#I even looked up fonts so I wouldn't have to draw the words on his hat

[chromadicc]

Im not gonna be finishing this gif a for bit so here it is! There is meant to be something going on the sides but I don't feel like doing it.

And here he is in png form! (Click on it for better quality on both)

[soraviie]

being soulmates.txt

━ type: bts x gn! reader  ━ navigation

━ about: fluff, angst, crack (tiny smut) - the holy trinity/quartet? ━ pictures taken from Pinterest

━ a/n: soulmates are my favourite trope cause of low self-esteem, I hope it is yours as well. The trope, not the issues.

━ previously posted on soraviii

NAMJOON: As it stands to reason, Namjoon knew it was an overcapitalized natural phenomenon with an actual success rate of only 52%. Having just a little over half meant that a whole 47% with a margin error of 1% of the entire world neither had, nor wanted any dealings with soulmates. But even so, he couldn't entirely stop the blush of whimsical fancy whenever thinking of them.

He was, for now at least, documented as an "awaiting registry" in the K-SSA (Korean Soulmate System Association) and all that was needed - time. Often, he daydreamed of his perfect partner with their perfect life much like numerous others, not really festering any bloom of hope and yet-

Yet he couldn't feel like he was profoundly dunked on by the universe itself as 24 seconds ago writing appeared on his forearm when none had touched it. In a thin, illegible font it said one word and one word only.

"cock"

He looked away, wiped at it absent-mindedly but as it was not ink, it did not stain. Right. Okay.

Deciding to squash all thoughts and sensations related to his soulmate he moved on with his life telling no one of this discovery. But the dam once unleashed did not cease and never, ever did it wield any sign of intelligence. On top of that, his soulmate seemed to be a perpetual cheat - math, language, history. In a terrible shorthand, Namjoon suddenly found himself abhorrently acquainted with someone's educational curriculum. However, the proverbial chariot finally broke when jet-lagged and sleep-deprived Namjoon could only helplessly watch as word by word, with painstaking accuracy, the dreaded sprawl appeared.

"According to all known laws of aviation, there is no way that a bee should be able to fly. Its wings are too small to get its fat little body off the ground. The bee, of course, flies anyway."

Having had quite enough of this strange dumbass, he grabbed a sharpie and crossed out the stupid words with one bold, black stroke. A profound moment of silence followed suit and inadvertently Namjoon wondered whether they were sitting still, in some corner of the world seized by an unseen fright of the truly terrifying reality that one is not truly alone anymore. But no such thing happened as a cool and collected reply soon followed.

"oh cool! :D"

Possessing no desire to waste any more time, Namjoon leapt straight to the point.

"You're annoying."

"Yes, so I've been told :)"

Floundering at what to say further, he sat frozen for a good while his soulmate seized the opportunity in which to continue.

"yeast infected cockroach"

And even faster as if in a hurried panic, they added.

"that's not to you. I'm learning ;)"

"Learning curse words?"

If he had a single atom of a gracious painter in his body, he'd draw a heavily disapproving grimace.

"wouldn't you say that's vital knowledge?"

Alright. In what was almost deja vu, Namjoon turned off the light and went to sleep. This was a lot to endure.

The scribbling didn't stop and Namjoon ignored the odd question directed at him, though with a peculiarly heavy heart. Sometimes he had only half the presence of mind and attempted to write something back but always caught his own hand mid-stroke. Life with him would not be easy. And also you were still strangers. Despite the riveting romance stories of the airport stalls, it was not that easy to breach the gap. In fact, it was even more difficult. If two people met in ordinary ways in ordinary circumstances, they could head in any direction they wanted, without the knowledge of "what if". But the only thing Namjoon knew for certain was the "what if". What if he never meets you? What if he screws it up? That would fill him with bitter regret for the rest of his life. But it wasn't until a more sombre message to which he woke up, that he couldn't stay away anymore.

"I'm graduating. Today. Didn't think I could but I'm proud of myself."

Then after a while.

"Not that you care."

And despite Namjoon being in the middle of the interview, he dished out the pen from his pocket which he may or may have not been carrying this whole time and hastily traced back.

"I care. I'm proud of you as well."

Pause.

"Soulmate ;)"

YOONGI: His pulse was drumming against the skin of his neck, choking down the next breath. No matter how many times he skimmed through the small space no sudden stranger or even a ghost appeared. Nevertheless, it didn't change the fact that he was hearing voices.

Yoongi slapped a hand over his own ear as though that was the problem. The conversation persisted.

"No, I don't know, Maeve," the disembodied voice continued in a sigh. "If they wanted to ask, they would have long ago, right?"

Licking his lips, Yoongi croaked a feeble -

"Hello?"

The mysterious stranger fell deathly mute and with eardrums straining to the point of pain, he could vaguely gather they were afraid as Yoongi himself was shocked into a similar stupor not a moment ago. They must think he was the ghost. And though Yoongi didn't know for certain, he supposes that he just might have found his soulmate.

He had spent his whole life counting himself into the 47%. Having neither proclivity for, nor signs of a formed bond, he simply ran with the statistics. 47% of the world was a great number of people and Yoongi was quite content with what or whom he had. So in a manner which thousands must have asked along with him today, he thought "shit, what now?"

Days later, clutching the twin "pending" forms of the K-SSA and I-SSA, he decided to speak. Maybe his soulmate won't like him anyway.

"Hello?" he utters into the empty space of his apartment feeling a tad foolish but bulldozing his way through it "Are you there?"

With a bated breath, he waits then at last -

"Yes, hello."

Yoongi coughs and with an orchestrated indifference states the obvious.

"We must be soulmates."

"Yeah," comes a similarly dispassionate reply. "Though I did think you were a demon."

He snorts in a muted amusement.

"What's your name?"

"______________. Yours?"

His brain errors. Even if a soulmate, he couldn't just freely divulge his persona willy-nilly, so to speak. Being a soulmate didn't prohibit anyone from inflicting harm. The morning news was plenty of affirmation.

"Oh...um...August."

In the five-second span in which no response followed, he could feel just how much you didn't believe him.

"August?" dryly, you echo.

"Yeah, my parents were hippies."

He goes to sit down on the sofa, sinking into it whilst awkwardly clapping his hands.

"Are you a seal?"

He glances down at his hands.

"You can hear that?"

"Yes. Weird, isn't it."

Another pregnant pause followed suit.

"So soulmates," he drawled in deep thought. "You're uh...interested in that?"

If he focused enough he could hear a pen clacking against a thick notebook. You must be studying or in an office space. Or simply sitting and tapping away the pen to alleviate nerves.

"I...I'm not quite sure," you answer truthfully. "I haven't agonized over it and I've been busy and..."

You exhale shakily.

"And to be completely frank...I got into a relationship. Yesterday."

Well, that's just on brand, Yoongi thought sourly.

"I'm sorry, August."

He chuckled. You actually sounded sincere. And something in the apologetic lilt of your tone made his heart soften. At entirely the wrong time.

"Don't worry about it. Not your fault."

"Are...are you in a relationship?"

He licks his dry lips and pushes the forms further away and across the coffee table.

"Yeah," he lies. "So it's all fine."

He once again thinks you're a ghost, blinking blearily at your soft voice shaking the still air of the night. Years have passed and he realized that he sort of has missed the sound of your voice.

"August?" you asked timidly in the middle of the night. "Are you still there?"

He rubs his eyes.

"Yes. Hello."

"Hi."

An awkward tension wavers.

"What are you up to?"

"Can't sleep," he mumbles, rubbing now repeatedly his tired eyes. "Insomnia."

"Oh, sorry to hear that."

"Do you always apologize for everything?" he crosses his arms, resting on the pillow like a normal person would whilst talking next to someone in the bed.

"A little bit," you laugh demurely. "You know, I submitted my form and the I-SSA replied back."

He sobered up at that, the faint migraine from the lack of rest pounding a little harder as his breath caught in his throat.

"Don't worry, they were very strict and revealed to me nothing."

"Sorry about that," he couldn't help but sigh however you didn't seem to mind.

"Do you always apologize for everything?" you laughed and he did too.

"Just about this," now slightly soothed he settled deeper into the covers. "What about your...partner?"

"Oh," immediately your voice became angry. "Dumped them. Cheated on me."

"What a fucking prick," Yoongi scoffed.

"Enough about them. Try to sleep, okay?"

You were nothing but a stranger. A stranger talking into his head which not so long ago would have guaranteed him four walls and complete isolation. Yet still, he listened. Found the request, not an order but a nagging sweet sentiment of taking better care. He didn't mind it, and neither did he mind you talking. In fact, the migraine was peculiarly retreating,

"What are you watching?" he asked curiously. Through the winded gaps in your voice and the rustle of the Seoul traffic outside, he could piece together some fragments of what resembled 90's tv show music. "Sounds like old porn."

Abruptly, you burst into a fit of loud laughter and then just as abruptly fell quiet.

"Sorry...no one has joked with me for a very long time," you quietly admitted and something in his chest began to sting.

"You have a nice laugh," with a faint blush, he praised shyly. "Don't you have friends to joke around with? Maeve?"

If you found it odd, he knew the name of your friend, still remembering it from that faint first bond years ago now, you didn't remark on it and he was better for it. Yoongi really didn't need to feel any more of a creep than he had, always chiding himself for being this obsessive over those few minutes of conversation. It seemed that he was not so indifferent about the soulmate thing after realizing they were real for him.

"Not anymore. Who do you think that garbage cheated on me with?"

Yoongi cringed.

"I'm sorry," he bid earnestly, a wrinkle of a frown etching on his forehead.

"Addition to the list?" you teased and he smiled to himself, persistently shy, despite knowing you could not see it.

"Suppose. Though you never answered."

"What exactly?" you hummed and he heard sheets rustling. You must be sleeping as well. Or perhaps simply sitting on the bed.

"What are you watching?"

"X-Files. Felt in the mood for something spooky."

He thought about it for a second before rushing into action.

"Which episode? What minute?"

You were almost taken aback by the brazen curiosity as it hadn't been previously ever heard.

"Season 1, episode 8. Minute 04:47."

As Yoongi grabbed his laptop, he heard the faint dialogue stop. You stopped it.

"Do you...want to watch with me?"

He frantically searched for the episode, fighting for his life to get the ads off the screen.

"Hey, I know that noise," you remarked. "That's the blacklist notice! Say, August, you wouldn't be streaming illegally, would you?"

"You're going to arrest me?" he smirked, winding to the fourth minute. "Kinky."

He couldn't naturally vouch for it but he thinks you reddened. And he found it cute.

"No. Just concerned that you'll find Anna, 32, much more appealing. She's only 1 kilometre away."

It was his time to laugh.

"Don't worry about her. Not my type. I'm hot for ghostly voices whispering in my ear."

You splutter and, laughing quietly to himself, he interrupts your indignance.

"I'm at the fourth minute. Are you continuing to watch or not?"

"Yeah," you replied huffily. "I'm continuing."

It didn't take long for him to fall asleep that night. Or the next. Or the next. And after a year, his doctor declared his insomnia successfully treated.

"You're not watching at all," you whined into his ear and Yoongi pulled the blanket over his body.

"No, I am," he lied. "I'm watching it through your mind, silly."

You scoffed.

"What a bunch of nonsense. We share glamorized auditory hallucinations, not a mind link."

After a pause, all you hear are the familiar sounds of him already quietly snoring away.

"Good night...August."

JIN: He exhaled once, twice, thrice. It took him about three seconds to fully grasp what he was seeing and then with all the might of his tired legs Jin threw himself into the shower curtain and promptly knocked himself out against the tiled bathroom wall.

"Sir, please, calm down!" the nurse urged him frantically as Jin twitched on the bed.

"No, you don't understand! It was a ghost. A ghost! A ghost is haunting my bathroom!"

"Sir, please, there's no ghost!"

He glimpsed to the left and in the metal railing of the bed, he saw a reflection not of himself but of an entirely different face looking right back at him with the same concern.

Jin politely and very masculine screeched at the top of his lungs and graciously passed out amidst the mass of frightened hospital staff.

So...in the end, as it turns out, he was not haunted. The affirmation came in the form of two stocky SSA workers, coming to stop by his room with a thick wad of papers.

Sign here. Sign here. Sign here.

It appears that three years ago someone had registered in the I-SSA and while there were many different systems out there, all with their variations and complications, it was just Jin's luck, his beam of sunshine amidst the raging storm, to be in a system with the smallest amount of sharers. The abnormal diff-diffusion? He doesn't quite recall as he'd sat there head pounding away and sounds distant, staring at his own name and next to it the person, who according to the science of it all, was his soulmate.

But knowing was different from believing. Or at least, not shitting himself every time they stared at him in his own reflection.

"You got to cool it, man," Namjoon drawled in that pure sarcastic deadpan, patting away the soup that Jin had spilt as he lunged himself away from the spoon reflection in which a different eye was reflected through.

"At least, you can see them," Taehyung muttered bitterly, wiping the table clean and all fell silent.

Jin kept the mirrors covered anyhow. It was simply too freaky to witness an entirely different face in the stead of his, soulmate or not. Life proceeded as normal and while Jin kept himself busy and unthinking of possibilities, the lack or rather denial of his soulmate meant little to him. Until the very eve of winter. The first fresh snow had fallen over Seoul and stayed that way. The air was chill and crisp and the world was ready to slumber. At least this part of it. And on this night, no matter how long Jin stared at the fallen snow, he couldn't sleep. His heart was beating out of his chest and his mind raced.

He...felt it. Or rather you felt it and he sensed the echoes of it. Growing agitated over this sensation, he stomped towards the mirror, ready to...well, he was not quite sure what he was going to do but after yanking the towel onto the floor he forgot all about it. For the first time, you were not googling back at him, either in wonder or aggrievance but you were crying, gripping the sink with crushing strength. Crying like your entire soul was just split apart.

"What's wrong?" Jin aske timidly but you did not react. Visual must not also mean auditory. With shaking fingers he tapped the glass and this time you jumped in a way that was eerily familiar to his own. Landing on your ass, you cursed. Or he thinks you did from the way your lips curled.

He thought about it for a second and rushed away to fetch a lip balm before writing on the surface of the mirror.

"Hi."

You leaned your head to the side before, shivering, rising to stand. He watched intently as you dipped your hand underneath the water current and wrote back.

"Hi."

Jin exhaled, battling the urge to not pass out.

"Why cry?"

You gestured all around yourself and he recognized the sterile, removed environment of the hospital bathroom.

"Sick?" he wrote, feeling a heavy thud in his gut, something akin to missing a step in the dark.

"Yes. Tomorrow is the surgery."

He swallowed.

"Dangerous?"

You swallowed shakily and immediately Jin felt bad for asking.

"Moderate. I can live, I can die. All up to the doctors."

He too reaches to grip the sink and though he can't hear it, he can see you chuckling tearily. He frowns and you write.

"We even look the same. In a way."

Jin can offer only a shaky smile and even more guilt for shoving you away.

He was a horrible soulmate to have.

All day and next night he waits by the mirror and then finally when it's dark again, the snow falls in droves underneath the streetlamps and wind rushes through the alleys down below and finally, just before midnight, you appear in the mirror, shuffling in. You looked tired and worn but at least you're alive. Jin springs up.

You're the first one to write, having brought with you a lip balm as well.

"I lived. Clearly."

"Thank Heavens," Jin writes back feeling a rush of emotions dampen his eyes. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

Gracious, you throw a hand at his words.

"I didn't want a soulmate before this. Thought I was...above it. Stupid really."

He smiles abashed and nods.

"You okay? Will be?"

"Yes, I will be okay," for a second, you lower your hands, gathering strength and then reach out. "You...do you want to talk more after this?"

"Hey, Jin, we're waiting for you!" Namjoon calls out, sticking a head through the door and he turns around.

"I'll be with you in five minutes."

Namjoon glimpsed at the defaced mirror.

"Hangman, really?"

Jin shrugged.

"We both like it. Scram now."

As he turned round he wrote "y".

j__n_y, stood on the surface and Jin sat deep in thought, then he guessed.

"Journey."

You sighed in defeat and confirmed his answer. Jin read the word again, committing it to memory.

"Text me when your plane lifts off," he wrote and you mimicked his soft smile.

"I will. See you in 16 hours."

Jin kissed his palm and pressed it against the mirror where your forehead stood.

"16 hours," he muttered back.

HOSEOK: "What do you think?" Jimin asked. "This one or this one?"

Hoseok merely arched an eyebrow.

"How would I be able to tell?"

Jimin lowered the hangers, with a guilty frown.

"I'm sorry, I didn't think."

Instantaneously, the despondent eyes made him feel guilty.

"Nevermind. I like the...uh left one."

Jimin twiddled guilty with the coloured fabric. A colour which Hoseok couldn't see.

"You want me to help you pick the outfit?"

Not to make him feel any sadder, Hoseok obliged.

Contrary to popular belief, being in the monochrome system sucked ass. He had nearly two million matches in the K-SSA registry, 32 million in the I-SSA and counting the 1% of margin error that amounted roughly to a 340 000 that could be his soulmate but wouldn't act that way due to genetic mutation. The more he thought of those numbers, the more alone he felt. Yoongi at least could hear his soulmate, Jin had seen them and was by now already moved in with them. Being in the more rare section of the soulmate systems they could at least have their soulmates traced via reading brain waves and other gibberish Hoseok never much understood. But no data could come from the monochrome system as the numbers were simply too overwhelming. False positives and false negatives were too great for a sensible person to take that chance. Which left only one option - the good old-fashioned meet and greet.

But with a planet of 8 billion people that chance was small. Growing ever so smaller with each passing day despite the technological advances. Even so, the airport was of late the favourite place of Hoseok's to be at. No place such as an airport to find someones all over the globe, grumpily and quite often with a foul odour, converging their different ways together. He tried to stay optimistic. As Taehyung bumped into him, sleep-ridden and tired, he indeed felt that there was a need to be optimistic. As much as he bitched, it didn't amount to the pain his friend was in at all times.

"Hey, just a little bit," he brushed Tae's fringe back to reveal two swollen eyes. He must have been crying either just now, or the entire night. Either way, it was an upsetting idea to have. Subtly, Hoseok pushed Taehyung into Jimin's direction who eagerly took care of his friend. But they all trodded along no matter how they felt.

"How was that episode good?" Yoongi asked and Hoseok frowned.

"What episode?" he questioned and Yoongi waved a hand, almost like one would when talking over a phone and someone interrupted.

"Oh, you're talking to...never mind," Hoseok grumbled, pushing his head further down.

The sky above the Atlantic Ocean was grey and uninspiring whilst the flight itself was excruciating. Though everything to him was grey. 14 hours in a box in the sky was not what Hoseok particularly enjoyed. Bored, he prodded at the desert. It was of a lighter hue, meaning a brighter colour. Yellow perhaps. Mango.

He took a spoon to his mouth. Strawberry. After all this time, one would think he'd be better at differentiating things. At least, he could remember colours, he thought wistfully, once again thinking of the positives. Some people were born with their bonds permanently established meaning they never knew colour. But Hoseok could at least remember - the colour of the sky, the sun, the green grass around his school. But it was in a way worse. If he could never have it again, it would ruin him. Strange. Such a simple thing really but he missed it dearly. What a weird way to bond people, by depriving them of the basics of life. Was it even love in the end? Or desperation driving them into some form of sick co-dependence?

Trying to be positive, didn't necessarily mean he was one as Hoseok had found out.

New York was a whirlpool. They had to rush fast to their cars through the halls of the airport, barely breathing and at this very moment, in one singular turn, Hoseok saw the beige of Taehyung's jumper.

The red of Jimin's scarf and the brown of Jungkook's eyes as he stared at him in wonder.

They couldn't stop. The insistent push of the bodyguards affirmed it so but if Hoseok suddenly saw the one thing that only his soulmate could grant then that meant his soulmate was not just near. Their eyes had met.

And he held no recognition.

He whipped to look around, the twin sensations of the flashing camera lights and the sheer amount of colours, of their shades and hues, had his head swimming but he saw no one. No one was looking with the echo of the realization, no one seemed to be interested in him any more than the rest. Interested in him as j-hope, the star, not Hoseok, the soulmate.

"We need to keep going," his bodyguard whispered, trying to professionally haul him away.

"No, I...I just met my soulmate. I need to stay!"

But the man did not listen. The crowd swarmed closer and closer and without much more say in the situation, he found himself sitting numbly in the backseat of the car. The neon signs blinded his eyes and for the first time in his adult and teenage life, Hoseok saw the rainbow cascading off the singular snowflake clinging to the window of the black car.

JIMIN: He pushed back the hair from your sweaty forehead.

"Feels so good," he moaned onto your lips. "You feel so good."

When the familiar knot unwound it felt like a truck, or a high-speed train running him down and into a cliff. But somehow pleasantly. Jimin swears he could see the true meaning of the universe, the very makeup of what created the entire life in moments like these. But even so his favourite, to his heart, was the second after, for the crudeness of it all, bust a nut within you, when he laid, holding your body close and panting together in the warm room. He felt brave tonight for once and nuzzled into the crook of your neck. It was all sweaty and damp but he did not mind. It was the only kind of closeness he could have with you.

Five blissful minutes passed and you roused, pushing him away. Gently but still you did. After rushing to the bathroom, you came back to get dressed. Jimin reached to trace a finger on your back as you dragged a shirt over your head.

"Can't you stay?" he hums. There was a scar right above the curve of your hip and he ghosted over it. You didn't like him focusing on your scars.

"I like my own place," you reply casually. "Paid a lot for it."

That was, of course, only an excuse. Jimin may or may have not met another ex-hookup of yours and you had stayed with them. They made you breakfast.

And Jimin wanted to make you breakfast more than anything else.

"Right," he sinks into himself, wanting to stop but not being capable to do so. "Can you...kiss me...before you go?"

Pathetic. To beg like this. But he wanted you to madness.

Perhaps, you looked slightly unsettled but indulged him nonetheless. The way you kissed was like feeling a new breath in his lungs. He didn't understand what about you was so intoxicating but he wanted you around all the time. Your presence was like a wet cloth on the fevered head, a gulp of fresh air after spending hours in a stuffed room.

It was no exaggeration that he was growing obsessed.

And you thought of him as a hookup.

"See you later," you said, stroking his cheek once and the next was the door falling shut. Jimin sighed, rapidly crashing from the height of happiness to the pit of misery. But if anything could distract him it was the horrible pain suddenly flaring through his shin.

"Oh, for fuck's sake," he cursed, cradling the limb.

He honestly thought his soulmate should be nothing but a mangled piece of flesh by now. Ever since 14 years old, he felt nothing but pain from them. And despite it being the main takeaway from sharing the sensations type of bond, he should also be in technicality receiving happy emotions but no. There was none. Just anxiety and regular pain.

Though, in fairness, Jimin assumed he gave off much of the same. Remembering the long practices, and the muscle cramps, he could only recoil. When the ache finally ceased he lays on top of the sheets again brushing the empty space next to him. Soulmate perhaps, but all he wanted was you. If you'd be next to him, he'd look for no one else ever again. Which was stupid, who falls into love with their fuck..fuck-something.

"Literally every protagonist in a romance story," Jungkook muttered before making a loud gagging noise. Jimin almost had half the intention of lodging a spoon in his throat before he hurriedly explained.

"It's not to you! It's just that dumbass is eating sugar. Pure sugar!" he heaved, face getting read. "Oh, I hope their teeth have so many holes they need to eat nothing but carrots!"

"You want to taste nothing but carrots for the rest of your life?" Jimin snarked and Jungkook paused.

"Guess not."

Suddenly Jimin's elbow flared up.

"Oh, come on!" he exclaimed, wincing and rubbing the spot. "How many times a day can this person be hurt?!"

"Hey, guys, why are there so many people outside?" Taehyung asked in confusion, hooking his headphones off. Sirens soon blared and as they looked on, through the crowd, they could see someone laying in the middle of the street. Unmoving.

"Oh shit, is that blood?" Jungkook gasped.

The police coordinated off the area pushing the mass away and to Jimin's surprise, you stepped out of one of the cars with a camera attached to your neck. To even more of a shock, you began to take pictures and Jimin questioned how was it that he didn't know you were a CSI or whatever they were called when suddenly you tripped and fell down, slamming your chin against the unforgiving ground.

"Oh, that must hurt," Taehyung and Jungkook drawled together but Jimin stayed quiet. His chin was killing him.

And what were the chances of that?

"Sensation-coded systems tend to be of more emotional intensity as they echo the same level of chemical fluctuation between persons on top of their own."

As Jimin had learned it at school, he still had it scrabbled somewhere in the high school notebook, touch equated to chemical changes in the body. Dopamine and serotonin increase and in a sensation-coded system, person A could not only feel their own increase but also person B's and vice versa. This is why perhaps he felt like he was breathing new breath when he kissed you. Because he just might.

He can't stop shaking as he texts you to come over, despite doing it hundred times before. But this was different wasn't it? If he was right, he could lose you, if he was wrong, he could also lose you. Either way, he lost. But he had to know. Otherwise, he would be bitter his entire life.

You hug him the second you step over the threshold but for the first time, Jimin steps away. Immediately you frown.

"Something wrong?" you ask and he swallows hard.

"I...I made dinner," actually he ordered it, not wanting it to be bad. "You want to eat?"

He knows you know it was phrased as a question out of politeness. During dinner which is not at all strained into near incapacitating silence, Jimin may or may not drink. A lot. To cope.

"Please, just tell me what it is," you finally break. "Or I'll combust spontaneously."

"I didn't know you were a CSI," he trailed off and you froze.

"Yeah, well, it's not a pretty job and also CSI," you gestured at yourself then at him. "An idol? Doesn't make much sense."

"Maybe it does," he says, shaking again and at last gathering all the courage left in his bones to pinch his arm, so hard it hurt. You flinch as well.

Another blanket of silence descends over the room.

"I think we need to talk."

TAEHYUNG: All he remembers clearly is the pause of uncertainty, the step taken between childish innocence and the brutal adult reality. The reality of death which in this case was a red string cut short and fraying at the end of his pinky when it should have been stretching across the seas and dreams, across despair and misery. And it's on this hot summer afternoon, sunny and perfect, that Taehyung learns that love does not conquer all.

The office of the IBSSCI, the International Bureau of Soulmate System Crime Investigation respectively, is by far more shabby than he ever pictured. When Taehyung is brought into this two-story building it doesn't look like anything more than some chic-obsessed, eco-brutalism wannabe cafe he could honestly trip upon in certain streets of Seoul. The office in whose uncomfortable chairs he's been sat in is the size of the closet and looks like one as well. This person was grody. The half-eaten sandwich and cold cup of coffee were all the proof he needed.

____________ ______________, he reads on the glass plaque, you're a pig.

Someone walks in. A mountain of folders on two legs as far as he can see.

"Sorry about the wait, Mr Kim," they huffed. "The printer jammed and you see these papers," with a heavy thud, they dropped it on the desk, falling into the chair with an exhausted sigh. "Is no joke."

He nodded mutely along feeling like it was appropriate to do so.

"Do you want any coffee or tea?" you offered, pushing the mountain away and casting him a weirdly patronizing smile. Immediately, Taehyung bristled.

"Not if it's made like that," he pointed at the dirty cup.

"Depends on what you answer," the smile on your face didn't even flinch. "You do realize why you're here."

"Being scammed is not a crime," he scoffed.

"It is not," you agreed. "But if you gave nearly half a million to one shady group whose to say you won't do it again?"

He wrenched his eyes shut. He didn't mean to. But one by one the guys kept finding their soulmates, hell, even Hoseok, the actual fucking monochrome-based bond found his love. While Taehyung was happy for his friend he was also happy to have someone to be as miserable as him as selfish as it was.

And what would be the worst, he had thought, he would just lose his money and he had plenty of it. For the chance of finding a soulmate, he would give every single thing he owned. The clothes on his body, the sheets on his bed, all of it.

But the worst of it was actually murder. The scam group promised to find Taehyung a new person claiming the statistical basis of there being another in the case of death had in the end murdered one of the doctors who threatened to take this to the police and suddenly Taehyung found himself right in the heart of a criminal case. And while the scammers ran a high-level operation it didn't change the fact that Taehyung was now fundamentally a person involved in something as heinous as murder and it was his money that had guaranteed some of them to escape to international seas.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. "I never meant for any of this to happen."

"I understand," they spoke and for once they didn't sound mocking. "But Mr Kim, you have money and that is power. You must not give that power out of desperation."

As he opened his eyes, he saw them pushing a paper across the desk, their gloved hand tapping twice at it.

"This is, as you must know, a recovery form in the case of losing a soulmate. The program consists of 18 weeks of mandatory therapy, regular check-ins for a year as well as signing an oath of not partaking in any schemes or offers of finding or rebonding with a new soulmate that if breached can and will be held in the court of law. Do you understand?"

He gazed blankly into their eyes, limbs growing stiff.

"Taehyung!" Jimin called out.

"No, you don't get to speak! You don't get to pretend you understand! You have your soulmate! You have a chance! I was robbed of one! You will never understand what that's like!"

As he blinked the memory faded away but still, he felt no one will ever understand what that was like.

"Do you have a soulmate?" he croaked, fiddling with the pen meant to sign the form.

The person blinked and their lips thinned.

"I suppose I did," they said with ease but also with a thin veil of clearly deep inner sadness. "They died when I was an infant."

Taehyung sat straighter.

"So you know what that feels like? To be robbed, cruelly robbed not choosing, not doing wrong but not having anything from the start?"

He grimaced in order not to cry.

"I do but inflicting hurt on others...trying these insane methods and schemes," you trailed off. "It will do no good. No good for you, for anyone. It is evil for the sake of evil and that's it."

You offered him a tissue and he took it gratefully. Perhaps you were not so bad. Despite being grody.

Taehyung signed the form and with weary, tired legs, trailed after you to the main exit.

"As the person assigned to this case, I will be overseeing your check-in period," you explained navigating the cement stairs seemingly spiralling in all logical and illogical directions.

"You're a social worker as well?" Taehyung ironized roughly and you offered him a crooked smile.

"Budget cuts."

As you scanned your ID the doors flashed red.

"Oh, come on," you wiped the chip on the card against your pants but no such luck. Again and again, it flashed red. Finally, with a loud growl of annoyance you yanked the black glove off your left hand to wipe the chip by hand and on it, Taehyung saw a string.

A red string.

Around your pinky.

Cut and frayed in the middle.

Exactly like his.

It unfurled on the ground and dazed Taehyung reached to grasp it. He held the thin yarn like a dying butterfly and pulled at last gently its end. Your hand moved along with it.

JUNGKOOK: He really wants to be happy. And he is. Somewhere underneath the surging wave of anger, he is really happy. And he'll show it to you one day. After he's done scolding you.

Because at the exact moment when he walks through the street, late in the evening, cold rain pouring on his umbrella, he glances through the window of a restaurant and sees a person shoving an entire sugar cube on their tongue.

He feels sugar explode in his mouth.

Pure, unrefined, choking sugar.

And the next thing he knows he's pointing a finger in your unsuspecting face.

"You piece of shit! You actual dumbass!" he yells and people around him are startled. Though none more than you. You, whose sitting in your stupid seat and whose stupid sugar-addicted mouth still chews on that sugar cube like a horse.

"Does dental hygiene means nothing to you? Diabetes?! Health overall?!" he keeps pointing at you at every single word to portray the full scope of what tasting constant sugar every day for consecutive 18 years does to a person.

"How many holes do you have in your teeth right now?! Tell me!"

You blink up at him owlishly and also part terrified. Even the music of the restaurant seems somewhat muted as the crowd looks on at this, the most bizarre of lover's quarrel.

And he shouldn't, he really shouldn't, but he finds it cute.

"Three," you mutter demurely and a pout forms on your lips. Jungkook wonders if they're sweet as well. Should be considering the amount of sugar you consume.

"Just went to a dentist..."

"And you're still swallowing sugar cubes?! WHOLE ASS SUGAR CUBES?!"

"YOU EAT RAMEN AT 3 AM!" you yell back, a sudden fire gaining in your eyes. "OR DRINK SOME SHIT LIKE ICE CUBED VINE!! AND YOU'RE BLAMING ME FOR SUGAR WHEN YOU'RE OUT HERE COMMITTING GASTRONOMICAL WAR CRIMES?!"

And now this one Jungkook shouldn't, he really should not, but he finds you yelling at him hot.

And he wants to know what you taste like.

"YOU EVER WONDERED THAT THE REASON WHY I EAT SO MUCH SUGAR IS TO MASK THE HORRENDOUS ABOMINATIONS YOU PUSH DOWN YOUR THROAT?! AND DON'T EVEN THINK I HAVEN'T TASTED SOMEONE ELSE'S CU-"

In the end, they're kicked out. You stand in the rain, pouting and glaring at him in earnest and whilst doing the same he extends the umbrella over your head.

"I don't like you," you scoff and he does the same.

"Neither do I."

"You're a pig of an eater."

"You're a sugar addict."

A pause.

"I'm leaving," you huff, making no indication to leave.

"Then go," Jungkook snaps, actually taking a step closer.

He thinks he tastes anxiety on his tongue. Whether it's his own or yours he can't tell.

"You're overbearing," you mutter while slightly moving forth.

"You're insufferable," Jungkook is not far behind, neither in space nor insults. He wraps a hand around your waist and finds it perfect. The way you press against him is perfect.

"You make me nauseous," you whisper, gaze dropping to his pierced lip.

"I'm absolutely sick of you," he breathes the air you exhale and then closes the small space and learns what you taste like.

When the umbrella falls out of his hands and falls upon the rain-soaked pavement, he tastes rainwater in his mouth. And as expected that too tastes sweet.

© soraviii/soraviie 2022-2023

[buddienotes]

i know we're tired by now, but i have one take on only friends characters that i think we might be overlooking because of our own personal attachments (to them AND the actors).

you might have heard before of mirror/parallel characters (if you haven't, i'd recommend the read about it because it's very interesting) and whether it's the writers' purpose or not, i think we have these in the main six.

"Parallel characters, also known as mirror characters, are characters who share many similarities with each other. These similarities can be related to the characters' personalities, backgrounds, or motivations. By having so much in common, they are then able to highlight the differences between their decisions. The characters complement each other while revealing truths about each other that would otherwise have been difficult to spot."

my two cents on who is mirroring who in only friends is:

top - ray

mew - sand

boston - nick

if you leave favouritism at the door and pay real attention to these characters' background and personalities you'll see they're actually very similar, but they're moving on different directions because of, obviously, their different realities, surroundings, etc. what makes us, us.

top and ray are both rich kids with a sad past, and apparently problems with their parents, who ended up turning to drugs as a coping mechanism; both used to getting what they want, when they want and not taking a no for an answer. and funnily enough, maybe that's why they both despise each other (and fell for mew). i think these two are the most obvious mirror and it's what makes funnier to watch how different are the fandom's reactions for their actions every week. they're pretty much the same font, in different notebooks.

mew and sand are also easy to notice: quiet guys that are mostly worried about doing their own things and not messing with anyone's business; both very vocal about their needs and intentions and the only ones who seem to know how to draw and not to cross a line. the fact they end up getting involved with top and ray draws another interesting mirror: we can see two pairs with people that are pretty similar, but with very different routes.

it's almost like saying: hey, look at a&b and now look at c&d - this is what a&b could've been, under these circumstances - with different choices.

for boston and nick, i feel like it's more of a reach, but you can see they also have their similarities or they wouldn't have hit from the start (like let's be for real, that was insanity). i see them as the only ones that could understand each other, to the point that boston might not even think nick bugging his car was creepy (just be pissed bc it was behind his back). but then again, boston wears his insanity proudly while nick is more reserved: still, deep down they're very alike (in nick's own words, he's also nasty).

on another note, we have the public view on all of this: you just don't see them reacting with the same fervor about the similarities of the characters. for example, top has been painted as a red flag for doing things ray has as well - but ray is a lonely guy who needs love and care; not top. meanwhile, sand have been clapped as the most unproblematic character, but mew is definitely plotting something behind his good guy act. on boston and nick, there's just not much discourse even tho boston is pretty much the drama, so i'll leave it at that, but i think we took longer to judge nick for his actions, since he is quieter.

there's a quote that says:

"It is funny how different mirrors reveal different aspects, it must be like people you meet, you get to prefer the ones who show an image of you that you like." — Alain Bremond-Torrent

which i see like: even though these characters are very much alike, people keep picking this or that side because of their own perspectives on life, which don't necessarily means this or that character is in the wrong or is better than the other, but some interpretations have been muddled because of their own traits (or preferences?).

back to my first point, i don't know if the writers intended to make them like this on purpose, but the weekly discourse is showing how the reactions on very sensitive topics are just not the same if you just switch the character (or may i say, the actor?), to what i believe is one of the reasons behind writing mirror characters.

but the conclusion is, none of these characters are blank pages and they all have their wrongs. it doesn't make them villains or protagonists - they're all just parallel lines going through this mess and i wish we, as viewers, could be more impartial when judging those actions. when something is wrong, it is, no matter the one behind it. so let's stop witch-hunting some while patting the head of others.

[musekicker]

More Bakery Imp oc stuff, involving Fizz bringing Blitz to the bakery in question.

The sign declared the place as "Sweet Dicks.", the I in the sign shaped like a penis. A natural sort of word font play on the lust ring. And the amount of penis and boob shaped treats in the store window were not exactly a unusual sight either for this ring.

Blitz had seen the place in passing before during his occasional trips to the lust ring. But he had never stepped through the doors of the place. Not until today. It had been Fizz's idea really. A spur of the moment thing when Fizz knew that Blitz just happened to be in the ring. Blitz, glad to have a moment where he could get some more heavy stuff off of his mind, accepted the offer for this short trip.

There were body guards near by. A necessity since Fizz's quitting working for Mammon and Ozzie's public declaration that he loved Fizz. Fizz had told Blitz about the greatly increased moments where someone from the media, trying to get a interview or pictures had tried to get close. And those had been the less creepy or dangerous ones. And though Blitz was always armed and was aware of the danger, it only made sense to have backup.

Two of the hell hounds stood outside the bakery, guarding the doors. Another hell hound entered the bakery with the two imps. They wouldn't have too many people to keep a eye on. The place was empty at this time, so close to after the opening time. Those looking for a morning snack would not be here for at least a half hour more. Fizz knew this it seemed as he had insisted this was the best time to go to this bakery because less people would be there.

"This place is the best. Their dickerdoodles are just the best thing." Fizz said.

"Of course you like the treat with the word dick in it." Blitz commented with a smirk.

"Fuck you." Fizz replied good in a good nature tone.

The decor of the bakery was not unusual for both a bakery and the lust ring. Poster side photos of some of the bakery's best selling treats and a award or two the bakery had won hung on the wall. Tile floor, in a white and peach checkerboard pattern. The walls were painted peach as well. There was even some spots to sit and enjoy the treats, tables and chairs set up.

With all that that main draw was the front counter with it's many treats on display in the display case. Behind the counter was a imp. She was thin, almost all angles in her body shape. Short,shoulder length straight black hair and black lipstick. The black blouse, skirt, and tights she wore cemented her more dark and moody look.

Reading a book at the time, some horror title. And she had only noticed the entrance of the two imps and the hell hound guard with how the bell at the front rang at the opening of the door. She glanced up, putting the book away because of customers.

"Bitter! Hey!" Fizz called out to the counter imp.

The imp smiled, it not a bit stiffly in a manner that suggested she didn't do it that often.

"Well fuck, if it isn't Fizzarolli. How are you and Asmodeus doing?" the counter imp asked with a bit more energy then Blitz had expected to see from her.

"We're doing great. Lots of problems with the media and creeps. But other then that.." Fizz said.

"Congratulations for going public with your relationship by the way." Bitter said.

"Let me guess, you knew because everyone already knew?" Fizz asked.

"Yeahhhh. Oh, Doreen will want to see you. Hey! "Doreen! Fizz is here!" Bitter called out to the kitchen.

The sound of quick moving hooves on tile, and the door to the kitchen opened. Blitz had to wait for the imp that had stepped through the door to go past the front counter to really catch sight of her. Doreen was on the short side, with a squat body shape. Her hair had to be bigger then her body, and her horns stuck out as if she were a mini longhorn cow.

Just something about how she moved screamed Wrath ring imp to Blitz. And her accent when she spoke was more of a clue.

"Fizz! I wasn't expecting you to show up here today." the short imp said.

"Sorry Doreen. I would had called ahead but this visit was sort of a spur of the moment thing." Fizz said.

Fizz seemed to be very well liked here. Blitz supposed it could had been the business that both Fizz and Asmodeus brought to the bakery. But there really did seem to be a actual care from the two imps he met so far.

Bitter was moving to join in the conversation when her phone rang. She looked at the call number and sighed.

"I got to take this call. Mind if I duck out quickly?" Bitter asked Doreen.

Doreen waved a hand, not bothered at this request it seemed.

"You go right ahead. I got this." Doreen said. "Make sure you get back before the morning rush though."

"Will do." Bitter said.

Bitter hurried off towards the entrance, the hell hound at the door being polite enough to open the door for her. She nodded at them in acknowledgement and hurried out. Doreen focused on Fizz once more.

"It's a pleasure to see you today. And oh, who is your friend?" Doreen asked.

"This is Blitz." Fizz said.

"The o is silent." Blitz added in.

Blitz got the sense that his name had been uttered more the once here as Doreen's expression turned just a bit cold at the mention of it. Those eyes were laser focused on Blitz.

"Isn't that guy you said you really, really hated." Doreen asked.

Blitz noted that Doreen's was holding a cake serving knife. And said knife was now pointed right in Blitz's direction. Though Fizz tried to hide his worry, Blitz was getting the sense he was worried she use it.

"No, no. No need for the knife. Stuff happened, we talked, We're good now." Fizz said quickly.

"Ah. That's all I need to know." Doreen said.

The cake serving knife was no longer pointed right at him and that cold look was gone in a blink. Blitz was glad for that. He had the idea that Doreen was not someone he wished to get into a fist fight with. She looked like she could wrestle a full grown hell hog and win.

With Doreen not being threatening looking now though, she had a very sweet as pie attitude it seemed. Pretty much beaming to see Fizz.

"Now that you introduced me to your friend, want your usual?" Doreen asked.

"You know it." Fizz said.

A quick glance to the side to where Blitz stood.

"You want anything?" Fizz asked Blitz.

Blitz shrugged slightly.

"I would but I don't exactly have a lot of money to spend and this place looks like it might be out of my price range." Blitz admitted.

"Yeah, I think it is. But don't worry about it, I got you." Fizz said.

Blitz wasn't exactly sure how to feel about that. He knew Fizz meant well but.. It was hard for Blitz to word to even himself. But he decided to not share that unease. They were rebuilding their friendship. Now didn't feel like the time to bring this up.

"In that case, i could get something." Blitz said.

"Why don't you take a look at our menu? Take your time." Doreen said.

The menu was located over the counter, the writing in big letters for easy reading. He noted that many of the treats here had a lot of puns. Dickerdooles, dough-nuts. There was a theme to this place for sure. Before he could really focus on the idea of treats however, he was most interested in getting a drink first.

"Do have coffee here?" Blitz asked, still reading the menu.

Doreen's expression changed. Not angry this time thank goodness, more like annoyed.

"No. Sadly most folks who come in here have already gotten their coffee from the place across the street by time they get here." Doreen explained that look of annoyance still on her face.

Blitz looked out the window, took one look at the coffee place and scowled.

"That place? I had the coffee there once and never again. The coffee there is shit. And the owner smells like trash." Blitz said.

At that declaration Doreen grinned big.

"Now I know we're going to get along for sure." Doreen said. "You even get a Boob-berry muffin, on the house."

"Um, thanks?" Blitz said.

As Doreen became engrossed with getting one of the good sized blueberry muffins from the display case, Blitz leaned over towards Fizz to whisper a question to him.

"Did I miss something?" Blitz asked.

"Her ex husband owns the coffee shop across the street." Fizz informed Blitz. "They do not get along."

"Ah." Blitz said.

"The only good thing to come out of that shop if Milo's boyfriend." Doreen said, having clearly heard the whispered conversation.

Fizz looked just a tiny bit startled before remembering a detail.

"I forgot your hearing is so good." Fizz said.

"That's why I was so good at digging up hell critters from gardens. Could hear them digging under the dirt. I made a business out of it before I got into baking." Doreen explained.

She handed the Boob-berry muffin to Blitz. Blitz had to admit that the Boob-berry muffin looked very good. Add that to the fact it was still warm and the smell coming from it was so good that he didn't want to wait much longer to taste the treat. And he didn't wait. He took a big bite out of the muffin.

The muffin was a mouthful of warm, melt in your mouth goodness. And the blueberries had a texture that was not at all too off or too wet. There was a taste of orange to the whole thing too and Blitz had to wonder where the orange had been added in.

"What do you think?" Doreen asked with a grin that told Blitz that she already knew what Blitz thought.

Blitz was more then happy to let her know what he felt for sure though.

"Shit, I'd kill for more of these." Blitz said

"Isn't killing people your job?" Fizz asked.

"Yeah, but I'd kill more if it meant more Boob-Berry muffins." Blitz said.

"That is the nicest thing that had ever been said about the baked goods here." Doreen said.

She hurried over towards the door behind the counter, leading to the kitchen Blitz would guess. Opening the door, Doreen peeked her head into the kitchen.

"Hey Sweet! This fella said that he would kill people to eat more of the Boob-Berry muffins you made." Doreen called out.

A flurry of hooves tapping on the tile and another imp came to the kitchen door way. She was taller then Doreen, and had a bit of a more pink hue to her skin then any other imp Blitz had seen before. With black hair that had a bounce to it with a pop of yellow color from her barrettes. The barrettes looked good with the powder blue blouse she worse with her black skirt.

 Her horns slightly curved at a angle. And she also looked as if she worked out possibly as her arms had muscles.

"Who said they kill for more of Boob-Berry muffins? I- oh! Fizz i didn't know you were here today!" Sweet said.

Blitz raised a hand. Sweet just about was jumping in place and her hands clasped together.

"I'm so glad that you like them! Their my personal favorites too." Sweet said. "Tell me, could you taste the bit of orange I added to it?"

"Actually, I could." Blitz said.

That seemed to make the bubbly imp even happier.

"Thank goodness! I was worried I hadn't added enough orange to make it stand out. I was also so worried about drowning out the blueberry." Sweet admitted.

Blitz was about to reply to that comment when the front door opened again. Blitz thought perhaps it would be Bitter returning, but no. Another different imp.

The new imp looked young, around at least a year or two out of college age. Short, curly hair and horns that were long, straight, and at a tilt. On the shorter side and his yellow sweatshirt looked bigger then he was somewhat. Adding more to the look of being smaller.

He had clearly hurried here, gasping and taking a moment to get his breath. When he finally was able to speak, it was a apology.

"I'm sorry I'm late! I don't know how it happened but I slept through my alarm!" the new imp cried.

"I was wondering why there wasn't some art on the chalkboard sign outside." Fizz said.

Milo just seemed to notice Fizz now. How he had missed the presence of the hell hound body guards was a question. But then, trying to hurry could make one miss the obvious.

"Oh hey Fizz! Nice to see you." he said to Fizz. "Whose your friend?"

"This is Blitz, and yes, we're friends now." Fizz said, adding in the last part really quickly.

Blitz was fairly sure that he could take Milo in a fight if he had to at least. Not that it looked like Milo was particularly looking to get into one.

"This is our head decorator, Milo." Doreen said. "A very skilled artist."

She had introduced him as if she were a proud parent. Milo himself smiled warmly.

"Thank you. I'm doing my best with my art. But about being late-" Milo said.

"You're okay Milo. It's not like you're late all the time." Doreen said. "And I assume that you and Devlin having another movie night?"

Milo's slightly blush up around the base of his horns was enough of a answer.

"That's a yes." Sweet said.

Milo hid a part of his face in the opening of his sweatshirt.

"Really, That young man is the only good thing to come out of that  coffee shop. Why that sweet heart is still working there I'll never know." Doreen said

Milo, very ready to change the subject moved towards the kitchen.

"I need to get started on that big order for Friday. Cupcakes and cakes don't decorate themselves." Milo said.

Milo hurried back to the kitchen. If that was because he really wanted to get started on the order or to avoid some more small embarrassment, it was hard to tell. Could had very well been both.

For the rest of time that Fizz and Blitz were at the bakery, sitting at one of the set up chairs and table, they met no one else who worked at the bakery. It gave the two imps time to chat. And Doreen had sent Bitter out to get coffee for them at a good coffee place. So they had a nice drink to go along with their treats.

Before they left Blitz stopped at the counter.

"Hey, can I get another one of these bitches?" Blitz asked, eyes locked on the Boob-Berry muffins.

[jediknightjameslunagazer23]

Finally got around to doing something I'm more knowledgeable on and had a major passion for as a main franchise besides Trauma Center, and sort of going back to James Lunagazer's original OC roots and giving it an updated look, mostly based off an Jedi cosplay I have IRL, which I might show as a live-action version of James if I'm feeling confident to.

Because yeah, James as you can probably guess by my username originally was mainly a Star Wars OC before I started doing fanart and crafting a story of him during the Trauma Center Manga, and funny fact, this James and the one in the Trauma Center Universe were actually supposed to be one and the same, but I ultimately decided to split them.

Character wise, this James isn't too different from his Trauma Center incarnation, except he has the power of the force and can still heal others as a Jedi Healer, except he doesn't have Apollo the Greek God as part of that.

And funny fact, the Jedi Healer thing was inspired by the Trauma Center Manga since before I started officially doing fanart for it!

As for his role in the Clone Wars, it probably wouldn't be very much in wide scope, just probably a typical Jedi Padawan fighting his way to survive in the Clone Wars, while totally not ending up involved in some conspiracy of his own outside the main Skywalker Saga!

As for the blue Jedi robes, well he didn't get these until much later before the outbreak of Clone Wars, shortly after the Battle of Genonosis, it was only after he formally joined the Republic's medical crops as a Jedi Healer, as I'd imagine blue would probably be the primary Jedi Healer colour much like it is for regular doctors or surgeons.

Lightsaber combat wise, he's not the best dueling wise, as he often tends to hang back half the time, and uses the same lightsaber form Master Kenobi is famous for, Soresu or the defensive style, suiting his Healer status though if later developed he can be the powerful offensive fighter.

I'll probably do more with Star Wars Universe James Lunagazer, and some of his noteworthy interactions and his own events some other day, but other than that, I'd say I've outdone myself with this updated look for him, sans the cowl he's known for but that could be a later addition to his outfit after a major event.

Also might use this as an updated profile picture, since the current one is kinda aging a bit.

Oh yeah, and for those curious about the letters on the side and aren't familiar with the Star Wars franchise, it's Aurebesh, and if you're interested there's a font for that over on dafont.com if you want to download and use it for Star Wars stuff, it even has some translations of the words used.

See you later in an Galaxy not so far away next time, and BTW this is mostly comfort for the upcoming Jedi Surivour game being pushed back to April, so I'll probably be drawing Cal Kestis the main character of that game sometime as he's another of my favourites I connect with.

[the-writers-wrench]

I posted 573 times in 2022

That's 17 more posts than 2021!

13 posts created (2%)

560 posts reblogged (98%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@irishironclad

@tiny-dragons-tea-room

@supreme-leader-stoat

@she-is-amused

I tagged 208 of my posts in 2022

#writing advice - 35 posts

#writing refs - 23 posts

#sd - 17 posts

#tmatow - 11 posts

#characterization - 8 posts

#lotr - 5 posts

#writing - 3 posts

#heehee - 3 posts

#but good - 2 posts

#huh - 2 posts

Longest Tag: 133 characters

#that might be causing me problems now but i wouldn't be in a position to have those problems as a writer if it weren't for fanfiction

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

Thinking about editing (while transcribing from paper to word doc): Ugh, this is the worst. I hate reading back over my stuff

Actually editing: I think I might've been hyping this up

0 notes - Posted March 14, 2022

#4

I just used character names in my Pathfinder Campaign as NPCs. Now to see if anyone actually reads the chapters I send out.

0 notes - Posted February 2, 2022

#3

Me, starting Harry Turtledove's Southern Victory series: Oh neat what an interesting take on how the Great War might've gone differently

Me, six books in: Okay so this was basically the Great War and interwar if it was also fought on the American continent. The CSA is now Nazi Germany and about to pull a fast one on the "Totally not the French" USA

3 notes - Posted August 23, 2022

#2

You have a typewriter? Lemme see it and also where do I get one I want one it’s the only weird writing shit I don’t have.

I have two actually! First one I got was a 1969 Smith Corona Super Sterling. Named him Wesley Smith O' Rona for reminding me of Smith and Wesson and being a Corona in the Corona pandemic (it might be weird to name typewriters, but IDK). Interesting feature is that the top part slides forward instead of hinging up like most typewriters.

The second one I got was a Royal Quiet De Luxe from (I think, based on serial numbers) 1951. She is named Reine Ginny De Luxe Tranquil for being a Royal Quiet I got in Virginia. She is from the era when typewriters didn't have a 1 key, and instead used a lowercase L to denote 1s. That's why many older fonts have 1s and Ls look very similar. Of the two, she is in a bit better material condition and the one I use the most. Fun fact, apparently Ian Flemming and Ernest Hemingway both used them extensively. Flemming even bought a gold plated one as a reward for finishing Casino Royale and wrote the rest of the James Bond stories on it.

See the full post

14 notes - Posted May 10, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Forget Dante’s Inferno, C.S. Lewis’ “The Screwtape Letters” is the Christian fan fiction we should base our public interpretation of hell on.

One of the things that draws me most to it I think is how insidious screwtape is. You pick up early on that he’s a demon writing to another younger demon, but the way he writes seems like he genuinely cares about his nephew wormwood and his client. Kind of like how sin is starting out. Gentle and welcoming, enticing you with the good side. It’s not until wormwood begins to fail or stumble repeatedly that screwtape’s letters turn more nasty and mean. IRL with sin, that’s when after it’s got hooks into you and you begin to chafe against it. It’s not until the end that we see the true nature of screwtape and wormwood’s relationship. Rather than the familial (if increasingly frustrated) relationship portrayed, the only thing wormwood truly means to screwtape is the ticket to another meal. We get hints of this throughout the book, but I think the final letter really hits it home. One way or another, screwtape is getting a meal. And as much as a small part of me wanted wormwood’s blunders to be part of a realization of God’s grace and the beginning of a redemption arc, I also knew that if the roles were reversed the end result would be the same. The reversal of the meanings of “My dear Wormwood” and “Your affectionate uncle” sent chills down my spine.

Another thing that stood out to me was screwtape’s opinion of “the enemy”. Most of the content of his letters alternate between offering suggestions for wormwood to tempt his patient (more than a few had me going introspective to my own actions) and railing against God. None of the demons seem to understand why God does what he does, because they seem incapable of understanding who he is. All they see is someone standing in between them and a feast of souls. Therefor, he must be the bad guy, and they must win in the end because humans are dumb cattle and he’s the bad guy.

The last bit, a later addition where screwtape proposes a toast to the graduating class of the demon college, is more political than the first book, but something that could’ve been written yesterday. Screwtape had talked about social issues previously, but this was a cranking up of the dial. Everything from how we’re being turned more adversarial against fellow man, how equality of outcome is being turned into the definition of democracy, these are issues we’re facing to this day. I had to check when C.S. Lewis wrote this and when he died, just to be sure he hadn’t somehow survived into the 21st century. Perhaps it’s more political than the previous letters and makes a bit of a jarring transition, but considering 20 years passed between the original book and the toast, and the fact they weren’t originally meant to be bundled together, I’m willing to give it a pass. That, and the fact we were dealing with the same issues 60 years ago is strangely comforting. Nothing new is under the sun. It was here already, long ago; it was here before our time.

32 notes - Posted June 28, 2022

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[tellerluna-stories]

SAY SOMETHING STUPID (LIKE I LOVE YOU)

PAIRING: kaeya x reader

GENRE: fluff/crack, comedy. established relationship + modern AU!

TW/CW: intoxication and mentions of alcohol consumption, reader is a total featherweight. probably OOC. may contain secondhand embarassment for people who do not wish to remember the embarassing shenanigans they pulled when wasted

A/N: shoutout to everyone's favourite sunny-bunny @x-zho, who gave me the brilliant idea for this fic and is also the biggest!!!! kaeya kisser I know!!!!!!!! if you are ten and you are reading this, all I can say is.... ehe

also I'm trying a new format for fic titles so bear with me,,,, lmk which one looks better, the old font or the current style!

"You know, normally this situation is reversed," Kaeya calls out, but you appear to not have heard him. Well, given the state of your flushed face and the strong smell of alcohol that pervaded the air about you, he'd be surprised if you had understood him at all.

A soft, slightly off-key tune fills the chilly night air, hummed by none other than his truly— your legs swing busily as you perch on the edge of a nearby bench, mesmerised by the light of the street-lamp like you were some sort of oversized bug. Your face lights up as soon as he draws near, and one hand shoots up in the air to flail wildly (was that meant to be waving hello?)

Before he knows what's happening, something speeds over and hops all around him like a rabbit— it seems that you're only too happy to see Kaeya, inebriated as you are.

"Kae-ya! Kaeya, Kae-ya, 'ya..." Your voice is more high-pitched than normal, trailing off as you clap your hands merrily to the tempo of your little song. "Can I call you 'yaya? Is cute....."

Kaeya — or 'Yaya', as he has now been dubbed — stifles his laughter long enough for him to lead you back to the bench. "I think it's safe to assume you're a total lightweight."

Your arm looped in his (and your weight leaned entirely against him), you scrunch up your nose in annoyance. "Am not."

"Are too. You, little rabbit, are completely wasted."

"-'m not drunk." Your nose crinkles up even further and twitches like a bunny's. "And- and I'm not a light... a light....."

"...A lightweight?"

"Mm!" Now that your missing word had been found, you practically grin from ear-to-ear and flop over into his lap. "I'm not a light waiter."

(The four shot-glasses of heavily-diluted alcohol that you had downed begged to differ, sadly.)

Kaeya sucks in his breath between his teeth — don't laugh, Alberich, don't laugh — and decides that the best course of action is to stroke your hair; to calm you down, of course (though it's more for his own sanity than yours). On any other occasion he would have liked to retire and melt over you in private, but today he had the responsibility and privilege of taking care of you.

"Pretty, pretty eyes..." You interrupt Kaeya's train of thought with a soft murmur, reverently tracing your fingers along his face like he was a priceless work of art. "Starry, blueberry eyes— 'yaya's eyes are the prettiest in the world."

If Kaeya hadn't already been struggling enough before, everything now became ten times more difficult.

"You're really being unfair here." A small laugh escapes his lips, and Kaeya takes your face in his hands to press a soft kiss to your forehead. "I'll bring you some soup and hangover medicine tomorrow, alright? You're going to need it."

You nod enthusiastically, your rosy cheeks only heating up further in the palms of his hands— any hotter, and he was pretty sure you'd be melting into a puddle. Though it wouldn't be so bad if it meant that you melted into his arms.

"Am I pretty too, 'yaya?"

"Oh, but of course."

"Hehe." You beam infectiously, wriggling in delight like an overjoyed worm— heaven help him, he could only hold back his laughter for so long. "Okaaaaay... I believe you."

A glimmering of an idea springs to mind, and Kaeya brings out his cellphone in order to execute his master plan. "We should take a picture. Pretty people should take pretty pictures together."

"A pic-tuuuure....."

He tactfully resists the urge to have a breakdown from your adorable behaviour as you readily comply with his wishes, throwing up a couple of peace signs and posing for what was about to become his new phone wallpaper to show you tomorrow— surely, there was no luckier man on this earth than Kaeya Alberich himself.

He makes sure to take at least fifty more pictures, just in case. No harm in having more blackmail to tease you about.

"Yay!" You applaud enthusiastically once the impromptu photoshoot is finished, flopping back into Kaeya's lap with the stability of unsettled gelatin. "I have a pic-tuuuure with 'yaya!"

And there were those innocent eyes again, gazing up at him with such adoration that it made Kaeya's cheeks burn; yes, getting to capture this moment would be well worth whatever future scoldings he would receive from you.

"Silly rabbit," he remarks aloud, ruffling your hair affectionately.

"Not a rabbit...." You mumble softly.

"Really? I thought you looked just like one. See, here's one ear..." He tugs one tuft of your hair upwards to vaguely resemble a floppy ear, and then does the same for the other side. "And here's the other."

"If 'yaya says so, then it must be true..." By this time your eyelids had already fluttered shut, soothed by the soft motion as he stroked your hair. "But what're you, if... if...... I'm a bunny rabbit?"

"How about the big, bad wolf? One who loves teasing cute bunnies when they're all sleepy?"

You open your eyes suddenly, a sulky look on your face. "Do you know any other bunnies to tease...?"

Whoops, wrong move.

"No, no," Kaeya hastily backtracks. "This wolf only needs one bunny in his life. Wolves mate for life."

"Good..." You huff and yank the edge of his overcoat over your face. "You don't need any more."

Suddenly you jolt upright, your arms finding their place around his neck in a tight hug. Kaeya freezes for a moment, his breath catching in his lungs as his life flashes before his eyes— but thankfully, you were not in the right state of mind to give him a headlock.

Slowly, hesitantly, he returns your embrace.

"My 'yaya," You mumble softly, snuggling your face further into the crook of his neck.

"Yes," he agrees, smiling softly. "All yours."

You were probably going to kill him or die of embarassment once you sobered up, but well... Kaeya would enjoy the moment while it lasted.

[littlemissnoname13]

Sharing an apartment with the Slytherins would include:

Featuring: Slytherin!Reader ,Pansy Parkinson, Blaise Zabini, Theodore Nott & Draco Malfoy ( sharing a flat in the muggle world)

Warnings: Crack fic, a few mentions of alcohol, very mild sexual themes

A/n: I’ve been watching too many sitcoms lately.This is my first time writing something like this. I’m so sleep deprived.

Masterlist

Sharing an apartment just to be around eachother even though almost all of them have enough galleons for an entire house in their respective gringotts vaults 

The first thing you all dragged up four storeys was a couch

Passing around a bottle of fire whisky as the five of you struggled to fit on the couch while drawing up your own personalised roommate agreement 

Draco giving you a dissatisfied frown. “What do you mean I can’t display my family’s dark artifacts on the TV unit?”

Theo looking equally unimpressed as Draco “Yeah, what am I supposed to do with my Time turner?”

“That's an illegal object Theodore.”

The entire living room slowly starting to resemble the Slytherin Common Room as the five of you start decorating

Telling the boys that not everything has to be green

Getting one of those door mats that read “wizards welcome. Muggles tolerated.”

Also the words “Cunning, Ambitious, Resourceful” written in pretty font somewhere around the house

Theo constantly losing his house keys

“Borrowing” from Pansy’s collection of killer outfits.

Of course she wouldn't mind considering the fact that your jacket is still tucked away somewhere in her closet.

A random girl leaving Draco’s room ever so often while the rest of you place your bets on “how long that will last”

Draco noticing Blaise handing you five galleons as his latest girl stomps out of the apartment with her high heels in her hand

Reminding everyone to behave themselves when you have someone new over 

This almost never works out and the person runs out of your home claiming that the five of you are nuts and need help

Hearing moans coming from Theo’s room in the middle of the night and knocking on the wall, reminding him that “people have jobs that require them to wake up early in the morning!”

The four of you being protective and interrogating Pansy’s questionable date for the night while she is still getting ready.

Surprise birthdays!!

Pamper and gossip nights with Pansy in your bathrobes, wearing clay masks and drinking wine while the boys are out.

The boys scratching their heads, looking at the two of you wearing ridiculous looking eye masks when they return home

Them eventually joining the two of you and you end up applying the clay mask on their faces too

Blaise sleeping with his mouth slightly open on the couch and Draco reluctantly throwing a knitted blanket over his body before disappearing into his own room

Blaise being the mum friend of the group. Constantly cleaning the house, and prepping food and buying groceries

Blaise, telling everyone off for not doing their share of house chores

Having a strict “no house elf” policy even though they were not too keen on the idea 

Strange things happening at your apartment on the daily ranging from failed potion experiments to magical creatures gone wild

Pansy running into the apartment breathless and locking the door behind her. “The lady next door gave me a bone chilling glare today. You lot ought to be careful with your bloody potions.” 

“Why do we have so much purple shampoo?”

Draco running in to grab all his bottles of purple shampoo, conditioner and toner and telling you off for going through his stuff.

“Its a communal bathroom Draco!”

Slytherin memorabilia. So much of it. So much of it everywhere. 

Being there for each other on the bad days and the good days

Attending other people’s weddings and birthdays and Anniversaries together even though all of you would rather stay in and watch a horror film

Bringing each other anti hangover concoctions after a rough night of partying

Greeting cards, post it notes, postcards and polaroids on the fridge 

An unfortunate looking photograph of the five of you together, framed and hanging on the wall

Blaise complaining that he wasn't ready for the photo but the rest of you ignore him because none of you look good in it either

You guys were each other’s chosen families

Probably screwing up and falling for one of your roommates..

Im too tired to sort out my tag list for this one. Soz :(

[vasilikosu]

;; 𝔔𝔬𝔪𝔢 𝔒𝔫 𝔓𝔢𝔣𝔬𝔯𝔢 𝔜𝔬𝔲 𝔔𝔞𝔱𝔠𝔥 𝔄 𝔔𝔬𝔩𝔡, 𝔖𝔦𝔩𝔩𝔶~ ;;

This was my old style and I think I'm going to stay with and it only took a month to decide that! ;-;" I went back to IbisPaintX since I'm far more comfortable with it? I just can't seem to draw my best when I'm using MediBang.

I also tend to write in my spare time and since the little story was added on another place and I just decided to put it here too, it's a little lazy so I apologize! I was mainly just having fun and not really caring how it turned out.

_____________________________

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;; 𝔔𝔬𝔪𝔢 𝔒𝔫 𝔓𝔢𝔣𝔬𝔯𝔢 𝔜𝔬𝔲 𝔔𝔞𝔱𝔠𝔥 𝔄 𝔔𝔬𝔩𝔡, 𝔖𝔦𝔩𝔩𝔶~ ;;

𝐷𝑟𝐼𝑛𝑘-

{𝐼𝑛𝑘 X 𝐷𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑚}

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;; If the font doesn't show on your device;

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;; Come On Before You Catch A Cold, Silly~ ;;

DrInk-

{Ink X Dream}

╰────────────༺♡༻────────────╯

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Dream signed as he stared out of the window; he was staying a few nights with Blue after Nightmare had found where he was taking refuge. Luckily for Dream, Blue's world had a true pacifist; allowing Dream to enjoy the surface.

It was currently raining, slightly darkening the once bright sun. Dream sometimes found the rain calming, but it only sent shivers down his spine this time.

Dream didn't know what it was about the house, but the place turned eerie every time it rained, and it began creeping him out.

Dream sat up from the window seal and walked toward the door; where he slipped his boots on before grabbing a baby blue umbrella from the holder.

Staying in the house would only paranoia him further, and after the recent events, it would be easy for him to get stressed in such an eerie environment! Before opening the umbrella- Dream stepped outside onto the protected porch.

Opening them inside was never a positive experience for the guardian; usually, it was knocking something down or poking his socket, After opening the umbrella Dream stepped out onto the concrete where rain droplets slammed down. Dream would be lying if he said he was familiar with the place and the slight fear of getting lost set in, but if it meant being away from the house; it was worth it.

Dream couldn't understand why Ink wouldn't allow him in the DoodleSphere just once? Nobody could enter the place without him, and it would be safe heaven from Nightmare, but Dream wasn't one to argue about not being welcomed into someone's home, even if that someone was his boyfriend.

Dream looked around the park he had entered before taking a turn down the path he hadn't gone down before; the section was mainly surrounded by tree's that went down toward a pond area with a bench.

Dream approached the bench before taking a seat, not minding the fact that it was soaked. Dream yawned as he relaxed his posture, slightly hunching over while making sure the umbrella still covered him.

"Mind if I join ya?"

Dream flinched at the voice; he hadn't expected someone else to be out at the park in this weather, Dream slowly looked up to see the person.

"Ink? What are you doing out here in the pouring rain, honey?" Ink sat down on the bench as the rain continued to pour on him; he was soaked from the rain and didn't seem to mind. "You know it's autumn here! You are going to get sick!"

Dream held the umbrella over his lover, trying to keep the rain off both of them, but Ink stood up; refusing to be under the umbrella. "Really? I must've forgotten like usual!" Ink grinned as he walked out toward the railing of the bridge. Dream hopped up and walked over to Ink, standing next to the taller.

"Are you trying to get sick?" Dream chuckled as Ink once again dodged the umbrella.

"What? Me? No, no! Ne-" Ink was interrupted as he suddenly sneezed making Dream furrow his brow. Dream pressed his hand against Ink's forehead making the other snort as he began laughing. "What the hell are you doing?" Ink questioned in between his giggles and snorts.

"Checking to see if you have a temperature, doofus!" Dream huffed as he removed his hand- giving Ink a slight glare before softening his expression. Ink slowing his laughs as he straightened his face, his eye lights changing into a hot pink heart and a yellow line as he shared a look at the others face who flushed a golden.

Dream walked around Ink's back, lightly tapping him with the umbrella.

"Now, come on before you catch a cold, silly~"

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Word count: 625

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Character count: 3,477

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Dream!Sans/Dream Belongs Too: Jokublog

━━━━━━༺༻ ━━━━━━

Ink!Sans/Ink Belongs Too: Myebi/Comyet

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[eomerra541]

I wanted to share a portion of the first chapter of Blood and Ink with you all!! Zierra LeFay is my leading lady in this fanfiction with a two-world plotline. Middle Earth and a fantasy style Earth. Hope it draws you in!!!!

YTD 2019, October 31st

Location: Hillsboro Oregon, USA Bishop/LeFay/Boleyn Coven

"So, what do you think?" Zierra had been facing her over-the-door mirror and swiftly turned to look at Tutela, who had taken her most frequent form as a black cat. Her tail swayed as she meowed approvingly, rubbing herself against Zierra's leg. Her vibrant eyes smiled as she seemed to almost break out into a gentle grin.

"You're totally right. I look gorgeous." Running a finger through her dark curls, Zierra adjusted the waist armor that was snug against her maroon long sleeve tunic. Zierra's black pants were tucked beneath a pair of black leather boots that dawned a hidden pocket inside meant for a small weapon but she used it to hold her cell phone(she was a witch after all… Zierra was a weapon all on her own).

Moving toward her dresser, Zierra grabbed two silver wrist guards, placing them over the sleeves of her tunic before tying the leather strings. She then reached for her satchel, double checking to make sure all the essentials were still inside before readying herself to leave.

To Zierra, Halloween was much more than a chance to dress as her ancestor Morgana LeFay(though she thoroughly enjoyed that part). It was also her birthday and a day when witches, like herself, felt a sudden boost to their magic. For All Hallows Eve was one of the nights where the universe's magic was at its most potent.

Grinning, Zierra motioned for Tutela to follow. "Vamonos, let's get to the coffee shop."

With a nod, Tutela moved toward the open window while Zierra headed for the door of her one bedroom apartment. Grabbing her keys, Zierra watched as Tutela examined the area, making sure no one would see her transformation, before taking the sudden form of a blue jay, flying about and patiently waiting for Zierra to meet her outside. With Tutela outside, Zierra used to magic to close the window and made her way outside

Zierra's apartment was located near the Trimet( Tri-County Metropolitan Transportation District of Oregon) at Orenco Station, an urban neighborhood filled with decades old brick buildings as well as those with wide windows and a modern appeal.

It was within walking distance of her work as an RN at a senior living facility, and an even closer walk to her mother's coffee shop, LeFay Lounge. Orenco Station was by far her favorite neighborhood in the Portland area, and as Zierra stepped outside, she smirked taking it all in. It was a view sje wouçd admire for years to come.

Her eyes fell on Tutela before she began to walk toward LeFay Lounge. The lively street was filled with evening joggers, mom's taking their kids out trick or treating, as well as a young man playing his guitar for money. She threw in a few dollars as she passed while Tutela flew overhead, keeping her flight patterns headed in the same direction as Zierra, without looking as if she were following her.

Taking a right, she could see her mother inside the coffee house just ahead. She was nervously pacing the floor while typing some message in her phone. The sudden ping from inside the pocket of her boot made her realize Ellie, Zierra's mother, had been texting her.

Reaching for her cell, Zierra glanced toward the screen.

I thought you were gonna get here before everyone else?!

Zierra's mother had never been the controlling or worrisome type, always trusting her daughter to do the right thing. More than that, Ellie had an amazing truest gift(every witch can do most spells but every witch also has their own strength known as their truest gift) of foresight and was always one step ahead. She knew when danger was truly imminent and when to roll with the punches. Still, that didn't mean Ellie could foresee every outcome. The future was often unpredictable and depended on the decisions of others(if everything was black and white, Ellie would have been able to protect her husband from his untimely death). Nevertheless, it was because of that special gift that if Ellie was worried, Zierra ought to be as well.

"Ay dios mio." She said, quickening her pace. She gazed toward Tutela, pursing her lips. "We better get in there fast. I'll let you in from the back." Tutela made a loud chirp in reply just as Zierra took a deep breath, hoping it wasn't too serious before reaching the front door.

Inside the shop, lanterns adorned the walls along with quotes written in an Old English font. The floor was made of stone, and the arched ceiling was painted to look like the night's sky. In every way, the coffee house symbolized their great heritage of Medieval Times.

Ellie, who had been facing toward the large fireplace, quickly moved toward her daughter as she entered. "Zierra, we don't have a lot of time." Ellie's voice sounded panicked before she fixed her eyes on the large glass window that showcased her coffee house. She raised her hands as a gold mist began to emit from Ellie's fingers before floating toward the walls of the building, circling it entirely.

The Glamour Spell was used to keep those without magic from ever witnessing or hearing the practice of magic. From outside, LeFay Lounge would appear silent and still, without a soul occupying it, concealing their every action, no matter who arrived for the meeting or what magic they chose to use.

"Mom, what's going on?" Zierra asked worriedly. She hadn't seen her mother this distraught since the night their father died.

Turning to face her daughter, Ellie looked anxious. "Zierra, I've just had an awful vision. It was about you, and it's going to happen soon."

Zierra, seeing the sudden fear in her mother's eyes moved forward. Her mother reached for Zierra's hands before continuing. "In the vision you were standing before a hideous creature with flesh that looked burned. Its' fangs were long and it had stocky legs. It wanted to kill you. It wanted to eat your flesh." Ellie's breath seemed to hitch as a tear fell across her cheek. "You used your magic to defeat it but then as many as fifty came toward you, with some riding on the backs of unnaturally large dogs." Ellie shook her head as her eyes closed for a moment, carefully remembering every detail. "I- I thought at first they were werewolves but their structure wasn't quite the same. Not to mention wherever you were did not look familiar at all."

Zierra could hardly keep up. She pinched the bridge of her nose trying to comprehend her mother's words. "Mama, calmete." She placed her hands on her mother's shoulders. "What are you talking about? What creature? Werewolves? I thought they were extinct?"

Ellie drew in a breath, feeling frantic. "No, I'm saying I thought it was a werewolf." She waved her hand as if to move on. "That's not what's important Zierra, I'm trying to tell you something bad is going to happen, and whatever those things were, I have never seen in all my studies of magic."

Zierra bit her lip. This was supposed to be a typical meeting between three joined covens. Those that were direct descendents of Bridget Bishop, Anne Boleyn, and Morgana LeFay. She thought she'd get to celebrate her birthday as well as Analise Bishop's(they'd both been born on All Hallow's Eve and as such their magic was a great deal stronger than even those on the councill). She thought the two of them would finally be initiated into the councill, as it was typical on a witch's twenty fifth birthday. Instead, she began to fear for her own life.

"Have you told the council your vision? What did they say?" She asked, hoping the coven could help. Whatever her mother had seen, she strongly wished to prevent it.

Ellie gripped her daughter's hands, her eyes growing large at Zierra's question. "You can not even mention my vision! We have to figure this out on our own and be ready for anything that might happen tonight."

Zierra was growing more concerned by the second. "Why aren't you going to bring this up to the councill? I thought all visions of foresight had to be shared-"

"Not when I think a bloodwitch is the reason these creatures were created!" Ellie interrupted.

Zierra furrowed her brow. Analise had been the first bloodwitch in centuries. They were uncommonly rare and could use their own blood to spark life to inanimate objects or bring back dead things(though no matter what they brought back to life they were never entirely the same, their bodies needing constant repair). The two girls had never truly gotten along but Zierra wouldn't suspect Analise of wanting to harm her. Analise had always been full of herself but given that they saw each other a few times a year it just didn't make sense. Analise was a beautiful girl with her own damn life in Rio De Janeiro! She had money, power, and popularity and was miles away from Zierra.

"Mom I don't understand-" Before Zierra could continue, a blue flame suddenly formed within the large fireplace to her left before the stone began to expand. Then, stepping beyond what Zierra knew as Doorway Flame, a woman with red hair and pale skin gave them both a warm smile.

"Merry Hallows Eve, Zierra and Ellie." Lisa greeted. "And Happy Birthday, Zierra."

"Merry Hallows Eve." Zierra and Ellie replied in unison.

Lisa's smile began to fade, taking in Ellie's blotched face. She knew she must have been crying. "What's wrong Ellie?"

Ellie composed herself, giving Lisa a wide grin before waving her off. "Oh we were just reminiscing of when Byron was still alive." She lied.

Lisa's head tilted as she gave them both a look of sympathy. "I can imagine how hard it must be to not have him here for a day like Zierra's birthday." Lisa turned to Zierra just as the others began to arrive. "I heard about you finishing your degree. Congratulations on becoming an RN and for snagging such a prestigious job right out of the gate!"

"Thank you." Zierra answered with a smirk. "I did apply on a friday the thirteenth." She admitted, which was açeatd a day of luck for witches and wizards.

Soon each young descendent(future council women when they were of age and maturity) and council members began to arrive, totaling thirty women. There were ofcourse male descendents, but their magic was typically never as strong(an old curse caused by Mordred was responsible) and as such it was always women who led councils across the globe. They greeted each other kindly, taking seats at the many tables in Ellie's shop, with Ellie LeFay, Lisa Boleyn, and Octavia Bishop standing near the fireplace as the head council women.

"Zee!" Zierra spun around when she heard her cousin's voice, who immediately wrapped her arms around Zierra. "Happy birthday, gorgeous!"

Zierra released her cousin with a pleasant grin, momentarily pulled from her troubled thoughts. Her eyes lit up at the sight of Aliyah's costume.

"You look, muy bonita!" She exclaimed, remembering the dress as one of Regina's from their favorite TV show, Once Upon a Time (The pair loved the world's interpretation of magic and all the irony behind its hidden truth)."I think you could give Lana Parilla a run for her money!"

Aliyah slowly spun around to give Zierra a full view nodding as she spoke. "So true, cousin. So true. But it's not just the party that has me looking so spectacular." Aliyah's smile was wide and filled with excitement, she gripped Zierra's forearms biting her lip. "I'm going to ask Ezra to marry me!"

Zierra's mouth fell open. Ezra Leveau's- who was a half witch half Faery- ancestry came from Marie Laveau and his coven held a council with two other families in France. His mother's marriage to Veyro, an ambassador for the Fae kingdom, had also helped solidify a peace treaty between both parties.

Zierra had been so happy to see them together. And though it had only been six months since they started dating, anyone with eyes could see it was meant to be. "Does that mean you're asking him-"

"Tonight? Yes! And at the Festival? Also yes!"

Zierra practically screamed before giving Aliyah another hug. "Yey! I am so happy for you both! Seriously he is perfect for you! And at the festival no less! Which I get to see happen!"

The two girls sat at one of the round tables, still giddy from excitement just as Analise Bishop had taken the last chair. Zierra's smile immediately dropped as fear crossed over her eyes.

"How were your summers girls?" Analise asked quietly, looking down at her black polished fingernails. Her skin was painted green and her dark hair was fastened into a beautiful dutch braid. She glanced at Aliyah first, waiting for a reply.

"Paris was just as romantic as they say." Aliyah answered with a reminiscent grin. Despite how annoying Analise's ego could be, Aliyah had never been rude to her. It wasn't in her kind nature. But as she looked toward her cousin, Aliyah was quick to notice Zierra's sudden apprehension. Her body had stiffened and her eyes were momentarily filled with vigilance and though Zierra had been quick to recover, Aliyah was much too close to her cousin to miss it.

"I got hired at a senior care center. It's great money and I'll always have the same shift, unlike if I took a job at a hospital. It was a gig most wouldn't have fallen into having just finished school but I did apply in a day if luck, so I was bound ti get it, but I plan to stick around."

"Oh yeah, you finished your nursing degree." Analise stated. She glanced Zierra up and down as if she were beneath her. It was the same self righteous expression Analise often carried, but this time her eyes seemed sinister and it only caused Zierra's fear to grow; her mother's strange vision painting gruesome images inside her head as she contemplated whether Analise would ever want to hurt her. What would she gain from doing so? She asked herself, not able to come to a rational conclusion.

"Love the costume by the way, and happy birthday." Analise added, taking Zierra by surprise. Her smile seemed genuine and the darkness she had seen a moment before was gone "Don't I look ravishing in green?" She winked, gesturing to her costume as The Wicked Witch. Maybe I hadn't seen it at all, Zierra considered. But mom seemed really scared.

"Thanks, and happy birthday to you as well.' Zierra's eyes narrowed for a moment. She truly didn't know what to think. The two had never had any bad blood. So why now? Trying to hurt Zierra meant Analise risking her position on the council and giving up even the slightest opportunity at power felt out of character for Analise. Still, her mother's vision kept Zierra on guard. She gave Analise a slight grin before nodding, turning her attention to her mother who was about to speak..........

Here's a link if you want to read more!!!!

https://m.fanfiction.net/s/13695267/1/Blood-and-Ink

[heresathreebee]

Garrote part 2

[Starz Power Diego Jimenez X Jazmine Mann (Black!OC)]

Word Count: 1591 words

Warning(s): Rated teen (until like chapter 6?). Language, more mentions of human trafficking. Previous Masterlist Next

AN: I got excited and I couldn’t wait to post this tomorrow. The OC finally appears here. (Diego looks like he’s trying to incite a three way and/or sexy shenanigans in this photo)

@1zashreena1 @nicke0115 @mental-bycatch

Diego didn't like Agent Healy. He didn't like anything about this scenario or the way the man just knew about the baby or where to find them. Alicia and Diego were some of the biggest criminals in North America and nobody was supposed to know they were even on this side of the border. There was no doubt in Diego’s mind that Alicia blamed him for it. But regardless of fault, Healy did know, and for that, the man had Alicia's confidence (if even by a frayed thread) and his instructions were easy to follow. 

Healy hadn't given him a name nor a description, so Diego, with nothing but an address and a time, walked into a convenience store at 6 in the afternoon. She'll know you, was Healy's only explanation. Diego deeply regretted this already. 

The bell on the door rang twice and as his eyes swept across the floor, it was mostly empty. The employee behind the counter barely looked up at him. There was an old drunk woman leaning over the beers and a younger woman in deep contemplation over which trail mix she wanted. 

Feeling out of his element, he wandered through the snack section, glancing over to the young woman again. She was kind of cute. Straight hair pulled into a high ponytail and glasses perched at the end of her nose. He was going to say something (he didn't know what) when she looked up angrily and tossed the bags in her hands back onto the rack. 

"When are you going to get vegan options in this store," she yelled at the employee. 

The employee's exhausted eyes lifted from inspecting her fingernails and she pointed lazily, "next to the beer. It's only drinks, sorry." 

The young woman looked nervously at the swaying drunk woman standing guard of the path, then caught Diego's staring and disappeared as quickly as possible. The sour gummy worms Diego had in his hand returned swiftly to the shelf in a calmer imitation of the fit the other customer had thrown not seconds before. He grabbed a case of beer and twizzlers before heading for the counter. He felt foolish– he didn't know what to do or who he was meeting or even what the next step would be. The employee looked over him seeming to sense his disgruntlement. 

"Just this?," she asked. He nodded, watching her try to scan the items, fail, sigh in annoyance, and then manually enter their item codes to the register. He took a second to admire the radius of her curls. The black hair turned a caramel color at the ends and he imagined her hair tie holding on for dear life to contain the thick mass. Should it snap, the poof would be magnificent. 

"OK, $7.23." 

"That's it?" He gave her his card and ID but looking over his items, he decided to take it back. He was overpaying for this garbage. He noticed her stiffen as she spotted the name on his card. 

"You're Diego Jimenez?" 

He raised an eyebrow. "Yes…?" 

He didn't like the way her shoulders slumped suddenly. Women didn't react like that– scratch that– no one reacted that way to him. Fear or arousal, but never… resignation? She looked like she was mourning something. Finishing the sale, she gave him back his cards and grasped his wrist to keep him from leaving. This shocked him– nobody was stupid enough to lay hands on a guy like him. 

"I'm Jazmine." As if he couldn't read the name on her tag, but then she continued, "I'm your new girlfriend." 

"What?" 

"Just"- the bell of the door chimed behind him– "play along," she whispered. 

"Bella!" An overly joyful white man walked over to the counter with a bright, familiar smile. "Mi primadonna. So lovely to see you again." 

Jazmine chuckled in that 'I get paid to do this' sort of way. "Well, you know I'm always working!" 

"Of course, of course," he replied, fishing for his wallet. He wore a suit– not expensive enough to be tailored but it wasn't overly unfitting– and his hair was beginning to thin at the top. Jazmine reappeared from the store's office with a bag of prepared items in it seemingly just for this guy. Upon noticing her, he gasped in surprise and pouted his lip like a young girl reacting to getting a present from her first boyfriend. "You hold the key to heart, and every time I see your face it makes my day just a little brighter." 

Jazmine bowed her head to hide behind her bangs (were they bangs? They were textured and fell over her forehead short of her eyes). "No need to thank me, I always enjoy your visits." 

If Diego wasn't so confused, he might have noticed her lying through her teeth. At the present, he was distracted when this cheery, overly doting man looked down to find Jazmine's hand touching the wrist of this stranger. Something dark flashed in his eyes. 

"Who's this?" 

Jazmine hopped over the counter, planting herself directly in Diego's personal space, and caressed his arm. "This is my boyfriend Diego. Diego, say hi." Diego looked between him and her. "This is Jeremy. Jeremy Haagen– the guy I've been telling you about." 

"Oh," Diego managed. Go with it. "Hi. Nice to finally meet you." 

Jeremy Haagen's jaw ticked but he reclaimed his smile, albeit with a chip on the shoulder. He spoke to Jazmine, not Diego. "It's nice to know I am on your mind even when I'm not around. I think I'll be going– I've got an early day tomorrow. Goodnight, Miss. Mann. And, uh, it was nice to meet you as well, Di-e-go." 

He disappeared quickly into the rapidly growing cover of night. Jazmine was practically giddy. She lay backward across the counter top like a happy cat and stretched so a sliver of her belly showed. "I've never had him leave so quickly. I should have thought of this months ago!" 

Diego hummed resisting the urge to reach out and touch her. To satisfy his lust or his annoyance, he couldn't say which. He watched her roll back into a sitting position and meet his eyes, now a little sheepish. 

"I guess I've probably got some explaining to do… I can't do it right here, right now, it's probably best if we wait til we're somewhere less public..." 

~

His phone showed it was 9:45 pm in bold font, indicating it had been hours since the strange incident. Jazmine Mann was indeed the woman he was supposed to work with– a specimen he never expected to tangle with. The good news was that she knew a little of Healy's scheme– and the better news was that she wasn't overly fond of the man either. 

The terrible, terrible, awful news was that her shift didn't end for fifteen more minutes, and her replacement was always late to their shift. Jazmine watched over the store, stocked shelves that looked virtually OCD with how untouched and organized they were, and finally she escorted the drunken Chinese woman out the back door and across the street, then returned and immediately went back to cleaning. Diego was beyond bored. His soul had left his body and was back at his penthouse suite getting sucked off by that vegan yoga instructor from earlier. He was nearly asleep when his head hit the window and woke him up with a growl. 

"Can we fucking go?," he snapped. "Fuck your job. Nobody's been in here for hours." 

Jazmine sighed, unperturbed by his lack of etiquette. Her hand drummed on her thigh until she shrugged. "OK. I have to lock up first, then we can go over to my place and talk about things." 

Diego grunted and pushed off of the counter opting for a smoke to calm him. He made it a point not to watch her work because watching her was like watching molasses on a hot summer sundae. It didn't mean he didn't notice whenever her shadow passed by, or when the lights behind him finally went out. He was lighting a second cigarette when at last, she locked the front door. She had traded the dull red work vest for a jean jacket, allowing the music band logo of her shirt to show proudly. They walked seven goddamn blocks through city streets to get to her apartment and even with his gun tucked into his pants he had never felt more unsafe. 

"So what did Healy tell you?" She secured every lock on her door and sat down without offering anything to drink. So she didn't get many visitors-- alright then, he wouldn't put out his third cigarette. 

Diego cleared her coffee table none too gently and sat facing her. "A whole lot of bullshit. Said he's trying to dismantle and trafficking ring and that you were going to need some help getting the job set up." 

Jazmine bobbed her head. "OK. Healy let me be in charge of the details, but since the set up was already in affect, he's just taking advantage of an opportunity." She said the word opportunity while making air quote gestures with her hands. "That guy you met– he's the target. He's been coming into my store for the better part of a season and making unsutble passes at me almost every day. Healy says he runs most of the human trafficking around these parts– specifically the underage scene... and he left it at that so as not to compromise the integrity of my 'character.'

"I guess you and I are going to be a team." Jazmine leaned so she had his full attention. "I need you to pretend to be my boyfriend while I draw him out so Healy can snag him. Understand?" 

"Not really." 

"Good, we're on the same page then," she joked with a note of sincerity.

[jinxthequeergirl]

A star above them all

Steve Harrington x henderson! reader

Summary: there was a time you and steve got along really well now that your world is ending for what feels like the hundrth time you reconnect

Requested by anon: i saw ur taking steve requests lol i wanna know if i can request some after starcourt mall fluff/angst with a steve x henderson!reader? and dustin being kinda protective over the reader? idk, you dont have to do this is you dont want to!!

Warning: swearing

Also a friend of mine actually did this for me and I still have the bead.

Also don't think I did this as good as I hoped.

~~~~~

You remembered very vividly being friends with steve harrington from kindergarten up until sixth grade.

  You also remembered that in. Sixth  grade you went through a rough patch in your life. Steve was there to help.

  It was in the art room just after lunch had started. You were alone crying over a drawing you worked hard on. "Y/n?"  

      "Go away steve!" to him that meant come have a seat. He pulled up a seat next to you and looked at you sadly "What's this?" Before you could stop him He pulled the page from under you and frowned.

   "Who did this? You worked really hard on this!" you grabbed it from his hand and turned away. It was the classes latest assignment. Free hand anything you wanted.

  You took a photo from your family's photo album and painted it You worked so hard you came in before school, during lunch, and after school. When you finished your art teacher told the class that she would be featuring in the art show.

  You were so proud, steve was proud, your family was proud. Until you came in the next week and found red paint smeared across it. The teacher told you she had to pull it from the show. Leaving you here.

   "I'm sick of it Steve...I'm sick of Tammie doing This stuff to me..." he grabbed your shoulder and spun you around on the stool. "Listen to me!" He took the paper from you and slammed it on the table.

  "They really are just jealous! I mean who wouldn't be? You are talented and funny, not to mention you have me as a best friend." You chuckled rubbing a tear away.

   He stopped and got up and grabbed something from across the room. "And here." He took your hand and placed a small handful of beads in it.

   "See this cool glow in the dark star bead? That's you!" he put "you" in the center of your palm.

    "And all these other boring beads they're Tammie and everyone else who isn't you...or me." he held one up to show you before chucking it across the room.

  "Just get rid of them! Ignore them! They don't matter!" you laughed and soon enough joined him in throwing them across the room.

    "Mr.Harrington. miss Henderson!" You turned to each other and laughed and you closed your palm around the single star bead in you hand.

  And that night you went home tore the charm off a necklace you always wore and replaced it with the star.

  It was always a constant reminder to you that no one who put you down mattered.

  Even after you started highschool and steve left you for Tommy h, And Nancy wheeler. You still wore the necklace to remind yourself that it even counted for him.

 You and Robin took lead with Erica beside you as you walked down the tunnel of the Russian base. "So how's you y/n-"

  "No,nope."

Steve looked at Dustin confused. "What?"

"Listen I know what happened between you and y/n. And I know we're friends and all but it's my job as her brother- "

"Younger brother." Steve stated.

  "As her brother to make sure she stays happy besides you've got robin."

  "C'mon henderson-"

"Nooooo."

   After everything in star court was over. The flayed dead, the gate finally closed again. You sat on the floor of the upper level next to Steve wanting to cry.

"I can't believe you kept it...after all these years."

You looked over at the boys beaten and bloody face.

"What?"

   "The necklace." you looked down at the little star around your neck. "Oh huh...yea I do."

 "I'm sorry...for What I did to you in high school…"

  "It's whatever Steve.." you got up and started to head down to make sure everyone else was ok.

 "Hey no it's not!"

He caught up with you and fell into step.

"Steve...really now is not the time to be apologizing for one of many doughy things you've done. And listen it's fine my brother likes you and whatever and it was nice to be able to talk to you again even though our lives were on the line...but I know you'll just go back to ignoring my existence even now that you've got robin."

  You hurried over to will and Lucas who both raced into your arm. Leaving Steve there. After the second time this happened. And You saved his ads from Billy he realized how much he missed You.

  You were all sent outside to ambulances and wrapped in blankets. Steve though he was in conversation with robin couldn't help but look over to the ambulance you say in, he watched with a warm smile as you quickly got up and ran across the parking lot to engulf Dustin in a hug.

 "Are you ok? Are you hurt?"

You both seeming asked at the same time. You both fell to your knees hugging each other.

Dustin got up and came over to Steve. "Hey."

"Hey…"

 "Listen you know what I said about staying away from y/n"

Steve nodded and shrugged. "Yea but you didn't necessarily say stay away from her-"

  "I did in not so many words shit head...just shut up and listen…"

Steve nodded And looked at him.

  "I know she misses you and I know that she needs you...so maybe...it wouldn't be the worst if you tried to talk to her again."

 Steve grinned and looked over to you hopefully. "Well are you gonna go or just state at her?"

   Steve quickly got up and made is way over to you.

 "What, Harrington?"

He sat down next to you.

 "I'm sorry...and before you get all pissy just hear me out!" You turned to him with a shocked look.

 "What?" you shook your head and smiled. "Nothing please continue."

 You two sat there the rest of the night. You finally allowed Steve to apologize and the both of you stayed there until it was all over. Just talking and catching up.

 You fell asleep on his shoulder on the way home and he was happy again.

~three weeks later~

"Ya know I'm gonna miss that sailor outfit."

Steve smiled as he turned around to face you. In three you agreed to give him a chance and start dating him. And You had to admit you where happy.

"What? My video store outfit isn't good enough."

You rolled your eyes and kissed him quickly pulling a movie from the stack in his arms.

  "How about a movie at my place tonight, mom's out, Dustin is with the gang.."

He smiled. "Are you kidding? I wouldn't miss being with my star again for a second." You raised your eyebrow at him. "Your star?" he smiled.

"Yea Steve's star? It's...it's got a ring to it font you think." You laughed and he leaned over to kiss you again. But someone launched popcorn at the both of you.

 "You make me sick." you laughed at robin and pulled some from your hair throwing it back at her

[cosmereplay]

ID made with thanks to @teenunicornart!

[ID: A digitally painted comic by @pekgna with one page and eight panels, set in Kaladin’s apartment with a bright pink background.

Panel 1: Kaladin's taking up the entire couch, back against the armrest and looking at his phone. Kaladin has his hair down, which comes to just above his shoulders. He's wearing white socks, dark gray joggers, and a light gray long-sleeved t-shirt. Syl's wearing a dark blue hoodie and teal pants. She’s sitting on the floor in front of the couch with a large poster, some writing utensils, and a laptop spread out in front of her. She’s holding a black marker and looking down at the poster. There’s a window behind her and the sky is dark outside. Kaladin says: "Syl..." 

Panel 2: A close-up on the poster with the title "Los Microbios" in a large font across the top, which becomes squished at the end. There are hearts for the dots on the i's, and a heart for the o in Los. Below the title she’s cut and pasted an illustration of two cells - eukaryotes, probably ciliates, which are oval-shaped and have a membrane and are covered in little "hairs" that they use to swim. There's squiggly lines indicating smaller text beside the illustration, and another box where another drawing or diagram might go. There are also little cartoon flower motifs around the poster. From off screen, Kaladin says, "That's a cute poster." Syl replies, "Oh shut up."

Panel 3: A view from the side of Kaladin grimacing and sweating and holding up his phone, which is ringing. This is indicated by 1 eight note, two sixteenth notes, and then two more eight notes. From off screen, Syl says, "Since when do you get calls?"

Panel 4: A close up of Kaladin, shown from the chest up. He's sweating and grimacing and has one eyebrow raised, his phone held to his ear. He says into the phone, "Ma," and then a speech bubble from the phone says, "If I didn't call I wouldn't even know if you're alive."

Panel 5: A zoomed out shot of Kaladin and Syl looking overwhelmed by the amount of stuff that Hesina's saying. Syl's looking at Kaladin, and their faces are shadowed over like they have encountered some darkness or something (it's a motif in anime). Hesina's speech is layered behind the two of them, so some of it is blocked off, which I'll indicate with the word blocked: "Are you eating well or just junk? Is work going all right? When are you going back to school? You know (blocked) your dad has been ask (blocked) out it and he care (blocked) you having a degree. (Blocked) a lot of (blocked) f (blocked) en are yo (blocked) coming to v (blocked)"

Panel 6: A close up on Kaladin's face, his eyes closed and brows scrunched upwards, and sweat drops on his face. He is forcing his grimace into a smile. Kaladin says, "Everything's ok mom." Hesina replies, "Are you still single son?? You're dying alone at this rate."

Panel 7: A zoomed out view of Kaladin looking very weary, his upward turned eyebrows now furrowing upwards in apparent pain. He’s back to grimacing. His elbow is propped up and he’s leaning his head against the hand holding the phone. Kaladin says, "Jesus fuck mom I'm not going to die alone." Hesina says, "Don't use the lord's name like that." Kaladin says, "Christ"

Panel 8: A close-up of Syl's face, who looks very weary too, and sweating. She's grimacing and has one eyebrow raised, like "really?" and her eyes look dead. Squiggly black lines emerge beside her. Hesina’s words are clear even to Syl, sitting a metre away. Hesina says, "How do you even know??" In a separate speech bubble she says, "Do you have a girlfriend son?" And again, "KALADIN??" Kaladin is apparently not answering, lol]

MooOOOOoooommmm!!!!

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