#Dark wasn't taking Anti seriously!

[foxtamer113]

This is so cool!!!

It even has a dash of Darkstache, in my opinion. ^^

[armpirate]

Anti-romantic || JJk | Ch. 19

Pairings: Boxer!Jungkook x fem!reader || Enemies to lovers, neighbors

Genre: smut, angst, fluff, curse, illegal boxing, violence

Warnings: fuckboy!Jungkook x reader, smut, dirty talk, curse, mention of tarot and fate

Summary: Jungkook had always been carefree when it came to love. He always believed he was worth sharing himself with everyone, and thought it was selfish of him to ever think of keeping himself exclusive to just one person.

And maybe that was exactly what got him into the big problem he was in.

A curse that kept him away from love didn't seem an issue for him. The fact that his ex-girlfriend thought he'd be affected by the idea of the girls he slept with running away from him after sex was ridiculous. She actually did him a favor, and took a burden away from him.

At least that was what he thought at first.

He had never found himself thinking of the possibility of repeating with neither of his hook ups, because they disappeared before he was able to even think about it. But when he makes the mistake of sleeping with the sexy neighbor that lives in front of him, he finds himself hoping to get the chance for a second round every time their paths cross.

Y/n hated him the second he set foot inside the building by the way he started making her life a miserable mess for no reason. Sleeping with him was a big mistake she wasn't thinking of repeating. At least not until he came up with the excuse that she rejected him for a curse. Not only she thought he was annoying, but she was also convinced he was crazy. 

There was no way she could take him seriously.

Aprox. time of reading: 13 minutes

Previous || Next

MASTERLIST

Those four days were like hell.

It didn't matter how many times they came across each other on the common landing, or how he tried to smile at her every time their eyes met. Her answer was always the same: silence. Putting all of her strength to simply ignore him and just be as friendly as she could, while trying to fight that side of her that was urging her to make a comment that'd unchain the bickering between them like it had been happening since he moved into the building.

She was convinced she needed to get out more. It could be that sudden need only came from the fact that she could be feeling lonely, which was a relief for her. At least that was better than even thinking of her liking Jungkook somehow.

Her steps were stopped as she approached Donna, Alma and Jackie, regretting her decision on getting closer to them as soon as she was getting herself to do it. She had already tried many times before, and it was always the same thing. It wasn't that she didn't like them, she just wasn't able to click with them, there wasn't anything they could have in common. But being fair with herself, there was nothing she had in common with the group of friends she hung out with when they were able to.

—Oh, Y/n —Donna called her from afar, lifting her hand to motion her to walk to them—. Come sit with us. We're taking a sip of coffee.

As usual...

One thing about Donna, Y/n would never find her at her desk, she was always in the cafeteria or somewhere in the resting areas of the office -which made her wonder how she managed to write her articles, and do her research when she never worked in her workplace.

Not like it mattered, but it just made her curious.

—Look who's joining our dark side —Jackie giggled, smiling so wide that she could see her light pink gums.

—Well, I'm quite busy usually —Y/n answered, carefully sitting on the free chair in front of Donna—. I'm currently working on some coverages, I'm also still working on my article...

—Oh right, the one you couldn't tell anyone about? —Donna interrupted her, smiling.

—Yeah, that one —Y/n nodded.

—How long has it been since you started working on it? I guess they should be hurrying you up to publish it —of course she was going to drop that type of comment.

—Well, I'm taking my time. I've had some problems getting inside the biggest issue...

—Maybe you should change it and write about something else —Y/n's tongue was trapped between her lips when she was interrupted by Donna's advice filled with poison—. It's just an advice from a more experienced colleague —she tried to justify when the other two glanced at her.

—Don't drop it —Alma encouraged her—. Were you given a due date?

—No, no —her head shook—. I was even told to take my time to make it as perfect as possible.

—Then that's it! —Jackie clapped— Take it easy. And if you need help, just tell us. I'm good with photographs, so if you ever need a good shot, just let me know.

As much as Y/n was grateful for Jackie's kindness, she couldn't imagine her and her colorful clothes among the type of crowd that was formed by those boxing parties.

—Yeah, we're here to help —Alma seconded—. I know we didn't get close, but we love to help and enlighten you whenever you need it —she assured, placing her hand over Y/n's—. And Donna can also help you, right?

—Right —she forced a smile—. Of course.

There was no lie in admitting Donna was forced to say she was going to help, when at first she just wanted to mock Y/n -for some reason she didn't care about-, but there also was no point in focusing on that when two people she never gave a chance to were being so nice and good to her after barely spending any time together, despite sitting two desks away.

After that, she was able to look at the rest of the day in a different way, she felt happy, her mood went through a high boost after talking with Jackie and Alma, and not only because they encouraged her to go on with the article -which she had no idea how she'd continue writing after she dumped Jungkook. She also felt like a whole new possibility was opened after speaking to them, like she had a new place to go to whenever she felt like work was getting to the best side of her. It made her feel like she drew a safe line between them and her because she felt attacked, when they both were accepting and friendly.

It was amazing the effect one small detail could have on the other things. She didn't care about how crowded the subway was, or how tired she felt to walk back home, she just didn't mind it.

Just like she didn't mind finding Jungkook waiting for her in front of her door, while he stared at her doormat.

He was going insane.

Jungkook couldn't understand what was happening, but he was sure he couldn't go on that way. If anyone else had told him before that he'd be looking for someone else's attention, waiting for the exact time to meet up with her, he'd have cackled in the loudest way possible.

It was so bad that even Jimin noticed the change in him.

Normally, his attitude was chill and careless. Their dynamic worked because his friend was too emotional, and Jungkook was the one that lacked that sense. His nickname as they both grew closer together was Iron Man, but those few days he walked around like he was missing something.

He kept checking his phone, for no logical reason -because the only times Y/n had texted him was to tell him to lower the volume or shut up. But he still looked every once in a while, thinking her message would find its way into his device.

He was missing her, and he just couldn't accept it. Jungkook needed to solve it all out before it went worse, and the only way to sort it out was to have her going back to her petty responses and bad looks. He was convinced the only real problem was the fact that he wasn't the one rejecting her. That was it.

—What are you doing there? —she sounded tired, dropping the smile that adorned her face the second she set foot outside of the lift.

—I need to talk with you.

—Again? —she sighed— What is it now? They'll come to check your router? Will the plumber show up?

—Seriously? I come to speak with you and you only think that I want something from you? What image do you have of me?

—The image that you earned with passion —she answered immediately after.

Jungkook looked away, tilting his head as he tried to find the words to speak. Sentences were mixing together, the sounds were rolling around his tongue, and he was sure that he wasn't going to be able to form a proper phrase while she looked at him that way.

—Okay, then —she finished, turning to her door to open it.

Jungkook stopped her from closing the door behind her by speaking again, placing his palm on the exterior door knob, earning another exhausted sigh from her.

—You can't ignore me.

—Excuse me? —she chuckled, raising both of her eyebrows at the order.

—We're neighbors, you just can't act like I'm not living next to you.

—Unfortunately, it's a reality. That's why I have no other choice but to pretend you aren't there.

—I know I've done things wrong, but... let's make it up?

—No —she firmly said, crossing her arms on her chest.

—Is this because of the article? I told you I was going to do it.

—It's not because of the article, it's because of the way you dealt with the whole thing —she confessed—. You just can't ignore people when you don't want to do something, you speak with them. That's what adults do.

—So would you have accepted my decision if I had told you that I didn't want to help you? —he fought back— You mean you wouldn't have acted annoying and petty about it.

—No —she answered again—. I probably would've get mad. But I would have been on the wrong because I can't force people into doing things I want —she explained—. That's not the problem now, because you always find a way to make me mad and make it valid.

—Y/n...

—Didn't you want me to leave you alone? —she cut him off— I'm leaving you alone. Live your life, do your things... But don't bother me or I'll make you regret it —she threatened, pointing her index finger at him—. Get lost now.

—How can you tell me to get lost?

—Well, like I've just done it now —she shrugged—. It's a two-word sentence, pretty simple to say and understand.

—Okay, I'll tell you why I didn't want to do the article.

—That's literally not what I said —she mumbled.

—... but you can't judge me.

—Too late —she rested her arm on the door frame.

—This goes back to some time ago —he exaggerated the move of his hand—. An ex, that wasn't really an ex, cursed me. She promised I wouldn't have a stable relationship, and it had been working until now. I went to a tarot reader, and she confirmed everything that was happening, until she told me that a woman would come to break the curse. She said that I'd fall for her after she appeared, and told me that it'd be made through some work. You showed up in the middle of nowhere, you're the only woman who's still in my life when the rest of the flings disappear the morning after, and you're the only one I was going to do some work with.

Y/n completely lost the plot of the story at the mention of a curse. She couldn't believe he really believed she was going to fall for such a lame story. But it was even crazier that he spotted her as his savior, or the person that would break the curse. What fairytale did he escape from?

—So I wanted to avoid you, because I didn't want that change to happen —he continued—. I'm really happy with the way my life is going right now, okay? I don't need anyone to put everything upside down.

—Wow, you're really creative with excuses —she tilted her head—. Ever thought of leaving boxing and becoming a writer?

—I'm telling the truth.

When she was going to speak, he sighed loudly, throwing his head back while causing her eyes to open wide in surprise to the sudden sound coming from him.

—Okay... —she smiled nervously— So how does that curse break? With a real love kiss? Maybe a magic spell? Oh, I know, the power of love!

—It doesn't seem like you're taking it seriously.

—Look, I don't know what excuses you've made up to get girls to forgive you, and I have no idea how they could've worked, but all of this is a bit too much.

—I'm being honest.

—Sure you are —she shrugged.

—And it's also an explanation why you reject me every single time.

—Because your attitude can't be a valid explanation to you —her eyes squinted at his comment.

—It now makes sense!

Y/n just couldn't go past the fact that Jungkook did in fact believe the story he was telling her, and even was able to find some sense in something that seemed to be taken out of the wildest fantasies he could've read about -if he had read any book at all. At first she just thought he was recurring to his long list of excuses to justify his actions, and that only made her angry, with the only wish to crash the door against his face while he spoke. But the longest he went, the more she was convinced that the man in front of her needed psychological help. Urgently.

—You're scaring me a bit —Y/n admitted, looking around for the nearest exit to ask for help in case she'd need it.

—It's weird you slept with me a second time, but I guess the curse works differently since we see each other every day? Now it's one of those moments where I wished Carly didn't block me so I could ask her —he kept thinking out loud, moving his eyes away from her and losing the focus of the conversation.

—That many blows on your head have officially fucked up with your sanity —she mumbled, seeing her neighbor having a full on conversation with himself—. Instead of wasting money on a tarot reader, why don't you pay for a good therapist?

—Y/n, it's serious. My ex-girlfriend went crazy after I cheated on her —Y/n scoffed at that detail—, which isn't relevant now, and she cursed me before leaving my house. What was what she said? —his eyes moved to the top of his head as he tried to bring back the exact words Carly used— Something that I treated people badly, and that I was going to suffer the same thing or something like that.

—Are you hearing yourself? How do you pretend me to believe you, for fuck's sake? —Y/n insisted, controlling her big wish to roll her eyes in front of him.

—How many times have I lied to you?

—Do you really want me to answer that question? —her ironic tone was challenging, making Jungkook regret that question almost immediately.

—I promise I'm telling the truth.

—Okay, let's say I believe you. What do you want me to do with that information? —her lips puckered, before she continued speaking— Everything's okay, and everything you do is valid, only because you were cursed for not being able to keep your dick in your pants?

—But...

—You were cursed because you are a fifteen year old trapped in the body of a twenty six year old, and you aren't able to keep a woman exactly for that reason.

—Well, look who's talking, are you going to call me immature? You?

—Are you going to attack me?

—No, I'm saying that someone that drills a hole in a wall, because of a little noise, can't speak of others.

—A little noise?

—You're just as immature as me, but you disguise it with that serious facade thinking you're fooling anyone. Spoiler alert: you don't.

—Spoiler alert? See how you're a horny teenager? The only reason you don't want to commit to a relationship is because you have the Peter Pan syndrome.

—Here comes the smart ass with her bit of information taken from the short research she does for her articles... And what if I have the Peter Pan syndrome?

—You're nearing thirty, as much as it hurts you.

—I know, and do you know how attractive that is to women? I'll be a bomb when I turn forty.

Y/n rolled her eyes again, almost giving up the argument because there was no way any bit of common sense would kick inside his brain.

—I can't believe I'm trying to have a serious conversation with you right now.

—Because you like me, as much as it hurts you —he mocked her—. And the only reason you're willing to believe the curse thing is because you want to give me a free pass.

—No, the only reason I'm pretending I believe you is because I don't know if you're going to have a psychosis and do something crazy.

—Look who's coming up with an excuse now —he chuckled.

At that point her hand was tickling, reviving how it'd feel if she crashed her palm against his face. She could lie and justify herself by saying she did it in her defense because her neighbor's brain wasn't working right, which at that point wasn't really a lie.

—You could only wish. At the end of the day, I'm not the one scared of falling —she defended herself.

For the first time, Jungkook was the one nervous and speechless, opening his eyes a bit wider and parting his lips to speak, but not letting a word come out from them.

—You're sure because you haven't spent enough time with me.

—That means I'm so attractive that you fell for me barely spending any time together?

—No, that's not what I meant.

—But that's what you said —she rushed to say, keeping him from going on speaking.

—I'm sure that if I spent more time with you, I'd probably end up sick of you.

—Yet you had the chance, and you didn't take it. That's a bit contradicting —she fought back.

She left him stuck, between two options that he couldn't escape. One was a lie, and the other one was the brutal truth, and he was still fighting to confirm what belonged to each one of them.

—Don't worry though. There's no way I'd ever spend any more time with you than what we already did.

Y/n shouldn't have tempted the universe that way, and dragged it to a challenge that she wasn't going to like.

Not even a second after that sentence left her filthy lips, a huge noise interrupted their casual bickering, making them wonder what was happening. 

Taglist: @jk97bam @ttanniett

[bluemooniegif]

Sorry if you have already talked about this but do you think Dazai’s bandages are to cover sh scars or something like that or something else like a traumatic injury. I have always assumed it was sh but my friend pointed out that he has said repeatedly he doesn’t like pain. Idk but thoughts would be appreciated :)

I have definitely talked about this before, but I forgot where or when, so let's go for round two!

CW for Dazai-typical suicide & self harm mentions

The fact that Dazai's bandages are such an obvious part of his character design, yet are rarely discussed, is absolutely intentional. As far as I remember, they're never even mentioned in the anime (except for moments such as when Chuuya calls him a walking waste of bandages), so it makes a lot of sense for everyone to be curious about what lies underneath.

Most people's minds go directly to self-harm scars, because duh, Osamu Dazai is the poster boy for mental illness. But then we think, wait... he doesn't like pain? He bitches and moans about it so much, in fact, that it casts a lot of doubt over the idea, and we end up back at square one.

Could it be because of No Longer Human? So he doesn't accidentally touch someone and activate his ability? This is honestly one of my favourite headcanons ever, and very plausible, considering that we don't actually know all that much about how NLH works... like why is it that Dazai can't control when it activates, for example? Everyone else can activate and subdue theirs, so it's got to have something to do with the fact that NLH is an anti-ability.

ANYWAY. Despite all this, there is actually an explanation of what he's hiding under there! It exists within the first few pages of Dark Era, but wasn't included in the anime adaptation. It's such an offhanded, throwaway thing, I don't blame people for missing it (side note: I wanna take the opportunity to remind you that Dark Era is mostly written from Oda's perspective!)

So yes, this is solid proof that there are scars he's hiding under there, but the question then becomes how he got them. We get a few examples on the following page:

Now, this is so ridiculous it's funny, and teetering on the edge of impracticality. If you've read No Longer Human, you'll immediately recognise this as clowning- Dazai is purposefully acting this way to detract from the seriousness of the situation. While yes, he's talking about serious injuries, and even admits to trying to kill himself, he does it in such a way that you just want to laugh.

So can we take these claims seriously? Is Dazai telling the full truth? There's no way for us to know, at this stage. But here are our options:

He is telling the truth, nothing more or less

He's partially telling the truth: owning up to the injuries, but not exactly how he got them

He's lying about the injuries and how he got them

Honestly, I think we can write off the third option, because the way Oda talks about his scars in the beginning makes me think he's perhaps seen some of them before. This makes sense when we consider The Day I Picked Up Dazai, in particular.

There's also something to be said about the nature of Dazai's job; I think it'd be remis of me not to mention it when Oda does. How much is he actually expected to put himself in harm's way? How much unnecessary danger does he put himself in- how much of this is actually self-harm? We may never know, but it's interesting to think about!

[blairdii]

it’s the funniest thing to me that everyone supports an underdog driver till they actually perform exceptionally well.

take lando for example. he was the fan favourite when he had the midfield car, and was still consistently getting podiums or finishing in points. the second he got his first win, so many people switched and forced an egoistic attitude personality on him without even knowing if he’s got such an attitude or not. and then, everyone ran with it. so it became that when he celebrated his wins, he was egoistic, and when he didn’t celebrate his wins, he was ungrateful.

franco is one of lando fans’ fav, because franco reminds us of lando a lot. while he is loved right now, other fans would switch up on him soon and then force an image on him because it fits their narrative.

people hate on lando because of an image they added themselves, but not because his driving, because his driving is actually good. it’s beautiful.

and till the time, people were happy with their fav winning and their fav loving this little underdog dude. now that this underdog dude is defeating their fav and their fav still loves this little underdog dude, people can’t handle it, as if it’s a crime committed against them.

idk where i went with it, im sleep deprived.

sincerely,

your wyr anon

i have so much to say about this issue.

branching off of this post, which captures the entire saga perfectly, i think max fans see lando an inferior, lesser than. granted, lando doesn't have as many wins, doesn't have a wdc yet, but i'm talking 'he must always stay beneath max because that's where he belongs'. it very much boggled me when people started liking lando all over again when the contention (that wasn't even contention since mclaren weren't aiming for it in the first place; lando just so happened to be that good that he was crawling his way up and suddenly the were fighting not only for the wcc, but half-heartedly for the wdc too) was over in las vegas.

this is why i do not take any max fan seriously. i watched them batter this man to pieces in every post they made, wish death upon a man that didn't even do shit, just for them to do a whole 360 and claim they 'like him again'.

saying that he bottled the championship, which is genuinely the most deranged, degenerate thing i've heard because to bottle something, you actually have to be in the advantageous position (read: p fucking 1). which he never was. so this definitely told me that a) people were very much not smart enough to know the meaning off the word 'bottle', and b) they were all just leeching of what each other had said and posting it because they have no competent bone in their body to be independent.

ruined him so bad just for it all to be over something so stupid, for all of his antis to hop off the hate train only because he's not challenging max; it's like they forget the fundamental of this sport, which is competition. max is not always going to dominate, seeing as how many strong prospects are now coming to the grid (and are also having their time to shine after being in the dark for so long). and they need to find some other way to manage that frustration because it's irritating to watch them take lando's words out of context just villainise him.

now, could you argue that all of is this due to the fact that lando had been in a midfield car for so long, that now he has a competing car for basically the first season, people are outraged that someone with no winning experience placed so high? maybe. very much all ifs and buts, but i'm leaning more towards the idea that they just can't believe someone who doesn't act like your sterotypical 'wdc' can contend, or even win it.

proof is in the pudding (twitter, tumblr, instagram). they will yield lando's mental health, the fact that he's so self-critical, the fact that he practised sportsmanship and gave oscar the sprint win, to call him unready, soft, 'mentally weak' to quote some. but then they'll switch up when lando's finally confident about his performance calling him stuck up and egotistic.

max fans are the biggest cowards when it comes to accepting that their fave is, in fact, not untouchable, not the weird god they make him out to be. so they find the need to result to lying about lando to deal with it, and since everyone just acquiescents to it all, other drivers' fans that aren't even affected but just need to hate someone, end up joining the bandwagon as well.

and i fear the same will happen to franco. i've always had it nipping at the back of my mind, because everyone loves him right now. yes, he's in a shit car, and there's nothing he can do about that, but the second he'll starting showing up and properly competing, the fabrications people will hold against this man are inevitable. so many fans do not realise that because you're in a shit car, does not mean you're a shit driver, and that that your results are very limited depending on how inert the car is. hence, they're clouded by that image they've already got about the driver. when franco gets into a team with a better car, they'll still see him as the underdog and think he's unworthy how high he'll place (like we all know he will).

[sleepy-writes-stuff]

DP X DC WRITING PROMPT #2

(Well this is surprising. Not really sure if this idea will make any sense, but here we go.)

(#) = Notes at the end of post

(*) = Just me building off of other ideas

✦

Danny, as Ghost King, gets summoned by the Legion of Doom(?) to help end the Justice League. Except for this summoning fic, they literally summon him off of a GIW lab table where he was being experimented on. Danny is bleeding, barely conscious, and having a really horrible time. This garners a split reaction. Some villains, while surprised, are indifferent. Others are horrified. Not really sure which villains would be which except maybe Lex Luthor(1).

When Danny gets patched up, Lex learns later on that day that he's one of the people responsible for helping pass the Anti-Ecto Acts. However, he only helped passed it to get the people who kept sending it to finally desist, thinking it was all a hoax/big joke and that it wouldn't really matter in the long run. Now he knows it wasn't just a big joke and now that he sees the results of that decision, he regrets it.

While the Legion of Doom isn't short on medical supplies, it's not a great environment for healing, villain or not. Plus, he's kinda useless for the reason he was summoned if he's this seriously wounded. So, he does something he's never done before. He tips off the Justice League about the injured teenage monarch and skedaddles back home and out of the way where he can also start figuring out a way to take down the Anti-Ecto Acts.

Meanwhile, Team Phantom (Sam, Tucker, Jazz, and Valerie. Maybe Wes too for extra humor? 👀) finally have a lock on Danny's location now that he's no longer in a GIW facility--they have ecto-signature blocking technology. They all suit up and get there way before the Justice League and have already taken out the villains still in the LoD HQ by the time they show up and are in the process of trying to transport Danny. The League are a combination of surprised, impressed, and concerned. They invite Team Phantom back to the Watchtower so they can help treat Phantom's injuries.

It's here that the League learns about the Anti-Ecto Acts and what had happened to Phantom to put him in such serious condition. Outraged, a team is organized to hit any GIW facilities and free any citizens of the Infinite Realms while Batman and a few others stay behind to help dismantle the Acts. Team Phantom manage to get the League to agree to have at least one of them on each team they send out, since they have more experience dealing with the GIW and ghosts alike.

With the combination of the League and Lex Luther (unknown to them), the Anti-Ecto Acts are dismantled and the captured ghosts are freed and Danny is all healed up, though still traumatized. His friends help him deal with it--Jazz plus Black Canary are especially invaluable in his psychological healing process. Meanwhile, the JL are incredibly impressed with how knowledgeable and well-trained they are for having no mentors to teach them. Even more so once they hear all the battles they've fought along side Phantom.

The JL come to a decision. They invite all of Team Phantom to join Justice League Dark, the JL subdivision for magic/the occult. After talking it over, they all agree to join.

✦

Thats where it ends unless you wanna continue it from there.

Notes:

(1) Which villains do you think would be sympathetic to Danny's condition? I don't know any of them well enough to pick. Do you think Lex Luther would actually feel sympathy for Danny? Small redemption arc? Do him and Danny meet again at some point on somewhat good terms?

(*) Maybe continue it with reactions from the Team from Young Justice? Maybe they're upset that some out of town teenagers got a JL invitation before they even got theirs? In response the JL have Team Phantom meet and train with Team YJ to get them to realize why exactly they were invited to join.

[ageingfangirl]

You're My Secret! (Eunhyuk) Super Junior

You were cleaning up your bedroom having cleaned the whole apartment when you feel a pair of hands cover your eyes from behind, making you jump backwards and stifle a scream as a familiar male voice howls with laughter.

'Don't fret, it's just me!' Eunhyuk laughs.

You remove his hands and punch him in the chest, 'you asshole, wear a bell or something next time you decide to sneak up on me.'

Eunhyuk grabs you around the waist, and dips you back before kissing you quite passionately, 'I think you'd suit a bell more y/n. Now give me some love.'

As much as you wanted to kiss him back and sleep together, you had bigger fish to fry, and Eunhyuk turning up out of the blue had thrown a wrench in your perfect plan. You push yourself out of his embrace and shake your head.

'You need to hide, my brother's coming over any minute now,' you hiss.

Eunhyuk's eyes widened, Heechul was his best friend and groupmate as well as being your big brother, who was very protective and anti-any relationship, especially with any member of Super Junior. Heechul could be a big cuddly goofball, but you didn't want to see his angry side because it had made many of your dates growing up cry like little babies, and you feared what he'd do to Eunhyuk if he found out.

'Hey sis, where are you?' Heechul calls out from the lounge.

In a panic, you open your wardrobe and all but shove Eunhyuk inside and slam the door shut, 'I'll be out in a second brother.'

Walking into the lounge you embrace your brother and prey Eunhyuk stays hidden. Though you got a kick out of hiding him just like he hid the many girls that came before you, maybe he could use this time as reflection.

TIMESKIP

Thankfully Heechul didn't stay too long, he had some things to drop off from your parents before having to go deal with his own business. You close the front door and lock it, peeping through the peephole watching until your brother got in his car and pulled away.

'I like being your dirty little secret Miss Kim,' Eunhyuk whispers in your ear, making you jump back into his chest, but he simply picks you up and carries you towards the bedroom, 'now shall we pick up where we left off?'

You wrap your arms around his neck and kiss him, 'Oh I know you're getting a kick out of this, sometimes I question you.'

One day you hoped you could share your relationship with your brother, but Eunhyuk had to prove that he loved you and wasn't just using you. Eunhyuk was taking your secret relationship seriously and Heechul was slowly noticing small changes in his friend he approved of. Just how much longer you had to hide in the darkness you had no clue.

[halloworhorecrux]

Fic idea

10 years after the battle of hogwarts, Auror Harry James Potter comes home to the child at his doorstep (Jaime)

Jaime was raised by a paranoid DLM

He did not have access to the Malfoy accounts and is hunted by death eaters and regular wixen alike.

Jaime is a menace to society. He can pick locks the muggle way (as well highly illegal wixen ways). He has combat training because Draco's wand is suseptible to expelliarmus (thanks, Potter).

Harry tries to bond with him but all Jaime wants to do is break into his office and look at crime portfolios, he has also broken into the holding cells and interrogated a suspect, though Harry cannot prove it but Harry knows. Just like he knew when Draco was up to something, only now he can't prove it. Curse his genes for getting away with things.

Harry is sent into a remote location when Hermione pings him that Jaime is missing from her home, and no, she doesn't know how they did it.

Harry is ready to return home when Jaime pops up out of nowhere with "Don't bother, I stole your broom and cloak, do better wards dad"

Then he starts drawing with chalk ...

"Jaime, right now is not the time for your doodles, and you are soooo grounded. Then whoosh, an anti apparation ward is placed on the compound"

Okay, but hold that thought, and he runs and leaps onto the roof.

Somehow, they knock everyone out

Jaime seems to be fine, so Harry thinks he can call back up only to return to Jaime punching a man yelling, " Where is my father?" Kick to the groin* pathetic then on to the next guy

Sigh they are able to find Draco Malfoy and Harry is equal parts raging mad that he had a child and stunned at how affectionate the duo are.

Only when they are supposed to return and auror are like aren't we arresting Draco Malfoy and Harry is like "No."

Aurors : no?

Harry: No!

Aurors: ahhh no we didn't see the wanted criminal snuggling the child that is apparently yours. Cheers

Draco whispers to Jaime then faces Harry "Take care of our offspring Potter, I'll return for him" then he disapparates

Harry is, of course, ready to wring his neck while Jaime is just like, " So glad you're mad at Father instead of me "

"Oh no you are still grounded until forever "

Right so wanna race home?

We are a half days ride from home, Jaime.

" What I'm hearing is your scared to lose, understandable, father always said you weren't up to the hype "

Gritting his teeth because, seriously, this is a child, Harry is a grown man

They race home and Harry wins but only barely

Jaime wasn't actually racing he just wanted to have fun with his dad of course he couldn't just ask like a normal person, he is half Malfoy.

Anyways Draco is on a mission to rescue his mother. The person holding her hostage is Lucius as a horcrux for the Dark Lord.

Poor Lucius has to die 😢 Sorry, for the spoiler

[goobleck0]

hi okay a friend sent me a twitter post of yours and i just HAD to send you an ask. im not gonna say my account but i personally identify w/ the profic label and am active in the proship community, so ignore my ask if you'd like, but i am genuinely just. so curious.

in the post im referring to, you say that you wish that portraying toxic and/or abusive relationships in fiction wasn't stigmatized by proshippers writing about them with sexual intent, because they are extremely interesting to explore. but i'd like to inform you that that actually is what proshipping is! and especially profic. i consider proship as more of an anticensorship identity than anything else - ship and let ship, live and let live, write and let write.

of course, many do write sexual things w/ those relationships, but i don't see why that's a bad thing. i assume that you mean that profic writers writing about sexual concepts poisons the public perception of these abusive relationships, but i don't think that's a fair perspective. puritans will always be puritan, no matter what you are doing. you can't appeal to them enough to be good enough for them - you just have to be yourself.

if you just generally see writing something for sexual gratification bad, then i can't agree at all. that would be a very puritan perspective and actively harmful to free speech and the freedom to write what you desire. and, really, THAT is what proshipping is. it just so happens that many people desire writing things with sexual themes. that's just how people are - sexual themes are interesting in the same way that dark themes are, as a facet of the range of human experience. it might surprise you to learn that a lot of my fellow proship/profic writers who write about sexual themes are actually asexual themselves, and I am on the asexual/aromantic spectrum.

also, i too am autistic, and i too have a fascination with exploring dark themes in media. i consider myself an academic, and i want to become an author in the future. the things that i write now are dark fiction, and they would be considered "proshipping" because they portray dark ships. i never intend to stop writing what i do. i intend to continue writing dark fiction, and to publish it, even if it includes sexual themes, because that is contained within the spectrum of human experience and i believe it is incredibly important to portray. in fact, that would be a necessity to include in stories of many abusive relationships, which often contain degrees of sexual abuse.

if you want to post this, go ahead. if you just read it, that's fine! if you want to reply to it privately you can dm onthelamby and they can put u through to me

I wasn't going to (seriously) respond to this initially, but I agree with most aspects of your take here.

I am a huge on anti-censorship and free speech, always have been. and, I would even consider myself "proship", if the label still meant what it did during its early days. I love to see the portrayal of taboo topics in writing and other forms of art, especially by other victims. but, a lot of the proship community today has made itself into something else entirely, I fear.

as you said, you're profic yourself. and being in the community, it's very difficult to see how it is seen by outsiders. a lot of the proship community that is seen by antis are shotacon, pedos, and things of the like, I don't know the terms... I will give it to you that these people give your community a horrible wrap. the content that these people consume and produce are so damning and make genuine, educational and interesting dark-fiction hard to find for people like me that are into exploring the topics at hand.

I will never be against exploring taboo topics in media, fics where abuse happen, explicit or not, can AND SHOULD be in the mainstream. something like lolita (Vladimir Nabokov), for example, is exactly what I'm talking about, even if this work was misconstrued as something praising the topics at hand. that is what I like to see, that is what should be read and spread around! however, a lot of what I see nowadays are less like lolita and more pornography.

I am not against pornography, but that is not a media that should not explore serious topics. browsing ao3, I often see fics where characters are just abused for no reason other than the idea of the abuse being sexy. that is something I will never, ever support. that is where the stigma comes from, works that explore dark topics in such a way that promote, endorse, and support them.

several people in this community stay in their eco-chambers where they only dig themselves deeper into their trauma by consuming and creating meaningless, nothingburger abuse pornography. I want art, I want things that create a message and spread awareness. I don't want content that purposefully gives even one person the idea that these topics are erotic.

I'm sorry if I repeat myself in this, I don't normally lock in this hard on discourse posts, lol...

[rebar2042]

Some stuffs about A&j, and C&D crossover I wrote on Twitter

folded it bc it's little bit long

_

actor pretends to be a good colleague next to Jackie to take advantage of him, but he plays so well that his advice actually work so well for Jackie<<i want to see this kind of thing.

_

Wanna see injured Jackie asking actor to take him to Henrik's clinic, and actor is so damn suspicious of Henrik....something like that.

Henrik will notice that the actor is not exactly alive and the actor will be very uncomfortable about him.

_

actor saying - I won't let you die even if I sacrifice this damn city.

_

Still obsessed with the tree man actor

When Jackie (knows the actor's ability) asks why he uses explosives to decorate the fight, the actor replies, "Because people like flashy things", but in fact it's because he wants to cover up the terrible things he actually does.

_

I hope the actor is influenced by Jackie and cares about him somewhat sincerely but the result is a twisted and terrible thing Jackie doesn't want.

(It seems to conflict with what I wrote above, so I would like to add that I would like to see the actor stop playing the ideal person and the more he truly treats people, the worse the outcome gets)

_

A: You know, I wasn't taking this job so seriously, but seeing you work so hard made me think differently. That's why I helped you a little harder.

J: You didn't have to kill them, are you out of your mind?!

A: Why are you angry? This gave you time to save the civilian...?

_

Chase and Damien can sympathize with each other's situation, but at the same time they can be each other's walking triggers.

Damien: Haha my sister and I almost got killed by her husband who was possessed by a mysterious being

Chase:

Maybe I just want to see Dark trying to convince Chase to give up the body control and Chase beating the shit out of him

_

Wanna see Dark actually helping Chase but in their weird and violent way

But if Chase doesn't like it, they'll quit. (Or do it secretly)

_

Dark trying to steal Chase's body

sorry I love dark stealing bodies

But I don't think Dark actually succeeds, and I'd like to see them continue to play tricks in the position of Chase's dubious helper.

_

D: If you want to give up your body, feel free to tell me! ^-^)/

Chase knows that Dark isn't morally innocent, but he'll be around them seeing that they're still intact after being attacked by Anti.

He expects them to do something for him, and he's sure they just won't die around him.

[firehologram]

This is a recopilation of Adventure Time episodes that is recommended to watch before Fionna and Cake (up to date to episode 6). Credits where credit is due, I only put this together, and added the season, episode and description when it wasn't mentined in the original post. Also i modified and added some that I find particularly important. Please don't take this post seriously and remember that Adventure Time makes even filler episodes important down the line. Have fun!

Episodes of Adventure Time about Fionna and Cake:

"Adventure Time with Fionna and Cake" [Season 3 Episode 9] - Prince Gumball is captured by the Ice Queen , and it's now up to Fionna to save him.

"Bad Little Boy" [Season 5 Episode 11] - Marceline tells a story about Fionna and Cake to show the Ice King how it's done.

"The Prince Who Wanted Everything" [Season 6 Episode 9] -  The beautiful and sensitive Lumpy Space Prince flees his cruel parents to start a new life.

"Five Short Tables" [Season 8 Episode 9] - Fionna and Cake go on a cooking adventure to push Cake's art to an all-new level.

"Fionna and Cake and Fionna" [Season 9 Episode 12] - An unexpected critic shows up at Ice King's latest Fionna and Cake book reading.

Simon and Betty story:

Cred to: fandomwiki

"Holly Jolly Secrets" [Season 3 Episodes 19 & 20] - Finn and Jake stumble across the Ice King’s video diary and look to uncover his secrets, meanwhile the Ice King tries to get his video diaries back.

"Prisioners of love" [Season 1 Episode 3] - Ice king introduction / Finn and Jake must free themselves and seven princesses from the ice king.

"I remember you" [Season 4 Episode 25] - Ice King visits Marceline to ask for help in creating a song to attract princesses, but Marceline struggles to deal emotionally with his presence.

"Simon and Marcy" [Season 5 Episode 14] - Marceline tells Finn, Jake and Ice king, about her life 996 years during the the Mushroom War.

"Betty" [Season 5 Episode 48] - Ice king reverts to Simon after being exposed to an anti-magic being, and gets help from Finn, Jake, and Marceline in order to get Betty, his former fiancée, back.

"Evergreen" [Season 6, episode 24] - The story of Evergreen, and his young assistant Gunther, during the Cretaceous period, long before the Mushroom War, where they try to keep a major catastrophe from destroying Earth.

"You Forgot Your Floaties" [Season 6, episode 38] - Finn and Jake storm Magic Man's house to rescue his new apprentice.

"Everything Stays" [Season 7, episode 7] - Marceline  looks back on her life on her last day. "Everything Stays" is the second part of the Adventure Time  miniseries Stakes!!

"The Dark Cloud" [Season 7, episode 13] - The final confrontation begins. "The Dark Cloud" is the eighth and final part of the Adventure Time miniseries Stakes!!

"King's Ransom" [Season 7, episode 21] - Ice King suffers a heartbreaking loss and it's up to Finn and Jake to find the culprit.

"Broke His Crown" [Season 8, episode 1] - When Ice King's magic crown goes haywire, Marceline and Princess Bubblegum resort to extreme measures to help him.

"Bespoken For" [Season 9, episode 3] - Ice King weaves a tale filled with drama, romance, and men's fashion. "Bespoken For" is the second part of the Adventure Time miniseries Elements!!

"Skyhooks II" [Season 9, episode 9] - Finn and Lumpy Space Princess work together to unlock one of Ooo's greatest secrets before time runs out. "Skyhooks II" is the eighth and final part of Adventure Time miniseries Elements!!

"Temple of Mars" [Season 10, episode 11] - Searching for answers on Mars, Finn and Jermaine discover that they must first survive a cunning Martian mental trap.

"Come along with me" [Season 10, episode 13] - The fate of Ooo is revealed to two adventurers in the distant future; Princess Bubblegum gathers her allies while Finn and Jake look for a way to prevent the coming Great Gum War against Gumbald and his army; An evil and powerful deity is unleashed upon Ooo. "Come Along With Me" is the series finale. It is the length of four of the show's standard eleven-minute episodes combined.

Distant Lands: Obsidian [Episode 2] - Marceline and Princess Bubblegum journey to the imposing, beautiful Glass Kingdom, and deep into their tumultuous past, to prevent an earthshaking catastrophe.

Cred to Antelope_Some

Prismo Episodes + Farmworld Episodes (purple ones):

"The Lich" [Season 4, episode 26] - Finn is led by Billy on a quest to save the world and beyond from the Lich. First mention!!

"Finn The Human" [Season 5, episode 1] - Finn and Jake chase the Lich through a dimensional portal where they meet Prismo, who tells them that the Lich wished for the extinction of all life. This leads Finn to wish that the Lich "never even ever existed" and the creation of the Farmworld reality.

"Jake the Dog" [Season 5, episode 2] - Jake continues to watch the consequences of Finn's wish within the Time Room with Prismo. As the situation gets worse in the world of Finn's wish, Prismo tries to help Jake make the right wish to save both Finn and the entire world.

"Wake Up" [Season 6, episode 1] - Prismo helps Finn and Jake commit a cosmic-level crime in order to access the Crystal Citadel to meet Finn's father.

"Is That You?" [Season 6, episode 19] - A memorial service for Prismo turns into a resurrecting adventure for Finn and Jake in another dimension.

"Crossover" [Season 7, episode 23] - Finn and Jake crossover into Farmworld Finn's dimension.

Cred to fandomwiki

[cousmemes]

dialogue starters from DOCTOR WHO SEASON 8. feel free to edit for context / continues under the cut.

"I'll wager you've not seen anything like this before."

"Listen to me. You need to calm down."

"I'm not flirting, by the way."

"What have I done wrong?"

"Are you judging me?"

"Just because my pretty face has turned your head, do not assume that I am so easily distracted."

"Whatever it takes, I will keep you safe. You will be at home again."

"I'm cold. There's no point in us both being cold. Give me your coat."

"Are you cross with me?"

"You were talking about me?"

"What is happening right now to you and me is more important than your egomania."

"Nothing is more important than my egomania."

"You've redecorated. I don't like it."

"You can't see me, can you? You look at me, and you can't see me. Have you any idea what that's like?"

"I was being funny. I just do that."

"How long have you been there?"

"Are you going to look that terrified when you take me out for a drink?"

"You were smiling at nothing. I'd almost say you were in love."

"I need you."

"An anti-climax once in a while is good for my heart."

"We cannot waste this chance. It won't come again."

"Isn't the universe beautiful?"

"I think you're probably nice. Underneath it all, I think you're kind and you're definitely brave. I just wish you hadn't been a soldier."

"I don't know if you're a good man. But I think you try to be and I think that's probably the point."

"Old-fashioned heroes only exist in old-fashioned storybooks."

"Do people ever punch you in the face when you do that?"

"Well then, draw your sword and prove your words."

"People are so much better at sharing information if they think the other person has already got it."

"Right, you do that again and you'll regret that."

"We can't just let them kill him!"

"She should not have told you any of that."

"Perhaps others will be heroes in our name. Perhaps we will both be stories. And may those stories never end."

"I wasn't making assumptions about you."

"You just have to squeeze through."

"How did you get in?"

"You know, you should have more than one chair. What do you do when people come round?"

"The deep and lovely dark. We'd never see the stars without it."

"I mouth off when I'm nervous and I've got a mouth on me. Seriously, it's got a mind of its own."

"Tell me the truth - because I know when people are lying to me."

"I am not going to leave you in danger!"

"Sorry, who put you in charge?"

"However this goes, whatever happens, don't let me end up like that."

"They have no power over you now. You can do exactly what you want to do now. Exactly what you've always wanted to do."

"Go and enjoy yourself. Don't do anything I wouldn't do."

"There's no way out of this. We're going to die here."

"Why are you being nice?"

"Every time I see you, it's like you're in a rush."

"The next few days are all about you. I promise."

"Human beings have incredibly short life spans. Frankly, you should all be in a permanent state of panic."

"How can you think that I'm her dad when we both look exactly the same age?"

"He's my boyfriend. I thought you'd figured this out."

"Why wouldn't I be okay? I was fine till you blundered in."

"It's funny, you only really know what someone thinks of you when you know what lies they've told you."

"Please, tell me how I fix this."

"I'm bored. Let's go somewhere fun. What do you say?"

"I know men like him. I've served under them. They push you and make you stronger, till you're doing things you never thought you could."

"Is there some sort of fancy dress thing on this evening?"

"I am so sorry. I've had a wobble. It's a big wobble, but it's fine. Forget about it."

"Where are you and are you in trouble?"

"Lying is a vital survival skill. And a terrible habit."

"Do you want the good news or the bad news?"

"We're in the bad news! I'm living the bad news!"

"Why can't you just say it? Why can't you just say I did good?"

"You are enjoying this just a little bit too much."

"Don't make me say it."

"I don't want to be the last of my kind."

"I don't want to see more things. I want to see the things in front of me more clearly."

"I just want to know the truth. I don't care what it is. I just want to know it."

"Shut up, shut up, shut up. I need to talk to you."

"Oh, everything is better when you're here."

"Please speak to me. This is - this is killing me.

"I love you. And you are the last person who's ever going to hear me say that."

"By now, I'm sure you've heard the rumours, and it is with great sadness that I must confirm them to be true."

"He was alive, and then he was dead and it was nothing."

"Don't. Be very, very careful with that."

"I know what you're doing. You're trying to take control."

"I am in control. Do as you are told."

"I was curious about how far you would go."

"You betrayed me. Betrayed my trust, you betrayed our friendship, you betrayed everything that I've ever stood for."

"Do you think I care for you so little that betraying me would make a difference?"

"Speak for me again, I'll detach something from you."

"This isn't possible. The dead don't come back."

"Be strong, even if it breaks your heart."

"Say something only you could say. Tell me something only you would know."

"Whatever it takes, I will be with you again, I swear."

"So you know who I am, right?"

"Look, are you going to help me? Because I can't do this alone."

"And didn't all of those beautiful speeches just disappear in the face of a tactical advantage?"

"I wasn't very good at it, but I did love you."

"There's something that I have to tell you and, er, it's not good news so just - just listen, okay?"

"Never trust a hug. It's just a way to hide your face."

"Thank you for making me feel special."

[retromotherfuckers]

When the Sun Sets - Part 4

Adriadne

Characters:

adriadne/morgan winchester (OC), dean winchester, sam winchester

Summary:

adriadne finds out who she was before she went to hell. and the winchesters will not rest until they fix what their sister did all those years ago.

Warnings (for entire story):

SPN typical violence, so so much suppressing of emotions, vague mention of SA, depiction of torture, a very pro-torture main character, murder, vague mention of not eating for a while, parental abuse, slight suicidal ideation, SPN typical alcohol abuse, spoiler warning up to the end of season 10, following canon stops after the end of season 2 but things are sure to be mentioned

Word Total:

4k ~ roughly

A/N:

hi, so sorry its been so long, but i finally got the inspiration to continue writing this little mini series. i'm not convinced anyone is still interested in this story, but here's part 4. there's a little hatred towards blondes in this chapter - guys i actually love blonde hair i think its gorgeous - your girl is just a demon. my search history after writing this chapter, god help me.

this takes place loosely around season 10 and i kind of combined when sam tries to cure crowley with when he cures dean.

let me tell you, writing about a person who has no idea what's real is not easy to make good - its a 0/10 for me and i'm not convinced i even succeeded at that

italics = inner thoughts/memories

dean: 36, morgan: 35 (her body is 27), sam: 32

Adriadne vaguely remembered hating the moon coming up when she was human. For some reason, she detested nighttime and all that came with it. She had wanted to believe she wasn't as bad as the humans when she was one. But as she roamed the street of whatever bumblefuck town she was in, she remembered staring blankly at a street lamp once.

It was the only light she had seen for several miles. It illuminated a small bus stop with a bench and a pay phone attached to it. She was in some loud car, with even louder music playing, with her intolerably quiet family. The faces, names, and details of any of them had been long washed away. Somebody in her family needed to make a call, so they stopped, and she was left alone for a few minutes. The yellow beams that kept that area lit were the only thing keeping her from panicking. She had assumed she was only a child in the memory because, I mean, seriously? An adult scared of the dark?

If she had been an adult, Satan help her if she was, it would have been further proof of how weak humans are. Actually, regardless, it was proof. There was no light in Hell. Everything was dark, and only with the sight of a demon could anyone see. She bristled at the thought. Since being on Earth, she had no desire to go back downstairs. 

The darkness of the night did give her a little sense of reminiscence, though. Of home, Alastair, Crowley, her tools. Where she could roam freely without having to cling to that damn sack of flesh. But the daytime was a close second, in her opinion. The sun, as bright and almost blinding as it was, was warm. And it felt…kind of nice.

Turned out, she was a natural blonde, a type of blonde that got even lighter when she lay in the sun. And that rubbed her the wrong way. Like, who was actually blonde nowadays? Every blonde Alastair assigned to her was quickly scalped. And when they were healed, she would do it again. Then, she'd make them drink anti-freeze because many of them had blue eyes. It really had been a fun game.

Watching them die slowly and painfully was always an excellent way to waste an hour. And when they were brought back to life, it was back to her regularly scheduled programming.

It sucked even more that she had blue eyes too. They were so light. Like the human fucking sky or some shit. She liked her black eyes. They were who she was, a dark and malevolent visitor on this planet of fluffy little bunnies. 

At the sound of a whistle, a very loud one, she turned to find the source. "Damn, baby." The man said. He was some random guy on the corner of the street, watching her as she walked. "What's your name?"

She planted a demure little smile like she was so flattered by the attention. With a blush, she said, "Mary."

He smirked. "Are you a virgin, too?"

Imbecile, she groaned inside her head. She had heard that joke back home. It was usually the first thing a demon said when assigned someone with that name. After hearing it for the first time, she chuckled. The second time, she grinned. The fifty-seventh? She ignored it. 

Come up with something new, people, will you?

She flashed some doe eyes at him and pretended to blush even more. "How did you know?"

"I tend to sense these things."

"Oh, do you?" She asked with a grin, flashing her natural eyes at him. But before he could scream, she was slitting his throat.

When the jugular veins are severed, there is a relatively low spray of dark red blood, accompanied by the sound of escaping air, and the human coughs it up. So, to get a forceful spray of bright red, Adriadne's favorite, she cuts the carotid. And usually aims to sever the trachea so they gasp and wither at her feet. And with this guy? She hit the nail on the head.

It only takes a few minutes, but it's such a satisfying death. Being in the land of the living, slitting throats quickly became one of her favorite forms of sending them exactly where they belonged.

When Sam and Dean Winchester caught wind of a case; six hundred sixty-four bodies across the country with a slit throat and the Latin symbol for "hellhound" carved over their right eyebrow, they got on it. They didn't want to let it get to that magic number.

And when they got to the most recent crime scene, Lena Franklin, a thirty-one-year-old female - mother of three - with the same injuries, they found who they were looking for, taking another victim. Only they weren't expecting to find their sister standing over the body.

After knocking her out and locking her up, they summoned Crowley as soon as possible. It was like their lives depended on it, or really, it was their sister's life that they were worried about.

And when he explained the situation to them, they knew what they had to do.

With a whine, Adriadne awoke in a strange room. Filled with walls of file cabinets and Enochian or Latin symbols. She tried to rub at her head, where that damn vase had been thrown at her, but she noticed she was chained down. Usually, she wouldn't have an issue with chains; she could break through steel, and they were so satisfying when some human tried to escape them. But not only were these not steel chains, they were iron. And they had warding signs carved in them.

Fucking hunters.

Surprisingly, if there was any human she didn't entirely detest, it was hunters. They were more robust than the rest and really knew what the real world was like. But they were after her, so now, they had to die. Slowly, bloody, painfully.

"Welcome back, jackass," A voice she recognized said. The same voice threw the vase at her however many hours ago. It was the shorter of the two, but he had the more resounding voice. They were tall for humans, but the other was way bigger. Gigantor also seemed like he was friendlier, the dumbass.

She had heard of the Winchester brothers in Hell. Sam and Dean, she believed their names were. Two brooding brothers with mommy and daddy issues that jumpstarted the apocalypse. Then they fixed it and sent Lucifer back into his cage with Michael. They'd been in and out of hell themselves a few times. The only humans to ever accomplish such feats.

Clearly, they weren't stupid, but goddamn, were they annoying.

Sam was younger but a bit more book-smart, and Dean was the older but sarcastic one. She vaguely knew they had a thing for dying for each other, but that only made her roll her eyes like she so often did at these creatures.

"Dean," Sam scolded.

"And what a warm one at that. You ever have people over?" She groaned. The boys didn't respond, both just shaking their heads. They started pulling stuff out of a cooler, and she read what it said on it with a scoff. "Human blood? You're seriously gonna try and cure me?"

"Yep," Dean deadpanned.

"Oh, please," Adriadne drawled as her head fell back on her shoulders. "Spare me."

"You're a demon, Mo," The youngest said, like it was the worst thing in the world she could be. "We're not just gonna leave you like this."

"Mo? Who the hell is Mo?"

"Morgan," Dean explained, his voice monotone but somehow angry at the same time. "Our sister. The human that you used to be. So we're doing what we should'a done years ago. And saving you. Even if it is from yourself."

"Your sister?"

"Yeah," Sam quipped, annoyed. "Crowley said you wouldn't remember."

"Crowley's the one that-"

"We know," Dean said. "Just shut up."

I didn't even know the Winchesters had a sister, Adriadne thought. But to hell if she wanted to become a damn human. Why would she even consider it? "Ever think maybe your sister wouldn't wanna be saved?"

"Doesn't matter." The oldest Winchester remarked, his voice flat. "You don't get a choice."

With a huff, Adriadne chuckled darkly. "Just let me go do what I wanna do. I don't bother you; you don't bother me. So what the hell do you care?"

"What do we care?" Sam asked, almost dejectedly. He shook his head, not dignifying her with a response, and started pouring holy water around the devil's trap. Reciting the Latin to start the ritual, he grabbed a needle, loaded it up with human blood, and handed it to Dean.

Adriadne looked at her supposed brothers, she didn't even know their birth order. She knew Dean was the oldest and Sam was the youngest. But where did she fit in the lineup? "You got anything stronger in there? Some heroin? Meth? Maybe it'd really make me feel somethin'."

"Don't worry, honey, you're gonna feel a lot."

And before she could fight it, he put the syringe in her arm and pumped the blood directly into her arm. She could feel it coursing through her veins, traveling through her bones, her arteries, her cells. Weaving its way throughout her body like an itch you can't scratch. Involuntarily, she let out a loud roar, a demonic roar, of pain. This damn human blood did not agree with her.

"Look," Sam said as both brothers backed away from her. "We've got a whole bunch more of these to go. You could make this a lot easier on yourself."

"And just in case some part of you gives a crap, we got your blood type."

"You wanna know something?" Adriadne asked, but a new wave of pain from the human blood cut her off. She groaned but wouldn't let it cut her off too long. She was a demon, after all, and pain had never been something she feared. It was something she admired, longed for, craved. "The part of your sister that cared died a long time ago."

Five times, the Winchester brothers had streamlined her with human blood. They didn't say anything when they came in this time, silently injecting her with round six. Like it was the only thing keeping them from breaking.

Adriadne was a demon; she knew that. But now things were becoming a little muddled. There had been small things, small tidbits of images popping in and out of her brain.

They weren't like dreams or nightmares. They were more like poorly done movies of being beaten by someone she was supposed to call her father. Dreams of fighting with her siblings, where even they'd beaten her - but also when she fought back, and they took the beatings themselves. She won and lost over and over, losing the fight when Sam left them for school, winning when Dean tried to get her to stop seeing her high school boyfriend, losing when Dean took away the knife he gave her, and winning when she eventually stole it back. She remembered watching their so-called father yell and scream, practically torturing who she was told were her brothers. She remembered not being able to do anything about it.

She saw herself hunting other creatures - not humans, but monsters. Vampires, werewolves, ghosts, djinns, banshees, rugarus. She saw herself taking beatings from them, nearly dying from her injuries several times. She saw herself lose her virginity to a sweet guy from her high school at the time. She saw herself take that night and turn it into a string of drunken one-night stands.

She saw her father coming home drunk almost every night, beaten up. She saw herself patching him up, giving him stitches when necessary. She'd been the one to set her brother's bones when they were broken or dislocated. She'd have to be the one to reset her own because none of them were as good as she was at it. She saw the woman who was supposed to be her mother burn to death on a ceiling as her older brother - a toddler himself - pulled her and her little brother to safety.

And she remembered her father dying, making a deal with a demon to keep his oldest son alive and breathing. Then she remembered doing the same thing for her younger brother.

"You're the Winchesters," Adriadne drawled. "You're hunters. So am I an idiot to assume what you're gonna do once you realize this won't work? You think you got the stomach for that? Killing the girl you think is your sister?"

"We're not worried," Sam denied. "Because we've done this before."

It had been nine hours, nine injections of human blood in her veins, and she could name nine parts of her body she could barely move. She hadn't felt so useless since she was on the rack, and even then, she had a purpose. To postpone, to make it as long as she could. Alastair had given her a choice. Stay on, deal with the consequences, or get off, and then do it to someone else who deserved it too.

She had been at the end of her rope; her soul was already ripped to shreds. And then they healed her and broke it again.

The humans deserved it - that's what she was taught.

But then, why was I the one on the rack? I'm not human.

Yes, I am. Or...I was.

No. My name is Ad-Adria-

She had been having so many memories over the last several hours. But they had to be dreams; she didn't remember them belonging to her. Of the Winchesters, of growing up on Earth, of being a part of an admittedly screwed-up family.

My name is-

"How you doin', Mo?" That was Sam, her…younger brother, she had remembered. The memories were like a plague, keeping her sedentary in a time she had long forgotten. A time, she didn't know if she wanted to go back to or not. It was a time when she cared about them, about humans in general. A time when she had the ability to care.

Mo. Morgan.

She was confused when they called her that. She didn't know how to describe it. But something was weird about that name. These were people that she knew before she went to Hell. People she loved. People she would've sacrificed everything for. People she did sacrifice everything for.

"It doesn't feel right," She rasped, shaking her head as much as possible. Which, apparently, was not a lot.

"No, shit," And there's Dean.

"When you call me that," She explained, despondent, trying to blink away the new memory attempting to take hold of her reality. "It doesn't feel like my name."

"Well, what is your name?" 

She didn't know. Adriadne was supposed to be her name. Morgan was supposed to be her name. How could someone not know their own fucking name? It was the most basic form of identification. Even demons had names. A new wave of pain hits her, and she grips the chair with all her strength. It wasn't a lot; she was so weak. But then another memory took over, and she wasn't even in that room anymore.

"What is your name?" He had asked, his voice cold and unemotional. The girl only shook her head in response, knowing what was coming with her answer. "You will answer me when I speak to you, girl.

"Morgan," She choked out, tears already rolling. "Morgan Winchester."

"You don't deserve my last name." Before she could blink, her cheek was stinging, and she was on the motel room floor. More tears fell involuntarily at the searing pain, at the blood dripping down her face from his ring. She flinched at the hand he rose again, but no hit came. Instead, he laughed - a heartless and calculating laugh. Like it was amusing watching his thirteen-year-old daughter cower at his feet. "You are no Winchester."

He was ready to strike a second time when someone got in the way. 

"Get out of the way, Sam."

"No," his little voice announced. She could hear the emotion in his words as he continued. The little ten-year-old was scrawny, even smaller than she was. "She knows what she did. You don't have to hit her again."

Ignoring the boy, her father turned back to Morgan, practically looking through her little brother. "So this is what you've come to? Making little Sammy fight your damn battles for you?"

She looked him straight in the eyes; the green they usually held was almost black in the room's dim lighting. She had seen this so many times when he was angry, when a hunt didn't go his way, when his children disobeyed him. When she did something wrong. 

"Boys," Her father called, ordering them to shut up and listen. Dean took his hands away from his face with a wince. Sam winced, too, backing away from his father. Nearly crashing into her. "Take this as a learning opportunity. We fight our own battles in this family. And we don't rely on other people to do it for us." 

And with that, Sam was pushed out of the way, and he was on top of her.

"Dad," She gasped, finally back in the present but staring into space. Both brothers' heads shot up at the recall. "He was- he was mean."

"Yeah," Dean agreed, making her eyes lock on his. The whites of his eyes were red like the mention of his father had him holding things back. A storm was brewing behind his eyes, one he wouldn't let come to fruition. "He had his moments."

"He was so mad all the time," The girl croaked, her voice breaking even more. She was lost, not looking at them. Keeping her eyes down, they darted back and forth as she practically stared through the flesh and bone before her. "Watch out for Sammy. Make sure Sam's safe. Don't let anybody touch Sammy. If anything happens to him, I'll know whose fault it is." Her older brother only nodded, but Sam's eyes fluttered back and forth between his siblings. Like he was realizing something he hadn't before. "We were always watching out for Sammy. Who- who watched out for us?"

"Well, for one, Sammy watched out for us. And I watched for both of you, and you took care of us."

"I took care of you?"

"Yeah, Mo, you did," Sam said plainly.

"But I-I went to-" She denied, not entirely believing them. "I went to Hell, and now I don't know anything. You're my brothers? My family? My family tortured me. They-they're the ones that put me on the rack."

"Is that what they told you?" Sam asked, bewildered.

"I saw it!" She roared. Everything came back to her in waves, and not like a movie this time; these were memories. She knew it; she couldn't question it. "You hurt me- you- you touched me." She finally looked up at them, unable to hide the tears. She shook her head, trying to shake away the red, the blood, the screaming, the agony. "You- you- family isn't supposed to do that!"

Sam and Dean stared, their faces pale and drained. They didn't hide their emotions - like she remembered they did so often. They wore it plainly on their faces. Sam was a mixture of deep regret and sorrow. Dean wasn't just angry; he was simmering with rage.

"Now, you listen to me," Dean ordered, and she could almost hear a trace of their father in his voice. He leaned against the arms of her chair - her current prison - and gave her a stare that kept her captive in his gaze. "I went to Hell, too. They did the same thing to me. It. Wasn't. Us. And I know you don't believe that. But you will. Eventually."

When he finished, she nodded. He was wrong. Some part of her did believe him. The conviction in his words, the way he didn't bother to hide the angry tears in his eyes. Some part of her - a minuscule part - hoped he wasn't lying. That her family was still there for her. That maybe, even after everything that had happened, they would hold her when this was all over. 

At her slight confirmation, he nodded, too, and stepped back, giving his younger brother room for the next shot. Sam came forward and quickly, without hesitation, put the syringe in her arm and pressed down.

"I don't even know my own name."

Sam didn't balk at her words. He just shook his head and gave her a small, barely there smile.

"You will."

"I don't wanna be human," She cried. Eleven injections in, she could feel the human blood becoming her own. Integrating into her bones, her DNA changed with every second that passed. Her power was draining, and she didn't like it. She was returning to who she was before Hell, the young girl with daddy issues, with two brothers who loved her - but could never get along with.

"Humans are weak, they- their emotions, it's too much," She continued, shuddering. "They feel too much, they don't see how useless they are. How- how small they are. There are eight billion of you, and all of you think you're the most important one. You all think you have some fucked up purpose, that there's something more you can do with your pointless little lives."

"No one here is gonna tell you that being human is a walk in the park," Sam said, his voice calm and steady as if he was expecting her to say this. "But it is better than being a demon. Than killing for no reason. Because even if you don't believe it, I believe we do have a purpose. Maybe it's a tiny one, maybe you're just supposed to be here to make someone else happy. Maybe you're here to teach someone a lesson. Maybe you're here to save the world." His words got light at that, like it was an inside joke, and Dean let out a small laugh. But just because you don't know what it is or can't see it doesn't mean you don't have one." 

Before she could respond or give any words to the contrary, he put the needle in her arm and gave her the twelfth shot.

Morgan Winchester opened her eyes. And they were black. She could feel it, feel the remnants of Hell in her eyes. But as quickly as it came, it went. And as they cleared, she groaned. It was a strange feeling, but she felt lighter. Like there wasn't as much weight on her shoulders as before. Her eyes were blue again, like the sky people loved to stare at. Then she remembered she was human again. She was just a young girl again, not a demon, not a monster. 

And then the weight returned. Only this time, it was even heavier, as if someone had tied an anvil around her neck and thrown her into the ocean. She remembered everything. Her life, her father, her mother, her brothers, Sam dying, her dad dying, her deal with a demon, Hell, being tortured, then turning around and doing the same, becoming a demon, becoming Adriadne, taking a joyride upstairs, murdering so many innocents. Then, being in here, the crowded but well-protected safe room in some place she had no knowledge of. 

She could see her brothers a few feet away. Sam stood in front of Dean, holding a flask - their postures were identical. Tight and reserved, with their brows furrowed and their feet cemented into the floor.

Her face contorted into a question, and she greeted them with their names. She didn't know what else to say. But before she could speak again, Dean threw whatever was in the flask at her face.

Water. Water. Water.

And without needing a second to think about it, Morgan realized it was blessed. Holy water. They were putting her through one final test. To see if their work had paid off. When it didn't burn, sizzle, or boil her skin, her brothers let out a deep exhale of relief. Then, so did she.

"Welcome back, Morgan."

[armpirate]

Anti-romantic || JJk | Ch. 44

Pairings: Boxer!Jungkook x fem!reader || Enemies to lovers, neighbors

Genre: smut, angst, fluff, curse, illegal boxing, violence

Warnings: fuckboy!Jungkook x reader, smut, dirty talk, curse, mention of tarot and fate

Summary: Jungkook had always been carefree when it came to love. He always believed he was worth sharing himself with everyone, and thought it was selfish of him to ever think of keeping himself exclusive to just one person.

And maybe that was exactly what got him into the big problem he was in.

A curse that kept him away from love didn't seem an issue for him. The fact that his ex-girlfriend thought he'd be affected by the idea of the girls he slept with running away from him after sex was ridiculous. She actually did him a favor, and took a burden away from him.

At least that was what he thought at first.

He had never found himself thinking of the possibility of repeating with neither of his hook ups, because they disappeared before he was able to even think about it. But when he makes the mistake of sleeping with the sexy neighbor that lives in front of him, he finds himself hoping to get the chance for a second round every time their paths cross.

Y/n hated him the second he set foot inside the building by the way he started making her life a miserable mess for no reason. Sleeping with him was a big mistake she wasn't thinking of repeating. At least not until he came up with the excuse that she rejected him for a curse. Not only she thought he was annoying, but she was also convinced he was crazy. 

There was no way she could take him seriously.

Aprox. time of reading: 25 minutes

Previous || Next

MASTERLIST

Y/n and Jungkook had become ghosts in their shared building. Their once inevitable encounters had turned into silent sidesteps and held breaths. Whenever Y/n heard the soft hum of the elevator arriving at her floor, she hesitated before stepping out of her apartment, ears straining for any sign it might be him. Similarly, Jungkook took the stairs instead of risking a run-in in the elevator.

They both had turned into experts in avoiding the slightest uncomfortable encounter, to the point of both skipping the neighbors meeting that was supposed to update them on the estate of the building. Jungkook had stayed back, headphones on, pretending to play on his computer, but the only thing he was doing was hearing Jimin's complaints by failing each shot because his attention was somewhere else. His ear remained open for any sign of her leaving the apartment. While Y/n, on the other hand, caught sight of any shadow under the door, giving up after waiting for twenty minutes and thinking it was going to be better to just stay at home.

Her mornings had grown quiet. The absence of his calls or texts felt like a constant ache she couldn't shake. Even mundane moments, like walking to the corner store or making coffee, brought back memories of him. She buried herself in work, taking every extra assignment the editor offered, but even that didn't dull the emptiness. He was everywhere she looked at, and even her own house wasn't a safe place. The second she stepped in her room and saw the hole in their shared wall, she had to fight hard not to break up crying.

To that day, she couldn't still understand how he could so easily tell her he wasn't feeling a thing. And, even worse, she couldn't understand how she was the one to fall hard after all the warning signs he represented.

She was still hopeful Jungkook would change his mind and tell her he indeed loved her.

In fact, one evening, she returned to find a note slipped under her door. It wasn't from Jungkook but from an elderly neighbor, Mrs. Johnson, asking for help with her groceries. Y/n agreed, mostly to fill her time with anything other than her thoughts and to move away the dark feeling that would fall upon her the second she was left alone with her thoughts and the chest pain from being in the wrong once again.

As she climbed the stairs with the groceries, her heart sank when she turned the corner and found Jungkook helping in the old lady's apartment, apparently helping her arrange flowers in the small balcony. He looked up briefly, locking eyes with her, but quickly turned back to the flowers, as though she were just another neighbor.

—Jungkook, you're still here —Mrs. Johnson said cheerfully, oblivious to the tension—. Thank you so much for taking a look. I bet they'll grow prettier after you just looked at them.

The answer coming through his head was obviously related to the woman holding the plastic bags, but he held back the compliment, knowing it'd only make things hard for the two of them.

—Thank you, beautiful —the old lady addressed Y/n—. You can leave those bags wherever you want.

—It's no problem —Y/n swallowed the lump in her throat—. I'll leave them in the kitchen —she said, walking towards the narrow room to leave the bags over the counter.

Despite her voice sounding so calm, her hands shook slightly, making it more obvious once she wasn't carrying the light weight of those bags.

The atmosphere was stifling. Jungkook avoided looking at her again, his focus squarely on the vase. After a few minutes of awkward small talk, Y/n excused herself and hurried out.

After Y/n left, Jungkook lingered in Mrs. Kim's apartment, his chest tight. Seeing her again had thrown him off balance. She looked... tired. Was she sleeping? Was she eating properly? He'd seen her fingers trembling as she placed the groceries down, and it broke something inside him. But he couldn't let himself go back. Not now, not after his decision.

—I really thought you two would end up dating —she sighed—. You might have a chance now though.

—Why?

—I haven't told you, but Shannon caught her crying the other day. And she hasn't been leaving the house much. You seemed quite close, you don't know about that?

—We aren't that close...

If only she knew he was actually the person that pushed her to that estate.

—Too bad. You'd make such a cute couple —she coddled him playfully.

He knew that too well.

Jungkook stood frozen in the hallway, his hand hovering near his door, moments away from opening it and crossing it. His heart raced, a mix of anxiety and determination pounding against his ribs.

Jimin's words from earlier echoed in his mind, urging him to stop running from what he truly wanted. His best friend had heard him way too many times drunkenly whining about how he wished things were different. And Jimin usually remained quiet, letting him get out of his chest all the feelings he wasn't able to talk about out loud, until that day. His words, his advice... All of them felt like Jungkook was hit with some sense after refusing to accept it for too much time. If he loved her enough to cry about getting her back, he loved her enough to give up on the only thing that would pull them apart.

Even the old lady from the third floor had also caught him that morning, reminding him with a sly grin, "Sometimes, the best things in life are just one door away, my boy.". Everyone around him was telling him to wake up and give up the nonsense, and maybe it was time for him to listen to others and follow what they had to say.

But now, all his resolve crumbled as he saw Y/n, through his peephole, step out of her apartment.

She wasn't alone.

The man beside her was tall, effortlessly put together in a gray sweater that hugged his broad shoulders. His smile was easy, confident, and painfully charming. And he actually looked the complete opposite of him.

Jungkook's stomach twisted as the stranger placed a hand lightly on Y/n's back, guiding her toward the elevator.

For a brief moment, Y/n turned her head, her laughter ringing softly in the hallway. She looked... happy. And it cut Jungkook deeper than any blow he'd taken in the ring. His jaw tightened, his knuckles turning white as he clenched his fists at his sides. He couldn't tell if the sting was jealousy, regret, or both. Maybe it was the realization of finding out he was never meant to be with Y/n, and she was only part of the karma he needed to pay for all the pain he'd caused others.

As the elevator doors slid closed, he found himself stepping back, retreating to the shadows of his living room. He swallowed hard, the words he'd practiced a hundred times dying on his tongue. Maybe Jimin and the old lady were wrong. Maybe Y/n was better off without him.

But as he turned to sink back in his couch, the ghost of her laugh lingered in the empty hallway, taunting him. How much he missed that sound, and how much it hurted to know he wasn't the cause of it.

Meanwhile, Y/n moved nervously in the elevator, playing with her fingers in front of her while Isaac kept going on about how much he loved the building and her apartment. She thought that, while going with Isaac, she'd barely notice Jungkook's presence, but one quick glance at his door, knowing he wouldn't come out of it, and she felt close to crying her heart out again like she had been doing since they walked away from each other.

—I can tell why you love it so much —he admitted—. And it's so quiet, too. I bet I'll have no problem working from home.

—Oh, not at all —she quickly answered, distracting herself from her own thoughts—. No one bothers you, and the neighbors are amazing. You'll fit in quite fast.

—What I don't get is why you'd leave such a great place.

It took her a few days, but she finally decided it was better to set some physical distance between her and Jungkook. As much as she loved her apartment and refused to leave it when he made her life a living hell, she found no other choice to be able to heal.

—I'm looking for something closer to my workplace —she lied.

When she told her tenant how she was willing to leave, she asked her to find someone to take her spot, at least for the months of difference from the moment she told her until the moment her contract expired. And how could she not do her that favor? She had always taken care of any problem coming up, she had always been attentive to whatever needs that could come to make sure Y/n was comfortable. It was the least Y/n could do for her.

—I'm not sure whether I'll be able to rent it or not, but I'm really interested —he assured her—. Every day I take one hour to go to the office, and another two hours to come back home. I'm sure it'll be better once I move here.

—Let's go eat somewhere to celebrate —she suggested, crossing the main entrance to the building.

—I didn't say yes yet.

—It's a way to attract things —she winked at him—. If we act like you already said yes, it'll likely work in our favor for it to end up happening.

And she could only hope it worked and it actually ended up happening.

The tension between them built over the days, both of them orbiting the same spaces but never colliding. Their neighbors began noticing the shift, but no one said a word. Even Mrs. Johnson muttered under her breath about "young love and stubborn hearts."

One night, as a storm rolled in, a power outage swept through the building. Both Y/n and Jungkook found themselves in the hallway, checking on the neighbors. Their flashlights crossed paths briefly, and in the dim glow, they froze. Neither spoke.

The storm was relentless, with rain hammering the windows and thunder shaking the walls. The power outage plunged the building into darkness, leaving only the faint glow of flashlights to cut through the shadows. Y/n stepped out of her apartment, flashlight in hand, her lips pressed into a determined line as she checked on Mrs. Johnson next door. Jungkook was already in the hallway, his silhouette faintly illuminated as he spoke to one of the neighbors farther down.

Their paths crossed as they turned toward each other, the beams of their flashlights meeting in a narrow strip of light. For a moment, neither of them moved. Y/n's breath hitched, and Jungkook's jaw tightened, the storm outside echoing the tension between them.

—You're still here —Jungkook said, his voice low, laced with something she couldn't place: relief? Frustration?

She couldn't tell.

—Yeah, well... —Y/n replied, tilting her chin upward in defiance— I live here.

He huffed a short laugh, but it lacked humor.

—Guess I thought you might've packed up and left with... —he stopped himself abruptly, the words hanging unfinished but heavy.

Y/n narrowed her eyes.

—With what, Jungkook? —she challenged, her tone sharper now.

He shrugged, stepping closer. The weak light from his flashlight cast a soft glow on his face, highlighting the lines of exhaustion and something deeper, hurt.

—With nothing —he muttered, barely loud enough to be heard over the rain.

The storm raged outside, wind howling and rain battering the windows. The power outage had plunged the building into near silence, save for the occasional shuffle of footsteps in the corridor as neighbors checked on each other.

Neither of them spoke as the moment dragged on, the sounds of the storm filling the silence between them. Y/n was the first to move, trying to ignore whatever it was that. Her day was already hard enough.

—Still playing the good neighbor, huh? —Jungkook's voice was soft but edged with something else, something heavy.

His desperate attempt to keep her engaged in a conversation that wouldn't end well was wrong, but it was the first time in weeks they crossed more than two words together.

She froze mid-step, then turned slightly to glance at him over her shoulder.

—And you're still... whatever this is —she said, motioning vaguely at him, her tone colder than he'd expected.

—Guess I should've seen that coming —he let out a soft huff, shifting his weight.

—See what? —she asked, the words sharper now, cutting through the hum of rain.

—Nothing —he replied quickly, shaking his head—. It doesn't matter.

She stared at him for a moment, the flashlight in her hand casting faint shadows on the walls.

—For once, I'll say you're right —she said, her voice even—. It doesn't.

With that, she went upstairs to check on Mrs. Johnson, knocking on her door lightly, leaving him standing there.

Minutes passed. By the time she returned to the hallway, Jungkook was still there, leaning against the wall with his head tilted back as though lost in thought. She tried to ignore him, tried to move past without a second glance, but his voice stopped her again.

—You're really okay, then? —he asked suddenly, not looking at her. The question was casual, but the weight behind it wasn't.

—Since when do you care? —she attacked him.

Silence showed among them again, with Jungkook avoiding a question that he knew he couldn't answer.

—I'm fine —she said, her tone clipped—. Why wouldn't I be?

He finally turned to face her, his eyes dark and searching.

—I don't know —he said after a beat—. I just thought maybe... It's been a lot. That's all.

Her chest tightened at the way he said it, as though he was tiptoeing around something he couldn't bring himself to say outright. But she wasn't about to let him pull her into another half-conversation, not after everything.

—Well, so you don't have to pretend to worry about me —she started, her words firm—: I'm doing fine. Better than fine, actually.

His jaw ticked at her words, but he didn't respond. Instead, he nodded once, his gaze dropping back to the floor. The silence between them stretched again, heavier this time, as though the storm outside had seeped into the air around them.

—I'm glad you're doing fine —he whispered, a weak smile forming on his face—, and you know... be busy —he said, his tone light, but his words carried a weight that she couldn't ignore.

—What's that supposed to mean? —Y/n asked, her voice sharp as she turned to face him.

He shrugged, his lips curving into the faintest smirk, though it didn't reach his eyes.

—Nothing. Just seems like you've had a lot on your plate lately. Guess that's good... keeping distracted.

Her grip on the flashlight tightened. He wasn't saying it outright, but she could feel the implication in his words, the unspoken suspicion hovering just beneath the surface. She straightened her shoulders, refusing to let him get under her skin.

—I bet it's no surprise for you —she shot back, her voice icy.

—And what's that supposed to mean now?

—You're a master in acting as if nothing happened. Seems like I must've learnt a thing or two after spending so much time with you.

Jungkook's smirk faltered, his expression hardening.

—That's what you think? That I don't care?

His rhetorical question was ready to come with a new attempt of approach, maybe build a new bridge, but Y/n interrupted him before he could.

—I don't have the energy for this right now —she sighed—. Goodnight, Jungkook —she said finally, her voice softer now but no less resolute.

She walked past him, her steps steady, even though her heart raced.

—Goodnight —he murmured, his voice barely audible over the rumble of thunder.

As she disappeared into her apartment, he stayed where he was, his hands tightening into fists at his sides. He didn't need to say what was on his mind, didn't need to hint any further. The distance between them was enough of a reminder of the life he couldn't give her, no matter how badly he wanted to.

He didn't answer, but the look in his eyes was enough. Another crack of thunder shook the building, and the lights flickered back on. The harsh fluorescent glow flooded the hallway, breaking the moment.

He watched her go, his heart aching with every step she took away from him. The storm outside raged on, but it couldn't hold a candle to the storm that tormented him since the moment he chose to let her go.

Maybe it was best to set some real distance between them, because driving an invisible wall while seeing her every day would only mess with his head.

The air in the courtroom was stifling, heavy with tension and the low murmurs of spectators seated behind her. Y/n adjusted her blazer, her palms slightly clammy as she sat in the witness stand, waiting to be sworn in. She scanned the room briefly. Jungkook sat at the defendant's table, his jaw tight, his eyes forward, deliberately avoiding hers. Despite his composed demeanor, she noticed the faint lines of tension around his mouth and the way his fingers tapped rhythmically against his thigh under the table.

The prosecutor finished his opening remarks, outlining Jungkook's alleged involvement in the underground fight ring but carefully distinguishing his cooperation with the police after the article's publication. Then, it was her turn.

The bailiff approached.

—Raise your right hand.

Y/n complied, her heart racing as the words, "Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth?" rang out.

—I do —she replied, her voice steady despite the hammering of her heart.

The prosecutor wasted no time, walking behind the bailiff, holding a pen in his fingers, as he approached where she was sitting.

—Miss Y/n Y/s, as a journalist, can you confirm your involvement in exposing the operations of Alessandro Rossi's underground fighting organization?

—Yes —she said clearly—. My article was the catalyst for the investigation that led to Rossi's arrest and the dismantling of his network.

—And during your investigation, did the defendant, Mr. Jeon Jungkook, provide you with any critical information?

Y/n glanced at Jungkook briefly, although her eyes didn't meet what she was hoping for. His posture stiffened, but he didn't meet her gaze. She looked back at the prosecutor with the same serious expression.

—Yes. Jungkook provided me with leads, documents, and insight into how the fights operated. He took significant personal risks to ensure I had enough evidence to bring the truth to light.

The prosecutor nodded.

—So, you're saying Mr. Jeon wasn't involved in organizing or profiting from these illegal fights?

—Correct —she said, her tone firm—. He wasn't part of the organization; he helped expose it. He was trying to make things right.

The defense attorney leaned forward.

—Miss Y/n Y/s, would you say Mr. Jeon's cooperation was essential in uncovering this operation?

—Absolutely —Y/n said without hesitation—. Without him, I wouldn't have been able to gather the evidence I needed.

There was a pause as the defense attorney looked through his notes.

—And would you agree that Mr. Jeon's actions have saved lives, considering the dangerous nature of these fights and the exploitation involved?

—Yes —Y/n replied, her voice softer this time.

The judge nodded slightly at her testimony, clearly taking her words into account.

When the cross-examination began, Y/n could feel the knot in her throat tightened. The difficult part of her testimony was just getting started.

The courtroom was silent except for the rhythmic tapping of the judge's gavel signaling the next line of questioning. Y/n's pulse quickened as the prosecutor stood and adjusted his suit, preparing to address the room.

—Miss Y/n Y/s —he began, pacing deliberately in front of the jury—. Your article has been widely praised for exposing one of the largest underground fight organizations in recent years. However, it's only fair to discuss your motivations for pursuing this story.

Y/n frowned slightly, unsure of where the questioning was headed. She clasped her hands tightly in her lap and nodded.

—I pursued it because it was a story that needed to be told.

—That may be true —the prosecutor tilted his head—, but isn't it also the case that your brother, Noah Y/s, was involved in these illegal parties prior to his death?

The room seemed to grow smaller as murmurs rippled through the crowd. Y/n inhaled sharply, her composure faltering for a split second.

—Yes —she said, her voice quiet but resolute—. My brother was involved, but he was trying to get out. He was killed before he had the chance.

—And do you believe that this connection influenced your ability to gather information?

—It gave me a reason to dig deeper —she admitted, her tone sharpened by emotion—. But my brother's past didn't hand me the evidence. I worked for it.

—And in your pursuit of this story —the prosecutor stepped closer—, you developed a relationship with the defendant, Mr. Jeon Jungkook, correct?

Y/n's breath caught. She glanced at Jungkook briefly, his expression unreadable as he sat stiffly at the defense table.

—Yes —she said, her cheeks flushing slightly—. We became close during the investigation.

—Close? —the prosecutor raised an eyebrow—. Would you say this relationship may have compromised your objectivity?

—No —Y/n's jaw tightened—. No. If anything, it gave me more insight into what I was investigating.

—And did Mr. Jeon use this relationship to sway your portrayal of him in your article?

Y/n's pupils shook, eyes wandering in the room until they found their way back to Jungkook. It was like the only thing that mattered was to invalidate everything she knew and worked for to find out.

—Absolutely not —she snapped, her tone cutting through the prosecutor's insinuation—. Jungkook didn't ask me for anything. If anything, he tried to keep me safe when I was putting myself in danger.

The prosecutor's brow lifted, as though he'd been expecting the answer.

—So you're saying the fact that you were romantically involved with the defendant had no bearing on your objectivity?

—That's exactly what I'm saying —she replied firmly.

The prosecutor took a slow step toward the jury, gesturing subtly to emphasize his words.

—Let's explore that relationship, shall we? How long were you and Mr. Jeon involved?

Y/n hesitated, sensing the trap being laid.

—A few months —she admitted.

—A few months —the prosecutor echoed, his voice now tinged with skepticism—. And during those few months, he provided you with access to sensitive information about a highly illegal operation?

—He didn't "provide" me anything —Y/n snapped, her frustration bubbling to the surface—. He had information I needed, and he let me know because he knew about the article I had been working on for almost a year —she continued—. Jungkook only...

—Only what? —the prosecutor cut her off, his voice rising slightly—. Only used your relationship as a way to protect himself? To control the narrative before it got out of hand?

—Objection! —Jungkook's lawyer stood abruptly—. Speculative and argumentative.

—Sustained —the judge gave a curt nod—. Keep your questions relevant, counselor.

The prosecutor nodded, feigning humility before turning back to Y/n.

—Apologies, Your Honor. Let's stick to the facts. Miss Y/n Y/s, in your testimony, you paint Mr. Jeon as someone who wanted to bring down this operation. But doesn't the evidence suggest he was complicit in it? After all, he participated in the fights and even trained fighters, didn't he? One of them... being your brother?

Jungkook wanted to get up his chair and jump the table to punch that idiot for even daring to bring up Noah to her, in such a delicate moment.

—Y... yes —she answered with a thin voice, barely moving her head closer to the microphone.

—Who died in the ring —the prosecutor continued—. And who was sent there by Jungkook.

—It wasn't like that... Jungkook didn't force him to fight —she assured him—. My brother had many debts. Even if Jungkook had opposed that fight, my brother would've found a way to fight. Because that was what those people made: force fighters and gym owners to participate, taking advantage of unprivileged desperate people to get entertainment. Jungkook was another victim.

—So you insist you aren't biased by your relationship with the accused?

—I'm not.

—So you never thought of the possibility of Jungkook simply protecting his own interests while ensuring you stayed close?

Y/n's cheeks flushed, anger bubbling beneath her skin.

—Jungkook risked everything to expose that organization. He didn't have to help me, but he did because it was the right thing to do.

Her eyes darted toward him, his doe eyes furrowed with concern. And it didn't cross her mind, not even for a moment, that he held that expression worried about himself or being affected by her words. He was worried about the distressed state she was entering, aware of how she didn't know where to look or what to say not to make the problem bigger.

The prosecutor leaned against the podium, his tone dripping with condescension.

—Facing the consequences after one of his fighters died would've also helped.

—It wouldn't have changed a thing. His help with the article did work for something. He helped me because it was the only way to move forward in the right direction.

—Or perhaps he helped you because he was sleeping with you?

The gasp from the gallery was almost drowned out by Y/n's sharp intake of breath.

—Objection! —Jungkook's lawyer stood abruptly—. That's completely irrelevant and inflammatory.

—Sustained —the judge said firmly—. Counsel, keep your questions appropriate.

—Whether he was sleeping with me or not, it didn't change a thing. Whatever pushed him to help, it's up to him. I don't even know how that's relevant —she continued—. He participated to gather evidence and expose the operation. He wasn't complicit.

The prosecutor smirked, sensing an opening.

—You seem awfully sure of that. Could it be because of your personal feelings for him?

—My feelings have nothing to do with it —Y/n shot back, her voice growing heated—. If I had followed my feelings for him right now, I wouldn't even be here in the first place —she sighed—. Jungkook risked his life to help expose the truth. He didn't have to, but he did. He's being accused of something he had no other choice to do, that's why I'm here.

—Risked his life, you say —the prosecutor said, pacing now—. And yet he's the one on trial. Isn't it possible, Miss Y/n Y/s, that you're defending him because you're still in love with him?

Y/n froze. The words hung in the air, heavy and charged. She glanced toward Jungkook, who sat at the defense table with his jaw clenched, his knuckles white as he gripped the edge of the table.

The defense attorney stood suddenly.

—Objection, Your Honor. This line of questioning is irrelevant to the charges against my client.

—Sustained —the judge nodded—. Counselor, do you have relevant questions or will you keep digging on Mrs. Y/s's love life?

The prosecutor hesitated before stepping back.

—No further questions, Your Honor.

As Y/n stepped down from the witness stand, she avoided the dozens of eyes following her. When she returned to her seat in the gallery, she felt Jungkook's gaze on her, heavy and conflicted. But when she dared to meet his eyes, he looked away.

The trial continued, the defense highlighting Jungkook's efforts to dismantle the operation from the inside, but Y/n couldn't shake the feeling that her testimony had reopened wounds they both thought had begun to heal.

The hearing dragged on with other testimonies, but Y/n's heart remained in her throat. She had done everything she could for him, and now all she could do was wait.

The hum of traffic echoed faintly in the background as Y/n descended the courthouse steps. Her heels clicked against the pavement, her thoughts a swirling storm of exhaustion and lingering emotions from the cross-examination. She had almost reached the street when she heard his voice.

—Y/n.

Her steps stopped, and she clenched her fists at her sides before turning around. Jungkook was standing a few feet away, his expression unreadable, though a mix of gratitude and guilt flickered in his eyes. The tailored suit he wore looked out of place compared to the Jungkook she was used to: the fighter, the rebel, the man who had once held her heart.

—Thank you —he said softly, stepping closer. His voice carried the weight of sincerity—. For everything you said in there. You didn't have to do that.

—I didn't do it for you —Y/n replied, her tone measured but distant—. I did it because it was the truth.

Jungkook nodded, his gaze dropping to the ground for a moment before returning to her face.

—Still, I know it wasn't easy for you. They brought up... a lot.

—I'm used to people twisting my words —she gave him a faint shrug—. Comes with the territory. Besides... I was a bit prepared for this.

—I just... —he hesitated, his hands fidgeting slightly—. I want you to know I never used you. Not for the article, not for anything. I cared about you... —he stopped himself, shaking his head—. I care about you.

Y/n's lips pressed into a thin line as she crossed her arms.

—You don't have to explain yourself, Jungkook. It's over. Whatever we had, whatever we thought we could have... it doesn't matter now.

—It matters to me —he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

—I didn't think you used me for the article —she explained—, nor for this. I don't think you faked a single time what you thought you felt, so don't explain yourself with it. It's not necessary.

—I just wanted to make sure you knew. The prosecutor was a bit harsh with you and I didn't want you to get a wrong impression.

She exhaled sharply, glancing away to steady herself.

—Look, I appreciate you saying that. But I think it's a bit late for you to worry about the impression I might get from you. It's not like you need a prosecutor's offensive questions for it.

—Y/n... —Jungkook countered, his voice tinged with frustration— I...

—What? —Y/n finally looked at him, her eyes cold but still hopeful.

It was the best moment to tell her he was crazily in love with her. It was the best moment to kiss her and go home with her. But he remained quiet.

—I know I messed up with you. You never deserved to go through what I put you through.

She flinched as if his words had struck her physically, but she nodded, accepting there were no feelings to confess, no words to take back. She was the only one holding onto a relationship that never had the chance to exist.

The silence stretched between them, heavy and unyielding. Finally, Y/n sighed, her posture softening slightly but still guarded.

—I'll be going back home —she finally said.

Before he could say anything else, she turned and walked away, her steps brisk and determined. Jungkook watched her retreating figure, the ache in his chest deepening with every step she took. He had wanted to bridge the gap between them, but it seemed the distance was too great to close.

Taglist: @jk97bam @ttanniett

[liaa--qb]

Your take on darklinas is 100% correct. Saw so many darklinas in team black stans and they were shitting on Aegon and Aemond. How can someone like Darkling if they like Rhaenyra as if Darkling wasn't far worse for girls than Aegon. Yes they type whole big paragraph about Daemon did nothing wrong and he never groomed anyone. I am not fan of alysmond but I assure you I don't find them more problematic than Daemyra, Rhaenicent. They said Aemond killed Alys's entire family but I don't think she ever gave fuck about her family.

Iol😂 Ik that btw n firstly let me tell u that in book Alys didn't give a single shit about whatever family that was.That wasn't even her family !

That was house strong who was keeping her only as wet nurse servant just bcz she was a strong bastard herself if talk about book only. She wasn't any princess there😭. Wtf TB Stans think while making these bullshits which wasn't in the book. Atleast should make something sensible.

I already told that dere relationship was not any romantic which some Alysmond Stans want it to be. It was just kind of toxic profit n gain relationship bet them. But she was only with Aemond for her profit n survival. She clearly gets pregnant with his child. Most logical reason is only that she would also hold the power in throne. That's it.

Alys was a witch who killed a man just in secs...do u really think that she would make herself as a crying hostage to a 18 yrs old boy😭. She would have killed Aemond easily if she wanted to right there while slaughtering whole house strong but she didn't bcz she would easily get profit from removing every other man from her strong family. Whole wealth indirectly goes to her or larys.

TB be saying anything rubbish as we don't even get much about her in book. She was neither team Black or team green. Now what tv series would do about her ? I can't say that......but Ofcourse they would say thousand non sense reasons on daemon which even GRRM would die on hearing.😹

N about Darklina stans🤦🏻‍♀️...they r really stupid. Their whole ship is extremely problematic. Even alysmond or every ship from hotd itself is less problematic than darklina honestly 😂.

Darkling literally abused n harmed Alina physically and he gave small girls to get r*ped by King for his own need🤢

n the audacity those idiots have to say anything about any ship way less problematic than them. It's funny when Darkling Stans would say they like Rhaenyra. Even Aegon was less harmful than him like bitch.. be fr😂which drug u guys r taking

I don't hate or not any anti Darklina. I don't even like that book. It's so fucking boring😭.Ship is very much ok. Like you can ship the fuck u want. I used to ship it too but if u r liking a problematic ship urself then u should better keep ur mouth shut about any other ships. They are embarrassing sometimes

(Believe me only thing I shipped it because they have that light and dark dynamic, if it wasn't about that. I would have never shipped them either. Plus Ben Barnes was the reason I went to watch that show 😑)

As I said they can't even like their favourites as they are🤷🏻‍♀️ so don't take them seriously. I am waiting for that clown show when they are going to say Daeron is a r@pist while writing big stupid paragraphs on ' how Maegor was correct'. U can see that very soon.

[margotoo0]

Tigre et panthère

You know how it was possible to bring Sukuna into the light. Paradoxically, although he spent little time at home due to “underground” illegal affairs, but when he managed to stay at home, the bro DIDN'T GO OUT AT ALL, so everyone necessarily fell on you. A man literally had to be dragged by his legs to get him outside, to touch the grass, damn it...

One day you decide to take a short walk.

With a promise from yourself that you will buy that wonderful smoked beef..

□ □ □ □ □ □ □

A huge man, almost 6.3 feet tall, stood at the glass doors of the newfangled center, his face wrinkled with displeasure

–Animals? Did you fucking bring me to the zoo? Seriously? – the man lowered his head to the woman below him, towering threateningly above her.

–Do you have any complaints, sir? You can take the damn map and go back, but you will never go anywhere with me again. And don’t you dare then grumble like an old woman that I changed you, accusing you of all the dirty sins of the world. – you spoke clearly enough, poison oozed from your lips. Sukuna's eyelids lifted and her expression became even more angry and dissatisfied. Turning on your heels, you entered the large complex. The tall man still followed you. Inexplicably. He always inspired that he would not succumb to your provocations. At least that's what he told himself. Sukuna clearly didn't want to come to terms with reality. He hates you for your attempt at influence. But the attempts were always successful.

Walking further down the corridor, you enter a dark room, completely oblivious to the huge, eerie shadow behind you. Well, there it is, let it wander. Having parted the curtains, area opens up in front of you, the only lighting in the room was the light bulbs behind the glass in which the animals were kept. Pandas, monkeys, koalas, gorgeous peacocks with their beautiful tails...But you came here for something else. After walking a little along the unlit corridor, you entered the next section, where the cat family was presented. Your eyes immediately caught a delightful, graceful black panther with sharp green eyes. It was a female with cubs. A wonderful sight. You sat down a little, the panther noticed you, approaching the glass. She blinked. The smooth, glossy fur glistened under the soft light of the lamp. Involuntarily you softened, your lips stretched into a smile. Considering that you have a bombay cat at home, this caused more feelings.

The large green-eyed cat glanced sharply to the side, slowly turning its head, as if watching someone. It looks like someone has entered. One person came to mind...

You turned around, noticing a dark figure standing in front of the section with the other cats. You quietly came a little closer to see the reason for the man’s interest. This is a tiger. A huge tiger was lying on the rocks, licking its paw.

The man was completely motionless, standing straight, like a soldier. It looked like he wasn't breathing at all. You moved away a little, approaching the glass behind which there was a tiger. Sukuna didn't notice you because of the darkness and your short stature.. In fact, and because his attention was completely focused on the tabby cat. You noticed that Sukuna's eyes were slightly squinted, his emotions unreadable. But you immediately made the assumption that he still liked what he saw. At least he was interested in it. And getting Sukuna interested is the hardest task.

–He shouldn't be here.

–At least they take care of him here too. You know, since not all countries have the ability to implement anti-poaching laws, he will be safe here.

–But they need to hunt. They are predators.

–It seems to me that during the time that he has been here, he has long been tamed.

The tall man first thought, then sighed barely audibly.

–He is..He is look good. Powerful.

–He is handsome.

Realization has come to you.

–Ah, I know why you liked him! - you narrowed eyes, voice became sickly sweet. – He looks like you! Black shelves like your tattoos, predators, impressive size...

–What stupidity – the man rolled his eyes.

–Are you outraged that I compare you to one of the most beautiful creatures in nature? – you mock.

–Okay. I have to admit... your theory almost has a right to exist.

–You're an arrogant moro-.. The man interrupted you

–I want to see a panther. – The man smiled slightly slyly.

BONUS

–Hello, sweetie. – You bend down to pet your green-eyed black cat.

Imagine your surprise when a second big cat ran out from around the corner with quick steps. Ginger. Striped. Cat.

–Hello to you too? Buddy... – A little uncertain and embarrassed

–He lives with us now - a tall, huge, threatening figure covering you with his shadow.

A small laugh escaped your lips.

–I don't mind, Sukuna. I never did.

The room became warm, and in chest became even warmer

[justforbooks]

Naomi Klein, author of era-defining bestsellers, The Shock Doctrine, This Changes Everything and No Logo, is back with her most compulsive and personal book yet: a revelatory journey into the mirror world of our polarised age

When Naomi Klein discovered that a woman who shared her first name, but had radically different, harmful views, was getting chronically mistaken for her, it seemed too ridiculous to take seriously. Then suddenly it wasn't. She started to find herself grappling with a distorted sense of reality, becoming obsessed with reading the threats on social media, the endlessly scrolling insults from the followers of her doppelganger.

Why had her shadowy other gone down such an extreme path? Why was identity - all we have to meet the world - so unstable?

To find out, Klein decided to follow her double into a bizarre, uncanny mirror world: one of conspiracy theories, anti-vaxxers and demagogue hucksters, where soft-focus wellness influencers make common cause with fire-breathing far right propagandists (all in the name of protecting 'the children'). In doing so, she lifts the lid on our own culture during this surreal moment in history, as we turn ourselves into polished virtual brands, publicly shame our enemies, watch as deep fakes proliferate and whole nations flip from democracy to something far more sinister. This is a book for our age and for all of us; a deadly serious dark comedy which invites us to view our reflections in the looking glass.

It's for anyone who has lost hours down an internet rabbit hole, who wonders why our politics has become so fatally warped, and who wants a way out of our collective vertigo and back to fighting for what really matters.

Daily inspiration. Discover more photos at Just for Books…?