#Nothing that burns his soul more than someone being near his human...

[sinisterexaggerator]

Final Straw

Nick Valentine x Fem Reader | Ao3

Summary: You're sick to death of listening to people insult and belittle Nick; you take matters into your own hands, much to the Synth's surprise, but your methods are a little bit unorthodox.

Warnings: None, except for blood, violence, and foul language. NICK GETS SUPER PISSED AT YOU, and you also share a kiss. 💋

IT'S FLUFF.

Notes: This is SELF-INDULGENT AF. I hate it when people insult Nick in the game. This is my way of getting them back! And I want to kiss him and tell him I love him so bad. ;-:

Word count: 2k

It was the final straw, the one that broke the brahmin’s back, Nick Valentine left to defend himself against hate and bigotry for the umpteenth time, and you would not be party to it.

For so long you had traveled by Nick’s side, learning of the many facets to his personality. If there was a single thing about him you did not like, it had to be the ease with which he practiced self-deprecation, not knowing how to remedy the awful perception he had about himself.

Oftentimes, he regurgitated what came out the mouths of others; it had been internalized, compartmentalized, processed, and stored in his long-term memory, the detective unable to let things go—just like so many cases that remained unsolved.

“Shit, a Synth— don’t come near me. What a freak, thinks he’s human…”

“Don’t worry, I wouldn’t go near you if it meant tomorrow I’d wake up from this nightmare.”

Your soul ached, knowing that every insult, every snide remark caused some level of psychic damage to your partner, his expressions all too readable for those times he was robbed of his fragile dignity, though always walking away the bigger man.

A culmination of varying factors led you to this, Nick’s tragic past haunting not only himself, but you; what you wouldn’t give to make it better, only wishing you had the power to convince him he was worth more than half the Commonwealth combined.

If Valentine could equate himself to nothing more than garbage, you could be the one to remind him that someone else’s trash was frequently another’s treasure— in this case, he was yours.

Though not privy to your feelings, you adored Nick completely. So much so, you were not above engaging in a physical altercation on his behalf.

“Say that again,” you threatened scathingly, turning to face the asshole who had just dared to disrespect your companion, and for no good reason.

“I said he’s a freak, lady—and what’s a pretty thing like you doing traveling with him, anyway?” the ill-mannered caravan guard asked, acting as if Valentine was some disease he could catch, making a blatant show of his disgust. 

The hired gun pulled no reaction from the Synth, though Nick stared at you tight-lipped, unnatural, glowing eyes trained hard on your face. His silence spoke volumes, instructing you with a stern look beneath the shade of his hat to drop the matter and turn the other cheek—it was something you weren’t willing to do this time, meeting your newfound enemy head-on.

“Apologize!” you demanded, shoving your adversary backward with a forceful push, both your palms making contact with his ribs. Your cheeks burned, accompanying a rise in your temper, readying yourself for if this vermin should do anything but grovel at Nick’s feet.

“Forget it, this guy ain’t worth it,” Nick offered laconically, hoping to appeal to your common sense. “I’ve heard worse in my time; being called a freak is the least of my concerns.”

“But you’re worth it!” you protested, Valentine’s forehead arcing upward at the conviction in your voice. He had a momentary lapse, his concentration faltering as he tried to get a handle on the situation, Nick having visualized an entirely different outcome based on variables that were currently in flux—namely the sudden change in your mood.

It seemed the shithead had caught on, smarter than he looked, eyeing the two of you with suspicion and derision, as if the very idea you could have feelings toward this hunk of junk was baffling when able-bodied, strong men like him existed.   

“Oh, I get it. You’re real sick, lady, a real pervert—you fucking a machine? What’s the matter, human men aren’t good en—”

The jerk was cut off mid-sentence, your balled up fist coming into contact with his jaw; a resounding crack split sound waves as blood spurted from his lips. His colleagues had already wandered off down the road, not wanting to be a part of whatever trouble he had found himself in, having silently agreed to let this member of their team fend for himself.

“You fucking bitch!” the guard twice your size growled, swinging wildly only to miss. Your leg extended; you were pleased when he stumbled, only wishing he had fallen flat on his face.

“Now, wait a—”

He was quick to right himself, spinning on the ball of his heel—you were quicker, kneeing him in the nuts so hard he doubled over, but you weren’t finished yet.

Lifting your arm to gain momentum, you drove the point of your elbow into his spine, causing the offender to drop onto the dirt at your feet.

“I'd say he's down for the—”

Nick couldn’t get a word out; you didn’t appear to be listening, the android observing your uncharacteristic actions with rapt concern. You were pounding your knuckles into the bastard’s nose repeatedly, sticky crimson coating your fist and the man’s sorely wounded face.

As if coming to from a trance, Valentine whisked forward, snatching your wrist before you could cause the poor schmuck any more damage, thinking he may look worse off than even he, what with his bare wires and metal frame exposed to the elements.

“Hey! What’s gotten into you?!” Nick barked, his tone alone condemning your inappropriate conduct, the Synth yanking you up so fast you audibly gasped.

“There ain’t no excuse for this—this guy may be a jackass, but that doesn’t mean he deserves to die!” Nick protested, brows knit in anger the likes of which you had never seen.

You glanced down, only now seeming to notice the extent of his injuries; the man was out like a light. You only cared because he did.

“Nick, I—” you began, voice quavering, losing all resolve as you had been forced to witness Valentine’s sweet disposition vanish, quickly replaced by something undeniably frightening.

You never once imagined yourself to be the victim of his choler, finding you absolutely hated it, breaking down all at once to cry despite not meaning to. You felt simultaneously overwhelmed by guilt and embarrassed beyond measure, unable to look him in the eye.

“Don’t Nick me, this isn’t like you, this—” The man froze, his grip slackening as he loosely held on, thoroughly confused by how you could go from nearly murdering a man in cold blood with your bare hands, to shedding tears in the span of under a minute; he moved to grasp you by your shoulders.

“What’s going on?” he asked, perplexed, the question dry on his tongue. He searched your face for any hint of what the matter was, wondering if you’d lost a screw sometime after leaving Diamond City, as he thought he had a handle on how you operated.

You could not will yourself to respond, vision clouded, droplets pelting your cheeks as you gazed at the ground. You felt worse than a scolded child; you had never meant to upset him so, it being decidedly more terrible than any physical pain you had yet to endure.

“Look at me, damn you!” Valentine demanded, gently jostling you back to the present moment, though your tears only increased, Nick having never cursed at you before.

“Valentine,” you whispered, eyes shimmering, Nick’s fury subsiding to a dull roar as he waited for you to explain yourself. The crease of his brow evened out, the Synth notably more relaxed, though he did not trust you wouldn’t lash out again.

“Go on,” he urged sharply, wanting to get to the bottom of your behavior. It was unnerving, not knowing what else you were capable of at the drop of a dime.

It was an understatement to say that he was surprised when you lifted your arms, pulling the man forward to enfold in your tight embrace. You buried your cheek in the tattered, stained fabric of his coat, crying more softly now as it started to rain.

“Don’t listen to them,” you pleaded, “don’t ever listen to them. You’re perfect just the way you are,” you spoke with earnest, your lips pressing a tender kiss to the spot that lacked a heartbeat, though the gesture stood apart on its own.

“I can’t stand it—the way people treat you, the way they talk down to you—if only they knew—if only they could see what I see—” you sobbed, the sound of your cries muffled against his chest; it was firm, his shirt smelling like coolant and ozone—cigarettes mixed with something earthy—you breathed in deeply, overcome with silent relief when Nick placed his metallic hand on the crown of your head.

“I... I appreciate you, doll,” he started, his voice turning toward a soothing cadence, the way he pet your hair in long, slow strokes comforting you more than it should. “But you didn’t have to do that; would have preferred if you didn’t. Jerks like him get their comeuppance, but it shouldn’t be at the price of dirtying your hands.”

You had never been this intimate with him, nor had you ever planned to be—his words were unscripted, and his affection given of his own volition. You curled in tighter, nuzzling your way into the crook of his good arm, wanting to entomb yourself there for all eternity.

“I’m sorry,” you offered apologetically, feeling the pressure of Nick’s own arms around you, returning your hug, making you feel as if you could die happy at this moment, not minding in the least that there was an unconscious, bleeding man lying only a hairbreadth away. “It hurts me, like I know it hurts you.”

Nick was quiet, mulling over the fact it didn’t do you or him any good to disparage his own person when there were others to do it for him. He had never considered the effect it might have on those around him; it came naturally to want to harp on his own shortcomings—or had it come natural to the real Nick? That was the million-dollar question, wasn’t it.

“You’re right, it does. But I shouldn’t let it bother me, not when I have people like you by my side.”

“I love you, Valentine,” you countered, not recognizing the softness of your own voice. You felt a shift beneath you, your head being coaxed to rise by way of a slow tilt of your chin.

Nick stared down at you, gleaming, golden eyes emoting dolefully as he gazed into yours. He held a deep-seated sorrow, not only for you, but for himself, wishing that he was human, if only so he could touch you, hold you, kiss you the way he wanted to.

“That’s not the smartest thing you’ve ever said, but I take it you mean that,” Valentine replied, bending low to brush soft, silicone lips across yours of flesh and blood; they were cool and rough in texture, but not unpleasant. The fact he was kissing you at all was a dream come true.

“With all my heart,” you replied, cupping the Synth's battered cheek in the bowl of your palm, fingers trailing over artificial skin in a light caress.

“So, that’s what this was all about,” he remarked, conjuring up a smile. “You know, I’d give you mine,” he added solemnly, his glum tone indicative of something he was not telling you.

Instead of elaborating, Nick changed the subject, always one to brighten a dark mood. “Next time, just tell me what’s on your mind instead of beating the living daylights out of some poor schmo, all right?”

You managed a smile of your own, delighting in his sarcasm, glad for the fact your confession had taken a lighthearted turn. “I can’t make any promises,” you quipped.

The detective gave a small shake of his head, that lopsided, infectious grin of his spreading up one side of his face. “Taking a page out of my book, are you?”

“I learned from the best,” you breathed, kissing him once more. Though selfish of you, for all you cared, the world could undergo another nuclear war, and you wouldn’t bat a lash, not for as long as you had your funny Valentine.

[swallowtail-lotus]

Near Perfection {Poseidon x Reader}

Ngl, this panel of Poseidon is just- 😩🤌💕

Fucking gorgeous 😍

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

The sounds of waves crashing down on the sand and the breeze cooling you down was comforting to you. Taking in the scent of the sea, a sigh fell from your lips. The sun shining down gave you some comfort from what happened a few hours ago, when you had attended one of your family reunions.

It went on like the ones before, most of your relatives mocking you and talking behind your back for lacking emotions. Coming from a family of magic users, they had high expectations for you, being the second born of the family. But after discovering you lacked several key points of those expectations, they slowly left you in the shadows of your other siblings.

Not that you cared anyways.

You never cared about their ridiculous ways of thinking, or then in general. You don't even know why you even bothered going if it will end up being the same thing.

The thought of your family irked you, causing the sand from underneath you to heat up and slowly turn to glass. You got up from the sand, walking to some rocks where the waves just barely reach the top of the rocks. You sat down in front of the water, placing your hand in the water. Although you were unable to smile, you felt your heart race from happiness from the cold water.

As soon as you pulled hand out of the water, the water swirled around and a man emerged from the water.

You didn't jump back from shock or fear. You just stared up at the man, whose eyes burned into your soul.

"Ah. Greetings, Poseidon." You greeted the god with your usual blunt tone. The god didn't respond to your greeting, but instead stepped on the rocks, his trident in his hand.

"Why do you come here?"

The blonde god went straight to the point. Truthfully, he was aware of your daily visits to the beach, but never paid much attention to it. But slowly, he picked little bits of what was happening to you from your grumbling. That your family are even lower than scum and how you were mistreated and outcasted by them.

"Why would you care? I thought you gods hate us humans." You grumbled, trying to scoot away from the god. Poseidon didn't speak after that. He knew you were right. But right now, his hatred for your so called family grows more.

"You are correct, but your family are lower than scum." Poseidon hissed at the word family. You finally turned your head to the god, your bored eyes gazing into his sea blue ones.

"Glad someone agrees with me. Yeah, my family's a bunch of shitheads in over their heads." You growled out, your fingers gripping the rock and cracked it. Poseidon tapped his trident twice to get your full attention, which worked on his end.

"You shouldn't associate with them no more. They are beneath you." His words caught you off guard. You never expected such a stoic god like Poseidon to tell you this. But it felt strangely comforting.

"I... You're right. I shouldn't go near them." You agreed with Poseidon. The latter got back into the water, not giving you a goodbye, as expected. You watched the god disappear into the water, leaving you by yourself, on the rocks.

For the first time in your life, a smile appeared on your face. 

Meanwhile, Poseidon made his way back to his kingdom, his thought of you in his mind. The thought of you, a mere mortal, catching his interest. He originally thought all humans were nothing but worthless bottom feeders. But you...

You were near perfection. Something he will fix in the future.

[spiderhanzzz]

"WORST REGARDS, YOUR KARMIC RETRIBUTION" — yang jeongin.

they say success is the best revenge, but sabotage feels better.

word count: 5.8k

pairings: jock!jeongin x nerd!reader

genre: fluff, humour, high school au, one sided enemies to lovers, slow burn, loosely inspired by i hope this doesn't find you by ann liang

warnings: swearing, partying, kissing, biblically accurate (religious) jeongin, everyone is the same age except chan, no use of y/n + gn reader, reader is literally evil incarnate plz dont do this irl ;;

playlist: ivy frank ocean, sexy to someone clairo, everybody talks neon trees, i can't radiohead

a/n: dedicated to @allforhee & all the other i.n stans out there :3 enjoy!!!

You know a lot of things. You know that the idea of zero was invented by an Indian mathematician and astronomer named Brahmagupta. You know how to recite your future Valedictorian speech in Latin. However besides these things, you also know that most things in life are pretty much uncertain.

Except your hatred for Yang Jeongin. That is your probability of 1.

Although your best friend Kim Seungmin says that your probability of 1 should probably be the fact that you’re a damn sore loser.

So when classes started to end and your school’s sports day rolled around, everyone knew not to cross your path. Either they would be on your team, or they wouldn’t even get near you. You’re not even that athletic; in fact, you can barely work out to save your life. But you’re the brains, the mastermind, of your team’s strategies. It’s like that saying, if you can’t beat ‘em, outsmart ‘em, or something like that.

You knew you were winning, or at least you thought you knew. Because just when you were about to cross your final lap of the track and field match, the corner of your eye caught a glimpse of Yang Jeongin’s infamously cordial grin. Disturbed by the audacity, you stop in your tracks to look at his friends sitting on the bleachers and feel a rush of satisfaction rush back in when you see them petrified for their friend’s questionable actions.

He won, of course. And though you took home five more gold medals than him that day, something about the utter disrespect of stealing the spotlight from somebody so clearly feared for a reason unsettles you.

Which is why you’re currently writing a letter to him threatening to take away his position in the basketball team if he doesn’t earn back your respect that he lost from a sports day event three years ago.

It’s less of a letter and more of a drafted email, since you’re not writing it by hand; he doesn’t get to have that sort of power over you. You’re not sending it either. God, no. You’re not that insane.

It’s simply a form of coping, nothing more. You’d reckon if you were to ask a therapist about this method, they would think it’s stellar. It’s like journaling… except instead of self-reflection, the end goal is to live in the delusional cloud where your nemesis knows and fears how much you hate them.

Do whatever your wretched soul can manage to revert back to the regular human state— that is, being absolutely petrified of my existence. Otherwise, say goodbye to that pretty “varsity basketball” title you adore so much.

A smirk twists upon the edges of your lips as your gaze fixes on the words you’ve just typed out. What’s the word for when you gain pleasure from the idea of torturing somebody else? You’re sure ‘sadist’ doesn’t apply when you only crave the suffering of one specific person.

You consider rewriting the entire letter on paper, for the sole purpose of leaving a crimson lipstick stain on the envelope for him to unseal. You don’t even use red lipstick, but perhaps the Irene Adler-ness of it all might subconsciously trigger a flight or fight response from him, as most stupid teenage boys do when faced with distinct power.

When other people fall asleep to daydreams about their crushes, you often drift away to slumber through the relaxation brought upon you from fantasizing about Yang Jeongin on his knees, begging for your forgiveness.

You would have fallen asleep to that dream for yet another night, but your best friend Kim Seungmin rang your phone. Now, if it was any other night, you would have sent him death threats and went back to your fantasies. However you had just asked Seungmin for a very special favor, so you decide to pick up.

“This better be about what I think it is,” you start. “I won’t put up with your post-exam depression bullshit tonight.”

“Don’t worry about that, I managed to get extra credits for everything.” Thuds and crackles fill the audio from the other side of the phone, and you can practically smell Seungmin’s bag of chips and old dusty laptop opening on his desk. “I got what you asked for.”

“Good, just forward it to my email.”

“I don’t understand why you would need it, though,” Seungmin’s voice is muffled by the chips in his mouth. “I mean, the team’s orders at Lucy’s Diner? Seriously? If you had a crush on one of them, you know I could just set you up, right?”

“Ew, I would never!” You fake gag, earning a chuckle from the boy on the other line. “C’mon, you know I have too much self respect for that.” “I think you mispronounced blatant narcissism and self obsession.”

The two of you go back and forth teasing one another for another moment until you urge Seungmin to send the list to your email. He inquires once again but you only brush him off, coming up with something about helping out at Lucy’s for the summer. Which wouldn’t be a complete lie, technically, if all went well.

You know you can’t tell Seungmin about your plan. Not right now. He’s reached that stage of being a teenage boy where he started developing attachment and empathy towards others, and now he’s practically attached at the hip with the rest of the basketball team. All he knows is that you hate Jeongin, and that’s enough for now.

And sure, this whole situation has made you question if you were actually a sociopath, but it needs to be done. You consider it a fair service to the community for taking down another straight male with no brains and a huge ego. They don’t know it yet, but he’s the common enemy.

Soon enough after the sports day incident you had come to the conclusion that if nobody could hate Yang Jeongin, you would make him hate you so much until a primal, animalistic desire to destroy you would take over his spirit. You assume he’d do something so utterly terrible, as men do, then afterwards everyone would finally see with their own two eyes that he is just like every other man in this cruel world. If anything, you’re volunteering as a sacrifice!

So as you zone out on Seungmin’s newfound amusement in the way Mr Marks’ glasses make him look like Chicken Little, you switch your tabs to open the sacred document.

In big, bold letters it reads OPERATION 143: 1 ENEMY, 4 PHASES, 3 YEARS.

The document itself already has over 25 pages, written in detail about your genius ideas to slowly infiltrate your enemy base from the inside out— most worked, but some of them just ended in your loss of dignity. You had even taken ideas from books and films like Parasite to further enhance its artistic integrity. These last three years were a performance, and Jeongin’s life is your stage. You have now entered phase four, and this is your closing act; nobody can steal your spotlight.

Contrary to the precise executions of your past eras, phase four is abstract. Its main goals are to disrupt Yang Jeongin’s peace as directly as possible, whilst leaving as little trail as possible. This, paired with the built up tension from the previous phases, is going to set in motion a domino effect, leading to the collapse of your greatest enemy’s social stature.

Accidentally letting a particularly mischievous giggle slip under your breath, you look back at the email you were drafting to him. You know exactly how to end it.

Careful where you run, Yang Jeongin.

Worst regards,

your karmic retribution.

This is your least favorite time of the year: the period just before summer break. Exams are over, so most teachers let students roam free during their lessons. But not going to school at all can take away from your total attendance, which then goes on your report card, so most students spend their school days sitting around in boredom and watching the sports teams play.

seungmo: Do u wanna come to practice

seungmo: Jisung bought cheesecake for everyone and I don’t want mine

seungmo: I don’t want him to take mine tho lol

That was fifteen minutes ago, and now you’re sitting on the bleachers on a date with a delicious slice of blueberry cheesecake and iced coffee, absentmindedly watching your best friend practice. Despite your close ties with Seungmin, you’ve never really been interested in the other team members— except for the occasional trading of homework answers with Jisung. Ever since middle school, you’ve sort of established that you want nothing to do with people like them: rowdy, sporty, and popular. Seungmin once noted that you say “popular” like it’s a slur. You couldn’t disagree.

“So… Karmic retribution, huh?”

You freeze.

“Pardon?” You turn around, only to be faced with the one and only Yang Jeongin.

“Karmic retribution?” He inquires further, expecting you to get the hint. “Y’know, what you called yourself in your… email? Death threat? Not sure what to call it, actually.”

Oh shit. Oh fuck.

“I-I don’t know what you’re talking about, dude,” you laugh off the question. “I don’t even know your name, let alone your email.”

“Well, that’s clearly a lie, since your name is on your email address. And my name was in your… Seriously, what should I call this thing?”

Fuck fuck fuck. You must have accidentally hit ‘send’ when you fell asleep on the phone with Seungmin. That prick; he always manages to embarrass you somehow.

“Listen, I didn’t even know you go here. I had to ask Chris if he knows which one you are, and you just happened to be here right now.” Jeongin rakes his fingers through his stupid gross sweaty damp hair, then dragging his palm across his face in exasperation. “Whatever I did to you, I’m really sorry.”

“What do you mean you didn’t know I go here?” You’re baffled, truly baffled, and you basically lost control of your body when you heard those words. Suddenly your voice can be heard by anyone within a ten foot radius, and if it weren’t for that they would have thought you were about to smother him with kisses by the lack of distance between your bodies. “I’ve been here since fucking middle school! I sit behind you in Spanish— I ask you for a pen every two and a half weeks only to lose it every single time. You’re saying you don't remember me?”

“Oh, that’s you? My bad. You sit behind me, so I didn’t really get to see your face up close.” Jeongin doesn’t even flinch at the proximity of your faces. He simply gives you a brief look up and down and goes, “Now that I am seeing you up close, you’re the one that always hangs out with Seungmin, right?”

Then it hits you: this is the universe sending you a signal to initiate phase four. Sure, him not remembering who you are might have set you back by a few milestones, but who’s counting? (You are. You always are.) 

If anything, you’re grateful for the redirection, because now you know that before you can ruin him, you must first build him up.

“Alright, look,” you begin, taking a step back to put some inches between the two of you. He reeks of rubber and soda, the stench makes you ill. “Let’s start over, shall we?”

“‘Kay, cool,” he says with a nonchalant shrug. “See you around, I guess…?”

“Wait, that’s it? You’re not even gonna ask why I hated you in the first place?”

“Doesn’t matter now, does it? We’re already starting over.” The genuine lack of irritation in his face makes you curl your fists and fight the urge to give him a black eye. “Plus, you’re one of those nice smart kids. I don’t have beef with your kind.”

And for the first time in your life you wanted desperately to become popular, because maybe then Jeongin would take you seriously.

But it’s fine. You’re going to destroy him regardless.

“Yo, not to interrupt this whole bonding thing we have going on, but I kinda need to head back to practice.” His voice snaps you back to reality. “Is that chill with you?”

“Yeah, yeah. That’s chill.” You muster up your most convincing smile for him. One time in fifth grade your drama teacher told you you’re a natural actor, and you pray to God those innate talents are still there. Now that you think about it, she may have just been calling you a liar.

For good measure, you give him an awkward thumbs up before walking away. When you make eye contact with Seungmin, he raises his eyebrow as if to ask what the fuck was that? You can only shrug in response. You have no idea either.

You sit back down on the bleachers, occasionally eyeing your target, feasting your eyes on the way his muscles flex under his baggy Radiohead t-shirt when he dribbles the ball around the court and the sweat that drips from his hair. You’re used to your own deranged behavior, but this feels almost perverse. Maybe it’s because you’re basically acquaintances with him now (the word makes you want to spit your cheesecake back up), or maybe it’s because you can’t help but let your stare linger on the cross dangling from his chain.

Gross, you think to yourself, as you keep your eyes on him for the rest of the day.

On the last day of school before summer break, the unexpected happens: the basketball team invites you to their party. Well, technically, they invited everyone. It’s supposed to be Bang Chan’s last party before he graduates, and he just so happens to be friends with every single student. Thus, you and Seungmin are now situated in front of his front door, waiting for him to welcome you in.

You don’t usually go to parties, and to be very honest nobody really expects you to. The reasoning is a bit pretentious, you suppose, but you truly just don’t believe in the necessity of rebellion in leading to better adulthood. However you do believe in yourself and your incredibly sexy intellectual prowess, and you have an operation to carry out, so tonight you let yourself let loose just a bit.

“Ah, there you guys are!” Chan greets you and Seungmin, ushering you inside his… house is an understatement, honestly, it’s a mansion. “Mingle around!”

You’re still out of place, you notice. Since you didn’t plan on actually drinking or dancing, you decided to come in your usual get-up of your dream university’s merch sweater and a pair of baggy jeans. You mentally cursed yourself for not realizing that all of Chan’s friends would be the cool, charismatic type.

Suddenly wishing you had stayed home instead, you excuse yourself to the bathroom, which was (fortunately for you) on the second floor, away from most of the crowds. When you get there, however, you’re met with Jeongin’s sharp gaze in front of the door.

“Been a while,” he states, leaning on the wall and crossing his arms in front of his chest. “Could I get you anything? A drink, maybe?”

“I don’t drink. At least not tonight,” you respond. Then you notice that his hands are also empty. “What about you?”

“Nah, I don’t do that stuff.” He shakes his head to enunciate his disapproval. “I don’t mind that the other guys do it, but I’m pretty religious, so…”

The devil perched upon your shoulder whispers hot but the angel on the other side exclaims what the fuck?

“Cool.” You stare at your shoes, thinking about how to turn this exchange into yet another round of revenge. When you get an idea, you beam up at him. “Wanna walk and talk with me?”

The moment he verbalizes his agreement, you grab him by the arm and rush downstairs. There, you do as you had suggested: walk and talk. Turns out Chan’s first floor is big enough for about thirty minutes of conversation.

When you get to the outdoor pool, you take off your shoes and dip your toes in the water with Jeongin following suit, sitting right beside you. Your conversation drifts to so many different topics— music, childhood TV shows, dating— you almost forget the reason why you brought him here. He’s observant, you notice, and he has thoughts on a lot of different things, something you didn’t think was possible. You always thought he was just dumb.

“Y’know, I was kinda flattered by your email, I’m not gonna lie,” he admits sheepishly.

“Pardon?” You look at him, puzzled. “Did you say flattered?”

“Well, yeah, I mean, no one really notices me like that.”

You stare at him, eyes blank and mouth agape. Surely this guy has gone insane, right? He’s one of the school’s most beloved students, by other students and faculty members alike.

“Like, I know they like me, but I don’t really stand out amongst the others. Chris is the friendly one, Minho is the mysterious one, Changbin is the strong one, Hyunjin is the artistic one, Jisung is the funny one, Felix is the kind one, Seungmin is the smart one, and what am I? I have all those qualities too, but they pale in comparison. People don’t have enough reason to hate me, but I know they think I’m boring. So being hated so passionately was kind of a big thing for me… I’m sorry, is that weird?”

If you didn’t want to slap him before, you sure as hell do now. How blindly privileged is this guy that his problem in life is not being the coolest guy on the varsity basketball team? You puff out your cheeks to hold back an exasperated sigh, and pull out a gentle smile instead.

“Jeongin, I don’t think people see you that way at all.” You place a comforting hand on his shoulder. “Have you ever considered that maybe they might just be a bit intimidated by you?”

This is exactly how your mother talks to you when you start crying about how nobody ever has a crush on you on a random Thursday night. God bless that woman for gaslighting you into a positive attitude.

“You really think so?” He looks at you with these wide puppy-like eyes and you finally understand what the girls on Instagram mean when they talk about ‘getting the ick.’

“Really,” you affirm with a bright smile.

“Thank you. That means a lot to me.”

Just as he pulls you into a warm embrace, you push him just subtly enough that he wouldn’t notice it until he’s falling into the pool. With a large splash, all eyes turn to the two of you. He comes up from the water, clothes and hair drenched, and you feel a sense of satisfaction wash over you when you finally see a distressed expression etch itself onto his features.

“Fuck, I’m so sorry!” You lie, faking your concern. “Are you okay?”

“I’m… I’m fine.” He climbs out of the pool, and you curse yourself for staring a little too long at his defined muscles under his wet shirt. Then, he turns to you and says, “Needed to cool off anyways.”

And he laughs. Laughs at himself and laughs at your befuddled face and laughs when Chan asks if he’s alright, shooting him a quick thumbs up before grabbing the nearest beach towel. When his other friends crowd around him, he laughs and laughs and laughs and it drives you fucking insane. The resonating sound of his laughter surrounds the backyard in an instant, and for a moment you wish you had drowned yourself in that pool instead.

“I will shove my middle fingers in your dimples,” you mutter under your breath, and you consider it a promise.

“Be right back,” he tells you before rushing to the nearest bathroom to change his clothes, playfully flicking droplets of water onto your face and ruffling your hair, dampening it.

You watch as he walks away, feeling a strange pang of guilt in your chest when you notice his smile faltering as people start to focus amongst themselves again. Now it’s your turn to laugh, half out of disbelief and half out of pure glee.

Everything is going according to plan.

“I didn’t push him.”

Lie.

“We were just talking.” Lie.

“I still hate him.”

Lie?

Wow, three lies in a row. And to your best friend, of all people. This Operation 143 has really tested your moral compass, and it’s not looking great for you. No wonder why Seungmin is calling you at 3 AM, interrogating you about what the hell happened tonight.

“See, now, some of those statements kind of contradict each other,” he states. “I have no doubt that you still hate him, but I also don’t doubt the pure evil in your heart. You would have pushed him, and you wouldn't even be sorry about it.”

“Uh, well, you’re wrong,” you tell him. “Clearly you don’t know me that well then.”

“Whatever you say, but if one day you decide to come clean of your crimes, you owe me something. Something very very dear to me.”

At first you were nervous, because it’s obvious your best friend is on to you (note to self: be less evil on a day to day basis). But then you remember it’s your best friend, there’s only one thing he would want from you in this situation.

“Yes, yes, I’ll take you out for a fancy dinner,” you sigh. “That’s only if I confess my sins to you, Father Seungmin, and it’s not happening because I’m completely innocent.”

“Please never call me that again.”

“Noted.”

At that, your phone buzzes with a new notification. It’s from an unknown number, but you can see a display name. Jeongin.

~Jeongin: u up?

God, could this guy act more like a fuckboy? Somehow noticing the tension in the air despite your physical distance, Seungmin questions your mood.

“Jeongin just texted me.”

“Oh, so that’s what he wanted your number for.”

“Are you dumb?” You ask, but it feels more like an accusation. “Why the fuck else would he ask for my number, idiot?”

Seungmin makes a noise equivalent to a shrug, and you let it pass. You were just about to question him further about Jeongin asking for your number, but the man himself texts once again.

~Jeongin: wanna hang tmr?

“Ew,” you mutter quietly. “I think he thinks we’re friends or something.”

“Oh, right, I remember you don’t do those.” You can almost hear his eyes rolling at your annoyance at Jeongin. He’s expressed his disapproval for your one-sided rivalry many times, but you always bite back with words too vulgar to write down here.

“Yeah, you know you’re only my close acquaintance, right?” You turn your attention back to your phone, biting your thumb in deep thought. “I’ll be mean to him. Should send the right message.”

You need to change your technique anyway. Befriending him only to be annoying is only going to make him like you more, and betraying him out of the blue takes too much commitment. This is phase four, after all— you have such little time to get the job done. If you manage to succeed during senior year, people aren’t gonna care anymore because everybody is leaving anyway.

You won’t shy away from it anymore; it’s time to be direct. It’s time to be evil.

You: no.

Seungmin sputters out a laugh once you send the screenshot of your texts to him. “You couldn’t have even given him a reason why? God, you’re crueler than I thought.”

“Why can’t he just hate me back?” You whine, slumping your shoulders defeatedly. “Why is he so… So nice? What’s wrong with him?”

“Maybe he likes you,” Seungmin teases. “I kinda see the vision, actually. The nerd and the jock… Classic perfection.”

“You mean cliché,” you groan. “His type is probably other athletes or something. Popular people date popular people, Seungmo.”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night,” Seungmin continues in a sing-song tone, so you close your ears and make weird noises, a signal that it’s time for him to shut the fuck up.

jeongin (DONT RESPOND): oh

jeongin (DONT RESPOND): ok :[

A week later you’re sitting in front of the bus station, waiting for Seungmin to arrive. He had promised to take you to the new coffee shop that just opened up to get some work done as a means to get ahead of other students. Nerdy as it may be, this is your summer ritual with your best friend, and if you didn’t fulfill it by the beginning of the summer, the guilt is going to eat you alive until you won’t be able to properly enjoy your holiday.

The summer breeze (or lack thereof) feels like it’s burning you alive, so you pull off your usual sweater to reveal a tank top underneath. Huffing out in irritation, you send a quick text to Seungmin.

You: wru

You: why take so long

You: ur so not a gentleman this is why ur single

Instead of an answer, you receive a phone call in return. You pick it up. “Yo, where are you? I’ve been waiting here for fifteen fucking minutes, dude, I’m parched.”

“I brought a friend,” said Seungmin, completely disregarding your complaints. “Look in front of you.”

And there he is, walking towards you with none other than Yang Jeongin beside him, waving at you like a stray puppy. You close your eyes, trying to pretend for as long as possible that none of it is real. This is probably what I get for trying to sabotage someone out of the basketball team, you think to yourself, deciding to surrender to your fate and greet them with as much kindness as you can muster for the time being.

After approximately thirty minutes of sitting down and discussing the next academic year’s syllabus, you decide that that was the last bit of kindness in your heart. So when Jeongin leaves to go to the restroom, you waste no time catching Seungmin up on what you’ve actually been doing. The letter, the operation— everything.

“25 pages?” Seungmin asks you in disbelief. “My god, that’s a thesis.”

“It might as well be, at this point.” You nod solemnly at his comment. There’s no use denying anything; at your core, you’re just pure cruel and sadistic. At the very least you know your best friend will love you regardless, even if nobody else will.

“Listen, I love you, truly I do. But you’ve got to stop,” Seungmin grabs your shoulders and looks you dead in the eye. He has never looked this serious before and meant it. “He’s, like, falling in love with you.”

“Pardon me?”

“I know, I know, it’s your worst nightmare, and I know you don’t like him like that, which is why I’m telling you this. Stop now or you will break his heart even more.”

Just as you were about to respond, Jeongin comes back to the table. If he hadn’t, you’re not sure what you would have had to say. Would you disagree with even the thought of it, telling Seungmin he’s a liar? Would you have argued that if your plan were to work, Jeongin would hate you in the end anyway? Or would you have asked him how to make those feelings grow?

But no, no. He doesn’t like you, not like that. He’s just kind, that’s all. He can’t.

And the next hour passes by like torture, with both boys having to snap you back to the present moment about five times each. You couldn’t care less about the syllabus or the coffee or the new inside jokes you all made that day. All you could think about was how Jeongin’s hand would brush against yours when he borrowed a pencil, or the way his eyes would lock with yours when he laughed at Seungmin’s sarcastic remarks.

The entire time, your mind was calculating the probability of Jeongin actually being in love with you. Each answer was always too close to 1 for your liking.

You couldn’t get him out of your head.

To be fair, you never could. But it used to be about hatred. You used to find joy in boring two-hour classes because you knew you could just spend those two hours daydreaming about what Jeongin would look like with real tears in his eyes, with a scowl on his lips, with anything other than that damned smile.

You told your boss you’d be taking the night shift at Lucy’s for a while, because your days would be spent hanging out with friends on the holidays. This isn’t true at all, of course, you just found it more difficult to escape those Jeongin-plagued thoughts when you were about to drift to slumber. Unfortunately, this didn’t work the way you had hoped, because it turns out the diner basically doesn’t have any customers after 8 PM.

It’s almost 10 PM now, the hour when you’ll have to close up the diner. Nobody has come inside in the last forty-five minutes, so you figure it’s best to close up early. That way, you’ll get more time to scroll on your phone or read a book.

You should have seen it coming, really. You know you could never escape him. There, standing in front of the doors of Lucy’s diner, is your haunting, your shadow, your karmic retribution.

“I keep thinking about you,” he says, almost breathless, as he steps into the diner.

“How long have you been standing there?” “Like, five seconds,” he answers. Then, as if to emphasize his previous statement, he says, “You owe me sleep.”

“You don’t think that goes both ways?” You turn away from him, placing all the cleaning supplies on the bar counter. When you look back, he’s already eagerly striding towards you.

“What are you saying? That you want me?”

“I… I don’t know,” you mutter. You can’t look at him, not right now, not like this. You would break not just his heart, but yours as well. “I don’t know how I feel. I need a… an experiment or an investigation or something that I know is going to tell me if this is actually real, because I have no fucking clue what’s real anymore.”

Without another word, he places both palms on the counter behind you, trapping your body between his, and kisses you.

It knocks the breath right out of your soul. Every vessel in your brain is screaming at you, reminding you that it’s wrong and he’s not supposed to like you and you’re not supposed to like him back and that you sure as hell shouldn’t be kissing him at all, let alone your workplace.

Nevertheless, you can’t help it. Everything you knew has been proven wrong. Everything you have questioned has proven themselves to be true. You know nothing at all. You kiss him back.

Acknowledging your reciprocation, he lifts a hand to cradle your face, gently brushing his thumb over your cheekbone down to your jaw. He takes a step closer, pressing your body flush against his. You haven’t closed the diner; somebody could walk in at any moment.

Running your fingers through his soft locks, he takes the opportunity to trail his lips to your neck. It’s at this moment that you begin to feel everything, and it’s all too real too quick. You push him away, taking one brief glance at his disheveled hair and swollen, rose-tinted lips.

You know you shouldn’t. You know you’re being a coward. You know the answer.

Be that as it may, you still run.

seungmo: Bball game @ school tonight

seungmo: Idk what happened w u and jeongin but pls come to the game

seungmo: U know how much ive been looking forward to this

seungmo: I'll keep him away, i promise

You shouldn’t have gone. You should have stayed home, rotting in your room for yet another night, catching up on all the studying you missed out on when you went to that coffee shop with Seungmin, finding yourself tracing the shape of your lips when you’re deep in thought, recalling the way Jeongin’s felt on yours.

The truth is, you do know how much Seungmin has been looking forward to this match. He had realized long ago that you couldn’t care less about sports, but still he found your face amongst the crowd every single time. Even though you had such a deep scowl it made him chuckle every time he saw you, he felt his chest warm with affection at the act of being present.

This is one of those unconditional, unspoken rules you’ve established in your friendship. You would support him, and he would support you. You couldn’t have ditched this.

But as you approach closer and closer to the basketball court, you notice something amiss. By now, you should have been able to hear the rowdy chanting of other students. You should have already been blinded by the lights surrounding the court, considering it’s already 6 PM. You should have seen Seungmin waiting for you, but he’s not there.

Nothing’s there. Nothing but Yang Jeongin, standing in the middle of the court.

“I’m starting to think Seungmin is playing matchmaker,” you say as you walk towards him.

His face cracks into a fit of laughter, and it lights up the whole area. “You think?”

You’re close enough to him to see how puffy his eyes are— is he just exhausted or has he been crying? He’s silent for a second, catching his bottom lip between his teeth, before opening his mouth to finally speak.

“Listen, I—”

“No, no,” you interrupt him. “Let me speak first.”

“I used to despise you, as you already know. For a reason that is so stupid that if I said it out loud right now I’d pee myself laughing, probably. And I guess that hatred helped me cover up my insecurities, and that I couldn’t believe someone like me and someone like you could be with anything more than enemies.” At some point, you started looking into his eyes, and now you can’t seem to pull away. “You’re not boring, Yang Jeongin, not at all. You’re certain. You’re my probability of 1.”

“So… Moral of the story, I’m different from all the other boys, yes?” He teases, wrapping his arm around your waist and pulling you closer inch by inch.

“You think that’s the moral of the story?” “Hell, no,” he chuckles. “The moral of the story is that sometimes you need to ditch that whole superiority complex and realize that you’re exactly like everybody else. You’re smart, yes, but you’re also stupid and naive and clumsy. And that’s completely alright. That doesn’t make you any less deserving of anything, it just makes you human.”

And as he tugs you into a kiss, you realize he’s right. It doesn’t matter what you know. Life is still uncertain, anyway, and the probabilities of most things are far less than 1. All you know is that whatever happens, you’ll be loved in the process.

[h8ani]

Pairing - Manjiro Sano x Reader

Word Count - 1.7k

Warnings - fem!reader, alcohol consumption, reader copes in different ways, mentions of sex, no smut

Ignoring everything that's going on around you was a skill you didn't know you possessed until you caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror. It was still the same person that always stood there except there was no light behind your eyes. Eyes darker, dark circles more prominent and you could even tell there were some physical changes to your body. You were able to ignore life and all of the issues that were swarming around like a pesky fly that kept buzzing near your ear. You couldn't see it but you knew of its presence.

Turning off your emotions was a natural defense against overloading yourself with the pain and suffering one has to deal with, you once read. It was second nature not to feel anything anymore, you've done it for so long you can't fathom to feel the emotions you once did.

Some people like to read to ignore their problems — traveling to another universe and live a life they wish they led, others like to drink their issues away or even taking pills; not remembering what transpired the night before and swallowing down the substance to send them over the edge of euphoria, body feeling higher than their mind could ever go and not having a proper thought in their head, you — you'd rather let others consume your mind and body, allowing the alcohol in your system to cloud your proper judgment as you allow others to use your body as they wish. Because at the end of the day, you didn't want to deal with what life was like.

It was a routine for you — every time life got too much or if you felt like the world was drowning you from every angle and orifice, sex was the distraction. At first, it was with just anybody that would look your way in a random bar, any poor soul that would fall for the trap you beautifully laid out for them, you felt bad in all honesty. The ones who wanted more from you but could never get it, how could they? You were a shell of a human walking around and snatching up anybody that would come your way. Some would try and see you again, eventually wanting to date but that wasn't what you wanted, far from it.

Your routine was set, no reason to break the habit of drinking to lower your inhibitions. Yet here you were tangled in his bedsheets and breaking every rule you had set for yourself.

Downing another shot, the cold liquid burns down your throat, a comforting feeling really. A smile crept on your face as you already knew what the outcome of tonight would bring. The bartender brings your second shot that you had ordered, the clinking of the glass on the counter being drowned out by the music that was playing around you. You bring the shot up to your lips and knock it back, the burn less significant this time.

Arms snake around your waist while pulling you back against his chest. "Slow down a bit, we have all night." His voice rings lowly in your ear. Your smile grows bigger as you turn in his arms.

"All night hmm?" You giggle as you take in his features.

Mikey was the one who you so helplessly broke your routine for. The exception. He was a friend, an acquaintance really as you two weren't necessarily close, but calling him a friend makes everything easier. He was kind but closed off, as were you although he seemed to be hiding his indifference with the world much better than you were. You had known him for the better part of a year, maybe a little longer, paths always crossing with one another yet nothing ever escalated with either one of you. You knew him and he knew you and that was that.

Once you started hooking up with Mikey everything had gotten easier, no need to try and find someone to numb you from the pain that's called life. The world around you still sucked but you had somebody to distract you from that. It was the right place at the right time when you both eventually hooked up for the first time, alcohol obviously involved and no words needing to be said other than "your place or mine?"

It's easy with him. No feelings, no complications, just sex.

He leans down and kisses you, lips pressed together while his tongue teased your own. He was never one to care about who's around. You couldn't help the giggle that escaped you as you pulled away. "Let's take a shot."

"You want another?" His eyebrows raise while you nod and smile happily knowing he couldn't say no, not to you. He rolls his eyes before looking back down to you. "You're spoiled."

"You're the one spoiling me."

"So you don't want a drink?" He quickly rebuts, eyebrows raising and a smile showing once he sees the pout on your face.

Your arms wrap around his neck while you pull him closer. "I'm sorry."

"How sorry?"

"Very sorry." You lean up and peck his lips. "So sorry that I can't wait to show you how sorry I am later tonight." You could feel the rumble of his chest against yours as he groans, head tipping back before looking at you again.

"Let's get you that shot."

“Shit.” You giggle, tripping into his bedroom. His hand reaches for your waist as he guides you to the bed.

His room is always fairly clean aside from the stray shoes you happened to stumble over. The scent of his cologne wafts through your senses as you lean back against his bed to look at him, a smile gracing your face although Mikey’s expression is solemn. “I told you to slow it down with the shots.” He lifts you up effortlessly onto his bed, the sheets cool against your warm skin causing goosebumps to show. His hands slid from your waist down to your leg until they were resting on your heel, unstrapping the intricate lock that was placed on the back of the shoe.

A pout forms on your face as he finally takes your heel off, letting it fall onto the floor. “Don’t be like that.”

“I’m not being like anything.” He lets your leg down and taps on the other, a silent que to give him your other foot. You do as he motions and allow him to take off your other heel. As you watch him you notice his furrowed eyebrows showing nothing but frustration.

His emotions never slip out enough to where you’re able to see it, Mikey is good at that — something you wished you could do, although seeing him slip right now turned something in your stomach that you didn’t quite know. Why is he frustrated?

“Are you mad at me?” You ask with a quiet voice. He looks up at you once your heel is off your foot and back on the floor with the other, his eyes soften once seeing you wary. His voice was calm and there was a slight smile showing although you aren’t sure if it was forced or not.

“Course not,” he says as he opens up his dresser that was beside his bed. He pulls out the first shirt and pair of sweats he sees before tossing them beside you. “Hop down for me.” His hands reach and find a place on your waist before helping you settle back down to your feet and turning you around. You allow him to move you as he wishes, making it easier for him to unzip your dress. The dress slides off your body until it’s pooling around your ankles, you kick the dress to your shoes before grabbing the clothes he had on his bed.

You always liked wearing his clothes; the smell, the warmth it brought you, the comfort. Even being in his room brought you a subtle calmness to the mess of your life that you appreciated. You were at peace here, with him.

Once you’re in his clothes you turn to see Mikey, his shirt has already been discarded and he has already changed into a pair of basketball shorts that hang lowly on his hips. You couldn’t help your eyes as they took him in, everything about him seemed so perfect from an outside perspective.

His hands gripped your sides as he lifted you back up on the bed allowing you to crawl to your side and fall against his pillows.

Mikey watches you as you lay down getting comfortable in his bed. It was something about the way you both have designated sides in his bed that turns something in his stomach he never really understood. It was just sex, that’s what it’s always been and he was perfectly okay with that. It was easy and no bullshit complications came from that but the clouded look in your eyes he always sees makes him wish he could see you more, not just drunken nights or days.

As he gets into bed you’re already cuddling up to him, arms wrapping around his waist holding him close. You let your eyes flutter shut as you melt into his warmth. He sighs out, contently in your ears but to him he was torn.

You feel his hand tuck under your chin, tilting your head up to him.

Just like clockwork.

His lips meet yours and just like the same routine your body seems to move and react on its own, knowing your schedule better than you do.

You get lost in the kiss, head spinning and body tingling where his hands roam your body. His arm slides under you easily moving you to your back, lips never once leaving each other. His hands reach yours, fingers intertwining and pressed firmly on each side of your head. Mikey slowly pulls away, making you chase his lips until he leans back further to look at you. You’re confused, expression distorting and making your confusion evident. He stares down at you and sighs out. “Kinda sucks that I can only have you like this.” He confesses, grip on your hands tightening as if you were going to run away from him at this very moment.

You wanted to.

The words he said were circling in your head, you were trying to process what he meant as fast as you could. Mikey saw the frustration building within you and shook his head, leaning back down to capture your lips in his to make you forget.

No point in breaking something that’s already broken.

@bitchcraftinc @enchantedforest-network

[ezraischell]

Tags: angst, mentions of yingxing, reader is a short lived human, what lemon? i only have onion, dan feng is still pining for yingxing, ooc dan feng.

“a moth to a flame.” —dan feng x fem!reader

Dan Feng's heart shattered into pieces as soon as death took Yingxing into its embrace. The wind howls through his empty soul; you know he has not moved on.

What hurts most is that he will never love you the way he loved his now deceased lover.

You make him feel some semblance of happiness again, yet the pain within him is still raw. Perhaps it's because just like Yingxing, you are also a short lived species.

"I love you, but..." he declares, his words followed by haunting silence. The tension has increased as you await his next answer.

"But you're not him."

You remained silent upon hearing his voice, his words acting as though they are that of a thousand swords, mercilessly impaling your heart through and through, and yet, you never uttered a single word and never have you broken out of your stoic character just to breakdown in front of him. No, you wouldn't do that, you couldn't.

"I understand." Was all that she could say. Despite that, she knew deep down that it definitely hurt more than what she had perceived for herself.

He knew that he had inflicted pain upon you with his words, but he couldn't bear to lie. Despite his love for you, his heart still ached for Yingxing. The void in his soul persisted, a constant reminder of his lost companion.

He reached out to gently stroke the side of your face, his touch tender and reassuring, despite the weight of his words.

"You deserve better than this," he murmured, his voice filled with a hint of regret. "You deserve someone who can love you fully, without any reservations."

"..."

You wanted to recoil from his touch but you didn't, you remained still under the influence of the remaining respect and attachment that you still bore for him.

His hand, no matter how much it seemed like that of a cold touch burning painfully against your skin, remained.

And yet again, he was right. You deserved better than a bare minimum treatment from him, you were simply too blind and incapable of recognizing it for yourself.

As Dan Feng observed your stoic demeanor in response to his touch, he couldn't help but feel a sense of frustration with himself. He wished for you to react, to express your feelings, to show that he meant something to you.

But instead, you remained quiet and still. It was as if you had built a wall around your heart, refusing to show any vulnerability.

"You know I can still love you in my own way, right?" he whispered quietly, his voice tinged with a hint of longing and softness.

No matter how much he tried, you wouldn't budge or give in. Why would you? You were built and molded by the cruel world into a being incapable of ever finding the key within yourself to free your emotions.

No matter how much he loved you, you will never be able to find it in yourself to reason with him nor his words. You were simply crafted that way by the world.

"I sometimes wonder why you have walked into my life of solitude, only to ruin its peace the longer you stay."

While you understood that he could not move on from his dead lover, It always left you wondering silently to yourself why he chose to give you hope, only to take it away and break it when he realized that he cannot love you the way you expected him to.

Frustrated by your lack of response and hurt by your cold demeanor, Dan Feng couldn't help but express his confusion. He was at a loss as to how to connect with you, how to reach you.

"If you're so upset with my presence, then why do you tolerate it?" he asked, his voice tinged with a mixture of anger and despair. "Why do you allow me to be near you if it brings you nothing but pain? You have the power to push me away, yet you choose not to."

"Just like how a moth is drawn to flame, no matter how harmful it may be to them, I feel something similar akin to that.."

Despite your cold exterior, had always been drawn and attracted to his affection like a moth to a flame, always seeking the light in the dark and the warmth in the freezing world.

No matter how painful it may be, you knew what you wanted. If you truly love him, you wouldn't leave no matter how harmful he is to you.

Just like how harmful a flame is to a moth. However, you didn't need his pity, you never will. You do this out of your own will, even if he still cannot move on from his dead lover and sees you as a mere replacement.

He sighed heavily, his anger slowly fading away to give way to a deep sense of sadness. He took a moment to compose himself before replying.

"I wish I could love you the way you deserve," he said softly, his voice tinged with resignation. "But I'm afraid that a part of my heart will always belong to Yingxing. It's not fair to you, and I know that. But..."

He trailed off, his eyes downcast. He knew there was no justification for hurting you like this, and he hated himself for it.

"I am aware.. that's why, i would like to leave you and end our relationship. I wish to sever my ties with you, Yinyue-jun."

Perhaps it was out of the impulse influencing your feelings and causing you internal turmoil. But you knew better than to be selfless and disregard yourself, that would be very disrespectful to your own being.

You can't live without him, or so you thought, but then again, can you live with him while knowing he is hurting you? No, you could not. You knew better than that.

His expression grew grim as he heard your words. He knew this moment was coming, yet he still felt a pang of disappointment in his chest.

"If that is your decision, then I cannot stop you," he said quietly, his voice tinged with resignation. "But I want you to know that I truly cared for you, and I never wanted to hurt you."

He reached out a hand towards you, his eyes clouded with sadness. "Will you give me one last embrace before you go?"

"Unfortunately, i cannot."

With that being said, you walked away. You walked away, severing your ties with him and freeing yourself from the shackles of his love that you assumed for yourself.

"Farewell, Yinyue-jun."

[cozyfoxy]

Time and Time Again Chapter 1

Summary: Have you ever met someone for the first time, and felt at ease immediately? When you looked into their eyes, you saw a movie of your lives together, and when you shook hands, warmth surrounded you. A strange form of recognition, though you had never met them before.

Sometimes, when you meet someone new, it’s less of a “nice to meet you.” and more of a “glad to see you again!” Soulmates, some people call them. Two halves of one soul, torn apart only to meet again. Kindred spirits, others call it—two separate souls who have known each other for many lifetimes. No matter what you might call it, that recognition is there.

When Dan Howell saw his first AmazingPhil video, he felt a longing that was like nothing he had dealt with before. He needed to know this human as well as he knew himself. Though he hadn’t met the other man yet, he knew that they were destined to be friends, lovers or 4000-year-old tortoises together. How many lifetimes had they already shared?

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1693, Salem Massachusetts 

Daniel and Philip had been best friends since birth. Their mothers grew up like sisters, so when both women fell pregnant at the same time, they knew that their children would be as close as they were. Philip was born first, just five hours before Daniel. The boys were nearly inseparable, more like brothers than friends. They did their schooling together, sat together at church, and got into trouble together. It was odd to see one without the other. 

Now. as young men, they were learning their places in the world. Philip was diving deeper into his father’s woodworking business and helping his mother with her sewing. Daniel was being taken to every town meeting by his father who was a minister and now, a witch hunter. When the first witch was found in their town, a few men stepped up to find the others, Daniel’s father included.

During the trials, the accused would nearly always beg for their lives, beg for forgiveness, and admit to being a witch. Though, Daniel was never quick to believe that they truly were a witch. Many of the accused kept to themselves, they were outsiders and that frightened the town immensely. So far, Daniel had seen six of the accused burned at the stake, and each one had burned as any human would. If they were truly a practicer of dark magic, could they not save themselves? 

Daniel was currently sitting on a bench inside their church, watching the line of accusers slowly diminish as each person offered up a name. It was part of Daniel’s responsibility to write the names given and who gave each name. It truly was as boring as it sounded, but he did it nonetheless. Once it got to the end of the line, four people huddled together, Daniel braced for their words. It was never a good sign to have so many accusers together. Whatever name they gave, would surely be punished. 

“We were down near the entrance of the wood to collect lumber for fires as the weather is becoming cold once more. We saw Philip Lester floating in the air and the grass, it was burning in a circle around him.” John Kyle told Daniel’s father who tensed visibly at the words. 

George Kyle, John’s younger brother stepped forward then, “He was quiet and still aside from moving his hands in ungodly ways. Moving his fingers as if he were playing a piano and then he was mumbling words we could not understand. The devil’s language, it had to be! We was stuck in place, he had us under a spell he did!”

“And then we heard a growl, nothing like no bear or human. Nothing I heard before.” Lincoln Fisher added, “I thought we was going to die. We was finally able to move and one of us stepped on a twig and it snapped. Lester looked our way and laughed, Minister Howell, his eyes weren’t blue no more they was red as blood. The witch stayed in the air and told us to run away, so we did.” 

Thomas Corwin, the oldest of the group of men stepped forward, “he did no harm to us as much as we can tell. But he is a witch for sure and for certain. We took the time to get our lumber and Lester ignored us and continued his dark magic. Heard the growl again we did and then he was gone completely. The burnt grass still is there, we checked.” 

Daniel sat on the bench, writing the names with a shaky fist. No, they had to be lying. Not Philip, not his Philip. No, he couldn’t be a witch or anything of the sort. Philip Lester was kind, giving, and overall goodhearted. He would never hurt even a mouse that got into his home. Daniel had seen him carrying even spiders outside rather than crushing them. No, not his Philip. 

Minister Howell glanced at his son, worry etching into his features. If what was said was true, Philip would have to be burned. Too much evidence was against him already. If the grass was burned like the men had said, he would not be able to do anything to save Philip. He pulled his coat on and followed the men out of the church, only pausing for a moment to look at Daniel. 

“Daniel, son, I am going to see if the grass is burned. If it is, Philip will be put on trial and burned at the stake. I know that you plan to warn him and send him away. Please do not get yourself hurt.” Minister Howell mumbled before walking out the doorway completely. 

Daniel stood up quickly, throwing the papers of names down onto the bench before running as fast as he could to the Lester’s home. He would convince Philip to run. Philip was a smart man, he must know what kind of trouble he would be in if he stayed. He would die. He knew Philip had the ability to leave, so he must. Daniel would make sure of it. 

He pushed the door open quickly, running smack into Philip as he entered the house, Philip didn’t seem surprised to see his friend, not even confused. Almost like he was expecting a visit. Philip had a pair of trousers in his hands, having been helping his mother mend them. 

“Hello there, why are you running? You don’t run.” Philip joked, setting the trousers down and letting Daniel into the small home. 

Daniel tried to catch his breath, “Philip. You must leave. You have been accused of witchery. You must leave.”

Philip smiled at Daniel’s words, “Oh. Though, what if I be a witch? They could not kill me. I will not burn.” he said simply. 

“Philip, please. You know these trials are unfair. There is a lot against you, you will be killed. I do not want you to die. Please, leave this town so that you may live.” Daniel begged, tears filling his eyes in his desperation.

His friend smiled again, “Daniel. You need not worry. I will not be killed. It will be fine. Trust me.”

Daniel paced the small house anxiously, trying and failing to understand his friend’s thought process, “Why won’t you leave this place, Philip? Even if you were a witch, why would you not just leave and save yourself the trouble?” He demanded, standing directly in front of his friend. 

Philip huffed and looked directly into Daniel’s eyes. His blue eyes flickered to a strange, almost yellow color for just a split second, so quick that Daniel couldn’t be sure that he really saw it. Philip squeezed his best friend’s shoulders gently. 

“Daniel, if I were to run. The townsfolk would surely know that you came to warn me, yes? No one else would. You would be punished for my disappearance. You of all people should understand my motive, I do not wish for you to be hurt, especially on my account.” Philip explained, a soft chuckle escaping from his throat. 

Daniel blinked twice before pulling his hat off of his head and sighing, understanding that Philip was right. If he was accused of helping a witch, he would surely be punished. Imprisoned if he was lucky, but most likely he would be killed. Though his father would surely try to put a stop to it, even someone as admired as Minister Howell would be ignored when it came to witchery. 

“So, what now then?” Daniel asked quietly, looking down at his friend solemnly, “They will be here soon. Any moment now they will be here and take you away. I can get you the nicer imprisonment room, the one with a haybed. But I can not do much else.”

Philip smiled, pulling his coat on carefully before sliding his gloves on as well. His gloves had been made lovingly by his mother just a few weeks prior, as it was getting cold outside again. “Just allow me to say goodbye to my parents. The mob will be here soon.”

Daniel nodded slowly and watched as his friend walked into the back room of the house where they would often sleep at night. It had a nice fireplace with a pot of soup cooking slowly. It smelled delectable and made Daniel’s stomach rumble. Without thinking too hard about it, Daniel followed his friend into the room.

“Mother, father. I have been found out. They will be here quite soon. Please, keep yourselves safe. I will not die, but I will not be able to come back, at least not anytime soon. I love you both dearly. Daniel, you will treat them like family as always, yes?” Philip asked without turning around, startling Daniel. 

The brunette nodded quickly at Philip’s words, watching silently as Mrs and Mr Lester hugged their son goodbye. Mrs. Lester was crying quietly while Mr. Lester mumbled words of good tidings. Daniel could not understand their calmness. Was his friend truly a witch?

Just moments after the goodbyes, the mob knocked angrily at the door. Philip chuckled and walked to the front of the house, opening the door carefully. 

“Philip Michael Lester, you have hereby been accused as a wretched witch, we must take you to trial at once.” Minister Howell explained with sadness in his brown eyes.

Philip nodded and held out his wrists so that they could tie him with the ropes, dragging him roughly out of the place that he would no longer be able to call home. Daniel followed hopelessly behind the crowd, kicking a stray pinecone with his foot. His stomach felt heavy and his heart was thumping angrily inside his chest. There was simply nothing that he could do to save his friend.

The next morning, Daniel was sent to Philip’s holding room to collect him for the trial. Though he was timid and worried, shaking nervously about the fate of his friend; Philip seemed completely at ease. The bread that they had offered him for dinner the night before sat untouched on the floor, but Philip didn’t seem hungry. 

“Are you ready Philip?” Daniel asked softly, looking at his friend with sad eyes. He was silently begging him to flee and let Daniel deal with the consequences. Though he knew Philip better than that. 

Philip stood with a smile and a pep in his step, “Yes, Let’s get this over with, yes? The sooner this is over, the sooner everyone can move on.”

Daniel sighed, “Do you really not value your life? You mean so much to so many people Philip, your parents, my family… you mean more than life itself to me. And yet, you have not a care in the world about your own demise.” 

“I promise you I will not die, my friend. You must trust me, I know that is hard for you but I am not lying. I am a witch Daniel, I have been since before I was born. You will see.” Philip explained softly, “And just so you know, you mean just as much to me.” He whispered before walking out of the holding cell. 

Awhile later, Philip was standing in front of the town, calmly looking at the accusers in front of him. Minister Howell was standing directly in front of the man that was just as much his son as Daniel was. He felt nauseous, but he hid it well. He had to stay focused. 

“Philip, you have been accused on four counts of witchery! How do you plea?” Minister Howell asked sharply.

Philip smiled softly, “I am guilty. Let’s get on with it. I was in the wood practicing a spell that would turn me from man to beast, and I was successful by the way. Though I was interrupted quite rudely, I was successful.”

Minister Howell stuttered a bit. He had expected Philip to plead for his life, to apologize and say it was all a mistake. “So, you were performing dark magic in the wood? Why did you not harm the men who walked upon you?”

“Why would I harm them? They have a right to the wood just as well as I do. I thought of freezing them in place and running, but it felt cowardly so I released them. Now please, do get on with it or I might choose to harm them.” Philip explained, picking at his fingernails.

Daniel felt weak in his knees. Philip was actually going through with it. He was actually claiming to be a witch, but he wouldn’t beg. He wouldn’t apologize. Philip was threatening the townsfolk. 

Minister Howell gaped at the man in front of him for a moment before fixing his composure, “I hereby label thee a witch! Men prepare the stakes! He shall be burned today.” 

The crowd began to speak and bustle around, many folks heading outside to observe the setup. Philip wordlessly pulled his nice jacket off. It was lined with fur on the inside, and the outside was a flattering deep brown leather. Daniel bit back the pain that he felt in his heart as he approached his friend.

“Daniel, I would like for you to keep my jacket. We are the same size, so it shall fit you well. Make good use of it my friend.” Philip smiled, handing the jacket to Daniel gently.

Daniel stuttered, trying to figure out what to say, “I will miss you, Philip. Life will never be the same without you. Hopefully, we will meet in heaven one day.” 

Philip chuckled, “I will miss you too my dear friend, though we will not meet in heaven. We will meet again someday.”

The brunette sighed sadly, “this is goodbye.” he whispered. He longed to hug his friend tightly as they did when they were young, but he knew that it would look strange to the onlookers.

As if Philip read his mind, he pulled Daniel into a tight hug with a hum. Daniel immediately melted into the soft embrace, feeling at ease for the first time in a long time. All too soon, the men pulled away from each other and some of the men in the town collected Philip, dragging him to be tied to the stakes.

“Yet another witch has been found in our town! Now, our homes may be safe, our children may be safe, and our wives may be safe! May our crops be blessed and our town be blessed by the almighty God! May our almighty God keep us safe and blessed, away from the Devil’s wrongdoings!” Minister Howell yelled, standing in front of Philip who was now tied by rope to the stakes. 

Behind him, Philip laughed, “Might I say, the town was safer with me in it Minister Howell. Now, there are only truly devilish witches. No one can save you now!”

Daniel who was at the front of the crowd shivered at his friend's words. Could that be true? Had Philip been protecting the town? He watched helplessly as two men from the town threw lit wads of cloth onto the stakes, onto Philip. 

“Burn witch, burn!” Someone yelled out, clapping their hands as Philip was engulfed in flames.

Daniel bit back tears, watching the fire surround his dearest friend. However, the fire didn’t seem to be bothering Philip at all. If he didn’t know any better, he would think that the fire wasn’t touching the man. Daniel could smell the familiar scent of burning hair and flesh, but Philip wasn’t screaming of flailing. He just stood there, looking bored. 

“What in the hell is happening?” A man asked, looking at Minister Howell. 

The crowd began to speak loudly all at once, confused and angry yells occasionally penetrating the air. Daniel made eye contact with Philip nervously, focusing on his bright blue eyes. They seemed to be glowing, almost completely silver.

Philip winked at Daniel, “Goodbye everyone! Do not miss me, as I will not miss many of you. Those who I love, do not forget me!” He yelled before completely disappearing, the fire completely going out. 

“What?!” Someone yelled, the entire crowd erupting into pure chaos. No one knew what to do, how to feel, or what to believe. They had just seen real witchcraft. They had finally tried to burn a real witch. 

Daniel stood off to the side, tears burning in his brown eyes, “Goodbye Philip.” he whispered. 

~~~

Three years later, Daniel was standing next to his bedridden wife with worry etched into his brow. She had given birth to their third child, a son that they named Michael after Daniel’s best friend. It was a difficult birth and had taken a severe toll on Martha. She had fallen ill quickly, seemingly overnight; and the town doctors were no help.

Daniel kneeled at her bedside, gently stroking her deep blonde hair that was laden with sweat. He helped her drink a cup of water, praying to God that she would be able to keep it down this time. She was suddenly riddled with a cough that shook her body so harshly, so painfully, that she burst into tears. 

“Daniel… Daniel my love, I am dying. I can not hold on any longer.” Martha whispered, looking up at her husband with dull blue eyes. She looked so weak.

Daniel shook his head quickly, “No dear, no, hold on. Please? God can heal you if our doctors can not. Stay, for me. For our babies. Please?” He sobbed, holding her pale hands gently in his own.

Since the last witch trial in the town, since Philip was able to escape the burning stakes unharmed and without explanation. The town of Salem had given up their witch trials, having finally realized that almost everyone that they had killed or punished was an innocent human. Not long after Philip had disappeared from the flames, Daniel and Martha became close.

Martha had been the only one in the town to bother to console Daniel after he lost his friend. It was at that moment that Daniel realized how kind and how beautiful the young woman before him was. They married just after Christmas in 1693. They had two girls now, Isabella and Mercy. Dan had wanted a boy from the beginning, but he loved his daughters with all his heart. However, when Martha gave birth to a healthy baby boy just a week prior, he had felt so much love and pride.

Now, he felt guilty for wanting the very child who Martha birthed, as the birth made her so ill. He blamed himself, but Martha told him he was being unfair to himself. He wanted to believe her, but he just couldn’t.

As soon as Martha’s mother came to keep an eye on her daughter and grandchildren, Daniel excused himself to go and grab some lumber for the fireplace. He pulled on the very jacket that his dear friend had gifted him years ago and escaped into the wood with his axe.

Tears filled his brown eyes before he even made it completely into the wood, and though he wanted to be embarrassed; he couldn’t find the energy to care. The love of his life was dying, and he couldn’t do anything about it. Every doctor had given the same prognosis; death. They all told him to keep her as comfortable as he could and find a way to take care of their children. Daniel knew that both of their families would step up to help, but he didn’t want it to come to that. 

A sudden loud shuffling behind him startled him out of his worries, making him grab his axe as a way to defend himself. Whatever was moving around had to be very large, as it moved through the brush with ease. Daniel glared in the direction of the sound.

“Whoever or whatever you are. Trust me, you do not wish to mess with me today. I am in no mood to play.” Daniel growled, slamming his axe into some wood to prove his point. 

To his surprise, he heard a familiar laugh, “that’s not the way I would expect to be greeted by my dearest friend after so many years.” 

Daniel gasped, “Phi-Philip? No… It can’t be.”

Philip walked from behind the brush and opened his arms out for his friend. Daniel ran into his arms quickly, melting once more into the embrace. It was like Philip was able to hold him together when he was truly breaking apart. 

“I came as soon as I heard that your wife is ill. I wanted to be here sooner, but I needed to make my potion first.” Philip whispered, pulling a small vial of purple liquid from his pants pocket.

Daniel sniffled and looked at his friend. It was clearly Philip, though his hair was shaggier and he had a bit of scruff on his chin. His nails were longer than they used to be and he was shirtless despite the cold weather. Daniel slowly took the vial of liquid and looked into his friend’s eyes. They were their normal blue color, the color that reminded Daniel of clear skies. 

“You… you’re able to heal her? But the doctors said there’s nothing we can do…” Daniel mumbled, still clinging to Philip. He should have already moved away, but he needed comfort. 

Philip smiled softly, “Yes. I can heal her in ways that they can not. I hear you named your son after me, I am honored, Daniel. I want all five of you to live healthy and fulfilling lives. This potion will save her life. I have a potion for you as well, to bring you luck. I want you to never question where you might get your next meal from or whether you can afford things for your family. This potion can do that.” He explained, pulling another vial from his pocket. 

Daniel took the second vial gently, looking at the orange liquid curiously, “you want to save my family? Even after I let them burn you. I should’ve done more to save you.” He whispered, finally pulling away from the hug. 

“I didn’t need you to save me, but you tried anyway. Thank you for that Daniel. I have to leave soon, I probably shouldn’t be here. Please, never forget me. Have Martha drink the purple potion and you drink the orange one.” Philip explained again, looking at Daniel with soft eyes. 

Daniel nodded slowly, “Is this the final goodbye?” He asked timidly

“For this lifetime, I am afraid so. But I promise to see you in many other lives. One more hug?” Philip asked, opening his arms.

Without a second thought, Daniel buried himself in Philip’s embrace. He felt at ease once more, more than he did before. Philip came to help Martha, to help Daniel and his family. He didn’t deserve someone like Philip. The world didn’t deserve someone like Philip. 

All too soon, the hug ended and Philip smiled before running further into the forest, a sudden howl breaking the quietness of the trees. Had Philip turned into a beast? Daniel shook his head quickly, turning back to his axe to start chopping the wood. Only, the wood was sat in stacks, already chopped nicely for the fireplace. Daniel chuckled to himself and picked up the logs carefully. 

Just days later, after Daniel had given the potion to Martha and taken his own potion, things had gone very much back to normal. Martha was as healthy as ever, running about with their daughters, nursing their son, and cooking dinner. Daniel was catching animals for food more easily than ever and he would even give some to his family and Martha’s. He was also always sure to give food to the Lesters so that they never had to go without. His sudden luck and her sudden good health were now the talk of the town. 

“He must be a witch!” An older woman accused when he walked by with his family. 

“Oh leave the boy alone. He must be blessed by God.” Her husband argued. 

Others in the town who remembered Philip Lester well were sure that Philip must’ve saved Daniel and his family. 

“I suppose Philip Lester chose to come back to save his best friend.” One young man said with a shrug as a group of friends talked about it. 

“Would Philip really put himself out there, out in danger just to help his friend? Is Howell really worth all that?” A girl asked with a snicker. 

The same young man shrugged, “when you love someone, you do crazy, dangerous things.”

Daniel heard all of the whispers and the confusion of how he was as blessed as he was. He took every comment in stride. He knew that Philip would do anything for him, even now. He would do the same for Philip too, but there wasn’t much he could do for his dear friend now. Maybe in the next lifetime.

[sakurachan7734]

My ocs as dead by daylight survivors and killers part 2

Sally shockstin: survivor

Linda cohen: survivor

The electrifying ghost/Zachary shockstin:killer

Sally shockstins backstory

Sally previously known as Sam until she was about 15 was born into a Jewish family her mother a writer and a android her father a rabbi at their local synagogue on her 7th birthday her parents died in a horrific housefire caused by his uncle which led her to having severe burns on her face and body a so severe that she stayed in the hospital for about a year once she was out, she was adopted by her aunt Linda cohen where she lived a couple years later on her 18th birthday she decide to go take a walk downtown to a local mall for her and her girlfriend Kim to do some shopping but before she get there a mysterious fog appeared and picked her up no never heard from Sally again.

Linda cohens backstory

Working as a well respect a doctor at a hospital for years and had what she thought was a loving husband Zachary shockstin, Linda couldn’t ask her anything more but that night changed everything she was devastated at the loss of her little sister Angelina shockstin and her brother-in-law Zach shockstin not wanting Sally who was Sam at the time to go up for adoption or foster care system once she was out of the hospital so she adopted her and treated her like she was her own child one night she was working a late night shift at the hospital when a patient who was pronounced dead on the spot came back to life and Started attacking her just as when she was about to call somebody the patient had claws coming out his back that pulled her into a mysterious realm.

Zach shockstins backstory 

He always been jealous his brother for reasons unknown but one night he just poured gasoline all around his brothers house and set it a blaze Linda somehow got out with very little burns snd they got into a massive fight which ended in divorce and the police called Zach was given the death sentence which that day came very fast, he was sent this to death by hanging but his soul couldn’t rest yet he wanted Linda and Sally dead too and he will stop at nothing on the day of his death he was hanged and once everyone had left the room a black smoke came out and took him to the realm as a ghost

Sally shockstins perks

Gut feeling

You aways have your guard up since that fire and you can sense danger nearby

Once the killer is 20 meters away from you you’ll start hearing the breathing or any other noise coming of the killing you’re going to against 

Android instinct

Like your mother you are also an android and are able to tell when something is half done

If more than one generators are 30% complete, you will be able to see their auras in white and anybody who is working on them 

Not today!

You know how to avoid danger when it is near you

If you are injured and unhooking a survivor and the killer hits you while this action is being performed you will become deeply wounded and when you heal yourself from the deeply wounded state your groans of pain will become louder and your pools blood will be much bigger 

Linda cohens perks

Doctors help

You have been in the medical field for about 26 years now and you know all about how to heal the human body 

This perk activates whenever somebody is injured reviewing their order to you until you heal them yourself if a survivor heals the injured one this perk deactivate when you heal someone the healing process is 50% faster without a med kit 

keep your eyes peeled

Even though you’re blind in one eye you still know how to keep a good eye on everybody around you

This perk activates whenever the killer is 20 meters from you revealing their aura for three seconds

Stay safe

You’re still deeply troubled by your sister’s death but that is also a motivation for you to make sure that you protect everyone around you, including your niece

At the beginning of the trial every survivor is aura is revealed to you for 10 seconds but you area is revealed to the killer as well

Zachery shockstins perks and power

Scourge hook: influence pain

Spurge hooks will be spread out across the map their auras will be highlighted in white when you hook a survivor on one of the scourge hook any survivor near you will scream revealing their position 

Entity’s calling

You want to see the world burn down with everyone on it

This perk actives when you kick 5 generators you can call the entity to block every generator in the trial

Hex: family bond

The thought of your family makes your blood boil and you want of them gone even if you are dead

This perk activate at the beginning of the trial with all hex’s lit up anybody within 10 minutes of the hex is revealed to you for about five seconds 

Power: shock waves

In order to use power you have to charge up all the way and instead of of shock the survivors the generators getting inflicted with the shocks and whenever a survivor interacts with it they will get shocked by it and the more gens they touch the more they will scream and reveal their aura the more generates you kick the more electric shock they will gain 

Sally’s default cosmetic

Sally shockstin(head): beautiful gray to yellow hair with a bit of black in the front put into long braids with a daisy hat

Daisy cardigan(torso): a light yellow cardigan and with a plush bag to carry all of her items and a silver star of David necklace 

Flower dress top(free torso cosmetic); she had decided to take her cardigan off because it was starting to get hot

Flower dress skirt(legs): a almost floor length pastel orange skirt with green ribbon on the bottom

Prestige cosmetic

Bloody Sally(head): long curly hair in long braids now covered in blood and now her makeup is ruined

Blood stained cardigan(torso): her favorite bag and cardigan now very dirty it’s about time for laundry

Bloody skirt(legs): a almost floor length pastel orange skirt with green ribbon is now ruined by her own blood

Linda cohens default cosmetic

Linda cohen(head): a well respected doctor who is blind in one eye due to the fire

Doctors coat(torso): a long clean white doctors coat with a lavender colored shirt with a dark purple tie

Black jeans(legs): all though good for work not very good for running especially while you are wearing slip on shoes 

Prestige cosmetic 

Bloody Linda(head): a well respected doctor of course this isn’t the first time she’s covered in blood 

Bloody doctors coat(torso): that Clean white coat is now covered in blood which is gonna be impossible to get out

Bloody jeans(legs): her favorite jeans are now bloody and it’s even more difficult to run in 

Zachary shockstins default cosmetic

Zachary shockstin(head): a man who was jealous of his brothers perfect life and decided to do a horrific act

Orange jumpsuit (body): his prison uniform with some rubble around his neck he wore it for one year until his death 

Combat knife(weapon): a knife that he kept in his dresser drawer so his wife wouldn’t find it

Prestige cosmetic

Bloody Zachary(head): a jealous man who took the life of his brother and his wife but failed to kill her sister and his niece

Bloody orange jumpsuit(body): a once orange jumpsuit now covered in the blood of the innocent 

Bloody combat knife(weapon): he was going to go after Sally and Linda if the police hadn’t caught him

Legendary linked cosmetic for linda: Angelina shockstin

Cosmetic description: a well known writer in her state but her life was cut short

Angelina shockstin(head): a loved sister, wife and mother

dusty pink Top(torso): the top of a beautiful floor length dress that her sister gifted her on her wedding day

Dusty pink skirt(legs): very different to run in due to the fact it’s floor length and she is wearing pump heels 

Legendary linked cosmetic for Sally: Zach shockstin

Cosmetic description: a Jewish man who loved his family more than anything but like his wife his life was cut short

Zach shockstin(head): a loved friend, brother and father

Suit top(torso): a normal black suit jacket with a white button-down shirt

Suit pants(legs): not the best for running in, but it’s the only thing he has to wear

Dialogue for when Sally is in a lobby with either Kim Linson, Linda cohen, Angelina or Zach shockstin

Dialogue with Kim

“Oh my goodness I am so happy to see you babe!” -Kim Linson

“Me to I have missed you so much!” -Sally shockstin

___________

“Let’s go and try to get out of here”-Kim Linson

“Don’t worry we will”-Sally shockstin

Dialogue with Linda translated from Hebrew to English

“ sally do you know what’s going on?”-Linda cohen

“ I don’t know auntie but don’t panic we will try and find a way out”- Sally shockstin

_____________

“ are you ok Sally? Do you need any medicine attention?”- Linda cohen

“No I’m fine auntie”-Sally shockstin

“Good”-Linda cohen

Sally’s with either Angelina or Zach shockstin translator from Hebrew to English

“ y-your here to?!”-Sally shockstin

“Yes we are dear”- Angelina shockstin

“ are you alive or still a ghost?”-Sally shockstin

“ we are still ghosts darling but we can touch stuff without possessing it”-Zach shockstin

Zachary shockstins voice lines when preferring a mori

To Sally

“ you want to be with your parents so bad?! You can join them!!” - Zachary shockstin

To Linda

“ till death do us part remember Linda?”- Zachary shockstin

To Zach shockstin

“ I killed you once and I will kill you again!”

To Angelina shockstin

“ sorry miss Angelina looks like you won’t see your sister again”

New map: burnt down memories

Dreamers human form will be next 













[fazscare87]

Fazbear World: Remnant (4/?)

What is, Remnant?...

William, at first wasn’t quite sure what Remnant was or what it did to his body, he tried to research it, but he couldn’t find anything on it, and he of course wasn’t going to ask or tell anyone about it of course, so, he decided to make his own research. He found that Remnant is connected to the human soul. It can either be seen as a wisp-like shape, or a liquid, but most of the time it was seen as a wisp/orb-like shape. Remnant, like the soul, is invisible to the human eye, but not to William. Not only can he perfectly see it, but he can also interact with it, or more specifically, take them. While others that were born on the same day as William when the eclipse happened, they could see them too when someone died, but rarely went towards it, let alone kill someone or go towards their corpse to get it, and after some time they’d lose the ability to see the Remnant, but William never did. William learned over time that it’d give him miraculous abilities. He could inherit someone’s lifespan and it’d add to his, extending his life. He particularly found that remnant from children was the best result for him, mainly because a child had so long to live. It could grant him a heightened intelligence, though he’d only use it when he was planning things out, as he already saw himself as intelligent. Still, it did help him create outstanding things. Things that would be considered “futuristic” at the time and even today, one of them being an “Illusion Disk”, a small device that can alter the appearance of whatever it was attached to. There were a few more side effects of the remnant in William’s body, like enhanced strength, not superhuman strength or anything like that mind you, but still pretty strong despite his appearance, enhanced durability, and enhanced eyesight and hearing. But William’s favorite side-effect of Remnant was its rapid healing ability, able to heal him of any injury, no matter how severe or “fatal” it was, and as stated, it healed fast, cut himself? The scar is gone and healed in an instant, broke a bone? It’ll reconstruct itself quickly and the pain will heal in about a week with no aid whatsoever, cut off a finger? It’ll just reattach itself like nothing. He also realized it granted him near “immortality”, meaning even if someone was to shoot him in the head or stab him in the heart he won’t die, albeit if the wound is deep or severe enough it’ll leave scars behind. On top of being able to see remnants, William also had the ability to see and hear ghosts/souls, mediumship in a way. None of them could physically interact with each other of course, but he could still hear and see them, William considered it more of a nuisance than anything since if it was the ghost of a victim they might nag him or linger around him. At first he was distraught and even disturbed by this especially since he was the only one that could see and hear them, but after some time, he found their presence to be very irritating, he eventually found a way to drown them out and stop seeing them altogether, other than that William saw no other setbacks to the remnant. But there was one thing that could kill him, fire.

Fire and extreme heat weaken Remnant, causing it to rapidly lose its effect, this would actually kill William no matter how much Remnant he has in him. Here’s how it works, Remnant is sensitive to heat, and essentially “evaporates” from the body, no matter how much Remnant someone has inside them, it won't save them. Now, the Remnant can still be "saved" within a person if they keep moving or able to put themselves out, but if the host is burning to death, the Remnant will boil and "disintegrate" away from within the body, and if anything it makes it hurt even worse due to its reaction and with it keeping you alive for just a few moments longer. It still heal a burn wound depending on the severity, 1st-degree burns, the remnant can heal with no problem. 2nd Degree burns might take a bit, and it actually hurts to heal unlike any other wound, but it'll still do its job fairly well. 3rd-degree burns, depending on how serious it is, the Remnant would struggle to heal the burn, it might be healed and fully functional but it could be left disfigured and leave permeant scars the remnant can never heal, and just like 2nd-degree burns, it will hurt to heal, but the pain could be even more severe. 4th degree burns, there is nothing the Remnant can do. This is because if an area is badly burned, it actually prevents the Remnant from getting the entirely since it's almost like cauterizing. In fact, normally with a severed limb, the Remnant will reattach the limb from the blood, and reconnect the flesh, muscle, bone and all, making it fully functional. But if you were to lose a limb and the wound was fully cauterized before the remnant could heal it, that limb is permanently lost and can never be recovered, even if you got desperate and made an incision, the remnant can't help. With this knowledge, William gained a fear of 2 things ever since. Fire, though it should be noted he’s fine around fireplaces and bonfires, but a bit careful around bonfires, The other fear, was going to Hell because knew he was going straight there when he died, and there wasn’t a thing he could do to save himself, he already damned himself. It should be noted that each time he used the remnant/its powers, some of it faded, over time he’d slowly lose the remnant, or when he used it, dying especially takes a huge portion of Remnant. It should that there aren’t any withdrawal like syndromes from a Lack of Remnant of William feels low on it, there was no voices telling him to kill anyone, and no mental illnesses, William was fully aware of his actions, the consequences, and how it affected others around him, he knew that he never had to take this path, and knew he’d burn in Hell if he ever died. He did it all anyway, with no remorse or intentions to change whatsoever, not because he knew there was no going back, he did it just for the Hell of it, not to mention his sadistic enjoyment.

[aka-indulgence]

(1) Hi! I just finished the current chapters of AMitS and I love it~ And I got this weird scenario in my head and wondered about something. After chapter 6 where MC escapes and Sans finds out about. What would happen if he saw her walking down the street with another man and later find out that it was her older bro who had gotten worried sick once she disappeared and wont leave her side even for a sec.

(Ah, you sweet thing- it’s no problem, this is a very interesting ask! Also, I’m going to assume you mean reader’s brother belongs to his own gang? Thank you and thank you for reading, I’m happy you like my works! ;;w;)

This answer became pretty long- I got hooked onto the idea! Also there are brief threats of violence is in here, so be careful!

It’s been… Awhile since he last saw her, and Sans is losing his mind, thinking where she could have gone, where she could’ve run off to- where is his girl?!

While he walks through the streets with a pissed-off look to his face, his red eyelights dangerously dim as he lumbers on, he sees her- walking down the streets, gripping onto the coat of a taller man. He… He recognizes him, a member of another gang, a human gang that he has met and had struggles with- his arms were wrapped around his lady-

He almost breaks then and there- almost teleporting to what he assumed was someone who thought they could have his baby- when he stops to look again, seeing her cling onto him tightly, and when he snoops closer to listen in on their conversation, your eyes swimming- he hears it. “Brother.” “Sister.”

… He was your brother?!

Oh yeah, he still has powerful urges to not only kill this guy who has you in his arms, but also a member of a rival gang- but he doesn’t. He knows how it’s like with his own family… Too important for him to just get rid of family. He can’t take him away from you..

… But he could take you away from him.

In all honesty, he’s not a bad guy, he just wants to keep you safe…

… But that’s Sans’ job now.

He’ll confront him in front of you, knowing that the brother that seemed to care so much for your well being wouldn’t want to show violence to you, after hearing you panic and cry at the memory (on his behalf)… Your brother knows who he is, both in the business and out- with his little case with you. He’s going put a hard front, already used to confronting people like Sans, putting you in a protective hold and reaching for a weapon to hold against Sans- but he’s already one step ahead, a floating bone right next to his head, ready to let it go through- more bones slowly appearing around him when you and him notice, and your brother freezes.

Of course, Sans wanted to kill this guy. But you… With your wide eyed look and terrified stare, full of worry for your brother… He can’t do it because of you. He wouldn’t be bluffing otherwise.

… But neither of you knew that.

Sans is going to threaten to let them fly if you aren’t going to be hand back to him. He counts.

“one.”

You looked at your brother.

“two.”

He freezes- he doesn’t know what to do.

“thr-”

Before Sans could finish the last number, you’ve pulled yourself out of your brother’s hold, shouting that you’ll go to him, that you’ll stay with him willingly this time. Sans smiles. Your brother is shocked. Sans doesn’t take away the bones, opening his arms with a huge, cruel grin on his face as you walk fearfully towards him, willingly, into his arms as he wraps them around you as soon as you were in reach. He holds you close to his chest and he looks back at your brother- who was now held by his red magic from him about to whip out something to throw at Sans.

He warns him.

“you wouldn’t want your dear little sister to get in trouble because of you, would you?” He’d ask, stroking a phalange down your cheek down to your chin lovingly, his eyelights trained at the top of your head- he knows your brother couldn’t move with his magic on him like that.

He tells him not to look for you anymore, that he’ll “take care of her.”

In a blink of an eye, both you and Sans had disappeared into a cloud of red smoke, the magic and bones leaving your brother without a trace- left alone without his sister again.

[bolilloquemad0]

The last one just has FULLED MY TANK OF INSPIRATION and I have to use it. (English is not my first language soooo it may be fucked up)

--------------------------------

Mikey had always been talented. Since very little. It was one of those little things that were true and nobody could denied it.

True like the sun always rising. Even if you can't see it.

Mikey had always loved his family deeply. He would do everything in his power just to assure that they'll be happy and safe. It was another truth. One that had been proved every time.

His chains and fire only would burn those that dared to harm his family. And they will feel like hell.

One of his favorites truths was that Mikey has a Soulmate. Miles Morales. Kind of a mutant but still a human.

Draxum told him that Soulmates were something weird, not in the concept but to happen, not many yokais had Soulmates and the very few who had one not always found them. It was something beyond knowledge. Something almost divine. Two souls created just with the purpose to fulfill a live and a destiny with someone else. Someone the universe had created and chosen just for you. A Soulmate was a partner for the rest of your life.

A match with a human and a half mutant half yokai, was one in a million. To say that Mikey and Miles were lucky enough to meet was something that fulled the turtle to the brim with love, and hope, and determination to keep protecting and fighting.

They both knew eachother soon after the invasion. When cities where still some kind of cities, and existed a division between humans and yokais or mutants. The sky was still blue and the world was in despair.

Then, he and his family started the resistance. Not just to survive, but to fight. For the world that were theirs, for their people, for their families, for their future. And the one Miles always added, for love.

And then, they become Masters and Commanders.

Master Michelangelo was very strong, and powerful, and wise, and kind. The resistance always looked up to him. To his brothers. And he was proud of being a light of hope in a dark world and darker future.

But also, he had been the youngest of his family for a very long time. He didn't know what was not having his family near. He never felt alone until the Krang.

And his father was the first. Hamato Yoshi. Lou Jitsu. Splinter. His father.

His. Father.

They still had the greatest weapon. Hope.

He still had his brothers, April and Miles.

With the lesson learned, Mikey began to train more and more. His mystics had always been more powerful than his brothers, so it was natural to him to focus on that. Thanks to the training Mikey discovered how worked his link with Miles.

Being two parts of a same core, soul, and heart, they shared a lot of things. One was his ninpo.

Miles, since becoming Spiderman, got the abillity to, let's say, electrify his webs. He could even make a whole network of spider webs completely electrified. Turns out, it was nothing to do with radioactive spiders or mutagen, but with Mikey's ninpo and their link.

They shared the mystic. The ninpo.

When they found out and started working in deepend the conexion, nothing was the same. They could use eachother abilities with ease even being away. Miles could burn things with his webs and Mikey could fry krang dogs with his chains.

The most powerful duo in battlefield. And also out of it. Orange and webs were a symbol of strength.

When Raph... left them, blinded by sorrow and rage, Mikey forced his flames to burn and destroy the bio-shits that the krang and their organism was. Mikey forced his ninpo to be more destructive.

Master Michelangelo and Commander Miles where one of the few thing that could actually kill the pink bastards. But not always worked. Donnie told him, as a teory, that sharing his mystic with Miles was the reason. Cause the core of his power was feeding two things at the same time.

It maked sense. But it didn't changed things. They were still losing, the planet was still dying, people were still dying and the krang were just getting stronger and fierly.

Things worsened day by day, but he still had Donnie and Leo, April, Casey jr, and Miles.

----------------------

Part two, pretty soon (maybe)

:D✌️ 🧡🐢❤️🕷

I think we as a society are missing out on the potential of shellshocked soulmate AUs.

I do not know why I enjoy this trope so much because I think in a lot ways it's pretty allo-and heteronormative and I do not in any way believe in soulmates irl but it is interesting to explore in fiction, I guess.

After that completly unnessecary ramble, here are some cute suggestions I would love to have fics about:

-a classic "what I draw on my skin, appears on mine, too" soulmate AU

Fits them both perfectly, they would have been in contact since they were small but can't meet each other because Mikey's a mutant.

-painsharing between soulmates AU

Mikey's dangerous lifestyle as a TMNT would lead to a lot hurts that Miles has to suffer, too. Yay! Angsty, I guess. Miles would worry a lot about his soulmate in this one. (Maybe, it would even work better if it's a Raised By Draxum AU)

-This isn't really a seperate soulmate AU trope but the return of Mystic Miles.

So, because soulmates share oftentimes literally in these AUs souls and we say that Mikey's mystic come from his soul, would that mean Miles would be just as mystically talented as Mikey? Like, in this case, it's not only Hamato ninpō Miles would get but like all of Mikey's mystic badassery.

Fun angsty twist to the whole thing: When Future!Miles dies in the bad timeline, Mikey gets stronger in mystics because he now has all of his mystic potential for himself. Yayyyy

So yeah, shellshocked soulmate AU, my dudes. Fun stuff.

[swallowtailcherry]

🔱Near Perfection🔱

Poseidon x Human!Reader

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I read an ask related to this, but I couldn't find it. I think Tumblr ate it up or smth ;-;

Welp, have this absolute mess :D

The sounds of waves crashing down on the sand and the breeze cooling you down was comforting to you. Taking in the scent of the sea, a sigh fell from your lips. The sun shining down gave you some comfort from what happened a few hours ago, when you had attended one of your family reunions.

It went on like the ones before, most of your relatives mocking you and talking behind your back for lacking emotions. Coming from a family of magic users, they had high expectations for you, being the second born of the family. But after discovering you lacked several key points of those expectations, they slowly left you in the shadows of your other siblings.

Not that you cared anyways.

You never cared about their ridiculous ways of thinking, or then in general. You don't even know why you even bothered going if it will end up being the same thing.

The thought of your family irked you, causing the sand from underneath you to heat up and slowly turn to glass. You got up from the sand, walking to some rocks where the waves just barely reach the top of the rocks. You sat down in front of the water, placing your hand in the water. Although you were unable to smile, you felt your heart race from happiness from the cold water.

As soon as you pulled hand out of the water, the water swirled around and a man emerged from the water.

You didn't jump back from shock or fear. You just stared up at the man, whose eyes burned into your soul.

"Ah. Greetings, Poseidon." You greeted the god with your usual blunt tone. The god didn't respond to your greeting, but instead stepped on the rocks, his trident in his hand.

"Why do you come here?"

The blonde god went straight to the point. Truthfully, he was aware of your daily visits to the beach, but never paid much attention to it. But slowly, he picked little bits of what was happening to you from your grumbling. That your family are even lower than scum and how you were mistreated and outcasted by them.

"Why would you care? I thought you gods hate us humans." You grumbled, trying to scoot away from the god. Poseidon didn't speak after that. He knew you were right. But right now, his hatred for your so called family grows more.

"You are correct, but your family are lower than scum." Poseidon hissed at the word family. You finally turned your head to the god, your bored eyes gazing into his sea blue ones.

"Glad someone agrees with me. Yeah, my family's a bunch of shitheads in over their heads." You growled out, your fingers gripping the rock and cracked it. Poseidon tapped his trident twice to get your full attention, which worked on his end.

"You shouldn't associate with them no more. They are beneath you." His words caught you off guard. You never expected such a stoic god like Poseidon to tell you this. But it felt strangely comforting.

"I... You're right. I shouldn't go near them." You agreed with Poseidon. The latter got back into the water, not giving you a goodbye, as expected. You watched the god disappear into the water, leaving you by yourself, on the rocks.

For the first time in your life, a smile appeared on your face. 

Meanwhile, Poseidon made his way back to his kingdom, his thought of you in his mind. The thought of you, a mere mortal, catching his interest. He originally thought all humans were nothing but worthless bottom feeders. But you...

You were near perfection. Something he will fix in the future.

___________

I feel like I messed up Poseidon again. Also one of the first few to be written more than once! (On my end, anyways)

But Poseidon is kinda fun to write about

[tiaetherealness]

Heaven Can Wait

Pairing: Rengoku Kyoujuro x fem!reader

Warnings: SFW, angel reader, mentions of God, since it sounded more natural than everything else I thought of lol, Mugen Train Arc, he lives don't worry, mentions of Blood and injury, Kamado and the gang is there, slow burn

WC: 4,106

Author's Note: I haven't posted something in a long ass time so hey! I've actually already posted this on ao3, then remembered I have this account 😭 here you go! I hope you enjoy this sfw piece <3

Part 1 of Gods Amongst Men

Your thoughts always come back to why you wander about the countryside. Perhaps you’re searching for a means to an end, or to find a piece of yourself that has departed once you spent decades amongst humans. You often find yourself staring at the large expanse of the sky, watching the clouds drift by, waiting and watching for a sign that points you back home. The ground hasn’t always been your home, but you were forced to make roots once God ordered you to roam amongst humans. You miss the sky, deeply. But you can’t go back until told to. 

So, you wonder. Watch as the locals live their lives and live amongst the rules they created. Watch the sky turn from a bright azure, to a blossoming orange, then to a dark navy speckled with stars. The sky may be your home, but the ground has endless beauty as well. 

Sometimes, the beauty you've admired gets tainted by evil beings. Demons. 

You’ve encountered plenty throughout your journey. They were mostly confused by your presence, knowing that you’re not human but definitely not demon either. Some either left you alone completely, or they attacked to figure out what you are. The latter decides their fate, facing the end of their lives once they’re subjected to your powers. They may be beings of darkness, but you’re a being of light. And light is how they will perish. 

Eventually, you learn more about the demons and the people slaying them. They’re brave humans, protecting the rest of humanity from things seen in their wildest dreams. You’ve also encountered many slayers in your journey, but you silently watched from the sidelines. You’re not meant to get close, for them to catch a glimpse of your presence, or else. 

But when you see the three young demon slayers you’ve always encountered on your journey, you follow them aboard Mugen Train. 

You’ve become fond of Tanjiro, Zenitsu, and Inosuke. Watching their journey has been a heartfelt one compared to your monotone life of people watching. They’re brave and powerful young men who want to destroy the demons once and for all, and to protect the unprotected. Their souls are pure, not a drop of evil to corrupt them despite seeing evil their whole lives. 

Though you realize they sense out evil easily like you do, and the train is oozing out dark intent. 

The machine is filled with people, and you’re immediately uncomfortable with the noise and the motion. The humans barely spare you a glance, your concealment power working at an all time high to make it seem as if they saw nothing at all. Just a speck in their peripheral vision. You took an empty seat near the trio who was talking to someone, though you couldn’t see them. Once Zenitsu and Inosuke moved away, your heart skipped. 

He is the embodiment of fire, the intensity of a sunset. He's beautiful and so is his soul.

His red-orange eyes match his hair that brushes his chest. A genuine smile graces his face as he speaks to Tanjiro with a boisterous voice. Beside him in a smoky sheen is his mother who watches over him. She gives you a little bow once she notices you, and then continues to watch over her son. You learn that his name is Rengoku Kyoujuro, and he’s a demon slayer as well. A hashira, as Tanjiro told his friends. You don’t know exactly what a hashira is, but you have an idea that it's someone powerful enough to protect people. 

You observe Kyoujuro and his mannerism, seeing that he’s just as warm as he looks. He cares deeply about the young slayers and takes care of them like an older brother. He feeds them with the bentos he has and offers to take them under his wing to get stronger. Somehow in the conversation he has with Tanjiro, he turns directly to you. He made direct eye contact and he gave you a small smile. 

The action is harmless but you felt a sense of dread overcome your senses. Either he’s powerful enough to sense you or he's going to…

As soon as that thought pops up, everything goes wrong.

Demons start appearing on the train, causing the passengers to panic. Immediately, the slayers unsheathe their swords and made their move. Rengoku directed his attention to the passengers on the cart and whisked them away with speed, before coming back to face the demons. You stand at the back of the cart and watch as he kills the demons with his flame style, a burst of red and orange lighting up the cart. You watch in awe. He reminds you of the sky, your home that's so close yet so far. 

You took a step forward to get a closer glimpse, but a limb from the demon that encases the train darts towards you. You only had a moment to put your hand up to defend yourself, but Tanjiro cut the limb off. You both met eyes at that moment, and he gave you a nod before darting off. He sees you too…?

You stood back for a moment, thinking. Tanjiro must’ve noticed you the whole time but chose not to approach you because you clearly kept your distance. Somehow in this situation, your heart warms at the gesture. He would be a good angel. Maybe even better than you. 

Hearing a shout, you look in front of you to see everyone splitting up. Tanjiro and Inosuke went towards the front, Zenitsu stayed with the box that Tanjiro carries around, and Rengoku is heading towards you. You realized that you were standing in front of the door that leads to the train cars in the back. Your hands trembled slightly. Should you help them? Would you be punished if you do? 

“Please stand back. I’ll keep you safe!” Rengoku tells you. 

You move aside so that he can enter the next car that will inevitably be filled with demons. You watch as he pulls the door open and steps through with a confident gait. He seems so sure of himself, that he’ll exterminate the demons for good to protect the passengers left on the train. You felt a buzzing in your chest watching him go. It's a feeling that you haven’t felt for so long while wondering amongst the humans. Maybe you can break the rules and involve yourself in human affairs. Maybe…maybe you can protect people too. 

The air around you changed as you felt determination. You move from your spot and quickly follow after Rengoku, grabbing the ends of his haori that flowed as he walked. He stills when he feels the pull and glances back with a questioning glint in his eye. 

“I— I want to help!” You shouted unintentionally. 

He turns around, causing his haori to slip through your fingers. Your hands lay limp on your sides as you glance up at him. His expression is serious, a far cry from the one you observed earlier. 

“I refuse to let a civilian help me. You shouldn’t be in harm's way.”

Your hands curl into fist. “I will help, no matter what you say! I can defend myself and protect the civilians also!”

He moves closer, his face inches from yours. You stood still, watching and waiting for a signal. He stares straight into your eyes, searching for why. Why would a simple civilian sacrifice themselves for others? Are you not scared? What do you gain from this? As if sensing the seriousness of your commitment, he straightens up and crosses his arms. His expression is less severe, but there is still hesitation in his bright gaze. 

“I’ll let you help because I see the passion in your gaze. But, I still wonder how you'll defend yourself and the citizens on the train. You are quite empty handed!”

Your shoulders lose their tension as you sigh in relief. You gave Rengoku one of your rare smiles. It feels odd on your face, but it's genuine. “Don’t worry about me.”

It's a simple statement, but it held a lot of weight. Rengoku gives you a nod and you both venture deeper into the car. You stayed behind him when he fought the demons he encountered and helped the passengers that were heavily bleeding. You took down the concealment magic so that the humans can face you fully and take you in. Many of them were scared, but the sight of you calmed them down. Their faces changed from awe to gratefulness once you used your healing powers on them. It was slightly draining to use your powers, gaining more strength in the day rather than the night where the demons roam. You hope you have enough in you to save who you can before the sun rises again. The night feels exceptionally endless at this time. 

The only reprieve you have is when Kyoujuro uses his flame breathing. The heat of it reminds you of the sun beating down on your back as you explore the countryside. It's so closely related to the sun that you gain back some powers little by little. You couldn’t help but think about how amazing he is. He is blessed by God. 

You both move through the cars quickly by saving passengers and eliminating demons as much as possible. When the last demon is slayed, there is a rumble in the cars that indicates something is wrong. Rengoku quickly sheaths his sword and meets your gaze. 

“I’m going to assume Young Tanjiro and the boar kid defeated the demon controlling the train—”

The train gave a dangerous lurch and you grabbed on to Rengoku to keep upright. He feels warm and sturdy under your palms, the strength he shows reflected on his physique. You made a move to let go of him, but he clasps his hand to yours. 

“We must go!” He says, tugging you to the back of the train where it opens up to the outside. 

Fresh air greets you both. It's such a starch reminder to the smell of death and evil in the cars. You both were face to face with the twinkling stars, the balls of light too far to feel the desperation that’s steadily coming off the train. The wind whips both of your hair around and Rengoku-san lets go of your hand. Instead, he wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you close. Your heart sped up at the closeness, your hand still tingling from holding his hand moments before. 

“Hold on tight!” He yells out, before jumping off the train.

You grip his uniform tightly, feeling the weightlessness of being in the air. You felt the ache in your back as if you were flying with your wings again. You haven’t done that for a long time, restricting yourself to walk everywhere like humans do. You came to that aching realization that you are not happy in the position you put yourself in. A fraction of yourself truly left when you made yourself a home on the ground. 

Feeling gravity pull both of you down, the ground became your base again. He removes his arm from around your waist and you slowly release your grip from his uniform. You move back and glance at him. 

“Are you alright? I hope I didn’t scare you.” He asks, referring to the jump. 

You shook your head no and he gave a closed-eye smile. 

The dirt cloud that erupted from the crashed train dispersed slowly. When it was gone, you took a look around. The train cars were stacked near each other hazardously, passengers slowly trickling out injured. You see Inosuke helping, pulling them out from the wreckage. Zenitsu is nowhere to be found, but you sense that he’s alive somewhere. You look left and right, wondering where Tanjiro is. You eventually see him lying on the ground, breathing a bit harshly since he’s injured. You tug on Kyoujuro’s haori, signaling to follow you. 

You both reach him and Tanjiro looks up. “Rengoku-san…!”

Rengoku tells him to breathe and focus on his wound to close it up. You knew being a demon slayer makes humans a bit more powerful, but you weren’t aware of their capabilities. You observe for a moment, then decide to look for Zenitsu since they don't need you. You told Rengoku  your plan and he nodded. 

“Please be careful. There can still be demons roaming around.” He warns you.

You keep the warning in mind, but you’re aware of your own abilities. Humans love to worry, from what you’ve observed. They can’t help but to fret over others, and it’s lovely seeing it, but you don't know how to take it when someone else worries over you. Kyoujuro made you ponder over so much in so little time. It’s exhilarating and scary at the same time. 

You walk around, following the feeling in your gut. It pulls you to the other side of the train where Zenitsu is. He’s on the ground holding a couple of women who he protected from the crash. They were all passed out but alive and well. You kneel down and separate them all to get a clearer sense of their injuries. You healed the two girls and Zenitsu. The last girl on the other hand, is a demon. She gave off the same energy as Tanjiro. Maybe she’s the one he carries in the box…? Tanjiro is proving to be more interesting than you thought. 

You got up to help the other passengers, but you froze once you felt the hairs on your arm standup. Something is very wrong. It’s worse than the demon that controlled the train. 

You immediately ran back to the spot where you left Tanjiro, Inosuke, and Rengoku. You slowed down when you caught sight of Kyoujuro fighting a demon. They were head to head, not backing down from each other with mounting speed. This demon feels powerful enough to completely overpower the blonde. The thought you had when you first met him is making sense with each blow of his sword and the demon's fist. 

He’s going to die in this battle. The one person that made you feel very human for the first time will perish once the sun is up. 

You want to intervene. You should intervene, since he’s a high ranking member of the demon slayer corps, but it's against the cycle of life to do so. Regardless of his place and value in the human hierarchy, you cannot stop the angel of death from taking him, lest you lose your place as an angel for the rest of the millennium. For the first time in forever, you pray. You prayed to God hoping they would hear the pleas from one of their angels, hoping they would spare Rengoku and let him walk from this battle alive. 

You quickly move to where Tanjiro and Inosuke are, who is watching the battle with their breaths held. They barely spare you a glance, and you understand their sentiment. You couldn’t take your eyes away either. Tanjiro makes a move to help the hashira, but Rengoku yells at him to stay put and heal. The demon, which you learn is called Akaza, is desperate to turn Kyoujuro into a demon and he refuses. Sensing the blonde's unwavering resolve, the demon promises to kill him in this battle. 

They continue to clash, Rengoku cutting down what he can of Akaza and the demon regenerating quickly. Akaza got him at certain times, causing him to bleed out. You flinch seeing the blood splatter, feeling quite helpless. You can sense the same emotions erupting from Tanjiro and Inosuke. Eventually there is a standstill between Akaza and Rengoku. 

“I can see you becoming tired Rengoku-san. Become a demon and you won’t ever have to feel tired again.” Akaza says out loud in a demanding tone. 

“I refuse!” Rengoku yells out. 

You see him change his footing and grip his blade tighter, preparing for another attack. He mutters out a breath style, one that you haven’t seen yet. Suddenly, a large wave of heat hits you as Rengoku runs towards Akaza without stopping. He’s faster than before, a much stronger attack meant to kill off Akaza for good. The flames around him form into something akin to a dragon, large and imposing, meant to intimidate the opponent. For a moment, you feel hope thinking God heard your prayers. 

You watch as the arch of his sword comes down on Akaza’s neck. It sank into his neck and slowly cut through. You saw the panic in the demon’s eyes, before he did a move you couldn’t see. The flames died out abruptly as Rengoku became very still. You heard a gasp right next to you, from Zenitsu who woke up moments before, forcing you to look closer. What you saw caused a numbness to take over. Akaza punched right through his abdomen. 

You turned your face upwards, closed your eyes, and took a deep breath. You let it out and opened your eyes, staring into the sky. It’s not as dark as it once was, turning a lighter blue indicating the sun is coming up soon. You look towards the horizon, skipping over the scene of Akaza and Rengoku entirely, to see the angel of death slowly making their appearance. They’re making their slow ascent to the scene, barely a blip in the distance. Only you can see them, but even Tanjiro, Zenitsu, and Inosuke can sense death approaching with how still they’ve gotten. 

Akaza glances behind him, seeing the sun steadily coming up. He moves away from Rengoku quickly. Tanjiro, who has been down the whole time, gets up and jogs after Akaza. The demon slowly backs into the forest, seeing the first rays of the sun painting the ground a muted yellow and Tanjiro, who plans to stop him where he stands. He makes a run into the forest without looking back. Tanjiro chases after him, stands right at the edge, and uses his breath style to pierce the sword right in Akaza’s retreating back. 

“Come back here you bastard!”

“Why do we always have to face you in the dark?! Face us in the sun you bastard!”

“You coward!”

You, Inosuke, and Zenitsu watch Tanjiro yell his heart out. You turn towards the horizon to see how close the angel of death is, noticing that they’re way closer than before. The spirit of Rengoku’s mom is hovering over her son with a sad smile on her face, yet waiting to meet him on the other side. You feel hot and cold, wondering what you should do in this situation. 

Tanjiro collapses on his knees in front of Rengoku, tears steadily falling down. You see them talking, but you were only focusing on the blonde's life force that’s draining. You took a step, then another, and another, forcing yourself to kneel next to Tanjiro as well. The pair looks at you, but you didn’t meet their gaze, looking behind you to see how much time you have left. You can see the black cloak the angel of death wears looming closer. You turn back to look at the spirit of Rengoku-san’s mother who’s standing behind him, to Tanjiro, to Zenitsu, and then Inosuke. Lastly, you look at Kyoujuro. 

Everyone is staring at you, waiting to see what you’ll do in this dire situation. It seems as if there's nothing left to do, but you have one thing left. One thing that can save him. 

“You will continue to set your heart ablaze, Rengoku-san.” You say simply.

You grab one of his limp hands with both of yours and place it gently over your heart. The sun is higher in the sky, the rays highlighting your ethereal features that were hidden in the dark. Your wings that are usually hidden with your concealment powers blossom open for the first time in decades, causing the slayers to gasp in shock. They were pure white, almost shining iridescent in the bright rays. You slowly transform into your true form, causing your kimono to fall away for a white silk robe with golden embellishments.  

“She looks like…!” Inosuke starts. 

“An angel…” Zenitsu finishes slowly.

Tanjiro and Rengoku sat in silent awe, not knowing what to say. The power that was draining out of you in the darkness grew with the sunrise, causing you to be final in your decision. You close your eyes and focus on giving away some of your life force to Kyoujuro to keep him alive. He gasps and falls forward, feeling the effects of your power. Tanjiro hurriedly held him upwards to avoid breaking the connection you both have. 

You felt yourself sweating, the task being arduous and rushed since the angel of death is right behind you. Once you deem it enough, you let go of him and shook your head, feeling quite dizzy and weak. The glow around you dims and you feel multiple pairs of hands on you to prevent you from falling back. You look back to see Zenitsu and Inosuke holding you up, being careful not to ruffle your wings. You look forward, seeing Rengoku passed out, but alive. His gaping wound is closed, leaving over a pink bruise. His eye on the other hand, didn’t heal. 

You feel a wave of tiredness taking over, but you force your eyes open. You didn’t think this decision through, but you don’t regret it. Feeling a cold prickling sensation take over you suddenly, you look up to see the angel of death looming over you. They silently observe you and Rengoku, before scoffing. 

“You of all beings should know that you’re not supposed to mess with the natural order. Rengoku Kyoujuro may live, but it will come with a price. You will both be punished in the near future.” 

When you blinked, they were gone. The message they left reverberates in your mind, but you didn’t care at the moment. It’s too late to take back what you did, you’ll face the consequences. You glance one more time to Kyoujuro’s mom, who sends you a grateful smile for keeping her son alive. She vanishes, leaving the five of you behind. 

“Thank you.” Tanjiro whispers. 

The tears that were once sad on his face are now grateful. You gave him a small smile. “Please continue to look over Rengoku-san, Tanjiro, Inosuke, and Zenitsu.”

The young slayers bursted into more tears. You couldn’t help but laugh. You laugh at seeing them cry. You laugh at everything that has happened. You laugh at saving a human which is breaking a sacred rule. They look at you in surprise, but let you go through your emotions. 

After a certain point, you stopped laughing and sat up. You sensed multiple footsteps approaching from the distance, a sign telling you to go. You stood up on shaky legs and fluttered your wings. The young slayers all spoke at the same time. 

“Are you leaving?”

“She’s leaving??? Please don’t go!”

“Oi! How can you leave after all this?!”

You frown. You didn’t want to go but you’re not supposed to be seen in the first place. Rengoku will probably go through changes that regular humans wouldn’t understand since you gave him a piece of you to fully heal, but you were sent on a mission. You were sent to observe the humans, not get into their affairs. You can’t abandon that. 

“I’m sorry,” you say sadly. “But I cannot stay and compromise myself in the process. I’m not supposed to be seen by humans.” You finish. 

“But—” Tanjiro starts. You cut him off. 

“You will see me again,” you said with a bittersweet smile. “Tell Kyoujuro that I will always be near.”

You gave each of them a head pat as a last goodbye. When they blinked, you were gone. Before they could speak, they were surrounded by the kakushi who were checking their injuries and asking questions. With all this commotion, they never had a chance to talk about you or what you had done to save the flame hashira. It’s a secret they kept for late night conversation in the butterfly mansion when everyone is asleep. 

When the sky goes from an azure, to a blossoming orange, and a dark navy speckled with stars, they think of you. They think of the sacrifice you’ve made and wonder where you are now. If you’re looking at the sky like they are. One thing they agree on is waiting, like they promised. 

They will patiently wait, until they see you again.

[jadienjaystoriesandart]

Itchy Feathers

I needed a prompt, so I found someone asking for this. Desert Duo preening feathers, Scar is a sweet and caring soul mate in this. He’s too good for Grian lol. @s1yfox14​

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The feathers on his back were uncomfortable, Grian knew what this meant. It’s not too much his fault, between running from the red’s all day, he just hadn’t had time to really preen the feathers on his back. Now the dull ache and ichy feeling were very noticeable and very very uncomfortable. More so then normal. Normally he didn’t have to worry about the back feathers as he always did his best to groom them each day. But reaching them was hard being they were right at the center of his spine. Grian made a groan in this throat, sounding more like a whining chirp. 

He wasn’t sure how he was going to do this by himself as he pounded on if there was a stick he might be able to use? He didn’t like the idea of asking one of the others for help, and Scar was currently asleep. Grian felt really bad for what all happened today, 2 lives lost in one day... because of him.  Scar needed his sleep, Grian could do this on his own, he’d be fine. Even if the bird in his head protested and snarked back that they needed help. BigB once tried to help him, and Grian near clawed him. His human mind knew he could trust BigB, but the bird brain did not yet see the man as flock or even remotely close to mate.

Maybe that was something to do with the soulmate thing? Grian wasn’t sure, he really did like BigB as his secret soulmate, but his instincts disagreed with him. it was annoying is what it was. Could also be lingering effects of letting Scar get so close during 3rd Life. Only other person who ever preened his feathers was Mumbo, and Mumbo wasn’t here.  His feathers ruffled again at the itch he couldn’t quite reach. Grian glared at the ground trying to ignore it, he was fun, nothing was wrong. He tried to focus on anything else but their angry chitter in his head. They would have to plan, they were red now, and he wanted blood. The urge to go burn something was strong, or just blow it up in general.

Grian must have been very lost in thought as he felt a hand run through his back feathers. For a moment his thoughts screeched to a halt, but the fingers felt so familiar as they smoothed out the bent feathers and carefully took out the ones that were broken. A relieved chirp escaped his mouth as he felt the tension in his spine fade away.

A hum behind him, “Could have just told me you needed a preening Grian.” Scar’s voice muttered, “I had noticed your feathers looking less shiny then usual.” the calloused fingers worked slowly through the mess of feathers and dirt. Scar’s eyebrows furrowed in concentration as he pulled out any seeds and grit from the back feathers, starting at the base and working slowly up to the edges. 

For his part Grian had completely melted, a happy coo in his head that he found himself letting out. “Were sleeping.” he muttered through coos, Scar chuckled through his nose at that as he smoothed out another feathers, making the wings twitch happily. “Was sleeping, I could feel your discomfort.” Scar told him as Grian mumbled a sorry and he got a gentle scratch at the base of his wing joint, making him let out a series of chirps. “Don’t worry about it, I’m always happy to help you my bird.” the voice was soothing, gentle, and made him mind turn to goo.

Everything about this felt right as his soulmate preened the feathers, getting rid of the uncomfortable itch that had been there for what felt like days! Finally the bird was happy in his head, laying it’s head down to rest as well. Scar was humming quietly to himself as he let Grian lay on the blanket as he worked. No words were needed to be said. 

And if Grian would whistle along, Scar didn’t say anything about it other than a small laugh and humming some notes again. It was moments like this both enjoyed, down time to trust each other. The hurt fading from days before, like a papercut, though painful the wounds felt so small here and now.

As Scar finished up he laid down next to Grian, it was still late in the night. And a wing came to pull him closer. Soft, now cleaned feathers pulled him to hold Grian close to his chest. A smile made his face to his face he looked at his soulmates tired eyes. “Get some rest Grian.” Scar muttered as he held the avian close.

He got a sleepy chirp back as Grian burrowed closer to his chest and was quickly fast asleep. Scar smiled faintly as he held him, petting the feathers and hair, careful not to mess up his work. And drifted off to sleep with him.

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IDK why but the song Papercut by Zedd really fits Double Life Desert Duo. Anywho hope you liked this sort fanfic.

[imthebadguyyy]

Loved your first fic of Lewis!💛

Can you make one where Lewis Hamilton and Y/N have a fight and have been living separately and then Lewis comes to meet Y/N one evening and makes an excuse that his toothbrush is with Y/N? And then Lewis confronts Y/N that he knows Y/N still love him but won't admit?

..

* I know this is a very specific prompt. Bare with me. I just wanted more Angst/ Fluff with Longing for each other and Deep feelings and keep it Non-explicit. *

A/N - I'm so glad you liked the fic 😊

We're Meant To Be

Pairing - Lewis Hamilton x Reader (female)

Fandom - F1

Summary - After a messy fight, you don't know where your relationship stands. But when love is that strong, an argument can't stand in the way.

Warnings - Angst, fighting, swearing

Angered shouts. Tears of frustration. White noise. Desperate pleads. And then silence. That's what your neighbours would describe if they were asked to describe what they had heard from your house. An argument that seemed to have started over nothing, had blown up into a full scale fight. When had it become this bad? Only yesterday, you two had had a date night at home, with movies and wine. Everything was perfect. But then, suddenly everything seemed to go down a downward spiral.

Your relationship with your boyfriend had always been calm, it had been the type of love where you just loved each other with all your hearts, where fights were an incredibly rare appearance. You were both working, and he was away at races most of the time, so usually, you didn't waste time fighting, something that was an unnecessary waste of time in your opinion. But then, something had just switched for a second. It was after the race in Baku, and it hadn't gone well. Lewis had been heartbroken, after coming P15, and had heavily berated himself for it. To make him feel better, you had taken a couple of days off work. to just be with him and give him company to feel better.

It had been on the third day of you spending time with him that he had made an offhand comment that had struck a nerve with you. "I wish you could be there at race weekends more often. It's like you don't care enough about the races" The comment had pissed you off, to put it lightly. "What do you mean, I don't care about the races? I watch all of them Lewis, I'm always supporting you" you had practically seethed at him. "Don't get all huffy, darling, all I'm saying is that the other girlfriends and wives come quite often, but you only come to like three races a year" he had said, already regretting his words. "Maybe that's because I have a job?! I work for my living, and I love my job. I don't have time to fly around the world to accompany you to your races, and its damn hard to get leave off of work anyway, I was lucky to even get a week off of work, and you want me to be there every weekend? It's not possible for a working person, Lewis" you had said, anger bubbling in your voice, pulling away from him to sit up straight. "I know, I just meant-" "No, I know what you meant. I'm sorry I can't always be there, and don't you think I feel bad when I can't be there for you ?" "I know you do, I shouldn't have brought this up. But can you come for the next race?" He had asked, not looking at your eyes, regretting the answer. "I... can't. I have a really big meeting coming up and-" "And you can't come I get it"

And he had just left. You had felt your heart shatter, hating yourself for being so harsh with him. But it was true, you were a very hardworking person, and you had worked damn hard to get to where you were, successful at your job, one of the best in your field. It took years of hard work and perseverance and you were proud of it. But a part of you also knew that Lewis didn't deserve any of the crap you had given him, and you also knew that he was right, the other guys had their partners to support them during various race weekends, and you only showed up to one or two of them. He was well in his rights to tell you that. And you hated how it had ended.

You all alone, in your house, in a cold and empty bed, in a quiet house with silence that was much, much more deafening than words ever could be. It was heartbreaking, to see a future you had dreamed of just shattering in front of your eyes, dreams of having a family of your own with him fluttering away like wisps of smoke, the burning flames leaving only a heartbroken mess of a human being behind. Was that what it felt like? To be burned and left to turn to ashes, when a person that knew exactly how to ignite your flame just left you to burn away? To have someone who could ignite your all consuming passion, and turn you to putty in his hands, who could mould you back into shape, leave you to melt into a liquid through his fingers to just lay on the ground, a sad, broken, person.

And here you were, lying on your bed, the sheets that had warmed the both of you on cold nights, or been home to your pleasure laced activities now offering only some of the warmth it used to, cold and unforgiving, as you turned your pillow for the fifteenth time, neither side cool anymore. Even the pillow didn't want to forgive you, the sweat settling in on your neck again, beads of sweat running down your forehead again. The pulled curtains shielded you from the over bright sunshine, your damp hair sticking to your shoulders and neck. Your eyes, red rimmed and tired, shut to protect them from the faint light in the room, the tiredness not permitting you to even open them to look in the dim light of your room.

Somewhere near you, your phone buzzed again, for what felt like the hundredth time in three days. It had been three days, three long, painful days since you and Lewis had fought and not seen each other, and those 72 hours had ripped a part of your soul out. You had spent those three days in bed, your leave days still saving you from getting out of bed and dragging your body to office. Was your relationship over? Were you never going to meet the love of your life, the man you were destined to be with again? Sighing, you rolled over, pushing the damp strands of hair away from your face. Using strength you didn't know you had, you pulled yourself up, feeling your head spin.

Slowly, you made yourself walk into the kitchen, grabbing a piece of bread and popping it into the toaster. Then you splashed some water on your tired face, shuffling over to the bathroom to brush your teeth. After finishing your toast, you peeled off the sweaty shirt you had pulled on when he had left, realising with a pang that it was Lewis's nightshirt you were wearing, a purple one he loved. Dropping it into the laundry basket, you turned on the shower, stepping under the warm shower. The warm spray untangled the knots in your matted hair, as you soaped your body and hair, fresh tears rolling down your cheeks as memories of your showers together with Lewis came flooding back, as heartbroken sobs wracked your form again.

An hour after the not so great shower, you found yourself in another shirt belonging to Lewis, the bed in fresh sheets and covers, your pillow finally cool on both sides. You were clean and refreshed, albeit heartbroken, waiting on your takeout Chinese food and ice cream. Just as you lay there, scrolling through your Netflix account to watch some episode of FRIENDS to help you keep your spirits up, the doorbell rang. The thought of flavourful Chinese food and ice cream was enough to lure you out of your bed again, bare feet padding across the wooden floor to go to the door. You grabbed your wallet, opening the door, to find not your dinner, but Lewis, at the door, in one of your favourite sweatshirts on him. Did the clothes make you feel better? No. In fact, it just shattered your heart further.

"What are you doing here?" was the predictable line that left your lips. "I um, I left my toothbrush at your place. Can I have it back?"

"I beg your pardon? You left your toothbrush? You came back for a toothbrush, but not for me? Is that all I mean to you?!" you said, anger and a hint of sadness creeping into your tone. "You do mean a lot to me" he replied in a sigh. "Look, I didn't actually leave my toothbrush. That was a lie, and wow, I'm just realising how stupid that sounded, I'm sorry" His words were met with silence. The sadness in your eyes said it all. You were upset. Of course you were. "I don't have any toothbrushes except mine, so please leave" Before you could shut the door in his face, he pushed it back open, stepping into the house on his own.

"No do not come in here, please just get out!"

"No" was his frustrating reply. "What do you mean no? I said get out of my house!" "Not until we stop fighting and talk about what the hell happened!" Lewis yelled back, matching your tone. "Why the hell do you care?!" "Because I still love you damn it, I always have, and this stupid fight cannot, and should not break us apart!"

Your burst into tears. Sliding down against the wall, you buried your face in your hands, the sweatshirt arms covering your face as you sobbed. In an instant, Lewis was walking across to you, strong muscled arms wrapping around your shaking frame. "I'm sorry" you managed to blubber out, "I thought it over, and I don't go to support as often as I feel I should, and I'm sorry"

"No my darling, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said all that to you. You work so hard baby, and I'm so proud of you. And I know that you try to come whenever you can, and I love you so much for that. I'm sorry, and I never shouldv'e asked you to prioritize my passion over yours" rubbing your shoulders softly, he let his chin rest on top of yours. Sniffling, you let your head rest on his shoulder. The soft hiccups that left your lips broke his heart even further, something he hadn't thought possible.

The last 3 days had been pure hell for him. He had missed you, God, he had missed you. He had missed having you in his bed in the morning, tracing patterns on your bare skin. He had missed leaving kisses on your soft cheeks and hands and on your cute nose, missed smiling against your skin as you giggled. He had missed you playing with Roscoe, the doggo following the both of you around the house. Even Roscoe had missed you, sniffing around the house for your familiar smell, cocking his ears up and looking at his dad questioningly.

He had missed your perfume, the scent filling his senses, intoxicating him in the best way possible. He missed you curling up to him, playing with his hair or tracing his tattoos, leaving little kisses around the compass tattoo, tracing his 'Still I Rise' tattoo, missing the goosebumps that would rise on his skin when you traced Michelangelo's Pieta on his skin, and kissed the family and faith tattoos on his sternum. He missed you everywhere, and it had taken three days for him to realize that your presence grounded him. Your presence was something he needed, not to survive, he had done that before, he needed you for his happiness.

And having you in his arms, crying over what he had said? It shattered his heart. And he wanted to just fix everything, to bring everything back to normal. Stroking your hair softly, he kept his lips pressed to your ear, whispering soft "I love you's" and "I'm so sorry baby's" and "I'm here for you's" into your ear, feeling his heart lighten ever so softly when your sniffles decreased and your grip on yourself relaxed.

Moving up to meet his eyes, you moved so you were at eye level with him. "So we're both idiots who are sorry?" You murmured, running your hand up to his collarbone. With a soft laugh, he nodded taking your hand into his, rubbing his thumb over yours. "Fighting sucks" he mumbled pushing a stray strand of hair behind your ear. "It really does" your replied, moving so you were straddling his waist. "Let's never do that again, and let's just make a schedule. We can figure out when you can come and visit me, and I'll just deal with the fact that my ethereal girlfriend won't grace the race tracks every race weekend-" "It all sounds lovely but all I want right now is your lips on mine" you interrupted, bringing a smirk to his lips.

Leaning forward, he pressed his lips to yours, hand moving to maneuver your head closer to his, your hands moving up to cup his cheek, as your traced his jawline, his thumb running over your waist. Breaking apart softly, he let his forehead rest on yours. "I love you" he whispered softly. "I love you too" you mumbled back. Before he could lean back in, the doorbell rang again.

"Damn it. That's my chinese food and ice cream" you sighed, smiling when he laughed. "Was it that bad?" He asked, letting you get up to open the door. "Like you wouldn't believe it"

After getting the food and paying for it, you set two plates on the table and put enough on your plates. "You know what the worst part was about fighting?" "What was?" "Not waking up to you tracing my tattoos" "Aww that's what you missed?" You giggled, walking up to kiss the tattoos on his hands. "I really did. You're cute and adorable and you're all mine. That's why I don't wanna fight. Let's keep it that way" "I love you so much" "I love you too"

***

A/N - I'm so, so sorry I took so long to write this, I really suck at angst, and I hope this is what you wanted, the last thing I want to do is give you subpar work 😭😭

Anyways, have a great day 💙

[shadow-schemer]

More Things I’ve Scraped From IGN. The Player Knows How To Play. Thank God.

Miracle Cure

Purchase our miracle cure!

The miraculous alchemist Clarke Shaw, also known as Professor Cure-It-All, has finally created a miracle cure for the horrible plague spreading through Krat City!

|| my thoughts ||:  sounds like a scam from Honest John... /lmao

“Venigni is a dummy!”

“I want to be paid like his puppet butler”

|| my thought ||:  ... /lmao

Workshop Engineer’s Guide [1/2]

Subtitle: Do you want to be a workshop engineer? A guide for aspiring engineers.

The place people are most interested in these days is Krat, the city of puppets.

When the great V first arrived it was nothing more than a small fishing town. But over the past 30 years, it has grown leaps and bounds thanks to the puppet industry.

The puppets manufactured at the Krat Workshop have gained a reputation for a level of technology that blows their competition out of the water.

The puppets are as sophisticated as humans and follows their masters’ orders naturally, to the point that people wonder if they might have souls.

Many competitors have tried but failed to reproduce their mechanical hearts, only proving the overwhelming disparity in their abilities.

--

Workshop Engineer’s Guide [2/2]

However, it wasn’t always easy for the Workshop.

Their history begins with a legendary craftsman, and to this day his notes are used as teaching material for apprentice engineers.

The legendary G, known to all aspiring engineers.

The next page displays his achievements.

(Omitted)

|| my thoughts ||:  V = Venigni. G = Geppetto. Possibly. The demo takes place in the Venigni factory after all. Geppetto possibly was an alchemist before he became an engineer?

With Krat having a fishing town background, the scenario with Monstro the whale is within possibility. And tuna. Vacuum-packed. With the smell of mayonnaise.

Memoirs of Factory Supervisor Pascal [1/2]

XX/XX/189X

When puppets are designed, they cannot refuse to obey the Grand Covenant. They are bound to follow the orders of their creator and cannot harm humans.

However, look at that fire stoker puppet we used to call Fuoco. Maybe the Grand Covenant was flawed?

A puppet that used to manage fires now kills people, makes new puppets, and started to worship something in place of humans. It’s as if there’s a king of puppet out there somewhere. Pulling the strings.

It’s acting more like a human being than a puppet.

Is it just imitating people? Is it really just a defect?

I need to investigate this further.

--

Memoirs of Factory Supervisor Pascal [2/2]

Surprising, it’s not loyalty. Rather, it’s cult-like worship. Fuoco was glorifying this so-called king.

Religion in puppets... This doesn’t make any sense...

I was wrong. They’re not merely imitating people.

They are becoming human.

This terrifies me. Not death, but the fact that they’re changing.

Someone’s got to destroy them. For the sake of humankind.

|| my thoughts ||:  Ah. Become as gods. The puppet boss battles shown so far were speaking a language P can’t seem to translate yet so it appears as these.

Hopefully as we progress we can understand the puppets’ dialogue?

Earrings of Fire Crusher

Gear: Ear | Weight 0.5

Effect: Slightly increases fire reduction rate.

Gears that control the currents from the ear terminal, enhancing the performance of the puppet.

Gears that enhance reflexes against fire attacks, reducing their damage. Increases the fire defense of armor and deflect damage.

|| my thoughts ||:  I like the idea of jewelry as enhancement plug-ins for P lol

By my observation, you can put out the Burn status ailment faster by rolling/side-stepping around! Stop-Drop-and Roll actually works! At the expense of your Stamina of course.

Mad Donkey’s Hunting Clothes

The Mad Donkey’s hunting outfit. It reeks of terrible violence.

As the madman’s death drew near, he no longer feared the puppets or the disease.

He only wanted the reason behind the bloodshed of his brothers.

|| my thoughts ||:  I wonder what the Pleasure Island scenario equivalent is? Hopefully no escape sequence.

I’ve noticed that once your Pulse Charge (your HP restoration ala Blood Vials) counter reaches 0, you have a chance of restoring that by defeating enemies until you fill up the gauge. I appreciate more survivability chances.

These Red Butterflies seem to be like Crystal Lizards from Dark Souls.

This doppelganger fella spooked me a little because they moved fast, wears the same clothes as P, but has an animal head instead. This one dropped a [Stalker’s Oath] on defeat. Must be a gesture?

[wlwmarvelenthusiast]

Darkest Secrets

Requested by @mcmorgan9794

Summary: Keeping this secret from Wanda has been hard, but you don't have a choice but to come clean when everything is brought to light.

Warnings: None

Word Count: 3,446

You’d always wanted to tell Wanda your deepest, darkest secret. You had been with her for well over a year, after all. A secret like the one you harboured wasn’t something that you should keep from someone you loved so dearly. But your secret was the ugliest part of yourself. It was something you hated, lurking deep within every inch of your body. It brewed in your blood and rested in your bones, uncontrolled at the best of times and unstoppable at the worst. It was a burden you’d never wanted to place upon the girl you loved.

Yet, keeping it from her hurt too. She’d look at you with those soft green eyes, spilling everything to you. Tears would stream down her cheeks as she’d tell you all about how much she hated the powers she’d been given. You’d hold her close and whisper soft words of comfort, wiping her tears away with the pad of your thumb, refusing to tell her you felt the same about your own. She would tell you everything. You wouldn’t tell her anything. You couldn’t tell her anything. She thought she was a monster. In reality, you were the monster. If she knew that, her heart would shatter.

Sometimes, these facts were all you could think about. It was the quiet moments. Wanda was away getting coffee with Natasha, Tony and Bruce were in the lab, Thor was on Asgard, and Clint was home with his family. You were left alone at the compound. You hardly ventured out of your own room. While silence screamed in the dark room, you tried to distract yourself with a book or a movie, but it didn’t last. Instead, the weight of your secret was crushing the oxygen out of your lungs. It always did. You longed to have Wanda back, to have her by your side and thread your fingers through hers. She didn’t know how agonizing solitude could be.

You curled up in your armchair, pulling your knees up to your chest and curling your arms around them. You squeezed your eyes shut, wishing you could will the overwhelming thoughts out of your head. They were screaming at you. They were reminding you of the monster that lay dormant in your very soul, cackling as they pushed images of what you were capable of. Then you imagined Wanda. You could do her so much harm and she didn’t even know it. Were you putting her in danger every day you lay by her side? You swallowed as you tried to force back the tears.

The dark thoughts came next. They always did. You wondered how much better off the world would be without you. You wondered how much better off she would be without you. She loved you. Losing you would break her heart, but she’d be okay eventually. If you hurt her in the way only you knew you were capable of, you knew she would never be okay again. None of them would. The dam broke and tears spilled down your cheeks. Hurting Wanda Maximoff would kill you.

And as you were about to imagine all the ways you could take yourself and your monster out of this world, your phone rang.

You grabbed the phone off the table, wiping the tears from your eyes with the back of your hand. You took a steadying breath before you even dared look down at the screen. The first thing you noticed wasn’t the person who was calling, but the time. It hadn’t felt like it had been as long as it had since the other had left you alone in the compound. The darkness in your head could do that. You lost track of time often when you reached that place. An hour could pass, then two, and then six.

It was Natasha’s face that was flashing on your screen. Worry filled your gut. Was Wanda okay? She had to be okay. You forced a deep breath in, and then out. Her phone had probably died. The Sokovian was notorious for remembering to plug the charger into her phone, but forgetting to plug it into the wall on the other end. After reminding yourself of that a few times, you finally found the ability to slide the answer button and hold the phone up to your ear.

“Hey.”

“Thank god,” Natasha’s voice said. There was a loud screech in the background, the sound of metal grinding against metal. “Listen you need to get to the hospital.”

Your heart dropped into your stomach. Oxygen caught in your throat and you were barely able to let words squeeze past the lump that had formed. “The hospital?”

“The ambulance is almost there. She’s hurt bad. Don’t come anywhere near Midtown.”

You didn’t even bother to respond. In fact, you didn’t even bother to hang up the phone. You simply slammed it down on the table that you’d only just picked it up from, heading for the elevator. A million thoughts were racing through your head. There were so many emotions tugging at your heart that you could hardly decipher one from the next. Fear, anger, and worry were all fighting to take over every one of your senses. You couldn’t breathe. It was as if on autopilot that you made it to the garage and hotwired one of Tony’s cars.

Scenery was flashing by you, mere streaks outside the windows of the car. The pedal was on the floor beneath your foot. You flexed your fingers; knuckles having gone white with the force of your grip on the steering wheel. Your brain was showing you visuals of Wanda lying on the table, shining green eyes dulled in the absence of life. Head too wrapped up in the thoughts that ran through it, you didn’t realize you weren’t headed for the hospital at all. You were headed toward midtown, exactly where Natasha had told you not to go.

You’d never been an Avenger. You would never be an Avenger. Maybe it was selfish, refusing to help others when you had the ability to. People died and you might have been able to stop it. Your own powers scared you too much to allow you to. It was something you’d decided long ago. The lives of every civilian that you could have saved were worth it. You couldn’t unleash that sinister thing that lived inside you. Yet, here you were, rushing toward the fight like you were Tony Stark in his suit of armour, or Steve Rogers with a vibranium shield strapped to your back.

The car screeched as you slammed your foot down on the brake. The seatbelt dug so hard into your ribs that you weren’t sure a few hadn’t snapped beneath the pressure. The adrenaline pumping through your veins assured you wouldn’t feel it even if they did. You fought to keep your breathing under control as you stepped out of the car and took in the destruction around you. Someone here had hurt Wanda, and, honestly, you couldn’t find it in you to care which one it had been. You’d kill every single one.

Gravel and rubble crunched beneath your feet as you ventured further and further into the warzone that had broken out in Midtown New York. They looked human, whoever they were. They were armed to the teeth and attacking every moving thing in sight. None of them had noticed you yet. That was better for both of you, for the time being. You shut your eyes for a brief moment and listen to the sounds around you. Civilians were screaming and car alarms were blaring and explosions roared. Then there was running, and it stopped at your side.

“I told you not to come here. Wanda’s at the hospital.”

You opened your eyes. Natasha was at your side. Blood trickled down her temple, staining her pale skin. She flinched as she put weight on her left leg to move a little closer to you. Wanda might have been the woman you called your own, but the Avengers were your family. Seeing one of them hurting in the way Natasha was only stoked the fire that was beginning to burn hotter and hotter inside of you. Your gaze moved away from her and back to the oncoming forces. They were getting closer.

“How did you know I was here?”

“Tony’s cars have trackers. We got an alert the second you left the compound and another as you came here. Get to the hospital.”

But you’d already stopped listening. The incoming threat had gotten close enough to notice you now. Green eyes followed your gaze until she, too, noticed the men approaching the two of you. She raised her arm, the gun still clutched tight in her grip. You could tell by the bewildered expression on her face that she hadn’t at all been expecting you to stop her. Your hand grabbed her wrist, lowering her arm until it was back against her side. You suspected it was the crimson gleam in your eyes that was the only thing that was keeping her weapon lowered.

You turned back to her once more. Surprise was written across every feature on her face… no, it was fear. She was afraid. She should be scared of you. Your skin began to blacken as you began to fade into nothing. Her eyes were still able to find yours, glowing bright as ever. She flinched when you reached out, backing up as you reached for her hand in an attempt for a final goodbye. You bowed your head, wishing she’d let you feel the warmth of her skin beneath your hand one final time.

“I’m sorry, Natasha.”

Then you turned away from her. The last of your human form faded away. It was hard to make out any shape in the tall, dark shadow that you’d become. Haunting golden eyes cast to the men that were racing toward you. As if to match the scene, a dark cloud rolled in front of the sun. Its shadow cast down onto the city, the darkness concealing you even further and making your eyes glow seemingly brighter. They continued to approach. They didn’t know their mistake. You did. You were dangerous at any time. You were more dangerous now that they’d hurt the person you loved more than you had ever loved before.

You raised your arms into the sky, feet leaving the ground. When your feet had been touching the concrete below them, you’d already been towering over the oncoming men. Now, you looked down upon them. Guns raised to where you hovered in the sky. It was almost comical. One of them screamed, and suddenly they were all firing. Their bullets tore through you, yet they didn’t touch you. Your head tilted to the side ever so slightly as an unsettling grin appeared in your dark shadow, disrupted by the whiz of dozens of bullets flying through it.

“Knock knock,” you said. Even your voice was sinister, a deep rumble that felt like it emanated from every direction, or deep inside of any listener.

The laughter that burst from their chests was strange, at first. It seemed out of place in such a setting. Confusion flickered across each of their faces. Then they laughed harder, and harder. Guns fell to the ground and they howled with laughter, but it contrasted their eyes. There was no sparkle of amusement in even one. It was pure, unbridled fear that you could see shining in them. One by one they fell to their knees, clawing at their throats as they tried to stop. One had tears streaming down his cheeks as he covered his ears, trying to block out the sounds that were torn from his own throat.

They couldn’t get in their comms to tell their men to keep away.

The next group that came for you met the same fate. Soon they, too, were on the ground. You got some sort of sick satisfaction as you watched them fall, unable to control their bodies. You’d taken over, grabbing hold of their heads and their bodies. You’d grabbed onto their lungs and ripped laughter from their chests, absolutely uncontrollable. When they lost control of that, that was when the fear started to take over. Fear would grip at them; you could feel it emanating off them. It would only get worse. You’d watched men take their lives as they lost their minds.

There was a reason you never used your powers. You were afraid of them, sure. The reason you were afraid of them, however, wasn’t because of their strength. Their strength could have saved lives. It wasn’t even because you couldn’t control them. You were addicted to your own powers. You took pride in watching grown men reduced to tears, curled up on the ground, shaking like an abused puppy. Your sick satisfaction was what you feared.

Was this what it felt like to be an Avenger? Were you taking pride in watching the civilians able to run from the scene, or was your pride in the fact that they no longer feared the invading forces, but you instead? The men were rendered immobile as the New Yorkers ran far from the scene. There you were in the centre of it, arms outstretched eyes gleaming, and grin growing wider and ever more evil. Natasha was still hovering just outside of your reach. You could feel her. You turned to face her. You could tell by the look in her eyes that she no longer recognized you. She put her lips to her comm.

“Evacuate the area. Don’t come down this way. Clint, go check on Wanda.”

Wanda.

Your powers ceased. No one rose right away. It would take some time for them to recover. They were gasping for breath. Their arms were too preoccupied hugging themselves tight to bother even trying to wipe the tears that covered many of their faces. Some of them were even rocking back and forth as the effect wore off. You dropped to the ground, human form taking back over. Your eyes were back to normal as you looked to Natasha once more. Neither of you said anything, but you took off running.

*

You pulled your hood up further, gaze locked to your black running shoes. You couldn’t help but feel like every set of eyes was on you. That’s how it felt, you supposed, being wanted by every agency on the planet. With the ability to change your form, though, it was pretty easy to hide in plain sight. Your footsteps echoed on the hard floor beneath your feet as you kept forward. Anyone who saw you would know you were on a mission. You knew exactly where you were going.

She was sleeping when you arrived. The cuts on her body had been stitched and bandaged, and her broken arm had been cast. Sam’s signature was already present on the red material, accompanied by a bad drawing of a bird. You couldn’t help but smile a little to yourself at that. Hopefully, it had kept a smile on her face as her world fell into turmoil, something undoubtedly caused by you. That simple fact would always break your heart. You had to turn to the window to keep the tears at bay.

When you turned back to Wanda, her green eyes were on you. There was something in her eyes that you couldn’t quite read. Her head tilted to the side as she looked at you, in a form that would be unrecognizable. It wasn’t just hiding you from the authorities, but it was hiding you from her. It was protecting her from you. She didn’t need to know that it was you, the woman who had never for a single second deserved to love her or be loved by her. A small smile grew on her lips.

“You forget I can read minds, my love.”

Of course. Wanda had always promised you she’d never read your mind. She would never violate your privacy like that. Right now, though, standing in her hospital room, you hadn’t been you. Obviously, she’d found it appropriate to peek into the mind of the stranger who had been watching her sleep. You should have been mortified. You’d never wanted her to know that you were here. Instead, a large part of you was relieved.

“Hey.”

“Hey yourself,” she breathed out. “So, that was quite the secret.”

Even though you deserved it, it still felt like a knife to the heart when she said it aloud. You nodded slowly, cracking your knuckles nervously. “I’m sorry.”

“I know.”

You studied her face. Wanda really was a saint, with powers like the ones she had. She was kind, thoughtful, and respectful. You were sure if you’d had her powers right then, you’d be digging through her mind trying to find out what she was thinking. Her eyes weren’t showing you enough. They were calm, though, and it was keeping you calm. Your breathing was level and your head was steady on your shoulders, something you wouldn’t have had been able to say only five short minutes ago.

“Are you afraid?” You managed.

“No,” she assured instantly. “Confused. Why didn’t you tell me?”

You breathed out slowly. “I didn’t want to hurt you. My powers? They’ll hurt you.”

“Will you hurt me?”

“Never!” You insisted. “I… I only hurt them because they hurt you.”

She smiled. “Then I’m not afraid.”

She beckoned you. You padded slowly toward the bed, watching as she stared up at you with an amount of love and adoration that you didn't deserve. Wanda glanced at the door, making sure no one was there to see, and then took your hand in hers, tugging on it to get you to sit down next to her. Instant calm washed over you, drowning out any negative, scared thoughts that had been in your head for days previous. It was like her hand was a lifeline, keeping you anchored on the spot. In the last few days, you’d been anything but calm and present.

You’d been a wreck without her, not knowing if she’d hate you… if you even saw her again. You didn’t know if you’d be able to feel her touch again, to feel her hands on your cheeks or to feel her grab onto you and pull you into a searing kiss the way she did. But you had seen her again, and, somehow, she didn’t hate you. Now, it seemed now you could get oxygen flowing through your body again. Still, you were uncertain.

“And can you forgive me?” You asked, voice so quiet she almost didn’t hear it. “Can you ever love me again?”

Wanda took her free hand and put it on the underside of your chin, tilting your gaze up to hers. “I see nothing that has to be forgiven.” She brushed her thumb across your cheek, wiping away a stray tear. “I love you. I will never, ever stop loving you.”

“Promise?”

“I promise you,” she assured.

She leaned forward and then her lips were on yours. It took you a second to realize the salty taste was from the tears that were streaming down your cheeks, but it didn’t seem to be bothering the Sokovian. Both of your hands found hers and you held tight, as if afraid you’d never see her again if you dared to let go. She slipped one hand out of yours as she pulled back, using it to brush a strand of hair behind your ear.

“I’m sorry I kept it from you,” you muttered.

“I’m sorry you were so scared all alone.”

Your heart swelled. You really had found the perfect woman. “You’re really too good to me. You know that?”

Wanda laughed. “You deserve the world. You know that?”

With the way you tucked yourself against her in a hug, it was obvious she knew you felt the same of her. Her hand stroked your hair as you finally, for the first time ever, felt absolute ease and a sense of peace. Hiding that secret from Wanda had been the second hardest thing you’d ever done. The hardest had been coming clean with it. You snuggled a little closer to her, burying your head into the crook of her neck and mumbling against her skin.

“I’ll never hide anything from you again. I promise.”

Wanda pulled you away so she could look at you. “While we’re revealing secrets, I suppose I should tell you about the engagement ring in my jacket pocket.”