#apartments near wake forest university

[thehavenwake]

Benefits Of Luxury Living

Explore the numerous advantages of luxury living in Winston-Salem NC apartments near Wake Forest University, where comfort and convenience seamlessly intertwine!

[bubbleteycosplay]

What ifs Sigyn's stories

Part 27

So many different universes, so many different possibilities. And in some loves Sigyn and their different stories. Pictures and brief information have been written about some of these possibilities.

But what is her full story, we don't know. But we can spin them further in our thoughts ^^

The whole project here serves to show the possibilities and potential that Sigyn would have had within the Marvel Universe. How she could have been reintroduced, her story made new and more exciting. #JusticeForSigyn stands for creating Sigyn content because Marvel doesn't give us any.

Inspired by @fauna-and-mythos @dailylogyn @dank-art @jonquilclegane @sigynoffidelity @sigynthevictorious @thewitchysystem @shenanigans-and-imagines @timeladyjamie @therese-lokidottir @puckwritesstuff @sigynappreciation @sigyn-obsessed @ellecaterina @roruna

You will love me (AU)

Everything is going well for veterinarian Loki Odinson: he is successful in his career and has just gotten engaged to the beautiful Amora. But Loki catches Amora with his older brother Thor at his best friend's wedding. He breaks off the engagement and throws Amora out of his apartment that night. He then breaks off contact with both of them. He moves away and starts a new life.

12 years later: Loki kept his vow, he never saw Amora or Thor again. He has been married to Sigyn for 6 years and they both have two three-year-old sons and the happiness couldn't be better about the impending birth of their daughter. But then Loki's mother Frigga dies and leaves a will that forces Loki to reconnect with his brother. At the same time, he receives anonymous messages claiming that he killed Amora on the night of the wedding. Loki investigates and finds that Amora has actually disappeared since then. And then events come to a head: In a forest near his parents' house, a suitcase containing women's clothing is found, which also contains Amora's identity card. And not far away lies a corpse. And he is arrested as the suspected perpetrator. Sigyn, who believes in her husband's guilt, takes on the investigation herself.

You only love twice

Five years ago, Sigyn had to learn the hard way what happens when you break the rules. She has lost everything. The trust of her husband Theoric. The man she had loved since childhood. And quickly her life. Love is a weakness that she can never afford again!

When offered a chance at redemption, the seductive Vanahnin is determined to complete her task: tracking down a dangerous assassin, a mysterious killer who is after the queen, her own mother, whose identity seems to be constantly changing.

But when Sigyn's investigations lead her into a trap, she is saved by a shadowy figure.

As a man with few memories, Loki only knows that Sigyn is the key to getting to Frayer, and he wants revenge no matter what the price. But a kiss ignites the unbroken passion between them and he can't bring himself to use her.

Can Loki trust her? Or is history doomed to fail? Because it soon becomes clear that Frayer may have discovered that Loki and Sigyn have become closer... and then her own daughter will be in the line of fire.

In the witch's ice garden

Sigyn wakes up in a castle in Jotunheim that is not her home. Nevertheless, a little boy she doesn't know claims to be her sons. And then there's the creepy guy Loki who pretends to be a husband...

Sigyn actually wanted to go on a forest trip with her sisters - but she ends up in Jotunheim, where a scenario from a horror shocker awaits her... A woman she doesn't know who is trying to kill her and her two little boys. To find out the truth, Sigyn must fight for her life in a deadly game. Which is stronger? Her conscience or her survival instinct?

The girl that fell from the sky (AU)

Sigyn has no time for love, especially not in winter. During the day, the former racing runner works as a ski instructor, and in the evenings she helps out at her parents' Pension Schneeglöckchen. When she gets to know the new long-term tenant, her well-rehearsed routine, like her heart, is thrown out of sync. Most women would love to do the attractive doctor's bidding, but Sigyn doesn't even think about it.

And him? The Christmas season is approaching, and Loki has only one wish: that the time of contemplation and cookie baking passes by as quickly as possible. The assignment to work as a doctor in a ski resort is therefore very convenient for him. Luckily, the guesthouse where he stays turns out to be a kitsch-free zone. But even the first meeting with the quick-witted daughter of the house causes the hermit to sweat profusely, despite the frosty temperatures...

Red Queen

This is a universe divided by blood - red or silver.

The Reds are commoners ruled by a Silver Elite who have god-like superpowers. And for Sigyn, a normal red girl from the impoverished Vanaheim, it seems as if nothing will ever change.

Until she comes to Asgard to start working in the palace. Here, surrounded by the highest beings in the universe she hates most, Sigyn discovers that despite her red blood, she has a deadly power of her own. One that threatens to destroy the balance of power.

Fearing Sigyn's potential, Frigga hides her from public view and declares her the long-lost Princess of Vanaheims, now engaged to one of her sons. Although Sigyn knows that a single misstep would mean her death, she quietly works to help the Red Guard, a militant resistance group, and overthrow the Asgard regime.

But this is a world full of betrayal and lies, and Sigyn has begun a dangerous dance - Red against Silver, Prince against Prince, and Sigyn against her own heart...

A sweet secret for dessert

Sigyn is a confident party girl and financially independent thanks to her lucrative divorce. But since she was attacked by unknown perpetrators and seriously injured, her interests have shifted: instead of dancing in the club, the beauty can now be seen doing martial arts, instead of hot dates, sweaty strength training is on the program. Sigyn never wants to be at the mercy of a man again.

When Loki first sees him, he is immediately mesmerized by her strength and beauty. He's never wanted a woman as badly as she does. He needs a lot of patience to find his way to Sigyn Herzen, but he doesn't give up. And Signyn? She definitely doesn't want a new relationship, but she can't deny that she finds Loki more than a little hot. But she doesn't know if she can really trust him, and when the dangerous shadows of the past catch up with her, she searches for answers. Alone...

The magic of the snake

Loki comes to Vanaheim to call on the tribal chiefs of Vanaheim to join the army in a campaign planned by Father, the King of Asgard. When he sees Sigyn, he wants to take her with him as his lover.

However, Sigyn is reluctant and insists on a competition. She takes on Loki herself, defeats him and embarrasses him in front of the entire tribe. Loki is not satisfied with this, he seeks revenge. He wants to have the young Sigyn as a slave and dominate her. But these are not the only adventures Sigyn has to go through.

The night you left

It only takes a moment to unravel a perfect life...

When Sigyn's fiancé disappears without a trace the night after her marriage proposal, her life is turned upside down. But has Loki abandoned her or is he in danger?

As Sigyn desperately searches for answers, it quickly becomes clear that Loki was not the easy-going man she thought she knew. And as she uncovers a hidden tragedy, she realizes a terrible truth: that you can run away from your past - but your secrets will always catch up with you...

Daughter of the Gardens

Sigyn has had a special relationship with plants throughout her life.

Trees thrive near them. Her fruit becomes larger and riper than Frigga observes her niece's talent with great joy, because the flowers in her garden bloom long before their time.

But the reason for all these miracles is that Sigyn is Iduna's daughter. And Iduna protects Asgard Gardens from any intruders. But Sigyn has nightmares that haven't plagued her for 3 years now. And when Loki suddenly appears, she is convinced that he is the cause of her nightmares.

She is convinced that Loki will be the one responsible not only for Asgard but also for her mother's future death.

She doesn't know if it's a race against time or just her imagination. But Sigyn is ready to face this challenge and realizes that an unknown magic lies dormant within her. A magic that far surpasses that of all others. Only Loki recognizes her potential and is determined to exploit it for himself.

A queen without title and throne

As a woman, Sigyn doesn't have many options after the death of her father, the clan leader of the Red Dwarfs. The world she lives in is a dangerous place where women only rule through marriage. Since she is still far too young to get married, she automatically loses her claim to the throne and is sent to her mother's home world of Vanaheim, where she is supposed to live. Her uncle doesn't know what to do with her, so he takes care of her further education from then on. So that one day she can support her cousin in his government obligations. So a lonely life begins for the young girl, behind high palace walls. But these are not the only high walls that surround them, even Vanaheim's capital is surrounded by high walls in which the people have to live, a promise of security. But Sigyn's rebellious heart doesn't long for adventure. And after her best friend: Theoric, the son of a Absant from Asgard.

Part 28 is in progress ^^

Here you can find the last part

[studentinpursuitofclouds]

very self indulgent but i keep thinking about this scenario and its so silly, may i request a reader who's been somehow isekai'd (basically transported) into stardew and is proper down bad (or in other words; a massive crush) for magnus?

I have to say, I've never been a fan of isekai (not that I don't like it, I've just never been interested in that genre). But it turned out to be a lot of fun to write about this situation. I hope it didn't come out too mixed, it's just my first time writing stories in this genre. Thank you so much for the ask, anon! 😊💕

_________________________________________

You wake up on the grass near some strange bus stop. No one is around, your head is spinning, and you can't remember what happened. Here you were walking home from a boring job late at night to have dinner, go to bed in your small apartment alone and go to work again and so on until retirement. Suddenly - it's all gone dark and now you're standing outside the bus stop.

Hello, anybody here?

"Oh, you must be [Y/n]!" Finally, at least there's someone around, it's getting lonely and- Wait, how does that red-haired woman know your name?

"I'm Robin, local carpenter. Our mayor asked me to meet you and escort you to your new home!"

New what? Alas, before you could even say anything, the mysterious woman took you to an old ruin that she apparently called "your home".

"Ah, our new farmer!" And who's that old fart? Wha- what farmer?

"Nice to meet you! I'm Lewis, the mayor. Your Grandpa probably have told you about your farm back then".

But I don't... Grandpa's farm? You tried to say something, but you were interrupted again.

"Here's your new home! There is a shipping bin nearby, you can sell your farm products. Welcome and go ahead - get to know your new community!" As you stand there in shock, both strangers walk away.

What the fuck, you thought. Why does everyone think I'm the new farmer? And why did those two bring me to an old house with no furniture except a bed and a TV on the floor? No kitchen? And no toilet??? What the hell do you mean parsnip seeds?! Am I supposed to clear this whole farm of rocks and bushes with a rusty pickaxe and a flooded scythe???

You decide not to panic and play up the situation a bit to figure out where you are and how you can get back home, because the whole thing is a huge misunderstanding. At the same time ask around to the locals, what is this area? Stardew Valley? Huh...

"Playing along with the situation" became a bit more difficult, because you had to really learn the basics of growing crops, the local fisherman gave you an old fishing rod for some damn reason, and then on the fifth day of this hell you have no money left even for food and have to pick berries in the forest (wow, what a life!). After entering the Community Centre and getting to know the "apples" creatures you already doubt your own sanity.

The next day you get an mail from.... Ras-mo-di-us? Ok, weird. Asking you to come to his "magic tower". What this locals are smoking in here is a mystery of the universe, definitely. Anyway, you have no choice but to head to that very tower.

Flowers all around, the whole room is foggy, it smells weird, and it's also hot - it looks like some kind of drug den... So where's the weirdo?

"I've been waiting for you, young [Y/n]."

Oh, no, he's hot.

You wanted to slap your head. You're lost, you don't know what's going on or where you are, you're cursing all this farm work, the locals are weird, and this is some suspicious-looking bloke, and your first thought is "oh no, he's hot"? There's definitely some weird drugs in the air...

Look, you tried to keep your voice as calm as possible, I don't think I'm from this universe.

"I know, young fool". The fuck, what now? Well, bring me back!

"Alas, I don't have that kind of magic yet, it takes time and rare resources. For now.... You should be what the people of Pelican Town think you are."

Oh, that's just fantastic!

Running after the crows that ruined your crops, pulling an old can of local cola out of a fishing rod hook, walking with tired hands after cutting down some trees, screaming in the Mines, escaping from slimes and bats, making ingots for necessary machines until night.... And you've got some kind of magic now. A quiet country life, nothing fancy.

Then there's that annoying supermarket, which reminds you painfully of that boring old office job....

Although, the locals here are mostly friendly.... They see that you're uncomfortable in your new community and try to make you feel at home. You really appreciated it, and tried your best for them in return by listening to their stories or giving those leftovers of a successful harvest. Your skills grew, you had already made friends with everyone in the Valley, and even kicked that stupid Joja company out of town. Little funny Junimos, hee-hee!

In particular you became close to Magnus (Rasmodius' first name). Even though it was hard for you to still believe in magic, but his talk about parallel worlds, his fascination with magical plants, his talking, his laugh, his looks (dilf material, oh my!), his kind heart and his pride in new spells and magical protection of the Valley from monsters.... You fell in love with him.

And after some conflicting thoughts about whether you're allowed to fall in love with anyone here if this isn't your world? But you have long been part of this world, part of this cosy and friendly community, part of this incredible and magical world.

All dreamy thoughts were gone when Magnus announced to you in a ringing voice that he'd found a way to get you home.

Home?, you repeated. But I'm already home.

And you just kissed Magnus, the die is cast. If he refuses, if he turns his back on you, it'll be hard for you to bear. But Magnus, oddly enough, returned the kiss.

"Then... The choice is made. I was afraid that... I fell in love with you as well, and that you would have to leave forever. But now... Now..."

He didn't have time to finish, because you kissed him again, more passionately this time.

Insert subtitles, ladies and gentlemen, for here is the happy ending.

[gliphyartfan]

@yandere-linked-universe @stars-for-thought @imprisioned-in-the-hole @screaming-until-god-hears-me @crestfallenmermaidan @ice-cream-writes-stuff @linked-heroes @justanerd1

A quick one! sorry for the messiness folks! but I simply couldn't end/start the year without at least ONE small thing. (And the other thing that was SUPPOSED to be posted today isn't anywhere near finished)

I'll draw something for this a bit later, but for now, I hope you enjoy this small piece!

(Didn't know where to start it so I just wrote the main part and end, enjoy!)

...

.....

The container shot high into the sky, leaving a smoky streak in it's wake.

When it reached it's highest point, Wild detonated the bomb within the container.

For a moment, nothing, then, as the container blew apart, the sky bloomed into a shower of sparkling light.

(y/n) gasped loudly as glittery streaks of gold and white flew across the night sky.

Even though she had experienced many fireworks shows before, this one was absolutely breathtaking in its beauty. Her eyes lit with delight. reflecting the sight of the shimmering lights exploding over the vastness of the dark sky.

For a brief moment, she wasn't in Hyrule, nor back home. she was in a place that only ever existed during moments like this. Entranced by the lights and sounds, she could only stand there, hands clasped together against her chest, feeling her heart pounding as container after container followed the first one. She felt like a little girl again, sitting on her father's shoulders as she watched her first show.

Remembering how much she screamed in glee and pointed at her favorite ones. Her family cheering along with her.

Her homesickness went away as she was swept by her nostalgic memories, yet also stayed at the same time. What day was it back home? How was her family, her friends? Were they celebrating the holidays yet? if so, were they seeing fireworks too? Maybe, a deep part of her hoped, they were watching their own fireworks at the same time.

She hoped so.

It made her sad to think about. But happy, because this was simply another memory she was making. So many things to tell her loved ones when she found a way home.

She doesn't know what the future held for her, but she hoped there were more happy memories for everyone.

A hand rested itself on her shoulder, she looked to her right and saw Sky smiling gently at her.

"We hope you like it." He said quietly, barely heard amongst the explosions.

She returned his smile with one of her own, reaching up and clutching his hand with hers, and turned back to the beautiful display.

"I love it." she said in return, her voice cracking a bit. Her eyes welling up with tears from the overwhelming emotion she felt.

She was so touched by this. They didn't have to do this for her, but they did and she couldn't thank her friends enough.

She could hear Wild and Wind laughing loudly as they continued to set off the rest of the containers, The sailor manipulating the winds to gather the glittering items from the sky and sweeping them up into shapes and swirls at Wild's loud commands.

Time and Twilight were sitting on the grass just ahead of her, silently admiring the view, Hyrule and Four to the side, pointing at shapes that caught their eye.

She could hear Warriors loudly complain to Legend to not stand so close to him, with the veteran sarcastically throwing back his own retort.

A small gathering of friends, and a small celebration for the sake of good memories.

She smiled widely, content to enjoy this moment, only to gasp and laugh in glee as one last container shot higher then all the others, and then it stopped, shooting and fell back down towards the earth. It took a few seconds of silence before it exploded, showering the entire forest in brilliant shades of red, yellow, silver, orange and blue. A sight that could never be replaced by anything else.

And then it happened again, and again, and again until she felt dizzy with the endless stream of lights bursting overhead. The explosions kept going and going for what seemed like hours until she could no longer count the number of explosions or the amount of different types of firework colors. All she knew was that it was beautiful.

Moments like this were worth remembering.

She was so happy to be a part of this memory.

---

"She asleep?" Warriors asked, gathering what dragon scales he found on the ground.

"Out like a light," Twilight answered, a large smile on his face. "All that excitement wore her out."

"I told you she would love it!" Wild exclaimed proudly, high-fiving Wind.

"That you did," Time nodded in agreement. "It was a beautiful display."

"Especially the last one!" Hyrule sighed happily as he recalled it. "It was completely unexpected, but I guess that's what made it so memorable."

"Worth the noise." Legend threw in.

"Yeah but gathering all those star fragments and dragon scales was a pain, so don't expect another show anytime." Wild groaned , rolling his shoulders. "I'm pretty sure I'm never gonna see half of those star fragments again with how far they scattered."

"Why do you have so many of them anyway?" Warriors asked, handing the scales he gathered back to Wild.

Wild snatched them from his hands and huffed. "None of your business, that's why."

Twilight chuckled and messed with Wild's hair, "Having regrets cub?" Wild brushed his hand off his head.

"Not on your life."

"Though, I do think we should all follow (y/n)'s example and get some sleep." Four yawned, stretching out. "It is rather late and I don't think she's the only one wiped out."

Warriors looked at Wild, "Think we'll find more of your things tomorrow?"

Wild scoffed. "In this large place? Absolutely not."

"Then it's time to get some sleep everyone, who has first watch?" As Time said that, he motioned for everyone to head into the cabin to gather their sleeping supplies.

Wild stood up, yawning himself before he noticed Wind looking deep in thought.

"Rupee for your thoughts?" Wind hummed, tapping his chin.

"I'm just thinking..." Wild waited for him to continue but Wind stayed silent.

"...and?" Wind thought a moment more before sighing.

"It's just...where did that container come from?"

"Hm?"

"We only made like...12 of them. so when did you have time to make the 13th one...?"

Wild looked at him, eyes as confused as his were.

"I thought you made it." Wind blinked.

"I didn't make that one." They stood there, both trying to figure out

Who could've made that container. Neither having any idea who it could've been.

"...Nope.." Wind shook his head and started to make his way to the cabin.

Wild was even more confused, "huh?"

"I didn't make it. You didn't make it. and we both know the others didn't make it. So I'm gonna say nope, and go to bed."

"...but aren't you curious?"

"Nope." With that Wind went back into the cabin, leaving Wild throw off.

He stared off after him, trying to wrap his head around it.

He decided he would try to figure it out when he woke up the next morning.

Or not.

...Maybe Wind has the right idea.

...

------

As everyone gathered inside to get ready for bed, a light giggle was heard amongst the wind and leaves.

A figure sitting on one of the tall branches of the trees, kicking their legs and watching the light of the campfire slowly dim and listening to the faint noise of the others inside.

"Hee hee~"

Being tossed up in the air and back down onto their hand was one of Wild's star fragments a small bag to their side showed a decent amount of dragon scales and fragments inside. Their quiet laughter emphasized by the smile carved on the pumpkin sitting on their head.

"Silly~ Messy Sillies~"

And as quickly as they made themselves known to the trees, they faded away, the bag left behind. the star fragment that they had been tossing in the air falling to the ground below, their light giggles melding with the rustling leaves. Gone before anyone knew they were there.

"Hee Hee~"

...

(Happy New Year everyone!)

[imarvelatstars]

star-burned

Pairing: Jesse x gn!Reader

Word Count: 769

Content: modern au, implied smut but nothing explicit, fluff

Prompt: summertime for the clone bingo event by @karttaylir-darasuum

For the first time in a very long time, you wake up and Jesse is there. No more deployments, no more long-distance calls and patchy video messages. No more waiting for him to return to you, longing across the vast expanse of the globe, franticly worrying if he's near a battle zone or not, if his life is at risk. No, for the first time in a long time, neither of you has to worry about any of that.

He's finally free.

You press a kiss to his bare shoulder, light enough that he doesn't wake, and fully intend to stop there, but having the canvas of his skin exposed to you like this, in the quiet paradise of a modest cabin in the middle of literal nowhere, away from war and work and the hustle and bustle of everyday life, you find that you cannot stay away from your soldier for very long. You can't keep your mouth off him.

After all, you have a lot to make up for. Years worth of time apart, time when you could have been showering him in your affection.

"Mm, got something on your mind, babe?" His voice is roughly carved and guttural this fresh from sleep.

You pause only long enough to swat playfully at his butt before you continue kissing and nuzzling your way along his shoulder blade. There's no real rush, no method to your madness, not even an underlying desire for more as you explore him - just a simple desire to love the man who's carved a space for himself in the caverns of your heart.

"Just love you," you say when your lips reach the nape of his neck.

Jesse shivers, then suddenly flips onto his back so he can grab at you. You squeal and he laughs, and everything's a blur for a few moments as you both struggle to wield your leverage against the other, but he wins in the end. Jesse always wins.

His nose presses to yours, then his forehead to your forehead, and you feel his breath stir warm and stale on your cheeks. "Ka nui te aroha."

You kiss him, and he smiles into it the way he always does. "Love you more."

"Not possible."

"I dunno. I hafta put up with your morning breath, so I think that means I love you more."

"Tch, shuddup," he groans, to which you challenge that he ought to try and make you, and the morning devolves from there.

It's only some hours later, when you've both showered and dressed and eaten (and gotten distracted by each other every inch of the way), that you finally leave the cabin and head outside. Summertime has finally breached Aotearoa's shores and every corner of the country is celebrating - the birds are singing, the wind is mild as it carries the sunshine along, the trees lounge lazily while the cicadas buzz and click incessantly, and Jesse is eager to show you it all. He takes you for a walk through the forest, up and down windy paths under shaded canopies, past fields of wildflowers and tiny streams that trickle over scattered rocks.

This world is a lot of things. It's fractured and hurting in too many ways to count, but it's also beautiful and sweet, an ever-evolving universe spun from natural majesty and love and sunlight. You feel it now - the sun, burning into your skin in that wonderfully pleasant way it can only do when the clouds are long gone and the sky is dazzlingly blue. And much like the Earth to its star, you find yourself drawn into Jesse's orbit as he guides you through the countryside.

You're both toasted and sweaty by the time you return to the cabin late in the afternoon. Twilight leads to a lazy evening spent lounging on the sofa, watching your favorite show and munching on tim tams.

"I'm glad you're finally home, babe."

He nuzzles his face into your cheek and smiles. "Me too." It's funny how you never noticed how long his lashes were. Or maybe you'd forgotten with the distance. Either way, you can't help thinking he's the most beautiful man on Earth when his nut-brown eyes pierce through them. "Thank you. For waiting."

You'd have waited 10 lifetimes over for him.

It's there in that cabin, tucked into some obscure corner of the country where the cicadas drive him half crazy and the sun burns his head, that's where he asks you the question you'd never been sure he would ask, what you were afraid he'd never live long to say.

You say yes.

[yppngmtt]

can you pleaseee tell me about eleanor :3 her backstory or her personality or trivia or something....

eleanor is a complex character of mine with some history! she started out as an anthro deer and was "queen of the forest", inspired by a lot of Disney movies i had seen throughout my childhood. she also had an evil twin sister named chrysalis (which i totally did not steal from mlp). i was 9 at the time!

then just a year-ish ago, i remembered my concept of her and basically started from the ground up. she's now a chimera and would fit more into a fighter role, wielding a greatsword. her lore has changed a lot too! it's still something im actively working on (and still needs a name, but ill tag as #eleanor lore for now), but she comes from a fantasy universe with a variety of races, humanoid and beastly

the reason why she's a chimera is tied to a cult she was (unknowingly) apart of from a young age, who praised one of the five gods (seer-soth) to an unnaturally high regard. she was treated as a "chosen one to receive god-like power" and was scarified in the name of this god, which transformed her from elf to chimera in an extremely agonizing process

i haven't really found a smooth way to transition from this to her waking up with amnesia about who she is in a random field near a village. everything else is a heavy wip, except the end of her story where she gets revenge on the cult leader and stabs them to death with a stained glass mural of seer-soth. a fitting end :]

thank u so so much for the oc lore ask!!!! im sorry i didn't get to it right away, i had to take some time 2 think about it because of how disjointed everything is LOL

[paarthurnax59]

"Living Without You"

Warnings: death, Demon Deals, trauma, depictions of Hell, depression, self-destructive behavior, break up, angst, violence, demons, near death, blood, fluff, romance and moving on.

Pairings: Steve Rogers x reader(eventually), Dean Winchester x Reader (past)

 Introduction: You and Dean Winchester had been in a relationship for the past five years. The both of you deeply in love and to the world, seemed to be inseparable. Until Dean was killed by a demon on a hunt, leaving you and Sam alone. Consumed by grief and desperation, you go to a crossroads. You make a deal with a demon named Orobas, a prince of Hell. Dean comes back to you and he no longer remembers that he died. A year pass and your time run out; you were torn apart by Hellhounds. Leaving your beloved boyfriend to grieve your death. 

   Two and a half years on earth passed and you wake up in the fields outside of the Bunker. Something or someone pulled you out of Hell. For what reason, you do not know. Hoping the Winchesters would welcome you back with Open arms, you walk up to the Bunker front doors. You open to see Dean standing into door way. Instead of a pair of strong arms wrapped around you in a welcoming embrace, you saw anger in his eyes. He tells you that he moved on and fell out of love with you and said that he had learned to live without you. You argued until Sam came home and with Lisa, Dean’s old flame and current fiancé. The man you love then finally demanded that you leave, and never come back. And so you did.

     For months, you drowned your anger and heartbreak with hunts, alcohol, and more hunts. You become cold and unfeeling as time went on with very friends and allies to help ground you. To get away from Dean, you travel around the entire continent until you reached Canada. You heard of a case that seemed to be a simple werewolf hunt and investigate a fortress in the deepest parts of Alberta wilderness. The facility with what looked like had a symbol with skulls and tentacles on the guard’s uniforms. Suddenly, the alarm system goes off and shooting. A horrible monstrous beast breaks out and attacked the guards before coming after you, while trying to hide in the forest.

     You get horribly injured and nearly killed by the monster itself when a large man swoops in with a metal shield and you are saved by a group of people that you never expected, The Avengers. The team of Earth’s mightiest heroes take you to New York Tower to treat you after being healed by Dr. Strange. 

    When you awoke, a man by the name of Steve Rogers waited by your bedside. He introduces you to the rest of the Avengers and all welcomed you to the fold. Overtime, you slowly let the good, kindhearted captain into your comfort zone, despite your reluctance to his kindness and affection. He always checked on you, asked how you day went and was always a friend to you. You grew closer with each passing day, slowly feeling more like yourself again. Soon, you find yourself falling for America’s first Avenger, and it seemed that the feeling was mutual. 

Of course, the past has a way of coming back to haunt you. 

As your "relationship" with the honest, pure hearted man grew, you are also faced with not only your memories with Dean, but also of your time in Hell. The demon, Orobas, comes back time and time again to taunt and torment you, telling you that there is no chance in this universe of Steve Rogers ever loving you. Constantly reminding you of how tainted and broken you are by not only from your failed relationship with Dean, but also what you went through in those 300 years in Hell. Making you declare war against your own mind. 

Can you overcome your tortured past and open your heart again? Or will you forever be a slave by your own demons, literally and figuratively, and be closed off for the rest of your life?

Chapter 1

[ozzyscollectiblehub]

Chris Paul: The Point God of Basketball

Few players have shaped the game of basketball like Chris Paul. Known as the “Point God,” Paul has been the epitome of what a floor general should be for over a decade. His extraordinary court vision, leadership, and ability to elevate any team he plays for has made him one of the most respected point guards in NBA history.

With a career that has spanned almost two decades, Paul’s journey from a young phenom to a future Hall of Famer has been marked by consistency, excellence, and a relentless pursuit of greatness. Whether he’s orchestrating plays, sinking clutch shots, or mentoring younger players, Paul’s impact on the game is undeniable.

Early Life and College Stardom

Chris Paul was born on May 6, 1985, in Winston-Salem, North Carolina. From a young age, Paul’s basketball talents were clear. He attended West Forsyth High School, where he quickly made a name for himself as one of the best players in the state. His speed, basketball IQ, and natural leadership abilities set him apart, earning him national attention.

Paul’s college career at Wake Forest University was nothing short of spectacular. In his two years with the Demon Deacons, Paul emerged as one of the top point guards in the country. He helped Wake Forest achieve the №1 ranking in the nation for the first time in school history and earned ACC Rookie of the Year honors in 2004. His college success set the stage for his leap to the NBA.

NBA Arrival: New Orleans Hornets Days

In the 2005 NBA Draft, Paul was selected 4th overall by the New Orleans Hornets (now the New Orleans Pelicans). Right from the start, it was clear that the Hornets had a special player. Paul took home NBA Rookie of the Year honors in 2006, averaging 16.1 points, 7.8 assists, and 5.1 rebounds per game. His stellar debut foreshadowed what would be a long and distinguished career as one of the best point guards in the game.

During his time with the Hornets, Paul developed into a perennial All-Star. He became known for his exceptional ability to control the tempo of games, his incredible court vision, and his knack for making his teammates better. Paul led the league in assists multiple times and consistently ranked among the top in steals, showcasing his defensive prowess as well.

Paul’s best season with New Orleans came in 2007–08, when he finished second in the MVP voting, narrowly behind Kobe Bryant. That year, he led the Hornets to the second seed in the Western Conference playoffs, marking their best season in franchise history.

Clippers Era: “Lob City” and New Heights

In 2011, after a trade to the Los Angeles Lakers was famously vetoed by the NBA, Paul was traded to the Los Angeles Clippers. It was in LA that Paul’s star continued to rise, as he joined forces with Blake Griffin and DeAndre Jordan to form the high-flying “Lob City” Clippers. Paul’s ability to throw pinpoint alley-oops made the Clippers one of the most exciting teams in the league to watch.

Paul’s presence immediately transformed the Clippers from a perennial lottery team into a championship contender. He brought a winning culture to the organization, leading the team to multiple playoff appearances and becoming the undisputed leader both on and off the court.

While the Clippers never made it to the NBA Finals during Paul’s tenure, his impact on the franchise was profound. He led the team to its best regular-season records and deep playoff runs, while also earning multiple All-Star selections, All-NBA honors, and All-Defensive team accolades during his six seasons in LA.

Houston Rockets and Near-Miss at a Title

After his time with the Clippers, Paul was traded to the Houston Rockets in 2017. Teaming up with James Harden, Paul came as close as he ever had to winning an NBA championship. The 2017–18 Rockets finished with the best record in the NBA and pushed the Golden State Warriors to a seven-game series in the Western Conference Finals.

In what was perhaps the most heartbreaking moment of his career, Paul suffered a hamstring injury in Game 5 of that series, sidelining him for Games 6 and 7. Without him, the Rockets fell short of defeating the Warriors, who went on to win the title. Despite the disappointment, Paul’s time in Houston reaffirmed his status as one of the league’s elite point guards and fierce competitors.

Phoenix Suns: The Career Renaissance

In 2020, after a stint with the Oklahoma City Thunder in which he led a rebuilding team to the playoffs, Paul was traded to the Phoenix Suns. The move would reignite his career and push the Suns to heights they hadn’t reached in over a decade.

At 36 years old, Paul led the Suns to the NBA Finals in 2021, marking his first appearance in the championship series. His leadership, basketball IQ, and steady hand at the point guard position were instrumental in guiding a young Suns team to the Finals, where they ultimately lost to the Milwaukee Bucks in six games.

Paul’s arrival in Phoenix not only transformed the Suns into contenders, but it also further cemented his legacy as a player who could elevate any team he joined. In 2022, Paul achieved a historic milestone by becoming the first player in NBA history to record 20,000 points and 10,000 assists.

The Legacy of Chris Paul

Chris Paul’s career is defined by his rare combination of leadership, skill, and intelligence. His ability to control a game as a point guard is unmatched, and his influence on younger players is evident wherever he plays. Known for his fierce competitiveness, Paul demands the best from his teammates and himself, making him one of the greatest floor generals the league has ever seen.

Off the court, Paul is also recognized for his contributions to the sport and his community. He has been a prominent figure in the NBA Players Association, serving as president from 2013 to 2021. Paul is also known for his philanthropic work, including initiatives supporting education and communities in need.

A Hall of Fame Career

As his career enters its twilight years, Chris Paul’s legacy as one of the greatest point guards in NBA history is secure. A 12-time NBA All-Star, 11-time All-NBA Team member, and 9-time NBA All-Defensive Team selection, Paul’s list of accolades is long and impressive. While a championship ring has eluded him so far, his influence on the game and his ability to elevate teams make him a future Hall of Famer without question.

Chris Paul is not just a player — he’s a standard-bearer for excellence at the point guard position. Whether he’s dishing out assists, draining mid-range jumpers, or locking down opponents on defense, Paul’s imprint on the game of basketball will be felt for generations to come.

[sansajonquil]

Jeff is at his jeep, as me and Johnnie arrive. he is reading a book, relaxing in the warmth of his car. he is wearing a navy blue tunic and brown pants.

He has silver white hair and golden eyes in black framed glasses, a ranger storyteller in the woods.

the ceiling is light grey and soft. the snow me and johnnie had walked in was a bit precarious, as there was ice there, so we are careful, our boots having a strong sole.

As we hop into the jeep, our boots leave light pink snow in the dark brown ground.

Jeff says, upon seeing me, ‘ I saw you fight through the snow with a sword, of the death and destruction. the soul has a timeline on its own. ‘ he was quite concerned at hearing about the fire, as he sees firemen ; wearing brown outfits and hard hat go into building.

johnnie and I remembered to ensure the apartment was safe from harm during. he was a little shaken, glad I had woken him up in bed, remembering an devastating event when firemen came.

I look at jeff at the passenger seat, noticing closer he had a white moustache, I was quite tired indeed, being tortured in my chains at perdition.

johnnie had a dream of a car crash, where he was in a car with me, and then a crash where we are lying on the black grainy asphalt, immobilised, with hands twitching. ‘ I had the worst dream, ‘ he says upon me waking him up.

I had been drawing and colouring and listening to music and television in my orange striped clothes, and fighting with Johnnie during our living at apartment. there is a piano there, in which I sometimes play. i remember johnnie says to me in our fight, ‘ you bring death and destruction wherever you go ‘ in the silence of what Jeff says.

Jeff is a bit confused at my talking about my neurosis, in our time on the jeep, spending time with each other. I am looking at my phone to refer to. he says, ‘ this is a pervasive wound called the abandonment wound. ‘ he then says:

jeff says I have been holding myself hostage, a strange situation ; of the witch in the hut possessing me. there was a white dragon with green scales, kohaku river, with me. ‘ I love you like infinity… keep slowing your heart down. ‘

johnnie hears me too, having experienced strange delusions too, yet just hoping nothing bad happens, as he is tired, and painting his own grief. he also sees how depressed and scared I���ve been ; especially during our fight, of me thinking he and my surroundings was mocking me, he saying, ‘ it’s getting to me. ‘ he seeing me swept away by the tide of tin.

I relax against the embrace of jeff, as I reunite with him in the forest, I lightly cuffing his ear with my hand.

the snow is sprinkling around us, like a snowglobe in the forest. I am wearing a light purple dress with a little bird emblazoned in black, and purple net in hair. a gnarled branch is near me, its claws a blue shadow.

jeff is looking at me with his golden eyes, as I am cuffing his wolf ear in the snow, thinking I had a universe inside me. there is a chair with a person and black star night blanket. I am a plant growing into a flower.

[insult-2-injury]

(REWRITE) The Politics of Power - Chap 2

Modern AU! Professor Silco x FemReader

The enigmatic Professor Silco takes you in as his grad student assistant. It's only one semester, just how hard could it be?

Chapter 1 | AO3 Link

3.3k WC, SFW, Reader Insert, Eventual Smut, Slow Burn, Romance, Fluff, Student/Teacher Relationship

Thank you to my lovely beta readers, @sherwood-forests and @x-amount-verbs

Chapter 2

For a man with such lithe, unhurried grace in the classroom, he set an infuriatingly swift pace. You trotted just a half step behind Professor Silco, nearly colliding with his back as you struggled to untangle yourself from your bookbag strap after your hasty exit from his classroom.

Staff and students alike parted unconsciously as he strode down the center of the buzzing hallway, a flagship cutting a wake through the high seas, with you towed closely behind. The sheer force of his presence, the way it was projected outward, it was an almost exhilarating challenge to make camp at his heels, to try and remain within his potent sphere.

You observed him again.

The sharp slants of his shoulders. His jagged profile. The fixed glower he seemed to aim at simultaneously everybody and no one at all, something effortlessly unyielding about him as he staunchly, and rather comically, ignored any bold soul’s attempt to address him.

A fascinating study. And a striking diversion to help blissfully distance you from your surroundings.

Professors greeting in passing. Students reconciling after months apart. Not so riveting small talk about the topic of the summer’s record heat.

People were choosing their clans. Networking.  

Networking. You should be doing the same. Although it felt little more than a collaborative joke of a word at this point, the notion having been beaten into your skull so fiercely by now that it had lost all meaning.

It was integral to not have your name lost among the masses, apparently, but what an exhausting and disingenuous concept it proved to be in action.

You should be trying harder. Playing the game. Rubbing a few elbows. You were fully capable, worth your salt. There just wasn’t much of a point, you thought, when you hardly knew what you wanted in the first place.

Were you a little bitter? Probably.

You thought you'd known what you wanted when you started here.

You’d just gotten, well, a little lost among the masses.

Professor Silco’s bladed jaw tilted toward you only minutely, but it was enough to rip your focus away from him and back to the dwindling chatter as you neared an elevator. It dinged once as it began to shut on a group of excited, babbling students.

Professor Silco muttered something disdainful under his breath but didn’t falter, veering sideways into a shadowy alcove between two massive marble pillars and disappearing, ascending the narrow, winding metal staircase nestled into the hollows of the stone wall.

Impatient of him. But not unfitting.

On first impression alone, there was no universe in which you could imagine this man waiting for an elevator.

You jogged to catch up, zeal driving you up two steps at a time.

But the echo of his steps tricked you, and you nearly collided.

Professor Silco halted stiff as you only just managed to stop your hurtling form from crashing into his back again, feet scuffing, nails digging into the stone wall on either side of the narrow staircase. Before he could react, you had already exhaled an apology, heat blossoming across the apples of your cheeks.

The razor edge of his profile was no less captivating as he addressed you over his shoulder, aggravated. His teal eye glinted sharply from the soft glow emanating from the tiny, paned windows patterning along the rise of the outside wall.

“I didn’t realize I’d hired a leech.”

You propped there, wide-eyed, somehow not flung backward by his sudden proximity. Taking a single step down, you moved to clasp your hands in front of you, an ineffectual safeguard from that scorching gaze as it dusted across your reddening cheekbones from above.

“Well, I don’t know how you missed it,” you breathed quietly, forcing yourself to maintain the piercing eye contact. “It was right there in my profile.”

If he found you funny, he certainly didn’t outwardly show it. But there was something strangely close to amusement in the almost theatrically unimpressed narrow of his eye.

He turned wordlessly, using his arms to lever himself upward again. You hung back a beat before following, drew in a cleansing breath, catching for the first time the scent of tobacco that wafted lightly off his retreating form, an oddly pleasant smell.

“Your tardiness was a one-off, I hope,” Professor Silco’s voice spiraled melodically downward.

“Yes.” You hated how tiny you sounded. “Sorry I interrupted class. I wasn’t thinking.”

You thought you heard a low hum.

“Well, do try and think next time. I don’t tolerate discourtesy well.”

No, not well at all, according to some scathing reviews online. And he hadn’t seemed opposed in the least to discrediting you in front of the entire class, either.

“It won’t happen again, sir.”

There was a short, peculiar pause, where only your gentle pants and the arrhythmic stomping of feet punctuated the silence.

And there was a serrated edge to his tone when he spoke next that seemed to cast a cool breeze down the narrow passage, raising the hairs on the back of your neck.

“I’m sure it won’t.”

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

The top floor. Professor Silco’s office was on the top floor and by the time you practically limped out into the corridor behind him, your mind was solely focused on trying not to wheeze. You glared daggers at the back of his head as you walked, more than a little peeved that he’d forced his stubborn method of transportation onto your now burning thighs.

You supposed you could understand now how he kept that slender form.

He stopped abruptly before an open door, one to a tiny room, reaching with a long arm to switch on a light before stepping back again.

“For your office hours.”

Was it an office? Could it really be defined as such?

The walls were a chipped, unsightly off-white. Barely enough room for the wooden desk within, and the tattered rolling chair that looked one sit away from collapse. Not so much as a potted plant, an unsightly painting to draw from the distracting lack of distractions.

It looked rather like a tiny prison cell, almost purposefully designed to provoke madness. You looked to the man beside you, suppressing a shudder at the searching, downward tilt of his head, eyes seeming to drink in your uninspired expressions like they were a fine wine.

But you could make it work. Had to make it work. Besides, it was just four hours a week.

All you really needed was a straitjacket.

“It’s�� adequate,” you said finally, hardly able to keep the unimpressed inflection out of your tone.

Those mismatched eyes glittered, and you got the impression he was distinctly pleased at your word choice.

“Adequate. Good." He turned, beckoning you with a haughty incline of his head. "At the risk of echoing our previous correspondences, your office hours are 2-4 Tuesdays and Thursdays following class. Otherwise, your work is with me.”

You quickly shut off the lights to the tiny room, following him a short distance down the hall to a set of thick oak doors with shining brass handles. Unexceptional from the other pompous ones littering the hallway, yet it held a distinct energy that was uniquely him.

Professor Silco - Political Theory

That stupid little gold plaque seemed to wink at you as you watched him pull out a particularly ostentatious set of keys with elegant, mesmerizing hands, thumbing each one in a practiced motion until he was able to make quick work of the locks to allow you both in.

You swallowed, suddenly imagining those long fingers dipping languidly into a dark pool of water, hardly disturbing the surface as he brushed across it. You quickly blinked the odd image away, feeling that same restless stirring in your belly as you stepped inside.

What you found was surprisingly quite cozy, especially considering the cold, prickly man who dwelled there.

You jumped slightly at the impatient brush of Professor Silco’s vested shoulder against yours as he breezed inside before you found yourself enthralled once again by your surroundings.

A colossal, mahogany desk, was back and center, held by four curling, golden lion paws. A red wine-colored Victorian couch was to the left. Bookshelves were to the right, warping under the weight of their impressive collections, so tall they needed a sliding ladder.

Wrought iron windows twisted uneven patterns across the glass that spanned the entire wall behind his desk, where you could see the University’s spires rising like thorns out of a rose’s unruly stem. To the side of his desk there was an entrance to the outside, where you could see the castle structure continued along a stone walkway.

After one year, you were used to the Gothic architecture, and had grown to rather appreciate the unearthly shadows that littered the campus with a somber, mystic energy.

This room would be no different to an outsider’s eye. Yet, somehow, it felt strange, seemed more of a room in one’s home than a school office.

Maybe it was your lower-class upbringing, or maybe it was because you’d completed your undergrad at the local community college, where the staff offices were less extravagant, more built just for basic function, but this room reeked of new money: unquestionably gorgeous, in a wildly intimidating sort of way.

The place was teeming with antiques: a large, faded globe; several scattered piles of worn, well-read books; a shining gramophone sitting beside his desk on a side table. There were portraits upon portraits within gold-lacquered frames, some of long dead philosophers, one of looming mountains casting their reflection upon a dark, impenetrable sea.

You stood, you thought, in the entryway to a King’s private sitting room, feeling out of place fiddling there in your ratty little skirt and hand-me-down coat. You corrected your feet as they started to turn inward, like an anxiety-ridden child, and you nudged your chin up a touch, even as the smell of smoke and cedar began to sink its sinful claws into you, the unique smell of him seeming to scratch some itch deep inside you.

“Hang your coat and place your things at your desk.”

You threw a scowl at the back of his prowling figure, not appreciating the command.

Year of promises. Year of promises.

Biting your tongue, you headed over to the simpler, yet nonetheless extravagant table tucked into the corner to the right of the doors, placing your bag on its surface, allowing your fingers to linger upon the cool, dark wood. A small rose window shed a dim, eerie cast over your assigned little nook.

A little tremor of excitement had you bouncing on your heels slightly. This would be yours all semester, and you didn’t think it possible to have a grander view.

The company you weren’t so sure about yet.

As Professor Silco settled, you perused the room quietly, leaving your coat on in a small rebellion.

Something sparked delightedly in your chest as you inspected the little trinkets on his shelves, his various other antiques, eyeing the portraits on his walls with a childlike wonder.

One drew your attention immediately, hanging above the couch. It was a double-masted ship, tossing about on a torrid sea by light of moon, storm clouds darkening the sky to an ominous navy. Eight stretching arms of a creature rose from the sea, latching onto the wooden outsides, a terrifying amalgamation of crashing waves and limbs.

“The Kraken,” he said, and you nearly cracked a smile.

“I know. I always wanted to study monsters. Mythology and such.”

“Why didn’t you?”

“I mean I did. On my own time. Just didn’t reckon a degree in it would get me very far.”

“And history will?”

You exhaled a laugh.

Professor Silco was no-nonsense, certainly, but you were pleased to find he wasn’t completely without humor, however dry. You could see, entirely now, why the more sensitive students would find him unpleasant - harsh even. Yet you found his forthrightness oddly refreshing. Charming in a distinct way.

“Touché,” you said, and you both fell into silence again as he rustled through papers.

You continued across the wall.

Hobbes. Marx. Rousseau. Machiavelli.

“Too many portraits of men,” you remarked, forgetting yourself for a moment as you paused in front of Machiavelli, one hand on his book, the other holding a pair of gloves, lips forming a thin, sinister smile.

“In this room?”

“In the world.”

Skin prickling with awareness, your head swiveled to find Professor Silco had paused, hunched, palms bracing his form upright as he studied you impassively from behind his desk, wreathed in a dull halo of light from the window behind.

“History is unfortunately canonized broadly by men.”

“But so many of these men were driven to success by the women in the background.” You squinted at the portrait. “Which is probably why they all look like they’ve been sucking lemons.”

Amusement took the form of a soft exhale and if you didn’t know any better, you’d think the sound surprised him just as much as it did you.

“Do elaborate.”

“There’s someone behind the painter giving them the finger.”

“Hm.”

Professor Silco pushed himself up from his hunch suddenly, grabbing hold of a dug-up folder, head cocking decisively, and he prowled around to the front of his desk.

His increasing proximity cut into your space unexpectedly, like a heated knife, and you alarmingly found your thighs clenching. Every footstep nearer landed with a heated impact that pinballed straight to a spot between your legs, subtly pulsing.

His gaze dropped briefly to the movement, and you swore you saw the tightness in his closed jaw slacken ever so slightly before teal and orange bit into you again. Something darkly curious glimmered there for just a moment before disappearing.

The massive desk creaked as he leaned back against it, the points of his boots a little less than a foot away, perfectly appropriate, yet somehow much too close for your now cartwheeling brain.

You couldn’t remember the last time you’d felt so utterly bowled over by someone.

You cleared your throat, averting your focus.

“Perhaps,” he finally said. “Or maybe dourness is just the price of enlightenment.”

You were proud of the way you didn’t waver, becoming a bit cheeky as you steadfastly attempted to ignore his closeness.

“Could also just be one time-traveling portrait artist with a powerful vendetta against men.”

“Who are we to say.”

“I suppose that’s always been the narrative, though, men in power defrauding women, stealing their ideas, in order to subdue,” you said rashly. "Just a shame we’re all stuck here looking at their smug faces.”

From your periphery, you could see the hellish glow of his left eye, bright as a fallen fragment of sun, scorching across your profile.

Fuck. Your first day and you’d shown up late to class and promptly insulted the man’s interior decorating, which overall, you actually quite liked. You always felt foolish when you did this, became too impulsive. Hated the way you were a swinging pendulum, your words either flying out with the speed and venom of a striking cobra or flopping out dull and limp, like a deflating party balloon when you attempted restraint.

Your nose twitched.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean-”

“I would argue they don’t hold much power if they have to result to such tactics," he interrupted lowly, and like a fish on a hook, your gaze was reeled toward him, his words coasting across your skin like a satin ribbon on a breeze, tying your insides in heated liquid knots. "To subdue."

A heady desire crashed through you with force, and his face remained remarkably impassive as you searched it for double meaning, your own blooming bright red in the process.

"Wouldn't you agree?"

Only when you were confident enough that your voice wouldn’t crack did you speak. “I suppose.” You tilted your head stiffly to the file of papers in his hand. “Those for me?”

There was a pregnant pause before he hummed an affirmative. “Most of this has been conveyed already, barring some slight alterations to your schedule.”

“-Nothing significant, I assure you,” he answered the inquisitive scrunch of your brows as you grasped the manila folder. But he held on for a second too long, eyes finding yours again. “Vander did write a glowing recommendation letter for you.”

Curious, that thread of poison that crocheted through his voice again when he spoke Vander’s name, never deigning to use his title.

“Did he?” Your stomach flipped at the disconcerting lilt in his tone, one that could be written off as simple praise if you weren’t so highly attuned. “I hope to live up to it.”

His mouth creased as he released the file into your waiting fingers. “Oh, I’m sure you will.” Professor Silco pushed off from the desk, sauntering his way back around to his seat. “You are quite the sight on paper. Double major. Graduated with honors. 4.0. Most certainly a hard worker.”

He settled into his high-back chair, the outline of it sharp against the misty backdrop of the University. “I’m sure you’ll do just fine, hm?”

You stood stock still.

God, you had so many questions. So many. But now was not the time to inquire as to why he’d chosen you out of everyone else who was leagues above you. On paper, he was right, you were impressive, and you’d managed to skate under the radar quiet yet well-liked. You had been offered a history scholarship to one of the most highly acclaimed universities and like a lost, wandering pup, been hand-plucked off the streets by Vander’s capable hands.

You were grateful, no doubt, yet the cynic inside was loud. You hadn’t completed your undergrad at some snooty University on the coast. No, you’d gone to the local community college.

Did Professor Silco suspect? Did he suspect that Vander hadn't written that letter at all?

No. He couldn't, yet you couldn’t rid yourself of the nagging feeling-

The lyrical chime of your name from his lips pulled you quickly up and out of your reverie.

With a quiet thanks, you took a seat across from him.

“Political theory wasn’t your first choice, I take it.” It wasn’t spoken as a question; it was a statement.

“Why do you say that?”

“Today in class. You couldn’t have seemed more dispassionate if you tried.”

A feeling of mild discomfort washed over you at his astuteness. You were always so good about remaining impenetrable. It had you bristling slightly, the fact that he’d caught onto your insincerity.

“I’m just tired,” you said evenly, but your mind was still stuck on something else. “You know Vander, then?”

His lips twitched. “Is that what your little band calls him?” The fingers of his hands fluttered over the ends of his armrests in a thoughtful, hypnotizing pattern that had you fighting not to stare.

“Professor Vander,” you corrected.

At the title, something wicked, wrathful eclipsed the dispassion on his face for just a breath of a moment.

“He’s an old friend.”

You nodded, swallowed, and like a trained bloodhound, his gaze honed on the nervous movement.

“I trust you had plenty of time in class to familiarize yourself with the syllabus?” Eyes flicked back up to yours, face ironed back into a careful neutrality, yet tone holding a suggestion of dark self-satisfaction, seeming to know full well your focus had been elsewhere.

“Yes. I did,” you said indignantly, holding his gaze, insides withering beneath it like a flower under the beating sun.

“Oh, good." Professor Silco leaned forward, his long-fingered hands joining upon the desk's smooth, dappled surface. "Then. Shall we begin?"

<3 <3 <3

THANK YOU TO MY BETAS 💕

I wasn't completely proud of what I had written for chapter 2, and it was a big part of why I've taken so long to update. Apologies for the long wait, but I'm so pumped to write more Professor Silco. Chapter 3 is more than halfway done and should be posted within a few days here. Comments and tags motivate me in such a big way. If you like what you read, please let me know! Thank you so much for reading! - Your pal, Sulty

Oh, and please go check out @x-amount-verbs spicy one-shot based on this fic if you haven't already! Learning the Rules

I'm going to be making a taglist post for this fic, because I lost the note I made of everyone who wanted in (I live in chaos), so I'm so sorry if I missed you this time around or if I placed you here by mistake.

@x-amount-verbs @distinguished-jeseter-things @sherwood-forests @sweatandwoe @foppishish @ellhd-imagination

[thehavenwake]

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[sisterspooky1013]

Only One Choice, Part 2, Chapter 24

Read it here on AO3 / Tagging @today-in-fic

June 1999

The air smells wet and woody, birdsongs trilling in the early morning sun that trickles through a sky light. She stretches, then disentangles her legs from the sheets and stands, walking to the window.

There is a giant soaking tub in the corner of the room, flanked by two windowed walls that afford a sweeping view of the Cascade mountains, green carpeted hillsides meeting with a baby-blue sky.

She can still recall her mother’s face when they told her the wedding would be in Washington State. “But...we don’t even know anyone in Washington, Dana,” she’d said with a bemused expression, lamenting the length of their flights with a nine-month-old in tow.

Her mother’s reaction paled in comparison to Mulder’s excitement when she’d suggested the idea; she would spend their honeymoon relaxing with a book in the tub, and he could spend it traipsing through the woods looking for Sasquatch, or ‘squatchin’ as he called it. They would reunite in the afternoon, hiking, making love, catching up on all the conversations they’d missed while in the trenches of parenting a new baby. Mom would stay at the same resort with Molly so they could see her every day, while having precious nights to themselves; something they haven’t done since she was born.

She turns the tap on the bath, a blast of water thundering into the empty basin. When it’s full nearly to the brim, she disrobes and eases in, breathing deeply to inhale the juniper-scented steam, courtesy of the resort-provided bath salts. Closing her eyes, she thinks back over it all; their chance meeting, how she was drawn to him by a force that seemed to be bigger than them both, the anguish of wanting him but feeling like she owed it to Ethan to stay together. Her eyes snap open, a memory long-buried in the recesses of her mind springing forth like a trebuchet.

The day she met Mulder, she’d been planning to take the day off to go to a book signing for an author she admires. The signing was cancelled due to a scheduling conflict and she almost took the day off anyway, but had a last minute pang of guilt knowing that the workload that week was already heavy and Trudy would struggle to manage it all on her own. So she’d gone in, she’d performed that autopsy that should have been on Trudy’s docket, and she’d filled out the paperwork, and she’d met Mulder. How delicate the balance of the universe that such an insignificant choice completely changed the course of her life.

She suddenly misses him acutely, and a bundle of nerves and excitement flutters in her belly thinking about when she’ll see him next. She’d scoffed at the idea of them spending last night apart; they live together and have a child so the performative chastity seemed to be a bit much. He said it was like a fast, that a little time apart would make it even more special when they saw each other at the ceremony, and she ultimately acquiesced.

“Meet me on a mountain top at 4 o’clock tomorrow?” he’d asked as he backed out of her room, pulling away from the desperate kisses she was planting all over his face.

“Wouldn’t miss it,” she replied with a smile, and they said goodnight.

She smiles again, sinking down until the water slips into her ears. She can’t wait to marry him.

———

He sits up and arches his back, his spine protesting the cramped accommodations. Looking over at Byers and Missy curled up in the king size bed, he regrets his decision to crash on the couch here instead of staying with Scully in their room. Not only because he slept like shit with his legs hanging over the end, but also because work takes him away from his girls so often, he’s an idiot to add another day to it if he doesn’t have to.

He stands, hands on his hips as he twists to stretch his angry muscles, and walks to the window, taking in the dense green hills and valleys that surround them. He smiles, because she could have asked to go to Mexico, or France, or anywhere on the entire Earth and he would have given her what she wanted, but she chose the place she knew he wanted to go. Selfless and giving to a fault, his Scully. Soon to be his wife.

He quietly slips on his running shoes and sneaks out of the room, hitting the hard-packed dirt trail the concierge had told him about. The quiet forest is the perfect place to be alone with his thoughts, nothing but the thud of his feet striking the ground and the twitter of waking birds to distract him. He thinks about his life, about being a child who was lonely and alone, with parents who provided food and shelter but not much more. He thinks about Molly, and how she will never know that kind of pain, that there will never be a day of her life that she is not told how much she is loved. He wonders if his dad ever felt about his mom the way he feels about Scully, and he knows it’s not possible that he did, because if so they would still be together.

He comes to a break in the trees and pauses, breath heaving and lungs burning as he watches a hawk gliding through the valley below, hunting for breakfast. How easily he could have missed this moment, he thinks. Even one small change to the trajectory of his life, and he never would have walked into the autopsy bay that day. If the courier hadn’t been sick, if he hadn’t stopped by Kirkbride’s office when he did. Even further back, if he hadn’t stayed with the bureau with the X files were closed, if Valerie hadn’t been there to encourage him, or if he hadn’t met Valerie one random Tuesday at a record store. The path was long and winding, and it led to her. It led to him on this mountaintop in a sweat-soaked T-shirt, smiling at the thought of his baby daughter, his almost-wife.

He picks up running again, the smile staying on his lips. He’s always felt like he was running away; from his painful past, his regrets, his bad decisions. Now he realizes he’s running towards; his future, a thousand opportunities yet unseen, a kind of happiness he never thought he’d know. He can’t wait for the rest of his life to start.

———

He stands in a clearing near the edge of a cliff, the lush green landscape toeing up against the horizon looking like crooked teeth. Frohike stands beside him in khaki pants and a white linen shirt, a leather folio clasped in his hands. Mulder is also dressed fairly casually, in slacks and a blue Oxford shirt, the sleeves cuffed and the top button undone.

Scully wanted this to be as non-traditional as possible, to make it their own. There is no wedding party, no tuxedo, no flower girl or garter toss. No one will walk her down the aisle, as no one but herself has the ownership to give her away. The guests are small in number; immediate family only, plus the gunmen. Monica and Dahlia are house-sitting back in DC, minding Priscilla as well as the dog, King, that joined the family after the purchase of their house in March. Bucking the idea of arranging guests by whose “side” they are on, they all sit in a small cluster, and Scully will enter from the side.

He looks out and waves at Molly, who is standing on Missy’s lap, holding her hands and bouncing up and down forcefully. She squeals and shouts “dah, dah, dah!” which he chooses to interpret as “Daddy” even though Scully told him it’s just a nonsense syllable and doesn’t mean anything.

Langly gets the signal from Frohike and hits play on a small boom box, piping an instrumental version of “Can’t Help Falling in Love” up into the branches of the towering evergreen trees. He expected to feel nervous at this moment, but all he feels is excitement as Maggie scurries out from behind a line of trees and takes her place beside Bill, giving him a smile and a wink.

Scully appears from around the same group of trees and he grins broadly. He’s seen the dress, they picked it out together, but the full effect is stunning. Her hair, now grown well past her shoulder blades, is curled softly and pinned half up, brilliant red tendrils shimmering in the midday sun against her porcelain shoulders. Her dress is full length pearl satin, a slim sheath cut with off the shoulder straps. She is holding a small bouquet of pink peonies in her hands, and holding his eye with a playful smirk.

She arrives beside him and before the music stops, before Frohike has a chance to begin, he steps forward and takes her by the waist, kissing her fully. The guests laugh and he pulls away to see a confused smile on her face.

“I couldn’t wait,” he says simply.

They move through the ceremony, exchanging rings and vowing to love each other forever; promises they’ve already made to each other a hundred times. As they near the part that Scully understands to be the end, Frohike goes off script.

“Mulder has prepared some words of his own, he’ll read them now,” he says, nodding toward his friend.

Scully’s eyebrows lift in a surprised and confused expression.

“Mulder, we didn’t talk about writing our own vows,” she whispers, afraid she’s failed to complete the assignment.

“It’s okay, these are for both of us,” he whispers, and then, taking her hands in his, he reads a passage from her favorite book from memory.

“I have for the first time found what I can truly love; I have found you. You are my sympathy, my better self, my good angel; I am bound to you with a strong attachment. I think you good, gifted, lovely. A fervent, a solemn passion is conceived in my heart; it leans to you, draws you to my center and spring of life, wraps my existence about you, and kindling in pure, powerful flame, fuses you and me in one.”

The tear that slips down her cheek is borne only of happiness. She looks into his green eyes and sees contentment and love, and desire. It’s not a spark, what they have, nor an ember. It’s a wildfire, a white-hot torch, an eternal flame that binds them together inseparably. They were forged in fire the moment he laid eyes on her in that autopsy bay, maybe even before.

Frohike concludes, “by the power invested in me by the State of Washington, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss your bride…again.”

He wraps his arms around her waist, lifting her up as he kisses her deeply, a gust of warm summer wind picking up pine needles and tossing them in a mini-tornado that surrounds them both. Molly squeals “dah dah dah!” and claps for her parents.

———

She stands at the mirror, brushing her teeth. Her hair is combed out, her makeup removed, the white dress hanging in the corner of the room with the hem now tinged brown from the dirt that served as their dance floor.

Mulder appears behind her, an arm snaking around the waist of her satin nightgown. She smiles at the sight of his newly ring-adorned hand pressed flat against her belly, then leans forward to rinse.

“Ready for bed?” he asks softly, and she nods.

They slip beneath the cool sheets, curling around one another face-to-face; her leg threaded between his, his arms around her back, foreheads touching. She draws in a big breath and lets it out slowly, contentment settling deep in her bones.

“Do you ever think about all the things that had to happen in exactly the way they did to lead us here?” he asks, and she pulls back a little to look at his face.

“Yes, I was actually just thinking about that earlier,” she says with a curious lilt.

“Makes you wonder, huh, what lives we’d be leading if even just one detail were changed,” he says, tracing his finger along her shoulder blade.

“I don’t think it would have mattered, actually,” she says, and he gives her a quizzical look, silently asking her to elaborate. “I know this will sound a little far-fetched coming from me,” she begins with a self-conscious smile, “but I think it was always going to end up this way. Even if we hadn’t met when we did, we would have crossed paths some other way. Looking back over everything, it just seems like this was meant to be the outcome, even if the path to get here could have gone in a lot of different directions.”

He ponders this, remembering a conversation they had over coffee when, against all odds, she reappeared in his life.

“Like there was only one choice, and signs along the way to pay attention to,” he says contemplatively, lifting his hand to brush a lock of hair behind her ear.

“Exactly,” she replies, pressing her lips to his briefly, “it was always going to be you.”

END

[stray-kids-react]

Thier s/o being a vampire

Masterlist

...

Bang Chan

° You were bitten seven years ago, later being forced to join a cult of vampires. The youngest of them all, and also the most sensitive and kind.

° You didn't want to live a vampire lifestyle, and wanted to just live normally. You honestly didn't even enjoy the taste of blood, even animal blood.

° Your master took your sensitivity to his advantages, granting you access to go back to school while they followed behind and bit new victims during their breaks.

° As they formed an army of vampires, you grew connections to new people. Including your desk mate Chan, who seemed to take an interest in you.

° As the university semester went along, you sadly grew attached to Chan. Regretting it since he isn't immortal and has no idea that you are, and your cult could hunt him.

° Just as you walked to class the next day to tell Chan the truth, you realized the seat next to yours was empty. Your heart sank, knowing Chan wouldn't miss a class ever.

° You ran back to the cult mansion, noticing Chan's unconscious body being dragged into the building. Not hesitating, you ran up to your master and grabbed Chan from him.

"I WON'T LET YOU HURT HIM!"

"... Has y/n grown attached? To this... Mortal?" he laughed lowly.

° You dashed into the forest with Chan in your arms, cold tears running down your cheeks. Feeling immense guilt for involving Chan in this, it was your fault.

"Y-y/n?...." He groaned, a raspy voice as he just woke up.

"You're okay, oh thank heavens." You sighed, smiling sweetly. Not realizing your fangs were in plain sight.

° You only caught on that your fangs were showing by his widened eyes, soon covering your mouth in terror. But he didn't seem scared, just...surprised.

° He sat up in your lap, wiping your tear stained cheeks. Chan rested his head against yours as he smiled gently, before interlocking his lips with yours.

"You're not creeped out?"

"No, if you wanted to bite me you would've done it by now." He reassured, booping your nose.

Lee Know

° You and Minho were the newest members of your opposing cults, neither of you ever met. All that was shown was a photo of him to you, telling you to hunt him down.

° When you walked through those university doors, you had no idea that he was on the same mission but to find you instead. You thought he was just a normal human.

° He say next to you in every class you had together, listening to your responses to questions and noting your small habits. As you tried to do the same for him.

° It only took the next day for you to finally say a word to each other, noticing how attractive he truly was. Especially when he showed off his bright smile.

° It was his job to attract you to him, but you seemed different from the other three people he's had to this on. Minho actually felt a connection towards you.

° Minho didn't want to grow attached to you, but he had. So he decided to bite you instead of killing you, that way he couldn't lose you or let someone else kill you.

° But as his fangs protruded and he moved your tshirt down on your sleeping form. Minho noticed two scar marks from another vampire bite, you were already a vampire.

"Shit..." He sighed, realizing the situation he was in.

"Minho? Stop hogging the blankets." You whined, pulling the blankets back.

° Minho stayed silent, staring at the ceiling. Knowing he can't kill you, so he'd have to fake your death or his. He just couldn't betray you like that, you're too nice.

"You should've told me you were like me y/n." He replied, glancing towards your widened eyes.

"... You're the one who was suppose to hunt weren't you?" You asked, knowing the answer isn't a pleasant one.

° He nodded cautiously, flopping back down next to you. Wrapping his arms around your waist as you snuggled into him, his cold touch comforting you completely.

° The silence ate at both of your thoughts, both wondering what to do. Neither one of you cared about why your masters hated each other, instead how to escape.

"Let's runaway together." He suggested, burrowing his face into my neck.

"I'll follow wherever you take me." I replied, hoping our plan to runaway succeeds.

Changbin

° When you went into your vampire form, you almost completely blacked out. Only waking up to the dead body you murdered right next to you, terrifying you immensely.

° Your boyfriend Changbin was curious about the recent murder mysteries, wondering how they haven't found the culprit yet or even any suspects.

° You luckily caught on when you would turn into your form, it was when you ran low on animal blood to satisfy you. And it happened at midnight everytime.

° You kept your blood bags in your basement, locked away in the cooler. If your boyfriend found the bags of blood, you didn't even want to picture his reactions to it.

° But when you went grocery shopping, he visited thinking you'd be home. He made himself comfortable due to the many times he's been to your house.

° The usually closed basement door was opened just a crack, the unknown darkness peeking his interest. Even if he felt his own anxiety fill his brain when he got closer.

° When you go home, you noticed the basement light on. Realizing Changbin must've been visited, and is now in the basement you don't want him to see.

"Y/n... Are you. Are you the killer?" He asked cautiously, gulping loudly.

"Sort of... But I can't control it. I-I'm a vampire and black out when it happens." You sigh, knowing he won't believe you.

° Changbin turned around slowly, holding you close as you began to break down in front of him. He knew you wouldn't do this, so he had to believe you.

"I believe you y/n." He reassured, kissing your head.

"Thank you. You are truly an angel." You whimpered, regaining composure.

° Changbin felt bad for seeing how scared you were of yourself, not being able for your worst fear to be yourself. All he could was supply you with blood and comfort you.

° If it were anyone else to discover your secret, you'd be in prison or dead. But Changbin knew who you were deep down and loved you for who you were.

"I'll help you hide the bodies." He reassured, wiping your tears.

"I love you Binnie." You replied, kissing his knuckles.

Hyunjin

° Hyunjin was bitten years ago, but refused to go near any human. He only used his inhuman abilities to protect you from other vampires who craved your untouched blood.

° You were one of the only humans left in town, most being unnatural creatures from nightmares in disguise. But Hyunjin always made sure Non of them effected you.

° The only people he trusted you with were his best friends, Han, Seungmin, and Felix. But they seemed to be weaker when it comes to the temptation of blood.

° So during a game night at their apartment, Felix followed you into the kitchen. You didn't think much of it since he was your best friend who you trusted quite a bit.

° But the sharp sting of two fangs sinking into your flesh froze your body from fear alone, Hyunjin was the one suppose to be the to bite you. Not Felix.

° You tried to keep the secret from Hyunjin, knowing he'd feel an overwhelming amount of guilt for not being there. Plus you felt guilty for not being more cautious.

° After you and Hyunjin would marry, he would bite you. It was a plan that both of you were excited for, but now you just ruined that important moment for the both of you.

"Y/n... Felix told me what he did." Hyunjin commented, leaning on the door frame.

"I'm so sorry Hyunjin, is should've been more careful." You sighed, guilt building up.

° Hyunjin walked up behind you, resting his chin on top of your head. He swayed you both back and forth, comforting all the sadness and guilt away.

"He apologized over 100 times." He chuckled softly, rubbing your knuckles.

"I think will 1000 times." You replied, leaning into his body.

° Hyunjin didn't hold a grudge against either of you, relieved Felix wasn't so effected by temptation that he killed you. But it still hurt him a bit, wishing he could've been the one.

° You let him bite the marks Felix made, making it his own. Even if it hurt more, you felt more relieved and comfortable with Hyunjin's bite. Feeling at home with him.

"Now you're mine. Forever." He teased, kissing the bleeding marks.

"Just like I've always wanted." You replied, cupping his face.

Han

° You were a killer vampire who didn't really care about your victims ever, only focusing on making sure you got your blood and no one would try to stop you.

° That is until you fell into someone's trap, being trapped in a net as the man revealed himself from the shadows. That prey that you tried to get, was simply a dummy.

° He trapped you in a jail like cell, feeding you nice meals along with dessert. Even going as far to get animal blood for drinks to go along with the meals.

° He couldn't let someone as dangerous as you go back into society, but he didn't want to be rude or anger you either. So it usually consisted of awkward encounters.

° As days went by, you went over all of the things you achieved in life. Realizing you hadn't even lived your life to the full potential it could be with your abilities.

° As your heart grew larger and your mind opened up to humans, you became attached to the man who caught you. It was more like a chance back to reality then a jail.

° He seemed to care about your comfort and safety, as if he knew that there was still a person inside of you. He didn't intend to hurt you, more healing you instead.

"How are you feeling today doll?" He asked, bringing the dinner you requested for.

"Thank you mortal." You huffed, looking sincere for once.

° The smile that embraced his features caused a flutter to your heart, you now know that this one human was impacting you more than the temptation of blood.

"Why did you treat me so well?" You asked, stuffing your cheeks with a bread bun.

"Everyone has a heart with feelings at the end of the day, you are no different." He explained, brushing the hair from your eyes.

° Han let you make yourself at home, even letting you cuddle with him in his bed. You never felt such a joyful feeling when he laughs at one of your lame jokes.

° You were free to go and live your vampire lifestyle once again, but you enjoyed his company far too much to leave. You fell for him hard, and felt happy about it.

"I think I fell for you Han Jisung." You admitted, avoiding his gaze.

"I'm glad I am not the only one who fell for someone." He replied, placing a kiss on your nose.

Felix

° You worked at the movie theatre with a whole bunch of girls who hated you for no reason, and guys who called you weird for not showing skin like the other girls.

° It was hard to act like nothing was wrong when you fight the urge to suck the blood from anyone pissed you off, and to gain confidence in the new form you hate.

° The only person you could rely on was your close co worker Felix, he made it his mission to stick up for you and make your days just a bit brighter than usual.

° Felix liked your quirky habits and differences from other people, he had a crush on you since you first started to work the same shifts as him.

° When your cravings were becoming insane, elf like ears would appear and your energy would decrease immensely. You usually blacked out during those times.

° Felix noticed your unconscious body next to your car, immediately rushing over in a panicked manner. He didn't even question your ears, he just need you to wake up.

° He heard your small unconscious murmurs about blood, licking your lips dryly everytime. Felix had suspicions that you drank blood, due to a lunchbox mix up.

"Oh thank God you're awake." He sighed, crawling off of you.

"I can't remember how I got here, but thank you. How'd you wake me?" You asked, noticing the cut on his palm.

° Felix revealed the lunch box mix up that happened earlier that day, explaining that he cut his palm and dripped some blood into your mouth assuming you had cravings.

"Do you think I'm creepy now?" You asked, leaning against your car door.

"Not really to be honest, you're still y/n. And I like you for who you are." He answered, running a hand through his hair.

° Felix suggested to drive you home since you still seemed a bit dizzy, holding you until you reached the bedroom safely. You flopped onto the bed, sighing comfortably.

° He was about to leave when you gripped his wrist, leaving a small kiss onto his cut palm. Insisting he stayed with you for the night, knowing he must be tired from the day.

"I have a spare mattress if you don't feel comfortable sharing." You reassured, grabbing your pajamas.

"I think I'll like sharing with you." He whispered, leaning onto you as he hugged you softly.

Seungmin

° You were bitten a week ago while going for a walk, you couldn't catch a glimpse at who had bit you. But you were more worried on how you would explain this to Seungmin.

° You were becoming weak, boney, palmy, and tired. All because you would be in the sun for too long, Seungmin noticed this and was scared that something was very wrong.

° He took you to the doctor, but nothing was apparently wrong even if you looked like death. Seungmin's mind raced with possibilities, not wanting to lose you.

° It was only til you fell asleep on the drive home that he noticed the bite marks, his heart sinking realizing what had happened. He bit you while in his vampire form.

° It wasn't common for him to not remember anything after a form switch, unless he was desperate for blood. Seungmin felt terrible for putting this illness upon you.

° It would take one more week of suffering until your body got use to the bite. And he would have to deal with the guilt all throughout those seven days.

° It didn't take a mind reader to realize Seungmin was feeling upset, and you could even tell while still feeling terrible. You assumed he must be apart of your bite.

"Be honest baby, did you bite me?" You asked in a gentle tone.

"I'm so sorry y/n. I feel terrible." He whimpered, nearly tearing up.

° Your limp arms wrapped around his figure, comforting him during those harsh thoughts that must've raced in his mind. You weren't mad with him, and never could be.

"It's okay Seungmin, I'm not mad." You reassured, kissing his shoulder.

"I would be if I were you." He sighed, glancing at your tired eyes.

° His guilt began to clear up as you became healthier again, helping you as much as he could with anything you needed. Even if ti were just simple cuddle sessions.

° When the week passed and your body fused with your new form, he never felt such excitement when you flew around the room squealing in pure joy.

"Baby I'm flying!" you squealed.

"I know baby, you're doing great." He replied, falling deeper in love.

Jeongin

° Jeongin saw you get murdered with his very own eyes, yet there you were sitting on top of your grave stone as he mourned your death. He couldn't believe his eyes.

° He was convinced that he was just going crazy and you were a hallucination to torment him. But all of your touches towards him felt so real, just like when you were alive.

° You had to physically push him to the ground for him to believe you were back from the dead, and wake him up when he passed out from shock alone.

° He couldn't tell anyone that you were alive and kicking, knowing they'd hunt for you or think he's going insane. So he kept it to himself and met you in private.

° Jeongin noticed two bite marks on the side of your neck when he pecked across it lightly, he assumed that you were either bitten or cursed back to life.

° Your confession to being a vampire wasn't surprising to him, the whole scenario seeming so unrealistic. But he was so happy to have you back, that he didn't care one bit.

° Jeongin would let you bite him in an instant, never wanting to lose you again. You are his everything and seeing your lifeless body was too much for him to experience.

"I hope you don't mind keeping me secret." You commented, holding his hand.

"No, I understand why you'd want to stay secret." He replied, pulling you closer to his body.

° As months went by, the craving to be bitten by you crossed his mind more and more often. Jeongin was ready and wanted to be with you forever.

"Can you please bite me?" he asked gently, leaving his neck back for your fangs.

"Are you sure, this isn't exactly something you can take back Jeongin." You explained, holding his face in your hands.

° Jeongin kissed your lips softly and slowly, pulling your hands down from his face. Soon nodding sincerely as he leaned back once more, preparing for the slight sting.

° The sting wasn't as terrible as he assumed it to be, maybe you just went gentle on him. Either way the excitement of becoming like you overpowered the sting in his neck.

"There, now you're like me!" you chuckled, clapping happily.

"Nothing could beat this moment." He replied, kissing your lips once more.

[silverphoenix212]

Bring You Back to Me

Read on ao3

(Inspired by @oceantail-oceantail and her fic prepare the diving bell. Here’s the comfort to your hurt.)

Fruit has heard the Poem one hundred and thirty six times in the voice of what used to be his best friend. He knows this because he has counted each one, a precious despised memory that he can’t let go of wants so desperately to forget. This time is no different, as he stands at the fountain, the last dying screams of the dragon ringing in his ears. He ignores the inky void that forms below and instead holds out his hand, a faded lavender ribbon clutched in his palm.

They said there was no way But they forgot the black hole in the sky Yesterday is nothing I have half a life to rewrite Flying into this future I will let the science bring the change This will be the final cure I am gonna take the past away

“Do you remember?” He asks the vast nothingness of the end. “I don’t even know if you hear me anymore, but you should have this back.” He lets the soft fabric fall from his hand, watching as it disappears into the starless abyss just like his friend did so long ago. Fruit doesn’t know what he’s hoping for. The Universe is still and silent, unresponsive to his plea, and he gives in and falls forward into darkness. Yet even as the cold and unforgiving void engulfs him, there is something different. The Universe speaks, but it’s a different voice that replies.

Fruit.

His name, spoken not by some all powerful mockery of someone he once knew, but by Illumina. The voice of his friend, warm and comforting, not tainted by some power he barely understands. He desperately reaches out, but before he can even reply the voice is gone, replaced by the Universe touched. The Poem continues, but Fruit knows what he heard, even as he gasps awake back in the stronghold. His friend is alive.

With the full force Of a dying star I will find you If you’re near or far Wherever you are

He barely remembers the next world, except that he spawns in a flower forest and gathers as many alliums as he can hold, cradling them carefully even as he dodges sharp swords and fireballs. A memory floats to the front of his mind, of Illumina holding out a purple flower. “For good luck and friendship,” he’d said, and Fruit whispers it back as he places the blossoms gently into the fountain. He would move mountains to hear Illumina’s real voice just one more time, but he isn’t speaking to the Universe through grand gestures and feats of strength. He’s speaking to Illumina, his friend, through the language of memory and love. He’s rewarded by the voice he remembers so clearly.

and the universe said you are stronger than you know

and the universe said you are not alone

and the universe said I love you because you are love

Floating through forever I am stealing the energy Endlessly endeavor This is finding infinity I’m falling through a dark sunrise I will escape the entropy And find a way to leave this time I will bring you back to me

Fruit fights the void this time, fights the sensation of endless falling, of his body being torn apart and made anew in his bed, of the Universe that screams at him to wake. He isn’t made to withstand this force, but it doesn’t matter. He hears the voice of his friend, nearly drowned in that of the Universe, but it’s still there, a gentle whisper fighting to be heard, and Fruit would sooner dissolve into nothingness here and now than leave him behind one more time.

With the full force Of a dying star I will find you If you’re near or far Wherever you are

He reaches out a hand on instinct. He doesn’t know why, doesn’t know what he’s reaching for, but another hand grasps his own. He still can’t see, blinded by the darkness of the void and the Universe, but he can feel soft skin, and in between, a strip of satin fabric and a thin flower stem. Wings envelop him in a warm embrace, battling the cold emptiness of the place in between life and death, and though the Universe would say it sends him back home, he knows the truth. Fruit pulls home back with him.

Wherever you are

[mooshys]

hq + hogwarts house sorting

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CONGRATULATIONS on your acceptance to HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY on JANUARY 16th, 2021. 

Below are the houses with which some of our finest students have been sorted into along with key characteristics pertaining to them. Each house is equal, but the one you are sorted into will hold a dear place in your heart as your housemates will be like your family. Feel free to get acquainted with the customs of each house in the days before the first term. 

I wish you all the best with your sorting ceremony,

AURORA

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GRYFFINDOR ➝ daichi, ushijima, iwaizumi, aran, yaku, tanaka, nishinoya, hoshiumi, hinata, goshiki

HOUSE AESTHETICS ➝ freckles on your nose from sun exposure, the horizon seen from the top of a mountain, freshly squeezed orange juice, beat up sneakers from years of wear, wildflower bouquets, rubies on a crown, old movie tickets kept in your pocket, lightning storms in the summer, dirt paths leading you to a forest, apple pie baked in the morning, bandages wrapped around your fingers, cherry lip balm, fraying denim, popping of champagne bottles, t-shirts tossed to the side to dive headfirst into a lake, names carved on the trunk of a tree, mismatched earrings, stained glass windows with sunlight filtering through them

LOVE FOR A GRYFFINDOR ➝ forehead kisses, engulfing you in back hugs and rocking you from side to side while humming, singing along to your favorite song, a polaroid picture of you in their wallet, introducing you to their family with pride in their eyes, holding your hand tighter when navigating through a crowd, getting you a locket with a photo of you two as a birthday gift, saying “I love you” as soon as they realize

WHAT SETS THEM APART ➝ the ones willing to take the jump without knowing if the water is too cold or too shallow, the ones who stand by your side and fight for what is right, the ones who are not afraid of what others think, the ones who run to the ends of the earth for you, the ones who are fearless

SHENANIGANS IN THE COMMON ROOM ➝ bringing in plates of food from the great hall and creating different concoctions in the middle of the night, making giant pillow forts and chatting there until the early morning, sneaking out to the quidditch pitch to watch the sunrise

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SLYTHERIN ➝ oikawa, tendou, semi, daishou, sugawara, atsumu, osamu, sakusa, futakuchi, shirabu

HOUSE AESTHETICS ➝ silver jewelry that never tarnishes, fur coats to keep you warm in the winter, the perfect red lipstick, dark chocolate covered strawberries, renaissance paintings, vines of ivy scaling castle walls, drips of wax from a candle stick, the sounds of an orchestra reverberating through an opera house, black turtlenecks, gold fountain pens, espresso from rome, leather gloves, crescent moons, head busts of roman emperors, wire rimmed glasses, silk, blackberries picked from your home garden to make jam, berets, flute glasses being held for a toast, gold cufflinks with a family emblem, pristine robes

LOVE FOR A SLYTHERIN ➝ banter going back and forth as flirtatious plights, making fun of cheesy movies together, gifts of jewelry for anniversaries, kisses on your neck, your perfume being their favorite scent, retreats to a winter cottage for vacation together, shielding you from the rain with their coat during an unexpected storm, whispering “I love you” in your ear in the middle of a crowd to see what kind of reaction you’d give them

WHAT SETS THEM APART ➝ the ones who walk in a room and command its attention, the ones who seize the day with an iron grip, the ones who know their talents and polish them until they shine brightest, the ones who walk with their heads held up highest, the ones who are exceptional

SHENANIGANS IN THE COMMON ROOM ➝ poker nights with sweets from honeydukes used as chips, wizard chess bets leaving some of the younger students broke after multiple heated game, putting toads underneath blankets as a prank and the perpetrators waking up with a jelly-leg curse

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HUFFLEPUFF ➝ asahi, bokuto, hanamaki, matsukawa, komori, yamaguchi, yachi, lev, koganegawa

HOUSE AESTHETICS ➝ picnic spreads in front of a sparkling lake, sunlight illuminating your irises, washi tape, amber gemstones held up to the sky, the last string of honey stuck on a spoon, letters from friends and past lovers stored in an old cookie tin, green pastures with cows grazing the land, roasted chestnuts, rows of tulips, lace sewn on your sleeves, wooden figurines, lazing underneath a willow tree, paint brushes, walnut brownies baked after dinner, sheen on the highest points of your face, seashells kept from the beach, fluffy clouds shaped like animals, cookies wrapped with parchment paper and tied with twine

LOVE FOR A HUFFLEPUFF ➝ groggily mumbling “five more minutes” in the morning before getting out of bed because they love the way your body is pressed against theirs, always making two cups of coffee in the morning, putting a blanket over your body when you’re sleeping on the couch, getting your favorite ice cream pint at the supermarket even though you didn’t write it on the grocery list, being the first one to text you on your birthday, showing “I love you” through remembering all the things that make you special

WHAT SETS THEM APART ➝ the ones who always stop and lend a hand, the ones who give up what is theirs if it benefits others, the ones who never forget your name, the ones who make the biggest sacrifice, the ones who are altruistic

SHENANIGANS IN THE COMMON ROOM ➝ sitting near the fireplace and roasting s’mores together, dance parties and clanking of butterbeer glasses to celebrate the end of exams, playing a game of pictionary instead of doing homework

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RAVENCLAW ➝ kuroo, kita, kiyoko, kenma, hirugami, akaashi, suna, ennoshita, terushima, kunimi, tsukishima, kageyama

HOUSE AESTHETICS ➝ passing notes stained with coffee in secrecy, sugar cubes dissolving in a cup of tea, constellations telling stories from generations past, violets, blankets of soft snow seen outside your window, chunky boots, running your fingers across a velvet blanket, sleeping with a book covering your eyes from the sun, stardust, notes written next to your favorite scene in a play, gold trimmed letters, ink smeared on fingers, the tail of a cat swinging back and forth, telescopes, mascara smudged at the corners of your eyes, a scarf knitted by a close friend

LOVE FOR A RAVENCLAW ➝ two a.m. facetime calls talking about anything and everything until it’s silent on both ends and neither of you mind because time spent together is never a minute wasted, chaste kisses when passing through rows of shelves in the library, sharing your favorite songs with each other, reading a book because you offhandedly mentioned it once, falling down the rabbit hole and never wanting to escape, writing “I love you” at the corner of your notebook and waiting until you notice

WHAT SETS THEM APART ➝ the ones who pause and always pick the right words, the ones who devise plans like no other, the ones who try to understand everything the universe has to offer, the ones who will go above and beyond to change the system, the ones who are erudite

SHENANIGANS IN THE COMMON ROOM ➝ students gathered together with bowls of popcorn to watch a meteor shower, jeopardy games regarding historical magical figures being played with the stakes of winner getting their homework done by everyone else for a week, all nighters dedicated to deciphering ancient text

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[fakecrfan]

Since you very nicely offered to write me a fic:

Your prompt is: A story about a background character or characters dealing with life after the TMA apocalypse.

It can be set in the OG TMA universe in the post-post-apocalypse, or it can also be set in a different universe that was affected by the events of MAG 200.

Both OCs and characters established in-show are allowed.

This one aligned so well with my interests that I am actually tempted to open my inbox, briefly, in case anyone else has questions like “what is X bavjground character doing after the apocalypse?” so I can make a series out of it and expand on my post-post-apocalypse headcanons.

For now, you can read your fic here, on over here on AO3

---

Sarah doesn't know where she is.

England, she has to still be in England, she thinks. But it's not an England she recognizes. Not the cobblestone streets of London, and not the moors she used to visit on her vacations. The ground is barren, as though all blades of grass but a few have shriveled up and died. There are no trees, houses, or landmarks for miles--just scorched remnants of where they might have been before.

For a moment, the emptiness of it all is a relief after the hotel. But everything is the same on all sides, and she doesn't know where she is or where to go. She's starting to get hungry, too. She never got hungry in the hotel, nightmarish as it was.

She has to sit down for a moment, take a few deep breaths, and think.

Get food. Find shelter. Survive.

Find Alex.

(God, why had she left her child in a hotel room? Little twelve year old Alex who was still afraid to sleep without a night light. He'd begged her to stay, she should have--)

With that in mind she gets up. Doesn't know what direction to walk in, so she doesn't concern herself with trying to pick one. There's nothing to do but walk, keep her eyes open, and hope.

So she hopes.

---

None of our old maps match the landscape, anymore.

The world these days it's... not like in the before times, as I suppose we're calling it. Despite our hopes, ending the apocalypse wasn’t like everyone waking up from a nightmare. The land is...

It's scrambled, I guess. There are patches of the world that--well. They're not the same, but still have infrastructure intact. Electricity, running water, air conditioning. No scorched earth or rubble in these areas. Just a bunch of traumatized people living in an intact town, or city.

When I talk to them, they tell me it's not the city they remember, though. Everything has been switched around, houses and stores not where they remember them. Their neighbors aren't the neighbors their remember.

Those are the lucky ones. And then there's, well... the outside.

Some places have rubble everywhere, jagged steel ripped apart and waiting for someone to cut themselves on it. Some are frozen over, still waiting for the ice they were frozen over with in the apocalypse to melt. Some are scorched to dust. No phones out there, or anything that lets you connect back with home base.

I'm going out there. We need to map it out. We need to figure out our new world, understand it--and we need to get as many people out of the wastes as possible.

Melanie, Georgie--I’ll see you soon.

---

Sarah does find water. That's something. She's hungry still, so hungry, but she knows that the water is more important.

She wonders if she should stay there. She doesn't know if there will be more watering holes in the future, after all, and she has no way to carry it with her. She decides to keep moving on, and hope for the best.

She starts to see blades of grass poking up, along with some sort of metal crap strewn about the landscape. She looks at them a moment--it seems to be bits of an old carousel? Eventually, a giant sit in their shade, for a while. There she takes a moment to look at the horizon, and goes cold.

She recognizes the tower on the horizon.

A  scaffolded tower with two legs beneath it. A sight she'd last seen on a postcard from her brother. The Eiffel Tower.

Is she in Paris? No, that can't be it. It's just the tower out here in the wastes. There are none of the buildings that would normally surround it. It's almost as though its been ripped out of the city and transported here.

Does Paris even exist anymore? Does London?

If she even finds Alex, will there be a home for them to go back to?

---

I have a theory, Melanie. I think lots of people got transported to different places in the world based on what fear they belonged to. Like, a bunch of lonely people were put in the same place, a bunch of claustrophobic people were put in the same place, and so on. All away from the people they knew.

I’m in one of the suburban safe areas now. No one here knows each other. I talked to them all, and all of them remember living in the same house before, but none of them recognized the houses near them or the people in them. When I went from house to house, everyone had a different native language. I talked to a German guy and a French guy who spoke English, but a lot of them… couldn’t talk to me at all.

There was a woman who--she saw me and she lit up. She grabbed me and started talking a mile a minute in Arabic, I think. But I couldn’t understand her, and she--when I tried to talk back to her in English, her face just. Fell. And then she started to cry.

My dad refused to speak it at home, you know. He-- Actually, never mind. It’s not important. 

She ended up shoving me away.

---

Sarah makes it to the ruins of a forest. 

There’s nothing but stumps left of it, along with litter everywhere. She finds water again, filthy brackish water, and she drinks it anyway because she’s so thirsty. She starts sifting through all of the garbage strewn about for something edible. She finds stale bread crusts crawling with ant and eats them anyway. 

She finds a can of beans, and almost cries. When she can’t find a can opener, she screams instead.

---

The death count has gotten to me, honestly.

I’ve found dead bodies even in the towns and cities. Some looked like heart attacks. Some suicides. People who woke up but couldn’t bear the agony they’d just gone through. That’s still not… the worst of it.

I passed a whole field of dead bodies today.

Hundreds of people, I think, all of them lying dead in the soil. But there were... trails. They had been walking, before they collapsed. All walking in the same direction, to where you can still see London on the horizon.

They were alive. They were trying to get help. And they just... starved, it looks like. The walk was just too long.

How many people are going to die from it all, Melanie? How many already have, out where we can't see them?

I left as many jugs of clean water and rations along the roads as I could. I put up signs pointing to London, saying how many miles out they were, where I had stashed food. I gave them your number, so they know who to call to get to the shelter.

I hope it means the next group that passes by won't die.

I hope there is a next group.

---

Sarah can see what looks like a city in the distance before she collapses. 

She tries to get up, but can’t. She’s been walking for days now, it feels like, only sporadically drinking and almost never eating.  There just isn’t enough energy left in her to stand.

She tries to think about little Alex again, running around in his Batman cape, hoping some kind of love or maternal instinct will kick in and give her the last burst of adrenaline she needs to get up. It doesn’t work. Maybe she doesn’t love her own son anymore, really. Maybe it’s just been fear and guilt driving her this far, and that source has already been wrung dry. 

She manages to crawl a few feet, before she can’t even do that. With nothing else left to do, she starts to cry out. “Help! Water, please!” 

She doesn’t think anyone will hear, or show up. But against all odds, in her dimming vision she sees a figure come into view. Backpacked, clutching a water bottle. 

“Help,” she croaks out again. 

The figure gets closer, and she starts to be able to make out the details of his face. He’s her age, or older, with worry lines carved into his forehead and wide eyes. His nose looks eerily like her brother’s nose, and the shape of his jaw reminds her of her old boyfriend, the one who left her with--

She blinks. Maybe she’s hallucinating, or maybe she’s somehow run into a long lost cousin. But then, the man’s eye’s widen and his mouth opens.

“Mum?”

No, no it can’t…

“A-alex?”

No, Alex was a little round cheeked boy. This is a thirty year old man, at least, taller than her. It hasn’t been that long. It can’t be, it’s not--

“Mum?” He’s doing a frown that looks so, so familiar. This has to be a dream. “Mum, it’s--no.”

He sniffles. He steps forward, and steps back. He paces, uncertain.

“No, no,” she hears him mutter. “It’s all fake, all fake. It’s a trap. That’s what they want, the monsters and the face stealers. No one is real. Don’t give them what they want--’’

“Please.” she begs. 

But she hears him walk away, sniffling, and shortly thereafter everything goes dark. 

---

I have a confession to make, Melanie. I was going to side with Jon, back then. I could have lived with keeping everyone here suffering to prevent more of it. But when he said he was going to kill the whole world, not just leave it--that’s what made me snap. 

I couldn’t let the whole world die. Genocide of the entire human species? Anything but that. Surely passing along the suffering would be better, as long as it didn’t lead to the extinction of whole worlds. But… 

I keep finding more dead bodies.

I went back to that suburb I talked about, to restock on all my food. It was a lonely domain before, I think. I’d thought everyone there would be fine, you know. They didn’t have any deadly sicknesses, or twisted flesh injuries. They had food and water and shelter. But when I went back… more of them had died. 

Lots of suicides. Some of them snapped, and started to self injure.

The German guy I talked to had started to starve. He had a pantry full of food and he just wouldn’t eat it. I tried to get him to eat, to move in with someone else, but he said talking to people “made him sick.” 

I gave up, and left. I had to. There were too many people, and too much to do, so I left him. He’s probably dead now, or going to die soon. Because he can’t find the will to live, and I don’t know how to help someone with that.

The Lonely is probably one of the least directly harmful entities, right? This domain was just a suburb, probably the most comfortable you could get during the apocalypse. And yet the victims are still all dying. 

How much worse is it in places without food and water? In the corruption domains that still probably have deadly diseases spreading? In war zones, in flesh factories?

I think about that nursing home we found. All of the patients who'd died of heart attacks a few minutes after they'd woken up. The ones left alive screaming for help where no one could hear them, for days after the fact. All of the ones that died in their beds before we found them. 

I think about that field of bodies I found the other day. I think about the ruins of that Circus I found, people refusing to talk to me or each other--refusing to help because they didn’t believe it was over and thought everyone else was a mannequin. 

I think… I think it doesn’t matter that we saved the world. If people can’t find the will to live, ro rebuild, to trust and help each other again… I think we’re going through a mass extinction event anyway. 

---

Sarah’s in a car, she thinks. Not a moving one. She’s propped up against a seat,There’s something plastic pressed to her lips.

“Come on,” says a woman’s deep, level voice. “Come on. I got you. We’re getting to London. All you have to do is drink.”

Sarah opens her eyes. She sees a dark-skinned woman trying to coax her to drink, holding up a water bottle. 

“Just a sip,” the woman says. “Just enough to make it.”

Sarah closes her eyes, and takes a long moment to consider whether she wants to.