#I recommend making your ocs suffer in your head when youre not busy

[vk06bg]

Need to be more careful when daydreaming my OCs!!!

[i-am-still-bb]

No. 15

“I don't need you to help me, I can handle things myself.” | Makeshift Bandages | Suppressed Suffering | “I’m fine.”

Pairing: Fili/Kili Rating: T Universe: Fast Car (formerly Dead Batteries) Words: 1579

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Warnings: Alcohol consumption, hangovers, bad life choices, implied Kili/OCs, references to earlier events of physical and emotional abuse.

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“I’m fine,” was the lie that Kili told everyone. He told it to his teachers, himself, his friends, and even Fili. 

After his mom died? I’m fine.

After his dad found out like Kili liked boys? I’m fine.

After Fili showed up drunk in the middle of the night and left Kili conflicted with the fact that he liked his best friend in that way. “I’m fine.”

After Fili almost fought Kili’s father in his front yard? “I’m fine.”

College professors? His college roommate? The other drunk kids at parties? “I’m fine.”

Ari and Tauriel were the first people that Kili admitted that, no, he wasn’t in fact fine. Granted, Ari had been holding his hair back while he puked at the time, but it was still true. 

“Have some water,” Ari urged, holding out a plastic cup emblazoned with the Student Union’s logo.

Kili leaned back against the cold ceramic of the tub. “Thanks,” he said weakly, taking the cup with a shaky hand. 

“Do you always get so drunk that you sleep on random people’s floors?” Tauriel asked as she passed by the bathroom door again. She was busy cleaning up her and Ari’s campus housing from their Thirsty Thursday party the night before.

“I…” Kili hung his head. He wanted to say no. No, he did not routinely wake up on the floor. No he was not regularly so hung over that he had actually made sure that none of his classes started until afternoon. “Yes.” He took a sip of the water. He wanted to drink more to rinse his mouth out and to feel hydrated again, but he knew from experience that he should not do that. 

“Is that fun?” Ari asked.

“It can be,” Tauriel interjected again. This time she stopped in the doorway with a plastic trash bag hanging from one hand. 

“I was asking him,” Ari said. She turned to Kili. “I don’t think I ever actually got your name last night.”

Kili opened his mouth to answer, but he had to lunge for the toilet again. Ari rubbed his back when he was done. 

“It’s Kili.”

“I’m Ari.”

“Tauriel.”

“Thanks for doing this. I know you have better ways to spend your Friday mornings. I can just go, actually,” Kili started to stand. 

“Stay.” Ari’s hand on Kili’s shoulder prevented from rising. 

Tauriel shrugged. “It’s not like I was going to my 9:40am philosophy class anyway.”

“What one are you taking?” Kili asked, deflecting. “I was thinking about taking one next fall.”

“Philosophy and the Modern Drama. I do not recommend it.”

“Noted.” Kili picked up the cup of water and took another stip.

“So, is it fun?” Ari reiterated her question.

“You’ll have to excuse her; she doesn’t drink,” Tauriel said before walking off again to clean up some more.

Kili shrugged and stared and his legs and the pink ‘70s tile that the University had never seen fit to remove from its student houses. “Sometimes?” he offered. “There’s a point where it is fun. I’m more relaxed, I’m not worrying, I’m laughing, I’m making other people laugh, but it’s hard to stay at that sweet spot. If I get too sober then the feeling goes away and I just feel out of place, but if I keep drinking it always tips over into more drunk, feeling out of control, sometimes blacking out. And that always ends with hangovers like this.”

“Then why do it?”

“Why does anyone do it?”

“I do it for the social aspects,” Tauriel said loudly from the other room. “Most people on the archery team drink, so I drink to fit in. And I don’t drink so much that I’m stuck on the floor the next day. Plus I have a system. If I always had to deal with hangovers like that,” she was in the doorway again pointing at Kili, “then I would ot drink. The bad would outweigh the good at that point.”

“Why don’t you drink?” Kili asked. He turned the plastic cup between his fingertips.

“I just don’t like it,” Ari said. “I did try it, but I did not like the way it felt, how it felt when I woke up, and I just never wanted to do it again. I don’t mind if other people drink, and I’m happy to make sure my friends are safe if they do.”

Ari and Tauriel did not say anything, clearly waiting for Kili to answer the question. 

“I…” Kili trailed off, not sure what he wanted to say. “I guess I want to forget stuff, and drinking makes that easier?”

Ari and Tauriel shared a look. Ari brushed a curl behind one ear. “Forget what?”

Kili started to speak but stopped. He drew his knees up. “I screwed some stuff up before I came here. Actually by coming here.”

“Okay…? I’m listening.”

“I was seeing this guy. We’d grown up together, we were best friends, and then we were more. I wanted to stay there and be with him, but I just couldn’t and there was no way that he was going to come to Chicago with me.”

“Why not stay in California? They have a lot of schools?” Ari asked gently. 

Kili wiped his nose. He had not noticed that he had started crying. “My dad. We were cool together when I was little, but then he started drinking a lot after my mom died. And then when I told him I thought I was gay… things just got a lot worse. At first he just yelled, but then he started using his fists.”

Ari covered her mouth with one hand, her eyes wide. 

“And then the same week I got my acceptance letter with my financial aid package with its full funding, Fili and my father almost fought each other in the front yard of my dad’s place. I knew then that I couldn’t stay there anymore. I had finally realized that nothing could make me stay. And then I just clammed up and didn’t share that with Fili… so we didn’t even get that last summer together. I ended up working a lot and watching a lot of crap television until it was time to move here. And I think I made a huge mistake. I think I should have stayed. I think about him all the time still. I miss him.”

Ari placed a hand on Kili’s knee, “Kili…” 

“Can I kick your dad’s ass?” Tauriel interrupted.

Kili snorted in surprised laughter. “What? Yeah. Sure.”

“Good. What a douchenozzle.”

Kili smiled despite himself. 

“Your dad and my dad can get beers together and then get some matching black eyes from my lovely girlfriend here,” Ari said. “And it sounds like it was an impossible decision. If you had stayed you might be thinking that it was a mistake too.”

“I know. It just… It sucks.”

“It does,” Tauriel agreed. “Do you think you could handle some eggs? I’ve got a few left and some breakfast meats if anyones hungry.”

“Omelet, but hold the ‘breakfast meats’,” Ari said. 

“I already know your opinion about breakfast meats, but what about our new friend.”

Ari rolled her eyes and stood. 

Kili looked from one to the other. “I get the feeling like there is some innuendo with that question.”

“Have to find out now if you’re going to be a good fit if you stick around,” Tauriel shrugged. “So, do you like sausage for breakfast?”

Kili’s cheeks turned a bit pink before he spoke, “All sausage is good sausage.”

Ari crinkled her nose. “You can have all the sausage then.” She helped Kili to his feet. 

Tauriel grinned wickedly, “This is generally a meat / sausage free household, except for the occasional artificial meat product.”

“You’re horrible,” Ari accused.

“But you love me.”

“So you assume.” Ari kissed Tauriel’s cheek as she brushed past her. 

They set up camp at the round kitchen table that had seen better days having been passed from student accommodation to student accommodation since it was discarded by its original owner. Tauriel turned on the radio, and started the busy work of making breakfast, and they went through the preliminary conversations of getting to know one another. By the time the omelets were gone and Kili had been half-bullied into eating all of the proffered sausage (he just felt bad eating all of their food, and he was worried about getting sick again) they had exchanged phone numbers, friended each other on Facebook, and made plans to meet up later in week to do some studying.

And slowly Kili started telling people that he was not “fine.” He told his professors when he needed more time on assignments rather than just working himself into an anxious mess and turning in subpar work that left him with a bad taste in his mouth, and the poor grade he received as a result did nothing to help anything. 

He made an appointment with the school’s counselor. 

And he stopped drinking enough to black out on a regular basis, which meant that he no longer woke up on strange floors or with strange people. He more often than not woke up on the futon in Ari and Tauriel’s campus apartment hungover on too many carbs (in the form of pizza and garlic bread bites) and Mountain Dew. 

And eventually he wasn’t lying when he said he was fine. 

But sometimes he wasn’t.

And he knew that was okay.

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Everything @silvermoon-scrolls @metztliluaa-blog @i-am-pinkie

Fili/Kili @dubhlachen

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[20moonchild21]

𝗦𝗲𝗵𝗻𝘀𝘂𝗰𝗵𝘁 [𝗯𝘁𝘀]

⇉ 𝗰𝗵𝗮𝗽𝘁𝗲𝗿 5

[pairings]

JK x female!oc, Jin x female!oc, bunny!JK x human!oc, leopard!Jin x human!oc, JK x female!oc x Jin

[warnings]

mentiones of abusement, injuries, injured Jin, traumatized Jin and JK, suffering, angst, mentiones of feeling guilty, too much fluff

[words]

4.3k

[author]

I am so excited to finally add Jin properly to the story. I really hope you like the new chapter. The next update will next Sunday, because I am still stuck in my exam period.

Also, if you are looking for some other Hybrid!Bts au stories, I have a few pretty good recommendations for you.

My personal favorite is Inferiority complex written by @starlightauroras-writes. Please check out her story and leave a lot of likes. Her story s amazing!🥰

Don’t forget to also check out my other recommendations that I linked below that chapter.

Of you have any criticism or recommendations or other wishes, there is no need to be afraid to write me. I am open for any kind of messages as long as they are constructive! Don’t forget to like and leave a comment, so I know I can continue!

Also, thank you for all the likes and cute messages you left under the other chapters. It always makes me happy!

By the way, did you watch JK‘s livestream yesterday? He actually read out my comment, and I swear my heart exploded. Best moment in my life🙏🏼🙈🤤

Stay healthy and safe!

Mꨄ

[chapter 4 ||| chapter 6]

„Is he going to be okay, Hope?” Jungkook whispered, tears still spilling out of his eyes, as he watched his brothers injured upper body lying on the couch in Hope’s apartment.

Once the trio had arrived there, the girl immediately had taken off Jin’s shirt and tried to medicate his injuries. He had several bruises along his ribcage. Hope palpated over them, and finally came to the decision that luckily, that he had no inner bruises or broken bones.

But his scratched were another thing. Some were already starting to heal, but others were deep and looked infected. The girl carefully cleaned them all up with a wet clothe. Every time the wet fabric made contact with the open flesh, she would feel his muscles twitching under her touch. He must feel so much pain. When she was done, she opened her fits aid kid and covered all the deeper cuts up with fresh bandages, so they would catch other infections.

She soaked the cloth again with water, and drove it over the sleeping boy’s face, whipping off all the dust, sweat and dirt. Beside the scratches and bruises, Jin had a really beautiful face. With his plump lips slightly parted, and his deep brown eyes closed, he truly looked like a sleeping beauty.

“Yes, Kookie.” She sighed, as she threw her dirty cloth away. “He is going to be okay. We will keep an eyes on his injured so they won’t get infected again.”

She stood up from the ground, taking all the used supplied with her into the kitchen, where she disposed them in the trash can. For a short moment, she closed her eyes and leant forward onto the counter edge, trying to process the day.

Who could have told her almost three weeks ago, that her world would turn upside down from one second to another?

Studying law, she had read many cases from abused and misused Hybrids. She had read them back and forth, up and down, trying to imagine their how they must feel. But nothing she had read could compare with reality.

Reality had hit her hard since she had seen the real suffering in this world. In the past, she wanted to stand up for Hybrid law, because she thought that they were disadvantaged in this society. But now, now she wanted to stand up for them, because they were suffering in this society. Suffering from the species that called themselves human.

But right now, she could do nothing but being there for those two Hybrids. She had no other choice. She turned around and wated to go back into the living room, when the scenario she saw made her stop in her tracks.

Jin was still lying peacefully on the couch, his chest was rhythmically falling up and down. Jungkook kneeled in front of the couch, so he could be at the same level as the sleeping boy. His hand was still holding Jin’s, as he had pushed himself further up, with his head buried into the creak of Jin’s neck and shoulder. He was slowly moving and rubbing his head along the sensitive skin, spreading his scent all over his brother.

Among Hybrids, scenting was one of the most intimate ways of showing his affection to one another.

The girl stayed silence in the kitchen, just watching how carefully and lovely Jungkook was threatening his brother. She absolutely didn’t want to ruin that moment between those two.

Jungkook spent the whole evening running around the apartment, making sure that Jin was okay. He got him some more blankets to cover his shaking body, pillows to make sure that he head was stable, he made him warm tea, that we always ended up drinking himself, because Jin was still sleeping.

It took the girl much to convince him to at least leave the couch and eat dinner with her at the table, but when his stomach growled loudly, he eventually showed insight and left the sofa.

“Jungkook, he is fine. “ He ripped his gaze away from his brother on the couch. “Come on, I bet Jin would want you to eat your food.”

Jungkook sighed loudly, ears hanging weakly at the side of his head. How could he eat peacefully, when he knew that his brother went through hell and back since his escape. If he just had stayed there, with is old owners, Jin would have never been treatened so badly. But he also would have never met Hope.

He looked up from his plate, just to see the girl looking at him worriedly. She seemed to be often concerned about him. He saw the way she would ask him if he was okay, or how she would tell him to eat enough when he said he wasn’t hungry, or how she would cry and try to conform him the night he broke down.

He didn’t mind though. Never, in his life someone had been worried about him. She gave him anything: a bed to sleep, foot to eat and just a place to feel safe and….home. Even though he had only known her for a little more than three weeks, he felt like this was the place where he belonged.

But even though he was happy she allowed him to live with her, there was also this other voice in his mind. The voice that always reminded him that he was only a guest in her house. And every guest had to leave at some point.

A shiver ran down his spine. He feared the day she would come to him and tell him that he and Jin had to leave. Where would they go? Would they have to go back to their old owners?

No, they were not their old owners. They still were their owners. And this meant that they would have to go back to them. He would never lay in his soft bed again. He would never read in his favourite book again, the one with this little daws and Hobbits. He would never look at the photo wall again, wishing that there was a phot of him and the girl, too.

“What is going on in your pretty little head?” Hope had carefully laid her hand on top of his, a small smirk played on her lips. “I can see your mind racing.”

“I just ��“ He wanted to tell her his concerns, but he decided against it. Today was not the day he wanted to hear that they had to leave. “I just – thought about that Jin might be hungry. He looks pretty thin.”

“But he is asleep right now.” She squeezed his hands a little bit. “But as soon as he wakes up, he can eat as much as he wants, okay?”

The Hybrid forced out a small smile and nodded his head. He would just try to enjoy the time that he had left.

After dinner, Jungkook had gone straight back to the couch, curling up beside his brother. Not once this day had done anything else, besides lying next to Jin and waiting for him to wake up. It was cute to watch though. Jungkook had a big heart, and the girl knew that he wished for nothing more than to just get the love back he gave to others.

Earlier, when the witch had told her, that they had given Jungkook up for adoption, Hope had felt a giant stone falling from her heart. She had feared that they would still be looking for him, wanting him back at all it costs.

But with he being free to be adopted, she could sign his papers while re-registering Jin. Even though she had his papers and deed of ownership, she needed to report her adoption to an authority. But she wanted to wait for Jin to fully wake up before she would do so. After all, she didn’t know if he or Jungkook even wanted to be adopted again.

She couldn’t offer them a luxury life. She would first had to make herself a name in the lawyer business, which will take a lot of time, because Hybrid lawyer often don’t get much appreciation. But don’t matter what the both of them will decide, she would have to accept their wishes, even though it would break her heart.

With the bunny Hybrid in her apartment, it was the first time in years that she felt truly happy again. Since her mother had died and her friend moving away for college, she had felt alone in her life. There had been no one to wait for her until she came home from college or work, or someone with whom she could talk at the dinner table.

She truly enjoyed the time with the Hybrid.

She sighed, as she looked over to the sofa, where Jungkook was still curled up next to Jin, reading his favourite book. She smiled when she thought about his fascination with the Hobbits. He had found that book a few weeks ago, while scanning through her book shelf.

He had told her every day what happened in the book, and though she knew the plot of the book back and forth, she listened to everything he told her. Once he had been done with reading through the book, he just read it from the start again, not even thinking about tying another one.

“I think I will go to bed earlier. “ She said, as she made her way over to the sofa, holding a mug with Jungkook’s favourite tea in her hands. “I am pretty tired.”

The bunny looked up from his book. He watched her putting the mug on front of him at the small table, before she took a seat next to him at the sofa.

“Can I – “ Jungkook hesitated for a moment, before he began to speak again. “Can I sleep on the sofa tonight with Jin Hyung. I don’t want to let him alone. What if he wakes up and don’t knows where he is. Or if he –“

“Jungkook.” The girl stopped him, smiling slightly. “Of course you can sleep here. Shall I get your blanket and pillow?”

He quickly nodded, as a small shade of red began to spread over his cheeks. Hope stood up and walked over into his room. Jungkook was a very tidy and organized Hybrid. He made his bed every morning, every piece of clothes in his drawer was exactly folded and stacked up and he even had managed to organize her storage room, the so called ‘Chamber of secrets’, which she had failed to clean up for several years.

(Do you know on which scene from TBBT I am referring to? I love it :D)

She made her way over to the bed, carefully taking the blanket and pillow into her arms, trying to not carry it to close to her body, so her scent wouldn’t be all over it. A smile played on her lips, as she remembered the day when Jungkook insisted on washing Brian’s clothes, because he didn’t like to smell another male on his clothes.

When she turned around to go back to the living room, her eyes caught something on the Hybrid’s desk. Next to desk lamp laid the notebook she gave to Jungkook a few weeks ago. It wasn’t closed like, the open page pointing upwards.

She didn’t want to invite his privacy, but when she saw the sketched lines from the distance, she got curious. She often had wondered whether he was writing or sketching in there, when she watched his hands sliding wildly over the pages.

Hope took a few steps closer, looking back at the door to make sure Jungkook wouldn’t catch her looking at his private things. When she bent over the small back, her heart skipped a beat.

Jungkook had indeed sketched something. The lines were soft and accurate, taking all the space the page could offer. The picture had been drawing from the perspective when sitting at the dining table, the place where the bunny sometimes sat while she worked on her computer.

In the background, she recognized her kitchen, with the white fridge and the small hatch, and in the font ground she saw herself sitting. She was amazed by the precision he had drawn her hair falling over her shoulder and the feature of her face looking concentrated at the laptop in front of her.

Next to the her in the picture, he had written 4 capital letters. The letters were messy and scrawly, but she could read them without problems: 卄口ㄗモ

The girl’s heart swell with love. He had drawn her into his notebook, the place where he kept the deepest thoughts of his mind.

With the proudest smile on her face, she made her way back into the living room. She carefully placed the blanket over and pillow next to Jungkook, before she made her way over to Jin one last time, checking if he was okay.

When she was sure that everything was fine, she made her way over to the front door to turn off the great light in the room. The small lamp next to the TV was now the only source diving the room with cosy and warm light, just enough that Jungkook could still read his book.

“Good night Jungkook. Don’t read too long, you need your sleep.” She walked up behind him and bent down.

With her all braveness bundled, she pressed a short kiss on the top of his fluffy hair, before bending back up. Luckily, the room was dark enough to hide her reddening cheeks, as Jungkook looked up. He closed his small book, laying it to the side.

“Thank you for saving my brother.” He whispered, as he took her hands in his bigger one, squeezing them slightly.

“Anytime.“

When she woke up the next morning, the flat was unusually quiet. Normally, she was woken up by the dull tones of Jungkook’s boxing gloves hitting his punching bag. He would always wake up before her, already finishing his morning workout. She wondered every day, where he took his motivation from, but she didn’t mind though.

She changed into comfortable clothes, and carefully made her way up into the living room, trying to be as quiet as possible, in cases both Hybrids were still sleeping on the sofa. She tippy-toed through the hallway and peeked around the corner.

Jungkook was sprawled out on his back. He had his legs spread, and he blanket was only covering half his body, making his left leg stick out and hanging loosely off of the sofa. With his arms lying beside his head to either side, and his mouth slightly parted, and ears laying loosely on the sofa, he looked like someone had shot him.

Hope smiled at this scene in front of her, slightly shaking her head. It was nice to see how safe and comfortable he felt around here. She moved her gaze away from the bunny, and looked over to the other Hybrid lying on her couch. To her surprise, her eyes met big, brown orbs looking back at her.

“Good morning, Jin.” She said softly, as she went around the corner.

She tried to make her voice as smooth and warm as possible, showing him that she didn’t want to put any harm on him or Jungkook, after all, he didn’t know how happy Jungkook had been over the last weeks.

Jin, however, didn’t reply. His ears were pressed flat against his head, as he kept looking sceptically at the girl, before his gaze fell onto his naked upper body, that was half covered by a blanket.

“We had to take your shirt of yesterday.” The girl quickly said, knowing exactly what was going on in his head. “You have some pretty infected injures. I just wanted to wrap them up. I hope this was okay?”

He hesitated at first, but eventually nodded as a small shade of red covered his cheeks. He pulled the blanket, that had slide down his torso, up a little bit higher. It was obviously embarrassing for him to lay half naked on her couch.

“I think Jungkook wouldn’t mind borrowing you one of his shirts.” She quickly said. “I will get one for you.”

She turned around and got the shirt from Jungkook’s drawer, before going back and giving it to Jin. He carefully reached out and took the piece of hands out of her hands.

“I will just go and make some breakfast.” She was about to leave, before something came into her mind. “You can try waking up Jungkook. He wouldn’t want to miss eating his flakes.”

She made her way into the kitchen and started to prepare the breakfast as she always did each morning. Sometimes, she would hear some deep voices coming from the living room. Jungkook seemed to be awake by now.

“Kook, is it really safe here?” She heard Jin asking, as she was about to get the milk out of the fridge.

“It is, Hyung. Hope is the nicest girl in the world. She even gave me my own room and…” He kept rambling about the most normal things in the world, which made the girl even sadder. He shouldn’t be this exited to have his own bed to sleep in. She sighed and turned her attention back to the fried egg in the pan, before she heard Jungkook’s cracking voice“…I – I really missed you, Hyung. I thought that – that they – “

“Shh. It’s okay, Kook.” Jin whispered back. “I only wanted you to be safe.”

Hope gulped in the kitchen. She knew how much it hurt to loose someone you love. But she didn’t want to imagine how it must feel to not know if someone you love is dead or barely alive and tortured to death.

She waited another 5 minutes, making sure that she would not interrupt the moment, before she carried the pan into the dining room. Jungkook was just pulling away from hugging Jin , before he stood up and stretched his arms into the air, as well as his ears.

“Did you sleep well, Kookie?” The girl asked amused, as she pulled her chair back and took a seat.

Jungkook helped Jin up from the sofa, and led him the way over to the table by holding his hand. He pulled himself his chair back and sat down as well, gesturing for Jin to sat down, too.

“It’s okay.” The bunny said, as he saw Jin’s hesitation. “You can sit down and eat with us.”

Jin’s eyes flicked from Jungkook over to the girl, waiting for her to give him permission. Hope smiled softly at him, as she placed her mug back down and nodded at the standing boy. Jin hesitated again, before he carefully took a seat beside Jungkook, eyes never left the girl to make sure he didn’t do anything wrong.

“Do you want to try those flakes?” Jungkook held his bowl directly under Jin’s nose.

The older boy was clearly overwhelmed by the whole situation. His ears kept wildly twitching around, as he sniffed at the bowl, looking confused and scared at the same time.

“No.” He whispered, sinking his head down.

“But you must be hungry, Hyung!” Jungkook had placed his bowl back down in front of himself.

He was asking Jin all over again if he wanted to eat something and why he refused to eat something, but Jin just shook his head every time.

“Jungkook, don’t force him to eat something.” Jungkook dropped his ears but nodded, turning his attention to his own bowl, while the girl spoke now into Jin’s direction. “Jin, you don’t have to eat something if you don’t want to, but you are free to eat whenever and whatever you like. You don’t need to ask for my permission either. Just – do what makes you happy.”

Jin looked at her with wide eyes, still trying to figure out if she was serious or not. He nodded shyly, before he looked at the munching bunny next to him. Jungkook smiled with his mouth closed, before reaching over towards his orange juice. He lifted the glass and gestured for Jin to take it.

Jin’s eyes flicked towards the girl once again, but she avoid his gaze on purpose, pretending to be busy with her toast. With the slowest movement, Jin reached out for the glass, taking it out of Jungkook’s hand. He looked at it, before placing it on his lips.

While he drank, his eyes kept flickering between his brother and the girl, watching every movement form both of them closely. After his glass was empty, he carefully sat it back down on the table. Though he kept his gaze down, Hope saw his eyes flickering over to slices of bread lying in the small basket.

“You can take the bread, Jin.” As soon as she spoke his head shot up, as if he was caught doing something bad. “There is more than enough for the three of us.”

Jungkook confirmed her offer with a quick nod, and eventually, Jin reached his hand out to take a slice of bread. Though he refused to put something onto his bread, Hope was glad he eat something after all.

Breakfast went over without any other incidents. Jin kept munching at his bread, while the girl carefully introduced herself, telling him about her life like she did when she met Jungkook. Jin didn’t reply, he nodded from time to time, but stayed silent.

The only time he actually responded, was when she mentored how she had found Jungkook and taken him in. His ears dropped down onto his head.

“Thank you for saving Jungkook.” He had whispered, before bowing his head slightly.

Once they were done eating, Hope told Jungkook to give Jin a small tour while she would do the dishes. The bunny was more than eager to show his older brother everything in the house. He grabbed his hand and pulled him away from the table.

Hope watched with shaking head, as Jungkook dragged the confused boy into his own room, where she could hear him rambling nonstop about every little detail.

She turned her attention back towards the dishes in the sink. Later that say, she would have to call the authority, to make an appointment for re-registering Jin and signing Jungkook’s adopting papers, of course only if both of them will agree.

She didn’t want to bring the topic up this early. Jin had been here for not even one day. It would be hard for him to decide if he wanted to stay or not, and Jungkook would probably make the same decision as his brother, because he didn’t want to be separated from him again.

This meant she would set the appointment in about 1 week. Hopefully, this would be enough time for Jin to at least trust her enough.

“….And this is the photo wall.” She turned around and looked at Jungkook, who was still holding Jin’s hand. “This is my favourite wall of the entire apartment. I look at the photos every morning or when I am bored….”

She watched as she took a step closer, looking interested at the different photos. Hope honestly didn’t know why Jungkook was so fascinated about the photos hanging on the wall. Sometimes, she would watch him how he sat in front of that wall for over 30 minutes, just staring at the photos.

It was adorable thought. The picture surprise for his birthday was a good idea.

“….And this is Hope at her graduation party. Look, she was one of the best students in her year. She is so smart. And this is Hope and her mom at her mom’s birthday. But her mom died a few years ago. Hope is very sad about this, because she said her mom was the best mom in the world. And this are Hope’s friends from High School…..” Jungkook kept rambling about every single picture, talking about them as if they were the most precious things in the world.

Jin was still staring at the pictures, giving Hope the chance to watch his profile. He was as tall as Jungkook, but definitely slimmer than him. He had shaggy brown hair, that fell smoothly over his forehead. At the top of his head set a pair of fluffy, black, brown and white ears, that twitched back and forth.

It was just now, that the girl actually saw Jin’s tail. Since he was a Leopard, his tail was much longer. It reached about the almost the middle of his calves. It was covered with fluffy fur and black stripes all over.

She broke her staring when she noticed Jungkook finishing his monologue, not wanting to make her new guest uncomfortable.

“Hope!” Jungkook came running up excitingly at the girl when he saw her standing in the doorway of the kitchen. Where did this boy take his energy from all the time? “Jin-Hyung likes my room very much. I thought that he might can share my room with me?”

Hope wasn’t surprise by this question. She could tell that both of them were really close, even if she hadn’t known both for long.

“I – ehm – I can also sleep on the fl – “ Jin’s cheeks were covered in red, as he stuttered about sleeping on the floor.

“It’s okay, Jin.” The girl quickly interrupted him. “You can sleep wherever you want to sleep. If you want to share a room with Jungkook, that’s fine by me. There are also 2 more empty bedrooms, so if you change your mind, you can also sleep in there. It’s your choice.”

“Please, share a room with me, yeah?” Jungkook was squeezing and tugging Jin’s hand, begging him to sleep in his room.

“Okay, I – I will share.”

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[babylooneytoonz]

Author's Note: I got this as a request, but decided to turn this into a fic. Thank you to whoever this person was who requested it. 💗

Summary: Your first meeting with Sergeant Barnes wasn't exactly charming, hell, it was a disaster. And the only adjectives that came to your mind when you thought about him were words like prick, bastard and a jackass. He made your life hell, and you lived to make sure you made him suffer. And neither of you realized, how your sole mission of tormenting each other became the most important part of your life.

Set somewhere after Avengers Civil War. My book does not follow the storyline, and will not include the events of Infinity War and Endgame. I do not take credit for any of the characters, except for my OC/Reader.

Warnings: 18+ [Will include SMUT, curses and violence] // Bucky Barnes is an ass

Coffee Stains - Masterlist

Coffee Stains

You almost didn't realize how late it was; the sun had set hours back, and the moon was now shining bright, pale white glow radiating from its cheeks like White ivory spread over the ground outside. You finally decided to stop working, and instead head home. So, you shut your laptop, pushing your glasses over the bridge of your nose, and finally stood up. The SHEILD headquarters was still hustling and bustling with people. People kept walking past your office door, most of them in a hurry as you joined them in the hallway, making your way towards the elevator.

Your father had worked for SHEILD, having been one of the building blocks, along with Nick Fury, and now you, being his daughter, there was nothing more you had ever wanted to do but to dedicate yourself entirely to SHEILD. So here you were, associated with SHEILD, for almost two years now.

You didn't realize when in the bubble of your mind, the kinesis of your thoughts, a woman had stepped out of her office and was making her way towards you, but not after having called your name almost three times. When she reached the elevator, she let out a soft huff, which was enough to finally put you out of your trance.

"Maria, I'm sorry, didn't see you there," you retorted, a little flustered and pink at the cheeks.

The woman almost gave you a tight lipped smile, and slowly, her long, slender arms came to cross on her chest, her left foot almost tapping against the tiled floor of the headquarters, "I've been calling your name, you didn't respond. You alright?"

You thought for a moment, your glossy eyes looking down at her feet before back up on her face again, and nodded, "Yeah, yeah, just thinking. Is there anything you needed?"

"Not me, Fury wanted to see you before you left."

You nodded, pursing your lips slightly and gave her a ghost of a smile before taking a step back and craning your neck towards Fury's office once and then back, " Well then, I guess I'll pay the boss a visit." The two of you exchanged a light hearted chuckle, and you waved Maria off as she stepped into the elevator with two more agents, and you slowly made your way up to Nick Fury's office.

You stood awkwardly at the glass door, bringing your palm up to the glass and knocking on it. Inside the office, the bald headed man with a patch on one of his eyes slowly looked up, and when he saw you, a hint of a smile broke out on his lips as he nodded, and you stepped in.

"You wanted to see me?"

You and Fury shared an easy going relation; he reminded you of your dad, for the two of them had served together before your dad was killed in action, and ever since, Nick Fury had taken it upon him, to watch over you like a father figure.

"Come on in Y/N, I wanted to speak to you."

Shutting the door, you walked up to where he was seated and slowly lowered yourself on the empty chair in front of him, your elbows coming to rest on the surface of the desk.

"So– " He began, sitting back more comfortably, and also to keep a better eye at your expressions and reactions, "With Natasha Romanoff out on a mission, the Avengers are in need of a dire back up agent."

Your eyebrow shot up at his words, not understanding where he was getting at. As though he sensed your confusion, he continued, "A position is open. The Avengers are looking for someone to join the team. And I recommended your name."

It was as though your ears managed to block out every word that Fury said except for the part that he had recommended your name. Avengers had only been a distant dream for you till now. They really intrigued you; and you had done your research on almost everyone of them, except for the newbies of course that you hadn't had the chance to meet. Your lips parted in surprise, and a soft gush of air managed to escape your lips.

"Fury, I – I don't know."

"They asked us for the best we've got, and although it's been a long time we've sent you on our mission, you're the best we've got. I couldn't say no," he chuckled, trying to lighten the mood for he was now able to sense that you were starting to get nervous.

"Holy shit." You finally managed to form words, not the best choice of words that you could have formed, but you were so surprised, you didn't know what to say.

"Rest up, Y/N. Tomorrow, we go to the Avengers Towers, and meet your new team."

╞═════𖠁𐂃𖠁═════╡

The next day, you woke up earlier than you usually did, but you knew that it was your part excitement part anxiety bubbling up that had kept you tossing and turning in bed all night. You had gone over all the possible scenarios that could happen today, at the Avengers Towers, on why the Avengers would think that you weren't cut out for this. You were really good, there was no doubt about that; you were trained in hand to hand combat, espionage, you were good with weapons, with the small guns and also the big ones; you could say you were pretty good with your sniping skills. But, you hadn't been on a mission for the SHEILD in a long time, especially not after your messy divorce with Wallis, your ex husband who had been your colleague and your partner at SHEILD, the one person you always went on missions with. It had taken you a long time to come out of the emotional trauma that came with a separation, and to worsen it all, he had been the one that you had caught with another woman in your bed, on a night you almost escaped death, on one of your solo missions.

You were already dressed and ready by the time you were picked up and dropped off at the Stark Towers, with Fury by your side.

You wouldn't lie if you would say that you were starstruck, by just a look at the exterior of it. It was heavenly. And the interior. You didn't even want to comment on it, it was that breathtaking, a complete opposite to the SHEILD headquarters.

"Like it?" Fury chuckled next to you, breaking your thought process, and a faint hue of a blush to grace your cheeks. As the two of you got into the elevator, you turned around and gasped slightly at the sight of the entire city of Manhattan right there in front of your eyes, from a little glass box.

"Friday, Tony's lab, please. Thank you."

"Right away, Director, and Miss Y/N," the AI chortled back, causing your eyes to widen even further. Friday was like a celebrity to you, and now finally you were here, at a place you had only dreamt of being, and the reality was slowly sinking in.

The elevator pinged open, and Fury was the first one to step out, followed by you as the two of you walked into what looked like a really high technology lab. Your eyes marvelled at the sight, and you just looked around, your eyes scanning through it all, your mind still in a daze.

"Welcome, welcome to my humble abode," there he was, the man himself, the man behind all of this, the famous Tony Stark. Although you had met him before, and Steve and Natasha as well, it was back at the SHEILD headquarters.

"Tony Stark, long time no see."

"Well, I've been busy you see," he smirked smugly at you, but soon, a small smile paved its way over his lips and he slowly engulfed you in a warm hug.

"Welcome home, I always did say to Fury."

"What?" You raised an eyebrow, side glancing your boss, who was, for a change, having a smile of his own over his lips.

"You always belonged with us, here at the Avengers Towers. He never really let you go," he gave Fury a look and then, his friendly demeanor altogether changed and a professional look took over his face, his features turning stoic. "Now Fury have you spoken to her about her trainings?"

"Not yet."

"Great, so–" Tony dramatically clapped his hands together, "With a great position comes great responsibilities."

"With power you mean?" You chuckled.

"Yes yes. And that," he winked playfully, only to straighten up again. "But that power needs to be harnessed. You will be put into training, like all the newbies we get and we will get to decide when and if you have what it takes to be one of us."

Fury nodded, and you looked at him, noting how he was beaming at you, like a proud father, causing your confidence to boost up as you nodded in Tony's direction.

"When do we start?"

"Hold that thought, ah, Friday? Can you please ask Captain to join us, please?"

"Right away, Mr. Stark." The AI replied.

"Well then, so that fixes it."

A comfortable silence fell over the lab and Tony walked off to look at something on one of his screens. You fixed yourself by the glass staring out at the picturesque view of the city of Manhattan. It wasn't long when you heard heavy footsteps behind you, and finally when you heard Fury greet Steve, you realized he had joined the lot of you. The minute you turned around, your eyes fell on him and with a soft smile, you nodded in his direction, "Mr. Rogers."

╞═════𖠁𐂃𖠁═════╡

Bucky wasn't having the best day.

At first, he had woken up to bone chilling nightmare. If that wasn't all, he had taken his motorcycle out for a ride, and somehow he had parked it when he had reached the cliff, and made his way to the edge to just stare at the horizon, when someone had somehow managed to steal the bike. And if that wasn't the worst part of the day, he was sexually frustrated and utterly sex deprived as he had just returned yesterday from almost a month long mission.

Sam being the nice person he was, had tried to warn most of te people to stay out of Bucky's way today; because today, he was really biting.

But he really hadn't warned you.

Because he still didn't know who you were.

After having met with Steve in Tony's lab, Fury had left, and Steve had opted to walk you around the facility, until he had dropped you off at your apartment on the seventh floor. He had told you that you were to share this floor with a few of the Avengers, but he was in a hurry so he had asked you to come find him later in the evening. Besides, you had to be ready to train with him today at 7 in the evening.

It was already 5 by the time you stepped into your apartment; your eyes widening in awe when you saw the interior of it. The furniture was sleek and modern, made out of the best quality of wood there could be, and the walls were painted a spotless white, numerous abstract paintings hanging on the walls.

You gotta hand it to Tony, the man sure did have a taste.

It didn't take you long to fill the walk in closet up with your clothes, and even after filling up the two bags that you had brought over, you couldn't help but marvel at how much space the closet still had for more stuff, giving you an inspiration to shop for a dozen more outfits. However, now wasn't the time to think about it, and instead you decided to grab yourself a mug of coffee from the kitchen, so you could be alert and fresh for your training session with Captain.

Whistling to yourself, and with the help of Friday, you did manage to find your way to the massive kitchen, adjoining the spacious recreation room that was empty when you reached. Walking into the kitchen, you filled up your mug with piping hot coffee to the brim, and lifted the mug up, walking out of the kitchen.

Little did you know that a mistake was bound to happen on your first day here.

Bucky had just stepped out of the gym, dressed in a tight white tank top and his joggers, his hair all sweaty and sticking to his face. At first he had decided to hop right into the shower, and maybe get a little frisky, but at the last moment, he finally gave up on that idea, having decided to stall the shower for a little more time so he could grab himself a granola bar from the kitchen.

Although his feet made a lot of ruckus as he walked into the recreation room, and towards the kitchen, but perhaps you were so engrossed in licking your lips, eyeing the mug of coffee in your hands that you failed to hear him come in.

You stepped out of the kitchen at the exact same time when he tried to enter, and you ended up crashing into him, your hot coffee spilling all over his white tank, causing a massive stain.

Bucky cursed as the coffee came in contact with his flesh, a faint hissing sound escaping from his lips, which was probably due to the burn that he could now feel on his abs. His eyes turned venomous instantly, and his face contorted in fury.

"Even with a pair of glasses on, you still cannot watch where you going?" He barked at you, in a rude tone.

You looked at the stain on his abs, and then back up at him, not failing to notice the blue in his eyes, mentally cursing yourself for how clumsy you were.

"I – I'm really sorry, I –" You started stammering, only to be cut off by him again.

"Your sorry won't fix the mess you made, would it?" Sarcasm dripped through his words, and now, you were starting to feel how this man was simply overreacting. You spilling a piping hot mug of coffee over him wasn't really that much of a big deal, was it?

"Let me wash it –"

"We have machines that does that stuff for us, you really don't have to bother. Now, if you don't mind, you are in my way," the blue eyed man simply huffed, his face slowly turning cold and emotionless, as he crossed his arms over his chest, watching you and waiting for you to move out of his way. Maybe you weren't that fast in moving; and you understood this when you felt him roughly push himself past you, ignoring the way you fell to your side by the weight of his body, almost crashing against the doorframe and hurting your side.

"Really? Did you just fucking push me?"

This time, you turned around, your eyes contorted in fury, and your lips laced together, in a hope that pressing your lips together like that would stop your curses from flowing out.

"Would you rather have had me jump over you? You aren't exactly small."

He had his back now turned towards you, his body bent over the fridge as he callously moved his hands through the contents of the fridge.

"Prick."

Shaking your head, you took a step away, leaving the now empty mug of coffee on the slab before making your way out of the kitchen.

You were fuming.

(Feedback is always appreciated.)

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[blackbutler-readerinsertsandjunk]

Hey hello, I have no idea who Eric and Alan are (from the musical I guess) and I know nothing about your oc, so could you please write something for them? I'm curious.

yes, Eric and Alan are from the second (second?? I think second) Kuroshitsuji musical, The Most Beautiful DEATH in the World! the musicals are honestly really good, I 1000% recommend them if you can find them on YouTube or something!

Eric and Alan are such good characters, I have the biggest crushes on both of ‘em, and I LOVE the idea of a poly ship with them, so I did a little thing with that concept here~

also I have a TON of OCs so I’m not sure which one you wanted to know more about? “them” makes me think you’re referring to my genderfluid Phantomhive servant Marlowe, but I’m not sure ;w; however I love to write about my OCs so when the askbox opens back up, if you’re still curious, please do let me know!!

for now, here’s some Eric x reader x Alan goodness! featuring a SMALL cameo by my newest OC Elysia Malla, the department head of the British Branch Reapers’ Medical Division :D

Just like most times you want to hang out at the Reaper Dispatch building, ERIC has to sneak you in.

And not so much sneak you in, as put a pair of glasses on you, tell you not to look anyone in the eye, pretend you’re “that new transfer from Sussex”, and under absolutely no circumstances let anyone tell his boss that you’re visiting. It’s a poor effort because like most supernatural creatures, Grim Reapers can sense humans. You’re pretty sure the whole office knows what’s up by now.

Of course, as long as you get to come visit ALAN, especially when he’s not doing very well, you’ll happily pretend the other Reapers are none the wiser.

Eric’s had his arm around your shoulder the whole time you walk, as usual. Not only is he protective of you, he also pretty obviously relishes any chance to give you affection that he can. Even though you’ve heard a few of the other Reapers say he’s intimidating or serious, that hasn’t been your experience. He’s big-hearted and friendly, and is forever sneaking kisses when he thinks nobody’s looking. You consider yourself incredibly lucky to have him as one of your lovers.

“So, he’s doing better now, right?” you ask as the two of you approach the door of the Medical Division.

“Mhm, doin’ a lot bet’er. He wouldn’t say it, bu’ I think he’d do good wit’ seein’ ye. Jus’ keep it down’, y’ knoo, ‘r ye migh’ get th’ stink-eye from ol’ Nurse Frightingale.” Eric winks before opening the door and gesturing you to walk through. “Aft’r ye, m’ darlin’.”

You push up on your tiptoes to press a kiss to his jaw. “What a gentleman.” With that you slip inside, Eric following so he can close the door behind the two of you.

The Medical Divisionis as quiet as most hospitals you’ve ever been in. It’s cool in temperature and you can hear the chip-choppy hum of an electric fan or two. That along with the sound of some machines are the only things you can hear, though. Everything is a soft white or pale blue shade, and more than anything, the air smells clean with soap and disinfectant. Despite Eric’s not-quite-incorrect observation of the department head, this is a relaxing place that perpetuates healing.

“Afternoon, Elysia,” he greets with a raised hand. “Jus’ brought (Name) by f’r a li’l bit, ‘f tha’s okay?”

The department head peers through her glasses at him with a very unimpressed look on her face. “Don’t get so casual, Mr. Slingby. It’s ‘Nurse Malla’ to you. Feel free to stay as long as you wish, provided you don’t get rowdy. The last thing Mr. Humphries needs is the two of you working him into a tizzy.”

He gives her a salute and mimes zipping his lips shut. “Aye, no w’rries, Nurse Malla. Ye go’ m’ word tha’ we won’t dare do nothin’ excitin’.”

You can’t help but smother a giggle as Elysia gives a long-suffering sigh. “Enjoy your visit.”

“’Preciate it, m’ lady!” Eric grins as he ushers you over to the bed Alan’s in right now.

Predictably, he looks to be attempting to review something in his ledger even though he’s clearly not feeling great. Behind his spectacles, his eyes look tired, and his shoulders are sagging like he wants nothing more than to sleep. Based on what Eric told you, however, he’s been asleep for an hour or so now.

You make sure Alan can see you before lowering yourself down onto the bed, leaning over and giving his forehead a gentle kiss. “Busy little bee, aren’t you?”

“Ah… (Name). Oh, dear, I didn’t expect Eric to bring you by.” He melts into the kiss anyway, and into the identical one that Eric gives him once he sits down. “Mm, you two. You didn’t have to come here… I’ll be leaving soon.”

You reach for his hand, and he doesn’t stop you, curling his fingers around yours. When you glance down, you’re not surprised to see thorny scars starting to twine around his wrist. “You need to relax,” you murmur. “That’s why this attack happened, isn’t it? Stress.”

“It could have been, or it could have just been from nothing. This disease doesn’t need a reason to flare up.” Alan lifts your hand and presses a reassuring kiss to your knuckles. “Don’t worry about me, darling. The attack only lasted a moment, and I’m feeling much better now.”

Eric chuckles, taking Alan’s other hand. “Aw, c’mon, d’ar. Ye cannae fault th’ poor thing f’r bein’ w’rried ‘bout ye. (Name)’s righ’ tha’ ye work tae hard.”

Alan offers an exhale through his nose, exasperated look obviously aimed at the both of you. “And you don’t work hard enough, dear. So it balances out. Anyway, I don’t fault them for being worried. I…” It seems the only reason he pauses is to glance at you with a vaguely guilty look. “… I’m just trying to reassure you, love.”

“I know.” You mirror the kiss he gave your hand on his, the same way Eric did with the kiss to Alan’s forehead. The one difference you make is that your kiss is pressed to the forming scars on his wrist. “I can’t help worrying when this happens, though. You and Eric are really important to me. I just want you to take care of yourself.” You bring his hand down, then give him a smirk. “Or you could just let us do it?”

Barely a second passes before Eric claps you on the shoulder. “Aye, darlin’, tha’s a grea’ idea!! Alrigh’, it’s settled then.”

Alan arches an eyebrow. It appears you’ve both lost him. “Oh, goodness. Dare I even ask what is settled, Eric?”

That grin on Eric’s face would definitely be trouble if he weren’t your partner in crime right at this moment. “Soon’s ye ge’ outta haur, we’re haulin’ y’r s’rry arse home early, an’ then it’s time f’r nothin’ bu’ a night’a us takin’ care’a ye! Coimhead air sin,good idea, (Name)!”

“Oh. Oh, no, the two of you can’t just—”

Alan’s halfway through his protest when a pair of heels clicks on the floor. “Slingby! (Surname)! I warned you not to work him up. So that’s it; get out!”

It takes just seconds for Eric to tug you toward the door. “Thanks f’r once, Elysia! I’ll ‘ave s’me biscuits ‘r summat on y’r desk taemarra’ mornin’!”

What follows the two of you out is a frustrated, “It’s Nurse Malla! Get it wrong one more time and you’ll find yourself here as a patient!”

[hoerror]

Blog Promo

I'm pretty bad at introductions so this might be a mess but, you can call my Blair. It's not my real name but it fits well with my theme. I'm new here and have no idea of what the hell I'm doing. 

If you can't tell from my blog already I am completely obsessed with yanderes and the universe surrounding them. I'm also very big on horror. I made this blog mainly to talk about my garbage ocs and meet other people and their ocs, hopefully. I'm an introvert dealing with my own inner trauma and anxieties but I am a pretty laid back and easy to talk to, just a little rough around the edges. This is way for me to cope with my mental health and insecurities and trauma.

My ocs are more interesting than me and hopefully people will take interest in them but if not that's fine too. I just want to have a place to write and post about them. I have a lot more ocs but I only wanted to post one for now in case, I don't know, people didn't react well to it?...even though yandere is home to the twisted lmao.

______________________________________________________________

Name: Silas Damarion

Race: Human

Gender: Male

Age: 25

Height: 5'8"

Sexuality: Pansexual

Occupation: CEO

Story: Silas is the Ceo of the Demarion Agency. After his parents sudden and mysterious death he was appointed the position of CEO to the surprise of no one. Silas is the youngest of of his siblings having three older brothers. As the youngest of his siblings he was doted on by everyone and had everything handed down to him on a silver platter. The apple of his parents eyes and the source of his brothers affections. Whatever Silas wanted growing up he was given. His family smothered him in the finest of luxuries that most could only dream of. All throughout his life he has been praised by all who know him for his intelligence and natural leadership. This praise of course went to his head which caused him to develop a superiority complex and the worlds most inflated ego. To Silas, he was better than everyone and there was no one who could touch him. He might as well thought of himself as a god. 

Personality: Silas Damarion to the public is a charismatic man who is able to charm all with something as small a smile, a wink, and a wave. He was born with a silver tongue that pulls people in and makes them submit to his every command. Silas likes to reel people in, butter them up, learn everything there is to know about them - family, aspirations, insecurities, etc, etc. He hones in on these things to use to his advantage. He loves nothing more than to build people up and break them down piece by piece. He loves putting people in their place and showing them who in on the top of the world. 

Likes: Money, Fame, Attention, Sex, Traveling, 

Dislikes: Being Ignored, Being Disrespected, Lower Class, Disobedience, Children

Yandere Type: 

Clingy:

- Silas is very clingy. He wants to (HAS TO) be the only one his darling has eyes. He needs constant affection and cannot stand to be ignored. If you even think of showing someone that isn't him the slightest hint of attention he becomes enraged and that person becomes as good as dead. There is no such thing as privacy when you're with Silas. Every waking moment of your life is spent with him and only him. Kiss your friends and family goodbye because the only one in your life from now on is Silas. 

Manipulative:

- Silas is a master at manipulation. He will make you question anything and everything. He will guilt you, he will shame you, he will break you apart and leave you to pick up the pieces, watching in sick satisfaction as you stumble along the way. He uses his status and money against you - showering you in luxuries and wealth while stripping you of any financial independence so you have no choice but to depend on him. Without him you're nothing. You have no family, no friends, no money; you're nothing. He's used that silver tongue of his to ruin the lives of those who got in his way and he has no problem doing the same to you. It doesn't matter what other people think of you - his is the only opinion that matters.

Physical and Psychological Torture:

- Behind Silas's business persona he is downright cruel and manipulative. He treats those beneath him like dispensable tools that he's quick to get rid of whenever he bores of them. He enjoys causing people physical and mental pain -- it's his biggest turn on. Nothing excites him more than seeing someone sniveling on the ground as he stands over them.  No one is safe from his torture, not even his beloved little darling, in fact the abuse they face is much more grand than anyone else. You're the most beautiful to him when you're groveling to him on the ground, skin covered in bruises old and new, and tears streaming down your bloodstained face. He adores it. The sight of you crawling to him so very desperate for his praise and approval, begging and pleading for him gets him immediately hard. He'll let you suffer for a while before fucking you senseless (don't expect him to be gentle) to point you're on the verge of passing out. Only when he's had his fill of you will he get you the proper attention you need and even then, he’ll be counting down the minutes until he can do it all over again.

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In short I hate him with a passion but would gladly give him the gluck gluck

Also maybe recommend me some blogs to check out! I’d love to follow people :)

[ggukcangetit]

Dreamcatchers Chap 3

Pairing: jungkook x oc

Synopsis: DI Jeon didn’t need a new partner. Unfortunately, his superiors felt otherwise; especially considering the extremely high-profile murder that had just taken place in the port city. Recent transfer, DI Choi Yuri finds herself confronted with a new cityscape, unfamiliar people, a hostile partner, and a homicide that is certain to bring back unpleasant memories.

Genre/AU: fluff/action/mystery | detective! au | police!jungkook, police!oc

Word Count: 4.1k

Rating: NC-17

Warnings: mentions of violence, alcohol, blood, drugs, death. Basically stuff you’d associate with a murder mystery/crime drama

Previous: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5

Acknowledgement: shoutout to @stutterfly​ for designing this beautiful banner which i am completely in love with and stare at for no particular reason throughout the day

A/N:  reminding everyone that this story features a named oc because i’m still very unfamiliar with writing second person reader inserts. i’m not aiming for strict accuracy in this story, and all criminal investigation/forensics knowledge i have has been gathered by watching crime drama/procedural dramas! my knowledge of geography is also not totally accurate so apologies for that. once again, one thing right by @hobios​ prompted me to write a police inspector! jungkook story. would highly recommend reading that because it’s probably one of my most favorite pieces of writing!

18th December

Ahreum parked her motorbike outside the bakery and checked her phone for messages. There were none. This wasn’t unusual in itself, except for the fact that she had been supposed to meet him 2 hours ago at the other end of town. Which meant that he was hiding from her. 

“Where is he?” she asked, walking up to the counter and heaving a tired sigh.

Seokjin pressed his lips together, trying to suppress the grin that was threatening to break out. Ahreum was definitely a force to be reckoned with - usually bright and overflowing with energy, there was only one situation that caused the optimist in her to hurtle towards a speedy demise. 

“Can I interest you in some raspberry choux au craquelin?” He picked up a tray with freshly baked pastry and waved it enticingly in front of her.

“This doesn’t work on me, Seokjin. Although-” she picked up a few and wrapped them in some paper napkins - “I’m sure Yuri would love to try these. Now, where is he?”

Seokjin sighed and took off his apron. “He’s in the room right at the back where I do the accounts.”

Ahreum sighed and walked around the back of the counter, heading towards the rooms at the back of the bakery. Seokjin had three areas at the back - his kitchen (really no one other than him was allowed in here), the store room (which was way too small to fit even one full grown person in it), and the accounts room (where a certain someone had taken to hiding whenever things got a little too difficult). 

And sure enough, a mop of curly black hair was visible from the door to the accounts room. On any other day, Ahreum would’ve found his shenanigans extremely hilarious; but she was really not in the mood for any silly games today.

“You were supposed to meet me two hours ago.” Her voice was soft but it still made him jump up and nearly knock over the PC he had been fidgeting with. 

“Fuck!” he gasped. “What the hell? I nearly died!”

Ahreum rolled her eyes as she helped him up. “Don’t be dramatic, Tae. It’s really not as attractive as you think.”

Be that as it may, there was not much that could be considered unattractive on Kim Taehyung. He was somewhat of a social media celebrity thanks to the aesthetically taken pictures of his undoubtedly handsome face - all of which Ahreum had taken. In fact, when Ahreum had shown Yuri some of the pictures from her instagram page, she had gasped rather loudly.

“He’s literally a piece of art!”

“I mean, yes, he’s definitely conventionally attractive,” conceded Ahreum, a little annoyed that her photography was almost completely being ignored. “But what do you think of the pictures?”

“‘Conventionally attractive’? Is that the best you can do with your Literature & Creative Writing degree?”

Ahreum peered over his shoulder to see what he was working on so intently, only to find that he was-

“Playing a game?? You ditched me to play a fucking PC game?” she gasped, whacking his shoulder hard. “What the hell is wrong with you, Kim Taehyung?!”

“No!” He held his hands up to protect himself from further blows. “I just started playing a few minutes ago! I swear!”

“Why’d you ditch, then?”

“Because…” he trailed off, looking away guiltily. That, in essence, was the entire problem regarding Kim Taehyung. He ran at the sight of any kind of responsibility or hard work. Correction - any kind of hard work that wasn’t related to his hobbies. 

“You were supposed to finish reviewing company policies today so that you wouldn’t be unprepared when you meet your dad tomorrow.”

“I know.” He looked downcast, switching off the PC monitor. “I just-”

“If this isn’t what you want to do, you should just tell them.” Seokjin walked into the room, untying his apron carefully. 

“I don’t know,” sighed Taehyung. “I’m not sure if this is what I want to do, but I don’t know what else I could possibly do. I’m not like you.”

“You don’t have to be like me, Taehyung,” sighed Seokjin. 

Taehyung let out a humorless laugh. “Eomma and Appa sure are trying their damned best that I do become like you. At least, like you till you ran away.”

Seokjin snorted. “They’re tenacious, if nothing else.”

“Are you ever gonna come home?” asked Taehyung, looking up for the first time.

“No.”

This had never been an easy topic of discussion. Mr. and Mrs. Kim were owners of the largest financial consulting firm in Busan. They were well-liked in society and highly respected for their unusually ethical business practices. So it was a huge shock when their elder son - who had gotten an MBA and possessed all the qualities of heading a large company - had left home suddenly, leaving only a single note.

This is not the life for me. I have dreams of my own. I don’t think I can stay in touch. Please forgive me. 

There were many tears shed, but recovery was quick as a new successor had to be found. Thus, the Kims’ younger son - the one who had lived a charmed and carefree life while his brother learned about business techniques and the history of the company - was suddenly thrust into the front line. 

Naturally, when Taehyung had run into his brother a few miles outside of the metropolitan, running a cozy bakery, he had been less than thrilled. Ahreum still remembered the angry tears that had rolled down her friend’s usually cheerful face. Seokjin, on the other hand, looked so conflicted that Ahreum thought he might just combust on the spot. It had taken a few weeks, but the brothers had eventually reconciled. Taehyung had made a deal with his parents - he would attend all meetings and grooming lessons as long as he was allowed to live somewhere else. And that somewhere else happened to be Seokjin’s small, but tastefully done up, apartment. 

Taehyung usually had 4 meetings in a week; all ending by 4 pm so that he could drive home before nightfall. The rest of the days, he was free to do whatever he pleased. This arrangement had worked well for almost 3 months, but Taehyung’s free-spirited nature could only hold out for so long. He had been reaching meetings late, forgetting to complete paperwork, and even sneaking out early if he could manage it. Seokjin had requested Ahreum to make sure his younger brother attended all his meetings because he was always managing the bakery at those times. Seokjin himself made sure that Taehyung didn’t forget to do any of the work that had been assigned to the younger boy during his meetings. 

Today, however, Ahreum realised that her friend was at his breaking point. He had done everything in his power to avoid her so that he wouldn’t have to prepare for the meeting. Not just that, Seokjin-

“Why’d you let him hide here?” Ahreum turned towards the older Kim brother, her hands on her hips - a sure sign that her patience was running thin. “After the dozens of lectures you gave me about making sure he’s doing what he’s supposed to, you go ahead and help him play hooky? What the hell, Seokjin?”

Seokjin didn’t know how to explain to her that he felt guilty. Guilty that his younger brother was suffering like this, guilty that his parents were so desperate that they had decided to entrust the future of the company to a young boy who had missed his final university exam because he had found a stray puppy during his morning cycle rides (and had promptly decided to adopt it). But Seokjin couldn’t leave behind his dream - his resentment towards his family had been growing with each passing year, and the drastic move and change in communication had been a desperate attempt to stop himself from hating his family forever. Caught between doing right by his own self and by his parents and younger brother, Seokjin often questioned if any of this was worth it. 

But rather than explain all this to his brother’s friend - who had pinned him with a rather glowering look - he did what he always did in difficult situations. He avoided answering directly and used humor to deflect everything.

“I was cleaning up your mess, unfortunately. I’m not the one who lost him during a fixed study session, Ahreum. You should be thanking me,” he grinned, dodging the pencil Ahreum threw at him. “But since I’m such a generous, handsome, charming, and talented individual, I’ll let it slide and pack two large boxes of pastries for you to take home. One for your friend and the other for Namjoon. No charge, it’s on the house.”

Ahreum rolled her eyes while Taehyung giggled at his brother’s speech. 

“I’d better get 4 large iced teas along with the pastries,” she said, finally relenting. Seokjin winked at her and went back to the front of the store to get everything prepared.

“I’m sorry for ditching you,” Taehyung said softly, his black curls falling over his eyes. “It won’t happen again, I promise.”

“Maybe we should try and figure out a different system. How many more of these meetings and lessons do you need to attend, anyway? Why don’t you ask your parents if you can reduce the number of meetings in a week?”

“I guess I could,” he replied, thoughtfully. “By the way, did you see Jimin on your way here?”

Ahreum shook her head. “Nope. Was I supposed to have?”

“No… it’s just that-” he checked his phone absentmindedly. “He hasn’t been answering any of my calls or texts since last night.”

“Since when does Park Jimin start his day before 3 pm?” scoffed Ahreum. “He’s probably hungover at some girl’s apartment.”

 “Aw come on, Ahreum. He’s been so much better recently,” whined Taehyung. “And I’m not saying that just because he’s my best friend. He barely parties anymore - unless it’s a business appointment. He’s been helping his dad with the business as well. Unlike me, he actually goes to work 5 days a week.”

“Wow, let’s give him a medal for doing the bare minimum.” 

Seokjin appeared at that moment, holding two bulging pastry boxes and a cup holder with 4 cups of iced tea.

“Tell Namjoon to drop by sometime, or that’s the last eclair he’ll be seeing!” he yelled as Ahreum strapped on her helmet and bade goodbye.

xxx

Jeongguk sat at his desk, his mind straying to that night in November. He could clearly recall the murder - the young woman on the ground, blood leaking from the multiple stab wounds all over her abdomen. She lived on part-time jobs, her demeanour quiet and unassuming as recounted by the handful of employers who had managed to recall her face. It was not surprising that she did not have too many possessions of her own, her life neatly tucked away into a one-room storage on the ground floor of a run-down building. But it wasn’t all of this that kept distracting Jeongguk from almost everything in his life - it was the picture of a three year old girl, the only evidence of life in the entire room, smiling brightly at her mother. The mother who lay in a pool of her own blood, and the little girl who had been missing since that day. 

“The ramen’s gone cold? Things must have really changed since I last saw you, Jeongguk.”

Jeongguk turned around at the sound of a familiar voice, his eyes lighting up in surprise.

“Yoongi? What are you doing here?” he asked, getting up and hugging his friend. “Why aren’t you in Seoul, putting bigwigs behind bars?”

“Let’s get some lamb skewers. My treat.” Jeongguk grinned at the suggestion, the grisly murder and the missing girl temporarily forgotten.

20 minutes later, they were sitting at a hole in the wall diner that Jeongguk hadn’t been to since he had been promoted to Detective Inspector. 

“Are you telling me that our own Min Yoongi is now a father? The same guy who instilled fear in the hearts of the juniors by narrowing his eyes at them?” 

Yoongi laughed, his gummy smile appearing for the first time. “She’s almost 4 weeks old. Sometimes I’m not even sure if she’s real. But then Eunbi puts me on diaper duty and there’s no way that smell can’t be real.”

“Knew she was something special the day she called you out on your bullshit,” grinned Jeongguk. “The famous Min Eye Narrowing technique didn’t work on her.”

“Yeah, she told me to stop pulling all-nighters and get a new prescription from my eye doctor,” recalled Yoongi, adjusting his glasses. “Turns out the famous Min Eye Narrowing technique was just plain old myopia.”

“But enough about me,” he continued, once Jeongguk had stopped laughing. “Why was that ramen sitting out and getting cold?”

Normally, Jeongguk wouldn’t discuss the details of a case with anyone else. But Yoongi wasn’t just anyone - they had trained at the same police academy in Seoul and the older boy had quickly understood that 18 year old Jeongguk wasn’t a standoffish troublemaker; just extremely homesick. Even after Jeongguk had moved back to Busan, he and Yoongi still kept in touch with each other, no matter how sporadic.

Jeongguk sighed and explained the details of the November case. “I just can’t let it go. Where is that little girl? We haven’t found a body either - so there’s a chance she might still be alive. It’s just- I think I’m going crazy.”

“I understand,” said Yoongi, wiping his mouth with a napkin. “That pathetic partner of yours can’t be of much use either, I’m sure. Still don’t know how they promoted Song to Detective Inspector. I’ve always maintained that he’s one shot away from becoming an alcoholic.”

“Well you weren’t wrong,” said Jeongguk, with a resigned chuckle. “They relieved him of his duties a couple of months ago.”

“Oh? Who’s your new partner then?”

“Some annoying Captain America wannabe,” grumbled Jeongguk. It was a well-known fact that he was a huge Iron Man fan and had not appreciated the ending of Civil War. “Choi Yuri - she’s from Seoul.”

“Choi Yuri?!” asked Yoongi, his eyes widening comically. “Your new partner is Yuri??”

“You know her?” asked Jeongguk, frowning.

“Of course I know her! We worked together for almost 3 years!” exclaimed Yoongi. “Wait, why’d you call her a Captain America wannabe? You hate Steve Rogers.”

“I do not hate Steve Rogers. I hate Captain America. There’s a difference.”

“Still doesn’t explain why you don’t like Yuri.”

“She’s too by-the-book.” Jeongguk frowned, his fingers twirling the chopsticks absentmindedly. “Perfect first impression, perfectly friendly to everyone, perfectly punctual; Goh absolutely loves her. I’m sure she’ll get in the way of the investigation because of her need to follow procedure to the t.”

Yoongi frowned. “That... doesn’t sound like her. I mean, she’s definitely punctual but she’s never made a great first impression. She usually comes off as reserved, aloof - haughty even.”

“Maybe she’s changed,” shrugged Jeongguk, not particularly interested in the personality changes of his new partner.

“She has. I didn’t think that incident would have affected her like this. But…” Yoongi trailed off, staring at nothing in particular.

“What incident?”

“The reason she was transferred from Seoul. Hasn’t she told you?”

“No.”

“I don’t know if I should…” muttered Yoongi, his face reflecting his inner conflict. “But if knowing the truth makes it easier for you two to work together, then…”

Jeongguk frowned, wondering what exactly the big mystery was.

“We were investigating a homicide and it led us to a very high profile family in Seoul. It was quite clear that the eldest son was involved in the murder. I was Chief Inspector at that time, and we were getting a lot of pressure from above to wrap up the case without involving the family. But Yuri was determined to pursue the investigation. She had even rented an apartment closer to work so that she could devote more time to the case. One night, when she got back to her apartment, someone attacked her. It was quite brutal and she needed a couple of surgeries and two months of therapy after that. We eventually had to drop the case against the eldest son. Right after that, Yuri got her transfer letter. I didn’t know she had been transferred here, otherwise I would’ve told you about her. She’s a smart detective, Jeongguk. Just try and work with her. Maybe she needs some time to adjust to getting back to work after that entire fiasco.”

Jeongguk was stunned. He would never have thought Yuri had gone through something so traumatic if Yoongi hadn’t told him. Her outward demeanour hinted at nothing of the sort, and he felt a small bubble of guilt forming in his stomach.

xxx

Yuri sat at her desk, going over the autopsy report for the twentieth time. There were no leads (other than a very uncooperative Park Jimin), no physical evidence, no concrete motive - things were looking increasingly hopeless. On top of that, she still had to contend with an asshole of a partner. 

“Yuri?” Seulgi ran up to her desk, slightly out of breath. “Where’s Jeon?”

“Dunno,” she shrugged. “Why? What’s wrong?”

“I think we may have something.” Seulgi pulled up a chair and sat down beside her. “After the autopsy concluded that Eunwoo hit his head after being pushed, I wondered if there was a proper fight preceding that. So I examined his clothes and hands once again - to try and find any evidence of a scuffle. And I did. There was dried blood, not a lot, put enough for me to run a test on it. And you know what I found?”

“It wasn’t Eunwoo’s blood.”

“Exactly. Which means...?”

“It might be from the person who fought with and then shoved him to his death.”

“Unfortunately, the blood on the sleeve doesn’t belong to anyone in the system so I would need a sample to test it against.” Seulgi waved a hand in front of Yuri, trying to get her attention.

“Oh yeah… Sorry. Yeah, a blood sample. Our only suspect right now is Park Jimin. But we let him go yesterday because we didn’t have anything concrete to hold him.”

Seulgi frowned. “So what are you waiting for? Ask him to come in and provide a blood sample.”

“It’d be completely voluntary, though. He has every right to refuse,” said Yuri, closing her eyes in frustration. She had a feeling there was no way Park Jimin would cooperate with her now when he had blatantly refused to provide an alibi earlier. 

“I know you’re new here, Yuri,” said Seulgi. “But Jimin’s an asshole. Everyone knows that. He’s evaded the law so many times because his father has the best lawyers on his payroll. That’s why he’s not in the system even though he deserves to be - he’s bought his way out multiple times.”

“You really don’t like him, do you?” asked Yuri, genuinely curious.

Seulgi’s body stiffened at the question and she stood up suddenly. “I’m just stating facts. I don’t know him personally.” 

Yuri could see that she had touched a nerve. “I’ll try and get him to give a blood sample. How long would you need to run the test?”

“I can have it done the same day if I get the sample early enough.”

Yuri pocketed her phone and keys, swiping the half-empty bottle of water from her desk, and walked towards the exit. Her mind was thinking of how exactly she could convince Park Jimin to willingly provide a blood sample. Try as she might, she couldn’t shake off the wariness she felt around young sons of influential businessmen and politicians. She no longer knew what the right step forward should be in an investigation. Something that was instinctive and almost second-nature to her, had been robbed from her and she had no idea how to get it back. Her continuous second-guessing would eventually show in the investigation, and she had no doubt that Jeon would jump at the chance to expose her inadequacies. Once again, she felt alone and vulnerable; somehow trying to survive while her weaknesses were laid bare for anyone to pick at. She had never felt this powerless since graduating from the academy.  

In her distracted state, Yuri almost ran into heavy incoming traffic. Almost. Fortunately, someone grabbed a hold of her and yanked her back by her elbow before she could become roadkill.

“Oh my god! Thank you so much! I-I wasn’t looking where I was-” she stopped short as she realized who had pulled her back to safety.

“Yoongi?!”

“Don’t sound so surprised. I’m not the one who was heading directly into peak traffic,” said Yoongi, rolling his eyes. “Are you okay?”

“Y-yeah I’m fine,” she said, still trying to process everything. “What are you doing here?”

Before Yoongi could reply, another voice spoke up. 

“Why don’t you guys go ahead and catch up? The coffee shop across the street isn’t too bad. I need to attend to some paperwork anyway, so don’t worry about me. I’ll see you later, Yoongi.”

Yuri stared open-mouthed as Yoongi grinned and thanked Jeon for lunch.

“So, coffee?”

It had been a few months since Yuri had seen her friend and senior. He didn’t look too different, except for the bags under his eyes. Maybe he had become a little thinner as well.

“You didn’t tell me why you’re here,” said Yuri, once they had both gotten their orders. 

“I came to pick up something for the little one,” said Yoongi, opening a packet of sugar and offering it to her.

“Shit. I totally forgot! The last time I saw you, Eunbi was approaching her due date! How is she? And how’s baby Min doing?”

Yoongi scrunched his nose at the last question. “Baby Min is a horrible way to address anyone. Let’s not do that. Eunbi’s fine, and so is the little one. We still haven’t decided on a name yet.”

“I’m sure you’ll think of a really beautiful name,” Yuri said, smiling softly. “There’s no need to rush.”

“How are you?”

Yoongi’s question was simple. But they both knew that the answer to it was anything but.

“I don’t know.” The frown on her face told Yoongi that a direct approach was not going to work.

“I heard that you haven’t been getting along well with your new partner,” he asked instead, suppressing a grin when her eyes lit up furiously.

“About that,” said Yuri, crossing her arms over her chest. “How do you know Jeon?”

“Jeongguk and I trained at the same academy. I was a couple of years ahead of him. But we have a mutual love of lamb skewers that helped us bond. He’s a good kid.”

“Could’ve fooled me,” muttered Yuri. “Didn’t think I’d ever doubt your character judgement abilities, Yoongi, but I’m gonna have to disagree with you on this one. Jeon’s an asshole. And he’s made things really difficult for me, even though it’s barely been three days since I started here.”

“I won’t lie,” chuckled Yoongi. “He didn’t have the best things to say about you either. But I think I know you both quite well. And I think you’ve both got bigger things weighing on you right now which have clouded your personalities. I’m not saying you should go ahead and become best buds right away. Just… keep an open mind.”

Yuri remained quiet, not sure how she felt about what Yoongi had just said. It annoyed her that her friend didn’t appear to be on her side completely. 

“I can see that you aren’t liking what I’m saying and the annoyance has already started to show on your face,” said Yoongi with a twinkle in his eye. “So I’m just going to say one last thing on the issue. The 2nd November case that Jeongguk’s been overseeing - I want you to go over it. You might be able to help.”

“I don’t know if that’s such a good idea…”

“I know that you’re scared. Your fear is completely understandable. But that’s just a part of you - maybe a bigger part than you would like, but a part nonetheless. You didn’t choose this and you definitely didn’t want this. But it’s something that you are going to have to accept eventually. The scars that are formed unknowingly, unwantedly, mistakenly - they are all part of your constellation.”

It was strange. Yoongi hadn’t told her to overcome her fears - he hadn’t even asked her exactly what it was that she was afraid of. But his words had struck a chord somewhere. 

When they parted outside the station a little later, Yuri stared at her friend while trying to decide what to tell him. In the end, she settled for something professional whose meaning was deeply personal to the two of them.

“I’m sorry they demoted you.”

xxx

hey everyone! hope you’re enjoying the story so far. feel free to drop a message/ask if you have any questions/thoughts on the story.

[stonebreakerseries]

Day3: Youth + “You did this?”

Day 3 of @oc-growth-and-development​​’s OC-tober challenge and the @fictober-event​!

Series: Stonebreaker (Original Fiction) Characters: Tellene & Re’an

If the knock at her door had been any more timid, Tellene might have mistaken it for a trick of the wind. Well, it’s about time. Huffing, she reached down, sliding the key around her wrist into a small hole in her desk. With a twist, the door at the far side of the room clicked open. “Come in,” she said, taking a brief moment to check the state of her robes, making sure the red lapel lay flat and creaseless. Appearances were important business in Tel Shival. Almost as important as one’s skill, although the two seemed closer in competition now than they used to be. It was difficult to stand out in a place so overflowing with talent. Both the Allied Kingdoms and Khathi Empire only ever sent their best, and even then, most were turned away.

Luckily, Tellene, First of the Weavers, never had a problem making a name for herself.

It had been quite some time since she last dealt with an accolt. Being the youngest and least capable among their ranks, Tellene never had the patience to hold their hands as they trembled their way through basic glyphstrings. In fact, it was a testament to her dislike of instructing that she only spent a year as a Leirah before seeking - and gaining - a place among the Maesars. Now, Tellene folded her hands in front of her and fixed her narrowed gaze on the door as it tentatively inched open.

Oh Divider’s Own...

“Quickly, accolt. My time is precious. I will not have it wasted.” 

That seemed to do the trick. By the drawing of her next breath, a nervous youth stood in her study, the door swinging shut behind him, his hands worrying the white sash around his waist. Like many from the western-most regions of the Empire, Re’an was slight in stature, his grey-brown skin reminding Tellene of the ashewoods that bordered her childhood home. While his entry record placed him at nineteen, he looked at least three years younger, with wide brown eyes and an almost frenetic disposition. Although, she conceded that could be circumstantial, given her reputation. Not to worry. The rigours of study and the intellectual warren of academia would age him soon enough.

However, and most interestingly, this young man had already found a way to stand out from the herd.

“M-Maeser Tellene,” Re’an stammered. Then, like a panicked afterthought, he raised two fingers to his throat and bowed his head reverently. Or it would have been reverent, if he didn’t appear moments away from fainting. “I, um… y-you sent for me?”

Tellene arched a brow. Rather than state the obvious, she simply cleared her throat and raised a small bundle of papers, bound together by a red string. Holding them aloft for Re’an to see, it was hard not to feel a little sympathy as the colour drained from his skin. “You did this?” she asked. 

Funny, how simple questions rarely received simple answers.

“No,” he replied immediately, almost instinctively, then hesitated. “I mean, I-I’m not… I’m not sure if… I don’t---”

---“Let me make this easier,” Tellene interjected. She flipped the papers over and inspected the cover page. “Is your name Re’an?”

He cringed, but nodded, some of the nervous energy bleeding out as he resigned himself to his fate. “Yes, Maesar.”

“And you are a third year accolt?”

“Yes, Maesar.”

“And you recently sat an exam for Leirah Sonoval’s class on...” She glanced at the paper again, barely concealing a frown. “Thaumic Rhetoric: A History of Dissent?”

What in the Divider’s name were they teaching these days?

With her opinions carefully hidden behind painfully endured etiquette training, Tellene simply returned her attention to Re’an. Again, he nodded, apparently having lost the ability to use his voice. Sighing, Tellene was about to press on, but an errant thought stopped her in her tracks. This could be an interesting moment to gauge his mettle. In fact, with what she intended, she would be remiss not to seize such an organic opportunity.

“I imagine,” she continued slowly, setting the papers down and turning to the first page, “you have some theories as to why you are here?”

To her surprise, Re’an didn’t hesitate, equivocate, or attempt any other twist of rhetoric he had so clearly studied. 

“I cheated.”

Good. So, he was reasonably honest, despite evidence to the contrary. That or he was clever enough to know that lying would serve him poorly. Either way, Tellene approved. If nothing else, it showed he could assess a situation quickly and with some accuracy, even while shaking hard enough she swore she could hear his bones clicking together. 

Folding her hands on her desk, Tellene flicked her gaze to the wooden chair at the side of the room, nestled between stacks of books. Hesitantly, Re’an followed her silent instruction, picking it up and carrying it over. Once he set it down, he stood awkwardly by its side, unsure of how to proceed. I love that my reputation still precedes me, Tellene thought, before making an acquiescing motion.

“Sit, and tell me exactly how you cheated.”

Even though Re’an perched on its edge, chair seemed to swallow him, his arms drawn close, heel bouncing agitatedly against the carpeted floor. But then, much to her surprise, his brown eyes flicked up, meeting her gaze. Holding it. 

Interesting. 

“You don’t already know?”

A faint smile threatened the corner of Tellene’s lips. She fended it off. “It is clear to anyone with a set of eyes that you copied entire sentences - sometimes paragraphs - from a variety of seminal texts.” She leaned forward, chair creaking slightly beneath her. “I asked how you did it, in an exam hall, under the watchful eye of three supervising Leirah. And do not lie to me. This is important.”

Re’an shifted, wiping his palms on his robes. It was though his skin was too tight and he wanted nothing more than to be rid of it. “I, ah…” The words stuck like glue to the back of his throat. “I... have a bane, Maesar.”

Tellene regarded him flatly. “A bane.” With a suffering sigh, she reached up, massaging her forehead with her fingertips. Unfortunately, it took time to overcome a youth spent surrounded by misinformed superstition; nonsense like banes and knacks and the old gods. It was yet another process she lacked patience for. “Oh, very well. What kind of bane, then?”

Clearly sensing her irritation - mostly because she never bothered to conceal it - Re’an refused to meet her gaze, chin down, fists pressed to the tops of his thighs. “I-I remember things well. Too well. Mostly things I read, like words, pictures, symbols...” He pulled in a breath, then mustered the courage to look up again. “Maeser Tellene, I read every text Leirah Sonoval set, then a few more outside the curriculum. The Maeser Librarian recommended some papers as well, and I read those too. Exams, they… they make me nervous. It gets hard to think, so I always over-prepare.”

“Many accolts feel the same way, and compensate similarly.” She tapped his paper with her nail, the sound sharp, ringing through the room. “That does not explain what you did here.”

Re’an hesitated. “I know what I need to say, most of the time. But when I start changing the words it just…” He wrinkled his nose, and Tellene saw an old frustration in the expression. This was not a recent struggle for him. “It just doesn’t sound right anymore. It’s like the way it was written the first time was how it was meant to go, and when I change it, something always gets lost. This time, when I saw the question, I panicked. So I just took the parts of what I read that seemed relevant and wrote them down. I didn’t even think about---”

Tellene held up a finger, silencing Re’an mid-sentence. “I did not ask for excuses. You are not here to beg forgiveness.”

The comment seemed to surprise him. “I’m not?” A genuine look of confusion swept across his face, followed closely by an even more surprising emotion. One that straightened his spine and brightened his eyes with something alarmingly familiar. “Then... why am I here?”

Curiosity.

Tellene leaned back in her chair, folding her hands over her stomach. “I have met many thaumists with incredible memories. In truth, as a Maesar Weaver, I consider myself among them. But even in the best of circumstances, none of us can transcribe entire passages of relevant information - from multiple resources - with perfect accuracy. Not the way you have. It is highly unusual.”

Some of the young man’s self-consciousness returned. “Yeah, I know.” He caught himself, stiffening. “Ah, I mean: yes, Maesar Tellene.”

She waved a dismissive hand. “How long have you been in Tel Shival, Re’an?”

“Three years.”

“Do you lack ambition?”

He blinked, startled. “No? Maesar, I---”

---“Then why have you hidden this skill for so long?”

Still rattled by her previous question, he answered this one with far less hesitation, hands shaking. “Because I didn’t want people treating me like I’m---”

Tellene raised her brows as Re’an bit off his sentence, his jaw physically clenching from the strain of it. “Like an anomaly?” she offered. Re’an huffed, a rueful smile tinging his lips that made him appear much closer to his age. Maybe even a little older.

“That is a... nicer way of putting it than I’m used to, Maesar.”

Ah. There it is. He had been hurt before. Treated like an oddity at best, an aberration at worst. She would have to tread more carefully than she thought. “Re’an,” she said, and her tone pulled him out of his mind and back into the room. “You are aware that what you are capable of is in no way a ‘bane’, are you not?” 

“I…” He looked down. “Yes, Maesar.”

Not so honest, then.

As much as Tellene lacked patience for most accolts, this one tugged at her. It spurred something almost protective; an instinct she thought she had fed to the sharks years ago. Perhaps being faced by a unique mind, still young enough to doubt its own capacity, had struck a chord she thought severed. Or perhaps she had simply uncovered some long-buried empathy.

Either way, she had made her decision.

“Cheating on a final exam is grounds for severe censure, depending on the Leirah. You are aware of this?”

Re’an squeezed his eyes shut. “Yes, Maesar.”

“And you are aware, being in your third year, that any censures on your record will severely jeopardise your opportunities when selecting a discipline?”

He sounded almost feverish. Defeated. “Yes, Maesar.” He swallowed tightly. “I… I want to apologise. I made a mistake. I will accept whatever punishment Leirah Sonoval sees fit.”

“Leirah Sonoval would have you expelled.”

Wide brown eyes fixed on her, horrified. ”He---what?” Re’an bolted to his feet, breaths coming in short bursts. It was as though he was unsure of whether to stay, run, or faint. “Maesar, please, I won’t do it again - I swear I won’t. It was one time - the only one in the three years I’ve been here. I can retake the exam, a harder one even, I don’t care. I’ll do anything, but please, please…”

Part of Tellene thought this moment would be somehow satisfying. It was an important moment - one she could not avoid if she was to make sure she got what she needed. But instead, as she watched Re’an blink back tears, frantic and terrified, all she felt was pity. Maybe even guilt.

Divider, what was happening to her lately? She was losing her touch. It was a good thing she rarely left her studies, or maintaining her reputation would be significantly more difficult.

“What discipline did you plan to join, Re’an?”

The change of subject - possibly even her change in tone - managed to shake him from his panic. Somewhat. “I… I couldn’t decide between the Augists and the Weavers.”

For the first time, Tellene allowed a smile to tinge her lips. “Well... perhaps I can help you reach a decision.”

This time, when he looked at her, there was no more fear. No more self-consciousness. No more dread. There was simply hope, pure and reckless. 

“Y-You would let me join the Weavers?” Re’an swiped his eyes hurriedly with his sleeve, clearly embarrassed. “But Leirah Sonoval---”

---“Has no power over a Maesar’s charge.” She met his gaze. “I will allow him to assign you some texts on academic ethics to appease his wounded pride, but should you accept, that will be the end of the matter.” She paused, then added, “Provided you do not do it again.” Unless instructed.

She gave him a moment to let her offer sink in. It was an extremely rare thing for an accolt to be taken on as a charge, yet alone by a Maesar. In her twelve years as First of the Weavers, Tellene had never even considered taking a charge. Even from among the Leirah, who had petitioned her incessantly for a good ten of them. It was too much work for too little return. Too much like mentoring, which she had gone to great lengths to avoid.

Yet... here she was.

“You won’t regret this,” Re’an said suddenly, as though reading her mind. He seemed to have collected himself, and while he still trembled, there was something else about him now. Something charged and determined, if not to prove himself, then to prove others wrong. That was good - he would have to do a lot of that. No one takes kindly to someone pulling ahead of the pack. Divider, he reminded her of another man she knew. All he needed was red hair and about ten times the stubbornness. “Maesar Tellene,” Re’an continued, “I don’t know how to thank you.”

At that, Tellene snorted, arching a brow. “If you think you will be thanking me for this, you clearly have not been paying attention. I suspect your dormmates have already reallocated your bed and said their farewells to their fallen friend.” When Re’an actually smiled, Tellene struggled against the urge to immediately scare it away. No, that would not do - not if he was to be her charge for the foreseeable future. She could not bear timidity for any length of time. “You will meet me here every morning, directly after first meal. I am beginning your lessons in advanced glyphwork early.”

Re’an nodded frantically, swept along by the moment and all of its promise. 

Then he stopped.

“Um... Maesar?”

“Yes?”

“I have Leirah Pelona’s class after first meal tomorrow.”

“I see.” Tellene leaned back, chair creaking beneath her weight. “Have you read the works of Djenovir?

“Yes, Maesar.”

“And you can recite them?”

“Yes.”

“Then you have already completed the class.” With that, she turned the key in her desk, and the door on the far side of the room clicked open. “Don’t be late.”

[queencatherynerhys]

Stuck With You - White Collar Story

Prologue

Summary: Neal Caffrey had met his fair share of interesting women over the years. Once or twice he thought he had known what love meant. But he learned what being in love was like when he met her. Now he must face a future without her. How will he survive?

A/N: I know I haven’t been non-existent in Tumblr world and TRR fandom. I’ve been working on this story for a while. I was looking through fanfiction stories and realized there's never really been a Neal/Female OC angst story that caught my eye. I just don't know why, so I decided to write one of my own.

 The character's voices might be a little different than you've come to know if you’ve watched the amazing show. If not, I highly recommend it. White Collar is one to binge through these uncertain times we live in. I’ve rewatched it several times now. 

I apologize for any errors. I feel like I didn't capture it very well. But please leave a like or better yet a comment if you like it and I will post the next chapter.

Disclaimer: Characters mostly belong to Jeff Eastin. OCs and the plot concept are mine. 

Peter was in his car heading towards his home to have a quick lunch with his wife. He didn't normally do it since he's always so busy with a case, but he found himself with a rare opportunity of nothing to do for a couple of hours since he delegated all that needed to be taken care of to Neal, Diana, and Jones. He turned on the police scanner in his car. He didn't need to listen to it because he normally doesn't respond to the calls, but he uses it anyway to get an idea of which road to avoid in the case there was traffic accident. He didn't expect the call that came next.

The female voice informed nearby officers to respond on a gunshot female victim on the corner of 2nd Ave. and East 17th street. Peter crinkled his brow upon hearing the street corner. Why does that sound and seem familiar? He thought to himself. Isn't that where Stuyvesant Park is? Stuyvesant Park…that's where she's supposed to meet the buyer…it can't be…he thought as he connected the dots. He immediately turned on his siren. Better to be safe than sorry, right? What's the harm in making sure it's not her on the radio? He thought as he pushed on the accelerator to drive faster. He pulled out his phone from his jacket pocket and called Neal and told him to meet him where on that street corner. He didn't give him a chance to ask what it was about before he hung up and concentrated on getting to his destination fast.

Flashing blue and red lights shone in the distance. Firefighters and EMT rushed about to attend to the emergency while policemen secured the area. Onlookers and bystanders paused from their daily routine to watch the commotion unfolding in front of them. Some of them were whispering to each other. Others had a look of misery and sadness as if knowing that the grim reaper had come to collect another soul.

Peter hurriedly arrived on the scene after being alerted in his radio about the gunshot victim. He flashed his badge to the policeman guarding the yellow tape. He stood aside and lifted the caution strip to let the special agent inside.

Peter's worse scenario was confirmed when he saw that it was her that was lying and bleeding on the ground. He watched with a worried face as the medical team encircled her. He saw as her eyes fluttered weakly towards him. She tried to lift her hand and beckon him.

"Ma'am try to relax, please," one of the EMT workers said.

"Peter," she ignored the advice and groans as she coughed up a bit of blood.

Peter knelt by her and held her reaching hand for comfort and support. He was not one to be squeamish around blood, but how was it possible to have so much around her? Was it his imagination? His guilt? It looked as if she was covered entirely in a pool of red. So bright and accusing that it was all he could see.

"Kell…it's Keller…" she warned. Peter's face fell and became red with anger as he heard what she said. He looked down and shook his head with disbelief as he pursed his lips The bastard was back in his city. He still hadn't forgotten what he did to Elizabeth, and now he'd come after one of their own again. But he couldn't worry about the dastardly criminal right now, his attention needed to be on the young woman in front of him fighting for her life. He saw her open her mouth to say something, but just groaned and coughed up more blood.

"Ryne, save your energy," he pleaded.

"One more thing…Tell Neal…I'm sorry…and that…that I love him…please, Peter…promise me…" she whispered before her fearful, begging eyes closed. He felt her grip weaken. Her breathing became more shallow. The medical team tried to hide their panic looks. They worked even faster to prep her for transport to the nearest hospital. Even though, she was unconscious Peter still felt the need to reply to her wish.

"I promise, Ryne, but you're going to be ok. You're going to be able to say those things to Neal, alright," he told her with feigned encouragement because he didn't know if she really would be able to. He didn't know if she heard him, but he hoped she did. Her wounds looked ghastly. He noticed that it looked like she suffered two gunshot wounds, one on the abdomen and the other on the chest.

The EMTs shooed Peter away so they could rush Ryne to the hospital. He went back and stood to the side trying to manage the shock and the gravity of the situation she was under. Ryne was able to tell him who shot her, but he was more worried about what Neal would do once he found out. Peter glanced at his hands and saw that her blood was smeared all over it. He realized that she was lying on the sidewalk slowly slipping because of him. It was his fault.

At the other side of the block, Neal rounded off the corner casually strolling where Peter told him to meet immediately. Even though his friend sounded rushed on the phone, he didn't bother walking faster as he thought it was just another break on the case they were currently working on. A conman was never late, everyone else was simply early.

Neal's eyes were immediately bombarded by the blinding, flashing lights of the emergency and police vehicles. He saw Peter exit his black government car and rushed to where the commotion was happening. He decided to pick up his pace then as he still had a bit of ways to go to reach the street corner, and now he had to fight the increasing throng of bystanders trying to make their way to the site to catch a glimpse of what was going on.

He saw Peter kneel and hold a woman's hand. Neal tried to look around the growing crowd and immediately stopped in his track when he saw the face of the woman beside his kneeling friend, whose hands he was holding. Everything disappeared around him and all he could see was her face. It was as if the world was in slow motion. He didn't hear the busy sounds of the concrete jungle. All he could hear was the nervous beating of his heart.

His face went ashen with fear and shock he had never known followed by an unbearable stab of pain in his heart. Before he knew or realized it, his feet were leading him in full pace towards where she laid. His panicked blue eyes were only trained on her. He saw the scene in slow motion. He saw her lose consciousness. He saw her once youthful glow become deathly pale or was it his imagination? He ran even faster to get to her in time.

"Let me through…excuse me…get out of my way…" he pushed his way through the crowd until he reached the barricade and a uniformed officer stopped him from entering.

"It's alright. Let him in. He's with me," Peter said behind the policeman. He nodded in response and let Neal in. He arrived just as the EMT lifted Ryne's unconscious body and started rolling her towards the back of the ambulance. He tried to rush by her side. His hand touched her cold skin before Peter grabbed and held him back.

"Ryne! Ryne!" All he could do was shout her name.

"Sir, please, let us do our job and take her to the hospital. If she doesn't receive immediate treatment her chances become very slim," one of the technicians said but he didn't hear any of it on the account of the blood rushing to his head. Neal trashed in the agent's arms, but his grip was stronger. He just stood and watched as the team lifted her gurney onto the back of the truck. As soon as she was inside, Neal heard deathly loud tones coming from the machine attached to her. When a second ago he couldn't hear anything, now all he could hear were the harsh fast beeps of the heart monitor.

"She's going to cardiac arrest. Prep the defibrillator. And get me an oxygen bag just in case," the lady paramedic said to her partner.

Neal watched them work around each other. He couldn't believe what was happening. He thought it couldn't get any worse, but he was wrong. His worse nightmare became a living hell. He saw her body shake uncontrollably until all he could hear was a flat tone signaling the sign of no life.

"No! No! No!" Neal screamed as he struggled in his friend's arms. That was the last thing he heard before the ambulance doors closed. He wanted to touch her soft and warm skin, to see her beautiful eyes open, to hear her heavenly voice. But all he did was watch her be driven and taken further away from him.

Neal didn't realize he was crying until he tasted the salt on his lips. As a world-renowned con artist, he trained himself to always put a mask and never show his true face or show vulnerability to the public, but who cared about that now when the love of his life was slipping away from him. He turned to face Peter and to demand some answers.

"Peter, what the hell happened?" Neal cried breathlessly. When he saw Peter's hands covered with blood, his knees almost buckled out of nausea. He didn't have to ask to know it was hers. Bile threatened to come up, but he quickly took hold of his fear to prevent looking more vulnerable and weaker especially in front of the bystanders watching them, or more specifically, watching him.

Peter led him away towards his car. He didn't answer his question or said anything else he just guided Neal to the passenger seat. When he sat down, Peter made his way towards the drivers side and sped away to the direction of the New York Presbyterian Hospital. They didn't speak during the ride and tension built within the small confine of the vehicle. Peter kept glancing at Neal, but he only stared ahead unblinking.

Not more than fifteen minutes later, they arrived and burst through the door of the emergency room. Neal ran to the reception desk to ask the status for a Ms. Ryne Beneventi. The receptionist typed in her computer and spouted off typical medical jargon.

"She arrived not long ago. They managed to restart her heart. She was rushed to emergency surgery, so it will be a while till you hear anything," she recited almost monotonously as if she didn't care about what happened to her.

Neal controlled his anger and just walked away towards where the vending machines stood. He paced back and forth the tiny hallway. He clenched and unclenched his hands over and over again. He felt so weak and tired. He leaned on the side of one of the machines to rest and shut get away from all of it for a second, but all he could see was her unconscious body. He thought of Ryne and how he would give anything to trade places with her right now.

He couldn't hold his emotions in anymore and he burst into tears as he slid down the side of the machine. He was so close to losing her. He still could. He rested his elbows on his raised knees and covered his tears with his shaking hands.

Peter's heart broke as Neal fell apart. All he could do was watch. He didn't know how to help, but he thought a simple gesture would be a start. He knelt in front of his friend shielding him away from the eyes of people passing by. He reached out and patted Neal's shoulder lightly to let him know he was there to support him.

Neal willed himself to calm down. It took most of his strength, but he managed to hold his tears back in. Even though what he wanted to do was scream at the world, he didn't. Instead he sealed his emotions temporarily and put on a steely face. Not for himself but for the love of his life. He knows she's fighting to come back to him, so will he. He will fight and be strong so when she wakes up, he's there to welcome her. Slowly, he stood up and dusted his Devore suit and faced his friend.

"Peter, what happened?" He asked again this time determined to not be ignored. Peter hesitated to look his friend in the eye, afraid of what might come when he tells him of what he learned. But if he learned anything about Neal over the last several years was that he'd stop at nothing to learn the truth, so he didn't really have a choice but to tell him Ryne's last words.

[canes-n-whiteboardpens]

About

"Hello, sick people and their loved ones! In the interest of saving time and avoiding a lot of boring chitchat later, I'm Doctor Gregory House; you can call me "Greg." I'm one of three doctors staffing this clinic this morning. This ray of sunshine is Doctor Lisa Cuddy. Doctor Cuddy runs this whole hospital, so unfortunately she's much too busy to deal with you. I am a Board certified diagnostician with a double specialty in infectious disease and nephrology. I am also the only doctor currently employed at this clinic who is forced to be here against his will. That is true, isn't it? But not to worry, because for most of you, this job could be done by a monkey with a bottle of Motrin. Speaking of which, if you're particularly annoying, you may see me reach for this: this is Vicodin. It's mine. You can't have any. And no, I do not have a pain management problem, I have a pain problem. But who knows? Maybe I'm wrong. Maybe I'm too stoned to tell. So, who wants me? And who would rather wait for one of the other two guys? Okay. Well, I'll be in Exam Room One if you change your mind."

Indie Dr. Gregory House from House M.D.

Side blog (main is rumpotdeckhand)

OCs, AUs and Crossover/Multiverse welcome

TV Show and Headcanon based (I’m no doctor so please don’t look too deep into it. I try my best though.)

THE MUSE

Full name: Dr: Gregory House

Fandom: House M.D.

Date of Birth: 11th June

Age: around 47 (at the beginning of the show, verse dependant)

Occupation: Doctor, Head of Diagnostic Medicine

FC: Hugh Laurie, obviously

Disability: Five years before the start of the series, House suffered an infarction in his leg while playing golf. By the time Houserealized that he was suffering from muscle death, the leg was in such a bad state that amputation was the recommended course of action. But House rejected the suggestion and instead suggested that he undergo a procedure to bypass circulation around the dead muscle. This resulted in intense pain during the healing process, which nearly resulted in cardiac arrest until House was put into a chemically induced coma. Stacy (his past girlfriend), acting as his medical proxy, decided to go with Dr. Cuddy's suggestion to have the dead muscle surgically removed. Although this most likely saved House's life, it left him with permanent intense pain in his right leg. The wound on his leg still bears an obvious scar.

Personality: House masks many facets of his personality with his sarcasm. He appears and sometimes himself claims to be narcissistic (even though he most likely is not) and appears to dislike most people. House is an atheist and it is implied that he is nihilistic. But despite his cynism, he does care about his colleagues and friends in one way or another, even if he considers them idiots. House would, of course, always deny that he cares. When treating patients he is more interested in solving the case and understanding it than actually helping the patient most of the time. The overall goal is to save his patients lives though. 

THE MUN

Alias: Lee

Age: 20

Time Zone: Central European Time

Languages: German (first language), English (I prefer writing in English)

Currently up to: finishing my apprenticeship

English is not my first language so I apologize for mistakes and grammar errors, I will try to keep it to a minimum. I’m kind of terrible when it comes to starting new conversation but if you look past my initial awkwardness, I’m always up for making new friends. <3

I would like to highlight that my medical knowledge is very limited and that my portrayal may not always be accurate. I do try my best to write a believable version of House and occasionally the team, just keep that in mind. 

[crossroadsimagine]

🎐1/4 Hi! Can I please ask for a halloween matchup with a male from karnveal for my OC? She has straight long black hair, hime cut, very pale skin tone, red eyes, 5'2, slender build, skin is always cold. Suffers from insomnia. She’s stoic, blunt, can come across as abrasive because of her honesty, she is a realist, determined, strong, humble, intelligent and educated, an introvert. sarcastic and slightly sadistic with dry&dark humour.

🎃 Happy Halloween 🎃

👻 Matched with Gareki

Really doesn’t seem all that interested in you at first especially not in a romantic way, he can almost seem a little tsundere in way because he can come off as rather cold, distant and even kind of rude at times, but at other times he can seem curious about you and gentle and even rather loving with you from time to time. It can be a little confusing on whether he likes you or not but over time he can make it a little more obvious, but it will take him some time to actually fall for you and then to even realize and acknowledge that he actually has feelings for you. 

This will likely take months for him to fall for you, realize it, acknowledge it and decide to act on it and he can kind of bounce back and forth on whether he should tell you how he feels or not. When he does decide to go through with it, he’ll want to get you alone but the exact place can depend on where the two of you are when he feels like telling you, he just won’t want any attention or others to be around. 

He will be noticeably nervous and uncomfortable which can make you wonder if something is seriously wrong, but will manage to explain his feelings to some degree and ask you out though it may be more like hinting at it rather than being straight forward about it. But once the two of you do start dating he can still be kind of shy about the whole thing and doesn’t really want to make the relationship public and tell everyone, at least not away but he’s not going to get mad if people happen to find out or if you tell someone, he may seem a little annoyed depending on who you tell and if he feels like its too soon but otherwise doesn’t really care. 

He is very level headed and calm though he can have a quick temper at times but really only when he’s being pressured or pestered to do something or told what to do. You are really understanding, patient though extremely insecure but despite that you do come across as pretty confident, which he’s also rather insecure but won’t really like to admit it to anyone. 

He can seem very guarded because he does have walls up and won’t like letting people past them, this means it will take some time for him to start letting down his guard around you and really letting you in and opening up to you. But you are patient and he’s patient with you as well and won’t even ask for you to answer certain questions or pressure you to open up he lets you open up to him on your own because that’s how he’ll want you to treat him. 

He doesn’t mind crowds or busy areas but can dislike them if he’s trying to do something with you like going to an amusement park or a festival, but he won’t make you go anywhere busy or crowded because he knows you don’t like large crowds. If you would prefer to be at home or somewhere the two of you can be alone, he’s fine with that as well, he really doesn’t need to spend time with you in a fancy way or doing anything special. 

You can be rather scary when you get angry and so can he so if the two of you do happen to disagree or end up in an argument it can be pretty severe, but he also won’t dwell on arguments but he will need a cool down period where he’ll stay away from you for a few hours or so and calm down before kind of apologizing and making up with you. He can be affectionate but he does not care for PDA and can be really embarrassed by it but tries his best to hide it, he will highly prefer to be affectionate when the two of you are alone but can occasionally put up with holding hands in public. 

He doesn’t like to instigate affection too often or at least he doesn’t like to be the only one instigating things, you’ll need to instigate some hugs or cuddles with him too now and then otherwise he’ll feel like he’s forcing you to be affectionate with him. When he is affectionate with you he likes to cuddle with you facing each other when the two of you are in bed, but likes for you to sit in front of him with your back to his chest to cuddle you when the two of you are sitting or hanging out doing other things like watching movies. 

You do suffer from insomnia which he is very understanding about and will do what he can to help you, even staying up with you or cuddling with you. He shows a bit of curiosity with some of your hobbies and interests, he does enjoy reading too so he can be interested in what you are reading or what books have been your favorites, he’ll always be open to recommendations though he typically prefers to read books where he can learn things rather than just reading fantasy or fictional books. 

He’ll be curious about what you are drawing any time you have a sketch book out but really won’t press to see what you’re drawing. You like growing plants and flowers which he can take note of and may even gift you live plants and flowers for gifts, ones that you don’t have yet. He enjoys talking with you and spending time with you rather casually, sitting outside watching the stars and talking about your day, things you’re passionate about or plans for the future he’ll love everything about it. 

When it comes to Halloween he acts very uninterested and will never seem excited or enthusiastic about the holiday or any holiday really, he will practically refuse to dress up in a costume for Halloween but if you or others really push him to he can cave in and do it but can seem annoyed about it the entire time. He will not be interested in matching costumes and neither are you so it’s really not going to happen, after all he will really try not to wear any costume. 

You are willing to go to Halloween parties but aren’t crazy about them and neither is he, both of you are far more comfortable with hanging out with friends and watching horror movies and eating snacks. He’s not crazy about decorations for Halloween but doesn’t complain about them if you want to decorate things, he is rather disinterested in everything about Halloween or any holiday but at the same time likes to be included and is rather easy going about all of it. 

Over all he is very caring, supportive and does whatever he can to keep you safe, he does struggle to show you how he feels about you and even more to tell you how he feels about you. But he really does care about you and will put you first doing whatever he can to help you and be there for you through anything, he is very protective and treats you as an equal to be partners with him to overcome anything that comes at the two of you.

👻 Headcanons between you two

🎃 Likes listening to you play piano if you’ll play for him though he wants to he can have a hard time complimenting you for your talents or even when he thinks you look nice, which can lead to some awkward like compliments at times, other times he can praise you in a more genuine fashion.

🎃 Acts like he doesn’t really care about Halloween but can easily become wrapped up into it and that doesn’t mean he’s enthusiastic about it, but he likes to be involved in things especially when others are doing things it’ll pique his interest like if you are making Halloween snacks or carving pumpkins he’ll seem disinterested but wants to be invited.

🎃 Really caught off guard if you do anything for him or show him a lot of kindness, things like cooking for him, giving him any kind of gift, drawing him something anything. But he does really appreciate anything you do for him it’s just that he can be surprised by your kindness and isn’t use to people doing things for him.

🎃 Likes eating candy and sweets around Halloween but doesn’t really life for anyone to know how much he likes it so he can act bored or disinterested. But will take candy or sweets when no one is looking, keeping a pocket full of candy.

[r-ahh-mi]

He // Chapter 1

Prompt II Chapter 2

Rami Malek x OC(Beth)

A/N: Here is the first official chapter of ‘He’ which is going to be a Rami Malek x OC fic. I have included the links above to two other pieces of writing that go along with this story line - read them if you feel so inclined to do so, which i highly recommend so you can know a bit about the direction this story is taking. Also, although some portions of this fic will depict things that actually happened, the timeline will not be the same as the original time the events took place. Lastly, there will be some flashbacks all through out this story, so the dashes symbolize the beginning and end of flashback. Hope you enjoy & I would adore your feedback xx

Warnings: None

Word Count: 2.3k

I’ll start off by saying that I don’t blame him..at least not entirely. I understand he was simply going after his dream and he had to make sacrifices in doing that - truly, I get it. However, no matter how much I can understand where he was coming from, it still hurts. It hurts that he sent a simple text–no, he had his assistant text me to tell me that me and him could no longer be together. So many fucking years together and he can’t even muster up enough balls to tell me that he doesn’t want me anymore, that he doesn’t love me anymore. It was terribly out of character for him, which only made this worse. Rami was never one to do a thing as shady and unpredictable as that. 

People always say you see ‘red flags’ or early signs of a disaster about to strike, but that wasn’t the case with us. We were fine, better than fine, we were amazing. We talked about getting married, having children, where we would want to live when it came time to settle down and enjoy life. Never, ever did it occur to me that Rami would abruptly break up with me when he was away filming the movie that would crank his stardom from a average number to being one of the top male actors in the business. 

I stood by him when he was no one to everyone, except to me. To me he was everything. Fuck, he still is my everything.

I guess that’s why I haven’t even thought about anyone romantically since he broke things off. It was the furthest thing from my mind to capture anothers heart like I had thought i’d captured his and, although, I knew at one point he loved me like I loved him, he just didn’t love me anymore. Well…I guess now I wasn’t so sure.

See, Rami was one to fall head first into a relationship and that’s something I could admire him for. He was never really afraid to show someone his heart and who he was; never ever bashful in expressing his feelings and when he knew he loved me he told me right away, without hesitation, despite my own apprehensions about it all. He let me take my time and gradually, my heavy stone wall was broken by this boy who had stumbled into the wrong dorm room one fateful Saturday night after he got drunk off of cheap beer.

I was so annoyed when he had loudly barged into my room and plopped down directly on top of my once sleeping form, now I couldn’t be more grateful that he had accidentally gone to the wrong floor of that old stuffy dormitory. We were crazy back then, we really were. I felt so fearless and he was the one who made me feel that way, which was both scary and intriguing that another could make me feel such a way about life when I was anything but carefree, but with Rami, it was easy. Except now things were different. Everything was the opposite of easy; everything was complicated, really, really complicated.

Of course, I could only really speak on my experience of being apart from him and pretending he never existed and that we never existed. I remember how hard it was to not call him whenever I needed someone, he was always the person that I went to with any issue I had, but not anymore….well, except for last night. My head was still dizzy and tired and at times I was entirely positive I was making the entire evening, of him phoning me, up. However, a quick glance through my recent received texts was convincing, and if that wasn’t enough, my call history was sure to smash it into my brain that it happened.

I’m sure you’re wondering what the call was about and even i’m not entirely sure. It was full of sleepy Rami voice which I had missed dearly, but even more importantly I could hear him crying. That hurt, it really fucking hurt, especially knowing that I wasn’t there to give him whatever he was needing in that very moment, but I had to remind myself that I would have been right next to him had it not been for his actions and his wishes. So, guilt was quickly evaded from my memory and worry soon began to take over and it would never leave, i still felt it right this very moment.

He was vague. Extremely vague to me as he expressed his need to just see me. Even now, a mere night’s worth of sleep, and my pulse was speeding up just thinking about him wanting to see me again. It was just too shocking to process and I wasn’t even sure if I had answered him or not, but all I knew is that he texted me my plane ticket information early this morning, that I suppose he had booked last night and now I was in some over priced Uber to JFK airport headed for LAX.

The shaking was bad, the anxiety was even worse, and I had no clue why I had let myself agree to this (if i even had because, again, i don’t recall a lot of what i said during the conversation), but yet I wasn’t protesting to my driver to pull over. Not to mention, I never once thought about just ignoring the plane ticket purchased and letting that be my revenge for him breaking my heart the way he did.

In fact, I’m scolding myself this very moment for not even letting that thought cross my mind earlier..that would’ve made everything so much easier..I could’ve just continued on working my job and eating the same take out twice a week and running around the same park every morning and wallowing around in self pity on the weekend when I wasn’t attempting to be social with my friends.

Who was I kidding, it wouldn’t have been the same. The second I answered his phone call I knew that I wouldn’t be okay, at least not fully and when i chose to date him, I knew I was letting in this incredible human being that would forever leave a lasting impression on me, I just didn’t know, way back then, that that impression may not have been the kindest to my heart no matter how much I wanted the thought of ‘us’ to be a good thing in my mind. Again, he made that decision though, not me..so I shouldn’t feel any blame for it.

Funny how we repeat things to ourselves in order for them to sink into our brains isn’t it? Not like it ever truly works anyways.

-

I’d never experienced a plane ride quite like that. The couple of hours it took for me to get from one part of the country to the next felt as though a full twenty-four hours had gone by and I wasn’t sure what I was more tired of; physical exhaustion or mental exhaustion. My leg was still twitching, i’m going to assume, because of the hours upon hours it had been bouncing up and down due to the constant stream of anxiety that was running like a current through my body. Not to mention, my nausea due to my motion sickness that never failed to pop up every time the plane landed.

However, despite the numbness in my leg and the frazzled shock coursing through my blood, I kept persisting as if my life depended on it as I walked through the familiar airport. The smell of the various food vendors and even the plainly colored walls and floors all made me smile and think back to the various trips I had made here to visit Rami before we both decided to move to LA together once we had both graduated college so many years ago.

So much money was spent on me going to see Rami at least once a month, but I never dreaded it. In fact, I much preferred California to my small hometown in Indiana, so I didn’t mind flying out to see him, especially if it meant him getting to show me everything he grew up seeing and doing and loving. Not to mention me and his family had gotten very close since my first visit, Christmas my sophomore year of college, when me and Rami were just friends. California started to feel more like a home to me more than shitty Indiana ever did, which is why I never hesitated when Rami brought up the thought of us potentially moving in with one another in LA. 

- -

“So I was thinking..”

“Spit it out Rami, you’ve only repeated that exact phrase three times now.”

As I balanced the phone between my shoulder and cheek, I couldn’t help but hope he was finally asking me the words i’d been dying to hear. After a year of not living near each other, I was half tempted to move myself out to LA all on my own and surprise him. Our relationship was an open one and I was positive he wouldn’t have minded that I moved both to be near him and to further my career as an actress. Lord knows Indiana wasn’t doing me any favors in either of those departments. 

“...I was thinking..that you should move out here.”

I couldn’t help but sigh happily at his confession, “You know I would love that.”

“Then why haven’t you moved here yet? Do you enjoy making me suffer and have to live with only having contact with you from a phone.”

“Hey! I fly out as often as my paycheck allows it.”

“I know baby..”, His voice was so tender and thoughtful, it made me feel a little less obsessive as I had already started throwing a few of my belongings into a suitcase.

“So, when should I plan to leave?”

It was silent for a moment until Rami suggested me coming down to visit so we could both look at apartments together, just to ensure this was 1000% something that we both were prepared and wanting to do. Although, I already knew I was ready. Honestly, I never even needed to go see the semi-shitty apartment we were about to live in for the next 5 years because I would move anywhere and live anywhere as long as it meant I could be near him.

You could definitely say I was whipped and i’d proudly admit that.

- -

Suddenly, the airport began to seem terribly overcrowded with both people coming and going and I knew I had to be close to where Rami had told me to look for the driver.

I obeyed every single one of Rami’s requests - off the plane, head for a selected Terminal, and then look for a man holding a sign with his last name on it near the main exit doors.

I still wasn’t adjusted to the fact that Rami had afforded a plane ticket and a driver just for me. Not too mention my plane ticket was one of 1st class, not an easily afforded privilege for someone like me, but I had to remember, Rami wasn’t the Rami I knew anymore. He was Rami Malek, a multiple award winning actor; something I was both proud and jealous of, I had to admit, but I saw this coming. In college, there was no denying the talent I saw the very first I watched him give a monologue in front of our class. Everyone in the auditorium styled classroom had goosebumps, I was positive, and we all saw him as competition, except for me.

Of course, down the road we both engaged in some slight competition with who could get the best roles in plays and who would get the best acting gig right outside of college, but when I first witnessed his acting capabilities, I was more curious than anything. Curious to get to know him and speak with him; just to pick at his brain sounded terribly ideal to me and engaging in a some other activities didn’t sound half bad either..

My shoulder suddenly collided with someone, much to my surprise, dragging me from my trip down memory lane to staring at the man in front of me wearing aviator sunglasses and holding a white board in his hand. I examined the man to make sure he was alright, that is until I saw the words ‘Malek’ scribbled on the object in his hands. 

Just seeing his last name written out gave me a pitiful feeling in my stomach and I wasn’t able to blame it on the motion sickness now that my feet were firmly planted on the ground.

“Uhm..are you the driver for Malek?”

My mouth stuttered slightly as I spoke his last name, proving saying anything relatively close to his full name would be difficult. I’ll need to make a mental note of that later before I embarrass myself any more than I already have...

The mystery man gave me a brief nod, “Are you Mrs. Malek?”

I must’ve looked like a purely insane individual as I just stared at him, dough eyed and trying to maintain brain function as my stutters returned.

“I--I’m not--No you see we are not--”

“Or are you just another one of his girls?”

And with a snap of invisible fingers, my mood shifted from frazzled to angered, but I shouldn’t have been shocked, I really shouldn’t have been. Rami was no longer the baby faced young man I grew to love, he was a much older, much more matured male who had grown out of his baby weight and into a muscular, beautifully structured bachelor that, i’m sure, every woman in Hollywood was dying to fall for, or rather get on their knee’s for.

“I’m definitely not one of his girls”, I retorted with possibly too much annoyance as the driver silently turned around and began walking towards the exit. Supposing I was meant to follow him, I got hot on his heels as he led the way out of the large main double doors.

No turning back now.

-

Tag List: @frami-mercury-malek @hazeleyedbeth @sassystrawberryk @amcquivey @cleopatra-knowles @lovelymalekk @mezzomercury

If you’d like to be added to the tag list for this serious, or to be on my permanent tag list, let me know and I will gladly add you xx

[hurt-care]

Inspired by @finnpeach‘s list of historical prompts:  - Someone sending a letter to their sf lover describing their recent cold/allergies in wonderful detail, such as how badly the pollen affects them on the first day of spring or how messy their sneezes when they’ve come down with a cold This is featuring my OCs Francis and Caroline. She isn't necessarily a SF, but he’d definitely write this to her. Enjoy :)  - Caroline, My dearest love – I cannot wait to be back with you. I have made my arrangements for the train on Saturday next but until then I fear I will be in misery waiting to get back to you. The hay-asthma season has come early this year and I am already heavily afflicted. Two weeks I woke with my head so full that I was certain it would burst. I spent the day in bed with hot rags on my face trying to relieve the discomfort and could not make use of my handkerchief because my nasal passages were too fully blocked to do so without intense pain. My physician came and diagnosed an infection of the nasal passages and gave me a tincture to snort which triggered the most painful sneezes. I could scarcely get a breath through my nose and the sneezes were so clogged and blocked that I thought I might damage my ears from the force. The physician recommended that I spend a day at the Turkish bathhouse and so I had my driver take me there. Thankfully the persons working have seen such afflictions before and allowed me a private room with a hot stove burning in the corner and filling the room with a most comforting steam. I reclined and had my hair washed and my head draped with hot towels and by the time I left, I was feeling much relieved by the heat and my breathing was eased somewhat. After a restless night where the pain was lessened only by a dose of laudanum, I returned for a second day of treatments and by the third day I was mostly recovered.

Friday last saw the first bad flare of my hay-asthma and I was very grateful for the presence of my business associate, Mr. March. I was at the office when it started and it came on quite suddenly, triggered by the smoke from a building that caught fire two blocks away. I found myself prostrate over my desk chair, struggling for air, while Mr. March went about sealing up the room and sending a clerk to get some hot water to prepare my breathing treatment. Mr. March was able to administer my steam medication with my garbled instructions and he stayed with me in the office well into the night. I was too frightened to go outside for fear of worsening the attack, so he graciously helped me to get comfortable in a arm chair, which allowed me some brief sleep. By morning, the smoke had thinned somewhat and I made my escape back to my apartment aided by a wet handkerchief over my nose and mouth. It was another two days before I could get a full, unimpeded breath. It was then that I began to get my affairs in order so that I could make my escape to Plymouth with haste. I am grateful that I have done so, as my sneezing season has begun in earnest and I am suffering most terribly. Mr. March commented that I might as well get on the earlier train given that I'm unable to do much of anything thanks to the crippling sneezing attacks and my eyes, which are so swollen and sensitive that I've taken to administering hourly compresses for some relief. I spent most of yesterday in my bedroom completely overwhelmed by an attack and unable to see well enough through my steaming eyes to get any work done. I composed one letter to a business partner but upon inspection, the ink was smeared where I'd sneezed and dragged the pen too sharply and several of the words were unintelligible from the shaky handwriting. I threw the note into the bin and had to dictate it between sneezes to a servant instead. 

My nose is so badly chapped and raw now that I'm embarrassed to be seen. My physician came again today to offer some more tinctures and apply a new ointment to my nose, but it was very painful and I think most of it has since come off from the frequent administrations of my handkerchiefs, which are now in such constant use that my laundry-woman must wash the lot of them twice a week to keep up with my poor nose. I have ordered two dozen new ones to be embroidered with my monogram and they'll be shipped directly to your home for my summer respite. If you'd be so kind to have them sent to my rooms, I would greatly appreciate it.

As you might have guessed, today my affliction has settled enough to give me the opportunity to write. I had an inhalation of belladona an hour ago which helped to relieve my poor breathing and clear my nose enough to give me great relief. After I finish this letter to you, I will try to get a few hours of sleep since my nights have been so marked by waking to fits of asthma and sneezing that I have scared slept a full night all month.I miss you terribly and long for the comfort of your presence and your sweet attentions to my wretched state. I know the healing air of Plymouth will be a great relief but the most healing cure is always you.

With affection,

Your Francis

[notwritinganyflufftoday]

OC tober writing challenge: Day 6

Bitter | Dr. Micha “Moo” Pollock | 1622 words

@oc-growth-and-development @baeyungmin

Everyone was well aware that on Monday mornings, one was best to stay out of the way of Head Nurse Gretchen, with her greying hair and permanent scowl. And if you did encounter her, you would best be polite and obedient and then she usually went easy on you. Unless your name was Doctor Micha Pollock.

Doctor Micha, or Dr. Moo as most of the colleagues had started calling them, was taking a well-deserved tea break after a fearful patient had begged and pleaded with them to stay here, instead of bracing the terrors of the skies. It wouldn't have been much of a problem if it were a simple patient, but it was a bloody seasoned war veteran turned sky-captain. The man had cried like a baby, loud and obnoxious. And while Dr. Moo knew crying could be liberating and healing, from their studies and experiences working at Magdalene's, it was pitiful. Moo let the session go on for an extra twenty minutes, free of charge, even knowing that it could get them into trouble. After the captain had taken control of his sniffles. He had straightened up, his face stony and unreadable and thanked Moo with a firm handshake. No trace left of the fearful man who had sat before them moments earlier.

While Moo was slowly drinking their tea and nibbling on one of the biscuits on the plate in the middle of the coffee table, the purple curtain dividing the staff room from the rest of the House opened and closed. Head Nurse Gretchen and Nurse Lucy walked in, probably also on break.

Gretchen looked disgruntled, but not shocked to see them here.

"Tell me, Pollock, how come you're on break when no one else is?" Out of all the nurses and doctors in Magdalene's, Moo was among the most hardworking of the bunch, not that Head Nurse Gretchen would ever praise them for it.

Dr. Moo was out of their seat in an instant and lowered their head, focusing their gaze on the tiled floor. They apologized, "I'm very sorry, ma'am. It won't happen again."

"It better not." Head Nurse Gretchen spoke up in a commandeering tone and added, "There's a new patient waiting for care in the entry hall, see to him pronto." And when Dr. Moo hesitated too much to her liking, she barked, "Get moving, Pollock."

"Yes, ma'am." Dr. Moo figured the best way to deal with Head Nurse Gretchen was to keep their head low and respect her even if they didn't get respect in return.

It took approximately five minutes to walk from the break room to the reception, where the receptionist Clement waved them over. "I thought you were on your break, Moo?" With only one look, Clement knew what had happened, "Gretchen, eh? Bloody tyrant she is."

"But er..." He continued, "What are you doing here?"

"The new patient?"

"Gretchen can't put him under your care, you're... and no offence to you, a rookie." Clement sighed, "And this patient has been trouble from the second he was brought in. I've already been busy preparing a file for him." He handed the file over to Moo, who read through the information diagonally.

Last name: Brewer Name: Jonah Brought in at 9:51 Monday morning, 6th of September 1907, by Spencer Tollemache, who found him afloat in the sky. Violent and physically aggressive behaviour towards staff and himself, incessant rambling, partial blindness

Diagnosis: Sky-madness

"What's the recommended treatment?" Dr. Moo asked after not finding that mentioned in the file. When Clement frowned behind his thick glasses, Moo rephrased their question, "Which person has he requested to be treated by?"

"That-that's the thing..." Clement pursed his lips, "He hasn't."

Moo stood frozen at the reception desk for a while, eventually they spoke, "Well, so be it. I need to take care of this patient, Clement."

"Moo, please, at least discuss it with your mentor first." Clement pleaded and if he could, he probably would've taken the file out of their hands, but Moo was already approaching the treatment rooms, ignoring their friend's protests behind them.

When Dr. Moo entered the room, the first thing they noticed was that the man, sat in the corner of the room on a less than comfortable chair, didn't even look up at their arrival. His gaze was fixed to a single point on the floor, he was clawing at his arms and he had a sickly pale complexion. Moo sat down in a chair opposite of him and grabbed a pen out of their lab coat.

Without a different personality to inhabit or a script to follow, Moo was a bit out of their depth, but began the session regardless in a professional manner. "Mr. Brewer, I am Dr. Micha Pollock and I'm here to alleviate your distress."

The man didn't respond, which eased Moo's worries that he might become violent towards them, but a violent patient was something they could work with. An unresponsive patient was a bit more tricky.

"What brought you here, Mr. Brewer?" Dr. Moo asked and when that question went unanswered and the man still acted like he didn't hear a word of what they had said, Moo changed tactics.

"If I may be blunt, Jonah... is it okay if I call you Jonah?" Moo tested and inwardly celebrated a small victory when the man grunted. A grunt was better than nothing. "Okay, Jonah, why didn't you request for someone to comfort you? This is after all the House of Small Comfort."

"All your small comfort  is good for is lying to people and giving them a fake sense of security." The man replied darkly, "Darkness is growing stronger every day and I'm... I'm scared, I'm scared, scared, scared-" The man trailed off, muttering to himself and scratched higher up his arms, drawing blood.

Moo had to put a stop to it, but how?

They spoke loud and clear to reach Jonah's ears even through his murmurs. "Jonah, isn't this even more of a reason to seek help? You're scared and that's understandable-"

"You don't understand anything!" He shouted and looked up. For a second their eyes met and Moo saw a frightened and tired young man. He continued a lot more subdued, "No matter who you are or who you pretend to be Dr. Pollock-"

"Please, call me Moo." They interrupted before they could think twice over what they've done. It was against the rules to give your name to a patient, but if they wanted to be real with Jonah, then there was no other option.

Jonah looked taken aback, but resumed where he had left off, "Dr. Moo, you will never understand what I've been through. No one can, thus no one can offer me comfort."

"That is a bleak outlook on life." Moo commented, getting a pained grimace as a reply. "And a lonely one." They continued.

Moo wanted to approach him, give him a hug, caress his face, all the things they had learned to do in the treatment for loneliness, a treatment this man certainly needed. Failing that, they decided on giving him comforting words, "Loneliness is something we all suffer from, especially in this day and age where people no longer care for one another."

"I don't need you to lecture me on loneliness." Jonah spat the words out between gritted teeth and Moo shrank back in horror as the man started sobbing, but he didn't look sad, he looked enraged. "I was part of a crew, on the Rising Xanthium. We were like brothers, but the bloody bastards threw me overboard at the first sign of..." At this, he pointed to his temple, "madness. I drifted longer than a week, in the bitter, cold, endless sky. I thought that was the end."

Moo trembled unconsciously.

"So, Dr. Moo, I don't think an adorable, innocent, little thing like you can comfort me." Jonah snarled and Moo shot up from their seat and ran out of the room as fast as they could. They passed by Clement, who asked them what happened in concern.

Moo arrived at their mentor, Dr. Roland's office and knocked twice before coming in.

"Micha, welcome... oh dear, sit down and have some tea." Dr. Roland said from behind his desk, busying himself with preparing tea for the both of them.

Moo slumped down in the plush chair and put their head in their hands. "I'm a rubbish doctor." They groaned from behind their hands.

"Nonsense. You are one of the most qualified doctors we've had in years." Roland answered, "I've heard from Clement you decided to treat a patient who didn't make a request."

"I did." Moo lowered their hands and said, "I got orders from Head Nurse Gretchen to deal with him."

They heard Roland cuss under his breath and he shook his head, "That woman is incorrigibly bitter. Promise me, you'll never end up like her."

"And stay adorable and innocent?" Moo scowled, "Maybe Nurse Gretchen is right."

Dr. Roland's thick eyebrows raised higher towards his hairline and he commented, "Those were words I never expected to come out of anyone's mouth, least of all you."

"She uses bitterness as her strength and she thrives on misery, maybe in our line of work that's the only way."

"I had hoped I taught you better than that." Roland sighed and Moo felt a pang of shame. They were supposed to make their mentor proud, not do whatever this was. "In our line of work, you need a strong, courageous heart. Bitterness only weakens it. Utilise your kindness and compassion as your sword and shield and don't give up on your patient."

Moo nodded and accepted the advice and the hot cup of tea.

[diamondnokouzai]

oc master post for the earlier anon

long under the cut

BERNARD

bernard is the fourth child (2x twins) of a farmer.. his father and twin sister died in a hunting accident when he was three,

the first set of twins were aasimar, and 6 years older than bernard and his twin sister georgia. they both left when bernard was 6, but not before teaching him celestial

so he grew up with only his mother. his mother went through a lot of stuff after that, which resulted in, in order,

half-elf triplets (two girls and a boy) (misky (f) tayze (f) and beauregard (m))

a gold dragonborn foster child (cotalla)

a half-drow son (drixben)

tiefling twins (a girl and a boy) (diana (f) and johann (m))

a halfling stepchild (jessie, but theyre the same age as the triplets)

a half-orc daughter (tarora)

these kids didnt start coming around until bernard was six. so bernard’s mom (molly) had nine children over the course of nine and a half years, and then when bernard is sixteen, his mother dies because of a terrible illness. so now heres bernard, who had a steady boyfriend, and now bernard has nine children, all under the age of ten, two are under the age of five, and he just. he cant be dating right now. so instead, he joins the guards of sarenrae (essentially the army, bc bernard’s country is devoted to sarenrae) because the guards get a good pay and their children get a good education

(the thing is, though, bernard’s mother died surrounded by all of her children except for bernard, who only stepped away for a minute to get her a glass of water and she died while he was gone, and thats. thats the worst thing that’s ever happened to bernard)

so youve got bernard, who is quite possibly the kindest, sweetest guy in the world, hes a paladin of sarenrae, and every week he drags in his nine siblings to services, usually carrying five or six of them with the other three or four on toddler leashes so they dont wander off.

so bernard is just, doing the best he can, and five years after he joins the guard, he gets called away to go to war. hes got nine kids to take care of, only three are old enough to take care of the others, but misky, tayze, and beauregard are all much less trustworthy than bernard. they arent bad kids, by any mean, because they were raised by molly, who was the nicest woman in the world, and bernard, who is the nicest man in the world, so these are pretty nice kids. in game theyre considered to be chaotic good, but like. misky and beauregard arent above pickpocketing to survive, and tayze will only do things for his family.

bernard still goes, because bernard believes in sarenrae and believes in fighting the good fight. so he leaves the farm in the hands of the triplets and jessie, and after giving every single one of his kids a hug and a kiss, he goes out to fight the war. hes gone for three years.

when he comes back, tayze and misky are gone. all that beau and jessie will tell him is that the two of them are out on the ocean

(tayze and misky are pirates. they have shifted to chaotic evil and chaotic neutral, respectively. they make a good profit, and bernard’s hometown is fairly far inland, so they arent at great risk when they go home to visit, which they do once a year. they take tarora and the twins on a tour of the ship once and let them pretend to be part of the navy of sarenrae, even though the ship is very obviously a pirate ship.)

so now bernard is twenty-four, beau and jessie are eighteen. beau is terrible at farming, and he really doesnt like to do it, so beau moves to the middle of the nearest city and joins the thieves guild there. he does it on the DL tho bc bernard does not, precisely, approve of thievery. he tells bernard that he studies from the school of summoning (bc he summons things from other peoples pockets into his hands, and bc he makes things disappear) so bernard is very proud of beau. beau is proud of himself too, but he keeps lying about being a thief because bernard’s Disappointed look is a terrible thing to suffer. beau also has some fun with bands of roving thieves that try to attack the farm, because beau can use a scimitar like no ones business

jessie goes kind of the complete opposite direction. they leave the farm and head into the nearby woods, and they keep going north. they get to the northernmost part of the continent, and they just start. living there. so they become an ice druid, and they also get a moose companion that they name afeeha. jessie comes back south every so often, shows tarora and the twins how he can polymorph into a snowy owl. bernard is VERY proud of jessie for following his heart, and jessie is all ‘yes yes thank you, how are tayze misky and beau?’ because he is the ONLY one that knows everybodys secrets and he uses that to his distinct advantage

cotalla is fifteen at this point, and they go to a nearby city (not a big city or anything) and they join the bardic college there. they are very good at singing and playing the lute and other string instruments, but cannot play a wind instrument for the life of them. so cotalla becomes a bard of kord (the fightin’ god) and essentially, what that entails is cotalla sings a shitload of battle songs with the guards of sarenrae, and then gets nasty when the fighting gets to them. bernard is SO proud of cotalla, because cotalla kiiiiiiiiind of technically joined the military? and he really loves the guards of sarenrae, who helped give all his siblings basic education, so hes real proud that cotalla joined.

drixben, at this point, is thirteen, which is a bit young, honestly, for him to go to any college. he doesnt, really, actually, want to do much of anything. he visits beau sometimes, who is lying to everyone about being a wizard, so beau invites his warlock gf and bf over and lets them teach drixben about magic. this is a terrible idea, actually, because drixben kiiiiiiiind of sort of becomes a warlock. which, if you done know, is, like, he made a contract with an ancient bestial terror.

so beau and drixben are like, ‘okay, this is a Secret From Bernard’ (its mostly beau because he kind of ruined drixben, even though bernard would still love both of them) so now drixben has warlock powers but he doesnt really ever use them. so now drixben is kind of having. problems. with his powers.

diana and johann (yo-hahn, yes these two and bernard are the only ones in the world with normal names) are nine years old. so they dont do much. u know. they still have to go with bernard wherever he goes bc those two would definitely burn down the house if left alone

tarora is eight years old, and is kind of in the same boat as the twins. the thing everyone asks when they come back to visit bernard is ‘where are tarora and the twins’. at this point its tarora-and-the-twins as one word, and, honestly neither tarora nor the twins like that.

so you have

tayze, chaotic evil half-elf pirate (who loves her big brother to death)

misky, chaotic neutral half-elf pirate (who loves her brother but also is less mean than her sister)

beauregard, chaotic good half-elf rogue

jessie, true neutral halfling ice druid

cotalla, chaotic good dragonborn bard

drixben, neutral good half-drow warlock

diana, ??? tiefling

johann, ??? tiefling

tarora, ??? half-orc

bernard is very satisfied with his life. however, its at this point that the current king, who was a SUPER good dude, dies and gets replaced. not by his daughter, who was a super awesome girl, but by his sister in law, who is not so phenomenal. she kind of ruins the country, and the guards of sarenrae TECHNICALLY serve the goddess sarenrae, so theyre like, i will not serve you. and the new queen is like, i will not force you. and then she takes their families captive and is like, but i recommend you do because otherwise your families will die.

the queen does not manage to nab all nine of bernard’s siblings. she does nab tarora, diana, johann, and drixben, whereas jessie is too much trouble to get, beau is too damned sneaky, misky and tayze are already technically wanted by the crown (but they use stage names, at first because they didnt want bernard to know about how bad they were being, but now theyre like ‘yes!! we knew this would happen we are so smart’), cotalla is actually in a foreign country fighting a war, and then when the war is over, theyre like ‘no thanks’ and they just. dont come back.

so bernard leaves the farm. he puts his ex in charge and now hes traveling the country,  searching for his family. hes no longer part of the guards of sarenrae, but he still considers himself a paladin, except he hates the government.

so anyway thats bernard and i love him.

ZYRICK

zyrick is a huma bard and he is 19. he was sold by his human noble grandfather (one Ryxal Corriendone) at the age of two in order for the corriendone family to escape their debts. however, zyrick’s twin sister zyra (zigh-ra vs zee-rick) was kept with her family. zyrick was sold to the master of a massive slave gladiator pit, known as Mr. Zalfroc. zyrick first became eligible for the fights at the age of 10, but managed to avoid the worst opponents by means of his skill with musical instruments. zyrick thus spent the majority of his time in the pits as a side attraction rather than a fighter, although he did not completely escape from the fights.

at the age of 17, zyrick finally ran away from the pits and mr. zalfroc in an effort to both find his family and to. well. yknow. escape the fucking gladiator pits.

after spending 15 years in an underground gladiator arena, zyrick kinda sorta hates nobles with all the hate in his body. both because mr. zalfroc constantly reminded him of what his family did, and also because of what he saw of nobles in the pits. he works REALLY REALLY hard to move past it though, because he wants to meet his family and he wants to know whats up with them and to tell them that he forgives them.

but he doesnt really know? where it is? and so he just wanders around, staying far away from mr. zalfroc’s circle of influence, and then some girl (who looks too much like him) runs up to him, with a bunch of her allies with her because shes got her own adventuring party, and she explains that she is zyra corriendone the second and that hes her twin brother, and he kinda gets tugged along with this girl to the corriendone estate, and its kind of a spooky affair, with zyra the second and zra the first (their mother) and ryxal corriendone, and their mother is a little lost after the trauma of losing her son, and ryxal is a little lost because hes old, but they both come into it when zyrick enters the estate.

and zyra i explains that hes her son, her beloved son, and then theres drama with ryxal and zyrick runs because he does NOT trust angry adult men. and zyra runs after him, and tries to explain that everythings alright, that he can live with them now and they can be family now, but then zyrick just explodes with all his anger. “they fucking kept you, zyra, but i wasnt fucking good enough. they took me away from my mother and my father- do i even fucking have a father? no, i fucking doubt it- but they kept you, they loved you, you got to grow up in this fancy fucking house reading your fucking books and taking fucking music lessons and praying to fucking pelor once a fucking week and wearing your stupid fucking pretty fancy clothes. and guess how i grew up? i fucking killed people, ive killed people and i bet youve never so much as gotten a fucking hangnail. i taught myself everything i fucking know and i clawed myself up from the mud more than once and i saw the worst fucking parts of you people, and i hate it. and you can never make me be one of you. im not a fucking blueblood.” and he runs.

and thats not really fair, because zyra ii has her own issues with growing up, but zyrick doesnt care about being fair when hes talking to his silver spoon sister.

zyrick very much puts up an airheaded, kinda stupid/floaty/happy-go-lucky personality, but rest assured: he is thinking about murdering you. every soft half-smile and chord strummed on his lute? thats him stabbing you in his mind. and he will kill you with great pleasure.

JYNXLUCK

jynxluck is a young-ish drow warlock and shes absolutely nuts. i mean off her fuckin rocker. mostly thats because she was kidnapped from her village by ghaunadaur-worshipping elves who decided to torture her into seeing visions of the future because of the drows rumored genetic dark magic. and then one day she woke up in captivity and discovered all of the elves were dead, and shes now on a quest to find whoever did that and thank them graciously. she is also chaotic evil and does everything in her power to make her visions come true. this often backfires.

jynxluck is chaotic evil, as opposed to bernard being lawful good and zyrick being chaotic good.

also jynxluck does not lie. shes kind of a fae creature in that trickery and wordplay is fine but lying? lying is uncool and the worst. but she will kill people when she thinks things are going badly. she is c-r-a-z-y. but no lying also means that jynxluck WILL tell you what she thinks of you. shes like a much worse-organized GLaDOS.

oh also she hates all wood elves and take a guess why.

[porcelaindagger]

since this won’t show in the tags from the actual blog

After speaking with some people privately, I had been under the impression that I had been doing a good enough job keeping my head down, minding my own business, and not making a fuss, but it’s evident that this is not the case. I have been back in the community for about a year now as Elle, and since then I have made every effort to use this new alias as an opportunity to turn over a new leaf, make a new start, and be an unobtrusive and altogether quiet presence in the community. I came back simply to write – not to make a fuss or make waves, and I was open and honest about my identity and my past mistakes with those who came to me to ask, and have a small group of people who know that I am Beth, who have known for quite some time now. It was not my intention to “fool” anyone by returning under a different alias, but to exercise the change that I’d implemented in my own life and to show both myself and those who I’d so horribly hurt in the past that I have changed, and that it is possible for people to change for the better. I think the fact that I’ve flown under the radar until now is decent proof that I am not the person I was a year ago; a year ago, I would have gone absolutely nuts in the face of the PSA that’s floating around, and I would have lashed out with irreparable damage – we all saw it happen last time, and it’s because of that that I was so determined not to do it this time. I understand completely why people would not want to be close to me given what I’ve done in the past; I lied, I talked about people behind their back, I pretended to be someone else to hide from what I’d done, I spread slanderous lies about someone who had been nothing but a dear friend to me, and I kept that same friend’s group from receiving the love and praise it deserved simply because I was bitter, paranoid, and malicious in my mindset. I was in a horrid place and going through a downward spiral in which I could not recover from – and though I knew I could not recover, I lashed out and pulled people down with me simply because it was the only option my toxic mindset gave me. I wrecked people who I’d considered family, who’d followed me through hell, high water, and two roleplay groups which ended with my complete meltdown. It was all building up from mistakes I’d made, even before that – in 2013, I copied things from a drabble someone had written; in 2015, I encouraged a friend to write a PSA about another friend simply because I felt that they were drifting from me, and I was so selfish and paranoid that I just couldn’t handle it. I was immature, and felt as if I didn’t have to own up to my mistakes, but as I see the error of hiding from this all and hoping that it’ll just blow over, I think that it’s time for me to put it out there. I was Wesley, I was Beth, and this blog was supposed to be Elle – the new leaf. Elle would never start a positivity blog, only to filter the messages; Elle would never send nasty messages; Elle would never vague blog; Elle would never strongarm someone out of playing the same character; and Elle would certainly never steal, though Beth once thought she could get away with it, and owned up to it.

In my personal life, the last semester has been an absolute trainwreck, and this blog, in my own corner with a small collective of people who I’d told, and in the roleplay groups that I’d chosen to join, was an oasis, and I am incredibly proud of the progress and of the changes that I’ve made in my life, as reflected by my unobtrusive and quiet presence in the RPC. I’ve done my best to be nothing but positive – and those who I’ve found myself close to can attest to that. I never thought of this attempt at a positive new start as an attempt to “trick” anyone with friendship and kindness, and I am so sorry that it’s come across as that, or as anything even remotely underhanded. I hoped that by being Elle and by starting over I could somewhat start to make right the wrong I’d done when I was Beth, and by being kind to those I’d wronged in any way I could, I thought that I was. I never intended for any of this to become a question of lies, victim shaming, or anything of the sort – I was just trying to keep my head down, and mind my own business. I’d even become close friends with one of the people I’d wronged in the past, proving to them that I’d changed before they even knew who I was, and I spoke to another, leaving things on what I assumed was a peaceful note. Perhaps it was a mistake to apply for a character that I’d played so often while I was using my old alias – but I never thought that it would start the wildfire that it did, since I’d been nothing but supportive in doing it. If anyone would like to message me privately, and not anonymously, to discuss the things that I have done, I would be more than willing to do so openly and frankly at my new url, which was created not to hide but to post fandom content rather than rp content without clogging up anyone’s dash.

I do, however, wish to address the claims of plagiarism that have been floating around, as this may be the only chance I have to do so. I understand that everyone’s concerns have merit; I have been a horribly sketchy person in the past, but the claims that are going around now are ones I hold issue with, and I’d like to address them here. Firstly, I’ll start with the claim that I plagiarized an OC from the group I used to run, Fidite Nemini. The character in question is named Holly – I don’t even remember the OC’s last name. A wonderful OC, written by a wonderful person; perhaps the best OC I ever had the pleasure of writing with. But the fact that I also have two characters named Holly is now being called plagiarism, and with this I take issue. First, I have Holly Blanchard, named as such for Holly Golightly. I’ll link her biography HERE. Second is a character in another roleplay that I ran named Holly Gilmore, who was named as such for the plant reference, and because I was going through a heavy Gilmore Girls phase at the time of writing her. Her bio is HERE. I cannot link you to the bio of the OC simply because I deleted the Fidite Nemini main and have no way of finding it. I don’t know where it is, I don’t know what her last name is; the only similarities between these characters is the fact that they’re named Holly and that they’re generally nice, sweet people. I can see how, upon first glance, having a character named Holly might raise some eyebrows, but upon actually reading the bios, it is quite clear that there is no other overlap.

I was also accused of stealing things from the person who played Bellatrix in my group – I cannot link anything here since the Fidite Nemini main has been deleted, but I used, in applying for a Marauders group recently, the bio that I, as an admin, had written as a jumping off point for an application. I’d gone through the old player’s blog to find the biography that I’d written since the main was deleted and I hadn’t saved anything for my own use, and I understand how that must have looked, but had I not deleted everything I could when I left Tumblr the first time. I’d be happy to dig through my google docs and link the application that I’d written up in this post, but I regrettably cannot access the Fidite Nemini bio anymore, or I would. The person who played Bellatrix at Fidite Nemini is, without question, one of the greatest writers I’ve ever had the pleasure of collaborating with, and I must say that it would be very obvious had I stolen from them, as their writing truly stands alone.

I would now like to address the claims that I stole a fair bit of characterization from the user who wrote the PSA about me. I’ll start by saying that yes, I did pin a few of their pins on Pinterest (but I went to a lot of Pinterest boards to create my own), and we have reblogged some of the same things – were I to remain a large presence in the RPC, I would make a point not to reblog musing from anywhere but inspo blogs to avoid this. But I must raise some issue with the claim that I stole a headcanon about sunflowers, a headcanon about running/athleticism, and a FC. I use flower symbolism in a fair number of my applications and characters, and this particular headcanon was written when I read the ProFlowers description of what sunflowers meant (in fact, at the time I was buying flowers for my grandmother, whose birthday I had forgotten, and thought sunflowers might be nice according to the description). I’ll link the headcanon HEREas it includes a link to the article. The running/athleticism headcanon is twofold – the graphic linked HERE is from a quiz which many people in the tag were using, and was therefore not my own doing. But I had put some stock in the character’s athleticism, since it’s both canon that she’d have to be athletic, and because the character is suffering, in the plot, from severe PTSD. It is often recommended to sufferers of PTSD, like myself, and like my combat veteran father, to put much of their anxiety into athleticism, as linked in the headcanon HERE. I put a lot of myself into my characters, and I thought that, as I am dealing with my own battle with PTSD, it would be appropriate to make a point of expanding upon it in the development of a character who very clearly has it. This is not copied and pasted from any blog, nor was it written in an attempt to mimic anyone else’s portrayal. And to insinuate that I am stealing simply because there is overlap in the usage of two face claims is also up for question – I will admit that I did take an interest in Lindsey Morgan as the character because the author of the PSA used her, and I commend you for your excellent FC choice. But the second mentioned, Deborah Ann Woll, is merely a coincidence, and I must take issue with the idea that face claims are exclusive.

In the PSA, it linked things from my old Alice blog that I’d recycled because I am who you all now know I am – were I trying to hide, I wouldn’t have done that. I’d have never been so obvious. I was too optimistic, I suppose, in that I’d kept my head down enough to play this character again, and I truly am so sorry for making you all uncomfortable, and for making you all feel as if I was trying to be devious by going under another alias. All I was doing was trying to mind my own business – and that is what I’m doing now, by turning my writing blog into a simple fandom blog. I’m even further in my corner now, and though I have no intention of leaving my corner, I thought it appropriate to leave this here as both an admittance of everything I’ve done, and a defense of the new character that I’ve built for myself. I understand that the PSA was made to warn people about someone horrible – but I’m not that person anymore. I have nothing but remorse for what I’ve done to those I’ve hurt, and I will never stop regretting the friendships that I destroyed. I considered so many of you my family, and I hurt you. It’s irreparable, and I will never ever stop trying to be a better person because of it. All I wanted was to turn over a new leaf, and to have fun writing with those I could reconnect with, and I apologize from the bottom of my heart for drudging up old hurts. I never want to hurt any of you again, and I never plan to. If anyone wishes to come talk to me about this, so I can explain and own up further, or if you would like a direct apology, I’m now at arhwen. I hope you’re all well, and finish out 2017 well, too.