#and it's crazy how i picked up on that before i even consciously realized it

[half-doomed]

I dont understand the hate for what a time to be alive. Why do you hate fun!!!!!!!

[patchiko]

Arkham Knight Relationship HCS !! <3

( light nsfw, mostly SFW tho!! )

literally my wife ( i made this pic idc abt creds i just wanna talk abt it)

SFW !! <3

dying on this hill when i say basically any red hood would be soo yummy with a civilian or just someone who is extremely balanced.

im a red hood needs more fucking normalcy in his life TRUTHER.

relationship starts off slow, romantic and platonic, you need to be patient with him long enough for him to get over his mental dilemmas to feel ANY-TYPE of way towards you.

more then like 6 months lets be real yall

his way of bonding is quality time. ill die on this hill, especially at the start of the relationship. Nothing huge maybe just spending a couple extra minutes around you before leaving.

next is probably gift giving, esp with early relations, probably just gonna order you food or put fifty bucks on your countertop. you dont even notice until you realize you find a fifty around the last place he was standing. expect deliveries from R.H whenever he feels bad for something.

doesn't like being around for too long, feels like he's messing up something. ruining your day by keeping you up late (he was there for fifteen minutes), ruining your mood, (there was an awkward silence for like 30 seconds.)

not a overly conscious thought process though, he feels physically he isn’t supposed to be there. for whatever subconscious thing he picked up on, a awkward silence, or hes been there 15 minutes too long or something

well sometimes he'll mentally beat himself up.

he spirals a lot, needs someone to pull him out of that.

i think when he needs to be grounded, its not just comfort its making him feel alive in the present moment. he's never gonna truly forget about his traumas but maybe for just an hour or two; running around an arcade, walking around the city. just making him feel normal, yeah you BAGGED his ass quick.

he needs someone patient, really patient, someone whos very attentive and empathetic. (but not a complete push- over def needs someone to set him in line still)

i think if you move to quickly, he'll get super snappy and ghosting you,, ong put ur hands on him too early and he's left hooking you.

yeah you're waking up and the first thing your hearing is "Its been 12 years..."

second thing you hear is "you've been in a coma for.. 12 years."

third thing you're hearing is, " we think a bus hit you...”

obviously not touchy, even when he is settling down. hes just not sure how to .. or where to .. or why he wants too.

please his mental gymnastics get so crazy, just sit down with him and put on some silly ass movie so he stops

when he’s settled he cant pry himself off you though.

a lot of his expressions can definitely be told by his body language, naturally hes tense but theres certain habits he has when he's maybe thinking too much, or fustrated/irritated.

but he does all of the same for you, comfort, love, as much as he can he tries

Very attentive, has a mental list of 'shit you do when somethings wrong' or 'shit you like.'

doesn't consciously make any of these mental list, he just knows.

"didnt they say they liked this?" He pauses "shit ill just leave it at their window."

so he's like canonically smart as shit.

you have too much work from your boss or professor? hand it over its done in less then two hours.

literally buys you groceries and pays your bills (fucking lover boy.)

arkham knight finally figuring out how to ask for a hug (hes been dead silent for 5 minutes) (link) <— insta reel

HES A CHEM/HISTORY NERD FOR SURE

NSFW !! <3

probably- A FUCKING VIRGIN !! HES A NERD !! GETS AWKARD AS SHIT. WITH RAGING COMMITMENT AND TRUST ISSUES !! (will still die4you tho)

AGAIN, not in a "my soft squishe potato always been scared of sex" way but in a ‘oh my god hes so unsocialized’ way.

yall ever see a big ass dog just..standing.. literally him (hes dissociating)

genuinely dont believe that when he was arkham/training to be, he was sexually or romantically involved with anyone. the last thing that was on his mind was actually pursuing a sexual or romantic relationship.

along with his trauma, he just wasn’t comfortable with any of that.

ghosted so many people..

couldn’t flirt for more then five minutes, just stopped feeling it or got uncomfortable .

I AM ANTI ARKHAM KNIGHT BEING A SEX GOD

not that he’s horribly awkward, but he’s noticeably a bit more quiet for first times.

ofc this man has watched porn n’ shit but hes smart enough to know thats not what its really like.

he’ll still figure it, what makes you tic, what you love, what makes you most comfortable.

kinda shitty at dirty talk, just makes him buffer.

he gets better at it tho, too damn good

gets so snarky and confident about it too uuhgrr

late relationships hes smirking and chatting your ears off cause you know hes gettin you turnt.

he has a love-hate relationship with his scars. 95% they remind him of his past, but 5% hes alright with them because they’ve shown what hes been through.

deep, deep, deep, deep, deep down, he knows hes fine as fuck. TRUST YALL.

again, super observant and attentive. really pays attention to what you enjoy.

I genuinely don’t believe hes into super hardcore/painful kinks or anything.

Sex for him is definitely a way of showing his trust and intimacy with someone!! Let him show you how much he loves you and how much he wants to make you feel good! Do the same to him !!

mmm tell him how good hes doing and hes a absolute mess!!

praise him! PRAISE HIM *im yelling from the hospital bed im strapped down on*

wouldn’t let you ride for awhile, but once he’s comfortable with it ,, he’s actually obsessed.

cant see him bottoming , just wouldn’t be comfortable with it

my brain is getting messy so im stopping here! feedback and comments would be cool if you wanna drop some!

[mmikmmik]

Mirabelle seems notably oblivious among the ISAT cast. She doesn't seem to pick up on any of the sus moments. She totally misreads Siffrin as a person prior to the events of ISAT and her Act 5 Friendquest fell apart because Siffrin was being a tactless jerk, but also she immediately read the worst possible motives into their fuck up. She thought the stylish woman from Dormont hated her. She's shocked to realize hatecrushes are a thing in real life and Isabeau talks like that's not the first time Mirabelle has seemed naive about attraction - that's a relatable aspec experience, but she's also been in a living situation where she could have picked that kind of stuff up if she'd been more observant - I bet Houses of Change have crazy relationship drama haha. Mirabelle also was apparently unaware of the Head Housemaiden investigating Wish Craft or of her own roommate building a bomb in their room.

But even though Mirabelle isn't exactly a keen observer of human nature - she has something meaningful to say about almost every single person you see in the House. She thinks of Claude as her obnoxious roommate, but has still learned a lot about her and describes her positive traits generously, and immediately realizes the implications of the frozen Claude's presence so deep in the house. Mirabelle can't instinctively read a mood or pick up on little details like Isabeau or Odile can, but she knows a lot about people she's around a lot because she cares enough to deliberately learn these things. She admits herself that she didn't understand Siffrin because she was consciously choosing not to try.

I think you see that in a few other areas of Mirabelle's character. She's very... hmmm... I don't know if proactive is the word exactly, because she does drag her heels and get scared and avoid talking about her feelings, but she's very deliberate about making choices. She actively makes decisions and commits to them, rather than just reacting. Which sometimes... well... I think she could have done with some more navelgazing before signing up to Fantasy Tinder a dating service. But I think it often serves her well, like her Act 6 talk with Siffrin about how she wants to deal with her anger at them in a productive way, and how they both need to work on sharing their feelings more.

With agency being both one of Mirabelle's positive traits, and something she personally values (the "no spoilers" talk), I'm really glad that she always strikes the final blow on the King. (...I mean. Except for that one time he killed himself by thinking too hard.) There's probably something meta to say about the framing of ISAT as taking place at the end of a JRPG-style game in which Mirabelle was the hero, but I can't think of it right now. I just think she deserves to have that moment. He attacked her home! He started shit and she finished it! I'm so glad there was dialogue in Act 6 to gas her up for it. She did it!!!

[tiazennie]

₊˚⊹♡ ₊˚⊹♡

All my fault Genre: fluff and a lot bit of angst hahaha Chenle X Reader Warnings: swearing and superpowers which is crazy. corny way of writing, and lastly the amount of times the word guilty and the phrase "all my/your fault" was used lmao. (lmk if there's more!) Background: You've always treasured stargazing. perhaps as a little child, you were amazed by how the stars shone brightly on you despite their millions or perhaps billions of miles away, and it was your only source of comfort when something upsetting occurred. It all began, you and your parents discovering that you generate electricity each time your heartbeat rises above 80 beats per minute. However, today is the day that you had the worst day of your life! Someone chooses to sit in your usual park place, making things worse. ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪

It was nothing unusual to your parents to see you frowning as you made your way to the park. Most of the answers were the same, and they knew that inquiring would only make things worse. Since it was the weekend and they thought maybe you might go together to the beach to let it out and spend some time as a family, they decided to ask tomorrow instead of letting it go today. Even worsening your already unpleasant attitude was the realization that someone else was occupying your preferred location within the park. You wanted to just run away and electrocute him then and then. However, you remained composed and just requested him to go.  "Um, hi! you're sitting on my favorite spot." The guy looked up at you and gave you an unimpressed look. "Hello, I'm sorry but this has no writing that says 'Please don't sit here' so anyone can sit on it whenever." He replied to which you acknowledged. Most people just roll their eyes and leave, but he was persistent on staying. "This is fine, I like a good challenge." You thought before replying. "Still, you're sitting where I sit everyday." You say emphasizing the letter/word "I" as he poked his tongue out in his inner cheek out of annoyance. "Fine, I'll leave in one condition." You roll your eyes mentally, "every time." You thought. "What is it? Give you five dollars or pick up your things for you--" "Give me your number." He says cutting you off, immediately showing a shit eating grin after seeing your flustered reaction. "My- my number? Please like I'd believe that." You reply ready to leave after you hear a beep from your heart monitor. You had to run and fast! "Wait-" He almost said before hissing after feeling an electric shock throughout his whole body. He felt numb and paralyzed. You looked back and saw him having trouble breathing and shaking uncontrollably. You wanted to shake him out of his situation, but hearing your heart monitor still beeping you thought it would make it worse so you decided to call 911. "H-hi I'm seeing a guy getting electric shocked, please come and hurry!" You stutter before ending the call and crouched beside him immediately wearing your emergency gloves so if things like these, happen you could shake them out of their consciousness, to lessen the effects of the electricity coursing through their veins and knock some senses into them (After you make them lose theirs). "Please stay with me, fuck this all my fault." Right after saying that he stops shaking and carefully stands up. Scrunching his eyebrows in an attempt to remember the things that just happened and why his head suddenly started hurting. "W-what happened?" He asks snapping you out of your thoughts. "I-I you were--" You were cut off by the ringing of the ambulance and the people inside it making tons of noises. Someone pushed you out of their way to check his vitals. "Put him inside now!" Someone shouted, and that someone was your Dad. "What did you do now?" He asks as tears started to build up in your eyes blurring your vision. "I'm sorry, This- this all my fault Dad, I didn't m-mean to harm him." You whispered barely audible for your Dad to hear. But he was sure, you were blaming yourself again. "Just get inside the ambulance." You obey what he said careful not to touch anyone to not make the situation worse.

After that was a blur. You could barely remember anything because you constantly spaced out. Already knowing what's about to come to you in your house. You were cut off from your thoughts, when a nurse called you and said the "patient" wanted to see you. Nervous, you stand up, your legs wobbly from the happenings and the thought that he might want answers to what just happened. You enter his room quietly, not wanting to disturb him from looking outside his window. His eyes were twinkling, just like the stars that were sprinkled all across the sky. "Hi, again." You speak up audible enough to make him look at you in surprise before smiling. His smile somehow made you feel comfort and genuineness. You couldn't even explain what was happening to yourself after seeing his pretty smile. "Hi, so Y/n I need answers on what just happened why I am here lying on a hospital bed." You knew it. he could see the hesitation in your eyes and he was about to say take your time when you replied. "You see um, what's your name?"" You ask out of curiosity as he chuckles, he somehow found you cute in a awkward way. He liked how straightforward you are with your actions and words. "The name's Chenle." He says trying to ask for a handshake as you just looked at it, confused on what to do. Your parents never taught you those things, in fear that you might hurt someone unkowinglly. Although, the name did sound familiar to you. "Here goes nothing." You thought inhaling as much air as you needed to calm down. Breathing helped you in calming down. Especially, when the cause of your heartrate to go up was near your personal space, and was about to pop the little bubble you had always imagined as a kid so people won't come near you. "It's your choice if your gonna believe me or not." You said and explained everything from when you were a child finding out you had that condition and to now, why he was here in the hospital.

"So you're saying, I made you flustered and it caused your heartrate to go up causing you to produce electricity because your heartrate went up to 80 percent. So now, I'm here at the hospital because of electric shock?" You nodded embarrassed and ashamed, you just wanted an earthquake to spilt the floor you were standing on and just swallow you whole, in other words. You wanted to die. He looks at you with a 'are you serious face' before saying you needed to prove it to him, or he'll press legal charges on you (which was a joke, but you totally believed him). "How? Oh! I know." You started running, wishing your heartrate would go up because your shoes squeaking the floor sounded so awkward. After a few seconds your heart monitor finally beeping and you planned on touching your phone to charge it, when instead a mosquito landed on your nose and it kills it. Chenle looks at the mosquito not even a hot second and bursts out laughing, as you just looked at the poor insect full of guilt and now embarrassment after hearing his laughter. Heck, you didn't even know you could do that. "Do you believe me now?" You ask still out of breath. Feeling as if you had just ran on a marathon. He nods trying to keep his compoture and not remember what just happened to the mosquito.

"It deserved it, after almost ruing your porcelaine skin." He thought nodding to himself. "I was actually hoping you could forgive me after what I said in the park, and now." You speak up facing the floor. This was the time where you appreciate how pretty the floor is right now. Scared on what he was about to say. "It wasn't your fault besides, I've always wanted to be electrocuted." He admits in an attempt to lighten up your mood. It wasn't working, not even one bit, and he knew it. When he saw one tear fall down on to the floor. God, your heart felt like it was about to burst because of guiltyness. He was trying so hard to make you feel good that it felt bad. You knew it was your fault, why wasn't he believing it? Why was he persistent on making you feel okay, when you shouldn't be? This was all your fault, all your fault he's here and all your fault that your dad might lose his job again. "Why are you trying so hard on making me feel okay, Chenle?" You say seriousness lacing your voice, you hear him sigh as he attempts (horribly) to sit up from his bed. "Cause it really wasn't your fault Y/n. Your dad came in a few minutes ago, and explained everything to me. He told me that you would oftenly blame yourself on situations like these, and i get where your coming from. I do also, blame myself when something happens in my familly. But, I never really thought how much it affected the people around me, and after seeing you I felt pittyful of myself. I felt so shitty, that the reason why I never gotten close with my parents was because I kept on pushing them away because I was always blaming myself."

Chenle says, making you realize that maybe he was really right. Your parents were trying so hard on being the perfect parents for you, but you couldn't appreciate that because of your ongoing 'all my fault' mindset. You sigh and hug him, which caughts him off gaurd but he hugs you back even carresing your back. "Thank you." You say quietly as he smiles in the crook of your neck. "I'll wait for you Y/n, until you're ready. But don't take too long, I am not a very patient person." He says making you laugh, and he was sure this wouldn't be the last time he'll make you laugh. Fin (hellooo, I appreciate you sm for actually reading until the end to this piece of trash that I wrote also this was kind of short since I wrote this out of the blue at around 1 in the morning. I couldn't sleep because of stress and everything that's going on in my life (jk I have sleep paralysis). Anyways, hopefully you liked this (although it was shitty) and enjoyed reading it! Please stay hydrated and hopefully you get a good day/night. love yaa!) -Ria-

[thatfandomslut]

I'm Not Your Person

Karen Shetty x Reader

Word Count: 1k

Trigger Warnings: while I don't think the ship is bad in the sense of this fic Karen/Gretchen is a TW, unrequited love, angst, and alcohol consumption

Request:

Valentine's / Followers Celebration; Karen Shetty w/ quote 17 and piece of chocolate 8. Or: “I came here tonight because when you realize you want to spend the rest of your life with somebody, you want the rest of your life to start as soon as possible.” w/ unrequited love

Valentine's / Followers Celebration Requests are closed.

(Y/n) sighed as Regina patted her shoulder with a sense of sympathy. There were times when she wasn't as cold-hearted as she could be. She knew how (Y/n) felt about Karen, and she wished that she could help her. However, Gretchen got to Karen first, and now they were a couple. Now, they were in the cafeteria, sharing a kiss as Regina, Cady, and (Y/n) entered to go sit at their table. There was a horrible feeling brewing in (Y/n)'s stomach as she watched this exchange, not knowing if she should leave the lunch room to cry, or if she was going to put on a brave face and be supportive.

She had reminded herself how weird it would look if she didn't show up to lunch. It was a Wednesday, and Karen had texted her to see what pink outfit she would be sporting the night before. It was strange to be hopeful one minute just for your world to come crashing down the next minute. Cady gently patted the seat next to her with a sheepish smile. (Y/n) smiled at the offer as she accepted, not looking at Karen or Gretchen. Even if they had stopped kissing, she still wasn't ready to look either of them in the eye. How did she not know they were into each other? Was she so blind to her feelings that she didn't realize Karen could like someone else? Let alone someone else liking her?

(Y/n) felt queasy and she felt like she could cry, but she didn't want to overly observant honey-blonde that Karen locked lips with moments earlier to realize she was upset about something. That would unintentionally open Pandora's box, and she didn't want that to happen. Especially not now at lunch. Instead, she stayed quiet and smiled over to everyone as they spoke. As her mother always said, "The trick to being happy, baby, is to fake it until you make it." Looking back, this wasn't the best advice but she knew her mom's heart when in the right place when she received it all those years ago. Her mother couldn't predict that she would attach herself to that saying.

"(Y/n), did you hear me?" A voice caught her attention and she blinked when she met Gretchen's eyes. She then realized that all eyes were on her. While Cady and Regina looked on with a bit of worry, Karen and Gretchen held a curious stare. Gretchen's brows furrowed as she looked over the confused expression on (Y/n)'s face. "Okay, so it looks like you didn't. I was just wondering if you needed a ride to the party this weekend. Karen and I can pick you up after our date."

Date. It was like a stab to the chest. (Y/n) was about to decline the offer, but Regina entered the conversation for her. "I'll get her. I wanted to try this new make-up look on her." Regina gave her a nod as (Y/n) glanced over at her thankfully. This seemed to please Gretchen as she turned her attention to Regina, asking about the make-up look. Cady gently nudged (Y/n) in order to hopefully snap her out of any future zone outs. It seemed as though (Y/n) was in and out of consciousness, even if she was fully awake. Who knew unrequited love was an out-of-body experience? In Karen's defense, only (Y/n) fell in love, and she wasn't even aware. So, she was safe from any of the bad feelings that (Y/n) felt in her chest right now.

At the party Saturday night, Regina was giving her several shots. One after another, (Y/n) found herself growing more drunk by the second. By the time Karen and Gretchen entered, their fingers intertwined, (Y/n) was fucked up. "Wouldn't it be crazy if I just told Karen how I felt? Like that would be so fucking crazy, right?' Regina eyed the girl, now realizing her mistake of giving her so many shots. "I'm not gonna, 'Gina. I'm just saying it would be wild." (Y/n) shrugged, leaning into Cady since her balance was so poor. Cady held her up gently as she looked over to Regina with worry in her blue eyes.

When (Y/n) saw Karen alone, she patted Cady on the shoulder. "I'm gonna go to the restroom," she said, declining Cady's offer to go with her. She and Regina seemed to know what she was going to do. But, they knew that (Y/n) was too stubborn when she was drunk. So, they were sentenced to witnessing (Y/n) approach Karen as Gretchen went outside to retrieve something. "Karen, you look great. Do you know something? I'm in love with you. In fact, I came here tonight because when you realize you want to spend the rest of your life with somebody, you want the rest of your life to start as soon as possible. Isn't that crazy?" (Y/n) slurred, leaning against the wall as Regina came over slowly to grab her.

Karen glanced over and didn't see Gretchen. She sighed softly, placing a soft hand on (Y/n)'s shoulder. "You're drunk," she said as if it wasn't obvious. "And I'm not your person." She stated sadly. She didn't want to hurt someone she considered a friend, but she wasn't going to lie to (Y/n) about her feelings either. Not when she was genuinely happy with Gretchen.

(Y/n)'s face went blank at her bluntness. "I- I know that," (Y/n) felt like the world might be spinning as she looked back to see Regina. "Regina, can we go?" She asked. She looked sober for a moment, even though Regina knew she wasn't. Regina extended an arm and (Y/n) practically fell into it. Karen decided not to tell Gretchen what (Y/n) said when she approached. She didn't want to ruin Gretchen and (Y/n)'s friendship. Instead, she just said (Y/n) was drunk. And though (Y/n) wasn't typically an emotional drunk, she was crying into Cady's shoulder as soon as she saw her.

Cady and Regina took (Y/n) out of the party as she cried, and Regina checked to see where the Uber was. "It's going to be okay, (Y/n). You're going to find your person, I promise." Regina assured her. But (Y/n) wasn't so sure about that as she continued to cry into Cady's shoulder, wishing she said nothing at all.

[loxymoth]

{WHITEBEARD PIRATE'S X READER}

{WARNINGS: ANGST, FLUFF, MENTIONS OF BLOOD, BONES, DEAD BODYS, HOLE IN SIDE, MISSING ARM AND INSIDES}

THIS GENDER NEUTRAL READER!!

"NAME!" Ace shouted as he saw you get hit by a strong attack as you went into a wall

'every thing hurts like a bitch goddamn'

i thought as i just layed there to rest for a few minutes not even prosessing ace yelling my name and the person walking towards me cackling like a crazy person

'why does he laugh like that?' i thought when i heard him cackling

As ace saw you just lay there and not move as the person wallked closer to your body he turned raged he burned the rest of the peaple he was fighting to nothing but ashes and ran over to where you and the person was now standing over you

as i looked at the person standing over me i just realized i might finally be in trouble

As ace now was behind the person already tuning his hand into fire and ready to burn the person

marco swooped down and grabbed my body as he saw what happened from where he was

as the person got distracted by marco picking up your body ace made his fire turning flaming hot and shot fire at the person burning him and hearing him scream as he burned down to nothing but ashes

skip to marco setting you down on the ship and healing the minor injuries on you while you were barly holding on to Consciousness and the nurses running around you while trying to tell you to stay awake

which of course you didn't because you lost so much blood at this point how could you and you were tired

marco and the nurses were cussing to them selfs as you had a hole in your side which had bones sticking out with some of your insides poking out with blood gushing out of it

AND you had no arm which makes that worse because even more bloodloss which were scaring marco and everyone else that you weren't going to make it because it didn't look good untill one nerse came out and everyone was so happy to see her

skip to ace being surrounded by dead bodies of the peaple that they were fighting as everyone was finishing up at ace walked to the ship

everyone was happy to see the nurse who came out rushing to your side as she saw the hole in your side and your missing arm as she sighed and begun healing the hole as that is the part thats the worst one

as it healed up fully the nurses carried her to the kitchen to get her somthing because she used alot of energy on you

as the other peaple begun taking care of your missing arm and getting you to a room to properly heal

as everyone finally got back on the ship ace asked where you were as the nurses triedto calmhim down as they lead him to your room

as i opened my eyes everything stung as i looked at the sealing when i heard the door open ilooked over at a sobbing ace as he ran over to where i was and just held me as he balled his eyes out telling me im okay over and over

"ace are you alright your balling your eyes out alot there?" i said chuckling alittleas he was stunned before balling again saying how sorry he was that he didn't protect you as you tried soothing him

he stayed with you the rest of the day after that but he needed to do his dutys so he reluctantly left as other crew members visited you while you healed

a few weeks later they finally let you out and you were so happy finally

as you finally healed fully the whitebeard pirates watched you more after that

A/N: im sorry if this is bad, this is my first fanfic😅😭

[birdy-bat-writes]

Anakin Skywalker x Reader Headcanons

Pairing: Anakin x Reader

A/N: I don't think there's anything that requires a content warning in here. Maybe suggestive content?

I'm a hopeless romantic so here are random everyday things I feel Anakin Skywalker would do that could be so romantic and attractive:

I don't know if guitars exist in Star Wars but in real life, Anakin would help you tune a guitar. Maybe you’re struggling to get one of the strings just right and he hears you playing from another room and walks in to see you strumming the strings over and over.

“Ani, while you’re here, does this sound right to you?” You strum along the strings and he walks over to you, wrapping one hand around your shoulder and listening closer.

“I think it needs to be a tad lower. Here.” He says, holding up the neck of the guitar to allow you to reach the tuning pegs better. One more strum and it sounds perfect and you both smile at the sound. Then he sits and watches you play with a goofy smile on his face that makes you blush so you play him a love song that makes him blush harder.

Bringing you food to your work or class and just dropping it off for you so he doesn’t take up your time. It’ll have a little note on it that won’t be crazy cheesy. Just sweet and thoughtful, like, “Don’t want you forgetting to eat again, babe :) Love you! P.S. I picked up the dry cleaning.”

Sometimes when he wants to be cheesy to get a rise out of you, the notes will say things like, "Do you like raisins? How about a date?" in a box full of raisins.

Coming home before you and he doesn’t want to change into pajamas just yet but he wants to be comfortable so he’s walking around with his robes completely open across the chest. And he doesn’t even seem to notice that you be taken aback to find him like this when you come home.

He’s walking around, setting the table, doing laundry, all half shirtless. He only realizes you’ve been staring a little before dinner and finds it really amusing.

For some reason I imagine him to be really clueless when shopping for groceries or necessities. From what I understand, the Jedi temple seems to have everything a Jedi needs within its walls; food, water, bedding, etc. So when Anakin tries to surprise you by cooking for you, he has to give up on his plan and call you to ask which store to go to for different ingredients.

He knows where the basics are, but if one store he goes to is closed? His whole plan is in shambles because he has no backup.

He mainly wears his robes but he owns shirts and pants, and some of them are way too small for him now, but he keeps them around for you to wear when you want something looser to wear and loves to see you in his clothes.

Anakin strikes me as the type of guy who'd be really good with dogs. Seeing him play around with a huge German Shepherd or a Mastiff feels like such an attractive thought for some reason?

Like, you two could be talking while sitting on the floor and while he's talking, he's smiling and petting your dog who's cuddled up against his leg.

Anakin would love to take you out on dates, but to maintain the secret aspect of your secret relationship, he has to take a few precautions.

He would find the most remote, beautiful planets to take you to. Dinner and dancing, walks along the... well, not the beach because you know, sand. But long strolls in flowery meadows and swims in lagoons with waterfalls.

Anakin would also be one of those people who just stop for a while and stares at you in awe. Not for long and usually not consciously, but he'll look up from what he's doing randomly and let his eyes wander around the room until they catch you in sight and he'll just let his vision focus there, a smile forming on his face.

It's almost gotten him into trouble when it happens in public.

He'll just watch you for a few seconds at a time admiring what he has in front him. you once asked, "What are you looking?"

"I'm looking at you."

"Why?" you laughed out.

"Because I can't help it sometimes. You're just so pretty." and you just shut up because now you can't form words.

[tetraharmonic]

Finally jumping on the oc train 👁 👁

I present, the inspector Kira and her other harem!

Aria Bell, second year (kinda self insert imho)

- cannot stand her last name, ready to smack Amano senseless if he doesn't stop singing the Bells of Notre Dame anytime he sees her.

- American Exchange Student, gifted student burnout. Was on track to go Ivy League but her pact got in the way big time, and she spiraled. If it didn't come easy to her, she hated it, and gave up, because she never learned how to work for things until late into highschool.

-Made her pact to protect her younger sister from a hit and run. The demon paused time to give her the one chance, and she took it without even thinking of the consequences.

-Her stigma, Augere, allows her to amplify her own abilities based on her own self confidence and belief she can accomplish it. She used it to enhance her speed and push her sister safely out of the way. It caused an uproar about super humans and all that, which resulted in being transfered to Darkwick. Now, she just uses it to absorb herself completely into her studies and enhance her memory like crazy.

-She can fight, but she doesn't want to. She'd rather dodge, avoid, and outsmart an opponent before it even starts.

-Absolutely thriving in Hotarubi, enjoying her time there as a poet.

-Her artifact is a cloak of invisibility.

- picks at her nails, Kira smacks her when she does, only for Irina to smack Kira for smacking Aria.

Irina/Hisako

-Was known as Hisako while she was alive, but she couldn't remember her name, so she picked one from a TV show she saw as a ghost while haunting a hospital. She goes by that name now, Irina.

-She regained consciousness in a hospital, and kept herself entertained by observing the processes and procedures, as well as enjoying the conversations of both the people there and on the televisions.

-Was believed to be a vengeful spirit, and so, Darkwick sent the Mortkraken ghouls to retrieve her. She turned out to be a Yurei, or a Zashiki-Warashi, as the patients in the hospital had an unnaturally high success rate: she was blessing them all when she could. She came back to Mortkraken willingly, after the promise that she would be helpful to them.

-She discovered ghouls pretty early on, and, as she watched them all, she felt the strong urge to be like them, or at least, able to reach out and touch them. So, despite being only a soul, she sold it all to a demon, naively believing she could defeat it even in this state. Whether she will or not is unknown, but, in making the deal, she's become tangible and can feel things again.

-She can't taste or smell anything, except two things: blood, and apples.

-If the academy finds out what she is, she'll be sent to Obscuary. It'd break her heart though, as she would do anything to be a doctor like her current housemates, and give them a chance to rest since she's unable to sleep even if she wished to.

-Detatchable prosthetic arms. She doesn't have an artifact, so she detaches one and uses it as a flail instead.

-Amano doesn't trust her.

-Has an unusual twitch in her right middle and pointer fingers, and a habit for breaking and entering.

Amano Watanabe

- Squirel shifter anomaly, but don't let that fool you, Irina says he probably has rabies.

-Formerly an apprentice at a temple for a kitsune, with other shifters running the temple (a fox and an elk). Realized he wasn't fit for it and pestered Darkwick to let him in. Quickly also realized once in, he couldn't get out.

-Highly sensitive to spirits, but not nearly as strong as Haku is. Insists Irina is not to be trusted, and isn't an innocent ghost as she claims to be. And it's not because of her pact, either.

-He would wear an "I eat cement" shirt unironically.

-His artifact is a Taiko drum.

-Loves to pester Aria, because he finds it ironic that anyone in Hotarubi would have such a music heavy name. Bells and Arias? Seriously?

-Chilling in Jabberwock, but often doesn't hang out with the others due to the heavy work load.

Kira, Aka Inspector Gadget

-honor student, but with no honor

-consider your shoe rights revoked

-I haven't developed her yet but all I know is that one more order from Jin and she's going to start doing crimes.

-uses metal bottlecaps as currency for favors, as well as other shiny objects.

There is not a single braincell between them, and I am very normal about them.

[fierymiasma]

✰ Homecoming ✰ Part 2 // Dark!Sebastian x f!MC

Summary: She isn't sure if allowing an escaped Azkaban prisoner to stay with her is a good idea.

Sebastian does everything in his power to convince her otherwise.

Tags: Slight!Choking, Dark!Sebastian, AgedUp! AU, Azkaban!Sebastian, angst, Making out, Jealous!Sebastian, Obsession, Possessiveness

A/N: Since this will be a series, I decided to name my MC for ease of writing. Her name is Beatrice Booker!

Words: 3.3k

|| Masterlist || AO3 ||

Part 1 Here!

The first thing that she felt when she came back to consciousness was the sharp piercing pain from her back wound.  Her head nodded forward sleepily before something sharp jabbed her right in the eye.  Her head snapped back in pain as her eyes started watering.  Blinking drowsily, she looked at the wand in her hand that had traitorously stabbed her in the eye.  Now, fully awake, she was hit was several realizations at once.

Beatrice Booker had fallen asleep sitting upright on her bed, back against the wall, wand in her hand, ready for a surprise attack.  She had planned the stay up the whole night, watching Sebastian as he slept for the moment that he would wake up and….and…well she wasn't sure what she was expecting him to do but certainly something nefarious and evil.

Fuck she was getting soft.  What would Professor Hecat think of her, or worse yet Professor Sharp who always preached the importance of constant vigilance?

Stupid, stupid, stupid.  What in Merlin's name was she thinking?  She must have been going crazy to pull off what she did.  Breaking her crush friend out of the most heavily guarded prison in the wizarding world.  Kissing him in the most heavily guarded prison in the wizarding world.  Merlin, that kiss.  His lips,  his teeth.  His tongue.  There was something….dangerous about Sebastian.  How was she, one of the greatest duelist of this generation so easily defeated by a simple pair of lips?

It…it must be some form of new wandless dark magic Sabastian managed to pick up during his time in Azkaban.  Yes, that was the most logical explanation as to why his kiss and tongue were so addictive.  So warm and inviting.  So…  Her whole face went red.  Stop.  Don't even go there.  Don't think about Sebastian's mouth.

Speaking of….where was he?  Off to prepare an ambush?  Slowly, as to not make any sudden noises, she crept from her bed, silently.  She held her wand out, ready for a fight.

She didn't have to get very far.  There, at the end of the bed, was Sebastian.  He was curled onto his side on the hard wooden floor of her cottage, fast asleep without a pillow or blanket anywhere near him.

Beatrice Booker flushed, suddenly ashamed of her paranoia.  She stowed away her wand.  Deek would be ashamed at what a bad host she had been.  She should have at least offered the available couch or conjured up a new bed for him.  Sebastian probably hadn't even thought to ask for them, either too polite of a guest or just so used to the awful accommodations of Azkaban.

The thought made her feel even worse about how she treated Sebastian. 

Crouching down above the sleeping man, she examined his face.  Without the shadows of the prison bars, she finally got a better look at him in the daylight.  Asleep, he looked so soft, as if he were never capable of the awful things he did.  He looked boyish, and young, as if the weight of Azkaban had never touched his soul.  His freckles still dusted his cheeks and eyebrows still thick and handsome.  His jaw had a hint of facial hair, something that she was still getting used to, and she slightly mourned the baby faced cute Sebastian from her youth.

And his hair…it wasn't as long as it was it Azkaban, he must had cut it sometime after getting out.  The strands were a bit uneven as if he had cut it himself.  Some curls cascaded over his forehead.  She missed his gelled hair from their youth. 

Without thinking, her thin fingers reached out.  She yearned to brush his hair away from his face, to see more of his carefree visque.

The second that soft pads of her fingers touched his brow, he jerked awake.  Before the either of them could fully react, his arm shot out, a rough hand wrapped around her throat, squeezing tightly.  Sebastian was hyperventilating, his chest heaving with exertion.  Expression clouded with sleep, he tightened his grip around her windpipe.  Sebastian peered about wild-eyed, trying to take stock of his new surroundings.  Panicking, Beatrice's hands scrabbled at the hand around her throat.  She couldn't breathe.  Couldn't even scream out for him to stop.

"S….Se---Seb….' She gasped.  Her eyes pleaded for him to stop.

Was this it?  Sebastian's true nature?  After every adventure she had been through, was this how she was going to die?  Payback for the years she had stolen from him.

Ominis and Anne were right.  She was a fool playing with fire.

The primal fear in his eyes slowly blinked away as he realized who he was choking.  His hand released her as he withdrew his hand quickly as if it had been scalding hot.  She gasped for air, thankful for the fresh oxygen flowing into her lungs. 

Sebastian stared at his own hand in horror, the blood draining from his ashen face.  He stood, frozen, terrified of what he had just done.

He breathed in sharply.  "I'm sorry.  I hadn't meant…I wasn't trying…'m sorry, Bea, I didn't."

She coughed.  "It's…it's fine.  Forgive me, I shouldn't have snuck up on you."

He hugged himself tightly, hiding his hands by his sides.  "I'm sorry.  I hadn't meant to hurt you.  I thought you were the dementors."  Sebastian whispered so quietly, he might have been talking more to himself than to her.

Gingerly, she massaged her throat.  It felt tender and bruised.  Sebastian had gotten a lot stronger than she had last seen him.

She wondered what that strength was capable of.

Her cheeks colored shamefully as her mind wandered towards an obscene direction.  She coughed politely.  "Breakfast?"

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Deek had once told her that it was easier for witches and wizards (and really all folk) to have difficult conversations on full belly instead of an empty one.  So she waited until they had finished their breakfast and tried to ignore the painful way that Sebastian ate her mediocre cooking like a man who had been starved. 

"You're a free man now, Sebastian."  She was turned away from Sebastian as she washed the dirty dishes, too nervous to look at him in the face.  "What is it that you plan on doing with your life?"  She asked.  A part of her was almost scared to find what the answer would be.

"Be with you."  Sebastian answered her so quickly, that Beatrice doubted he put any thought behind it.

Her hands paused, dripping with soapy water.  Her eyes flickered upwards, to look at Sebastian's reflection in the kitchen windo.  He was lounging at the dining table peacefully.  Sebastian's chin was propped up on his chin, relaxed, as if he had already made himself a home.

She rolled her eyes, huffing at his response.  "No more of your silly jokes, Sebastian.  By no means do you plan to spend your freedom chained up to boring ol' me."

He was silent.  She frowned, puzzled.  Looking back up at the window, she was surprised to see that the seat was now empty.

Where did he go?

"Do you really think that lowly of yourself?"  A low masculine voice whispered in her ear.

She jumped, dropping a clean plate back in the soapy water.  When did he get up and sneak up on her? 

Sebastian was next to her, and suddenly, very, very close.  His eyes narrow with irritation.  "You have a magic beyond human comprehension.  Why continue to just sit here in Feldcroft waiting to grow old and forgotten?  Together, the both of us have the strength to take what is ours.  Come with me.  We could rule the world together.  Take what is ours."

The small hairs on her arm stood to attention.  The quiescent ancient magic that she had suppressed threatened to burst through her veins.  She was sickened to find how a part of her was entertaining his suggestion.  To follow in Isidora's footsteps. 

Misreading her hesitancy, Sebastian backpedaled.  Perhaps he had come on too strong with her.   

"I…I simply want to be by your side."  Sebastian's heart stumbled over its own rhythm.  "We could do whatever you want…be here or simply run away together."  His voice cracked.  "I don't care, so long as I am with you." 

She bit her bottom lip.  Was Sebastian always this vulnerable around her? He always seemed so confident and brash when they were younger.  Sure they became fast friends but…to profess this strong of feelings for a girl that he met a decade ago?

Clearly, his time at Azkaban had warped his mind, twisted it to think that she was even worthy of his time or affection.  As soon as he realized that she was the cause of all his misfortunate, Sebastian would smarten up and leave her.  Settle down with someone who was…better for him.

Sebastian's sick mind was all her fault.  If only she hadn't sent him to Azkaban.

She squared her jaw, decision made.  Sebastian would stay with her.  She could fix him, so he would realize that this…these feelings he had for her…were all lies, some type of coping skill he had developed to fight against the dementors.

After all, it was the least she could do for him.

"Stay with me here, Sebastian."  She decided,  "Stay with me here in Feldcroft.  You will always be able to find a home here with me."

Sebastian beamed. His entire face was lit with a glow that mirrored the warmth in his heart.  His slime, infectious and genuine, was so inviting that she couldn't help but smile back at him. 

He looked exactly how he used to…back then.  With the sunlight hitting his brown irises, she could almost pretend that the same cocky 15 year old boy was in front of her now. 

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Secluded in a far corner of the library, Sebastian and Beatrice, hid away from Madam Scribner's prying eyes.  Sebastian loved these moments where he got to be alone with her.  With her entirely focused on the schoolwork in front of her, he could stare at her unabashedly for hours on end. 

His voice was light and teasing.  "You got be pulling my leg.  You against three cave trolls, all at the same time?  Now, I bet that was a duel worth seeing."

She giggled.  Their spellbooks long been completely forgotten.  "Sebastian, You don't think a girl is capable of fending for herself?"

Sebastian rolled his eyes fondly, nudging the girl with his shoulder.  Even through their thick robes, he could feel the warmth of her body heat.  "Far from it.  I'm only jealous I didn't get to watch.  You must bring me along next time."

She tucked her hair behind her ears, blushing under his gaze.  "Of course, n-next time."

His eyes disappeared behind his smile.  "Next time."

·͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙

Beatrix Booker dropped her sponge into the water, soapy dishes forgotten.

Sebastian Sallow was now next to her in the Kitchen.  His body was incredibly close to her's.  A part of her thought he was a bit too close but another part of her selfishly preferred it.

Words escaped him as he tried to find the words to express himself.

"Beatrice, I-"

KNOCK!  KNOCK!  KNOCK!

The fragile bubbles from the overfilling sink popped, breaking whatever was going on in between them.   The stranger knocking on the door had completely killed whatever Sebastian was about to say to her.

Sebastian stepped in front of her, hovering protectively between her and the door.  Instinctually, he had dug into his pockets for his wand, prepared for a duel.  She couldn't help but roll her eyes in fond exasperation.  "Sebastian, it's all right.  It's just Garrett."

"Garreth?  Garreth Weasley?  From Hogwarts?  He comes to your house?"  Sebastian's stomach dropped.  It was naïve of him to think that just because she was unwed, she wasn't being courted by anyone. 

She gauged his strange reaction carefully.  It seemed like any tiny thing could set the other man off.  "Yes…he does…when I send him owls asking him to come over." 

She moved to get the door for their new guest.

Sebastian stepped in front of her, blocking her path to the front door. 

"You send him owls?"  Sebastian scowled.

Her eyebrows knitted in confusion.  She shouldered past Sebastian, walking towards her entranceway.  "Yes, Sebastian, Owl posts.  How else am I supposed to talk with the bloke?"

His lips curled.  He'd much rather her not talk to him at all. 

In the short time Sebastian had been here, he found himself learning a lot about her life.  For example, Garreth fucking Weasley felt comfortable enough to welcome himself to the private home of an unwed, very single witch.

It was very fortunate Sebastian was here to put an end to this nonsense. 

"Beatrice?"  A very familiar, very annoying, voice called from beyond the front door.  "Are you awake?"

She hadn't even gotten a chance to wash up this morning, having gotten a late start thanks to a certain someone.  Looking at herself in the entranceway mirror, she fussed with her hair so she didn't look completely deranged.

This did not go unnoticed by Sebastian.  "What does Garreth Weasley want from you?"  Sebastian asked, more to himself than to her. 

She raised her eyebrow, still trying to tame the stray flyaways.  "He's a potioneer.  He delivers potions to me."

Likely story.  Beatrice was one of the most skilled potioneers in their class. What did she need from someone like Garreth?  Unless this "potion" was just an flimsy excuse for the former Gryffindor to make a pass on someone who was so clearly Sebastian's. 

"Beatrice!  Wake up already!  It's well past noon!"  The annoying git called from beyond the front door.

"Just a second!"  She called out making the final adjustments to her appearance.  Finding her presentation decent enough, she moved to grab the knob of the front door.

A coarse, rough hand firmly grasped at her slim wrist, holding her in place.

Beatrice huffed.  "Sebastian.  What is your problem?  It is quite rude to ignore the man.  He came all this way-"

He was hovering close to her.  The muscles in his jaw flicked angrily.  "I.  Don't.  Care."

Ugh.  It seems as though she would have to make him relearned the manners that former Sebastian once had.  "Sebastian, let go."

"No."  He growled.

She stilled.   Sebastian had never once denied a blatant request from her like that.  Alarmed by his words, she took a proper look at him. 

There was a predatory expression on his flushed face.  His lips were pulled back exposing clenched teeth.

"What's the matter with you?"  With her trapped wrist, she pulled Sebastian closer to her to give him a proper talking to.  "It's just Garreth.  He's harmless." She moved to get the door for their new guest.

"I don't want him to see you like this."  Sebastian sneered, pulling her closer to him protectively.

Now she was truly loss.  She was no different today than she was yesterday or the day before.  "See me like what?"

See her so beautiful, so gentle and soft, and so unclaimed….

…Sebastian had a solution for this.

Using the muscle he had built up in Azkaban, he pushed her back against the front door with a rather loud bang.  She gasped in surprise.  Biceps stranding, Sebastian hoisted her up off the ground, her back sliding upwards.  Fumbling with shock, she wrapped her legs loosely around his waist, less she fall onto the floor.

This was scandalous.  Obscene.  Completely bonkers.  Garreth was right fucking there, separated only by a wooden door. Sebastian was behaving animalistically.  She should stop him.  It was improper for a woman of this day and age to have a man in the house much less, touching her in this manner.  A real proper well-behaved witch would use some wandless magic and depulso him away.  Properly smack him for good riddance.

So…why didn't she?

Sensing her unspoken interest, he started nosing at her neck.  He inhaled the sweet scent that he had longed for over the past ten years of his life. 

Her breath hitched.

"Scared of me, sweetheart?"  His breath tickled the shell of her ear.

Whatever snarky reply she had prepared was lost in her throat. 

"If you don't want this, say the word.  Say that you're not absolutely loving this, and I'll leave you alone with Garreth fucking Weasley."

Her chest ached with a fluttery sensation.  Was Sebastian truly telling the truth?  Could she trust him?  Fuck it.  Manners be damned.  Twisting her hands into fabric of his shirt, she pulled him closer.  Merlin, she never wanted to let go.   

"Is everything alright in there?"  Weasley called, interrupting their bliss. "I heard a loud noise!  Beatrice, shouldn't move so much when you're injured!"

"Tell him to go away."  Sebastian growled against her warm neck.  Gentle lips trailed kisses on the angle of her jaw.  "Tell him you're mine."

She tried to same something semi-intelligent but only whimpered in response.

Sebastian's canine brushed itself against her carotid.  He nipped at her pulse point, so eager to consume her.  Latching onto her neck, he nibbled at the tender skin there.

A hiss escaped her clenched teeth.  "Ow!  Sebastian, what are you? A vampire?"

Sebastian's tongue ran over the fresh bite mark apologetically.  His mouth travelled elsewhere on her exposed neck, exploring uncharted territory.

"What in Merlin's name is wrong with you?"  She half-heartedly tried to protest.  "Garreth's on the other side of the-'

Mentioning the other man's name was perhaps not her brightest move as a rough growl ripped its way from Sebastian's throat.  He sucked at the flesh above her collarbone, no doubt leaving a mark to claim her as his.

She shivered with desire.  All her thoughts seem to melt away and were replaced with the euphoric satisfaction of finally being complete.  All those years alone, by herself in this sad small house.  She felt whole with Sebastian.  Her surroundings, her worries, her nagging thoughts seemed to melt away under his touch.  Her heart-

-"You okay in there?"  Garreth's voice sounded genuinely concerned now.  And a part of her feel bad that she was ignoring a dear friend.  "I..know you've been going through a lot, with Sallow passing away and all." 

"Merlin, does he every shut up?"  Sebastian grumbled into her hair. 

This situation was going to escalate quickly if she didn't regain control.  "I-I'm…ahhh Sebastian, fuck, give me a minute."  She raised her voice louder so it could be heard from outside.  "I'm sorry Garreth, I'm not quite feeling myself!" 

Sebastian snorted.  She nipped his lip in retaliation.

"Can you leave the healing potions on the welcome mat?" She shouted  "I'll pick it up later!"

There was a long stretch of silence.  For a second she was wondered that Garreth would find her behavior so suspicious that he would demand entry and the two of them would be caught in such a compromising position.

Well…now that she thought about it, it was probably more suspicious that she was harboring a famously dead now escaped prisoner in her small cottage. 

Finally, after several heartbeats of painful silence, Garreth relented.  "All right, fine.  Your potions will be out here whenever you're ready.  But you can't keep ignoring your friends forever.  It's been a month since….you know….  Poppy, Natty, and I…we're worried sick about you!"  

Guilt twisted in her gut at his words.  Her mouth was so dry.  Her head felt so foggy.  "Thank you, Garreth!"  She called out.

The hands on her hips tightened their grip on her.  No doubt leaving bruise marks in his wake. 

Once he heard the sound of retreating footsteps, Sebastian returned his focus on her neck, no doubt, upset that her attention was being taken away by another man.

As time passed, and the rest of her once pristine neck was marked up, Beatrice wondered if she would ever be capable of letting go of Sebastian Sallow.

[rpedia]

[Ask RPedia] Writing Panic Attacks?

@twodemigodtraveleroflorien​ asked: Any advice on how to RP a character having a panic attack

Sure! As usual, ‘show don’t tell’ is gonna be big here. By that, I mean describe what is going on through connected ideas, not straightforward ones. When someone is in love they smile, and gaze, and touch. When someone is angry they sneer. When someone is scared they sweat, and triple check nothing is behind them. Don’t ever just say ‘Mary was scared’ unless it’s a stylistic choice to give a certain feel to your writing. Pick it consciously as what your story needs, or not at all.

Beyond that, panic attacks can hit in a ton of different ways. We’ll get into this below, and describe not only panic attacks, but some methods on how to help them. If you’re sensitive to this material, please don’t walk in knowingly, fuck yourself up, and have a bad day. I love you kids too much for that. Also remember this is for roleplay, I will be discussing the awkward as fuck things, like “picking which symptoms match your character” and “using panic attacks in plot.” 

Writers, amirite? (Please only continue if you’re in the mental space for it! It can get graphic and triggering. Take breaks as needed.)

To reassure my readers, yes, I have had panic attacks an awful lot. So I can actually speak from experience for once. But only my experience, so give me some slack if yours hits you differently, or if I don’t nail it. Give other writers that slack too, and don’t think one size fits all will ever work here. Give them the benefit of the doubt, so long as they make a decent effort. No one needs their panic attacks nitpicked, it’s either from personal experience or to further the plot. Do either of those things really need someone telling them right at that moment they’re not doing it right? If they’re just making a mockery of it OOCly, go ahead and rip ‘em with facts. ICly, well, Jan. It’s supposed to be problematic, that’s a plot hook for character growth. If it bugs you, communicate that OOCly you’d like to move on.

So anyways, let’s just waltz right into the thick of it. According to the diagnostic criteria listed in the DSM-5, panic attacks are experienced as a sudden sense of fear and dread plus four or more of the following mental, emotional, and physical symptoms:

Heart palpitations or accelerated heart rate

Feelings of numbness or tingling sensations

Excessive sweating

Trembling or shaking

Shortness of breath or smothering sensations

Feeling of choking

Chest pain or discomfort

Nausea or abdominal pain

Feeling dizzy, unsteady, lightheaded, or faint

Chills or hot flashes

Derealization and/or depersonalization

Fear of losing control or going crazy

Fear of dying

So immediately we realize, not everyone’s panic attacks are going to be the same thing. Some people get their heart beating a mile a minute, and feel like they’re miles away, are scared they’ll die, and be afraid they’ll lose control. Some people will have aggressive chest pains, start sweating and shaking, then feel like they’re going to pass out, choke, and vomit at the same time. Can you see why those would present differently in a roleplay, or how they’d fit different character models better, or even the outcomes of these on different personalities? That’s important to the writer right there. You have to understand your character and how they would experience fear, and sensations that are unpleasant, and which ones they’re feeling.

The only thing that is solidly in every panic attack is that sudden feeling of dread or fear. People who have not had one can relate to it, honestly. Have you ever turned off the lights in your bathroom or some dark spooky hallway and suddenly felt like something was in there? Then you have to fucking run before the thing gets you, or turn on a light to check, and the hairs rise on your neck and your eyes open up wide enough to suck in every photon of light for miles because suddenly your brain wants the power to see in the dark? Yeah. That creeping feeling of being prey is the dread and fear. Yes, people may feel these differently. Fear is not exactly one size fits all. But this is a pretty good start to understanding the drop of an ‘oh fuck’ barreling down on you from behind.

Myths abound on panic attack causes, but the truth is simple. Sometimes, they happen because something triggered it, but a lot of the time there is no trigger. Your body just decides to fuck you over because that seems like a great idea right now. You can’t even really avoid them by sleeping. That’s right, you can get panic attacks while dead asleep. That’s so thoughtful of them, they don’t want you miss out, I say in the most sarcastic voice ever.

The good thing is, no, you can’t die from a panic attack or be ‘driven insane’,and no they aren’t just you overreacting to fear or pain. They aren’t even always part of a panic disorder (other disorders bring them to the party too). The good news is, although they suck rancid eggs, they can be managed. If you treat some of the underlying causes, you can help lessen them over time. 

What disorders are linked? Oh boy, that’s a hell of a list. Anxiety disorders are a big one, agoraphobia, OCD, depression, Bipolar disorder. They all like to invite panic attacks with them. Other fun party guests are eating disorders, personality disorders, and substance-related conditions. Heck, GERD, IBS, and sleeping disorders are also friends with panic attacks. So while writing your character, look at what might be the underlying cause of it. Whatever building blocks you pick end up visible in not only panic attacks you decided to throw in to make the scene worse, but a constant background noise to their lives.

That’s one of the important things you need to remember. If you choose to give your character a condition like the above, there’s a couple rules that make this go over a lot better with the community. Let’s look at them.

Do not only use it to get attention. It may be plot relevant, but if it comes up every single time the spotlight is off you, it gets old quick. This is a shitty medical thing, not your golden ticket to being fussed over.

Do not use the disorder as their only personality. You have a character who happens to have and live with the disorder, not a walking form of the disorder who happens to have some character stuck in there.

Do not use it to only have good things happen. Realistically, you may get a panic attack at the worst time ever and fuck everything up. Don’t make it a ‘get out of jail free’ card, balance it with bad timing and bad outcomes.

Do not play Sympathy Sue with it. We don’t want to have to coax, dote, and protect your character every step of the way in a story without them ever showing signs of doing anything but keeping the attention on them and their issues. In real life, real people have personalities beyond their issues, they have friends, they tend to learn how to manage things over time. So let your character grow, and show themselves too. In writing, we do this for fun and to escape bad things. We don’t want to shoulder something during playtime, we may encounter often in real life.

Do not go into this without research. Practice writing up little stories to describe the symptoms. Read everything you can. Look up webpages, blogs, and everything where people are offering the information on their struggles freely. 

Make sure everyone in the group is comfortable playing this out. It can trigger things when you go whole hog descriptive about every symptom they have until they suddenly start having one in real life because fuck, they’re right there again. Never surprise someone with a panic attack in character unless you know it’s okay, or are willing to just skim over it.

Understand the gist of why these exist? Good. Go with the spirit of them, not the letter of them. Basically respect, even though as writers we intentionally use them for plot and growth, we should not abuse that ability by lacking respect for the real people who have them. Be tactful, be polite, be respectful as the person behind the keyboard. Anything that isn’t tactful, polite, or respectful had better be in character, and had better relate to the plot and characterization pretty damn well. You should also make it very obvious that you disagree with the character in narration. If they say something crass or obtuse, point out that they said something crass and obtuse. 

“It’s not like it’s really that bad, you’re just scared right? Get over it, you whiner,” he said, sneering. His lack of empathy for the subject really showed his lack of experience with it.

Tada, by adding in one line, you’re a better writer in general, and have accurately explored characterization while pointing out you recognize he’s a total asshole. Doing things in a way that clearly shows you give a damn and understand what you’re choosing to let the character do is the key to not pissing someone else off.

Okay so back to the attacks! These symptoms are basically just names right now. You can say what’s happening straight out, and that’s cool, but... how do you make your reader empathize with them? You’re going to want to explore each of these feelings in writing, or at least the ones you know you’re going to use. This is homework! Explain each of these in detail in a way you can connect with them. Put yourself into your character’s position, and write from the heart.

Their heart racing, what do they feel when this happens? The skipping beats that feel awkward and clunky? The way you can feel it pounding along, a mile a minute, ready to burst out of your chest? Go running, when your heart rate gets up there, you’ll really fucking quickly pick up on how that part feels. The pounding, heaviness of a heart going so fast your shirt is trembling, and your hands can’t stay steady. Describe it, describe how that heartbeat going mad feels to you and how out of place it is.

Tingling and numbness? You might have had a limb go to sleep before, use that as a jumping off point. Except in a panic attack, it’s everywhere and the pins aren’t painful. They’re just a loss of feeling everywhere. Your hands tickle with them, your skin feels like it’s tightened up weird, and can’t feel like it used to even if you’re hypersensitive to touch. Sweating so much you soak the sheets? Use that experience, the dripping, the suddenness. How it contrasts with the temperature being comfortable. Sweating from anxiousness or nerves. Damp palms. I fucking hate flop sweats like that, because I end up with a disgusting feeling scalp, wet neck, and my body is just damp all over after I’ve been through an extreme.

Everyone’s probably trembled in their lives. A shiver through your limbs. What happens when you tremble? Is it harder to write, or grab onto things? Is your grip worse? Explore how trembling effects your environment as much as it effects you. It helps to understand that the tremble is sudden, violent. You cannot stop it, it’s beyond your control, and you struggle to keep yourself from showing it a lot if you’re that type of a person. Since it’s down to personality, someone might have a shaking quavering voice, or they might be hiding that shaking hand and stiffening up to hide it all from the others.

Choking, smothering, unable to breathe... well that sounds like running to me, but I’m out of shape as hella. Crying does it too though, unable to get past a throat filled with snot. The absolute lack of breath, it’s like you’re depressurized. Remember nothing, from the feeling of choking, to the stitch in your side, to feeling sick to your stomach, is exclusive to a panic attack. You’ll probably have encountered being dizzy or light headed in your life without ever seeing a panic attack. Chills and hot flashes too. They can be way more extreme, like sitting there shivering and teeth chattering despite being in a 85°F/29°C room. Just absolutely taken by how cold you are, and nothing can warm you because you’re already sweating. It looks a lot like a symptom of shock, which is why they throw those blankets over you after a severe accident of any kind, even if you’re not hurt.

While you’re looking at those, don’t just look at the symptom. Look at the character’s reaction to the symptoms. Does stomach pain make them cry? Does it make the shortness of breath worse? Do they have sweating, lightheadedness, hot flashes, and nausea and just wave it off as a thing that’s happening because they’re scared? Mix and match. Some characters handle things better than others. Some have different reactions. Find them, and pull them out and shove them in the light for other people to see.

The final symptoms are a bit more in-depth because we can’t find aspects of them to jump off of from real life. Derealization, depersonalization, a fear of losing control or not feeling ‘sane’, or a fear of dying? These we might not feel very often or at all if we’re neurotypical. So we’re going to rely on people who have experienced them to learn about what they’re like. That’s dangerous territory, be respectful when you explore it. Not sure where you’ll find details on these without stepping on toes? Hi! I’ve had all of them, so lemme get down to brass tacks and tell you what they may be like. Once again, one person’s experiences do not equal all people’s experiences, but as an intelligent person with critical thinking you knew that and were totally going to google Reddit threads and blogs about the subject if you intended to write them, right?

So, derealization and depersonalization are very interconnected, which is probably while they’re listed as a grouped symptom in the list. They are experiencing the feeling of becoming entirely unhinged from either reality, or yourself. It’s a wild sensation to be several feet outside of your body, watching as everything happens. It’s even more wild that it can vary, a few inches away, or even just ‘somewhere else’ while your body keeps going. You can lose your entire grip on a situation, your mind fully consumed with something else, to the point you don’t really feel like it’s you talking, or moving. 

Same thing when everything stops feeling real. Like you’re in a movie, or a dream, watching shit play out you have no control over. Yet, you function through it. On autopilot, saying the things you would say, doing the things you would or should do. Even though you’re feeling a bubble or padding between you and there. In my case, I’ve definitely felt like I was underwater, and should be unable to breathe, but I was breathing fine, looking through this glassy feeling at a body that was going through a panic attack, but it wasn’t really me. It was a bunch of chemical firing, everything happening felt rehearsed, fake, and far away. Like, it had been predetermined to happen, and I had no control over it. 

It’s varied between feeling like I, personally, am not the person doing shit. I look into a mirror, and some stranger is looking back at me, who has the wrong everything. Sometimes everything isn’t real, there’s no way everything can look like this can feel like this when the world is shutting down for me. I am empty, why is the world doing this, it cannot be real. Except it is. This is such a numbing, empty experience, that it leaves you really struggling to find something to anchor yourself to. Those are not my hands. My hands aren’t that size. This room is not my room, it looks wrong, the color is off in a way I can’t describe, the comfort isn’t for me. It’s really fucking mindboggling, and all this?

Is on top of other symptoms. At the same time. My dude lemme tell you, wearing another person’s skin and watching them unable to breath because they’re choking on air, while they suddenly go freezing cold, teeth chattering, is a TRIP! 

Fear of losing control or going crazy is fun too, in the way that I can being super sarcastic on one hand because it’s not fun at all; and also very very genuine because I have an analytical mind and it’s cool to see my own brain degrade in front of me. When in the throes of this, I definitely know I’m not insane, but what if I am? What if this is the moment I snap and lose it entirely? What if this is the terrifying reality now, that I’m never going to get any of these other symptoms under control, and instead I’m going to get worse and start chewing the walls and attacking people left and right? What if this is my breaking point? 

The terror just eats away at you, because no matter how much someone says that you’re gonna be fine, and that you’re not insane, they have no idea. They’re not a professional, and they don’t have some kind of little device that lets them see what’s going on in your head. When your thoughts get jumbled and frantic like that, it can super feel like you’re losing the plot entirely. You really do start to believe there’s no hope for you and they’re going drag you off and drug you up because everything that makes you you has spiderwebbed into this wild ass new person who has had their sanity ripped out of their hands. 

I blame Hollywood for a lot of this, because you see this kind of thing happen. Someone becomes too emotional, and wa-bam, they never come back from it. They got comatose, or hysterical and have to be dragged away. They never quite make it back to their former selves, and that! Is! terrifying! And just the kind of unrealistic thing a mind having met it’s limit would throw at you because it can no longer keep track of what is actually happening.

Fear of dying is the last one, and after the things above, is it really any surprise that you might feel like you were dying in the middle of all this? Now the last time I got this, I had managed to get a head injury and a seizure so maybe it was an ickle bitty bit of a realistic fear. (Also, I’m fine, but obviously some things have happened since I last wrote for you guys, be nice to me.) With all these feelings of rushing inevitability, fear of the end of yourself is RIGHT up there waving its hands and demanding to be seen. This is, I also got this from... slightly cutting my thumb while cooking.

It doesn’t have to make sense, I knew my thumb was not going to bleed out, but I was ready to face death because oh no, something terrible has happened. My brain saw one big drop of blood, and it was done. I was officially dying. I would lose the thumb, I would get gangrene, I would die in a corner somewhere. It became something that overwhelmed all my senses and I had to lay down for a while and let it pass. All I wanted was someone to be there for me while I was inevitably dying of a boo boo. That’s how extreme it can go from literally nothing, so it’s super hard to shake off if you pick it as one of your character’s responses!

Now if you had to take a break during this at any time, that’s perfectly normal. It may be a sign that you shouldn’t RP this situation though, because that’s gonna be even more intense. Plus, if it’s tied to your character, and you’re the type to be inside your characters POV for the smoothest writing process? You might feel like it’s happening to you. Method acting can bite you in the ass if this is something you can trigger by experiencing it. On the other hand, RPing your way through it can help compartmentalize it, and putting those horrible feelings into a new situation can help you recontextualize it from an outside perspective. Making it easier later to go through a panic attack because now you have another experience to draw from. There’s a reason Therapists like it when you roleplay.

Just remember, roleplaying is for story and fun. If you find yourself far too deep, aftercare may be needed. You don’t have to always ask someone else for that, you can just give yourself something relaxing after play. Hit up your favorite goofy TV show. Eat a treat you really love and let yourself be in the moment while you savor it. Take a nice warm bath if that’s the kind of thing that relaxes you. Sure, it’s roleplay, but it can have a real emotional effect on you, same as any other experience! So, if you need to, find someone you can talk it out with. If not friends, then a professional who can give you the tools to make the most of your new experience in helping yourself. Hell, if you simply got to the end of this and feel drained or something, go give yourself a treat and cool off a bit!

Anyways thank you for reading! Hope this helps in really expressing panic attacks a little more clearly in text, but always remember to CHECK IN on your partner. Make SURE they’re comfortable with the level of detail you want to get into! If not, go for a lighter hand! Write a vignette on the side, and upload it to your Tumblr as a fanfic of your RP if you wanna prove your skills without effecting other people! Tag your shit! Be aware of those around you, and really do make sure everyone’s comfortable when you’re exploring topics like these.

If you try your best to get it right and do the research, it’s obvious to others. You’ll be fine. Happy RPing!

[cyberrat]

88th Batch Of Fics: 5th Fill

Hanzo/Cassidy – Off Limits AU – intercrural sex; dirty talk; feral behavior – Hanzo tries to egg him on but Cassidy is just too much of a good boy for that.

---

Cassidy does, in fact, not punish Hanzo like he told him to. He moves, though; rolls over until he is crushing the young Alpha beneath the heavy bulk of his body; suffocating him beneath the heat and sweat and thick Alpha smell as he starts to growl.

It’s a low growl; reverberating against Hanzo’s shoulder blades and making his tongue once again feel too thick for his mouth. His body spasms briefly, attempting for about a second to instinctively fight the other Alpha off before his limbs become… soft. It feels like hot water is slowly pushing through his veins, leaving him uncomfortably tender and helpless.

His head is turned to the side, staring at the stump Cassidy’s left arm ends in. He’s braced on his elbows and the thing is just right there next to Hanzo’s face. He stares at the gruesome scars, thinking back on the story Cole told him in abstract flashes of memories that are not his own.

Cole is pressed against his back, his hips keeping up a slow, pumping rhythm; fucking between Hanzo’s thighs. The growl is rumbling through Hanzo’s body until it feels like it is vibrating right behind his eyeballs. He closes them slowly, then opens them up again in the same molasses tempo.

“I dunno what’s going on in your spoiled little head,” Cassidy suddenly says. Hanzo startles at how close he sounds. Right against his ear. In his mind’s eye there’s a flash of Cassidy’s mouth; his big crooked teeth with those intimidating, sharp fangs. His insides quiver, cock pathetically twitching where it is caught between his belly and the bedding. “But I won’t hurt you, you brat. I won’t… I won’t punish you. What the fuck even-”

He breaks himself off. He’s panting hot and explosive, the warm breath fanning against the nape of Hanzo’s neck, immediately making him feel even more tender and needy and vulnerable. There’s a thin cord strung through his body, trembling and seconds away from snapping.

He knows it will be good when it does. He knows it will be terrifying. His eyes roll into his skull and he whines, thin and wheedling.

Cassidy’s thrust start to pick up a little, if just so. They become harder, though; his hips slamming against Hanzo’s ass. It’s like he is getting spanked and that is a whole different thing that lodges itself in his brain with sharp fangs.

“I won’t… I won’t h-hurt you,” Cole chokes out. His voice sounds disturbingly watery; like he is crying even as he fucks Hanzo’s thighs in bone rattling, slow thrusts.

The cord is stretched so, so tight. Hanzo whimpers again, his fingers digging into the pillow like claws. His back arches because he can just not do it; he just can’t not push his ass up into the Alpha’s hips as he follows the tightness off the cord, hoping it won’t snap. (Hoping hoping hoping it will snap oh fuck he needs it-)

Cole’s breath is still fanning out against the vulnerable skin of his neck. He’s so close that Hanzo can feel the barest brush of lips against the first knob of his spine.

The cord is starting to fray.

A stark whiteness is approaching at the edges of his consciousness, his mouth just hanging open.

“...You crazy little bitch,” Cole rasps on a little whine himself. He slams his hips down again, pressing a warm kiss against Hanzo’s neck. He can feel the vague firmness of teeth just behind them, but there’s not a single sharp edge touching his skin.

The cord suddenly goes limp as white overtakes Hanzo’s brain and he starts coming in unison with the big Alpha on his back.

The Alpha that had been so perfectly reasonable and steadfast in the face of Hanzo’s wholly unreasonable demands.

Well… well fuck.

Hanzo slowly unclenches his fingers. His palms ache vaguely. His whole body aches. And his cock is still twitching, still warm and swollen even in the sticky, warm mess he’s made.

His knot is swollen, too, he realizes dimly. Just like… like… between his thighs he can feel Cassidy’s big fat knot. It’s impossibly hot against his skin. The thought that he could push him off now does not even ping on his radar; he just clenches his thighs shut even more and listens to the rattling whine coming out of the Alpha. His breath is coming in hiccuping, hot little bursts.

Is he so pathetic that he’s crying through an orgasm? Hanzo’s lips twitch, trying to pull into a sneer that never comes. Because a moment later he feels Cole nuzzling against the back of his neck, the tip of his nose brushing just along his hairline there, followed by his mouth pressing searing, lazy kisses into his skin over and over. Touching Hanzo’s nape without a hint of teeth. (He needs them in his skin, tearing in until there’s blood.

The cord trembles pathetically but ultimately stays limp.)

“Fillin’ you up so good,” Cole slurs. He slowly lowers himself until his front is pressed into Hanzo’s back. For a second Hanzo thinks that will be it but whatever is going on inside the big bastard’s head (not much, he’s sure), he just seems to let go and completely lies down on the younger Alpha, making him bear his weight. Crushing him into the bed and the hot mess they’ve pumped out underneath him.

“Gonna breed you so good, pretty boy,” Cole croons, nuzzling up to behind Hanzo’s ear and then breathing obnoxiously right into it until there are tears of overstimulation starting to itch at the corners of his eyes. His body trembles, a pathetic little whine shivering out of his throat.

“What… what are you talking about?” he asks despite himself.

Cassidy seems barely even aware of his surroundings. His knot is still impossibly fat between Hanzo’s gently clenching thighs, his erection snuggled up against his damn balls. He’s just so long. It’s difficult to wrap his head around.

Cole shushes him softly. He presses his cheek against Hanzo’s and rubs them together as he croons: “Don’t worry, babydoll. Gonna take such good care of ya. Pump you full to the brim with my puppies.” He moves his hips slowly, just barely moving his knotted cock back-and-forth.

Hanzo’s brain feels swollen in his skull all of a sudden. He wonders if Cassidy is taking the piss with him to get back at him, but the way he’s talking it just sounds so… earnest. Maybe he’s just completely cum drunk.

Maybe in the aftermath of being able to awkwardly pump out one of those massive loads and dominate another Alpha, Cassidy’s brain just completely checked out.

And wouldn’t that be a thing? Wouldn’t that just be something? If an Alpha like Cassidy became just so… sweet after ‘knotting’ someone? Even after all the filthy shit Hanzo threw at his head just moments earlier? Egging him on, trying to make him loose composure, trying to make him be rough and feral and mean?

All Cole wants is to love on him, babbling about how full he is going to pump Hanzo’s nonexistent womb. How he’ll take such perfect care of him with money he obviously doesn’t have.

Details. Details. Cole would probably figure something out.

It’s enough to make a man feel almost guilty.

…Almost.

Heh… right…

[xoxiu]

first love of late spring - ot7 x reader

chapter seven

table of contents masterlist join the taglist discord

summary: falling, falling, falling- that's what you shouldn't be doing as a young intern at hybe. falling in love with your supervisor is frowned upon, especially all seven of them. you'll never learn, will you? guess you’ll just have to be their dark secret.

tags/warnings: intern!reader, poly relationships, stockholm syndrome, age regression, spanking, drug use, sugar daddy au, dubcon, body dysmorphia

taglist: @frieschan, @savagemickey03

Pain was the first thing you felt as you slowly gained consciousness. Your head throbbed, and your eyelids still felt heavy. Nothing felt real, almost as if you were still dreaming. You raised your heavy hand to rub your pounding head, only to have your elbow bump into something thin and metal. Curiously, you cracked open an eye.

The lights were dim yet blinding, but you could make out multiple thin, black metal bars to your left. Rubbing your sore eyes, you made a pitiful attempt to sit up. Once you had your bearings did you realize where you were.

You were at BTS' dorm. More importantly, you were in a metal dog cage. You tried to think about how much you drank last night to end up passed out in a dog kennel, but you couldn't remember anything from the night before. Did you really drink that much to blackout?

As you became more aware, you noticed the dog cage was decorated. Multiple blankets were stacked underneath you, with a velvety royal purple one twisted around your legs. There were multiple stuffed animals along the edges, with a giant pink axolotl squishmallow you used as a pillow. Fairy lights were weaved through the bars, softly twinkling in no particular pattern. Looking up, you noticed a pastel rainbow canopy hanging above you. The curtains surrounded the entire cage, making the room look as if there was a rainbow filter over it.

You scavenged about for your phone, not sure where it was amongst the blankets and stuffies. Picking up the squishmallow pillow, you found it resting up by the back of the cage. As you went to grab it, you noticed something just to the right of your phone.

A pacifier.

"What the fuck...?" You asked yourself. Quickly, you grabbed your phone and covered the pacifier back up with the squishmallow. All you could do was sit in absolute confusion, allowing yourself a moment to try to rationalize your situation.

"Ah, good morning," Jimin's voice brought you back to reality. He sat on the couch, and you had to wonder how he got there without you noticing. Was he there the whole time and you just didn't see him?

"What happened last night?" You asked, tongue feeling heavy in your mouth. "It must've been crazy enough for me to end up in a dog kennel."

Jimin laughed gently as he stood up. He walked closer to the cage and bent down so he was at eye level with you.

"You could say that," he smiled, fiddling with the lock on the cage. "Well, you had a bit too much to drink and ended up passing out."

"I can assume that," you said, frustration growing in your voice as you watched him playing with the lock, yet not actively unlocking it. "But what happened? You guys don't even own a dog, why am I in here?"

"You wanted to be in there, remember?" This time Taehyung spoke from the doorway. "You were all excited to sleep in your own little cage, it was cute."

With your mouth agape, you looked back and forth between Jimin and Taehyung, absolutely speechless. There was no way you asked to be put in a cage like an animal. You stumbled on your words, unsure of what exactly to say.

Jungkook slowly walked up next to Taehyung, and you immediately took note of his arrival on the scene.

"Jungkookie!" You called out, but his attention was already on you. "Jimin and Taehyung are being weird."

The maknae chuckled before waving his arm nonchalantly. "Jimin hyung, let her out." Your eyes never left Jungkook- he acted like this was the world's most normal thing, just like Jimin and Taehyung.

Jimin unlocked the cage and swung the door open, allowing you to crawl out. Once you were face-to-face with Jimin, you spoke more urgently and demanded.

"No, something's wrong. What's going on?" You asked, crossing your arms across your chest as you looked around the room at the three men. "Where is everyone else?"

"At the office already. We were just on our way there." Taehyung spoke up, obviously avoiding your first question.

It was strange. The three of them were acting as if this was the most normal thing in the world. But, you could tell they were hiding something; something that they weren't telling you. Even Jungkook, your closest friend and confidant, refused to look you in the eye and held the same smug smirk that the others had. Everything was very confusing- it was like an inside joke they weren't letting you in on.

————

"y/n, my office, now."

You did a double take at your supervisor's unusually strict demeanor. Most days you were greeted with a smile and small talk, never an aggressive command. So far, nothing today felt normal.

As you closed the office door, you attempted to ask the boss what the issue was. Before a syllable could escape your mouth, he began questioning.

"You are aware that having an inter-office relationship is unprofessional? Especially one with idols?"

Mouth agape, you weren't sure what to say. At some point, you expected this conversation, but now you really wondered what happened last night to bring it to your boss's attention.

"I'm sorry, sir. I'm aware of it, and I will try my best to rectify it." You replied, head deeply bowed partly out of respect, and partly to avoid eye contact. When no response was given, you cautiously looked up.

"Are you, though? Everyone saw you last night, all your coworkers, colleagues, superiors... Everyone. You shouldn't be sorry, you should be ashamed."

Your boss slid his phone across his desk, indicating for you to pick it up.

"Look. Tell me the context of those pictures."

With shaking hands, you took the cell phone off the desk and began inspecting the first photo.

"It's at the bar. I'm sitting on Jung Hoseok's lap...?" You rattled off what you saw, becoming more and more concerned with each photo.

None of this seemed right. You didn't remember a thing, yet these pictures painted a picture of someone that wasn't you. Your boss demanded you scroll to the last photo, voice still stern and furious.

"It, uh, it looks like Kim Seokjin is carrying me out to his car. I'm-" a semi-opaque logo in the bottom right corner caught your eye- Dispatch Korea.

Oh, yikes.

"I think you found the bigger issue here," your superior said smugly, smirking at your shocked face. "You don't have to worry about that bit- our legal team is on good terms with Dispatch's publishing team. They'd be dead in the water if they posted that.

"Nevertheless, your antics could have potentially ruined this company. Don't interact with the talent anymore. You're on desk duty."

The pit in your stomach worsened as you sat down in your cubicle. Not a single one of your coworkers greeted you- in fact, they walked a bit quicker past your desk than usual. Everyone must have known at this point.

You opened your laptop to your workspace, but not a single assignment, goal, or job was listed on Jandi. Essentially, you were on paid administrative leave. Closing your laptop, you quickly packed up your things before leaving the office. As you walked through the halls, people stopped in their tracks at the sight of you, looking wide-eyed as they saw the talk of the office in person.

Rain poured down towards the ground as you opened the lobby door. Of course, it was pouring rain today. You checked the balance on your T Money card in hopes of taking the bus home, only to be met with an insufficient balance. Just your luck, you thought. Walking it was, then.

By the time you arrived at your apartment, you couldn't distinguish the tears from the raindrops on your face. Your apartment was freezing cold and you were soaking wet- immediately you began to get changed into warmer, dryer clothes before settling into bed for a sob.

You stared out the window your bed was next to, letting the thunder and raindrops racing each other on the window lessen your sobs, eventually lulling you into a comforting sleep.

————

The sound of a blender startled you awake. You quickly sat up, your eyes falling upon no other than Kim Seokjin. Letting out a sigh of relief, you relaxed back, only to then notice Hoseok laying in bed next to you.

"Oh, Jesus!" You nearly had a heart attack at Hoseok's close presence, grasping at your own chest.

"Not Jesus, just Hobi," He said with a silly smile, pulling you down so you were laying on top of him. Your muscles tensed at first, only to then give in and relax against his muscular figure.

"What are you even doing here? Weren't you told not to see me anymore?"

"Does it look like we care?" Seokjin asked, not once looking up from his cooking in your tiny kitchen. "Besides, we basically own and operate this country. We do what we want."

"You might, but I don't. I basically got fired today indefinitely because of you."

You glared daggers toward Seokjin as Hoseok gently rubbed your back. His kind touch only made you feel angrier, resulting in you violently throwing yourself away from him.

Finally, Seokjin looked over at you. You leaned against the corner of the walls while sitting cross-legged on the bed, arms crossed and an angry, annoyed expression on your face.

"Do you not care about my life at all? Am I just something for you to play with? I woke up in a cage this morning, for God's sake, and no one is telling me anything!"

Hoseok was about to speak up, but Jin beat him to it.

"I can see you're experiencing some big feelings right now. We'll talk more back at the dorms once we're done with our snack."

All you could do was stare at him with a confused look on your face. Nothing was making sense today.

[thatspiritualbabe]

Why Manifestation Isn't an Exact Science

It's been 3 1/2 years since I discovered manifestation and lately I've been reflecting on my experiences. When I first discovered manifestation, I completely immersed myself. I became fascinated with this new world, this new way of life. I, like many others, assumed if I consciously manifest, I would never have to endure any sort of hardship ever again. Unfortunately it doesn't work that way. It's more about how you respond to life's ups and downs. You will have some wins and some losses, but you pick yourself up each time. I think many view manifestation as a way to control everything and everyone.

I remember early on in my journey I was randomly added to a manifestation FB group and one of the girls used to describe walking down the street pointing her fingers at people like zap! zap! zap! I control you! and you! and you! and...

Yes, you can utilize manifestation to have people treat you better in general. Yes, you can manifest an SP who never had feelings before to suddenly see you as relationship material. But you're gonna drive yourself crazy if you use manifestation to micromanage every person you have to deal with. There's still gonna be people in your life who are lazy, unreliable, rude, and just downright assholes no matter how many affirmations you throw at them.

Manifestation has taught me I can have what I want, but that doesn't mean I wouldn't still find myself in situations that no longer serve me. Manifestation has shown me my self worth. For example, I had manifested the specific jobs I had wanted but I've also been mistreated by coworkers and employers, and had to make the decision to choose my self respect and move on. I've had success in manifesting specific friends (that never wanna hang out) to extend an invite my way on occasion but I've also realized I may be better off going general and manifesting a new set of friends that meet my wants and needs. It's not always about "everyone is you pushed out" (EIYPO) or self concept or limiting beliefs. Sometimes the way a person treated you had everything to with them and not with you.

Controlling health is tricky territory. Yes, I believe you can improve your health or the health of loved ones through manifestation. But I don't think it should be used as a substitute for medical advice/treatment. Think of manifestation as a supplement to that, not a replacement for it. I see so many people who rely on manifestation and beat themselves up if they don't get better with affirmations alone. Use manifestation to help you find the right doctor, the right treatment.

Practicing manifestation doesn't mean you'll never have a hardship again, however, it can help you feel empowered and confident that you'll overcome the challenges you're faced with. I hope this makes sense, and I hope it helps you. I've seen so many people go to extremes with manifestation over the years and beat themselves up over the any inconvenience that comes their way. Manifestation is a beautiful thing, and it can lead to success in so many areas of your life. I just don't like seeing people be too hard on themselves if not every single thing goes their way. Remember: manifest not micromanage.

If you made it this far, please consider liking, following, and sharing. I'm still new to this and I appreciate all of the support I've gotten so far. Even if I reach one person, I'm happy to be helping that one person and making a difference. <3

[ikeromantic]

Entwined, Ch 8

Part 8 of a multipart series. Mai has been reborn in the modern age after a full life in the Sengoku. The warlords as spirit animals find her again after 500 years of searching for her soul. Approx. 2800 words.

Part 1

Previous: Part 7

Mai swam to consciousness slowly, aware first of the feeling of motion. The subtle vibration in the soft leather seat. The press of the safety belt across her chest. The muted rumble of the engine and the tires on the road. Her eyes opened, blurry and blinking. Hills and grass sped by through the window to her right. The sun was high overhead in a blue sky filled with white, fluffy clouds. 

“Awake, little mouse?” Mitsuhide’s hand was on hers, his thumb gently stroking her knuckles. 

“Mmm. Yeah.” She smiled at him warmly for a moment, before she remembered what she’d overheard. Mai pulled her hand back, regretting it as soon as she lost his touch. She frowned. “Where are we?”

Mitsuhide chuckled. “Well, after you passed out, I thought you might need a break. So I took you along to visit a friend of mine at the coast.”

“I have work to do this afternoon. And errands. I can’t just take the afternoon to - to play with you.” 

“Mmmm. I think you can. I checked that little notebook you keep in your bag. You planned to pick up beading and embroidery notions and work on a custom design for the emperor’s haori in the play, yes?”

Mai nodded.

“Unnecessary. The back won’t show in any of his scenes. So I’ve saved you some time, which means I get to spend it.” He raised an eyebrow. “Unless there is another objection?”

There was, of course. She knew now that he was in love with some girl from his past. And she knew it shouldn’t matter. Mitsuhide owed her nothing. They were co-workers. Maybe . . . maybe friends? But that didn’t give her the right to feel so - so jealous and hurt and . . . she took a deep breath, trying to organize her thoughts.

Mitsuhide looked at her with concern. “Mai?”

“It’s fine. I’m fine.” She shook her head, letting the breath out slowly. “Look. Mitsuhide. I don’t . . . I don’t understand you. Why do you want to spend the day with me? How did you even know where to find me this morning?”

He laughed. “A master never reveals his secrets. But in this case I can tell you it was just luck. I saw you hurry off the train and just decided that I wanted to spend time with you today. Even if just as your assistant.”

“But why?” Why do you haunt me and tease me and look at me with those warm, sun-gold eyes when there is someone else you love? And why does it bother me so much?

“Ah.” He was silent for a time, looking out at the road with a thoughtful expression. “Would you believe me if I told you we were lovers in a past life and I’ve spent centuries trying to find you again, just to see your smile one more time?” 

“Mitsuhide . . .” Mai sighed. “You're still teasing me.”

His laughter held a false note, but after a long moment he glanced over at her and his smile was as playful and mischievous as ever. “Is that what I do? Hmm. How naughty of me.”

She looked out the window, accepting that he wasn’t going to give her a serious answer. If she was honest with herself, Mai wasn’t sure what answer she wanted from him. What would she do if he said he wanted to date her? She would just tell him no again, because he was a client. At least . . . she told herself she would. 

“Deep thoughts, little one? Do I trouble you so?”

“You are pretty troublesome,” she shot back. 

He chuckled again, this time more naturally. “I suppose I am. So, are you feeling a little better? You had Ms. Higurashi and her fiance quite worried.”

“I am. I just - I don’t know. I’ve been having these weird thoughts pop into my head. Like something from a historical drama. Except I can’t figure out which one I’m remembering and -” Mai paused, suddenly realizing she must sound a little crazy. “I told you about it before, but it’s like, every time it happens I get these terrible pains in my head. It’s scary.” She paused, taking a shaky breath.

Mitsuhide reached over, taking her hand in his. His gentle grip was warm and unexpectedly reassuring. “It will be alright, little one. I promise.”

And as stupid as it was, him saying so made her feel better. As if Mitsuhide could do anything about whatever was going on in her head. But the way he said it, his certainty, made her relax as if he really could protect her. “Thanks.”

His touch lingered even after she thanked him. Mai expected him to pull his hand away but he didn’t and she didn’t want him to so she said nothing. It really wasn’t fair to like someone so much, she thought. Especially someone still pining for an old flame. 

They pulled into a parking area close enough to the beach that Mai could smell the ocean on the breeze and hear the low thrum of the waves rolling in. The sound set her immediately at ease, relaxing a knot in her shoulders that she hadn’t even realized was there. 

Mitsuhide looked across at her. “If you have any lingering protest, little mouse, now is the time to voice them. I can take you home if that is what you really want.” His thumb stroked the back of her hand. 

“I -” She struggled with herself for a moment. It was absolutely not acceptable that he practically kidnapped her on this little venture, but she had planned to spend the day working on the haori for his play . . . “I suppose we can take the rest of the day. But just so you know, if you were anyone else, this would have some serious weirdo stalker vibes.”

He laughed. “I will take it as a compliment that you let me get away with it, then.” His smile faded as he regarded her. “I appreciate your trust.”

Mai nodded. She wasn’t sure how to respond. Mitsuhide was a dark window to her, reflecting back nothing. She felt unsure of his feelings for her, his intentions. He was a stranger. Inexplicable and mysterious. But her heart said to trust him, even if her head told her she was being foolish. 

Mitsuhide reluctantly released her hand and got out of the car. “Come along little mouse.”

She got out and followed him as he walked through the handful of parked cars. It wasn’t a holiday or a weekend, and the weather was still cool so the beach was mostly empty. The only sound was the waves, which grew louder the closer they got, and the cry of seabirds wheeling overhead. 

The sidewalk ended in a wooden staircase down to the sand. A breeze tugged at Mai’s loose braid and tossed Mitsuhide’s hair around his face. She couldn’t help but watch him from the corner of her eye, careful not to be caught staring. He was smiling in a relaxed way, his eyes soft at the corners as he looked out at the blue ocean. It was such a nice expression, Mai thought. It pulled at something in her chest and set an ache in her heart that made no sense to her. 

“I don’t come to the coast very often,” he said quietly. She had to strain to hear him over the waves and the breeze. “I always forget how it makes me feel to see the horizon.”

Mai nodded. She always loved the beach. Her family took a special holiday to the sea at least once a year, growing up. And she made a point to go with her best friends too. Being here with Mitsuhide felt different though. There was that tug in the core of her, and under that a sense of deja vu. Her head began to ache in rhythm with her heartbeat. 

Mitsuhide seemed to sense that she felt unwell. He took her arm gently and walked with her down the stairs and onto the sand. “It’s just a little further to the house.”

“So. Who is this friend of yours, anyway? Will they be alright with me showing up too?” 

He grinned widely. “He won’t mind. That much I’m sure of.”

The house, it turned out, was more of a shop. Two stories, with a wide, covered porch. The front was decorated with a surfboard hanging above the door, and several swimsuits for men and women hung in the downstairs windows. Inside there were shelves with children’s water toys, buckets and forms for making sandcastles, and little colorful arm floats. Music played in the background, a low thrum of rock music heavy on the drums and bass guitar. 

As soon as they walked in, a man came bounding down a staircase at the back, taking the steps two at a time. He had coppery skin and a shock of white hair worn to his shoulders. His arms were heavily tattooed with sleeves of fish and flowers, his hands were gloved, and he wore a gold band a little too short to be a proper necklace and a little too long to call it a choker. But what stood out more than anything was his eyes. Twin rubies lit with an inner fire. Bright and hot and full of some secret joy. 

“Mitsuhide! You old snake!” The stranger grabbed his arm and shook it. “Long time no see.”

“Motonari.” 

That was when those glinting rubies landed on her. For a moment, Mai couldn’t breathe. She felt as if something were around her neck. She heard the word savvy hissed in her ear and smelled sulfur and hot iron. And then it was gone, and there was just the shop and the two men smiling at her.

“Uh, hi! I’m Mai. It’s nice to-”

“Mai!” And before she could say another word, the stranger pulled her into a hug. “I wondered if I would be seeing you around ag- ahaha. So how are you? What brings you two to the beach today?”

Mitsuhide frowned slightly and pulled Mai closer to him, out of Motonari’s unexpected embrace. “She needed to take a day off, so I kidnapped her and brought her here.”

Motonari laughed, the sound a little manic. “That sounds about right. So what do I owe the pleasure?”

“First, of course, I need to get our lovely Mai some proper beach day clothes. And I had a little something I needed to discuss with you, if there’s time.”

He nodded. “For the lady, if I got it, she can have it. For the other,” he chewed at his lower lip. “We’ll see. I stay out of things now. You know that.”

Mitsuhide smiled as if this were the agreement he hoped for. 

“You two can go talk. I - I really don’t need -” Mai started to protest, but Motonari cut her off.

“Ya got flowers in yer ears, girl? Ya heard the man. You need a bathing suit, a cover up. A sun dress. Something to sit on. A parasol. Don’t be shy.” He grinned, eyes flashing. “This bastard here’ll cover ya so don’t be shy.”

“I insist,” Mitsuhide nodded, shooing her toward the racks.

Mai went, only half reluctantly. She did need a new swimsuit for the summer, if nothing else. She was surprised to find that Motonari had a really nice collection. Burberry, Dior, Versace . . . not the kind of stuff she’d expected given the surf-shop vibe. But she wasn’t complaining. She picked five that looked like they might suit her, two cover-ups because you can’t just pick a swimsuit and not having a matching cover-up! And a sundress that was too cute to say no to. 

They guys were standing off to one side, talking intently. Neither of them looked happy. Curious, she idled a little closer to see if she could innocently overhear. 

“Ya can’t force it,” Motonari said, his raspy voice was low and unhappy.

“I’m not. She’s remembering on her own. I just didn’t expect that it would hurt her.” Mitsuhide’s smile was gone, his jaw tense, lips pressed to a thin line.

Motonari nodded. “Well yeah. What’d you expect? Ya think it’s painless to have a whole life tossed in on top of yer own? Poor girl.”

“I don’t know if it would be better to stay away or no. I want to be there for her when she -” Mitsuhide glanced up, a knowing look in his eye. 

Caught, Mai, shifted from foot to foot. “Uhm. I was just wondering. Where the changing room is?”

“To yer left.” Motonari chuckled. He looked like he knew she’d been eavesdropping too.

Mai hurried off, feeling guilty for what she’d overheard, but curious too. They were talking about her. She knew it. But what did they mean? Remembering a whole life? It was like that stupid joke Mitsuhide made in the car. About her being a lover from a past life. Ridiculous.

She wasn’t sure if she believed in reincarnation any more than she believed in some kind of heaven - or hell for that matter. When people died, they were just gone. No one knew what, if anything, happened past that. It wasn’t that she disagreed with the ideas people had, just that she didn’t think anyone really knew. Much less Mitsuhide Akechi, teaser-in-chief. But he hadn’t looked like he was teasing Motonari. They both looked deadly serious.

Would it be so bad, she wondered, if it were true? She wasn’t sure how she felt about that. 

Mai put it out of her mind as she tried on the first swimsuit. It was a little more daring than she usually wore. Though it was a one-piece, the top and bottom were connected only by winding ribbons of fabric. The bottoms had a high thigh line and the top was two ruched triangles of fabric - just enough to make them ok for a public beach and not a stitch more. 

She thought it looked pretty good on her. Almost like a toga turned swimsuit, with the white and gold accents. Mai checked herself out in the threeway mirror. She had never liked the way her butt looked in a swimsuit, but that wasn’t the suit’s fault.

“Are you planning to hide in there, Mai? Or are you going to show us what you picked?” Mitsuhide called from outside.

“Ya, give us a fashion show, girlie!”

Mai frowned at the curtain. “I haven’t picked anything yet! I’m just trying some on.”

“Then let us help you pick.” Mitsuhide laughed. “Come on. Don’t be shy.”

“I’m not shy,” she shot back, pulling the curtain open. She was, but she didn’t want Mitsuhide to be right. He acted like he knew everything about her and he didn’t. So if he thought she was shy, well . . . Mai stepped out, defiant in her swimwear.

The expression on Mitsuhide’s face was worth the discomfort she felt putting herself on display. His lips parted to let out a startled breath. His eyes were as wide as teacups. He made a little strangled sound from back in his throat, as if he wanted to say something but the words got all tangled up there. 

Motonari whistled. “You got good instincts. That one’ll knock any man out. Makes a guy wonder if yer single?”

“If you’re asking, then yes. I -” Hideyoshi flashed into her mind for a moment. “Nothing serious.” Mai cleared her throat, feeling a touch guilty. She knew he wanted to be more than friends, but she wasn’t ready to take that step. 

“If ya want to change that, I’m on the market.” Motonari shifted his stance slightly, and something about the way he stood emphasized his slim hip, the curve of his strong thighs. He had a certain, rough appeal to him. 

“She has better taste than that.” Mitsuhide finally found his voice, though he sounded a bit breathless. 

Mai grinned. Something about that flicker of jealousy made her feel happy. “So? Is this a good one?”

“I think something a little more . . . covering.” Mitsuhide gestured to a pink, frilly one piece that would cover her from the base of the neck to mid-thigh. 

“Mmm, I don’t know,” Mai tugged at the criss-crossed ribbons on her abdomen. “You really don’t like this one?”

Mitsuhide took a breath, and that was when Mai noticed a tinge of red in his cheeks. “It’s . . . it’s very . . .”

She realized this was her chance to get him back for his earlier teasing. “Very?” Mai turned in a slow circle, trying to move like the models did at fashion shows. Graceful and sinuous, almost like a snake. 

The red in his cheeks deepened. Instead of replying with words, he took her arm and hurried her back into the changing room. “Try something else,” he managed, his voice hoarse.

Motonari was laughing. “I’ll leave you two to figure it out.”

“I like this one.” Mai’s chin stuck out stubbornly. Just the fact that Mitsuhide did not want her to wear it made her want to. 

“Little mouse -” He took a breath. “I cannot . . . I do not want . . .” Mitsuhide’s gaze was heavy with internal conflict, as if he were wrestling with his own thoughts on the matter. “I have no right to tell you what to wear,” he said after a pause. “But please. Please believe me when I say I do not want other men to look at you in - in this -” His gaze drifted down, moving slowly over her mostly exposed body. 

The slow, hungry look made Mai feel even more naked than she was. 

His hand stroked down her shoulder, sending a prickle of heat across her bare skin. Mitsuhide’s eyes finally pulled away from her body to fix on her face again. 

They were so close, she realized. The dressing room wasn’t all that large, and Mitsuhide wasn’t all that small. If she went up on her toes, she could kiss him, she thought. And more surprising to her, she wanted to. She felt her body leaning into him, obeying her desire without thinking it through.

Mitsuhide stepped closer, his body pressing closer to her. He was warm and firm and solid. His hands rested on her arms. A lock of his hair fell forward, brushing against her forehead. She could almost feel his lips, they were so close to hers. Then, as if lifting a great weight, he pulled back from her, his hands dropping to his sides. “It is too soon,” he said quietly, more to himself than to her. 

Aloud, he added, “Please. Try on something else. That’s all I ask.” He stepped out of the changing room and closed the curtain firmly behind him. 

Mai froze in place, unsure how to react. The changing room felt empty with the loss of his presence, but there was a budding warmth in her chest from his raw, honest reaction. She decided she would try on a less revealing swimsuit, but there was no way she was leaving this one behind. Not when it elicited that look in his eyes. 

In the end, she selected a sky blue one-piece with side cut outs and a low back to wear for the day, with a matching silver and blue cover-up and sandals. And Motonari threw in a parasol with tiny little bellflowers on a white background. She also took the sundress, pale green with little embroidered sunflowers on the bodice, which she wore out because her work clothes didn’t feel right for the beach.

Mitsuhide didn’t ask her to model anything else, but he seemed to be back to his regular self as they left the shop. 

Motonari gave them a warm goodbye and told Mai she should stop in again. She decided she absolutely would. Her friends would love this place and Motonari. 

[artwithoutblood]

i did publish a thing for patreon [that i dont use anymore] that was supposed to be a sex game about dorian and erebus at a christmas party but they just went to erebus's office and chatted because i cant write sex

I thought it’d be more like Dorian reeling around obnoxiously hitting on the few colleagues he doesn’t dislike and trying to dance on things not meant for the purpose. Trying to swing around the poles of the floor lamps.

His hat is gone. Erebus is chasing him and growing increasingly agitated because Dorian has stolen Erebus’ collar chain and is wearing it around his head

He basically would. Maybe not the pole part but the rest I could see.

I'm using this below to paste the thing I wrote. It wasn't finished.

a few familiar faces. a few faces that blend in with one another. erebus is one of them, and he certainly doesn't want to be there. but it's rude to live with two demons who are organizing a party and not join in on the festivities.

aeron doesn't like to host parties. at their own events, they sit in a corner, legs crossed with a cold glass of water in one hand. their eyes gaze emptily into the crowds, consciousness scanning faces and bodies that are a million miles away.

genesis always has to beg them. dissonance loves the lights, the music, the celebration. he's grown to love christmas because of his time with his children over the years. "people in the human world get together and have holiday parties! they drink n' dance n' wear stupid outfits! they even do it at work! ain't that crazy, aeron? we've gotta host one. please? we can do it in the gallery!"

delusion agrees, as long as it's far away from any of the breakable art. they settle on a banquet hall, used often for receptions or special exhibits. aeron decorates with colorful lights and decorative pine needles. genesis caters food and puts together the perfect playlist of classical piano and ambient drones.

erebus never liked fancy suits. sure, his usual attire was regal, elegant, fit for an archivist who spent centuries combing through books. but the suit that scarlet had crafted for him was far beyond his usual dress.

"i had made this for your predicessor," she had explained to him when he begrudgedly came to pick it up, "but since he's…gone, i thought i'd modify this for you. to fit you better, y'know."

delirium always hated being compared to dreams. he just had to swallow it.

the suit was beautiful, emblazened with appliques of snakes, ancient words, and images of the sun. the brooches on each collar were handcrafted from celestial silver, meant for the demon of dreams and repurposed for erebus's small stature. beautiful shades of green and black and gray, matched against silver jewelry.

familiar faces pass by erebus as he stood near a row of paintings, away from the drink tables and towards a corner's emptiness. diana handed erebus a glass of water and told him to call her over if he needed anything. graves staring with empty eyes, empty words, and a small platter of cake in his hand. aeron runs their fingers through his hair and thanks him for coming. xinyue talks him down from his anxiety by filling his head with thoughts of the next few days and what work erebus can do once the party is over. that puts his mind at ease.

he treats himself to small, strawberry tarts, seated in his own corner. most attendees ignore him. and that's just how he likes it, sitting as quiet as one of the corpse statues that line some of the halls outside of this cheerful place.

erebus has always been used to eyes on him. he assumes aeron is always spying, even if delusion isn't doing it actively.

but tonight is different. erebus looks up, finds aeron in the crowd, and breathes a sigh of confusion when he realizes the painter has their full attention on a man that erebus has never seen before.

who's looking at him then? he scans the area over and over, puts down his dish and stands up to do so. sweat drips delicately down his forehead. erebus never thought he'd miss the prying eyes of delusion, replaced by something foreign to him.

all erebus had to do was look right in front of him. across the long hall is another man, adorned in similar glasses and a muzzle over his face, leaning against a bookshelf and swirling a fruity drink in his hand. he presses the straw through the bars of his muzzle and to his lips, stealing another glance at erebus.

he has met dorian a few times in the past. librarians of different fields come to know each other, share their knowledge. dorian just barely leaves his domain, deep in the circles. he occasionally visits the gallery to admire aeron's newest handiwork. the two of them exchange art for knowledge, sometimes vice versa. dorian has joined them for dinner before, but all that heresy does is sit patiently, drinking tea and listening patiently to whatever comes from delusion's mouth.

they lock eyes for a few moments before dorian breaks it, closing them to indulge himself deeper in his tea. what does heresy want? erebus isn't sure.

but he sighs. he knows he has to do the hard work of reaching out.

erebus stands in front of dorian, arms crossed, foot tapping gently against the floor. dorian doesn't notice him - on purpose, of course - waiting for delirium to speak for himself. erebus sighs, defeated.

"are you going to explain yourself?" he asks, his brows furrowed.

dorian pushes the bridge of his glasses further up his nose. "hm, explain what?"

"you've been staring at me from across the room for at least five minutes now. is there something on my face?"

"besides your pretty eyes, no."

erebus hasn't been able to blush in centuries, but he knew his ears would be burning red at that if he could.

dorian just laughs. "i'm teasing you, erebus. i've just been debating on whether or not i move to talk to you, but i was too absorbed in this drink…"

"that you were too lazy to move and walk over to me?"

"that's right."

but why talk to me?" erebus doesn't seem to understand why anyone would care for his presence at this party other than his own coworkers.

"a few reasons," dorian places his drink on a nearby table. "first, you're the only person here who looks just about as lonely as i."

"you don't have people to talk to, dorian? you're important. you're one of the most important people here, i'd say."

"you know i'd say the same about you, head archivist."

"erebus. just call me by my name." he clasps his hands together, gently squeezing his palms together.

"erebus." his name is heavy on dorian's lips, slow, said with a soft taste of pine in his voice.

"…you aren't pitying me right now, are you?" it's what erebus hates most.

"no…" dorian shakes his head. he eyes the exit next to him, where the lights grow dim and the music would dissolve into silence. "i can talk to anyone here whenever i'd like. but you are a rarity. even at archives receptions, you are holed up in your office or pretending to be busy so no one approaches you."

"you of all people should know how important our work is," erebus is frustrated, eyes darting away from dorian, hoping that someone will grab him by the arm and whisk him away from this obligation.

"i do. of course i do," dorian nods, "but…"

"but what?"

"is it wrong that i've wanted to get to know you? know you past the formalities of work?"

"heresy is a liar, you know. why should i believe you?"

"i'd like you to use my name too."

erebus swallows. his eyes land on aeron, who is in the middle of putting on a haphazard theatric performance of some horrible story that happened to them recently. aeron notices immediately and locks eyes, smiling, waving their left hand.

god, sometimes his roommate is so innocent.

"why, erebus, are you acting like i want to hurt you?" dorian is serious. he may have been teasing earlier, but his eyes are dark, lips now neutral as opposed to curled upright in his default smile. "is it because everyone else you've ever met has wanted to hurt you? or, at least, that's what you think is happening?"

erebus swallows hard. he looks through dorian, rather than at him.

"because…i'm not here to do that," dorian shakes his head. "especially not here, surrounded by people. in fact, i rather admire you and your commitment to your work. but even so…"

erebus can't bother to look at him right now.

"i can tell you want to talk about other kinds of things. you love your books, but you love other things. but you don't feel like you're worth it past what you're good at. i'm right, aren't i?"

delirium falls silent, his head to the floor, inhaling deep breaths despite no longer needing to use his fragile lungs. dorian does not break the silence between them. he waits for erebus to speak.

and erebus does. "but why does that matter to you? why do you care?"

"do i need to have a reason?"

erebus rubs the dark circles under his eyes.

dorian makes his intentions clear. "i'm asking if the two of us can exit this loud, crowded room. i want to sit down with you, alone, and i want to hear erebus talk. not the archivist, not delirium, but erebus."

erebus looks back up, locks eyes with dorian. "you want me alone?"

"so i can focus on all of you, yes."

delirium will admit he would much prefer to be pulled away from the loud noise and the heat of other bodies. erebus can already feel the weight lifting off his chest, only to be replaced with nearly equal weight, all from one person: dorian.

erebus gives in. "fine."

dorian smiles.

erebus leads dorian down the hall, and the music that encapsulated them starts to fade. he knocks every so often against the wood finishings of corners, of the frames of old paintings. dorian cocks his head in confusion.

"i have a door somewhere between here and my office," erebus explains. doors are like small portals. genesis hides dozens of them in their shared space, all so he can steal trinkets and food from the other two members. he steals erebus's teabags and areon's sewing supplies, but he gives nothing back in return.

eventually, an old painting of a boat, ravaged by a stubborn sea, glows blue with absolute light. a small door opens, and erebus bows, inviting dorian inside.

"can i get you something new to drink?" erebus asks, "i know you just had…what were you drinking?"

"a shirley temple," dorian responds. erebus's office is small, ornately decorated yet humble all in the same visage. it was much like erebus was, strung with books on every wall, with globes and keys and small vials of ink leaving the place in its own orderly disarray. erebus pulls the chair from behind the desk to the front, allowing dorian and erebus to sit on equal footing. "i'm alright. thank you."

erebus nods, makes himself a cup of green tea with jasmine, and sits down.

it takes a few minutes, a few spits of reassurance from dorian for erebus to talk. sometimes, his eyes never leave the swirling liquid inside his teacup. eventually, erebus unravels. he talks about his greenhouse and all the plants he's been growing inside. he talks about his collection of antiques from before his own demonhood, all related to the stars above. he talks about some novels he's read, not novels he's written.

erebus has never been very good at reading emotions.he checks dorian's eyes, his mouth (or what he can of it due to the muzzle), but dorian does not break eye contact once. he sits with full attention on erebus, only moving to settle deeper into his chair. there seem to be stars in his eyes, admiration circling those irises of his. erebus swallows, adjusts his glasses, continues.

does dorian like it? is this just a ploy to collect information on him? erebus didn't really care; his mouth were running faster than his brain was.

but the intense staring, mind swimming…it makes erebus anxious, after an hour or so of infodumping all over this man who was barely more than a stranger.

"am i…bothering you? you look disappointed in me."

dorian refuses to break eye contact (erebus's worst nightmare) as he reaches two of his fingers up to his face. they slide between the bars of his muzzle and swipe gently over his own black lips. "i'm not disappointed in you, erebus. not at all. i'm disappointed in myself."

"why is that?"

heresy stands, his intricately-embroidered coat unfurling with him, revealing shimmering spider lilies and camellias. he gently pushes his glasses further up his nose. erebus is cautious and takes a stand as well, moving his body away from the chair.

"dorian? is everything alright?" erebus asks, but he fears his question will fall on deaf ears.

erebus has always been shorter than dorian, but as dorian approaches him, those silver-plated high heels on his feet, erebus realizes the size difference much clearer. it doesn't take long for erebus to find his back to a wall, with dorian placing one arm next to erebus's head, preventing any escape.

"i'm just disappointed that…" dorian breathes a heavy sigh. any twinge of shame lies behind that muzzle and refuses to leak out. "…i can't kiss you right now."

erebus's eyes go wide. "i'm sorry…?"

in most situations, erebus would have fished a pair of scissors from his pocket and driven them straight into dorian's chest. two problems arose:

one: he doesn't have his scissors, because this wasn't his usual outfit. he must have left them in the pocket of his uniform.

two: he doesn't really…want to, no matter how much his voice swims in confusion.

they sit in silience, whose pressure never bursts or dwindles, and dorian stares with those stars still in his eyes.

erebus is the first to break the silence. "why?"

dorian does not answer at first. that makes erebus anxious.

"…please let me go."

dorian responds immediately. "i'm trying to find a way to explain this that would help you understand. if i tell you that i have no reason, you'll panic. if i tell you it's because you're beautiful, alluring even in your mystery, you'll deny it. if i sit in silence, contemplating an answer, your hands will shake, as they do now."

he locks his fingers with one of erebus's hands. delirium's limbs make small tremors. dorian remedies this by pressing his forehead against delirium's. erebus's eyes light up, confusion being sprinkled with…wonder? relief? he wasn't sure. all erebus knows is that someone is using his name, is holding him and singing him sweet praises that he's never heard in his life (this isn't true, erebus just was not receptive, but that barely matters when heresy pins you against a wall in your own office).

dorian's hand slides back to erebus's face, gently cupping his cheek, thumb running along his jawline. "if you're so anxious, i can stop, we can return to our conversation, and we can pretend this never happened."

erebus does not respond for a long, long while. his mind was swimming, trying to drown his own complex. dorian was, without a doubt, beautiful; something about his mismatched eyes, his black lips, his off-white skin, it was all beautiful. dorian makes himself irresistable just by his existence, and erebus was still trying to wrap his head around why dorian was interested in someone as boring, mean, and hard to obtain as erebus.

maybe the last part was it. it didn't matter now. the bird has caught the snake, right on his own grounds.

erebus raises a hand up to one of the long pieces of dorian's hair. the rest had been tied into a delicate bun and secured with silver hair accessories, save for two sections that trailed down to his chest. his eyes focused on the variations in colors of dorian's hair. peach, off-white cream, gray, strawberry blonde.

"is…everything alright, erebus?"

"pretty."

"what?"

"your hair is pretty."

dorian laughs. "you really think so?"

"yes."

"it used to be curly," dorian explains, "but i suppose the first death and the ash somehow flattened it. thankfully, it's still soft.

"i like it like this," and erebus brings the hair to his nose, inhaling the scent. dorian smells like patchouli and rose with a hint of vanilla.

heresy's ears light up with red, making the silver jewelry glow even brighter.

"for someone so touch-averse, i'm surprised you had the nerve to…sniff my hair?"

"i like nice-smelling things. it puts me at ease." erebus opens his eyes and looks back up at dorian, and the anxiety flushes back in.

"you're a little weird, don't you know that?"

"i…i'm sorry." erebus looks embarrassed.

"no, that's a good thing. i like that."

[sillygonk]

Strings of Devotion [ao3]

pairing: Johnny Silverhand/V

word count: 4,4k

<- Chapter I Chapter III ->

Chapter II – How I met my Mortal Enemy

V stirred from her slumber, groggily blinking away the remnants of sleep when morning light filtered through the blinds. Stretching her limbs, she grimaced at her back pain and let out a loud yawn, feeling the weight of yesterday’s exhaustion still clinging to her bones. There was definitely too much emotions in too little time.

The apartment was quiet, which meant that Misty had to be out for the day already – if she sniffed hard enough, she could feel the smell of incense sticks that her roommate was lighting up every day. The only thing she could hear were the distant sounds of the street coming through the windows of their shared Heywood apartment. Other than that, the morning was calm and quiet.

And that’s when Nibbles greeted her with soft, gentle “meeEEeeEooOOOOOW!”

“Jesus Christ, I’m up, I’m UP Nibbles,” V groaned, but reached out to stroke the little bald head. “Give me five minutes.” Cat responded with a contented purr, before darting off to investigate a sunbeam streaming in through the window. With the cat out of her hair, she flopped back onto the bed, burying her face back in her pillow. She immediately started to drift back into a blissful state of half-consciousness.

And that’s when her phone rang.

“Oh, fuck me…” she groaned again before picking up. “Hello?”

“Yo, V. If you ain’t busy I got a gig for you.”

“It’s really fucking early, Cap.”

“It’s well after nine,” Muamar laughed. “But the gig is good and I promise you’ll like it.”

She opened one eye. If El Capitan says she’ll like the gig, that could only mean one thing.

“Is it klep work?”

“It’s work on creative license. But yes.”

“Aight,” she finally sat on the bed, blanket still wrapped around her. “You have my attention.”

“A beautiful Colby Butte. Already have a client for it. He’s a bit... Demanding. And snippy to be honest. But what is that to you, two minutes of work and we’re set. Just try not to scratch it while racing, which I know you’ll do.”

V sighed and rubbed sleep from eyes.

“Sure, Cap. Send me the coords and I’m on it.”

“Fabulous. Info on your way. Mwah.”

After that he hung up, and V got out of the bed. She shuffled to the kitchen. Nibbles, suddenly not interested in sunbathing anymore, hot on her heels, purring loudly. Even though she knew that Misty fed the little shit already, she pretended to forget about that once in a while to make her cat happy. V and Nibbles shared similar values when it came to food after all – it was never too much and it was never too often, so who she was to deny this furless little creature a treat.

When Nibbles was focused on the breakfast, she pulled the cupboard door open, and then frowned at the sight of the empty coffee canister. “Damn,” she muttered under her breath, realizing she had forgotten to restock. Again. But who was she kidding, even if she remembered, she would most probably still wouldn’t buy it since the prices were shooting up like crazy. Sighing in resignation, V reached for the next best thing – instant coffee. It wasn't ideal, but it would have to do for now.

As she boiled water on the stove, V pulled out her phone, shooting off a quick text to Jackie.

[V] have a gig from Capitan wanna meet after? sent – 9:43 am

It didn’t even took him ten seconds to respond.

[Jackie] sure thing chica, come to the studio received – 9:43 am

[V] preem, will be there in 2 hrs tops sent – 9:44 am

She quicky prepared her coffee and left it on the counter to cool down. Since she was starting a day with a gig, she opted for a quick shower to soothe her muscles a bit. After fishing out some fresh clothes out of her wardrobe, she tossed them onto her bed and made her way to the bathroom. She turned on the water and waited for it to warm up. Leaning against the sink, she ran a hand through her short, tangled hair, grimacing at the sight of split ends and unruly knots. She really should stop bleaching them so much. With silently vowing to ask Mamá Welles to trim her hair, she shed her pj’s and stepped into the shower, sighing when hot water cascaded over her back.

The tranquility however was short-lived as a sharp pang shot through her lower back again, and she couldn't help but wince. She gritted her teeth against the pain, silently cursing her body for betraying her yet once more. Grimacing, she reached for the nearby shelf where she kept a bottle of painkillers, quickly popping on in her mouth and washing it down with a handful of water. V sighed again, forcing herself to push through and hurriedly scrubbing herself clean despite the pain.

By the time V turned off the water and stepped out of the shower, she felt the tension slowly ebb away. She quickly dried herself off and, with her hair still damp and clinging slightly to her forehead, she padded back into her bedroom to get dressed. After pulling on a pair of old ripped jeans, loose tee and heavy boots, V did her make-up and packed – she tossed her notebook and a couple of pens in her bag, and, just in case, the painkillers and a bottle of water. She put a gun into the waistband of her jeans, slipped her leather jacket on and leaned down to give the cat a quick kiss on the head. “Be good, Nibbles.” With one last glance around her apartment, she headed to the door.

And that’s when she saw her forgotten cup of coffee on the kitchen counter, already cold.

“Crap,” she sighed, but still gulped it down on her way out.

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

Her klep gig work on creative license went smooth as always. And, as always, she lost the tail within seconds, hacking pursuers cars for good measure. This little Thronton could really do the trick on the road, despite not being a race car per se. But, in her mind, every car was a race car if you were a good enough driver, and she was a good fucking driver. And that was a cool fucking car.

She fixed a quick text to the fixer after exiting the garage.

[V] wheels in the cave sent – 11:03 am

[El Capitan] profesh as ever eddies sent your way received – 11:03 am

V smiled at the notification. Without giving it a second thought, she decided to hit up Muamar once more.

[V] if the client will change his mind, add this baby to my bill sent – 11:05 am

[El Capitan] got bored of the bike, eh? received – 11:06 am

[V] nah, but those wheels are preem sent – 11:06 am

[El Capitan] as everything i offer received – 11:06 am

will let you know if the client will have a change of heart if not, will keep you in mind next time maybe will add a discount for preem work received – 11:08 am

[V] sounds good, Cap sent – 11:09 am

Her smile turned into a grin. She really liked to work for Cap. Klep jobs from him were the ones she enjoyed the most. Sure, it was not the same as being paid for their little music gigs, but it put food on the table and kept the bills paid. For now, they all had to endure with their monotony day jobs. Nova was a bouncer at Lizzie’s, kicking gonks asses if they were not following the club rules. Raf in the kitchen at some slurp shop in Kabuki, constantly burning his hands in the shitty, dirty kitchen. Misty in her little esoterica shop, still fighting for peoples spirituality. Prime… Doing God knows what, God knows why. And V, with her merc gigs and occasional shifts as a waitress at the same place Raf worked at.

Their situation was less-than-ideal, but they were hopeful and knew they will crawl out of this fucking shithole one day. They will get there. They will make it big.

They had to or they would lose their fucking minds.

Meandering through the streets as if on autopilot, V’s train of thought was abruptly shattered when she collided with a tall figure coming from around the corner. Startled, she stumbled backward, barely managing to regain her balance.

“Shit, sorry,” V said, feeling a flush of embarrassment heat her cheeks. “You good?”

She looked up at him. A guy, probably around her age, with short stubble and dark mid-length hair framing his sharp features. With his hands casually tucked into the pockets of a worn leather jacket, his outfit was a striking resemblance to her own. And, she couldn’t deny, he was kinda handsome. Or at least would be if he would stop sneering at her, that is. But there was something about him that set off alarm bells in her mind.

When he met her gaze, his sneer turned into a brief shock, and then into a smirk.

“No harm done,” he said in gruff voice, his smirk widening as he took in her appearance. “But maybe next time watch where you’re goin’, princess.”

Oh, so he was also a dickhead.

“Said I was sorry, didn’t I?”

“You sure did, doll, but that doesn't change the fact that you nearly knocked me over, does it?”

She sized him up with a scoff, her eyes narrowing slightly. He was at least half-foot taller than her, lean but not lanky, with broad shoulders that stretched the fabric of his jacket. Yeah, she almost knocked him over.

“Sure I did,” V rolled her eyes, brushing past him and continuing down the street, muttering under her breath. “Asshole.”

She heard him chuckle behind her back, but if he said anything in return, she didn’t catch that. She adjusted the strap of her bag and quickened her pace, this time actually watching where she was going. As she walked, she couldn't shake the feeling that he was still watching her for some reason. She resisted the urge to turn around, her irritation growing with each step. She fished a cig from the inside pocket of her jacket and lit it, taking a deep drag to calm the fuck down.

When V finally arrived at the studio, slightly calmer, the familiar sight brought a sense of relief. Pushing open the heavy door, she stepped inside, greeted by the techie guy, Ben, letting her know that Jackie was waiting for her in the back. She thanked him with a smile and went in the direction he pointed.

Jackie’s tall frame was hunched over the mixing console as he tinkered with the dials. He looked up as she entered the backroom, a warm smile lighting up his face.

“Hola, chica. Lookin’ good.”

“And feelin’ shitty, but thanks.”

“Ay. Need a hug?”

V couldn't help but chuckle at his offer, touched by his thoughtfulness.

“Fuck yeah, I need a hug.”

Without hesitation, Jackie crossed the room and enveloped her in a warm embrace, his arms wrapping around her. V closed her eyes for a moment and sighed. “Thanks Jacks.”

“Anytime,” he ruffled her hair. When she stepped back, he frowned a little. “Issues with the gig?”

“Nah, gig went good. Actually it’s the only thing that went good today,” she nervously rubbed the back of her neck, brushing the edge of the spine cyberware with her fingertips. “It’s just, dunno, bad day, I guess. I'm sleep deprived, my back is killing me again and some asshole practically plowed into me on the street and made it look like it was my fault. And I’m hungry.”

Jackie raised an eyebrow. “Shit. That’s a one rough morning, huh?” He thought for a moment and gave her a small smile. “Y’know what? I have something to show you actually. Wanted to do it after talking the detes with Wakako, but fuck it,” he sat at the desk, clicking on the console again. “Was working on a new demo. Only have a short bit for now, but I think you're gonna dig it.”

“Aight, lay it on me,” she ginned, settling onto the edge of the desk next to him and nodding at him to play the track. She enjoyed listening to every bit of his work, no matter what stage it was at. To be fair, he did the same for her.

They listened in silence for a while, but V’s smile grew wider every second. She didn’t knew shit about making music like this, but could appreciate a good beat when she heard one. After it finished, she laughed. “Shit, this beat slaps harder than my mother.”

Jackie looked at her sternly.

“V. Ain't funny.”

“Yea it is, you just have no sense of humor.”

“Yea, and you’re deflecting trauma with dark humor.”

“Okay, ouch. Touché tho. But really, it’s pretty fucking good.”

“Glad you like it,” his eyes lit up with excitement. “Because I will need a short chorus for it and I want you to sing the part. We would record it for my first album.”

She froze.

“Wai- What?” her eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Are you serious?”

“Sure am, V. Was thinking of a collab like that for some time and I want you for the first one I do this with.”

V felt a lump form in her throat as Jackie's words sank in. Maybe this day wasn’t so bad after all. She sniffed, blinking back tears, before nodding slowly.

“That’s a yes?” he grinned.

“Well, how the fuck can I say no?” he laughed while she wiped her eyes and leaned in to hug him again, which he returned right away.

“Good,” he pat her back lightly. “Now c’mon, let’s get some fucking food. I’m starving too.”

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

When hours later V made her way to their hideout – a rented garage near Coyote – sun was already dipping low on the horizon. They had a quick jam session planned and V wanted to finally blow off some steam. Even though the meetup with Jackie made her day ten times better, she still felt antsy for some reason.

She walked to the back entrance and smiled at Prime, who was sitting on the curb next to the back door, smoking a joint.

“Fancy seeing you here,” V stood next to her, snuffing her cig and taking a puff from Prime’s doobie when she offered.

“You too,” the drummer nodded. From those two words alone, V could tell that she was less baked than usual. “Nova will be late, they had some situation at the bar.”

“Drunk gonks or something else?”

“Dunno, wasn’t really listening when Raf was talking,” she cleared her throat and added quietly. “But Dex is here.”

“What?” V frowned and crouched down in front of her. “Why?”

“Said he had some info about the Battle or something,” she took the joint back and took a drag. “But he didn’t say much else.”

V sighed and nodded. It wasn’t that they didn’t like to work with Dex. Well, they didn’t, but that was not the point. It was just that he always had only his own biz in mind, not caring much about them and their goals. He didn’t support them or promoted them as he should. They were only a source for a quick eddie, no matter how small the eddie was. So yeah, they did resent him a bit, but right now he was the only one they could afford and they needed a manager if they wanted to move forward at all.

“Aight,” V sighed again and stood up. “I’m goin’ in. My ass is freezing,” she opened the door and looked at her friend. “You comin’?”

“Yeah. Let’s get this over with,” Prime flicked the remainder of her joint into the alley and followed V inside. V greeted Dex with short nod and smiled at Misty and Raf, sitting on the couch next to them, dropping her bag along with the jacket and her gun.

“Does it feel for you like we’re being called into the principal's office when he shows up?” Raf asked her quietly.

“Every single fucking time,” she whispered and he chuckled.

They sat, mostly in silence, tension filling the air. He of course couldn’t just sent them the info, because why make their life easier, right? He was insufferable sometimes. Wasn’t helping them with their career but was micromanaging them at the same time, just to be sure that they knew their place and stayed in line.

Finally, after what seems like hours with Dex in their space, Nova arrived, with a pout on her face, looking as if someone pissed in her cereal.

“Hi. Sorry, shitty shift,” she said, shrugging off her jacket and throwing it on the hanger in the corner. “You’d think that if we’re fucking closed then gonks will stop try to come in, Jesus fuckin’-” she finally looked up and stopped in her tracks. “Oh. Hi Dex.”

“Hello, Miss Foster,” he lit up his cigar and V gritted her teeth. They were not supposed to smoke inside and he knew it. They will get another fucking earful from the proprietor. “Come on and sit down. I have some news about this Battle of the Bands thing for y’all,” he pulled out his phone and quickly found something he was looking for, while Nova sat on the armrest next to V, exchanging knowing glances. “Got the info from the organizer. You're officially signed up for the event as performers,” Dex stated. “There will be five bands in total, the opening is scheduled for next Saturday. They want each band to do a short presentation as an appetizer before the real competition will start.”

“Do we know the dates of each performances?” V asked.

“Not yet, they’re still working on the program. All info about the phases of the competition should be available this week. Will send them to you. Any other burnin’ questions?”

“Yeah. You had to come down here to let us know about that?” Nova raised her eyebrow.

“You know me, Miss Foster. I like to look y’all in the eyes when talkin’ biz.”

“Riiight. Thanks Dex.”

“Of course. So if that’s all-“

“Actually, wait,” V quipped in. “One more. Is there a list of who else made it in?”

He scrolled down on the info.

“Yes, there is, Miss V. Sending you the detes,” they all got a notification as Dex turned to leave. “If they will inform me of anything else, I’ll let y’all know.”

With that he took his leave and all of them sighed in union.

“We really should stop giving his detes in any papers, fuck me,” Nova said.

“That’s, like, literally his job, Nova,” Raf rolled his eyes.

“Well, I don’t like him,” she leaned to pull out a beer from the crate laying on the floor next to the couch and opened it, but when Raf reached out to her, she sighed and handed him a bottle, reaching for another one. “And I know you gonks don’t like him too. We would be better off alone, to be honest. V handles more things than him, and better,” she pointed her finger at V. “We pay him for nothing and you know it.”

“Yeah, I know,” V sighed and pulled out her phone to open the message from Dex. “But you know that we need someone. Let’s just… We’ll talk about it after the competition will be over, aight?”

Nova was quiet for a while, mulling her words. She wasn’t exactly in a mood to push V and she saw that V would also lose her shit for that today. “Yeah. Yeah, you’re right. Let’s just focus on the Battle for now.”

“Thank you,” V let out a sigh of relief and stood up, wandering in circles while scrolling the detes. “Okay, there it is. List of bands qualified for the Battle; Thunderforge. I have no idea who they are,” she glanced at her teammates, but they also shook their heads. She returned to the list. “The Shouty Hearts. I actually heard of them couple of times.”

“Yeah, they’re pretty good,” Nova nodded. “We were at their gig at Dicky Twister some time ago, remember?”

“Oh, that’s right,” she slapped her forehead.

“You went to a gay bar without me?” Raf scoffed.

“We went for a gig without you,” Nova smirked and sipped her beer. “Not the first time too. Okay, who else do we have?”

“Fivedust. Again, not sure if I know them.”

“They’re okay,” Prime stated. “Less hard, more like a funky vibe, but they’re pretty good.”

“Aight. So that leaves us and…” V scrolled further down and froze. “Samurai? Fuckin’ Samurai?” She read in disbelief.

She heard about Samurai, alright. They all did. Samurai was slowly carving out a reputation for themselves, much like them. They were a rising force in the music scene and she knew about their growing fanbase. Apparently they were able to captivate a crowd without much effort. They were a threat that couldn't be taken lightly. The realization hit V like a punch to the gut. This shit just got a whole lot more serious. If they were going to compete against Samurai, they needed to bring their A-game and be prepared for every-fucking-thing.

They couldn’t catch a fucking break, could they?

“Well that’s just fucking fantastic,” she reached out for a bottle with trembling hands.

“Samurai, whoop-de-do,” Nova rolled her eyes. “What about them, choom?”

“The fuck you mean what about them?” Raf interjected and narrowed his eyes. “They’re huge!”

“I’m kinda with Raf on that one to be honest,” V sighed and sipped her beer.

“Yea, me too,” Prime shrugged and Misty nodded.

“Fucking, thank you!” Raf yelled.

“Uh, no? They’re not huge,” Nova scoffed and looked at them with disbelief. “What the fuck you’re all talking about? They’re in the same spot as us. If it were otherwise, they wouldn’t take part in this competition.”

Well… V couldn’t argue with that. She started to nervously chew on her already destroyed nail polish, until Nova slapped her hand. She sighed. Maybe they really were exaggerating. Maybe Samurai wasn’t that good. At least not much better than them, she hoped. Maybe Nova was right. They were in the same boat, after all. But then Misty said something that sent her down the spiral again.

“Didn’t they start a fire at Rainbow Cadenza some time ago?”

Oh, and also they did that and were the talk of the week. It was a dumb marketing, but if something was stupid but worked, then it wasn’t stupid. And this stunt fucking worked. V cursed under her breath, feeling more and more pissed.

“Okay, enough,” she pointed her finger at them. “We all need to chill, aight? We're not some fucking small-time act. We've earned our place there, and I know you know it too,” she huffed, downing her beer before continuing. “I’ll admit, seeing their name on the list was like a fucking slap, but that’s our wake-up call, you know? That’s the proof that this is not a fucking playground anymore.”

They all nodded slowly, Nova with satisfied smirk on her face.

“Finally,” she raised the bottle with a mocking toast and V rolled her eyes.

“Yeah, yeah, shut up.”

Nova only laughed her loud pearly laughter and downed her beer too. Raf, Misty and Prime exchanged glanced, and, at last, Raf sighed.

“Yeah, you’re right. We ain’t gonna back down because of couple of self-centered wannabes.”

“They’re mostly not half bad from what I heard,” Nova shrugged. “It’s only Silverhand who struts like a peacock.”

“The vocalist, right?” V sipped her beer.

“Yep. That means you need to crush his ego,” Nova smirked, poking V's arm and she finally laughed. Hurray for another day of emotional rollercoaster, she guessed.

“Yeah, no prob, choom.”

“Are there any pics of them online? I want to at least see if he’s as cute as they say,” Raf exhaled dramatically.

All girls rolled their eyes at him, but Nova pulled out her phone to look for any sign of them. It didn’t take her long to find their fanpage. She muttered something about setting up one for Banzai Riot too and handed Raf her phone. He tilted his head while zooming in on the pic and shrugged.

“Meh. I’ve seen better. The one with mullet is cute tho,” he smiled and handed the phone to Misty when she reached out to check them out too. It went on a tour round the room so all of them could see their future competitors, and when it finally got into V's hands, she choked on her beer.

“That asshole!”

Her bandmates exchanged surprised glances.

“What asshole?” Misty frowned.

“The one that- Shit,” she rubbed her forehead, realizing that they haven’t heard her story from before yet. “I bumped into some guy on the street today and he was all pissy about it at first and then smirking and shit. And he acted as if I was the only one not looking where I’m fucking going. That’s him! That’s the asshole!”

“Which one?” Nova frowned and V pointed her finger at the tall, broody one. “That’s Silverhand.”

“That’s him?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Great. Fucking amazing,” she sneered and reached out for a cig. Fuck it, Dex already smoked inside, she won’t make it worse.

“Did he know who you are?”

V blinked in surprise, taken aback by Misty’s question.

“Nah… No, I don’t think so,” she frowned.

“You don’t look convinced, you know?”

“Well… When I think about it now, he was acting weird.”

“Well, maybe he did recognize you?” Nova questioned. “We played some gigs in the city too, maybe he saw one?”

V shrugged. There was some possibility of him stumbling across their concert one time. Or maybe he had found across them online. She knew that some of the audience recorded their stuff and posted it without a second thought, even if they didn’t know who was playing. Or maybe it was just a chance encounter and she was reading too much into it. V didn't know anymore. She was sure of one thing, though.

This competition is going to be one hell of a ride.