It was the third time you had tried to contact him that night. First craving to hear his voice, knowing that his words and his time in that moment would be only for you; and then settling for a message you would never send. What if, after he felt he’d resolved everything, that would be it? No more talking? Those ideas were enough to make you shut the screen off and leave the phone on charge.

You wanted this to be a chance for a beginning, not an ending. It was his choice to not want to be with you, but that didn’t mean he shouldn’t be near you. As painful as his sheer loyalty and devotion to Alice was, it only caused you to like him more. Long forgiven were his shameless brags about his girlfriend; they made you blush when you imagined him talking about you.

As your head sank into your pillow, thoughts of affection lulled you to sleep; and dreams of soft lips and firm hands carried you through the lonely, frigid night.

 *

 At school, life went on. Jason proceeded to pine after Eric Yorkie, just as you pined after Jasper. Alice continued to greet you whenever she saw you, but the other Cullens had faded into the background. As you walked into your English class expecting to see your neighbouring seat empty again, somebody was already sitting there, nibbling on a pencil.

Bella Swan wore her hair in a low, messy ponytail. She tugged at the sleeves of her flannel. “H-Hey,” she said as you approached. “You’re (Y/N), right?” Your heart fluttered; not because she knew your name, but because she likely heard it from a Cullen - and you hoped it was Jasper who had mentioned you. You slid into your seat beside her, tripping over her old orange backpack on the way. She dragged her bag out of the walkway and stammered a quick, “sorry.”

“You’re Bella Swan?” You feigned ignorance. Bella nodded. “You’re dating Edward, right?”

Her shoulders seemed tense. “Y-Yeah, for a while.”

“So how come you switched classes?” Did Jasper make her so he could get away from you?

“Oh, uh, the admin ladies just said another student wanted to switch due to a class conflict, so I said I didn’t mind.” Wanted. Jasper had chosen to distance himself from you, and the reminder made you skip a breath.

“I haven’t seen Edward around today, did he skip school without you or something?” You changed the subject before you could cry, still careful to not pry too hard with Bella. This was a chance to dig deeper into the Cullens and their secret.

“Oh… he isn’t feeling well, so he’s at home.” Bella Swan was a terrible liar. She had so many tells and nervous habits, you couldn't believe her father was the chief of police. Bella stopped tugging at her flannel sleeves and instead rolled them up to her elbows. You would never have seen it if she hadn’t raised her arm to tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear—but there it was; clear as crystal. A scar marred the inner side of her wrist; lighter than the rest of her skin and raised. A human bite.

 *

 Never had you noticed, despite all your pining for the Hale boy, that none of the Cullens ever ate anything. Emmett and Rosalie’s trays held a few pieces of fruit, whole and untouched, until Alice and Jasper joined them in dumping their food in a nearby trash can. They never eat or go to the bathroom. You had thought more about how safe your thoughts were and deemed that most evidence you had towards mind-reading pointed at Edward. It was Edward who put words into your mouth—and even Alice pointed her finger at him in the phony story she had tried to feed you. You would test that theory today and not hide your thoughts to see what would happen. 

Reciting the proof you’d gathered in your head, there was a word on the tip of your tongue. A very strong accusation—one that was mythical and insane, but you couldn’t shake the idea since you saw Bella’s bite mark. The notebook on the table was open to your ‘Cullen’ page, and you were near enough to observe their irises from where you were sitting. You just needed to act nonchalant about it.

You hadn’t updated your notebook for a week as you hadn’t gotten close enough to any of them to have a proper look. But your table was only ten strides away from theirs. You clicked your pen. Monday, Emmett, gold. Jasper, gold. You took a bite out of your sandwich, creating a gap in glances so as not to draw their attention. Rosalie, gold. Your heart was racing. Alice, gold. You glanced back at the previous entry just to be sure, but the black ink told no lies. Rosalie and Alice’s eyes had changed. Your hand moved, and the words formed on the paper in front of you.

Get close, check for contacts.

It was the last logical explanation for any of it; and while Jasper’s eyes never changed, he would be the easiest Cullen to talk to today as he was still waiting to apologise and give you his own phony explanation. After lunch, it didn’t take long for you to find Jasper waiting outside one of his classes. All it took was one look for him to follow you out to a quiet space behind one of the back buildings on campus.

His Southern twang made your heart melt. “You didn’t call. I thought you weren’t ready.”

Why didn’t his biological sister sound Southern?

“I wanted to do this in person.” You took care to seem assertive, despite your teeth threatening to chatter and your palms sweating.

“(Y/N), I’m not even sure where to start…” Jasper began apologising, just as his adopted siblings and girlfriend did before him; repeating the same so-called explanation supposed to make everything go away. You tried to focus on your goal instead of the way his voice broke, or the way the tips of his strawberry blonde hair brushed against his strong jawline. Concentrating on his eyes, you were looking for a very thin line—one that would give away a contact lens. But his eyes were flawless, clear, and natural. A chill crept up your spine.

The more Jasper spoke, the more you heard that his manner of speaking sounded dated at times. It came and left like each beat of a butterfly’s wing, but it was noticeable to somebody already on that train of thought. That word that came to you earlier threatened to slip from your tongue if you weren’t careful; and you restrained it by clenching your teeth.

“I understand,” you replied once Jasper had finished reciting the script they had given him. A swift wind of courage blew through your body as you straightened up. “And I’m sorry for making you stew in guilt for this long. I guess I was just afraid to approach you.” You twisted the knife. “But even Alice said, it’s not like any of you bite, right?”

Jasper’s gaze morphed from sincerity to one that pierced through you. His body turned rigid, and his eyes squinted ever so slightly. “That’s right. We gave you one hell of an impression. But as you can see, that impression was wrong, and we’re just average people like you.” The double-edge in his words threatened to cut you. “So, there’s nothing for you to worry about.”

The suspicion that drove you suddenly came to a halt; replaced by a warm feeling of satisfaction and comfort. It was just like that time you had that confrontation with Jasper and Edward, and you felt soothed; but this time, you were conscious of it. So, you soldiered on through this strange, artificial complacency and tried to hold on to any shred of logic you had left.

“It’s weird how whenever my anger or difference of opinion becomes inconvenient for you, I suddenly feel this strange toggling of my emotions.” The cosy aura strengthened. You remained aware. “It’s almost as if you’re controlling it somehow. Just like how Edward knows what I’m thinking and Alice has no trouble finding me. But there’s nothing to see here, right?”

Jasper stopped whatever it was he was trying to do and gave you an incredulous look. “Come with me.”

He started walking, never turning back to check if you were following, towards an outline of trees in the distance that led to the forest. You walked in the opposite direction, back into the school. Now that your theory was all but confirmed, you wouldn’t follow any of his kind into further seclusion. Entering the nearest building, the gym, you sat on the bleachers and pulled out your notebook. There would be enough witnesses surrounding you to ensure your safety. You dug around in your backpack for a loose pen and clicked it.

The Cullens are vampires.

-          Edward, mind reading

-          Jasper, emotions, cold skin

-          Bella, bite scar on arm

-          Alice… extreme knowing???

-          Never eat

-          Never use bathroom

-          All look the same, not biologically related

-          Eyes change colour, no contact lenses

You slammed the book shut and stuffed it back in your backpack. Clenching your car keys, you felt eyes on you. On your hands, on your back, on your face. Fear took over your mind as abandoned all logic and raced out of the gym and into your car; darting your eyes left and right for any angry vampires waiting to murder you to conceal their secret.

This was a mistake. A horrible mistake. You should have told someone where you were going, and who you were going with so the Cullens would be accountable. The engine roared to life as you slammed your foot on the accelerator. What if they killed your family over this? You swerved, narrowly missing a police car in an intersection. Red and blue lights flashed behind you as a siren sounded. Shit. You pulled over in a side street and rolled down your window.

The officer pulled in behind you, taking his time to get out of the police car. You tapped your fingers on the dusty dashboard, checking your side mirror to see what was taking so long; only to watch as Chief Swan himself shut his car door and strolled over to your side window.

“Everything all right over here?” He put his hands on his hips. “What’s going on?”

“I’m sorry Officer—I mean Chief Swan—I’m in a hurry to get home, I’m not feeling well.” Your knuckles whitened as you clenched your fists.

“You have a licence with you?” He was holding a clipboard and a pen. The last thing you needed was a fine on top of everything else. You handed him your licence and tried to look as pathetic as possible. “Well, (Y/N),” he read your name, “must be one hell of an illness.”

“I’m really sorry, Chief Swan. I was feeling anxious at school and I needed to get out of there and back home where I’ll feel better.”

Chief Swan sighed. “I can drop you off, and my partner will drive your car home.” He gave you a stern look. “I won’t fine you this time. Just drive more carefully? Maybe let somebody else drive if you’re this stressed out?”

You nodded fast. He motioned for you to get out of the car.

The drive back to your place was silent. You contemplated asking him how he felt about his daughter dating one of the Cullens to see if he’d spill anything; but there was nothing left to dig for. Jasper didn’t have to say the word, and neither did you, for your discovery to become clear on both ends. You tried to steady your breathing as the police car stopped by the curb outside your house. Your own car pulled into the driveway as the other officer locked the door behind him and crossed his arms.

Your legs shook as you exited the police car, the other officer handed you your keys. “Go inside, get some rest,” Chief Swan said as you looked back at him. “We’ll have to contact a parent or guardian, so I’ll stop by later tonight when they’re home. You’ll be all right by yourself?”

“Y-Yeah, thanks.”

Chief Swan and the other officer watched you enter your front door before they drove away.

You scurried to your bedroom, collapsing onto your bed with your backpack still on. Hot tears burned your cheeks as they dripped down to your chin; your snotty nose forcing you to breathe through your mouth. It was dark by the time you had calmed. You slid your backpack from your shoulders and kicked it against your pillows. Wiping your face with shaking hands, you pressed your nose to the glass window and peered out. No vampires waiting to kill me.

Temporary relief washed through you. You were safe now, but what about tomorrow, and the next day? What about after that? You walked to the kitchen and filled a glass with water. The cool liquid soothed your raw throat.

The Cullens couldn’t let you go on knowing what they truly were. It wasn’t as though you would tell anybody—who would even believe you? Even now, with all the evidence you had collected and seen, you struggled to accept it, yourself. A sick laugh shook your core as you imagined storming into Chief Swan’s office at the station with theories about vampires dating his daughter. He, and everyone else in town would call you crazy. Even telling one person what you thought had the potential to ruin your life.

Your teeth ached from how hard you had been clenching your jaw earlier, and your chest felt so tight that it hurt to breathe. You finished your water and washed out the glass. It wasn’t that late yet, but after the events of the day all you wanted to do was curl up under your blankets and try to sleep.

Thump.

The sound came from your bedroom. You crept against the wall, keeping close to the shadows. What if they want to kill me right now?

You exhaled roughly. They couldn’t kill you. Forks was a small town; people would notice if you were missing. It wasn’t something that would slide under the radar… Then you froze solid. All the supposed animal attacks of the past year flashed through your mind, one by one. Wasn’t there a rumour going around about the bodies being drained of blood?

You cracked open your bedroom door, and goosebumps dispersed across your skin. The air in your room was colder than the rest of the house, and you shivered. Your eyes darted around in search for someone, but your bedroom was empty. You sighed in relief as you noticed the sound had come from your backpack falling off your bed. You walked over and picked it back up, rummaging through it for your notebook. A frown forced its way onto your face. You swore you hadn’t taken it out, yet.

Pouring the backpack’s contents onto your bed, you scattered text books and pens to the side. Nothing. You searched beneath your bed, in the space between your dresser and your wall, and across every surface in the room. Drawers were pulled and piles of clothes were frantically scattered as the walls closed in on you. If you’d lost this notebook with everything in it…

A frigid gust of air froze your back before you turned around. Your notebook was missing; and the window you knew for certain had been closed before you left was now wide open.

Tears pricked at your eyes again as you spun around, stifling a scream. Jasper Hale now stood five steps away from you, his impossible eyes burning with intensity.

*

Tags: @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce @eggmettcullen @xcharlottemikaelsonx @oi-itsemily @cacti-succulents-andlesbians @aw0kenangel @jelly-fishy-babie @kawaiikpoplover268 @awkwardnesshabitat @salsameter @dillybuggg @awesomebooklover17 @badgirlsdeaddreams @raindancer2004 @camillapad @champagnejoker  

[teenwolffanclub-me]

Season 1, Episode 7: Night School (Part One)

Hey there beautiful reader! If you’re new here, this is a series I’m writing where each chapter is an episode from the first season of Teen Wolf. If you’ve been here before, hey! I missed you! Previous and future chapters are linked at the end of each part if you want to catch up.

Pairing: Stiles x Psychic! Reader (eventually)

Notes: Okay, so. I’m updating two nights in a row because I couldn’t help but write this. Buckle up. This one’s a lot. It’s probably my favorite episode from the whole season and was super fun to write!

P.S. There’s a kiss. There’s a kiss. Guys, THERES FINALLY A REAL KISS! I hope you’re as excited as I am, otherwise this is kinda awkward...

                                                     ————————

I pulled the sides of Stiles’ jacket tighter around myself, trying to warm up. He’d practically shoved the thing into my hands when he noticed that I was shivering in just my t-shirt and shorts. The school was kept absolutely freezing at night, apparently.

After locking the door with plyers and deciding that it definitely wouldn’t hold a damn thing back, we ran into the nearest classroom. That’s where we all stood now, Scott and Stiles trying to move a huge desk in front of the door.

They only managed to move it about an inch before it squealed against the tiles. I cringed at the loud noise, my heart falling into my stomach as a feeling of dread washed over me.

“Wait. Stop, stop.” Stiles whispered. “The door’s not gonna keep it out.”

“I know—” Scott started, but Stiles quickly interrupted him, twitching with anxiety.

“It’s your boss.”

“What?” Scott sounded utterly offended by that theory.

“Deaton? The alpha? Your boss.” Stiles pointed an accusatory finger at Scott from across the desk.

“No.” Scott insisted with a shake of his head.

“Yes. A murdering psycho werewolf!” His voice grew harsh at the end, as if it was Scott’s fault. If it were even true.

I’d never met his boss, so I had no idea why Stiles would suspect him of being the alpha. To be honest, I was still ridiculously confused about what was going on at all.

“Why would it be him?” I prodded, crossing my arms in an attempt at containing some of my body heat.

They both sent a quick glance my way, but otherwise didn’t acknowledge my existence. My jaw clenched involuntarily as my chest tightened with frustration. I was so beyond over their stupid looks and stupid secrets.

“It can’t be.” Scott insisted again.

“Oh, come on. He disappears and ten seconds later that thing shows up to toss Derek twenty feet through the air? That’s not convenient timing?” Stiles threw his hands up in disbelief.

I mean, he had a point.

“It’s. Not. Him.” Scott said slowly, agitated that Stiles wouldn’t relent.

“He killed Derek.”

“Guys.” I interrupted, but they continued as if I hadn’t spoken.

“Derek’s not dead...” Scott began hyperventilating at the thought. “He-he can’t be dead.”

“Blood spurted out of his mouth, okay? That doesn’t exactly qualify as a minor injury. He’s dead. And we’re next.” Stiles rubbed at his forehead, pacing back and forth with worry.

“Guys.” I tried again, my hands tightening into fists at my sides as a surge of anger moved through me.

“Okay! Just. What do we do?”

“Get to my Jeep. We get out of here. You seriously think about quitting your job. Alright? Good?”

“Guys!” Both of their heads whipped in my direction at my outburst, as if just then hearing me for the first time. “One of you tell me what the hell is going on. Right now.”

Stiles scoffed and wagged an angry finger at me. “You shouldn’t be making any demands right now. You are not supposed to be here. I mean, how insane can you be, hanging around the school at night? What the hell were you thinking?” 

I just stared at him with a quirked eyebrow, waiting for him to process what he’d said. When he realized a moment later, he dropped his hand back to his side with a grimace.

“It doesn’t matter. She’s here now.” Scott shook his head, looking defeated. “Let’s just focus on getting out of here.”

“Or let’s focus on answering my questions.” I snapped, not ready to change the subject. “Because, right now, it’s not looking too hot for you guys. Correct me if I’m wrong, but it seems like you kidnapped—then lost—Scott’s boss. Had a secret meeting with Derek and summoned the alpha for some god forsaken reason!”

“That’s exactly what we did.” Stiles snarked with a swivel of his head.

I stared at him in stunned silence, my mouth hanging open. They must’ve lost their fucking minds if they thought any of that was a good idea. This is why they needed to keep me in the loop, so I could stop them from doing dumb shit like this.

Suddenly, frantic rattling sounded from behind me. I turned to see Scott trying to pry open one of the windows and rushed to his side. Stiles and I had been too busy fighting to notice him walk over there.

I put a hand on his, stopping him. “They don’t open. The school’s climate controlled.”

“Then we break it.” He chest was heaving up and down quickly as he struggled to get his breathing under control.

“That’ll make too much noise.” Stiles declared, joining us at my other side.

“We’ll run fast. Really fast.” His wide eyes moved from the two of us to the parking lot outside, and he stiffened. “Stiles, what’s wrong with the hood of your Jeep?”

“What do you mean? Nothing’s wrong.” He leaned closer to get a better look despite his dismissive tone.

“It’s bent.” Scott huffed, still staring out the window.

“What? You mean, like, dented?” Stiles jerked forward, pressing his chest into my back harshly.

I stumbled from the force of it, but caught myself on the windowsill before I could actually fall down. As we stood there, way too close together, I tried to ignore how good his body heat felt against me.

“No! I-I mean bent.”

“Well, what the hell happen—”

The window just above our heads shattered without warning, the sound deafeningly loud.

A pair of arms instantly wrapped around my waist and dragged me to the floor. I fell down between Stiles’ legs and felt one of his arms move up to shield our heads from the thousands of tiny glass shards that came twinkling to the tiles around us. 

Something boxy and heavy clunked to the floor before sliding a few feet away. One of Stiles’ hands left me to pick up the flashlight he’d dropped. He shakily illuminated whatever had come through the window, breathing erratically against me. My chest swelled with warmth at the way he’d instinctively protected me from the impact, but I didn't have much time to dwell on it.

“That’s my battery.” He fumbled around behind me, trying to get to his feet.

I rose onto my knees, mostly wanting to get out of his way, but part of me found our close proximity a little jarring and needed to create some space between us.

Scott slapped a hand on his shoulder before pulling him back down. “Don’t!”

“We have to move.” He snapped, shaking his arm free.

“He could be right outside.” Scott whispered harshly.

“Uh, I think he is right outside.” I huffed. There was no way that thing flew in here by itself, which meant whoever—or whatever—threw it couldn’t be far.

“Just let me take a look.” He tentatively moved into a crouch and just barely lifted his head high enough to see past the windowsill.

“Nothing?” Stiles asked, his voice light with hope.

Scott shook his head and Stiles immediately sprang to his feet. We quickly followed suit, walking briskly out of the classroom. The guys came up with the bright idea to get Derek’s keys off of his body—which was beyond gross—and take his car. We knew our best bet was to go through the boys locker room, because it has the least amount of windows in the building.

Once there, I quickly realized we’d walked ourselves into one of the furthest locations from an exit. If the alpha was in the school with us, we were pretty much trapped.

I really needed to stop letting them make the plans.

Just before I reached for the doorknob that would take us into the next hall, Scott grabbed my elbow. “Wait. I hear something.”

My breath stilled and I froze. That wasn’t a good sign. There shouldn’t be anyone here this late, including us. We stood there for a few seconds while he tried to figure it out, before his eyes widened and he moved a step away.

“Hide.” His voice quivered with fear as he continued walking backwards.

I turned on my heel, trying to find the closest place to conceal myself. Stiles almost immediately stepped into my path as he did the same and I huffed in annoyance. He was a few inches taller than me and completely blocked my view. We didn’t have time to fumble around, so I gripped his broad shoulders and shoved him into one of the lockers beside me.

Without thinking, I stepped in after him.

I only realized what I’d done once the door closed with a snap. His wide caramel eyes found mine in the low lighting, several intense emotions swirling inside them. My hands slid away from his shoulders until they rested on his heaving chest. It was a tight fit, so there were only about two inches of space between us.

My bottom lip rolled between my teeth as my face exploded with heat. We hadn’t been this close since the almost kiss that I will never be speaking of out loud. His gaze moved down to my mouth and I swallowed, my heart jumping into my throat.

Fear shot down my spine at the sound of slow footsteps outside the locker, all flustered Stiles-related thoughts leaving my mind instantly.

We both held our breath as whoever it was walked right past us. One of his arms snaked around my back before pulling me against him gently. My eyes flickered up to his in question, but his attention was firmly planted on the room outside the locker. I realized with a flutter deep in my stomach that the protective motion had been mostly absentminded.

When the room fell silent I relaxed slightly, thinking we were in the clear, until our locker door was ripped open harshly. I stumbled out a step at the sudden loss of support at my back, Stiles tripping out after me. Scott bolted from his own locker, eyes wide with fear.

After a few seconds of unintelligible yelling, we realized it was just the overnight janitor. I let out a shaky sigh of relief and put a hand on my chest to calm my racing heart. That was so close.

“Wait, wait.” Stiles folded over and rested his hands on his knees as he tried to steady his breathing. “Be quiet!”

“Quiet my ass! What the hell are you trying to do, kill me?” The janitor yelled, clearly angry at our unauthorized presence. “All of you, get the hell out.”

He fisted both Stiles and Scott’s shirts and began pulling them toward the exit.

“Just listen for half a second, okay?” Stiles tried to reason with him, but he was pretty shaken up.

“Not okay! Get the hell out of here right now.” I followed close behind as he shoved them back out into the hallway, chewing on my lip nervously.

This was so not good. Now we’d all end up with detention for the rest of the year, or worse, if we didn’t die first.

“Just give us one second to explain—”

“Shut up and go!” He’d barely finished barking the order before he was violently yanked backwards.

I gasped in shock and took a huge step back, pulling the boys with me. The locker room door slammed shut, and the janitor was thrown against it, blood splattering against the small window all around him. He let out a pained scream and fought against whatever was attacking him.

Scott ran to the door and tried opening it, only to find that it was somehow locked. The janitor continued struggling for a few seconds before being pulled away again, a low growl sounding from the room. Stiles jerked forward and forced Scott away from the door before grabbing me with his free hand and bolting down the hall.

We didn’t stop running until we reached the closest exit, but quickly realized that one of the huge dumpsters outside had been pushed against it. So not only was the alpha a bloodthirsty monster, but it was smart enough to trap us. Awesome.

“I’m not dying here.” Stiles said shakily as we started walking down the hall to find another exit. “I’m not dying at school.”

“We’re not going to die.” Scott tried to reasure, not sounding all that confident himself.

“God, what is it doing? What does it want?” Stiles threw his hands up in exasperation, momentarily blinding me with his flashlight.

“Me! Derek said it’s stronger with a pack.”

“Great.” I scoffed, wrapping my arms tighter around myself as I walked between them. “A psychotic werewolf that’s into teamwork. That’s just beautiful.”

Scott suddenly stopped and looked out one of the windows beside us. His head tilted as he squinted into the night. He took a tentative step forward, as if trying to get a better view, but almost immediately jumped backward.

“What? What is it?” I breathed, a jolt of fear shooting through me at his reaction.

My eyes practically bulged out of my head as I caught sight of the alpha on the roof. It started barreling our way and we took off down the hall, the wall of windows shattering behind us. My heart was pounding painfully in my chest as I ran as fast as humanly possible. The sounds of the monster’s grunting and growling behind us made my stomach churn painfully.

We made our way down a flight of stairs, which took us into the boiler room. I put a hand over my mouth to silence my ragged breathing as we stood with our backs pressed tightly against a wall of lockers. I could still hear the alpha growling from around the corner and pinched my eyes shut tightly.

There was no way we weren’t about to die.

Scott silently gestured for us to move, so we quickly bolted around the corner toward an open area in the room.

“Alright, we have to do something.” Stiles jerked the flashlight in the direction of the growling.

“Like what?” I asked incredulously. What could any of us do? Even Scott, who has werewolf abilities, would be no match for this thing.

“I don’t know. Kill it? Hurt it? Inflict mental anguish on it? Something.” A sound from the other side of the room had Stiles twitching in fear, but he sighed and rubbed a hand down his face when he realized it was only the furnace kicking on.

We all tiptoed back past the lockers, terrified that the alpha could be anywhere. Stiles shined his flashlight across the room, and my anxiety skyrocketed as I realized that the exit was a good fifteen feet away. To make matters worse, another growl echoed through the space, and it sounded close. 

Stiles suddenly walked around to my other side and dug one of his hands into the pocket of his jacket that I was still wearing. My eyes followed his movements as he fished out his car keys and held them up, looking determined. He and Scott shared a quick glance before he chucked the keys through a nearby doorway. 

Instantly, the alpha charged forward from the shadows, going straight into the closet. The guys rushed toward the door before slamming it shut and dragging a random desk in front of it. I ended up standing on one side of the desk, with Scott and Stiles on the other. It slammed against the discarded cabinets on the other side of the narrow hall when the alpha tried getting out. 

Okay, that worked a little too well. 

It slammed once, twice, three more times.

Then, nothing. 

We all looked at each other in amazed silence. There was no way it was actually stuck. We’d done it? Just like that?

Stiles started leaning over the desk, toward the small window in the closet door, until Scott roughly slapped his shoulder. “What are you doing?!”

“I just want to get a look at it.” He put his hands up defensively. 

“Are you crazy?” I whispered, shocked that his first instinct wasn't to run far away. But Stiles was nothing if not curious. 

His eyes met mine over the desk. “Look, it’s trapped. Okay? It’s not gonna get out.”

While his confidence was slightly reassuring, I knew in my gut that it was too good to be true. There was no way catching this thing would be that easy. Stiles jumped up onto the desk, landing on his knees easily. He leaned forward, his tongue sweeping across his bottom lip in concentration. 

“Yeah, that's right.” He muttered, shining the flashlight into the makeshift cage. 

“Dude. Shut up!” Scott hissed desperately, still freaking out. 

“I’m not scared of this thing.” Stiles insisted with a glare, but frantically scrambled to the floor when a clawed hand slammed against the window.

Yeah. Liar. 

“Y/N, get across.” He breathed hastily. “Come on!”

I was about to do just that, one leg already propped up on the desk, when a few ceiling tiles in the closet came tumbling down. I froze, fear licking up my spine, and turned my head slowly to peer inside the small room. The tiles above me started denting, one by one, with every heave of my chest.

It was in the ceiling. 

The alpha was in the ceiling. 

“Y/N.” Scott pleaded, one hand outstretched toward me. His head was tilted up as he watched the alpha’s path. 

Metal and wood groaned above me from it’s added weight as it continued moving at an agonizingly slow pace. I held my breath in anticipation, my body beginning to tremble with terror.

Then, it broke through. I let out a startled scream at the sight of the alpha only a few feet away. It was on my side of the desk, staring right at me. I looked into its glowing red eyes and felt nothing but complete and utter dread. 

I was going to die. 

My mind could find no other alternative as the beast huffed and growled in place. 

“Y/N.” Stiles’ voice quivered from behind me. “You need to get over here. Right now.”

“I don't really think that's an option.” I muttered through clenched teeth, trying to be as still and quiet as possible. 

The alpha suddenly sprang forward, a hand clamping down on my shoulder at the same moment. I was pulled across the desk harshly, my feet barely landing on the floor before I was being yanked away. The three of us sprinted down the hall before ducking into a nearby classroom. Scott slammed the door behind us and I tried desperately to catch my breath. 

“Oh, thank God.” Stiles huffed from beside me, his tone seeping with relief. 

Before I knew what was happening, his hands were cradling either side of my face. He jerked me toward him gently and crashed his lips against mine. I stiffened in shock at the unexpected move and he took a step forward, causing my back to slam into the wall behind me. My eyes fluttered shut when his chest pressed against mine firmly as he closed every possible distance between us. 

My body responded with a mind of its own, my lips moving fluidly with his. My fingers came up to wrap around his wrists as his hands slid down to the sides of my neck. 

Then, just as quickly as it appeared, his skin was gone from mine. I leaned forward, not fully processing that he wasn't kissing me anymore. My eyes popped open and they locked onto his, which were wide with realization. 

Holy shit. 

Did that just happen?

Heat crawled up my neck. Stiles stammered silently, his eyes twitching. He suddenly walked to Scott’s side who, to be fair, looked equally as speechless about what he had just witnessed. Stiles put a hand around Scott’s head and gave him a big kiss on the cheek. 

“Th-thank God you’re okay. Both of you. Yeah. Just. Doing the totally normal thing where you kiss your friends after they almost die. Yep.”

“Totally.” Scott quipped, a smirk pulling at the side of his lips.

Before I could even begin to fathom an appropriate response, my phone started ringing loudly in my pocket. I hastily yanked it free and answered it without even looking at the caller I.D. I just needed the noise to stop. 

“Y/N, are you busy?” Any other time I would’ve been relieved to hear Allison’s voice, but not right now, while the alpha could be outside waiting to kill us.

“Uh.” I tried to steady my breathing so she wouldn't become suspicious. “Kinda.”

“What are you doing?” She sounded slightly scared herself, and I wondered the same thing. 

“Just...what’s up?” Scott and Stiles both glared at me and I put a hand up dismissively. 

“Um. Well. You know how I was supposed to see Scott tonight? He never showed. Then I got this strange text from him and now I’m at the school and—”

“You’re at the school?” I tried to keep the panic from my voice, but it was still easily detectable even to my own ears. 

“I know, I know. But Lydia and Jackson insisted—”

“They’re here too?” I practically shrieked. This could not be happening. 

I knew Scott was listening to the whole thing, because his eyes were growing wider and wider with each of Allison’s responses. 

“Wait. Did you say here? Are you at the school too?”

I just shook my head, needing this conversation to speed up exponentially. “Where are you right now?”

“On the first floor.” She said slowly, catching on that something was wrong. 

“Where? Where exactly?” I pressed, my voice growing urgent. 

“The swimming pools...?” She trailed off, clearly curious about my sudden pushiness. 

That wasn't far from here. We could probably make it to her quickly if we all met up somewhere in the middle. 

“Get to the lobby. You have to go now.” I tried to keep my voice down, still very aware that the alpha could be right outside the classroom door. 

She hesitated for a moment, and I worried she would ask more questions. We did not have time for that. “Okay, okay. I’m coming.”

We hung up and I let my arm fall down to my side slowly, my attention moving to the crestfallen expression on Scott’s face. I was pretty sure we were all thinking the same thing. 

This just got so, so much worse.

Episode 6       Episode 7, Part Two

[novoaa1writes]

“f**k you.”

pairing(s): mandy milkovich x reader

summary: you and mandy are friends with benefits, or... something. you tentatively discuss her pregnancy, and offer your help. mandy is... less than pleased. (contains spoilers for season 2 of shameless)

rating: mature

word count: ~1,400

warnings: unhealthy relationships, implied/referenced canonical child abuse, teen pregnancy, implied/referenced sex, swearing, brief discussion of abortion, minor blood, implied/referenced drug addiction, implied/referenced forced pregnancy

notes: reader is an adoptive gallagher, raised with them since childhood but unrelated by blood. also, the reader is not necessarily specified as female, but they do have b00bies. take that as you will. also available on ao3.

if you've seen shameless (U.S.), this is written very much in keeping with the fucked-up interpersonal dynamics that make up the entirety of the show. the reader's relationship with mandy isn't a healthy one, and the writing reflects that. i'd even say there's likely a solid argument to be made that the relationship between mandy and the reader is actually abusive in some aspects. please don't read if that's going to trigger you in any way.

✳ ✳ ✳ ✳ ✳ ✳

You’re lying in bed together, naked and glistening with sweat, when you finally dare to broach the topic. 

“So, uh…” you trail off, sitting yourself up with a grunt to reach for the pack of cigs and lighter strewn on the floor nearby. Mandy stares you down with an unreadable expression as you put one between your lips and— “Shit, sorry,” you apologize, tossing the joint aside. Smoking and pregnancy don’t mix. “That’s, um… Sorry.”

‘Cause sure, maybe you’re not the pregnant one here, and maybe you know for damn sure that your meth-head mom wasn’t sober when she had you kicking around in her tummy, but you figure refraining from smoking around Mandy when she can’t is the least you can do.  

Mandy sighs, props herself up on her elbows and gives you a knowing look. “Just ask,” she says. She sounds exhausted. 

You lean back into bed, hold yourself up with an elbow as you turn to face her. “Pregnant, huh?”

“Ian told you.” 

“Your dad, actually,” you correct her, then instantly regret it when you see something like fear flicker through her gaze. “Ian’s fine, though.”

“No, he’s not.” Mandy huffs out a sigh, hanging her head back, eyelids fluttering shut. An errant thought comes—that you’ve never seen her look so defeated or beautiful: naked in bed after rounds of desperate sex, bedsheets sagging low on her slender hips, pert breasts rising and falling with every measured breath. You’re quick to do away with it. “My dad’s gonna kill him.”

You shrug. “Lip and I’ve been doing some brainstorming. We’ll figure it out.”

If Mandy hears you at all, she doesn’t let on. “I tried to tell him,” she murmurs, eyes still shut. “He didn’t listen.”

“Who, Ian?”

Mandy gives the slightest shake of her head. “My dad.”

“Well, I mean… We know it can’t be Ian’s, but you had that thing with Lip, right? What if it’s his?” You feel a little uncomfortable bringing it up, having grown up alongside him since you were little. Lip, Ian, Carl, Debby, Liam… they’re your siblings in everything but name. 

“It’s not.” Mandy collapses back down onto the mattress with a huff. 

“Oh,” you say. You don’t ask, ‘Then whose is it?’—even though you kind of want to.

“My dad… he drinks a lot,” Mandy mumbles after a long moment. Her eyes flutter open, but she isn’t looking at you. She’s staring straight up at the ceiling—through it, even, like it isn’t even there. Like she isn’t there. “Mistakes me for Mom.”

Every muscle in your body goes tense as nausea churns in your gut. “Your dad…” you repeat, swallowing down bile. 

Mandy slants a look over to you, dead-eyed and emotionless. “It’s not a big deal,” she tells you, a cold edge to her tone. “Stop fuckin’ looking at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like you’re pitying me.”

It takes everything in you not to glance away from her, run down the hall to the bathroom and puke your guts out in the toilet. “What do you want to do?” 

Mandy shifts her gaze back to the ceiling. “You got $600 lying around?” 

For a split second, you’re confused. Why $600— 

And then it hits you. An abortion at the clinic. 

You shake your head. “No, I don’t.”

Mandy nods, eyes watering, a sardonic smile tugging at her lips. “Thought so.”

You bite the inside of your cheek hard until you taste blood, thoughts racing. A second later, you’re surging upright, stumbling to your feet. 

“The hell are you doing?” Mandy asks, sounding caught somewhere between bone-tired and just plain irritated. 

You snatch up your jeans, feel around for the flip phone you had in your back pocke—

There it is. 

You flip it open, scroll through the handful of contacts until you reach Kev. 

Phone against your ear, you chance a look back at Mandy. She’s got a murderous look in her eye. You figure you’ve got about two minutes before she starts chucking anything and everything within reach your way. 

Please, Kev, pick up. 

Two rings on the other end, then—

“Go for Kev.”

Thank fuck. 

“Hey, Kev,” you say, beginning to pace. You’re buck-ass naked, and Mandy’s watching you like a hawk (a very angry hawk, granted), but you don’t really have it in you to be self-conscious about it for the moment. “You think I can rent out the Alibi for tomorrow night, do a, uh… fund-raiser type thing?”

“What? Who’s dying?”

You roll your eyes. “No one’s dying, Kev. I just need to raise $600 bucks. It can be a… bake-sale, or some shit. Put a couple other random things up for sale, too. Grammy’s gun, some of Monica’s old clothes… All goes well, we make enough to cover renting the bar for the night and then some.”

Mandy’s gaze turns from murderous to calculating as she watches you, though you know better than to think that means you’re in the clear with her. 

It’s quiet on the other end for a beat, then two. Eventually, “Tomorrow night?” he repeats. 

You nod, biting your lip. “Tomorrow night. I’ll get everyone off their ass to start baking tonight. Debby can make some fliers, spread the word. It’ll be a full house. Please, Kev.”

He heaves a sigh, and you know you have him. “Alright,” he agrees. “Drop by later today, we’ll work out the details, yeah?”

“Yeah, yeah, ‘course, I’ll be there,” you agree earnestly, grinning from ear-to-ear. “Thank you, Kev. You’re the best.”

“Don’t I know it. See you soon. Bye.”

“Bye.”

You’ve only just shut the phone and clutched it to your bare chest, wearing a stupidly proud grin, when—

SMACK!

Pain explodes across your left cheek, whipping your entire head to one side. 

“Fuck!” you curse, looking up to see a fuming Mandy standing before you, bloodshot green eyes alight with mutiny. “The hell was that for?”

Mandy just glares, seething silently. 

“What?” you ask, pins and needles dancing along your cheek. 

It’s quiet for a beat. 

Then Mandy’s surging forward, crashing her lips into yours in a bruising kiss, all tongue and teeth and wet warmth. 

Oh.

You’re frozen in shock for a second or two, your mind still kind of stuck on the part where she slapped you, but a warning growl against your mouth has you instinctively parting your lips and ceding Mandy’s unspoken request, reciprocating with fervor. 

A strangled groan works its way up your throat and she swallows it with ease, fingers snaking into your hair, yanking until you whine. 

You toss the phone somewhere off to the side, hear it land with clatter. You really couldn’t care less. 

Your hands fall to her naked hips and you pull her flush against your body—chest to chest, hip to hip. Mandy whines with approval as you snake an arm around her waist, pulling her impossibly closer like it’s not enough to have her breasts mashed against your own, her heartbeat thrumming along your skin. 

You want more; no, you need more. 

She’s a whirlwind—destructive, turbulent, beautiful in her fury. Your free hand creeps down to lift her thigh, guiding it to curl around your torso even as she devours you, bites at your lower lip hard enough to make it bleed. 

“Fuck you,” she gasps between violent kisses, breathless and angry. “You fucking idiot.”

“Kiss me again,” you say, and she does—gripping a hand around your throat and crashing her lips into yours, one hand still tugging relentlessly at a fistful of your tousled hair. The stinging sensation brings tears to your eyes. 

“Don’t need your help. Don’t need anyone’s help.” She pulls away panting, only to lick up the blood that’s started dribbling down your chin before kissing you again with just as much fierceness and hostility as before. 

Your cheek aches, your lip stings, your lungs burn from lack of oxygen. All you can taste is coppery blood and stale cigarettes and Mandy, Mandy, Mandy. 

She’s never been this rough with you before. Then again, she’s never been this pissed off at you before.

You decide you should piss her off a lot more often. (Especially if this is how it’s gonna be when you do.)

✳ ✳ ✳ ✳ ✳ ✳

end notes: do i realize mandy milkovich is problematic and kind of insane? yes. am i still lowkey in love with her? double yes. 

link to masterlist

[lassieposting]

Vile/Mevolent for the last ship ask? 😘

Who starts most fights?

At the start of their relationship, it's Vile like a solid 70% of the time - he's got a hair-trigger temper and it's practically impossible to tell what will set him off. That's one of the things Mevolent initially finds exciting - Vile is unpredictable, and the sporadic explosions of temper keep things interesting.

After a few hundred years, though, he's more than used to Vile's tells, and at that point it's more likely to be Mevolent noticing the prickly atmosphere and the general spikiness and the agitated shadows and being like, "Good gods, what, I can feel you sulking from here."

Who surrenders at the end of most fights?

If it's a physical fight, it varies. One of the first things Mevolent liked about Vile, one of the first things they bonded over, is that he's strong enough to take Mev in single combat. It's incredibly refreshing to have a sparring partner who's a) a challenge and b) not afraid to try and fucking end you. A lot of their fights get worked out physically, so it's really a toss of the dice as to who comes out on top - who's having a bad day, who's got a healing injury, who's more upset or distracted.

Who is more likely to cry during a fight?

Neither of them are really upset/frustrated criers. They don't? Really cry at all, tbh, unless they're injured and like, can't help it.

Who is more likely to storm out during a fight?

Mevolent, when he's not in the mood to physically fight it out. Usually accompanied by an air-assisted door slam and an "I can't stand you sometimes," or an "I can't deal with you when you're like this."

Who is louder in fights?

Mevolent. Vile's stutter comes back under stress, so if anything he shuts down during arguments and mostly expresses anger through his magic - sharp shadows, power surges, throwing furniture, that kind of thing.

Who is more likely to throw things in fights?

Vile. Both of them will throw things in a fight, but Vile is also more likely to just. Demolish rooms to get the anger out.

Who is more likely to bring up past mistakes?

Vile, to devastating effect, but it's rare. Ultimately, this is his trump card when Mevolent gets frustrated over how unreasonable he's being or how the latest explosion came out of nowhere. You signed my death warrant, you let him torture me, you're the reason I'm like this. It's a sore subject for both of them, and even Vile - who's notoriously temperamental - only really uses this as a last resort, when he feels cornered.

Who is more likely to give the silent treatment?

God, lbh, if both of them were into giving the silent treatment they'd fight once and never speak again. Vile is practically a selective mute. Mevolent can Silent Treatment so effectively he can tune out Skulduggery infodumping for eight hours straight. But they're not really the couple who drags fights out - they build up, they explode, and very quickly they go back to normal.

Who is more likely to blame the other?

Both of them, outwardly. They're both traumatized wrecks with bad childhoods who never really mastered healthy communication, and when they're confronted with conflict, they lash out at whoever they're fighting with. They'll both be furious at the other one for starting shit until they've calmed down.

Who is more likely to blame themselves?

Both of them, inwardly. Mevolent has some weird not-quite-guilt going on around being the one who ordered Skulduggery's death - he doesn't regret it, because it was the smart move for his ultimate goal and he has no attachment to Skulduggery Pleasant. He's even happy he did it, because if he hadn't, Vile wouldn't exist. But he does care for Vile, and he doesn't enjoy seeing him hurt, and this does hurt him. He still has nightmares about the torture, still vividly remembers being burned alive, and there's nothing Mevolent can do to change it, and that bugs him.

On Vile's side, he doesn't really understand why he is the way he is and he 100% blames himself for being like that. He doesn't understand why his temper is so explosive and unpredictable, he doesn't understand why sometimes he just has to fight someone, anyone, no matter who it is, because he feels like he'll burn up from the inside if he doesn't. He knows he used to be better at hiding how angry he is all the time, he knows he used to be able to compartmentalise better, he knows that a lot of the time he's not really angry at Mevolent specifically, he's just lashing out at whoever's closest. He's a breathing, walking ball of trauma - a psychiatrist would have a field day with him - but he doesn't know what's going on, only that there's something wrong with him that he doesn't know how to fix.

Who gets jealous more easily?

At the beginning, it's Mevolent for sure - he's a man who always wants the shiny new toy, and someone as powerful and vicious as Vile is a toy he doesn't want anyone else to get to play with. He knows Vile isn't interested in the religious aspect of his cause, he knows he's a heathen - so he puts a lot of effort at first into like, almost courting him to make sure he's invested enough not to defect to someone else's army - the Sanctuary could win the war with him, the Necromancers could re-enter the fray and become a real threat with him at the helm. It's in Mev's best interests to make sure Vile doesn't want to leave, and he hates the idea of someone taking his new toy away.

After they catch Feelings, though, it's Vile. He's clawed back a tiny little bit of happiness and nobody is gonna touch it this time. He's incredibly territorial, and he's the type to kill first and ask questions later.

Who is angered more easily?

Vile. Mevolent is, for an insane genocidal warlord who worships eldritch evil gods, actually pretty chilled out and reasonable. It's one of the reasons he's so good with Vile in the first place - Vile picks up on the negative emotions of people around him, like all Necromancers, and because he's so powerful, he's very sensitive to little shifts in the level of emotions that appeal to his magic - fear, anger, etc - and they fuck with his mood. Mevolent isn't afraid of him, and he doesn't get angry easily, so Vile himself is actually a lot calmer around him.

Who is more likely to break off the relationship?

They both think it's the other. As far as Mevolent is concerned, he needs Vile more than Vile needs him. Vile is his not-so-secret weapon, the living, breathing nuclear bomb who's winning him the war. He was losing before Vile came to his side, and he's smart enough to know that if Vile ever got it in his head to walk away and go back to being Skulduggery Pleasant, he'd probably start losing again.

From Vile's side, he hates himself. He doesn't see himself as loveable or worth fighting for. He goes after the competition mercilessly because he's terrified of someone better coming along - someone less scarred and less difficult or more powerful - and Mev losing interest to go after the New Thing. He doesn't really understand why Mev is fond of him in the first place, only that he wants to keep it that way.

Who is more likely to threaten to leave?

It's less Vile threatening to leave and more Mevolent calling his bluff. Like, oh, well, if you hate being around me so much, I could recall Vengeous and send you to fight the insurgents in Tanzania for a few years, how about that? Or you could go home? Go ahead, go back to whatever's left of your friends.

Vile hasn't left yet. And Mev never really wants him to.

Who is more likely to actually leave?

Vile. The palace is Mevolent's, the city is Mevolent's, Vile even moved into Mevolent's quarters rather than the other way around. Mev isn't going to be the one moving out if they have a row. He lived here first, damn it.

Who is more likely to forget the other first?

Probably Vile by virtue of being capable of a whole new level of repression. It's how he deals with a lot of his trauma. He doesn't, for example, remember much about Skulduggery's family. He remembers they existed, he remembers that at some point he was that person who cared about them, maybe as much as he cares about Mevolent. But if you asked him to describe them, or what Skulduggery loved about them, or the last thing they said to him, he wouldn't be able to remember. Likewise, he's blotted out a lot of the details of the three days he spent with Serpine because they're just? Too much. He can't handle that and also be with Mevolent. It's a mess. So if a breakup was traumatic enough, he'd probably protect himself the same way.

[talesofsonicasura]

Fallen Royalty

*warning: contains vivid curses and slight gore*

Trust is a very fragile thing. It can easily be shattered by misdirection, lies but the most devastating were secrets. And something very important is kept from someone by those they consider family, it can make a soul fall unto a very different path.

The Snatcher, a legendary and powerful spirit who ruled the Fallen Kingdom known as Subcon. He used to be a human prince married to a princess of a different kingdom named Vanessa. Before the prince and Vanessa lived happily ruling their kingdom but this wasn't a happy story. A misunderstanding had brought out a dark side within the princess. Her love unknown to the prince was actually toxic.

Anything that stood in her way of the prince had met brutal ends. Not even the young man himself wasn't safe. He purchased flowers for his sweetheart only to be accused of cheating by the insane princess now Queen. She locked the prince in the dungeon and unleashed dark magic all over Subcon freezing the land solid. The residents were cursed to live as spirits and the dark magic gave birth to the Snatcher from what was left of Subcon's prince.

Snatcher reigned over his fallen domain that became consumed by the forest around it. His magic kept Vanessa's frost contained in her castle and locked the witch away. Through his magic, the cursed citizens were given new bodies in the form of wooden puppets Snatcher crafted. Subcon Forest was created and its denizens lived in peaceful solitude. Then came the Demon King Satan.

Subcon brewed with so much magic that powerful demons sought it out. Demons dwelled in Gehenna and could only reach Assiah, the realm of man, through possessing an item there. However Subcon Forest's powerful magic could grant demons easy access to Assiah by harvesting its mystical energy. Something Satan wanted and wished to discuss with Snatcher himself. The discussion didn't turn out good for Satan.

The powerful specter had immediately been ready to refuse the Demon King access to Subcon's magic. Even though Snatcher hated outsiders, he understood the balance between their worlds and saw Satan as a threat! Being devious, Snatcher had the Demon King signed a contract. Before realizing what it read, Satan had already signed the paper. The demon began screaming in pain unaware of his own folly.

Snatcher could create powerful magical contracts that become true once signed. He had tricked Satan into hurting himself and his schemes greatly. The first was Satan could never possess any nonhuman for his power will burn it to ashes and humans will die from his possession. Second was the Demon Lord couldn't touch or set foot in Subcon for eternity and neither could his servants. And finally, a chunk of Satan's power became Snatcher's own along with a particular possession the Demon King would acquire in the future.

Satan cursed Snatcher before being banished back to Gehenna while the King of Subcon laughed. Though the spirit knew it wouldn't be the last time he'll see the demon or his schemes. The ghost didn't know what this key possession the Demon King would seek but he had enough time to prepare so he could eliminate it. However, he didn't suspect this.

A small boy ran through the busy crowd of Kyoto, Japan. He had dark blue hair and the brightest blue eyes leaking tears down his cheeks staining his white shirt and black shorts. His name was Rin Okumura and today wasn't a good day. The boy knew he was always different from everyone else. He was much stronger than what a 7 year old should be also he was more aggressive and easy to lash out at those who anger him.

People from kids to adults would look at him like a monster and call him a demon. He thought he could trust his foster father Shiro Fujimoto and his twin brother Yukio but clearly it was a lie. Rin had come back home a bit earlier than he usually did to see his Father and brother talking. What he heard broke his heart. Demons were real, Fujimoto and Yukio were exorcists that killed demons and Rin…was the bastard son of the Demon King Satan.

Rin had Satan's flames and they were sealed in a sword along with half of his soul, his demon half. Yukio being trained to kill demons by Shiro himself. His mother killed by exorcists the day they were born. A whole basket of lies and secrets hidden under his nose. It didn't take long for Rin to slip out of the monastery that served as home his whole life and run away. The boy didn't care where he was going but he had to get away.

Tears blinded his sight and sorrow messing with his rationality, Rin ran into the woods specifically a section banned from the public. A part of the forest where people disappeared and never came back, the Snatching Woods. After a few minutes of nonstop running, Rin sat on the ground and cried. He didn't notice how the forest around him had transformed into something otherworldly.

Glowing mushrooms of yellow, pink and red shining in a garden around him, a large picket fence with spikes lit in flame, a large marsh like pool surrounded by pumpkins, wisps of blue, green and orange floated about and finally the large tower shaped mushroom house that the boy currently sat on the front doorstep. Something large and dark purple began to slither through the home, no doubt searching for the crying source.

The dark purple thing was a large ghost. He had a noodle like body with thin arms each carrying two large claws, a mane of fluffy fur around his head, bright yellow childish looking eyes and a jack o' lantern smile with two small fangs. The towering ghost looked at the small crying child in utter confusion. "Hey kiddo? How the peck did you get all the way here?" The ghost questioned with his raspy and light static echoing voice.

Rin looked up from crying to see the ghost hovering above his head. "I don't know and I don't care! Rather die lost in a forest than live a lie." Rin cried. That clearly got the ghost's unwanted attention. "Why the peck do you want to die because of a lie? What kind of lie would get a kid this depressed?" The ghost asked as Rin looked back at the spirit. He definitely had to know the kid's story.

"I lived in a monastery with my twin brother since I could remember. I never knew that Father Fujimoto and my brother were keeping secrets from me. I walked in to hear their conversation about me. Demons are real and evil. Father Fujimoto teaching my brother to be an exorcist and...I'm the bastard son of Satan! My mother was killed because of it and I learned half of my soul was stripped out then sealed away." Silence carried through the woods once Rin spoke that last sentence.

The ghost figured Satan would find a new way into Assiah but...this was going too far even for him. And he was Snatcher, a spirit that ate unlucky souls and toss their husks away like a banana peel! However, he would never use his own child, even though he didn't have one, for a sick game like this. A particular girl and a purple hat flashed through his mind. He was going to regret this but he didn't care. No way in hell was this kid going to suffer from his bastard old man.

"Then to hell with them!" Snatcher exclaimed grabbing the boy's attention. "Kid, I ain't a good person but even I know common sense. Just because you are the son of an idiotic peckneck demon doesn't make you him! The fact that your own foster father not only kept important information like this from you but now your brother is wrapped around his finger. Not all demons are evil. Some of us are mischievous or just want to be left alone." The ghost began.

"You have the right to know your origin and your own mother. Plus, that peckneck doesn't know the damage he has done sealing half your soul away! Your power even though suppressed is unstable without your demon half. It messes with your mind making you aggressive as it fights to the surface. You are a walking infernal bomb capable of wiping out half the continent and yourself by reaching a major mental meltdown! You are a person, a child for pecking sake! YOU ARE NOT SATAN!!!" Snatcher exclaimed voice roaring with irritation at the cause of the boy's misery.

Rin stood shellshocked at what he witnessed. Other than Father Fujimoto and his brother, no one ever helped or cared about him. To see a ghost he just met get so angry at his mistreatment made the pain in his heart fade. "Thank you." Rin said as Snatcher looked at the boy. "Boy, what's your name?" Snatcher asked as Rin wiped his tears. "Rin Okumura." The boy replied. "Rin Okumura? You can call me Snatcher, boy. How would you like to stay with me in Subcon Forest?" Snatcher asked as Rin had a look of surprise.

"You aren't safe staying with an exorcist who sees you only as the Son of Satan and potential threat but also filling your brother's head with half baked truths. That kind of person can turn your own sibling into your potential murderer even as an unwanted consequence. I can teach you how to forge your own path and control the power within you. You see, I met your blood father and suckered him into giving up part of his power and any potential of escaping Gehenna." Snatcher explained conjuring a ball of blue flame in his hand.

"Pretty." Rin said looking at the glowing blue flame. "This pretty flame can also be used to craft some powerful spells as well. Along with fixing your unstable power, I'll be teaching you magic and the ways of Subcon. This place will be your safe haven and no secrets will be kept from you here. A clone crafted from my magic will take your place so no one will suspect a thing. What do you say kiddo? Want to live with me in Subcon Forest?" Snatcher asked offering the boy his hand.

Rin looked at the hand and remembered all the years living with Father Fujimoto and his twin brother. What glittered gold slowly rotted away to faded gold paint old wood. The boy reached his hand towards Snatcher's and took it. The deal was struck as blue light surged throughout Subcon forest. Many unaware of the single act that sent ripples throughout the world and it's future. 9 years later…

A 16 year old Rin Okumura was being attacked in the home of True Cross Monastery. A powerful demon hunting him had attacked the boy out in public forcing to realize he wasn't normal or human. Father Fujimoto had taken him back to the momastery fending off hordes of undead demons coming after them. However, one demon possessing a teenager had crashed a truck into the monastery giving it and other demons easy access to the sanctuary.

Rotten dogs, growing demonic fungi and any other unholy creature bridled with maggots, rot and decayed flesh were creeping towards the young man, head priest and his follow exorcists. Father Fujimoto faced Rin who wielded a blue scabbard sword in hand. Running a hand through his short gray hair and dark eyes was prepared to shove Rin into the hidden basement for safety only for the boy to push him down.

"Rin! What's the meaning of this?! You have to run!" The man shouted only to be confused when the boy began chuckling. "Why should I listen to the words of a liar? I'll handle these pecknecks myself." Rin spoke earning confusion from Fujimoto and the monastery men. "Pecknecks? What kind of insult is that?!" The possessed boy laughed only to jump back as a burst of blue flames erupted from under him.

"If I knew you guys were going to attack me earlier than I would have put on my best clothes already! Oh well! A quick costume change won't hurt. Ain Soph Aur!" Rin said before snapping his fingers. He ignited into blue flames to the group's horror and absolute confusion before it died down. The young man was completely changed from head to toe. His suit was replaced with a dark violet long coat with azure flame, a dark blue tunic bearing a peculiar symbol that looked like a spirit surrounding a burning tree, black tights often seem worn by royalty, fancy black Italian shoes, white gloves and a violet top hat with a yellow ribbon.

His ears were pointed as he had small vampirish like fangs and hints of yellow in his blue eyes. He was also much taller having 5 inches more than Fujimoto's 6'5 height. In his hand was a long dark blue umbrella with dark violet flame like flares on the fabric and a yellow handle. The air Rin now carried was of royal but very ominous and eerie compared to his cheerful street punk one. "Rin?" Fujimoto questioned.

He was caught off guard by Rin's sudden change but the boy merely ignored. "I'm giving you demons a chance to leave with your souls intact. I can't guarantee you'll even survive the trip to Gehenna if I slay you instead of the exorcists." Rin said with a wicked glint in his eyes despite his jovial smile. "You think we are afraid of your clothes change and a dumb umbrella? Sorry brat but you're going back to Gehenna to your father Satan!" The possessed boy laughed only to suddenly flinch.

The air was flooding with instant killing intent that leaked from Rin as he looked at the demons with a disturbing malice filled smile. "I gave you a chance but you spat on it. Prepare to die because your contract has just expired!" The young man laughed as his voice sounded distorted saying the last few words. Rin suddenly vanished from sight only for a group of demonic fungus to explode in blue flames!

Rin burst out from the burning blue mass almost as if he teleported from underneath them. He faced his umbrella at the demons he hovered above as blue flame spheres manifested at the tip before firing them like a gun. Multiple ghoulish corpses and vile living fungus ignited which crashing sphere burning in pure anguish. The horrifying part to the child possessing demon was the flames were actually destroying the demons instead of sending them back to Gehenna!

Demons possessing objects or people couldn't die in Assiah since their real bodies existed in Gehenna but Rin's fire was burning both through their souls! The chilling part was Rin was singing with the carnage. "Run along this forest trail. Now you'll find you'll failed. Never gonna reach that goal, now give me your soul! Some advice, don't think twice! Should have known I wasn't nice! Off with your head! Tata, your dead!" The boy sang as he continued his carnage. However the next few lines was when the demon truly realized that initiated a fight with someone that Satan himself couldn't win against.

"Got no more use for you! When you sign that dotted line you should've thought it through! Your subconscious holding on clinging to your fear. Every haunt just moved along but now the SNATCHER'S HERE!!!" The demon's face along with Fujimoto's grew dramatically pale. "You?!! You know the Snatcher?!" The demon questioned shivering in terror within his host's body. Rin merely laughed at the demon's frightened words.

"Know him? More than just that little peckneck! He's my true father! Not your dumbass king or this lying priest bastard that kept so many secrets from me! He treated me like his own son and taught me all I know. He was honest with me and actually gave a crap about me for being myself, Rin Okumura, not Satan's bastard son!" Rin roared as Fujimoto looked a bit hurt. "And don't think Satan will pop up here either. My father's magic will immediately expel him upon possession. It was listed in the contract the Demon King was tricked into signing." That had gotten the demon to literally piss itself in its host body.

"Enough talk! Time for the finish!" The young man shouted as he began waving his umbrella and danced as if he was on Broadway. "And the weird and the wild should have left you all beguiled. That is that, you little bastard child. Rid my jobs that took time and bask! Now it's time to take you to task!" A ring of blue flames surrounded the remaining demons preventing any chance of escape.

"As the ink is slowly drying, it's time you get dying! Your contract has expired, sleep now in the fire! You gonna meet your match! Your soul belongs to Snatcher! Now let's sing higher!" The flaming ring grew smaller as the flames burned brighter and more intense. It was so bright that Rin's face was shadowed revealing a terrifying jack o' lantern eyes and mouth smiling at the torture.

"AND THE WEIRD AND THE WILD SHOULD'VE LEFT YOU ALL BEGUILED. THAT IS THAT, YOU LITTLE BASTARD CHILD. RIP MY JOBS THAT TOOK TIME AND BASK! NOW IT'S TIME TO TAKE YOU TO TASK. THE INK IS SLOWLY DRYING AND IT'S TIME THAT YOU GET DYING! YOUR CONTRACT HAS EXPIRED! SLEEP NOW IN THE FIRE! YOU HAVE MET YOUR MATCH! FOR YOUR SOUL BELONGS TO SNATCHER! BURN TO ASH IN MY MELODIC BONFIRE!!" With those last lines, the ring of fire exploded into a large burning blaze.

Every demon and their host burned away until their screams became silent and bodies turn to ash. The young man snapped his fingers as the blazing blue flames extinguish themselves before Rin glared down at Father Fujimoto. "Rin…" Fujimoto spoke only for Rin to interrupt him. "Don't say a word. I learned about the truth coming home 9 years ago. I watched you through a clone crafted by my father's magic and gave you multiple chances to tell the truth." The boy started.

"Did you know that sealing my soul's demon half made my power so unstable that I was a walking timebomb? Not only did you kept secrets and lie to me but you put everyone in danger. You didn't see as a child or son but a potential threat because of my damned sperm donor. If you did, you would have told me and trained me to be an exorcist than just Yukio. I wanted to die that day but Snatcher saved me from potentially killing myself." Fujimoto flinched and looked truly hurt once realizing what he had done.

"I won't kill you or get revenge for keeping secrets because you spared my life instead of killing me or my brother on the spot when we were babies. However, you, Yukio and everyone in this room are no longer my family. A true family would see me for me, not some bastard son of Satan or a potential threat. And if you go after me, I won't protect you from the full might of the Subcon Kingdom! You have been warned." Rin explained as he took the sword that contained his power before stuffing it in his hat like a magician.

"Rin! Please don't go! I'm sorry! It was for your own good!" Fujimoto cried out but Rin merely ignored him. "Goodbye Shiro Fujimoto." And with those last words, Rin Okumura disappeared in a flash of blue fire. Shiro Fujimoto fell to the floor and weeped. Secrets were a dangerous thing and he didn't listen to his friend's warning. The price he paid was his own son's trust now in the hands of the infamous Snatcher. Yukio came home to his weeping father and the approaching pike of mistrust that crucified his father's heart. It wasn't anyone's day at the True Cross Monastery.

And that's it! This was written last year so if the writing style looks different then that's why. Blue Exorcist was one of the first Mature mangas I ever bought, I got Volumes One to Three.

And honestly, I feel really bad for Rin. His brother tried to kill him, his foster father kept TONS of secrets, his friends immediately turned on him for his heritage despite him saving their asses and trying to regain their trust, or just being marked as a target for existing. I mean WTF?!

Poor boy needs better friends and a hug because I don't think Kuro or Ukobach(from the anime) could help for so long. This was also one of my early attempts into writing Snatcher before I got the game myself.

I did watch someone play it quite a few times but limited my experiences to the first three end chapter bosses and Snatcher's area being Subcon Forest. This was something I usually do before deciding to buy a game.

Snatcher honestly felt perfect for this especially taking the dad role. When you take his experiences in the ghost's past life to now, betrayal and mistrust are two big factors.

Even if Snatcher is an antagonist character, he does have some morals and personality than just the common soul eating specter with a grudge. This also takes place after the events in a Hat In Time.

And yes. Rin was singing 'Your Contract Has Expired' cover by Man On The Internet although the last bit was abridged on purpose. If this Rin had a theme, it would be the Phase Two Version theme of Your Contract Has Expired.

Anyways, until next time folks! Smell ya later.

This is an Phase Two Version of Man on the Internet's Your Contract Has Expired, done by Ben Newsome. Please read the description because they cited this song belongs to their original owner and not stole it. Poor guy doesn't need anymore accusations involving copyright.

[aiorevelations]

A Number, Not a Name: Part 18

Enjoy everyone!

4 months earlier:

Regis scanned the fragment of paper spread out across the table before him. Not even a month ago he was a desperate man chasing the shadows of his lifelong mentor. What he’d found in the jungles of South America had been nothing short of a profound revelation. The ancient words inscribed held the key to changing humanity. From the very beginning, he had believed deep within his soul that what Professor M spoke of was true. He couldn’t explain it. He just knew it. Though he’d never have suspected that the place which possessed what he sought was merely some speck on a map. A hamlet of small-town America. In the end, though the where didn’t matter. What mattered was that he attained his goal. Failure was his greatest fear. After what he’d sacrificed to get this far he wasn’t about to fall short an inch away from the finish line. Like Professor M had. When he stumbled upon he’d found a broken sickly old man barely clinging onto life. Filled with regret and sorrow that though he literally held in his hand the culmination of his life’s work, he would never live to see it. Regis had vowed that would not be his fate.

Fate, however, was a funny thing. Previously Dr. Blackgaard had possessed adequate resources yet lacked the knowledge he required. Now just when he had attained the necessary knowledge his funds were depleted. Alas Professor M had died, weighed down in debt, and without any assets to further fund Regis’ research. Dr. Blackgaard was one to keep his research away from prying eyes. The last thing he wanted was to inform anyone of his discovery. Who knows what might happen. Word could spread to the general public if that happened it was game over. Blackgaard was well aware however that the little venture he was starting in Chicago wouldn’t provide him with the funds he needed. The choice was before him. Either choose not to share his work and lose any chance of funding or take the chance and inform potential investors of his findings. When put that way there was only one option - the latter. “Blast” he muttered under his breath.

He rolled up the parchment and stood up from his chair, grasping his walking stick as he sat up. Pacing back and forth on the wooden floor he tried thinking of someone who would work as a potential investor. Blackgaard’s mind raced. Too many people had their motives and agendas they were trying to serve. The last thing he wanted to be was someone’s puppet. He’d rather give up his work altogether than be a pawn in someone else’s game. It has to be someone who has enough resources yet can be easily fooled. Someone obsessed with power and ambition that they’d do anything to obtain it - even trust a complete stranger. A person who is so full of themselves they’d never think anyone could bring them down. Sasha meowed, interrupting Blackgaard’s thoughts. He stooped down and picked up his faithful feline companion. Softly, he stroked her neck and behind her ears, prompting a deep purr from Sasha. “Oh, Sasha…Now, who do we know who’d be aware of someone like that.” 

Blackgaard had a long list of reliable contacts. Men and women spread across the globe. People who were aware of plots and schemes of power and the people behind them. Blackgaard’s polished shoes thudded on the packed earth as he circled the jungle cabin, left exactly as it had been when Professor M died. Professor M’s research notes and documents were packed carefully in boxes that were neatly stacked. His personal effects and clothes were strewn throughout the room. 

Regis placed Sasha down on the floor and walked to where Professor M’s trunk was located in the corner of the small hut. He opened the lid and searched through it until he found a notebook. He scanned over the pages looking for a particular name. An old contact of theirs who Professor M had known even before he met his esteemed mentor. They had come to value her greatly. Every secret or scheme going on she always found a way to find out. Finally, Regis' eyes landed on the name he was searching for. Blackgaard knew she was the answer. 

…..

4 months earlier:

Liana stared blankly ahead. She was busy pouring coffee yet her mind was somewhere else. Today would have been Erik’s birthday. She tried to push it to the side and carry on waitressing, but the memories would come flooding back. Picnics in the park. Splashing each other in the lake. The way he’d shower her with flowers and chocolates on Valentine’s Day. 

Liana had known she’d never be able to have peace until her father and all those responsible answered for their actions, but she at least thought with time she’d be able to have a sense of healing. Instead, the more time passed the more angry she became. She should be spending these years with Erik. If he was here she was certain they’d have been married by now probably with children. Living a happy and beautiful life. She’d been robbed of that life and forced to live a cold and lonely one. 

“Liana!”  Hearing her name, she snapped out of her thoughts.

“Uh sorry. Millie. What is it?”

“You’re pouring coffee all over the counter.” Liana glanced down and saw she’d overfilled the coffee cup, causing the liquid to flow all over the countertop. 

“Oh, I’m so sorry.” She set the decanter down and grabbed some napkins from the dispenser.

“Are you okay? You’ve seemed distracted all morning.” 

She wiped up the spilled coffee. “I’m fine.” Liana picked up the coffee cup and walked to a table by the shop window. 

She set the piping hot coffee on the table. “Here you are, sir.”

“Thanks so much” the man graciously responded.

“Would you like anything else?”

“No, this is good for me. Thanks.”

“Of course. If you need anything please let me know.” She forced a smile and began to walk to another table where two women were waiting to order. Halfway to the table, she stopped. Her eyes were drawn to the television mounted in the corner of the room. An image of a man’s face caught her eye. His familiar features, grey hair, wrinkled skin, piercing black eyes, matched the image she’d seen in person on multiple occasions. One of the faces seared into her head for the last nearly five years. There was no mistake, the man was none other than Davit Dalmar. Below his image was the headline “Breaking News: Davit Dalmar, CEO and founder of Dalmar Petroleum, announces run for Krudian parliament.”

Liana found herself chilled to the core seeing his face. It took her back, back to that night. The worst night of life. She holding her dying boyfriend in her arms, knowing there was nothing she or anyone else could do. She bit back her lip and took a deep breath. No, she wouldn’t break down, especially in a Budapest cafe. 

What was that expression? The past has a way of catching up to you. She’d always planned to go back. To go home. Deep down she knew what she had to do. That pain. That anger. That overwhelming feeling of loss. It was still there. Burning in her soul stronger than ever.  She knew she’d never be able to move forward unless she went backward. Nevertheless, when it came to confronting her past she’d find herself paralyzed. Unable to go back. Memories of Krudia, her father, Eric haunted her. Every street or shop in Bulin came with some painful reminder. The very thought of stepping off the airplane filled with her dread and terror.

But now seeing Dalmar had served to remind her of the men she’d left behind. And of what she’d lost. He was a monster. Him and her father both. She felt another wave of anger surge through her. In what world was it fair that Erik was dead and Norvan and Dalmar were still breathing? How could someone be so heartless as to take him from her without a second thought? How could people, like her father and Dalmar, find pleasure in killing others? She may have thought the removal of some malevolent individuals necessary but never took pleasure in their demise only in the justice being served. One thing couldn’t be denied: her father and Dalmar were insane. They had to be brought down. Any reservations or fears she had, Liana knew she couldn’t wait any longer. She was done running from her past. 

…..

Present-day:

Jason woke, tied to a chair. Ropes dug into his wrists. Beads of sweat trickled down his face, or perhaps blood, though he wasn’t sure which one. His eyes adjusted to the dim light. He appeared to be in some type of warehouse. Above him, warehouse pendant lights flickered the only source of light in the room. 

It all came flooding back to him—what he'd prayed had been only a nightmare—The car chase, men shooting at them, Tasha slumping forward on the steering wheel ….

Tasha. His heart began to race and a sinking feeling settled in the pit of his stomach. Where was she? He prayed she was still alive. He frantically glanced around him but saw no one. 

He couldn’t help but wonder if his earlier actions had caused this. 

He struggled to loosen the ropes that bound him. Straining he turned every which way trying to free himself. It was no use. He let out a scream of frustration and lowered his head. A feeling of helplessness and utter loneliness consumed him, His head throbbed but the physical pain he was experiencing didn’t compare to his overwhelming guilt.

It’s my fault. The words stabbed through his mind. I got us into this. I shouldn't have acted recklessly—Why didn’t I just stick to the plan? Why did I have to be so stubborn? He shook his head. I wanted so desperately to prove myself that I ended up screwing everything up. If I get out of this I’ll probably have to resign. The last thing the NSA wants is someone who can’t complete a routine mission, let alone their first assignment. Who knows, maybe that’s probably for the best anyway. Donovan saw right through me. My flaws and weaknesses…how careless I could be…and I proved him right. Now not only is the mission ruined but Tasha’s life is in danger because of me. If she dies I’ll never be able to forgive myself.

He glanced up at the ceiling. Right now he didn’t feel like he belonged anywhere. His whole body felt numb.

There was nothing he wanted to do, nowhere he wanted to go. Nothing mattered anymore, except doing everything he possibly could to right his mistake. To make sure Tasha was safe and if possible successfully complete their assignment.

Whoever was behind this would probably hurt him. The thought barely registered in his mind. He knew he should feel something. Dread. Fear. Anxiety. But he didn’t. All his thoughts were turned to Tasha. They could do whatever they wanted to him. It didn’t matter. He would willingly sacrifice his life without hesitation if it meant they didn’t touch her. At that moment he knew he was powerless. There was only one thing he could do. He bowed his head and closed his eyes.

…..

Tasha’s eyes darted around the room, her eyes landing on the metal door to the side of her. She felt something digging into her skin and realized she was tied up. Tasha lay against the wall struggling to recall previous events, how she’d ended up here. Her mind was blank. The last thing she remembered was leaving with Jason for the gala. She looked down at her clothes. Instead of the dark blue dress, she remembered she was wearing light pink pajamas. She looked around the room. The floor was layered with dirt. Cobwebs hung from the corners of the room. Jason was nowhere in sight. Who knew where he could be. For all Tasha knew he could be lying dead somewhere or being mercilessly tortured. 

The door creaked open causing Tasha to look up. An older muscular man entered the room followed by a tall brown-haired woman. 

It didn’t take a genius to guess what they were probably after. Information. Luckily, Tasha thought, she’d been briefed and trained how to resist such efforts. She sat up in her seat and braced herself for whatever was coming, though she couldn’t help the shivers that traveled down her spine. 

Milena’s eyes met Tasha’s. Tasha tried to read them yet they seemed nearly expressionless. The man’s on the other hand were easy to read. They were deathly cold.

Milena spoke. “I have to say that was quite a showing back there. Very impressive. My hired men are known for their efficiency. You and your associate were their hardest targets ever by far.” She crossed her arms. “So congrats.”

Tasha kept a blank expression on her face. "You might as well just skip to the end. I’m not saying anything.” 

“Who said anything about getting information? I’m not so stupid as to waste my time trying to get intel out of an NSA agent.”

Elias walked over to Tasha “Never saw that coming did you?”

Tasha looked him directly in the eyes. “Can’t say I didn’t. If I was in your shoes I wouldn’t waste my time either.” Fear trembled through her, but at the same time, there was a defiance in her eyes. Even in face of danger, she wasn’t one to submit or hold back on fiery comebacks. 

A dark chuckle escaped his lips. He glanced at Milena. “I like this one. Too bad we can’t keep her around.”

“I’m afraid I wouldn’t be the best company anyway.” Tasha glanced at the metal door beyond Milena and Elias. There was one question she had to ask. Though a possible answer filled her with dread. Life had a funny, even almost cruel way of unfolding. Not even a few hours ago Jason and she had been going at it and now here she was worrying over his safety. Though she was still deeply angry and upset at Jason for what he had done, all that mattered to her right now was that he was alright. “Is…he okay?”

“He’s alive if that’s what you’re asking,” Elias replied.

 A wave of relief washed over Tasha. At least she and Jason were both alive. When it came down to it that alone only mattered. A dark thought crept into her mind. But then again who knew what their captors had in mind for them. Perhaps it would have been better for him not to survive, that might have been a merciful fate.

Elias stepped closer to Tasha. Then, from under his black shirt, he unslung a small black pistol from his belt.

Tasha’s mouth began to run dry and her heart began to race. Elias twirled the gun on his finger, only increasing Tasha’s uneasiness.

She ignored him, keeping her eyes fixed on Milena. “You know, you seem like a straight shooter so I’ll cut to the chase. Why exactly do you need us? If you’re not after information I fail to see the point.” 

Milena gave a small laugh. “Aren’t you a fast talker? Trying to hide your fear?”

“No, my boredom.”

Milena clasped her hands. “Let’s just say I need you both for a plan of mine.”

Tasha eyed her confusingly. “What kind of plan.”

“That would be giving things away now would it?”

“What things? Are you working for Dalmar?”

Pain flashed across Milena’s eyes at the mention of his name. It was only there for a second and was gone as soon as it came. Not before being noticed by Tasha. “Dalmar, that monster. Heck no! Your whole plan of bringing him down is still happening. You and Edward are just playing a different role than you originally planned.”

Tasha found herself shocked by Milena’s revelation. However, she made certain not to show her surprise to those in the room. Basic training - never show your opponent what you’re thinking. 

Milena turned to Elias. “Would you give us a moment?”

 He glanced from Milena to Tasha and back to Milena again. He placed his gun back in its holster. “Sure.” The door clanked shut behind him.

“I know what you may think of me and I can’t say I blame you. I’d probably feel the same way too…but I just want to say that I admire your tenacity. I respect what you’re doing.”

Tasha leaned forward. “Really. I would never have guessed. If you respected my mission, why interfere with it?”

“Trust me. I had my reasons. The justice I’d get from your NSA wouldn’t be enough.” She spoke, a hint of sadness showing in her eyes for a brief moment. 

From the first time she laid eyes on her Tasha could tell that the woman standing in front of her wasn’t a hardened criminal. That there was something beneath the surface. It was obvious now she’d suffered some tragic painful event in her life. Dalmar’s doing most likely. Tasha thought for a moment about how to respond. She knew the words she’d say would probably not change her mind or course of action, but she had to try.

Tasha spoke softly. “I know what horrific things Dalmar is capable of…Sometimes it seems that men like him just end up walking away but that’s no ex—”

“Excuse for me to take the law into my hands. Yeah, I figured that speech was coming. Guess what, I don’t have time for it.” Milena said strongly before turning around and walked across the room. Well, that went well but pretty much how I expected. Tasha thought as Milena shut the door behind her as she exited the room, leaving Tasha alone once again. 

[rfschatten]

It still the damn Mask, Stupid

“The highest form of ignorance is when you reject something you don’t know anything about.” ~~~ Wayne Dyer

“May you live in interesting times”? Oh yes! We, the people have certainly been really cursed!

It may sound kind of stupid, but how many people have been vaccinated at one time or another in their life? Chances are …if you ever went to school …yes! Whether you liked it or not, you were vaccinated! And it wasn’t by choice, your parents knew what was best for you and so did medical authorities …they understood the seriousness of infecting others, which could lead to a serious epidemic.

It’s always been the norm, always! …until now, when politics decided for their own ugly sordid purpose, to stick their ugly head into all of this! If you want your kids to go to school, you get them vaccinated …and that has really never changed. The first mandatory school vaccinations occurred in the 1850s to protect children from Smallpox …and it’s been a requirement in all 50 States for both, childcare and kids entering school for the first time, ever since!

The primary vaccines administered usually starts around the ages of 6 years old: the DTaP (Diphtheria, Tetanus, & Pertussis) Vaccine, the Polio Vaccine, Varicella Vaccine, MMR (Mumps, Measles, & Rubella) Vaccine, Hib (Haemophilus Influenzae type B) Vaccine, & Influenza (Flu) Vaccine. These are just a few …there’re between 8–16 different vaccines someone may end up taking during their lifetime, and that doesn’t include any of the newer ones …including Covid-19.

This is not just a school problem, the overwhelming majority of infections and deaths are from adults, and they’re acquiring all these new variants, too. The real problem is the moral issue …how much do you really care about your own child or another child’s health and welfare? How much do you really care about the health and welfare of your own community?

Every single human being growing up has been told; listen to your doctor! Every parent in the world has taken their children and/or themselves to a doctor at one time or another …if there’s access to one. So, what’s the big problem? The biggest problem is …we’re now living in a society dominated by sheer unadulterated ignorance!

Why do these parents don’t give a damn whether their children get sick? …or whether their children die? As long as they don’t have to wear a mask, everything is fine inside their own little bubble of reality …the sheer ignorance that has been politized by people who really don’t give a damn except gaining their supporter’s votes and especially their money …that’s all they really care about! Look how many kids are getting infected or dying in Ron DeSantis’ Florida death march and Glenn Abbot’s Texas genocide?

What does it take to convince some people that nothing is going to ever change back to any type of normal until those people start listening to Medical Authorities much more seriously than to Politicos?

What does it take to examine this pandemic and take a look at the numbers? More than 37 million people are already infected, with 600,00+ deaths …and predicting now to reach 660,000 by September …that’s more American deaths than WWI, WWII, Korea, & Vietnam combined! It’s more than the entire 1918 Spanish Influenza pandemic that killed 650,000! …though some say it may have been up to 750,000!

In those days you didn’t have the lines of communication around the world between the medical communities, as you have today …it was just as new to many doctors, especially country doctors. Advance medical technology and general medical knowledge was not around as much, yet still they prevailed.

There’s no excuse whatsoever that 21 years into the 21st Century, more than 600,000 people have had to die! …and with all these new variants, it’s just getting worse as the numbers are spiking all over, again. How can people see all this and wonder why we don’t get back to normal? As I said in Nov. 2020, in my article; “It’s the Mask, Stupid!” …nothing will ever get back to normal until this pandemic gets completely under control! And it’ll never, ever get under control till people stop listening to politicos and demagogues …and start listening to medical professionals, period!

We’re going through a severe public health emergency! It’s going to get worse! It’s going to get a lot worse than the first giant surge …95% of all new cases with all these new variants are from unvaccinated people. And this time, the surge is also affecting children of all ages … children's hospitals are filling to capacity, pediatric ICUs are near capacity …children under 2 are becoming the latest victims!

While Covid-19 keeps spreading among the population, worse than ever …a vicious and methodical anti-vaxxer & anti-CDC insanity is being pushed by GOP politicos & social conservatives, all against the use of masks and vaccinations around the country …and it’s hindering the effort to keep this nation healthy and safe.

The undermining of the public’s health in name of political gains …by willfully endangering human lives with the use of systematic political projections, mass misinformation, continued lies 24/7, disingenuous rhetoric, cultivating ignorance, and deliberately creating massive obfuscation.

The schadenfreude of the entire GOP around the country …especially the extreme cruelty perpetrated against children by Ron DeSantis in Florida (better known these days as #DeathSantis), forcing children not to wear masks, while the “Sunshine State” has the highest rate of children hospitalized in the nation, and 25% of all cases in the United States! Texas’ Greg Abbott is literally competing for the same honor …all of Texas’ hospitals & ICUs …like in Florida …are currently running at full & overcapacity, with field hospitals in the parking lots & underground garages!

Meanwhile, the massive campaign to spread deliberate misinformation hasn’t worked too well for their own constituency of conservative Anti-Vaxxers. Ex-Newsmax & Fl. right-wing radio talk host Dick Farrell, who 10 days earlier, called Anthony Fauci a “power-tripping lying freak” and mocked the pandemic as a “scamdemic” …died of Covid! Then, not to be outdone …Texas GOP official H. Scott Apley, an anti-mask and anti-vaxxer who wrote an invitation to a “mask burning” and mocked Covid …died 5 days later, from Covid!

The unvaccinated, anti-vaxxers, and Covid deniers all over the country are now sick & dying right and left from Covid-19 …while totally incompetent super-spreading idiots like Rand Paul keep pushing his supporters to become bigger idiots than they already are, calling for “civil disobedience” and saying; “No one should follow the CDC mandate” “it’s time to ‘resist’ common sense health problems”!

And this, from the same man who for 16 months did not reveal an inside trade, accounting for a slew of stock he bought in a Covid treatment center …so, for Mr. Paul? the more people resist, the more people will get sick, and the more money Mr. Paul makes!

Resist “common sense”?!?! …if it comes down to believing that BS? Maybe it takes getting infected, intubated, and placed on a mechanical ventilator to change their tune …unfortunately, you still have those just too ignorant, who do get infected and still refuse to get vaccinated. Resist common sense? Something might be lost in translation, but if it comes down to that …they’ll deserve what they get!

If things are not bad enough? …now, we have the GOP promoting the excuse of “freedom of speech” rhetoric to allow their supporters to use threats of bodily harm …primarily, by the Proud Boys …shouting and threatening doctors, nurses, and other health professionals, in front of their own homes, telling them; “we know who you are, we’re going get you!”, as a way for them to stop treating the sick! Give them a break! …all they’re trying to do is save lives, probably, your own rotten life too.

An elementary school teacher was attacked by an angry parent for having the audacity of protecting his little daughter! More Proud Boys carrying MAGA Trump flags stabbed a pro-mask supporter at an Anti-Vaxxer rally, and beat up 2 news reporters …Frank Stoltze of NPR was repeatedly kicked and beaten up & Tina Desiree Berg was attacked, beaten, and had her mask torn off by her attacker, Tony Moon …another Jan. 6th Capital rioter, all caught on camera.

There’s really no excuse! …all this is not about your “Freedom”, free not to get vaccinated or not wear a mask, it’s not about mandates or requirements, it’s totally a sham perpetrated by Republicans using the pandemic to raise money for their own selfish non-medical gains …professional propagandist Tucker Carlson said the “US Government wants to ‘force’ us to get vaccinated, force us to take medicine, even force us to get ‘sterilized’ like in WWII Germany” …” no one owns my body”!

This is a man who says he’s against Anti-Fascism (Antifa) …which makes him a Pro Fascist! The same Fascists that believe in “forced sterilization”, and the belief in the use of Eugenics. “No one owns my body?” …except if that someone is a woman who wants an abortion, then, he believes in owning ‘her’ body for life!

Fact: there are no US Government mandates or requirements ordering anyone to get vaccinated or wear a mask, whatsoever! No one is forcing anyone to take any type of medicine! Yes, you do have the constitutional right to reject all medicines and vaccines …and yes, you also have the freedom and the right to die for not taking care of yourself or not listening to medical advice!

When will people understand just to follow some common sense! listen to medical professionals! listen to all those people tirelessly working their asses off in hospitals 24/7 for more than a year, risking their own lives while trying to save even just one life?…the life that might very well be you, someday! No one is more bipartisan than doctors, nurses, respiratory therapists, and others who are not looking at, and don’t give a damn what political party you belong to, what ideology you have, what color is your skin, or where you came from!

When will people understand the severity of this virus? 93% of all the Covid variants in the United States are Delta! …which is a highly transmissible variant. The newest Lambda variant is now coming out from South America, and it already arrived in California. All you have to do is listen! …the more people let these variants go rampant, the more these viruses are going to mutate, thus creating much worse and more dangerous strains!

All these unvaccinated anti-mask & anti-vaxxers, Covid deniers, all these enraged parents who keep having violent meltdowns because they and/or their children are being forced to wear a mask, they all need to understand It’s not just to protect yourself and your child …it’s to protect others. If you’re sick, or maybe even dying …why would you want to go to a hospital if you can’t trust those doctors for medical advice? You can’t have it both ways!

No one has said it any better than Arnold Schwarzenegger; “Screw your freedom! …with Freedom comes Obligation & Responsibility”!

Is it the right of a parent…in the name of “Freedom”…to endanger the life of his or her child? In any other time, that would be considered child abuse, and Child Enforcement would be knocking at your door quicker than you can say Dept. of Children & Families! And what about viewing it from the child’s mind? How much has their childhood social cognition, developed? Does he or she understand what this commotion is all about? and how do they feel about it? …or, if all they know and feel is; what the hell is going on?

As a parent, it’s your moral & legal obligation to take care of your kids …it’s your personal responsibility as a parent not to be a piece of shit, so your kids wouldn’t have to inherit that legacy.

As far as the grown-ups of all persuasions, all races, all colors, or creeds…grow up! As a citizen of this country, it’s your moral & legal obligation to work with your community to keep it safe for everyone! It’s your moral responsibility to protect your kids & your family, protect your neighbors’ kids and their families, and protect your community from a deadly disease …so get vaccinated! …and wear a damn mask!

Freedom? Sorry! You’re not going to be free in any way till this pandemic is completely under control …so live with it!

Will Rogers said; “You can’t legislate intelligence and common sense into people”

In the end, if you can’t convince ignorance …you just have to let them sink or swim on their own miseries and mistakes. You can be as compassionate & sympathetic as you can, but sooner or later …people are not going to give a damn about your freedom …or whether you live or die, anymore!

Meanwhile, screw others’ “freedom” and be smart …stay vaccinated and just keep wearing your mask!

[daydreaming-nerd]

The Dark Side of A Broken Heart (Anakin Skywalker x Reader)

Hi guys I just recently had a surge in requests so I’m gonna try and pound them out as fast as I can! Please be patient with me and know that each and everyone of your requests are important to me and I’ll be writing each and everyone as the plot forms in my head which can vary from prompt to prompt. I do every request completely randomly.

Request by anon: Can u make a Anakin x Reader with number 2, where she turns evil and the two are forced to fight. But he loves her and she loved him but he understands it’s not the same Y/N  

#2: “You did this to yourself!”  

Warnings: Dark Side reader, angst, sad ending 

It was one of those things I never wanted to see and was never supposed to see and despite it all, still saw.

I had loved Anakin for many years. Ever since we were slaves together on Tatooine. My father left us and my mother died when I was three, Shmi took me in and treated me as her own. When Qui-Gon and Obi Won rescued Ani from Tatooine he wouldn’t leave without me, so I became a Jedi with him.

Many years passed by and my love for him grew stronger. I thought that perhaps he had felt the same but that all changed when I saw the terrible sight. I was walking into the Jedi temple after having met with Chancellor Palpatine to find Anakin and Padme hiding behind a pillar. I stopped to hear what she was saying.

“Oh Ani I love you,” she swooned before locking their lips.

I felt my heart break in two, there was a huge pit in my stomach as my whole world and everything I knew was collapsing around me. I clutched at my heart feeling the physical pain of it all. At once I stormed out and got back in my speeder and ran to the only person I felt as though I could seek council from, the man who had become a father figure to me. The Chancellor.

---------- 

When I arrived I bursted into the room with tears running down my cheeks.

“Child whatever seems to be the matter?” asked Palpatine.

“Chancellor Palpatine, Anakin is in love with Padme,” I half cried.

“But you were so sure that he had feelings for you,” he said opening his arms to me. I ran to him.

“I was wrong,” I cried into his robes. “why does it hurt so bad?”

“It’s the pain of a broken heart child,”

“I hate her,” I said my demeanor going from sad to angry in a flash “I hate her so much I could, I could-”

“Kill her?” He finished.

“I want to,” I cried, “but it’s not the Jedi way,”

“It seems as though the only solution to your problem is to dispose of her,” he said setting off a light bulb in my mind.

“You’re the Sith lord master Yoda has been looking for,” I said standing up defensively activating my saber.

“That I am child,” he started “but if you kill me you’ll lose young Skywalker forever,” 

“What do you mean?” I said lowering my saber a little bit.

“I know whats been troubling you. Listen to me, don’t continue to be a pawn in the Jedi council, use my knowledge of the dark side, I can teach you the power to make Anakin love you forever.” He said causing me to think “I can feel your anger towards Pamde, it gives you focus, makes you stronger. With my help you can be stronger than any Jedi there ever was. I can give you everything you ever wanted”

I turned off my saber.

“Become my apprentice, learn to use the dark side of the force,” he said standing up.

“I will do whatever you say master,” I said falling to my knees “Just please give me Anakin, I can’t live without him”  

“Together... we can discover the secret,” 

“I pledge myself to your teachings,” I said in defeat. 

---------- ANAKIN’S POV----------

“Master Yoda did you feel that,”  said walking into the council room.

“Yes, powerful the dark side has suddenly become,” he said shaking his head.

“What is it?” I said.

“It seems that the Chancellor is not who we thought him to be, the Sith lord we’ve been looking for he is,”

“I’ll alert Master Obi Won,” I said “We will see to it that he is arrested.”

“Wait young Skywalker, more to this there is. Your companion y/n has also turned to the dark side.” he said sadly.

“It can’t be,” I said feeling my heart shatter “Y/n would never do that I know it,”

“True it is, stop her you must.”

“I can’t,” 

“You are the only one who can,”

----------YOUR POV---------- 

My ship landed on Mustafar and before I exited I looked to the back to see that Padme was right where I left her on the ship. Lord Sidious required that I kill the reminder of the population on Mustafar but I knew that Master Yoda would sense my change from Jedi to Sith and send Anakin after me. I wanted to kill Padme right in front of him. I wanted him to feel the pain I felt when he kissed her, and then I wanted to use whatever tricks Lord Sidious had up his sleeve to make him mine forever. 

With my new powers it had never been so easy to murder the people left inside the control center. As I ran back to the ship I saw Anakin carrying Padme out of my ship and I used the force to push him back causing him to drop her. I stood in front of her with my lightsaber out, but not ignited.

“Y/n why are you doing this?” he said “ You’re not this person!”

“You broke me Anakin,” I said coldly.

“How?!”

‘I saw you, I saw you kissing her,” I said pointing to an unconscious Padme “You led me on all these years and then you chose her. You broke my heart Anakin.”

“Y/n you’re wrong it was always you that I loved, I just never told you because of the code! She was in loved with me! She forced herself on me! Stop this insanity! Come home!” he cried.

“YOU’RE A LIAR!” I screamed in pain pointing my saber at Padme.

“Please y/n... please don’t do this, I love you,” he begged. “If you do this you leave me no choice but to fight you.”

“You’re love for her started the fight Anakin...not me,” I said igniting my saber finishing her once and for all. 

Anakin ignited his saber and ran toward me but I raised mine up and they clashed. We fought tooth and nail making our way into the control room once again. I force pushed him into a wall making him drop his saber. I charged him but he used the force to reach his saber and block my hit. From the ground he swiped his leg under mine knocking me over and getting on top of me putting his saber to my throat.

“Stop this y/n! You don’t know what you’re doing!” he screamed.

“You did this to me!” I screamed back.

“You did this to yourself!” he cried before I kicked him off of me. 

The fight continued outside to the lava river. All of the sudden Anakin forced pushed me to the ground causing me to drop my saber into the river. It was like I had been hypnotized and he had woken me up. When I stood up again I realized what I had done. I looked into Anakin’s eyes and it was clear to us both that whatever had taken over me was gone now. Before either of us could get a word out I felt a disturbance in the force. Sidious was coming to Mustafar to collect me.

“You have to go,” I said running over to him. 

“I won’t leave without you,” He said putting his hands around my waist.

“You have to, Lord Sidious will kill you,” I said resting my hands on his face. “He won’t rest until he finds me, he knows he can’t take over without me.” 

“Y/n please,” he said starting to cry “I can’t lose you. Come back to the Jedi temple with me they’ll forgive you!”

“I can’t take back the things I said and did Ani. After today I could never fully be a Jedi. But I can still save you! Now go before it’s too late.” I said crying pressing my forehead against his. 

“I love you,” he said with a shaky breath.

“I love you too,” I replied and with that he took off towards his ship.

---------- 

“I’m sorry Lord Sidious but he rid me of my lightsaber, I had no way to kill him” I said down on one knee before my master.

“We will dispose of him at a later time,” he said over me. 

We boarded the ship alongside dozens of storm troopers and I knew my fate now. 

Once on board I stood by my masters side and overlooked the galaxy. I donned a black cloak and armor. 

“Here,” said Master Sidious handing me a strange looking lightsaber “This is the weapon of a Sith.”

I ignited it to find that it was fiery red and duel ended similar to the infamous Darth Maul’s saber.

As I looked out over the galaxy I knew what my fate now was and I hoped to never see Anakin again, for if I did,  I would have to take actions that would result in breaking my heart yet again. Wherever he was out there I hoped he was safe and I hope he will soon forget me. I can’t run from what I have become.

“Where do we go next Master,” I asked.

“The Death Star,”

[peniswentz]

On my baseball blog, I made a post about things I hate about baseball, because of my url. Might as well do the same with hockey, here we go:

Starting with the obvious, hockey culture. As a whole.

Gritty. No I'm not sorry. I used to find him so annoying, and though I could tolerate him a little now, sometimes he still makes me angry.(EDIT: I'm just gonna say all mascots. I'm sorry for the gritty slander, I don't know what I was thinking😔)

The lack of personality of every player, except for maybe a few.

Defensemen most of the time.

Refs. We saw this coming.

Kyle Dubas, for so so many reasons. I could make a seperate list. /j

The way my dad and I could predict trades without predicting them. It's complicated.

When I first really got into hockey, Andre Burakovsky got traded to the avs, and when I found out I was insanely happy, only to burst into tears after finding out Tyson Barrie was traded to the leafs.

I am now a leafs fan as a result.

When the avs played the stars in the playoffs, the avs broadcast did a close up of roope hintz doing a hair flip, and that's how I fell in love with him. After the avs lost, I was just. Why.

Every gray reverse retro jersey makes me angry.

Free agency.

Marc-Andre Fleury is not a Pittsburgh Penguin.

God forbid I read the name Wayne Gretzky on my dash, because I WILL start crying because of a cursed mem or something stupid

I can't take myself seriously wearing my Aho jersey because I look like a six year old child wearing their parent's coat or something. You can't see my hands.

I refuse to believe anyone can be as tall as Zdeno Chara. Like how THE FUCK.

Alternatively, I am 2 inches taller tha Nathan Gerbe, and that is HILARIOUS.

Ball Arena

Let's play a game: Do I blame the goalie or the defense for that stupid goal???

I miss seeing my friend at school every day because he's a wild fan and he once said that the Avalanch didn't have hands  proceeded to show me a picture of an actual avalanche. Please learn to shut up, ANDREW.

Let goalies score more goals, cowards.

Captainless teams make me forget they exist.

There was a time in my life where I was terrified of Zach Hyman. I don't know why.

A team is trailing by one with a couple minutes left in the period. They have an empty net. The winning team ends up taking a penalty, so now the losing team is on the PP with an EN only needing one more goal to go into OT. HOW IS THAT LEGAL?!???!?

My grandma probably has a crush on half the players(do I count this?? It's funny sometimes)

The Tkachuk brothers. I don't hate them, I just hate that I like them now (In other words, I somewhat simp for them)

Anyone who hates the storm surge. You hate having fun, don't you?

When I was little, I thought orange and blue were so cool, because the Senver Broncos, my home football team. First off, THEY SUCK, and second, the Isles and Oilers ruined that for me.

I get along with a lot of bruins fans for me being a leafs fan lmao

Every player ever being interviewed sounds the exact same, change my mind.

This list is too long, I think something is wrong with me.

The expansion draft is set out to kill me.

Just like in the baseball list, every team, no matter who is just trying to hurt me as much as possible.

I will actually cry if a player from a team I don't even like gets traded. I don't follow the team, I just don't wanna see them in a different jersey, because it's weird.

Half of the nicknames I have heard give me so much pain. Imagine your nickname being lil jizzy.

I'm stopping the list here, maybe I'll add on, idk

[missing-fanfics]

A Family Mystery Uncovered

Include the following in your story:

⟡Sunday ⟡secret ⟡wallpaper ⟡swap ⟡sister ⟡curiosity ⟡island ⟡notebook ⟡marathon ⟡demand

A/N: ello Sarah here. Hope you like this weird mess. Honestly these end up really weird and pretty garbage, but hopefully mildly entertaining.

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: nothing I think...?

Charlie Weasley x Fem!reader

~~~~

There was a slight problem arising in the Burrow. Charlie Weasley had a secret. Now secret’s aren’t always a bad thing. Often times they are kept for a perfectly good reason and deserve to be kept. Molly Weasley understood that perfectly well, thank you. That didn’t stop her from becoming very angry at the thought that her second born son was keeping a secret from his own mum.

It started when Charlie would refuse to come back to England. Claiming that their was so much work to be done in Romania. No one batted an eye at his excuses. This was Charlie Weasley we’re talking about, it’s not like he did anything scandalous.

The lies to not return home shifted to being about work to being about his health, his home, to other workers at the sanctuary. It had been a solid 6 months until the last time he’d stepped foot into the Burrow.

This is what had been the last straw for Molly Weasley. Her curiosity clouding her judgment as she aparated to the Dragon Sanctuary.

⟡

With careful steps you stealthily made your way to the unsuspecting dragon. It’s dark grey tail swished in content as it dosed happily in the early Sunday sun. You couldn’t help but smirk to yourself as you remembered Hogwarts’ saying, never wake a sleeping dragon, my ass.

With a loud battle cry you launched herself onto the Hebridean Black’s back. He awoke with a start and cried out in surprise and anger. He started to trash around and spit fire up into the air, trying to kill any danger. You laughed loudly and ran a calming hand down his back and lightly humming.

“Good morning Ewan!” You yelled as you gripped onto his shoulder blades trying not get bucked off. The dragon calmed down slightly when it realised it wasn’t in any real danger. Smilingly brightly, you slid off the dragons in a rather awkward manor. Ewan spun around quickly and started to growl at you.

You put my hands to your hips and glared at the dragon like a mother scolding her children. Although Ewan was still considered a baby he was damn well old enough not to growl at you.

“Yeah yeah save the complaining for someone who cares.” You snarked strolling over to the bucket you dropped as you jumped onto the dragon. His angry expression changed rather quickly when he was the container of food you were bringing to him. For a fierce dragon he sure was a softy for food.

You placed the bucket down and tossed a deer leg into the air. Ewan jumped up and caught it with a satisfying clamp of his powerful jaws. You sighed dreamily as you watched him eat. Ewan was a being you loved to adore and also piss off.

“Oi! Y/L/N!” Someone shouted dragging your attention away from your handsome dragon. You tightened your ponytail and spun around to see a rather buff ginger man walking towards you.

“Charlie!” You yelled grinning at him. He rarely would come into the nursery area, but whenever he did you made sure to leave him in a much better mood. Ewan usually left him with a new sick scar for getting too close to his adoptive mother. But all this was very worth it to Charlie.

You hastily ran over to him and pulled him into a chaste kiss. Both smiling too much to do anything further.

“If I would’ve known you were visiting me I would’ve worn my sexy dungarees.” You teased with a smile. Charlie grinned and pulled you to him with a content sigh. He gripped you by the waist and put his chin on you head.

Ewan growled as he watched the two of you. With a loud huff he took flight and dramatically flew the couple of yards to you.

“Someone jealous.” Charlie said in your ear as Ewan landed loudly in front of you both “He’s always in a constant demand for your attention.”

You smirked at your dragon and pulled away from Charlie regretfully.

Charlie snickered as he watched you tackle the young dragon to the ground. Ewan snorted with glee and chased you around the field.

You had the idea to start building bonds with the dragons in order to be able to do your job safer in the future. This meant you were constantly in the nursery and at this particular moment, playing and taking care of an orphaned Hebridean Black.

You were on the rescuing team when they found him off the coast of Gills cowering for fear in an abandoned nest on the Island of Stroma. You had immediately bonded with him and you stayed with him the entire way back to Romania from Scotland.

Charlie smiled at his girlfriend as you ran around the nursery. You had always done things unconventionally around the Dragon Sanctuary. As a newbie this had gotten you burns and reprimands from your superiors. But as a very experienced magizoologist all of your insane ideas only brought better results than anyone had ever seen.

You were the first person to tame and ride a dragon. Her name was Yeva, you had raised her from a newborn hatchling to a proud powerful adult. The beautiful Ukrainian Ironbelly was a fierce thing to be reckoned with and with a grinning witch on her back, her danger doubled.

Charlie grinned as he watched you run towards him. You unceremoniously slumped down next to him on the beautiful green grass. You grinned as you watched Ewan run around chasing his tail. You watching him in great interest before noticing just how many similarities he had with a dog. Sure an extremely dangerous dog, but a dog nonetheless.

You scribbled your findings into your trusty notebook. Eyebrows furrowed in concentration and Charlie couldn’t help but smile softly as he stared at you. You were simply sitting on the ground, your body covered in dirt from rolling around with Ewan all day. Charlie never thought you looked more beautiful.

You looked up, feeling Charlie’s eyes on you. A grin graced your face, but when you saw his intense expression your smile softened.

“Charlie darling, what is it?” You asked, your voice soft. You tilted your head and moved to sit facing him a little better.

Your notebook was shoved to the ground as Charlie surged on you. His lips meeting yours and you melted against him. His arm snaked around your waist. Soft lips and a passionate kiss, love pouring from him and into you as his tongue traced the inside of your mouth as if he was trying to memorize it. He felt so incredibly warm under your touch and his love burned your skin, absolute adoration coursing through you straight from his own heart.

You felt as if you had just run a marathon but you loved the burn in your lungs. Nothing would separate you from the man you loved. He was the one to break the kiss but leaned his forehead against yours. Both of your eyes stayed shut as you stayed in your intimacy, catching your breaths.

A laugh bubbles up in you as you pressed a quick peck to his lips before standing. His eyes stayed close even after you pulled away, staying in the moment. He opened them after a few moments to see you brushing off your very dirty work clothes.

“Come on big boy let’s go make some lunch. You have Norberta duty today and you need all the energy you can get.” You said giggling. You offered a hand to pull him up which he accepted with a groan.

“I still think you rigged that.” Charlie said swooping down and gathering your notebook and the bucket that once contained deer legs. You snorted and rolled your eyes.

“You can’t rig a game of exploding snap. You’re just a sore loser.” You quipped and reaches up to ruffle his hair. “Unless you’re a really really smart and good looking dragon expert who swapped yours out for a bad one.” He narrowed his eyes at you and shook his head.

“You’re gonna regret doing that.” He said as a mischievous smile spread across his face. Your eyes widened and you took off running to your shared hut. Charlie was faster and grabbed you by the waist and hurled you up. You shrieked out a laugh as he threw you over his one of his broad shoulders.

“Charlie!” You screeched as he started running and you bumped on his shoulder uncomfortably.

“Sorry darling I don’t listen to cheaters!” He yelled and you laughed harder as he ran with you.

Charlie stopped running abruptly as he carried you to your shared hut. The lights were on inside and a comforting scent of food wafted from one of the opened windows. He placed you down carefully, both of your expressions going hard as he pulled out his wand and caustically walked towards the door.

Charlie’s eyes widened and his jaw dropped once he saw his mother bustling around the kitchen. She didn’t seem to notice either of you walk in and you cocked your head to the side trying to see the intruder over Charlie’s shoulder.

“Mum?” Charlie exclaimed finally gaining her attention. She froze from making a seasoned chicken fly towards the stove.

“Charlie dear! I came in to see you but realised you were gone.” She said smiling brightly. You cowered behind Charlie, becoming shy in the presence of the woman that raised your boyfriend.

“Erm mum. This is Y/N.” Charlie said rubbing the back of his neck. Molly’s eyes widened as she noticed you behind Charlie’s stocky frame. “My uh...girlfriend.”

You suddenly wanted nothing more than to blend into the wallpaper as Molly stared at you with an unreadable expression. Charlie cleared his throat and grabbed your hand that was shaking. He ran a thumb over your knuckles trying to soothe you.

Molly watched this exchange and snapped out of her trance. She smiled brightly and rushed over to the two of you.

“Hello dear, I’m Molly. I didn’t know Charlie had a girlfriend, you are very pretty.” She said pulling you into a bone-crushing hug. You laughed as she pulled away. Charlie watched you two with an adoring smile.

“How long have you been together? What’s your name? You work here too? Is Charlie treating you well? You live together?!” You blinked trying to keep up with her questions. You looked to Charlie for help as Molly started to overwhelm you.

“Sorry about that Mum it’s just that I didn’t want to overwhelm Y/N when we were just getting to know one another. It wasn’t intentional to hurt anyone.” He said stopping Molly from her rapid questions at you.

Molly made tea for the three of you. As she sat in your small living room, you and Charlie remained in the kitchen.

“She seems absolutely wonderful, I don’t know why you were so nervous for me to meet your family.” You said taking a sip of the Irish Breakfast tea in your hands. Charlie sighed and leaned against the counter.

“That’s just my mum. If you met my brothers or my sister you’d go running for the hills.” He huffed. You raised an eyebrow at him.

“If they’re anything like you then I’m sure I’ll love them. And even if they’re weird, so what? Weird is more interesting.” You placed your mug down and wrapped your arms around him. His tense posture relaxed as you nuzzled your face into his neck.

“I love you.” You mumbled as he pulled you closer to him. He rested his head onto your shoulder.

“I love you too.”

[callsignbaphomet]

🖊🖊🖊 for Jelani and up to two others of your choice, or just three about him?

❣❣❣

🖋 So, I've mentioned before that since he was a teenager Jelani has had really bad migraines, night terrors, sleep paralysis, sleepwalking, has really bad nyctophobia, really bad insomnia and can frequently see things. No matter how many tests he gets done or how much he checks on any of those things nothing ever comes back. According to all those tests he's gotten he is perfectly healthy. So why do those things happen? It's a curse.

Ok, so for this, we need to go way way back to what I just refer to as the before. So Jelani is in actuality a Maker (that's a god of the gods). In fact he wasn't just a Maker and didn't belong to just any ol' pantheon. This pantheon was in fact the first pantheon that ever existed, they laid out the foundations for life within existence. So this pantheon, called the Primordial Pantheon was chaotic. They had so much power and energy that many of them were just little balls of unpredictable chaos and often did things just because. Now, this pantheon wasn't meant to last, they would create existence and from their deaths more life was supposed to spring forth but they all literally said "lol fuck that". So they continued to exist, thing is there kind of wasn't a place for them as from them other Makers, gods and deities were made. So this pantheon gathered and made a realm of their own and by they I mean Jela was the one that made it because only Makers can do that. So basically they were just gonna chill there and basically exist as the patheon of the gods with Jela being the literal "Father of Makers". But like I said, they were all a bunch of unpredictable beings of chaos and each one wanted to rule the realm on their own. So because of the power struggle they all broke out into war. During the fighting one of them had actually taken the crown thing that hovers over all Makers (each looks different for every Maker) broke it and sunk it into Jelani's skull, more specifically the right side of his skull. THAT is the cause of his migraines, the broken crown in the wound. The migraine pains are ALWAYS on his right side because of that. As retaliation Jelani trapped them in a tree that to this day still exists and is still very trapped and went very insane from the isolation. Since they're basically a tree they can't move or do much of anything, that tree is pretty deep in the earth in a chamber. But before being trapped they cursed him so that's where the nyctophobia, sleep paralysis, insomnia, sleepwalking and his creepy stalker/attacker that'll torment him comes from, it's the most a common god could do to a Maker, give them a break. But after that Jelani just vanished, he figured the rest of them would all just kill themselves fighting over a throne that was rightfully his so he just left them to it and went dormant in energy form.

So now skip all the fuck way to Norway in 870 CE and he's born (I usually refer to this as reincarnation. Whether it's accurate or not I ain't got a clue tbh). He has zero memory of anything from the before and has probably a little less than 2% of his actual power and abilities as well as having a fail safe. Anyway, it wasn't until he was a teenager that his old self was kinda of resurfacing that it all came crashing down on him. When the old self sort of popped up it was sort of like a beacon for the curse to find him and it did and it's been with him since. Sometimes he can handle it, sometimes he can't. Sometimes he can just deal with it, sometimes he ends up in the E.R. because it's that bad. The insomnia has gotten so bad he's actually agreed to chemically induced coma but that doesn't solve the issue and kinda makes some shit worse.

🖋 This little shit actually made a blood pact with a lesser demon and let them attach themself on him. The demon may or may not have gotten a bit attached to him. They totally did and he may have most likely let them fuck him because why not. Anyway, when the blood pact was done the lesser demon got a huge surge of power and they were instantly hooked on that feeling so they attached themselves on him for a year and a half. Jelani on the other hand didn't mind though he found himself to be a bit hyper while in said state. After that year and a half the demon unattached from him due to growing weak. Since they and Jela weren't aware of his actual nature they didn't realize that Jela was far more powerful and was in fact slowly killing them so they left. Every so often it pops up around and kind of siphons off him. He's very aware of what they're doing and he's okay with it as they helped him at one point.

*I'm actually writing a short where this lesser demon popped up for the first time and why Jelani made that blood pact.

🖋 Okay so I mentioned before that before Jelani finds out what the fuck he really is his powers and abilities are at 2% but the thing is he's only been able to use/discover like maybe 0.7% of it.

He can summon a weapon and make it mimic any weapon of choice he wants. Bow and arrow, sword, dagger, what have you. The default for it is a glaive as his mother's tribe mainly use glaives. However, the weapons all look weird as the material is of a strange origin and is so black that it looks like it sucks in light.

He also has a go to ability that he uses mostly when he wants to be cruel. He whispers some sort of chant and whoever hears it falls into an obidient hypnosis like state. Thing is the person is fully aware of what they're doing but cannot stop themselves from doing whatever Jelani orders them to do. After he releases them the victim is left in a state of hysteria at best or brain dead at worst. No one, not even he, knows what the language whispered in that "spell" is. 1. He's never heard it before and 2. No one can hear it without falling victim to it, not even a recording of it is safe.

Another thing is the fail safe. If he's in extreme and by extreme I really mean beyond reason kinds of panic he blacks out and shifts form to his original form to handle whatever threat. He blacks out because of the energy it takes for him to shift. After he finds out everything and unlocks his abilities in full he'll be able to do it at will without blacking out.

Also his eyes. Neutral the iris are their regular shade of light blue, angry or as a way to display aggression they glow red. If he's really pissed the fuck off his pupils change to a rectangle shape (think sheep, goats and horses). He has a lot of trouble controlling this but has been able to through the years except when he's pissed the fuck off.