#good omens was the thing that finally broke me out of it. but it’s probably just dormant yk

[sentientsky]

sorry this is all i can think of when i click the boop button

[demonmarker]

Beautiful with you

Regina x Reader (Masc. Lesbian)

Chapter 1

Regina George. The Queen B of North Shore High, known for her dominance and the fact that anything she does is always for her self-gain, and you have absolutely nothing to do with her. Never had, never will, so you thought.

Like any other day you sat by yourself in the cafeteria at lunch, drawing in your sketchbook like you always did with your Doc Martin feet kicked up on the table, earbuds in with Bad Omens playing in your ear as you work on your latest idea for a new tattoo on the back of your neck when at the corner of your eye you see movement and… pink? You glance in the direction of the movement and see none other than THE Regina George clicking her fingers at you to get your attention. You had a small hallway crush on Regina. But who doesn't? You even have a realism drawing of her in your sketchbook, but you didn’t bother drooling over her or even bother trying to talk to her. You tried doing the whole friends thing when you were a kid and you were always left crying and humiliated, so it was a loner life for you and your sketchbook was the only friend you needed. Curiosity getting the best of you, you pulled out one of your ear buds showing she got your attention, “Regina” your voice low and husky since you never really talked much at school. “Oh my god finally,” your eyes narrow, not impressed by her opening line. “Come sit with us”, waving a beaconing hand. You lift one of your eyebrows up in suspicion, “Me? The tattooed lesbian loner freak? Sitting at the Plastics table? With the most popular and beautiful girls in the whole school? Yeah, I can see a red flag when I see it so… I’m going to pass.” Regina stuck her chest out proudly with a matching smile, “You think I’m beautiful?” You rolled your eyes and put your earbud back in your ear signalling that that was the end of their conversation. At the corner of your eye you see Regina get out of her seat and walk off, guessing you did the trick, no way was she really wanting to hang with you, like every other time it would probably have ended in a cruel prank that everyone but you found hilarious. Without warning your sketchbook was ripped out of your hands by the familiar blond using your book to swat your feet off the table, sitting where they once were. “Hey! What the fuck?!” Regina just held up her hand to silence you, and it. Fucking. Worked. The abruptness took you off guard. Queen B started flipping through your drawings, your cheeks going red knowing that the drawing you did of her is in there. “Hey, that’s private!” you tried snatching your art diary back but she was quicker, moving it out of your reach. “I don’t know why, these are surprisingly good. I was expecting stick figures at best, look you even coloured inside the lines.” Ignoring the insult your leg starts anxiously bobbing up and down rapidly from the anticipation of her discovering the drawing of herself, in that moment you’d rather defuse a bomb. Flicking another page Regina stopped in her tracks, her eyes widening and her mouth agape. The feeling of being so helpless to stop the inevitable made your anger rise, flashbacks of people laughing and humiliating you start running through your head. It wasn’t fair! This keeps happening again and again. Your anger gets the better of you and you abruptly get up from the table and storm off.

Getting to your locker, you attempt to enter the code into the lock but of course in you fit of rage you missed a number and that was the straw that broke the camel’s back as you smash your fist into the metal door “Fuck!”, removing your bloody fist from the now red dent in the locker door, you pinch the bridge of your nose as you feel a migraine coming on. “My god, you are such a drama queen!” the familiar voice of the cause of your anger exclaimed from behind. Your head snaps to see the blond beauty again, her eyes go to the bloody fist print you dented into your locker “Got it all out?” her eyebrows raised, seeing the blood, her eyes darted to your bloody knuckles hanging by your side. She gave an exaggerated sigh and grabbed you by the sleeve of your dark red leather jacket, “Come with me”, not like you had an option.

Pulling you out to the car park and to her red jeep she opened the passenger door and then the glove box grabbing a small first aid kit out, she held her hand out for your injured one and all you could do was watch in stunned silence as this woman–who everyone saw as the Queen Bitch herself–delicately cleaned and bandaged your injury. She glanced up at your confused expression “Stop looking at me like that you dork.” Being called out made your cheeks go red, instantly reacting you let out a “Sorry” like you got caught with your hand in the cookie jar. “Wait, why am I apologizing? You started this, give me back my sketchbook!” tying the bandage’s knot she raised her hands defensively. “Hey, I didn’t tell you to chuck a hissy fit and punch your locker now did I dummy? Say please and I’ll give you the sketchbook,” she grinned. Your eyebrows scrunched “No!” you snapped back. Lifting an eyebrow with a mischievous grin, she took a step closer to you while pulling your face down to hers, your faces barely inches apart, “Say. Please.” Your cheeks went beat red, being so close to the beautiful goddess you could smell her perfume and feel her breath on your face, all making you want to give into her, the want to obey your submissive side was almost overwhelming, “P-please”. Her grin grew, her hand still holding your collar pulled you the rest of the way to her lips. Those lips. Those soft, plump, intoxicating lips. You completely lose yourself, never wanting the kiss to end. She wraps her arm around your neck, her hand gently caressing the back of your head under your tied up black hair where your undercut is shaved almost to the skin. When you let a moan escape your throat you feel her something flat being pushed against your chest which you instinctively grab blindly. Pulling back, Regina ended the kiss by pulling on your lower lip with her teeth which you automatically moaned to. She put her forehead against yours reaching up she wipes her lipstick from your lips, softly whispering to your lips “Good girl”.

When you come down from cloud nine you see her already walking back to the main school building, Fuck, what just happened? You look down to the object in your hands and find your sketchbook with one page dog eared. You turn to the marked page which was the drawing of Regina, a message written in the open space of the page “You're kinda hot, come to my place after school today. Meet me by my car.” You couldn’t stop your heart from racing, Regina George just kissed you! And she wants to meet up with you again! The rational side of your brain kicked in and made you question if this was all some sort of trick, telling you to keep your walls up, scenarios like this don’t happen to loners like you. It’s not like you could hang out after school anyway.

Trying to get through all the scattering people at the end of school was always a nightmare but you manage to make your way to Regina’s jeep, the blond standing against the bright red car in waiting. Seeing you approach she straightens up “Hey Loser, you ready to go?” you roll your eyes at the nickname. “I’m sorry I can’t today.” She crosses her arms and raises an eyebrow. “Oh? And why not?” “I-“ you start but you hesitate, you look off into the distance as you argue with yourself whether to tell her the truth and let her in, no one knows what really goes on in your life and you liked that way it kept everyone safe. Or should you just brush it off and leave it at that? You release a sigh, “Would you be up to letting me show you?” Regina narrowed her eyes wondering if she should trust you or not “You’re not going to take me to some creepy warehouse and murder me are you? The pretty blond always dies first and you got the whole broody, loner killer vibe going on” she gestured to your whole person. You roll your eyes “Do you want to or not?” Chucking her hands up in defeat “Argh fine”, she walked to the passenger side of her car as you got in the drivers. Once comfortable you get a confused look on your face as you look at the dash, Regina looking at you with her own look of confusion, “Remind me again which one is the brake and which one is the accelerator”

The look of disbelief she gave you was priceless, “You can’t be serious” You cackle from her reaction, “I’m joking” you continue to laugh as she slaps your arm, already feeling at ease around her. “Don’t worry I’ve got my full license, your baby is safe with me.” “She fucking better be” she mumbled.

Ch.02 Ch.03

[hkblack]

Let me tell you a story...

It starts in the summer of 2021. Honestly it probably starts a little before that. 2020 through 2022 ish are a bit hazy because there was a lot of sitting around at home doing nothing.

Somewhere in that haziness my partner goes “wait, you haven’t watched this Good Omens show yet? And you haven’t read the book? … oh no. You should do that.”

And immediately after finishing the show I knew I was in trouble. I knew if I read the book I would absolutely fall down the fandom rabbit hole and be trapped, and so for a very long while, I didn’t. Until I did.

And then in August 2021, I wandered into fandom. I had been lurking. Seeing what AO3 had to offer. Crawling back onto Tumblr. But I had a story idea, and I needed a beta reader. And the last time I was in fandom, LiveJournal was still a thing, so I didn’t know where to go.

I found out about Discord, and I signed up for a thousand servers, it felt like, and in one server I bravely started sticking my neck out.

There was talk about someone writing a Human AU on a farm, and farm animals in general, and I chimed in about goat-scaping. And then I made the joke that would seal my fate.

“I don’t know if I could write a kid fic, but you know. I could write a kid (goat) fic.”

It was meant to be a short, sweet, meet-cute. Professor Aziraphale has a goat from the goat scaping team break into his office. Based loosely on a campus experience where a member of the goat-scaping team at a campus I was on tried (and failed) to get into a classroom once.

A simple formula. Maybe a 4+1? 4 times a goat broke into Professor Aziraphale Fell’s office, and one time it didn’t.

I even found the first beta reading request. First chapter done, I’ve got four more planned. Rated T.

Ha.

I started writing Chapter 5, you know, the final chapter, and realized—there’s more to this story. These characters have life, and story, and who doesn’t want to see more goats? Also, had I truly fulfilled the “kid-fic” portion of my joke?

I think we can all agree that no, no I hadn’t.

So, I kept writing. But I also found my stride in other Discord Servers and in Fandom in general. And in the winter of 2021, I went on a beta-reading blitz for the Gift Exchange happening in the Do It With Style Events Discord server. I read something like 14? 15? stories in a very short amount of time and in doing so, got to know some really amazing people and began to carve out my spot in the community.

From this server I found folks with lived goat-experience who were willing to share and advise me. From this server I found beta readers and brit pickers willing to cheer me on and guide my writing to the best version it could be. I found friends and joy and I found community.

And if you look very carefully through the pages of Bleating Hearts, I think that at its heart, past the puns, past the obvious fast burn love story, and the crooked Luce Matin and demanding James Starr, and even beyond the goats, it’s a story about finding your place in a community. While we talk about Aziraphale and Crowley and their relationship, so many people have asked me about Anathema and Crowley at the chicken coop (we only got to see Newt and Aziraphale in the bedroom). The most commented on scene is Anathema pulling the car over and getting Aziraphale’s consent to go to Tracy’s for lunch.

It's a story with goats, romance, and drama. But it’s a story about community.

I have thanked the people most involved a thousand times over, and I will always take an excuse to thank them again. @ambrasue, my ride or die beta reader. She is who to thank for the sentences making sense. And for me not beating you all over the head with the word “Gently.” HolRose, for the Brit-Picking and second pair of eyes when Ambra and I had gone cross-eyed, and always, always, always having a kind comment ready to go for every chapter update. @writingordinaryrealities, for all things Goats, and for not laughing at me when we met in person and I lost my cool over real life goats.

@mirjam-writes! Mirjam made me my first ever fanart for one of my fanfics! And so many more of you have followed suit and I never know what to say when I see it but I always make a noise and run excitedly to my partner and flap my hands and show him his heart and he always gets the dumbest smile and goes, “I love when people make you goat fanart. You are adorable when you’re verklempt.”

But also, the DIWS and Good Omens community. Every single person who shouted at one of my snippets when I needed a boost and shared a bit of what I was proud of. Every single person who tagged me in a goat video—you all have tagged me in so many goat videos. I watch each and every one of them. Every single person who got excited when I said I was finally ready to start posting.

Because you see, that support, that community, led me to pay it forward. At TIC4 in 2023, I had just finished my panel on beta reading and was feeling a bit amped up. I saw in the chat that someone wanted to talk Slow Show and Human Aus and, I don’t know if y’all know this, but uh, I’m a big fan of human AUs. And so I hopped into the break out room and met J.

J is a lovely human who has been fandoming since the OG Star Trek days with Kirk and Spock. She had found a physical copy of Slow Show and just needed to talk to someone, anyone about it. She wasn’t sure what the Archive was, she was still learning her way around digital fandom, and I instantly wanted to reach out and help her find community and joy the way I had when I got started in the fandom. So, I sat down and I gave her my favorites. I told her how to find me on socials. We connected on Discord. We sent each other long letters back and forth on Discord sharing our joys and frustrations and our love of GO and talking about all sorts of other things. And it has been amazing listening to her stories and getting to know her.

Unbeknownst to me, J had reached out to @brunheiffer to ask for a physical copy of Bleating Hearts. Now—I’m all for fandom in the physical space, but it’s never even crossed my mind to do more than something printed out at my home printer, hastily hole punched, and shoved into a binder so I could sneak fanfiction reading time during 5th period math class after I was done with my worksheets many, many, many moons ago. When brunheiffer reached out and asked if they could print and bind a copy for me—I didn’t know what to say. Or do. Or think. I think I keysmashed? I keysmashed after I made my partner read the message out loud. And then I went and looked through tumblr and all of brunheiffer’s excellent work. And then I went, “Do I say yes?” and he went “um YES OF COURSE YOU SAY YES. WHAT”

So, I said yes.

I also said yes to progress shots and got to watch some of the coolest work ever. I didn’t know how books…ya know…booked. Witchcraft probably? I’m still convinced there is witchcraft involved, but there is also an incredible amount of skill, and time, and patience, and hard work, and love that is put into making a book a book. And learning what I did, and watching the process, and seeing the care that brunheiffer put into each of the three (THREE!) sets of books that were made (one for me, one for brunheiffer, one for J), was just stunning.

Do you know, J reached out to me and apologized for not asking me first and asked me if it was okay that she had reached out and asked if brunheiffer would do this for her? Why would I ever be against something so heartfelt and kind?

I cried.

I legitimately sat in my office and cried.

When people ask me how I write the way I do, or why I write, or anything along those lines. I have the same answer. “I write for myself.”

Oh sure, I started to write Bleating Hearts to make Ambra laugh and/or have feelings, but at the end of the day, when I write, it is because I need to get the bed time stories I tell myself at night, the day dreams while sitting on the bus, out of my head and somewhere else—so that a new movie can play. And when I write, I write knowing that I will come back to that story. That I will forget the little pieces (because I have a pretty shit memory tbh), and I’ll be able to go back, and wrap myself up in the comfort of the story I have written, and be surprised by some of the little details I left as presents for myself. And be excited. And be happy. And watch my favorite movie again.

So every time I see someone make art of this story, or talk about how they love the story, or how happy it made them, or the feelings it inspired, or how reading goats made them want to write their own fanfiction—I get, well, like my partner says, “verklempt.” I don’t know what to do with that feeling, other than to just be overwhelmed that somehow something I made to entertain me has brought other people so much joy. Has helped people connect and find community.

What a powerful and beautiful thing that is.

Not everything I write is going to be Bleati—y'all I am just going to call it Goats. Calling it Bleating Hearts feels so weird. It’s Goats. That’s the name of the story. That’s my name for the story.

Anyway.

Not everything is going to be Goats. I’ve got some wips in the hopper right now that are um…lots of angst and heavy spice. Not everything I write is going to be liked by everyone. Some of it may even offend you.

But knowing that this one thing has inspired you all to the point that I’ve been gifted the ability to hold my story in my hand?

That’s powerful.

And it only exists because this community, this Good Omens community, has come together and chosen joy.

There’s some bad apples out there, there are in every bunch. But I am liberal with my block button and have been blessed to find a welcoming and warm community that creates some amazing and incredible art—whether that’s like actual like digital or pen to paper art, or the fiction you write, or the podfics you record, or the meta analysis you write, or the playlists or the animatics or the beta reading or the shouting unhinged support or the role playing or the plushies, or the books you bind—this community is full of incredibly creative and amazing people.

So thanks, y’all, for letting me part of your community, and enjoying my silly little goat fic. And thank you brunheiffer and J for this amazing gift.

If you haven’t read it, or just want to reread it, you can read Bleating Hearts (GOATS) on Archive of Our Own.

All my love,

HK

(I am the most cringe sap on main right now. No regurts)

[ghostofchaos-past]

okay, I'm finally posting my good omens fic masterlist. then I'm going to bed i promise

this list will probably be added onto as i discover more fics, but here is what i have so far

also keep in mind i have no clue if I'm doing this right

- Since Eden (Till Armageddon) by ikarakie

the british museum needs to take their nose out of crowley's damn business. OR, a 200 year old journal full of crowley's pining and confessions ends up on display.

literally the first good omens fanfic i ever read, and it is heartbreaking and fluffy and amazing and so well worded oh my god nothing but praise for this thing

- Against the Bitter Cold by EdosianOrchids901

A pointless temptation assignment leaves Crowley stranded in the middle of a snowstorm. By the time he stumbles back to the inn, he’s so cold and disoriented that he can’t even remember why he was outside. Aziraphale is ready to lend a helping hand.

pre any relationship, sick hurt/comfort, absolutely beautiful and adorable

- love is not a sin by planetunderseige

Heaven gives him the ultimatum. Never see Crowley again, or get cast away. The choice is easy. Aziraphale falls.

ohmygod so heartbreaking, short and sad and beautifully written.

- Falling Slowly by ShesAKillerQueen98

Three months of peace after the failed apocalypse ends in tragedy as Heaven finds a new way to punish Aziraphale, one that's much more permanent. Will he and Crowley be able to pick up the pieces?

the description undersells it. normally when i say a fic broke me, I'm exaggerating. I'M NOT FUCKING EXAGGERATING THIS TIME. this is my all time favorite fic, pure angst and sadness with a slight bit of fluff at the end, absolutely beautiful and it left me sobbing. wahoo <3

- get religion quick (cause you're looking divine) by brinnanza

So it was fine. Even if Crowley couldn’t love him, he clearly liked him well enough, and that was almost the same thing. It no doubt would have continued to be fine, or at least fine-adjacent, were it not for a narrowly averted apocalypse and several bottles of a really quite nice Riesling Aziraphale had found in the back room of his newly restored bookshop.

oh poor oblivious aziraphale. i love this fic so much, the most plausible, in my opinion, to how their love confession probably would go.

- Don't Be Afraid Of The Dark yet again by EdosianOrchid901

Aziraphale is attacked by a group of humans who want to control his powers. He’s incapacitated by magic and unable to defend himself, totally helpless. But something dark and powerful bursts out of the shadows to rescue him.

angry crowley. scared crowley. its what i live for. cw for violence in this one obvs, but wow its sweet

- darling, let me hold you by @goomens

There’s no use thinking about it, ruminating over it. The bitter disappointment and crippling shame of it all. Crowley sniffs harshly, blinking the wet from his eyes and takes a deep, shaking inhale. He slowly steers the Bentley away from the pavement and drives. He doesn’t know where he’s going, but it hardly matters now.

a band-aid in these trying times. post the end of season two.

[bowtiepastabitch]

It's struck me today how wild the timescale of this fandom is

(cw for mentions of religious and queer trauma, covid)

Unlike fandoms that get new content (books, tv seasons, etc) on a regular basis, the Good Omens fandom has been essentially self-supporting for decades. I arrived incredibly late to the party, but I've felt more accepted here than anywhere in my life. But looking back at my life really puts in perspective how much fucking time has passed.

The novel was published in 1990. I was not even alive then.

The first season of the show came out in 2019. In 2019 I was deeply closeted at home, somewhat out at school, and had never met a trans person or a queer adult. My access to media was strictly controlled and I didn't really have internet access. I was still fairly religious, but I was experiencing severe untreated mental health issues that I had been raised to believe were my fault for lack of faith.

The lockdown episode of course took place in 2020. I was forced out of the closet by my mother, who had read my texts and, finding nothing, my emails. This was days before I found out I would not be seeing my friends again or even leaving the house for months. I spent several weeks worth of free time in the early days of Covid writing a massive research paper on biblical christianity and queerness, desperate to convince my parents that the bible never said I couldn't be a lesbian. Their rejection of this was the beginning of the end for my faith.

The second season was announced in 2021. I graduated high school and took a gap year for a voluntary residential hospitalization to get my mental health in a safe place so I could go to college. I finally began properly deconstructing my faith but struggled a lot to figure out where that put me. I briefly considered just converting to a different branch of Christianity that was less controlling. I got engaged to my highschool sweetheart.

In 2022 I started college and started to explore gender, made new friends, started catching up on all the queer media I'd missed when I lived with my parents. Officially decided I never wanted to step foot in a church again and then shoved the rest of my religious trauma deep down where I wouldn't have to think about it.

The second season was released the summer of 2023, last year. I waited until I was alone at the house and binged the first season on my mom's prime account. She was around a bit while I watched the second but mercifully didn't have anything too rude to say. I was shockingly, almost neurotypically normal about the show at first.

September of 2023 I broke up with my fiance and started spending more time on tumblr again. Good Omens quickly became my comfort show. In October I started writing creatively again for the first time in nearly five years (long story, loads of trauma), fanfiction obviously. Brainrot set in very quickly.

When season 3 comes out, I will be probably be nearly finished with undergrad. If it takes a long time I might even be totally finished. That's kind of terrifying, but also amazing. 2019 me could have never even imagined such a thing.

Time has always been a strange, gooey thing for me, but looking at how much has changed in a time period that doesn't seem that long numerically is particularly trippy. And that makes me weirdly sentimental. It's crazy to me to be accepted in the kind of space that younger me would have dreamed of, and I look forward to spending the next few years getting excited over this with y'all.

[vexic929]

I Have You Now, My Pretty, Hair Matted With Blood, Needles, Superpower Overload, Villain Reveals the Secret, and Exposure

"I have you now, my pretty" from Bad Things Happen Bingo info on Alex and Mihael here and here

This was the worst thing that had ever happened to Alex, he was confident in that. One of his enemies had found out his identity, that was the first problem, but before he could do anything about it he'd been knocked out and now he'd woken up cuffed to a chair back-to-back with another person. Alex could smell Mihael's conditioner and cologne and he turned his head, trying desperately to see if he was alright. Mihael was blindfolded, thank god, and seemed to still be unconscious but the IV drip in his arm was a foreboding omen. Alex had to get them out of here before Mihael woke up and learned anything he shouldn't or, worse, before whoever had kidnapped them could come back.

Alex struggled, testing the cuffs around his wrists and ankles. He could probably get his hands free if he broke his thumbs and he was willing to do that without hesitation but he couldn't go anywhere if his ankles were still bound. Before he could make a decision, the door opened and a masked woman entered, wheeling a cart of tools and coming to a stop beside the chairs. Mihael stirred weakly.

"Hello, Agent. I'm certain you know why you're here." She said softly, her voice distorted but with a hint of malice that sent a chill straight to his bones.

"I know why I'm here, why is he here?" Alex demanded, trying to keep his voice from shaking.

"Don't play coy. We know your agency trains you well. You'd never talk if we tortured you, it would be a waste of time, you're far too resilient. The same can't be said for your fiancé, now can it? How long do you think he'll last?"

A soft sound left Mihael's throat before he finally woke. Alex wished he hadn't.

"Don't you dare touch him!" Alex snarled, wishing he could reach back and offer Mihael some comfort.

"Alex...?" Mihael murmured groggily. The woman wheeled the cart into Alex's line of sight and began perusing the tools to decide what to use first. Alex felt vaguely sick.

"We'll start with an easy question, Agent: the name of your supervisor."

Alex's stomach dropped. Even if he wanted to, he couldn't answer that - he didn't know. He'd never even met the man properly.

"Let him go and I'll tell you everything you want to know. He doesn't deserve this." Alex pleaded. The woman tsked and selected a syringe filled with a fluorescent orange chemical, pushing it into Mihael's IV unceremoniously. Mihael jerked as though he'd been shocked and made a horrific choking noise.

"Don't worry, Agent, he'll start breathing again eventually, the paralytic only lasts a few minutes. Let's try again. The name, Agent."

Alex hated himself. He'd caused this; he was the reason Mihael was suffering and would likely continue to suffer until they could be rescued. He had to think of something. A lie. He could lie. But if she caught him in it would she kill Mihael? He had to try or the torture itself would.

"Thomas Peterson. The name he told me is Thomas Peterson." Alex said shakily.

The woman nodded. "Good. My people will do their due diligence to make certain you aren't lying. In the meantime, we'll move on to the next question. August 22nd: you retrieved files from our mainframe. I'd like to know what you did with them."

"I handed them off to my superior, I don't know what he did with them after." Alex lied again, glancing at Mihael from the corner of his eye. His breathing seemed to be back to normal but his chest hitched occasionally, as though he was suppressing sobs. Alex wished he could see his face. He wished he could tell him everything would be okay.

"On August 30th you returned to our facility. Why?" She continued, selecting a metal ring big enough to fit around Mihael's neck from the cart. Alex felt a chill of dread.

"My supervisor wasn't satisfied with the files I'd retrieved. He wanted more information." Alex said quickly, feeling suddenly breathless.

"He told you to return or you did so of your own volition?" The woman asked.

"My own volition." Alex replied.

"And what did you retrieve that time?" She asked.

Alex bit his tongue, heart racing. He couldn't tell her that; it was the only thing the agency had against them right now. The woman disappeared from his line of sight and he heard a metal click as the ring was fastened around Mihael's neck.

"Perhaps hearing your beloved scream will loosen your tongue, hm?" She said, her voice deceptively gentle.

"No-" Alex began to protest but he was cut off by the cheerful tone that left the ring followed by Mihael's pained cry.

"You did this to him, Agent, I want you to remember that."

Alex felt Mihael's back arc so far he was surprised he hadn't torn straight through the leather restraints - as it was, he'd probably broken a rib or two from the strap around his lower chest. The occasional small jolt of electricity shot from the back of the collar to give Alex the faintest idea of the sort of agony Mihael was being put through.

"If you don't want this to continue, you'll tell me what I need to know," the woman said calmly. "Otherwise I could keep going until his heart stops."

"The blueprints of your facility." Alex blurted in a panic. "I stole the blueprints so we could make a plan to infiltrate."

The woman turned the collar off and the room fell silent again save for Mihael's desperate, pained sobs.

"Last question for the time being, Agent: who is the mole you have planted in our ranks?"

Alex's ears were ringing in panic, he had to do something. The room seemed to get hotter and smaller; if their mole was identified and killed all the work they had done would be for nothing. All of it. And if he lied now he'd be caught in it immediately.

"I don't know." Alex said softly.

The woman hummed. "It seems you need a bit more incentive, Agent." She approached the table again, this time selecting a sickly green chemical. The moment it was pushed into the IV, Mihael let out a moan of pain and Alex felt him begin to shake. "You have one hour until his body shuts down one organ at a time. It's a slow and agonizing death, I'd suggest you tell me what I want to know unless you want his last moments to be pure suffering."

"I told you, I don't know!" Alex shouted desperately. "Please, I don't know the answer! I've never even seen him! You have to believe me!"

"I don't. The name, Agent, or Mr. Ireton will suffer. I suggest you don't make me think of any more punishments." The woman said before Mihael moaned again, his skin pale and clammy.

"Please! I don't know!" Alex begged, yanking hard against the restraints until his left thumb gave a sickening crack that sent pain all the way up his arm. He couldn't focus on that, he had to save Mihael.

"I hear your fiancé has an interesting medical history, Agent. Do you think it's weakened his heart? His bones? His arm is very thin, I could probably snap it with my bare hands." She commented, freeing one of Mihael's arms. Mihael weakly tried to pull it away with a soft, barely audible protest. Alex scrambled, searched his mind for anything he could use to save them both.

"Please-"

The woman delivered a sudden strike to Mihael's forearm that snapped the bones cleanly in two. Alex could barely hear the sudden, new sounds of a scuffle outside the door over Mihael's scream. The door slammed open moments later and a shot rang out, slamming through the woman's leg and sending her falling to the ground next to Mihael's chair as agents swarmed the room.

"J-57 are you injured?" Someone called out, a gun still trained on the downed woman.

Alex took an unsteady breath, his heart pounding. He could feel all of the adrenaline and terror in his veins as his mind raced in a million directions.

"I'm fine. Where's the antidote? He needs the antidote." He said, turning to finally get a good look at Mihael the moment he was freed. The blindfold was askew revealing his half-lidded and glassy eyes - he didn't appear to be aware of the scene around him any longer.

"We'll get it to him as soon as we know what he was dosed with, Agent. Let's get them both to the agency, they need emergency medical attention." One of the agents he wasn't familiar with instructed as he cuffed the woman and hauled her out the door.

Alex took another deep, shuddering breath as he scooped up Mihael's unresisting body in his arms. Mihael's head lolled onto his shoulder and Alex held him a little tighter, trying to offer him comfort. Then, the moment was gone as the medical team took him from his arms and rushed him out of the building. Alex felt numb as another medic set and wrapped his broken thumb before escorting him out for debriefing. He wasn't allowed to see Mihael for hours and every second sent anxiety coursing through his veins.

"57? We're about to give him the memory serum, do you want to speak to him first?" A medic asked, peering into the room where he was waiting.

"What are you telling him happened when he wakes up again?" Alex asked, his voice eerily calm despite the turmoil in his head.

"We're telling him he was in a car accident." She said as he stood to follow her. "We're also going to increase the dosage a bit to simulate head trauma. He should maintain his long-term memories but any short-term memories from the past week will be gone permanently. He also may not be able to form short-term memories for the next week or two."

"That feels excessive." Alex said, his voice flat despite how it felt like his heart was shattering into a million tiny pieces.

"It's necessary, the only way to get him away from all of this and safely back home with no chance of this memory returning." The medic pointed out before stepping aside for him to enter.

Mihael was clearly doped up on pain medication when Alex walked in but awake and talking with the nurse setting up his IV.

"Alex- oops, not Alex. Agent...something, right?" Mihael questioned, his eyes half lidded.

Alex couldn't help the sad smile that crossed his lips at the sight of him. He looked so peaceful and innocent - it made Alex nervous to think of how easily he could have lost him forever.

"It's okay, Baby, they know my real name here. How are you feeling?" Alex asked, taking Mihael's hand and squeezing it gently.

"I can't feel anything, I think." Mihael mused. "Am I dead? Did that...whatever they were...did they kill me?"

Alex swallowed hard past the sudden lump in his throat as he felt his heart break a little bit.

"No, Baby." He said softly, pressing a kiss to Mihael's forehead. "You're alive and safe. You're going to get some rest now and when you wake up, you won't remember any of that pain."

"What? No, I don't want you to have to keep secrets from me-" Mihael protested but the nurse was already pushing the light blue serum into his IV and his eyelids fluttered as he fought sleep. "Alex, please-"

"Shhh..." Alex soothed, brushing Mihael's hair back. "It's okay, Baby. Everything will be okay when you wake up."

"Alex..." Mihael protested, looking hurt, and the guilt felt like a punch to Alex's stomach.

"I promise this will be better." And even if it wasn't, it didn't matter. The agency would never let Mihael live with the knowledge and the drug was coursing through his veins. His memories were probably already becoming hazy. "I love you."

Mihael's gaze softened. "I love you too." He said, before his eyes finally closed in sleep.

[metaphysicpareidolic]

OPINION TIME because i need to know i'm not the only one who feels this way:

i'm gonna be perfectly honest and many of you might hate me for this but. i. did not like good omens season 2. so if you don't want to read, i'll just write my essay under the break dlsjfdh

OKAY.

i mean i understand why people like it, the two (mostly) male-presenting characters that everyone has been smashing together like barbie dolls for decades finally get a canon kiss, great. yeah, as a trans gay guy, i can't deny that i love seeing any kind of queer representation, especially from such a popular show, from such an influential author. but this? did not. feel good to watch. and it's not just because of the soul-destroying cliffhanger ending.

i lived and breathed good omens when the show first came out, it was one of the most intense hyperfixations of my life, i was completely obsessed with it and i recommended it to everyone i knew, both the show and the book. it's the entire reason i got tumblr in the first place and the first fandom i actually participated in. quite a good portion of my waking thoughts were consumed by the ineffable husbands and all the other characters. i was a young teenager at the time and this story shaped my view of the world for over a year, and i will always love it. but even then, i hoped to god (ha) that they wouldn't make a second season. but inevitably, they did.

i went into the first episode hoping i was wrong, and i finished it just feeling disappointed. i kept watching and got through the whole thing, hoping it would get better as the season went on, but it just got worse and worse. granted, i did enjoy the little historical throwbacks (i think the entire second season should have just been aziraphale and crowley through the centuries with michael and david improvising the whole thing like that one post) but the actual plot was bland, the characters had lost all their depth, and on top of that the budget was obviously cut by a lot so the rich visuals that were so captivating in the first season were gone, as well. that and issues with sound, which probably were more noticeable cause i was wearing headphones, but this is one of the most popular and profitable shows on a leading streaming service owned by one of the biggest fucking companies in the world. shouldn't they be putting money into it?

i'm not upset that beelzebub was recast. i'm upset that their entire character and personality was forgotten in favour of a romantic side plot, which exists, why? again?? to somehow emphasize a point already made by the other rushed romantic side plot?? that has barely anything to do with the actual story other than being accidentally dragged into it by aziraphale, whose entire character development from the first season has been entirely pushed aside because we need a third season, because we want more money! hehe they are kissing, gay people kissing ooh look, give us your money and attention so you can see them kiss consensually this time! i could continue but i will spare you the entirety of my spiel because i could write. PAGES. about how much this season hurt my soul not because Oh No They Broke Up but because i believed in this world and i believed in these characters and i don't like seeing them like this, wrung out and milked for cash and fanservice. everything that made the first season good is dampened by the knowledge that i now have to consider this fucking thing canon, that this is what the story turns into.

neil gaiman i love you but for the love of god get off of tumblr. he just wrote a fucking fanfiction of his and terry pratchett's work because he knew he would get money from it. and we are eating it up, because we love the story, we love the characters, and we love the author and we always want more. if you want more, draw fanart. write fanfiction. create your own version of a story. please, don't give your money to a company just because it's Officially Legit Canon when you could create a much better, more compelling, and more satisfying ending for yourself, for free. i lied earlier, i don't understand the appeal of this season. i don't understand why people like it. it feels fake. it feels wrong. it feels like an entirely different universe than the first season, and the book, and that wouldn't necessarily even be a bad thing if it was at least done with some level of concern for quality and consistency.

i know not everyone wants to be critical of their favourite show and would prefer to just enjoy it for what it is. i understand that, at least. i don't want to ruin anyone's fun. if you enjoyed this season, good. i'm glad you did and i love seeing all the fanart and fanfictions happening everywhere. i just really wanted to talk about this and maybe spark a little discussion if anyone's interested. anyways if you read all of this, thank you.

tl;dr: i hate capitalism, i hate streaming services

[phen-akism]

Get to Know Me ask meme! Kindly tagged by @hayleysayshay

Favourite colour: i really love forest greens

Currently reading: I’m currently reading “the mad house at the end of the earth”! It’s a dramatised telling of the belgicas expedition to the North Pole. I really love reading in the summer when I can

Last Series: I concurrently watch/ play lord of things. I just finished the xenoblade 3 DLC (I adored it) and good omens (very fun) and La by night season 5 (broke my heart in a good way)

Last Movie: well me and my friends ended up forgetting to bring anything to watch movies online on while on holiday out in the boonies so my most recent movie was “zootropilis” which we watched on a scratched to shit dvd that we found in our rented accommodation

Last song: a cover of “oak and ash and thorn” by “eat bake sing”

Sweet, Savoury or Spicy?: probably savoury, but I love sweets. I’m an absolute wuss with spice

Currently working on: a number of personal projects! Namely at the moment the outline for “north” which is a story about the spirit north and a kelpie to take revenge on the hunter that hunted them and bring under control norths herd of sacred deer that the hunter set stampeding across the land.

Also finally writing down my VTM v5 setting based on the Hebrides of scotland

Tagging: no pressure to do it but @sidera-resonat @commiemartyrshighschool @lowtideandhightea @well-fuck-me-son

[violet-prism-creatively]

good omens s2 episode reactions: 6

i just finished good omens season 2.

you know how people say "screaming crying throwing up" jokingly? i'm literally at least one of those (screamed into a pillow) and kinda close to another (partly unrelated life reasons making me feel like crying but it counts)

it's not supposed to end like that!!!! crowley and aziraphale going their separate ways!! they kissed but not at all in the way most people imagined it would be!!!!

okay i will attempt to give a summary of my thoughts for the whole episode the way i have for the rest of the season. (see other posts: e1, e2, e3, e4, e5.)

shax is surprisingly good at hitting people with their deepest insecurities. it's a little inconsistent with other parts of her character, like not understanding sarcasm, but it works well for her being the main antagonist of this season. good on maggie for standing up to her!! bad on maggie for accidentally letting her into the bookshop.

it's a nice touch that aziraphale has battery-powered candles and lots of fire extinguishers to make sure the bookshop fire never happens again. also quite a reasonable justification for having multiple fire extinguishers for nina and maggie to use as weapons. lesbians fighting demons!

interesting revelations as crowley in heaven reads/experiences gabriel's file. i was confused at the time about why gabriel would say no to armageddon 2, but it makes sense after the beezlebub montage.

the gabriel/beezlebub shippers were right!?!!?! massive win for them. they really speedran aziraphale and crowley's whole arc, with making an agreement out of convenience, spending more time together enjoying human things, falling in love, realizing their own sides weren't as good as they seemed, ultimately running away together. the use of the song "every day" was sweet. it seemed kind of out-of-character for s1 gabriel and beezlebub but i suppose people change.

the "war" aziraphale started was over fairly quickly. bit anticlimactic.

the metatron was a plot twist. he seems very similar to aziraphale in a lot of ways. if aziraphale had had him as a mentor-figure from the beginning, things would have turned out very differently.

nina and maggie are so real for calling out crowley and aziraphale on meddling in their love life. they recognize how similar the two pairs are! probably a good choice that nina and maggie aren't going to immediately date since nina just got broken up with, but it's made clear that they care for each other and will probably date once nina is ready.

oh gosh we have to talk about the conversation between crowley and aziraphale. crowley has finally gotten up the courage to confess his feelings after six millennia!! only aziraphale is intending a completely different conversation about the metatron's offer. oh aziraphale can't you see why being an angel again and being your second in command isn't crowley's dream scenario??! it would mean crowley giving up his whole identity. when aziraphale was talking about how heaven is good and right, i could practically hear crowley thinking "you still believe that?!" it feels like aziraphale is taking a step backward. from his perspective though, it must sound like the perfect offer, and you can see how excited he is to tell crowley, and how devastated when crowley doesn't like it. and they revert back to their millennia-old dynamic of crowley wheedling aziraphale to go off and choose their own side, and aziraphale retreating to the safety of his moral high ground. bravo to david tennant and micheal sheen for their acting, but also they broke my heart.

the kiss. i'm screaming and internally sobbing. i had it spoiled for me that there was a kiss in this season (unfortunately, it's one of the first suggestions when you type good omens into youtube), but i wasn't expecting it like this.

bentley, now is not the time to play "a nightingale sang in berkley square."

to be clear, i'm not exactly mad at neil gaiman and the writers. they're obviously setting up a season 3 (which amazon better give them) and hopefully have a happy ending in mind for aziraphale and crowley. but that will take years and in the meantime i'm shaking with frustration!

i'm off to write a post-s2 fic maybe? or just unblock all the good omens spoiler tags and reblog a flood of posts. or cry.

[laudaddysmitten]

Thanks ghostrat/ bilvy for all you gave to us the past year. Have to follow your heart and whatever muse strikes you, go with where your passion lies. Grateful for the wrap up chapter/ end of Streamers AU. And endlessly grateful for all the amazing writing and art you gave the fandom. You'll be sorely missed.

On a more personal note, I'm just hella sad so IDK if this is bad Tumblr etiquette or something (sorry if so, I'm just inept, hoping this isn't anything negative to anyone), but I wanted my thoughts/ feelings to have somewhere to go, out into the ether I suppose...

In someone's comment on the last chapter/author notes mrghostrat just put up on AO3 for the now abandoned Streamers fic, they wrote "goodbye from the Good Omens fandom" and my heart broke with how real and....final... that made it. Even though, duh, my favorite writer and artist literally saying "my Good Omens muse is officially dried up and I have no desire to write any more with them" should've done it. I mean, it did, but I was still letting myself be in denial I guess.

Ghostrat was the first fanfic writer whose username I paid enough attention to to remember. Because I LOVE those fics. It was the first time I visited an author's works page, devoured every other thing he wrote, they were the first fics I adored and reread (a LOT), and all those works gave me the inspiration/ aspiration to attempt to write, hoping I'd be able to write maybe 10% as well as bilvy if I worked very very hard at it.

Just....the feels. I'm not sure if being on a mid-WIP hiatus myself, spawned by writing issues, imposter syndrome, insecurity, and health issues/ IRL stuff makes my feelings even worse. Probably. But man, just gonna have to give myself a forced and very rare "shut up and feel your feelings" day, because it's real and ignoring them won't make them go away.

🥺 😭 ❤️‍🩹

hi I really love ur art and writing stuff but I was curious if u were ever gonna update the streamer fic? It’s been a minute since I checked but idk I really liked it and ur other good omens works :)

hi, thank you!!

it's been on my mind a LOT these last few weeks-- i think i've decided to officially abandon it, and post one last chapter with all of my notes that show where the story was going to go. i'm not sure how that fits in with ao3 etiquette, but i feel so bad abt the idea of leaving it in limbo where no one knows what's happening with it

i'm sorry about the silence, but it's been easier to just kinda hide instead of come out and admit that my good omens muse is officially dried up and i have no desire to write any more series with them.

[strayen-fx]

Red.

》 HHJ x reader

》 angst, vampirish theme

》 warnings: mentions of blood, hints of physical assault

》 2.1k words

》 a/n: short and simple, after months of writing break. Hope you guys enjoy regardless :)

“Stay away from them, my dear. Save your blood from the horrors of their fangs. Be wary of solitude, and be wary of the crowd.”

It was a day not unlike any other. My morning kicked off lazily, with me waking up almost an hour later than a college freshman was supposed to. Nothing unusual there. I did my usual morning prep, took a cup of grandma’s tea in one gulp, and went my way. I was already late for the train—I had to run after a departing bus with an exceptional speed that would put Olympiads to shame. I got in the room just in time as the bell rang for first period. I came in huffing like an old man, but it’s alright. Way better than walking through the early jam-packed hallways.

The first aberration in my daily humdrum existence happened on my way to fourth period. A student from another department stopped me on my tracks. I knew him; he was a member of the student council. Was I in some sort of trouble?

He introduced himself as Han Jisung, then proceeded to ask if I have seen his friend.

“He’s tall,” Jisung explained. “But like, not super tall. Not the towering-over-people kind. He has a mole under his eye. He’s got black—no wait, I think he dyed his hair again the other day. Anyway, have you seen someone like him? He’s noticeably handsome. I guess. I’m more handsome, though, but you know what I mean.”

The whole school would know who he is talking about. The one and only Hwang Hyunjin: champion swimmer, council member, and just a general talk of the town. The Prince. Even if I did see him around, though, I wouldn’t know. I never pay attention to the people I walk by.

I shook my head and muttered a soft sorry. I did feel bad for Jisung. He looked so worried and dejected, and I can’t blame him—not after after the incident with Seungmin. I can’t really take it against him to worry about his friends. I sauntered off to my next class, my mind still stuck on the fact that a normal person in my school has actually talked to me, and I was able to keep my composure.

Fifth period: P.E. I don’t even know why we still have this subject in college. I opted to take a stroll instead. You see, a huge, dense forest is situated right behind the main school grounds. You could say that the school itself lies within the bosom of greeneries. Unkempt bushes and rows of towering trees stretched over several miles deep, starting from the edge of the campus to god-knows-where. It is my goal to scout the whole area before graduation.

Weighed down by my personal monstrous beast, I trudged through. I walked for at least fifteen minutes before I finally reached the spot—my spot. Sheet of decaying leaves cushioned a huge gray boulder, standing at least ten feet tall, shaped like an odd piece of egg smashed against the forest floor. Against it stood a larger stone, this one dotted with moss and weathered with cracks. They were propped against each other for support, as if stopping one another from tumbling to the ground.

There was a smaller rock at the foot of the smaller stone, and I use it as leverage to climb up and sit on top of the largest boulder. It was my favorite place. Most times I could just pretend that I was alone in my own tiny bubble, at the center of that clearing that nobody else ventures but me. I don’t feel the breath of people suffocating me with every step that I take. I don’t feel my heart thumping with the sight of anyone else. I don’t need to hold back. Here, I don’t feel weird.

But today felt somehow different.

It was awfully silent. The wind felt sharper and colder. Electricity was humming in the air, leaving my skin prickling with discomfort. There was a tension in my veins that I couldn’t quite explain—it felt like an omen of an incoming disaster.

Time ticked slow. A couple hours could have passed—or maybe it has only been five minutes—when a nearby rustling perked up my senses.

Trying to keep my movements as quiet as possible, I hopped down and took up a defensive position, which wasn’t easy to do for a student with no actual weapon aside from an almost-empty bag and a worn-out calligraphy pen. My instincts told me to take cover—but my feet seemed glued to the ground. Sweat trickled from my forehead. My hands started to feel clammy.

And then, just as I was about to scamper away, a figure crashed into view from behind the nearest oak tree. I almost threw my bag towards the person’s direction, until I had a clear view of the intruder’s face.

It was Hwang Hyunjin, wide-eyed and disoriented, with his cheeks and uniform smudged with traces of blood.

“Help me.”

His voice came out as a tiny croak, as if his throat was filled with acid. He stumbled towards me, reaching out his hand for support. I wasn’t able to move an inch—and who could blame me? The situation was way too hard to process.

Hwang Hyunjin, the university prince, was hunched huffing before me, his clothes caked with mud and dried blood, his hair a nest of mess on his head. He had a cut on his cheek, I noticed. His breathing was heavy and labored, as if the mere act of standing on his own two feet required all the effort he could muster.

“Help me,” he repeated.

“What happened to you?” I managed to blurt out. My initial thought was that some random outsiders kicked his butt for stealing their girlfriends. But no—someone like Hyunjin would have been able to handle that. Plus, something in his eyes showed an elaborate fear—something only a beast would be capable of instilling. I should know.

My heart began thumping faster, a colossal drum barreling in my chest.

Just as my schoolmate was about to open his mouth and explain, a loud rustling broke the stillness of the air. Before I could process what was happening, Hyunjin grabbed my hand and bolted away, dragging me with him.

“Don’t look back!” he warned.

I did.

At least a dozen feet behind us was another male, probably as old as Hyunjin. He was sporting our school uniform, walking casually under the shades of trees as if time wasn’t of any matter. What puzzled me, though, was the fact that we can’t seem to distance ourselves from him despite the heavy efforts Hyunjin had been exerting to drag us both away from this newcomer.

I took another glance behind me, and to my surprise, the young man wasn’t there anymore. Nowhere behind us, as if he dissipated without a single trace.

Hyunjin took a sudden stop, causing me to bump my head against his back. I was about to call him out for stopping, but then I saw the looming figure a few meters in front of us.

“You…?” I began, my mind a juggle of unanswered questions. How on earth did that happen? How is he—

Hyunjin's friend, Kim Seungmin, stood before us in his dirty school uniform. He looked pale, his eyes bloodshot, but he was standing there in full grace, very much alive, giving us a toothy grin. “You’re hurting my feelings, Hyun. Why are you running away from me?”

Hyunjin’s grip on my hand went tighter. “Seungmin...”

“Friends are supposed to help each other, am I right?” Seungmin continued, faux dismay dripping in his voice. He bared his fangs, its tips dripping with fresh blood. “So help me, Hyunjin.”

I felt my body run cold. I wanted to scream, run, anything—anything to get away from this. From him. From the two of them. From everything. But Hyunjin's hand remained strong around my wrist, and my legs were close to turning jelly. I could start to feel the fullness in my mouth, the pointy ends of my incisors. Something that only happens when I'm in an extreme hunger or danger.

“Stay away from them,” grandma said. “We are the same kind, but we are different. Weaker. They see us as preys, as special commodities. They can smell your blood despite my concoctions, my dear, remember this!”

Seungmin tilted his head to one side, finally regarding my presence. “And you, over there. I’ve never tried drinking such special blood.” He grinned. “Satiate my thirst.”

The last thing I knew, a strong hand was pressing tightly around my neck, turning my vision green.

°°°°°°°°°°°°°

“Have you heard of the news?”

“What news?”

“Kim Seungmin was safe! They found him in the forest yesterday.”

“Thank goodness! Was he hurt?”

“He had a few gashes, but he’s fine. Hyunjin found him and brought him to the hospital right away.”

Students filled the corridor, everyone bustling and hustling about the news: after his sudden disappearance, Seungmin was finally found by his best friend, Hyunjin. The latter saw him in the forest, hungry and disoriented. They went straight to the hospital to treat his minor wounds, and that was that—nobody bothered to ask how he managed to lose himself in the wilderness, or how we managed to survive seven days on his own. Nobody asked him stupid and unnecessary questions. Seungmin was safe, and that was all that mattered.

I brushed my way past the milling crowd, flinching at every accidental touch. I kept my eyes on the ground, forcing my mind into silence. I was expecting everyone to be in their respective classrooms at this time of the day, but apparently, the news of Seungmin’s return has become enough reason for everyone to wander about and neglect their individual duties. It was a grand miscalculation on my part—I hadn’t braced myself for this huge number of people.

Not here. Not now. Not ever.

I just have to get back home, and then it’ll be over. My insides would stop churning once I’ve drunk grandma’s tea—that has worked for 18 years now. I can stop this. I can stop me.

I made a run towards the comfort room. To my luck, nobody was inside. I washed my face over and over, as if doing so would cleanse me from the impurity stamped on every drop of my blood. The face on the mirror horrified me—I had to stop myself from punching the glass over and over.

The moment I stepped out, I felt his presence.

He was there, leaning against the wall, lurking behind the shadows. There was a faint gleam of terror in his eyes, but at the same time, I can feel it: the hunger. Lust for meat. Thirst for blood.

“Don’t be like him, Hyunjin,” I pleaded. “Don’t be like us.”

He shook his head in resignation. “It’s too late.”

He took a step closer. Another. He kept on walking until he stood right in front of me, too close I can feel him breathe.

Too close I can see the faint traces of blood on his lips.

“I’m still hungry,” he sobbed. “I’m still hungry…”

Fear was apparent in his eyes—fear of what would happen to him, fear of what he had become. “You will be fine,” I offered, taking his hand in mine. “Trust me on this. It will be fine.”

And then I felt it, stronger this time—the hunger he was talking about. The thirst. My stomach growled in protest at the sight of Hyunjin’s pale flesh. I can smell his blood—I can feel its steady rhythm as it flowed through his pulsing veins.

I need to get home. Maybe my grandma could do something about Hyunjin, too. Maybe she could produce a stronger tea, and both of us wouldn’t have to worry about our instincts anymore.

We stood next to each other for a full minute before he broke the silence.

“We need each other to survive,” Hyunjin whispered. “If we drink the blood of our own kind, we can last for a month without feeding on others.” He freed his hand from my hold and gripped my shoulders tightly. “I need you. And you need me, too.”Hyunjin leaned down until we were staring at each other at eye level. He closed the distance between us. I closed my eyes, and for the first time, I allowed my monster to take ove.

[sunflowerbi]

For Therapy, Of Course

A little fix-it fic. Aka, what if Eve didn't have V arrested and they kissed instead.

-----

Eve should probably be trying to convince herself this was a bad idea, should be considering if she really wanted to do this, but she was tired of pretending it mattered. She knew that it didn’t, that she had to be there because Villanelle was in there. She would prefer if she didn’t kill her therapist lead but really, she knew she hardly even cared. Villanelle was in there and all she wanted was to raise a white flag and talk. Villanelle had looked so soft in her hotel, wearing only Eve’s robe, hair still wet from being in Eve’s shower. She had been so entirely overwhelmed by the sight that she’d stormed out, bitterness dripping from her tongue all too easily, once again pretending the heat running through her veins was anger, like she hadn’t always known it was something else entirely.

Watching Martin hit the ground, she thought for a brief moment that he was dead, a terrible omen for the conversation about to come. When she was inside though, feeling his pulse and listening to Villanelle casually say he only had a concussion, she relaxed a bit. At least there wasn’t a murder to cover up. She was certain Martin would be more than willing to forget about this, happy to pretend the whole day had never happened.

“Why are you here, Villanelle?” She asked, setting herself on the couch, inches away from where Villanelle was curled up.

“For therapy, of course.” As if it was the most obvious thing in the world, a simple fact.

“You know it’s never good to start therapy by lying your way into an appointment.” Eve kept her eyes faced forwards, equal parts guilt and fear mixing in her gut.

“Yes, well, I am not very good at that, am I?” she sighed, her whole body seeming to sink with it, “Starting things the good way.”

“Neither am I, clearly. Villanelle, I-”

“Why did you slap me? I was trying to- to make amends. But slapping is not how to do that.” Her voice broke a bit this time, vulnerability filtering in.

“I’m a fucking idiot, mostly.” Eve finally looked over at Villanelle, meeting her eyes. “You were all gentleness and holy love, trying to find God. I was, am, not that. I shot Konstantin in the hand the other day to get an answer out of him, tracked down a new recruit, broke into Helene’s home. I am not becoming a good person.”

“I do not think I can ever be a good person. I have done too many bad things. Also, I killed the people from the church. They were mean to me, but I was not very nice to them either.” Villanelle admitted, her eyes staying locked with Eve’s.

“Maybe not, but you don’t deserve me treating you like that. I am not a good person either, Villanelle. I will not apologize for what I did before, we were both cruel, but I will for slapping you. Because I am sorry, that wasn’t fair. I think I expected things to be different after the bridge, expected some answer to fall into my lap, but it didn’t, and I found myself more confused than ever.”

“Thank you, Eve. I do not know what you want either, even though I thought I did. But I was talking to Marlin-”

“Martin.”

“Whatever, Martin. And when I told him about you, I realized that I know what I want. I need to know what you want, because I cannot handle this much more if it’s not the same thing. I do not want to run around each other anymore. I am very tired of it all.” It was soft, barely more than a whispered confession, and Eve finally felt something inside of her break.

“You. I want you.” Eve answered confidently, allowing her finger to trace the shape of Villanelle’s face. “Every bit of you.” Her finger dragged gently down Villanelle’s lip.

“Do not say that if you do not mean it, Eve.” Her voice wavered, ever so barely. “There is a lot of me. Most of it is bad, and I cannot be who I was when we met. I am not going back to that, nor am I a loyal follower of Christ.” It was hopeful but stern, and Eve could see how close Villanelle was to breaking.

“I mean it, Villanelle. I do not want you to be anyone else but you. I love you. I don’t know what it means yet, but I do know that. I think I’ve known that since the first time we met.”

Villanelle broke then, a tear slipping down her cheek when she finally let herself touch Eve for the first time, their fingers gently intertwined. Eve kissed away the tear as it made its descent, before she traced her way across the smooth skin, gentle kisses that landed finally on Villanelle’s lips.

“I love you too, Eve.”

[princessphilly]

All Bets Are Off: Chapter 1

Word Count: 2068

CW: not yet, except for some bad language

Note: I don’t always write long chapters. Some may be closer to 2000, some closer to 5000, it depends on the chapter and what is going on. 

taglist: @nazdaddy @texanstarslove @shortstacks-blog @missymore @hockeywocs @puckbitchesgetmoney @defiant-mouse @myhockeyworld87 @chicagostylehockey​ @barriesweet

Join the tag list here!

Chapter 1

“Look at my girl, moving up in the world!”

Nina could hear her mother’s voice in her head as she moved around in her office in the Lemieux Training Complex. Today was her first day working not just as a physical therapist for UPMC but as a physical therapist for the Pittsburgh Penguins and Nina felt like she was going to burst from nervousness. ‘Not bad for a girl from Clairton,’ Nina thought as she went through her schedule.

Nina had pledged never to come back to Western PA when she graduated from Clairton High. Now, almost eight years later, she was back and working with the hometown hockey team. After doing undergrad at Penn State, aka grades 13-16 with everyone from the area usually going there, Nina went down south to the University of Florida for her Doctor’s in Physical Therapy after getting her B.S. in Kinesiology. The warm weather was so much better than the fucking snow of Western PA but UPMC was offering the most money out of all of Nina’s job offers. After thinking about her student loans, UPMC was a no fucking brainer.

Taking a centering breath, Nina pasted her best professional smile on her face and got ready to go meet her first client. Before she could do that, her door opened and three men stepped in.

“Here is our newest physical therapist. Unlike Mike and Trent, Nina is a DPT,” Rick Dvorak, the head physical therapist explained to the two men with him.

Nina smiled and reached out her hand. “Good morning, my name is Nina Jackson, nice to meet you.”

Of course, she knew who the two other men were. One was Super Mario, Mario Lemieux, Pittsburgh legend and co-owner of the Pens. Next to him was Sidney Crosby, superstar who had just won his third Stanley Cup. Mario had a friendly professional smile but Sidney was looking at her like she… Nina didn’t quite know how to place that look. She kept her professional smile on her face while inwardly grimacing. Of course, the star of the team would feel some way about a black physical therapist.

“Sid looks a little starstruck,” Mario joked.

Sidney laughed self-consciously, his cheeks reddening adorably. Nina kept a straight face, thinking, ‘I hope I never have to treat him.’

Sidney smiled and his whiskey-brown eyes brightened. “Just a natural reaction to a pretty girl.”

Nina rolled her eyes inwardly, her professional smile getting strained. Sidney wanted to give himself a bag skate as he could tell that she was turned off. He felt awkward as hell and he wanted to curse but this wasn’t the time. He laughed, wishing that he wasn’t anywhere but here. Nina replied, “I’m used to turning heads but I didn’t quite expect to do that here,” with a laugh.

Sidney had met his fair share of gorgeous women, probably more than his fair share. Yet, his breath was taken away when he first saw her. Clear brown skin, dimples when she smiled, and dark brown hair pulled into a bun, nothing unique. But when Nina smiled, all Sidney wanted to do was drown in her smile and see what he could do to keep her smiling like that forever. Then, he got a look at the rest of her body and Sidney wanted to not only keep her smiling forever, he also wanted to find out what would get her to scream his name.

Then he faltered and realized that he really had goofed. Nina’s hand was still outstretched and he forgot to shake it. Sidney gave Nina an apologetic look and took her hand.

Nina didn’t know what happened when Sidney took her hand but she felt something electric, hot, and intense as hell. It was scary and she carefully pulled her hand back as soon as she could. Whatever it was, Nina was sure it was just another omen that today was going to be the worst day on earth.

Sidney gave Nina his best smile when she let go. He never felt such a connection when he had met a woman before but fuck, he had to change her mind about him.

Nina spent the next five minutes mentally willing the team owner, the captain, and her boss out of her office while making small talk. Luckily, the men left pretty quickly after wishing her luck on her first day working with the team. Sidney Crosby was the last to leave and Nina busied herself with arranging her papers. She could feel his eyes on her and Nina had no desire to interact with him. Then he finally left and she sighed deeply. Nina took several deep breaths before refocusing herself on her day ahead.

**

“Nina Latreice Jackson, now you know I ain’t raise no fool!”

Nina let out a low groan as she thought about another thing her mother loved to say. As much as it seemed like Crosby didn’t like her, Nina decided that she would be completely professional in every way. It wasn’t that hard; athletes were pretty much the same no matter where they were. Just like the Florida Gators players she worked on while in school, the Pens players fell under several categories. There were the jokers, the serious ones, the ones who lived to flirt, and players who fell under all of the categories.

For her first weeks, Nina worked at creating a professional boundary with the players she was working with. For the majority of the time, they were decently behaved. It was mid-season so there were all kinds of lingering issues, some more serious than others. Nina figured out pretty quickly that some of the players were going to follow directions while others were going to slack off until their issue made it impossible for them to ignore it.

However, today was her first day working with Sidney Crosby after her first day. Like she expected, it was a little awkward and his teammates didn’t help. The leader of the chirping was Geno Malkin. The guys kept walking by, sending suggestive looks and comments. Sidney’s cheeks were a dull red midway through the session. After a while, Nina got annoyed. 

The straw that broke the camel’s back was when Geno and Jake came by for the third time, making kissing noises. Nina snapped, “Unless you need treatment, I don’t understand why you are in here.”

“Ouch,” Geno replied as Jake laughed. “She mean.”

Sidney rolled his eyes as he gave his teammates a warning look. As Nina wrapped his ankle, Sidney tried to take several deep breaths. He had rolled it a bit during practice. It wasn’t major but with the other trainers unavailable, Nina had decided to look at it.

“Why are you so stiff?”

Sidney looked up at Nina. She was checking out his ankle with pursed lips but when her eyes met his, Sidney sucked in a breath. Nina was really… words failed.

“I’m waiting,” Nina prodded with a sarcastic chuckle. This was making her feel really uncomfortable. All of the others players were relatively easygoing but the captain, he was so stoic around her. It made her feel like he didn’t really want her and Nina had observed enough over the last weeks that whatever Sidney wanted, he got. If he said one thing, she would lose the extra money from working with the team and Nina couldn’t afford that.

Sidney gulped before deciding just to admit the truth. “It’s a bit hard to be around such a beautiful woman like you.”

Nina laughed before giving Sidney a sardonic smile. Sidney felt his heart break into two. He didn’t even get a chance to ask her out before fucking it up. “It’s true,” he whispered.

Nina swallowed before focusing back on his ankle. “You should be good, Mr. Crosby. I don’t diagnose injuries; I just help treat them but you should be good to go for the next practice and everything.”

“Call me Sidney.”

Her eyes met his again and Sidney was looking at Nina with the most earnest expression she had ever seen.

“Ok, Sidney,” Nina forced out with a fake smile.

Sidney groaned before getting off the table and sliding his feet into his crocs. Nina took a deep breath and rolled her eyes after he left.

Gretchen, one of the athletic trainers, came in and snickered. “I’m surprised he made it without self-combusting.”

“What?”

“Yinz don’t know? He likes you, Nina,” Gretchen explained.

Nina shrugged. “Yeah, right.”

“He’s always staring-“

Nina interrupted Gretchen as she said, “I’d rather go and get lunch. Panera Bread sound good?”

**

 Nina counted herself lucky that she was able to avoid Sidney after that day. Her luck ran out in the worst way. Nina was rushing out to make it to a dentist appointment when she ran into a hard chest. Tripping over her feet, Nina fell on her butt. 

“Owww!”

“Are you okay?”

Nina looked up and it was Sidney Crosby, of course, holding out a hand. She cautiously grabbed it and let him pull her up off the floor. Like the first time they met, Nina felt the electricity when their hands touched. This time, Sidney held her hand even after she was off the floor. 

“Seriously, are you okay,” Sidney pressed. 

Nina felt her cheek feel hot as she replied, “Seriously, I’m fine. It was an accident.”

“I mean, I don’t want to give you more reasons to hate me.”

For the first time, Nina noticed that Sidney looked vulnerable. Pulling her hand out of his grasp, she murmured, “I don’t hate you. I think you’re the one who may hate me.”

Sidney blinked in surprise. “I don’t hate you! But I would love to take you out for dinner sometime.”

Something made Nina feel instantly happy at his words that he didn’t hate her and wanted to take her out but it couldn’t work. “Nice to know that you don’t hate me but dinner isn’t going to happen. I gotta go, I’m going to be late!”

Sidney watched Nina race out of the building to her car. He was losing and he wasn’t used to losing. Gritting his teeth, Sidney vowed to himself that he would get Nina to warm up to him, sooner or later.

**

“Hey girl, how was your appointment?”

Nina smiled as she FaceTime with her best friend Lauren. “Not bad, no new cavities or anything. I talked with Dr. Smith about maybe getting adult braces and she said I don’t really need them.”

“Sounds good for someone who was freaking out,” Lauren teased. “So, what’s going on at work? Meet any hot players? Anyone you’d hook me up with?”

“Girl, no. I keep it strictly professional with them. I don’t even want them thinking anything is going to happen,” Nina replied. She half considered sharing her interactions with Sidney Crosby with Lauren but her BFF had a bad case of loose lips when drinking. So, Nina kept that to herself. 

“Is Sid hotter in person than he is on TV? You know I love my Steelers but I gotta know.”

Nina snorted before saying, “Meh. He’s alright.”

“He’s alright,’ Lauren said in disbelief. “Oh, there’s a story here.”

“There’s nothing because I deal with him at work now and then.” Nina rolled her eyes as Terrible Tess, her cat jumped in her lap. Steely, her dog, was at her feet. “Anyway, did you get the tickets for the game yet?”

Lauren was a lawyer and one of the perks was tickets to Steelers games, usually either in a box or on the 50-yard line. As diehard fans, Lauren and Nina tried to take advantage of that perk as much as possible. Lauren stated, “Oh yes, we got tickets. And there’s this guy…”

Nina listened to Lauren talk about her newest guy she was interested in as she petted Terrible Tess. As much as she didn’t want to, she couldn’t help but think of the look on Sidney’s face when she basically told him thanks but no thanks. He actually looked hurt; not an egotistical hurt that most men got when they were told that they aren't as great as they thought they were. But it was like an honest hurt. It didn’t matter though; past heartbreak taught Nina that getting involved with anyone even affiliated with work was the worst idea ever.

[fantasaria]

#idk it makes me sad that i didn't like the humans very much this season because i think ideally they're central to this whole how to be#a person question i also hope we get to see more of hell next season because i do think they're stuck in basically the same place#with a different aesthetic! and the stick being#thrown into a torture pit instead of thrown into hell#or like. mindwiped and locked in an office for all eternity#gabriel broke my heart which is embarrassing but when he goes from not even understanding what music is to experiencing#the simple pleasure of sharing a song with someone for the very first time and almost immediately hits repeat for eternity... baby. baby bo#i would also like more crowley! this was very much the season of aziraphale#which is fine but i missed him yelling questions at god and the bits where it seemed he really wanted aziraphale's opinion instead of just#wanting aziraphale to develop better opinions#next season had better be crowley wrestles with the universe i am telling you!!!#remember three months ago when i was like eh... another good omens season#i bet it'll be cute but i'm content with my book#i don't go here i said strapping on my clown shoes#seriously though i do think crowley is scared to admit to wanting to be good both because god rejected him and he doesn't want#to be a sucker for her (he is only interested in being a sucker for aziraphale)#and like. chase after something he's barred from and has already been told isn't for him.#and that's why it's so hard for him to admit even to himself that he too would be unhappy ditching earth#in ways that parallel aziraphale's unwillingness to let go of heaven as a source of moral authority and goodness#but the way aziraphale goes oh no! i cannot trust my own judgement and desires. They are suspect!#my judgement is that crowley is good and also funny and sexy. my desires are for his company and also his body#therefore the source of these desires is also maybe bad. i mean he's a demon. he's got to be bad#right??? but no. but i saw him do a good thing. but maybe i didn't? I should probably take a stance on this.#and he makes this crowley's problem until the apocalypse but then the second he gets the chance to cram crowley and his feelings for him#back in a heaven approved box he jumps at it in a way that requires just being WILDLY insensitive and dismissive of crowley's feelings#he's not just being a dick about their relationship he is being a dick about crowley as a person. and he should know better but is choosing#not to because he wants the easy out so badly. anyway i love him he was my favourite character all season no notes (winepresswrath)

#the job flashback was the best at showing how heaven's sense of morality is... pretty messed up from a human pov#I honestly really liked how job was the one being 'tested' but aziraphale was basically going through the same thing#but in the end aziraphale though he lied and did get his beliefs somewhat shaken still ultimately believed in heaven's ideas of good + evil#which is how you get the edinburgh flashback wherein he decides bodysnatching is pure evil#at least until mr dubious surgeon argues it's necessary for the greater good. and uses the dead kid tumour as an instant KO#at which point aziraphale does a complete 180 and decides graverobbing is fine actually whilst crowley is there with his morality 101 ppt#pointing out how it's not as black and white as it all seems given yk poverty. the way the rich can protect their own bodies.#and even in the present day when given the deal aziraphale still rolls out the 'you're the bad guys' line and 'I forgive you'#he's seen enough to know better but is so deep into denial that it's going to take a shock to kick him out of it (hello s2 finale)#but yeah s2 was very much laying down aziraphale's arc whilst crowley had much less to do and I'd love if their arcs follow each other?#aziraphale knows he likes earth. he likes food music people. it's why he knows he wants to change things.#but aziraphale is also not really there with the nuance for all he's ahead of muriel gabriel etc.#meanwhile crowley could probably write novels on morality and his own philosophies on it. but he also would rather run away.#and yet whenever he's had the chance to (when he thought aziraphale was dead. the years after the failed apocalypse) he hasn't taken it#and it's shown time and again that he does actually care for people and for earth (in s2 alone there's the suicide prevention. job story)#but as the post puts waaaay better than me. he refuses to acknowledge what that means and the idea that he could be 'good' is offensive#(I say post above but the bit I'm referring to is in prev tags)#it's actually pretty fascinating he's thought out morality to such depth but refuses to apply that knowledge to himself#the two of them are both in denial over entirely different things but in the end it comes down to them not believing that they're 'good'#sorry this is just rambling but the post and prev tags are both going to be rattling in my head for a while (muninnhuginn)

I do gotta say tho, even tho I’m mad at aziraphale because he’s being a terrible boyfriend like what you said about the “I forgive you like” because WHAT. But also I really like the way the show really demonstrates the underlying cruelty of heaven and it’s angels. Really shows the hypocrisy of a group of beings who are supposed to do good, especially aziraphale who really buys into the heaven propaganda, who hurts people, particularly the person who means the most to him. Because like you said he fully just takes advantage of that devotion Crowley has for him. Insane, this shwo makes me INSANE

I missed this anon and yeah! The angels were one of my favourite parts of the season, and I think the strongest element aside from Neil Gaiman deciding he's just a simple man who wants to put his otp in situations. They are deeply awful and I kind of love them. They are the exact kind of moralizing hypocrites who are callous and cruel precisely because they think being on team good means everything they do is justified and it's actually impossible for them to be in the wrong (they're angels! is it even possible for them to do the wrong thing?).

but!! To me, they also seem like they're basically kids? Obviously they're not literally children, but there is this very consistent reoccurring joke about how childish/sheltered/immature they are. Muriel is the most obvious example, but the archangels come off like bratty twelve year olds to her sweet little kid.

Gabriel is basically teenager in love flipping off his family as he runs away with his backstreet guy. Uriel is constantly picking at Michael, Michael is playing at being in charge like it's a game, and it's ridiculously easy for both Aziraphale and Crowely to trick them obvious half assed lies. They're not allowed to ask questions! The Metatron treats them like badly behaved kids out past their curfew. At any point an old man with a beard may pop up to scold them and send them home, and they're all scared of doing something wrong by his standards and getting in trouble with this guy who is pointedly not God but who lines up exactly with the pop-culture idea of god the father, and who offers Aziraphale, among other things, a respite from the hard work of figuring out what the right thing to do is for himself. It's fine! You don't have to question the belief system you were born into or make a painful break with everything you've ever known! Aziraphale has had six thousand years on earth to grow up, but the other angels have been sitting in a sterile white box playing "i'm not touching you" games with each other and filing paperwork.

And I think that's extra interesting because this season also really emphasizes:

Heaven has Institutional Problems

Aziraphale isn't the only angel who's unhappy in heaven. Gabriel and Muriel were both completely miserable. They just didn't understand that they were unhappy because they'd never experienced anything else.

Angels who aren't Aziraphale can change and grow! There's very explicitly Gabriel being changed by love and Muriel growing up a bit on earth, and from a more fan-theory angle there's also Jimbriel, who I think is probably basically Gabriel minus the war and six thousand years of playing referee for Michael and Uriel while unleashing an assortment of plague and calamities on earth because that's God's will! Buck up champ.

We also get Gabriel and Beezelebub talking about how their underlings basically live for Armageddon, "if you can call that living." This is so bleak. They've all been on a six thousand year time out just dreaming of the day they get to beat the shit out of each other until they feel better, but it won't work because eternity is just more of the box.

Anyway I think it's going in a distinctly eden adjacent direction. Aziraphale is going to tempt those angels with knowledge and the capacity for change. I have veered so far from your ask anon i'm sorry you're right heaven really went all out on sucking this season & while Crowley and Aziraphale are both fucking it up Crowley refrains from being spectacularly cruel to Aziraphale about it and Aziraphale should learn to return the favour. I forgive you!! I forGIVE you. I forgive YOU. "you can be an angel again" is actually a worse thing to say than "you're a demon. i don't even like you." when he finally picks crowley over heaven i'm going to lose my mind.

[jaytoons7]

Just go back to sleep

A short CU fanfic, Revolving around my teen version of Melvin (With an OC I made recently mentioned)

Warnings: Descriptions of insomnia, Mild language/swearing, Descriptions of a migraine

Melvin Sneedly, Or Vinnie as he preferred to be called nowadays, Was typing away at his laptop while sitting on his bed. His trusty cat, Karaoke, Was fast asleep next to him, But Vinnie couldn't get himself to sleep.

His mind was buzzing with thoughts, None of them good. He was thinking about something his high school science teacher, Mr. Timothy Ryft said to him very recently.

Vinnie remembered sitting at his desk, Discussing some theories with his teacher. He always liked Mr. Ryft, He was one of the few adults he trusted even after everything. However, He didn't expect Ryft to say this to him,

"Vinnie, There's something important I need to tell you. I'm all for you regaining trust in people after what you've been through, But there are people out there you should never trust, No matter what they say to you. They'll try to use you, To hurt you. So when the day comes that someone untrustworthy is desperate to gain your trust, You must wake up."

"H-Huh..?" Was the only way Vinnie could respond. But Mr. Ryft only smiled and went to grade some papers, Like the conversation never happened.

That memory still haunted Vinnie, What did he mean by all of that!? Why did he suddenly feel the need to tell him all of that? Was it a warning, An omen? Vinnie never liked it when people were cryptic with him.

Vinnie looked at the clock sitting on his nightstand, It was about 3:15. He knew he shouldn't be staying up this late on a school night. Hell, He promised his mom that he would stop doing that. His body was practically yelling at him to go to sleep, But something in the back of his head was preventing him from doing so.

He was about to ignore that feeling and close his laptop, When he saw an unfamiliar file on his home screen from the corner of his eye. "_Project_S_" He didn't remember having a file like that. He hovered the mouse on the file, Sweat beginning to form on his forehead. He was hesitant to click. What if it was a glitch or a hacker and clicking this broke his laptop?

No, His curiosity was beginning to take over, He had to know what this was. If it caused his laptop to break, He could always repair it. He clicked on the unknown file.

Of course, It seemed to be protected by multiple passwords and firewalls. Fortunately, Vinnie was pretty damn good at hacking. And hey, This file was on his laptop, So why shouldn't he take a peek at what lies inside?

He typed away like there was no tomorrow, Slowly beginning to gain access to this mysterious file. "Project S," What were you exactly..? He would've continued, But he suddenly got a notification. Someone wanted to video chat with him. Vinnie knew better than to video chat with people he didn't know, But what was the worst that could happen? He could always leave the call if things get dicey.

He plugged in his headphones and put them on before accepting the call request. The caller didn't have a name, And their camera was off. "Um, Hello?" Vinnie spoke. "I think you might have called the wrong person."

"Get off of that file, Boy." An adult male voice spoke. "You don't know what you're getting yourself into." "Wh-? Why should I!?" Vinnie huffed. "It ended up on my laptop! What's it doing there!?" "That's none of your concern." The voice answered. "Just get off the file and go about your business."

Vinnie stayed quiet for a second, He was calculating the risks of continuing. "Alright, Fine! I'll get off of the stupid file!" He finally growled. "Good boy." The voice said in a condescending tone. "Don't talk to me like I'm your pet, You creep..." Vinnie hissed. "I don't see why this file is so goddamn important to you."

He exited out of the call and took a deep breath. Maybe this guy was right, This was probably none of his concern. But that feeling in the back of his head came back, The feeling telling him to continue. Honestly, All of this was beginning to give Vinnie a headache. Staring at a computer screen probably wasn't helping either.

He quietly snuck to the kitchen and poured himself a glass of water. Then, He went to the bathroom and got some pain meds. The last thing he wanted was for this headache to turn into a migraine. He snuck back into his room, Putting the two pain pills in his mouth and took a drink of water to wash them down.

He placed the cup of remaining water on his nightstand before sitting back on his bed. He looked at this clock again. 3:50, He didn't have a whole lot of time left before his mom would come in and wake him up. Still, That didn't matter, This file was of the upmost importance! He could deal with his mom being upset and being tired at school later.

He clicked back onto the file and began hacking more into it. As he did so, Stuff slowly became revealed to him. There were news articles of stuff that's already happened, The discovery of the toilets on Uranus, The boogers that attacked the city. But most importantly, There were a few articles discussing the "mysterious" underwear clad hero, Captain Underpants. Vinnie grabbed the hypno ring that he always kept in this nightstand's drawer. What could this person want with him? Did they know that he was actually his old elementary school principal?

Suddenly, He got another call request. He rolled his eyes, Put on his headphones, and reluctantly got on call. "I told you not to mess with that file, Boy!" The voice hissed. "Don't tell me what to do." Vinnie huffed as he continued typing. "You don't understand the amount of shit you're getting yourself into!" The voice shouted. "Just-" The person calmed themselves down. "Just go back to sleep, Melvin. You wouldn't want to make your mother worry."

Vinnie froze at this. How did he know his name and about his mother!? "H-How do you know my name!?" He hissed. "And about my mom!? Have you been stalking me!?" "That isn't important! Just listen to me and get off of the file! This has nothing to do with you, Trust me!"

When the voice said that, Vinnie immediately thought back to what Mr. Ryft said. He also noticed the parallel of Ryft telling him he has to wake up and the voice pretty much insisting he goes back to sleep. Well, One thing was certain. Vinnie trusted Mr. Ryft a hell of a lot more than he trusted this guy.

He tried to leave the call but couldn't. Whatever, He would just have to deal with this creep yelling at him while he gets deeper into the file. He minimized the call screen and continued getting into the file. "Stop it right now!" The voice yelled. "This is your last warning!" Vinnie just ignored him while he continued. Finally, He got full access to the file. He pumped his fists in celebration before wiping some sweat off of his forehead.

He scrolled through the file a bit, It seemed to talk about a power that could make the world obey, Well, Somebody. Unfortunately, The name seemed to be redacted. The file then mentioned something about the 3D Hypno ring, Which made Vinnie clutch his harder. Finally, He made it to the end of the file, Which revealed it's full name,

"Project Sneedly"

Vinnie's heart raced a mile a minute. This file was obviously about a supervillain, And this person somehow got ahold of his last name! That and with the hypno ring mentioned, He was involved with this plan somehow.

Suddenly, The voice spoke again. "I told you not to get involved, You know too much." Vinnie shook a bit before he suddenly got the most head splitting headache of his life. He let out a yell of agony and quickly grasped his head, Headphones flying off in the process. "W-What are you doing to me!?" He shouted.

"I can't have you going around telling people what you saw, Can I?" The voice suddenly spoke from the inside of Vinnie's head. "Especially not that meddling teacher of yours. You've always been a "tattle tale" as your classmates would say. Just sleep this headache off, And this will have been nothing but a bad dream."

Vinnie quickly stood up, He knew what was about to happen. His memories were being painfully erased. The pain in his head was almost unbearable, He had to find a way to fix this before it was too late!

He thought back to what Mr. Ryft said once more. "You must wake up." Of course! Vinnie had to find a way to "wake" himself up! He quickly looked around for something, Anything, In his room that would wake him up. However, He was beginning to run out of time, His mind was beginning to fade. Suddenly, He looked over at the glass of water he got earlier. It was still 3/4ths full.

He quickly grabbed it, Knowing what to do. And it seemed that the voice knew what Vinnie was gonna do as well. "Melvin Richard Sneedly, Don't you fucking dare!-" But he refused to listen. "I need... To WAKE UP!!" Vinnie then splashed the water onto his face.

Vinnie woke up with a gasp. He was on the floor, Hair and face soaking wet from both sweat and the water he splashed on himself. He looked and saw Karaoke sitting next to him, Scared of what happened to him. The splitting headache was fortunately gone, But his whole body felt sore.

He shakily sat up and saw the time. 7:00. He had to be getting ready for school. He stood up, Ignoring the pain in his body, And thought. He remembered everything that happened beforehand, And it was definitely too real to have just been a dream. He quickly looked at his laptop. The file was no longer there, But Vinnie fortunately remembered it clearly enough.

He closed it and placed it in this backpack that was set on the floor near his bed. He then picked it up, He was gonna have a lot to talk about with Mr. Ryft today. He took a deep breath before leaving his room.

[narrators-journal]

Return to sender

CW: I’m bad at writing pregnancy stuff,

first part: here

previous part: here

Before you knew it, you'd been on your own for almost four months. God, it's been so long. You thought with a bit of fear as you drove home from the store in the swiftly waning light of evening, glancing at the passengers seat where bags of all of the supplies you had looked up for having a home birth. Which wasn't going to be fun, but going to a hospital meant paperwork and being kept in one place for an unknown amount of time, easily trackable, not to mention the hospital birth records would be perfectly accessible to the Zoldycks, meaning they could track down your baby. So, you were just going to bite the bullet and do it yourself. On the bright side, I have about 2 months to prepare and learn, so things will go great. You told yourself, sending a quick prayer to any god listening that you didn't face any complications, because you'd only gone to one doctor's appointment for the baby, and while it didn't show any bad omens for the birth, that had been ages ago, so you weren't really sure of how healthy your baby currently was. Though, some of that anxiety was more-so from the small changes you'd begun to notice in these last few weeks. It wasn't anything major, mostly cramping, more backpain, and exhaustion, but good ol' google had told you these may be signs of pregnancy. Hence the evening trip to the store for all of the things you lacked at home for a home birth. You hoped you were just being overly cautious, but you couldn't be too sure. Despite that though, you did your best to stay positive and just went about collecting your shopping as carefully as you could and waddling up to your nasty little apartment. You were pretty happy at the bottom of the stairs, on edge, as always when the place you lived had so many sketchy people that their aura seemed as engrained in the carpet as the mystery stains on your bedroom floor, but your mood instantly fell when you got to the top of the stairs. You stood there, heart racing, (e/c) eyes wide and frantically searching for any reason as to why you were suddenly so nervous. After all, you'd worked through this level of anxiety in your first month there, you should have a better handle on it than this, but then it clicked. It's too quiet. You realized, putting a hand on the banister to steady yourself as the dread hit you. Your apartment building was still bustling with noise, from neighbors having sex loudly, to someone's kids getting into a shrieking match, those noises were pretty mundane to you now, but something still felt too calm. Like that moment in movies right before the murderer attacks. Calm down, everything's fine. You told yourself, taking a deep breath or two to try and wait for the wave of paranoia to ebb. One of the neighbors probably just has some sort of guest over. Or maybe some strong nen user passed by, I'm sure it has a reasonable explanation. You continued to reassure yourself, but the feeling didn't pass. Some voice inside of you just kept screaming about something being way too off, maybe it was your survival instincts, maybe it was simply your paranoia acting up, either way you decided to trust your gut. So, you compromised with yourself. You gathered your bags and unlocked your apartment to place them in, ensuring they'd be safe when you returned tomorrow, than you made your way back down to the foyer as swiftly as you could manage while heavily pregnant.

         "Are you alright, miss?" A man suddenly asked, making you yelp, but when you looked over, it was just some dark haired man with a cross-shaped tattoo of sorts on his forehead sitting at the guard's seat. You'd never seen him before, but you tried your best to not be impolite. At worst, he was some sort of spy for Illumi, but if he wasn't and he was just one of the many sketchy guards that worked for the apartment building, you still didn't want to offend him. So, you laughed a bit, clasping your hands over your stomach to hide how badly you were shaking,         "Yeah, I'm fine. I just realized I'd forgotten something in my car, don't want it stolen." you said in a shakey but kind voice, which made the man snort a bit,        "Would you like me to go out there for it? I promise not to steal anything," he offered, his grey eyes sparkling with mischief while he was oddly amused by his own words, but you shook your head, brushing any stray strands of (h/l), (h/c) hair from your face as you spoke,         "No thank you, but I a-appreciate your offer." with that, you made a beeline for the door, swiftly stepping outside and taking a deep breath of the fresh spring air. All at once, your anxiety began to wane, which you were immensely thankful for. Slowly, you let out a breath and waddled over to your car, ignoring the pinching cramping sensation that had plagued you for about a week now and just deciding to sit outside in your car for a while and maybe sleep there for the night since the upstairs of your building felt so weird. However, when you got to the vehicle, you pulled at the handle and nothing happened. When you tried a second time, the same thing happened, the door didn't budge. To make thing worse, you couldn't seem to find your keys when you checked your pockets.          "Of course, it'd be just my luck that I'd lose my damned keys and lock myself out of my car." you muttered, leaning against the car and resting your head against the window, trying your best to think up a second alternative to going back inside when you heard it. The single voice you wanted to never hear again,        "I must admit, you're a lot more resilient than I first thought." Illumi hummed, and before you could even think to react, he trapped you against the car, slamming his hands into the window so hard you heard it begin to crack. You shrieked and pressed your back against the car, less scared of getting cut on the glass than you were of Illumi, but instead of getting killed with his aura, or manhandled into some unmarked van, or hell, even being yelled at like you'd expected, you simply felt him brush a stray tear you didn't realize you'd shed from your (s/c) cheek, and when he did speak, he was as calm and unreadable as ever,          "You had me highly worried these past few months," he said, pushing himself off of your car and looking you over, keeping one of his hands on you in some fashion the whole time, just in case you tried to bolt or fight him off, but you never did, you'd frozen in a mix of terror, defeat, and a dizzying sense of warped relief that nearly made you nauseous. "Now, you're coming home and we are going to have a nice, calm, talk about your mistake and how you can fix it." he said, grabbing you by the wrist to lead you away. However, when his words finally sunk in, you were filled with another sense of frantic determination, refusing to move as best you could while your (e/c) eyes welled with tears again, though that was more from the pain of Illumi tightening his grip on your poor captive wrist when you resisted.           "No!" It came out a lot more forceful than you expected, "No! I don't want to go back a-and subject any child to whatever torture created you!" Finally, it was your words that earned a pause, and when you looked up to his face you saw a mixture of hurt, annoyance, and a shred of understanding flit across his doll-like facial feature ever so slightly.          "(y/n), you need to calm down. You're growing hysterical and you're going to hurt yourself trying to fight me. Just relax and come home." He ordered, but you shook your head and continued to resist as best you could, which thankfully worked since the assassin didn't want to purposely hurt you         "No! Just let me go, please! K-kill me if you must, but I don't want to go back!" you cried, and in a frantic attempt to get away, you pulled at your wrist as hard as you could, and by sheer luck, actually slipped through Illumi's grip. Sadly, your luck was spent with that last trick, so your attempts to get into the apartment building and maybe get help from the guard were quickly thwarted. Some part of you thought that maybe you could get away from Illumi Zoldyck again, but failed to realize he was a lot faster than you, even if you weren't about-to-burst pregnant. In a hope-crushing flash, he'd grabbed you again, wrapping his arms around your torso to yank you back against him and holding you there with one arm while his free hand captured your wrists to stop you from frantically flailing.             "(y/n), if you do not calm down right now, I will get the doctor to use sedatives on you." he warned, his voice low and dripping with foreboding, which, if you had any fight left in you, washed it away like he had the first day of your escape. However, you'd gone still for another reason.              "I-Illumi, let me go," you squeaked, your heart pounding so hard you didn't think you'd be able to hear his reply,              "Absolutely not." He then tried to lift you up a bit so he could move you, but you wriggled              "No! P-please listen, Illumi!" You plead, "I-I think my water just broke!"