#has anyone figured out that the browns go away or get darker the worse i feel

[eiightysixbaby]

let it snow

eddie munson x fem!reader

my contribution for @littlexdeaths 12 days of promptmas!prompt: snowed in or caught in a blizzard

i know it’s not technically day one anymore, so sorry this is coming a bit late, but i hope it’s okay!

no warnings, just fluff!

The snow picked up an alarming amount between the time you walked into the corner store, and now. You swear you couldn’t have been inside longer than twenty minutes, and already the city streets are coated in white powder.

And it’s not a light, delicate fall of snow. Oh no. It’s huge, fluffy flakes that make it hard to see even a few blocks down the road.

You sigh, shifting the few shopping bags in your gloved hands as you prepare to brave the weather. To make matters worse, you don’t fully feel comfortable in navigating back to your hotel. You weren’t even supposed to be in such a big city all by yourself, but you’d decided to stop and stay overnight, splitting your drive home for the holidays into two parts.

You don’t know the area at all, really, and with such heavy snow coming down, you’ll be lucky if you can make it back without struggle.

You start your walk, tucking your face into your scarf as much as you can to shield it from the icy wind. It’s getting slightly darker, the winter sun preparing to hide away for the night.

Just fucking great.

You navigate the slick sidewalks, grateful you wore your most durable boots for this trek. You eye the street carefully, taking note of the shops you pass and the side streets juxtaposed with the larger main road. The longer you walk, though, the more you start to think you aren't going the right way. It didn't take you this long to get to the corner store, so there's no way it should be taking you so long to get back. And you swear you don't remember passing that building on your way.

Shit.

The white flakes seem to fall even harder now, and in the decreasing daylight you curse yourself for leaving your hotel room in the first place. You curse yourself for stopping in the middle of your drive home, too — you should’ve just stayed on course and suffered through driving at night.

You eventually make the decision to turn around, certain you're not going the correct way. Only when you turn, your heel slips on the pavement, and in one swift motion, your ass is hitting the ground. Your bags land around you in the snow, the wet substance seeping through your pants and chilling you to the bone almost instantly.

“Woah, you alright?”

You snap your head up in surprise, meeting the figure that the voice belongs to. You hadn't even noticed anyone nearby, and honestly assumed you had to be the only moron out in this weather.

“Uh, yeah. I think so,” you reply, regaining your bearings.

The stranger holds out a gloved hand, and you accept it somewhat pitifully. He helps you to your feet, and only then do you get a good look at him.

He's truly gorgeous, to say the least. Like, severely handsome. And he just watched you plummet onto your ass in the snow.

He's got the prettiest brown eyes; that's what you notice first. His brow is furrowed in slight concern, and those chocolate irises scan your face. He has long, curly brown hair, though it's mostly white from the snowflakes that cling to it. The top of his head is covered by a red beanie, which plasters his bangs to his forehead.

He's dressed in a puffy black coat and black jeans to match, with heavy combat boots on his feet. A plaid scarf finishes off the look, and although he's dressed warmly, his ivory skin is flushed red from the windchill. The tip of his nose is adorably the reddest part, and then you realize you're totally ogling him.

“Um, thank you,” you say awkwardly, bending down to retrieve your bags.

“Sorry, I would've grabbed the bags, but I honestly didn't want you to think I was going to take them and run,” he says, laughing faintly at the end.

“Why would I think that?” you ask.

He tilts his head slightly to the side.

“You're not from the city, are you?” he answers your question with a question.

“No, ah, I'm not from anywhere near here,” you admit. “I'm a small town girl to my core.”

“That explains it,” he smiles. “Well, that's refreshing, honestly.”

You smile in return, finding that you don't know what else to say, but also that you don't want to walk away from him. Luckily, he speaks first.

“What're you doing out in this weather?”

“I could ask you the same thing.”

He smiles again, that endearing little grin. “Touché, but at least I'm familiar with the area.” He pauses, then, “Do you know where you're headed? Like, you're not lost, are you?”

You feel your face heat with embarrassment. “Actually, I was trying to find my way back to my hotel. But I have no idea where it is from here. I have no clue how I got myself so turned around,”you gush, mentally kicking yourself.

You shiver, your now-wet jeans clinging to your skin unforgivingly.

“Shit, you're probably freezing,” he says. “Listen,” he chews at his lip, pausing. You can see the gears turning in his head, choosing his next words carefully. “I live right up here,” he motions behind you to a tall apartment building. “Do you want to come up? Until this storm blows over?”

For some reason, your heart skips a beat at his offer. Yes, yes I want to come up, you think. You open your mouth to say something, but no words come out.

He’s seriously one of the most beautiful men you’ve ever seen, and he’s offering you shelter from this storm. But on the other hand, he’s a complete stranger. You don’t even know his name, for christ’s sake.

“I swear, I’m not a creep,” he says, though he visibly cringes after he gets the words out. “Okay, feel like saying that only makes me seem creepier. But I promise. I just don’t want you out here by yourself in this weather.”

“What’s your name?” you ask, the only thing your brain can force out of your mouth.

His eyes go wide for a brief moment, as if to say, ‘Oh shit, how have I not introduced myself yet?’.

“Eddie,” he says, holding his hand out for a proper greeting.

“Eddie,” you confirm, finding that you love the way that name feels on your tongue.

God, you have got to get it together.

You give him yours in return, feeling better now that you have something to identify him by. You accept his handshake, firm but careful, like he doesn’t want to scare you off.

“So? Do you wanna come up?” he asks, not prying, but definitely hoping. Hoping you’ll say yes, because he couldn’t bear to end this conversation with you and risk never seeing you again.

“Sure, Eddie,” you say, the corner of your mouth twitching up.

And dear god, the way his eyes light up when you agree could make you crumple right there on the city sidewalks.

“O-okay,” he stutters, “Yeah, let’s go.”

He leads you towards the door of his building, taking the bags from your arms.

“I have hot chocolate, by the way. And some dry clothes for you,” he says, catching himself. “I mean, only if you want them. Shit, is that creepy?”

You laugh, letting him hold the door for you.

“It’s not creepy. Thank you. Seriously, you’re a life saver right now.”

And the way he blushes at that, the parts of his face that weren’t already wind-flushed going full pink, makes you swoon. You could actually tackle him to the ground and kiss his adorable little dimples. But you won’t, of course.

“Yeah. Sure thing,” he replies airily, smitten as he watches you traipse through the lobby.

Maybe the frightful weather isn’t such a bad thing, after all.

[randomestfandoms-ocs]

Anyway info-dump about Rosabelle please? 🥺

Anytime yes pls I love her 🥺 Okay so Rosabelle Legume is Gaston’s youngest official child (I hc him having a lot of bastards raised by their moms but he only raised his three eldest sons and his first daughter; also her mom is a Bimbette but she doesn’t know or care which but I have all the faces figured out) and yes, her name is actually just Rose + Belle because Gaston is nothing if not an obsessive bitch, hence why she never uses her full name. She’s a part of Uma’s crew and third in command after she and Harry, though that spot goes to Gil when she gets called to Auradon. She’s fiercely loyal, violent, cunning, and will do anything for her crew. She never shows emotion, Harry is the only person who has seen her cry since she was a child, and even that was a very extenuating situation. She lives on the ship and spends her days running schemes and collecting money for the crew, though she occasionally does work for Gaston to keep him from going after Gil.

Gaston terrifies her. He goes from being a loving (if sometimes disturbingly obsessive) father to violent and temperamental in a split second and she never knows what to expect, she also doesn’t know which is worse. Her hair is naturally a darker blonde but she’s been dyeing it brown for as long as she can remember, first at her father’s insistence and then as a matter of comfort and familiarity, but she switched between the two in Auradon.

She picks up a few jobs on the isle to support her crew, some of which are definitely better than others (the main two jobs are for Stromboli and at her dad’s tavern) but to her crew is the only family that matters so she’ll do whatever it takes to take care of them. She and Harry have been an item (as much as anyone is an official item on the isle) for a couple of years before she gets called to Auradon, but even before that they’ve always been two peas in a pod, working in perfect sync to support Uma, the kind of close that can have a full conversation with just their eyebrows. Harry is violently protective of her but also respects that Ro doesn’t usually want his protection because it makes it look like she can’t protect herself.

She is genuinely terrified of a few villains on the isle (her father, Stromboli, Maleficent, Hook, and Jafar in particular), but there are also some that she’s unfortunately fond of, and she considers LeFou to have been more of a father to her than Gaston.

She’s among those summoned to Auradon because Ben realizes that he can’t justifiably invite the children of other villains without inviting a child of his parents’ villain, but god damn she doesn’t want to go.

She doesn’t want to leave her crew, and she’s afraid of what Auradon might do to her to punish her for her father’s crimes, but it’ll get her away from Gaston and she and Uma already have a few plans of their own for it, so she goes. She doesn’t trust Mal’s crew in the slightest but they’re all on the same page about the wand (though Ro doesn’t want to bring down the barrier — she wants to get the kids and pettier criminals/sidekicks off and the villains who’ve redeemed themselves or were never really villains, but she thinks a lot of the villains can’t just be let loose or it’ll be a living hell for everyone) so they can tolerate each other. She’s put in a dorm with an Auradon kid but I’m not sure who yet, so she only has to see the gang to plot and that’s good enough for her.

She and Belle actually hit it off pretty early on, Belle knows what Gaston is like and that there’s no way he was a decent father to her, and sort of takes Ro under her wing, which is how she gets to know Ben better. She and Ben have kind of started to get along before the love potion situation but Ro still doesn’t fully trust him and truly can’t believe that he would ever actually trust her. When the love potion plan comes into play, Ro convinces Mal that she should use it because a) there’s four of them and one of her so if they screw her over she’s fucked but if she screws them over they still have strength in numbers and b) because she and Ben have already been seen forming a bond so it’ll draw the least suspicion and prevent anyone from suspecting magical interference, but the truth is that she doesn’t actually like the plan and she’s learned that Ben already wants to let all the kids off the isle so if she uses it then it means that Mal can’t take advantage or try to get the actually bad villains off the isle and also she really does believe that Ben wouldn’t trust her enough to take food from her so she thinks the whole mess can be avoided.

It’s a bigger mess when he actually does take it and Ro is torn because Ben is very much growing on her but she’s also still in love with and loyal to Harry but Uma did say to do whatever it took to get the kids off the isle so fuck if she knows what to do, she’s kind of just riding this wave and waiting to see what happens and accidentally befriending both Mal’s crew (especially Jay) and Auradon kids (especially Lonnie and Aziz) along the way

And that’s before we get into the absolute fucking shitshow that is descendants 2 but this got wayyyy longer than it was meant to be so I’m just going to shut up now 😅

Also Ben is just so in love with her it makes him fucking stupid but to be fair so is harry and like so am I so like, I get it

Also I’m sorry if any of this is incoherent I wrote most of it at 6am while getting ready for work rip

[whitexwingedxdoves]

Scream.

Part One: Bonding. Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader (Not explored in this chapter), Platonic Peter Parker x Reader Pronouns: She/Her Warning: Im not sure there is one for this chapter haha. Summary: All you wanted out of your interview at Life Foundation was a job, you didn’t expect to become an experiment. A/N: I’m very excited about this, its gonna be a fair few chapters. I just love Symbiote’s hahaha. Just note everything that is in bold, is the Scream.

Master list of chapters

You sat, shaking your leg as you sat in the waiting room of a rather large building. Nervously watching the people pass by. It’s just an interview. You thought to yourself even though deep down you knew it was true. It wasn’t just an interview, it was the interview for your dream job. You had worked your whole life to get to this point, here at Life Foundation. You brushed down your skirt in some attempt to ease yourself. You peered up at the TV’s that hung from the walls in the waiting room, the news was on reporting on the reunion between Steve Rogers and James Barnes. You watched for a moment allowing the information about their friendship soak into your brain until the presence of a powerful man broke your concentration. “Incredible isn’t it.” He announced, his hands buried in the pockets of his pants. Carlton Drake, though his eyes seemed darker, like he hadn’t slept in a long time. His skin seemed clammy even from the distance you stood from him you noticed something was off with him. You pushed yourself up from the seat and pushed your handbag over your shoulder. “I’m not one for a reunion story” you laughed, nerves spilling out of your words. He responded with a laugh and hung his head. Peering at you under his brow bone he simply shook his head. “No, the way they perfectly preserved those men so they could exist today.” You scrunched your face out of pure embarrassment for even thinking a brilliant mind like Carlton Drake would be referring to the fuzzy friendship story. “I take it you’re Y/N” he added pulling one of his hands out of his pockets and offering a hand out for you too shake. You nodded and accepted the invitation, you were right... he was clammy.

During the interview you could feel he was acting a little out of the ordinary but you thought little of it, after all, all you knew of this man was whatever the news told you. You answered every question he threw at you with ease and confidence.  He told you about multiple projects his team was working on and told you, you would make the perfect fit in one particular project but he didn’t go into any detail . You didn’t notice that under his desk he held a glass cylinder tube and in it was a yellow and orange substance that slowly crept out when he held open the lid. You didn’t notice the way it climbed its way into your handbag that was on the floor and you definitely didn’t notice his amused smirk as he watched his plan unfold before him. Before you knew it, your interview was over, he shook your hand and told you, he would be in touch very soon with the outcome. The entire journey home your stomach felt tight, you couldn’t think about anything else as you clutched your phone in your hands, staring at the screen hoping and praying it would ring. Later that night in your apartment, you laid in bed though you couldn’t sleep a wink. Your mind was racing, predicting because he didn’t ring you that day, you hadn’t got the job even though you tried to rationalise it, he’s a busy man after all. You didn’t notice the orange and yellow sludge make its way from your bag and across your room, climbing up your sheets and onto your bed and just like that it was on your skin, seeping through almost immediately and the parts that didn’t, reached your face and entered you through your nostrils. You had no time to react, the sensation paralysed you for a moment, like lighting had struck your body though it wasn’t painful, in fact it was the exact opposite. Once you gained control of your muscles again, you started to pant, the sense of relaxation ran through your body, like you felt whole for the first time in your life and your eyes fluttered shut.

-

The next day you were woke by the sound of your phone ringing, it didn’t take long for you to realise and scramble to grab the phone to answer it. When you did you heard the voice of a women on the other end, claiming you had indeed got the job and Carlton would like to meet with you to congratulate you and get working right away. You couldn’t believe your luck, you jotted down the exact location you needed to go and the smile wouldn’t leave your features as you hung up the phone. You looked around your room in disbelief and let out a small excited squeal. You couldn’t ignore the thirst that dried your throat and with that information you pulled yourself out of the bed, ignoring the sheets that seemed to be soaked with sweat and made your way to the kitchen. You filled up a clean glass with water and gulped down the glass but it didn’t quench your thirst so you repeated your actions a few times until the thirst died down a little. You didn’t waste any time getting changed, getting ready to meet with Carlton.  

You gave your cab driver the address and sat back into your seat for the journey and watched as the city of San Francisco turn into a blur. You thought about what happened to you last night, the way your body tensed, it was strange, nothing like that had ever happened before. You shook the thought out of your head dismissing it as a vivid dream, you didn’t want to ruin today with pointless thoughts. As you came to a stop in the cab, you passed the driver the money and left the cab. You looked around, your skin started to clam up as you noticed you were in a air field, now confused you looked hoping to see someone or something. While you ventured deeper into the air field, towards a large metal shed, you began to wonder if the cab driver had got the address wrong some how, that’s when you sensed something come from behind you. You turned your head and nothing, you stopped for a second with the puzzled look etched on your face until Carlton Drake and two other men appeared from the large metal building. “Y/N!” he smiled, noticing your clammy skin only made his smile shine a little brighter. He came closer and gave you a small hug. You had no idea how to react as he pulled away from you, the confusion still glued onto your features. He laughed at your expression and looked around at the location he picked. “I know, a little weird for a meeting but it holds purpose. I promise.” He announced, gesturing for you to follow him around the corner.

Instantly you was greeted by a large jet and a few more workers standing around, talking to one and other. It didn’t ease your confusion as you followed Carlton toward the jet. You listened as he explained your role in the company would not be required here in San Francisco but instead you’d be flown to New York for the offices there, how your belongings would be flown out to you. You was speechless as you got lost in his words, he explained how he had accommodation ready for you which he thought you’d find very comfortable. You simply nodded as he stood to the side, making way for you to get onto the private jet. He ended his speech explaining once you arrive at the New York offices your role would be explained to you. Completely speechless, you turned to Carlton as you stood on the first step, he just laughed and said You’re welcome.

-

You sat back in the jet, attempting to relax despite being far too high in the air for your liking. You looked out the window and admired how small the world looked from up here. You saw the city of  New York in the distance, knowing you’re close now you closed your eyes and took a deep breath but it was cut short when you felt some sort of turbulence on the plane and instantly you started to panic, your breathing became short as the jet never seemed to steady, instead it got worse as if something was hitting the plane over and over again. Hold tight. A voice appeared in your head, not one you recognised. It definitely wasn’t yours nor was it the voice of anyone you knew, it sounded slightly distorted and was only causing you to stress more, though you did exactly what the voice said. Grasping onto your chair you closed your eyes and braced for impact. Just when you thought you were reaching your end, you felt something take over your entire body. It was someone or something had taken control over your movements as you got up from the chair and kicked out the emergency door and jumped out. You couldn’t believe what was happening it was a complete out of body experience as you felt from the jet, out of pure fear you blacked out mid air.

You woke up shortly after, standing on the ground just outside of New York city. The voice came back again, She has awaken. The voice in your head mocked. What the hell is happening. We have arrived at our destination. The voice laughed before you felt yourself kneeling in front of a body of water showing your reflection, it wasn’t you not anymore, what looked back at you was a distorted face, it looked evil, your skin no longer smooth and soft instead it gave a shine almost as if it was slimy and... the colour was now the darkest black you had ever seen with yellow accents highlighting your figure.  Your hair not the dull brown colour it once was no instead it flowed long and full of life, different shades of orange and yellow clashing together. You where no longer human. We are Scream. As you stared at your reflection you could feel your eyes welling up and it wasn’t long until the water showed your true self, as you watched the foreign slime sunk back into your skin, you hair morphing back to its usual self. “Oh my god” you heard a voice from behind you, you quickly spun around on your knees and your eyes met with a boy. He wore a red suit but his face looked similar to the reflection you had just witnessed but you could tell this boy wasn’t the host of something alien... no you had seen him on the news, they called him Spider-man. You didn’t get to respond before you completely blacked out.

-

Peter carried you in his arms as he reached the new Avengers compound. He knew he couldn’t take you to a hospital, you didn’t need a medical doctor, you needed a scientist... you needed Banner. Panicked as he jogged through the halls, holding onto you tightly but effortlessly, he finally reached a medical room and placed you on one of the beds.

“Friday, tell Bruce I need him asap!”

“Yes Peter”

The boy watched you for moment, confused what had just taken place. Just like that, Banner came into the room almost out of breathe as he looked at the young boy.

“What is it Pet...” That’s when he saw you, almost lifeless on the bed. He immediately came to your bed side and checked for a pulse. “W- what happened, who is this?” he questioned the teen, Peter seemed a little out of it too but everyone’s focus shifted as Tony Stark entered the room.

“What’s the problem here?” he asked Banner. He got no response, all he had to do was look at Peter to get him to cave.

“I saw a plane crashing, I just went to help and when I got there, she was there... but she wasn’t her, she was something else.” his words where fast and panicked but Tony held his hand up and just like that he was quiet again.

“What do you mean, she was something else?” He watched as Banner kept checking your pulse and timing it, checking for any cuts or scratches. Both men watched as a small graze on your forehead vanished, leaving your skin untouched. The both watched in disbelief. “Come on kid, what do you mean?” Tony asked snapping his fingers at the boy but keeping his eyes on you.

“I – I don’t know, she looked... I can’t describe it. Her skin was shiny, her hair was completely different, like she had shapeshifted into something. She had two voices. I-I” he couldn’t continue and Tony knew that, he turned to him and nodded, his hand now on the boys shoulder.

“Okay kid, go home. We’ll let you know what we find out.” He demanded and just like that, Peter left the room, his head slung low.

“Run some tests.” Was all Tony said as he left the room, confused by the scenario.

[suganovakawa]

𝐒𝐀𝐔𝐃𝐀𝐃𝐄 .

PAIRINGS : tooru oikawa x fem! reader , platonic hajime iwaizumi x fem! reader

GENRE : angst , romance

WARNINGS : cursing , implied car accident , amnesia recovery

SYNOPSIS : tooru doesn’t understand how special you are to him until he comes close to losing you forever . as he struggles to comes to grips with his feelings and balance it with his future , you still have to recover from your own injuries , but without your memories to assist you .

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐅𝐈𝐕𝐄 < [ 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐒𝐈𝐗 ] > 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐒𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍 .

your first day back at seijoh doesn’t seem so bad . . . but that boy at the window sure does pique your interest .

word count : 1.4k

saudade masterlist .

SAUDADE

( 𝐧 . ) a nostalgic longing to be near again to something or someone that is distant , or that has been loved and then lost ; “ the love that remains ”

⠀"hajime, was i always this... popular?"

⠀unsure of how to accept a bouquet of flowers from an unknown face as you and the only friend you could confide in walked through the halls of the vast school, your mind was only left to ponder aimlessly. did you always think this school to be so big? maybe it was because you had no recollection or memories of this place, that it seemed like a never ending corn maze.

⠀"well, word travels quickly, y/n. everyone here is worried about your safety. we're all glad you're back, safe and sound." you turned to the male walking beside you, his hands loosely stuffed in his pockets. that same gaze turned to the flower bouquet held tightly in the embrace of your arms, echoes of well wishes and greetings filling your ears as you struggled to find your classes. iwa was assigned to be your personal guide until you got the gist of the seijoh halls once more, and he made sure to make it crystal clear he was your go-to guide incase you needed some assistance with anything.

⠀"i feel guilty, not being able to remember anyone..." your voice hushed into a whisper, only loud enough for hajime to decipher. "everyone i've spoken to is so nice, i wish i could at least remember everyone's names to thank each of them properly." every time anyone reached your vicinity, hajime was the one who had to inform you of their name before they approached the two of you. you had to explain of your amnesic situation, to which each of them understood... to an extent.

⠀you'd always get a mix of emotions in reaction to such horrific news, depending on the person. many shown pity, while others attempted to empathetically understand your frustrations. a select few were skeptical upon first hearing the news, but there was nothing you could be lying about. amnesia wasn't something to be joking about; at least, you found no reason to joke about it. the way it erases your mind of your precious memories with those you love and cherish is cruel in its own right. you remember how distraught your parents were when you had no recollection of their faces. you believed them to be your family, as you assumed they had no reason to lie, but that was as far as credibility went.

⠀hajime was a tremendous help through it all, too. after his first meeting with you - when you awoke from your supposed coma, he brought in a large group of boys, around the same age as the two of you. though their names were a blur, the one thing that stuck out to you was when they each thanked you for being their volleyball team manager.

⠀the aoba johsai volleyball club team. that's who they were to you. could a team really be so tightly bonded they'd even visit a mere manager? the thought of it humbled you, and your heart felt fuzzy. you were able to smile genuinely once more, bringing joy to the boys' faces. though their visit wasn't that long, you were able to remake some friends, and maybe met new ones before returning to seijoh.

⠀you snapped out of your daze as you accidentally bumped shoulders with another student, flinching at the sudden contact. hajiime reacted to your movement by looking to see who you bumped into, but it was too late for him to speak up first.

⠀"watch where you're going, will you? damn." he snapped at you as his nasty glare stared you down, his posture slouched over and grumpy. even with an appearance as unique as his - bleached buzz cut, darkened eyelids, and two brown stripes on both sides of his head - no name came to mind. his intimidating aura worked on you all too well, and your mouth clamped down nervously, since it technically was your fault you hadn't paid attention to where you were walking.

⠀"kyoutani." there was a bark, to which both you and the strange male looked towards hajime, whose glare was darker than the other's. "don't talk to her like that. it's y/n."

⠀as if it was some sort of special cue, kyoutani's snarl lightened oh so slightly, his eyebrows arching upwards as he cleared his throat before looking at you once more. "oh, y/n." his voice lowered to a mumble, "sorry about that. glad to know you're back in one piece." in astonishment towards his abnormal attitude change, you weren't able to say anything in reply as he quickly shuffled past the two of you and disappeared down the hall.

⠀"who was that, hajime?" you were freaked out about how easily iwaizumi was able to change such a grumpy attitude with just a snap and your name. were you a sensitive topic to talk about amongst the students? sure, your accident was pretty bad, but it could've been a lot worse than memory loss, right? amnesia was probably the luckier gamble of the entire situation.

⠀unless if there was something else he hadn't informed you of already?

⠀"oh, don't mind him. he was part of the volleyball club team, too. he's just more on the... lone wolf side. he doesn't interact with us that much." he only shrugged at your curiosity. "he knows of what happened, and it's nice to know he has enough manners to wish you well."

⠀there were so many questions you wanted to ask him; the problem was, you didn't know where to start. there was that standing fear of overwhelming him with too many inquiries, too. just how much did hajime iwaizumi know? what doesn't he know? he seemed to be capable of informing you of everything that you'd need to know, but even if there was anything he was hiding under the surface, you would have no notion or clue as to what it was.

⠀and while you were eternally grateful for his presence and overwhelming kindness, your curiosity of rediscovering everything continuously poked at the back of your brain. maybe when you got back on your feet, stable enough to figure out things on your own, hajime would let up and see things for yourself. for now, you were content with him being at your beck and call - whether it be for better or worse.

⠀"we're here." you filled your lungs with a sharp inhale as hajime opened the door for you, reintroducing you to your first classroom of the day. seeing your nervousness, the brunet merely smiled comfortingly, placing a hand on your shoulder before looking to the others, who were trying to hide their curiosity in seeing you standing under the doorway. "there's no one you should be afraid of, y/n. you sit next to me anyway, so you'll be fine."

⠀"thank you, hajime." there was nothing to be afraid of, he was right. why were you hesitating? there was no need for that self inflicted worry.

⠀two empty desks stood side by side as majority of your classmates rose from their own to greet you the moment you stepped in. unfortunately for you, there were too many people reaching for you all at once, so hajime was a bit behind in naming all of them for you. as much as you tried and appreciated their concerns, all you really wanted to do was just sit down and let everything sink in. today was going to be a long day.

⠀"oikawa, are you not going to say anything to y/n?"

⠀oikawa?

⠀your head turned at the name, noticing how a small bunch crowded a single desk in the back of the room, their faces less than pleasant as they glared at the lone male sitting by the window. an uneasy knot grew in your stomach as you caught glimpses of the student; you ignored hajime repeatedly calling your name, instead focusing on the boy sitting in the back of the room.

⠀why was someone so attractive sitting all the way in the back like that? alone, no less?

⠀the male ignored every advance towards him, and the students who ganged up on him had no choice but to back away, grunting in their failure as they plopped down in their own desks. you, however, still felt strange. oikawa... there was no ring to it, just as everyone else's name was in aoba johsai.

⠀but you couldn't deny it, he was the one.

⠀and such a thought was solidified the moment he turned from the window to gaze into your eyes. it was only for a second, but that stare meant something; you could feel it.

⠀oikawa...

⠀the first one to see you when you woke up.

a / n : writers block hurts so much i deeply apologize for the absence 😭 i’ll def be updating more frequently now , don’t worry !! n don’t mind me crying over this chapter , casually crying as i write this on tooru’s birthday— happy birthday sweetie

saudade taglist : @ot127 @rena0921 @karlitabi-rrito @psychicpercyjacksonfan @crescentbitch @amelimiles @damnirina @pasta-warlord @blossomingbangtan @clinomanians @i-am-kinda-in-a-lot-of-fandoms @manq-fandoms @cirtruss @sugar-wara @haikoo @anime-simp @kairostatue @awkwardspontaneity @iwantapoptartqwq @aquariarose @softestdreamer @plantisnotplant @avylee @froppysgirl @that-animebitch @wisepandaslimeland @samanthaa-leanne @dumplingzumispam @0hakaashi @captain-janeway @afterglowkuroo @bellabelieveme @attixc @chickenrest @tycrackculture @ynjimenez @lissa-writes-and-does-matchups @lavieenblancetnoir @dabilove27 @cuddlesslut @crypto-s

taglist closed !

[shimmeringclouds]

Karamatsu - Lycoris Radiata

𝘠𝘰𝘬𝘢𝘪!𝘒𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘮𝘢𝘵𝘴𝘶 𝘟 𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

Dim. Yet warm. You figured that's how a forest would be during the summer.

With that thought in mind, however, it didn't help you whatsoever with finding the path you were supposed to be walking along. Of course you would lose track of where you were meant to be walking; wandering minds and feet aren't exactly a good pair.

Glancing upward through the mess of tree branches and leaves, you could just about make out the glimmer of stars above you. Looks like you missed dinner. Again. Was it really so hard for you to go for a relaxing walk in the woodlands?

Sighing, you rubbed your upper thighs. Sore. The blood pumping through them felt weird against the fabric of your trousers, thumping uncomfortably against your fingers. Tingling. Just... weird.

Tree trunks stood by attentively, waiting patiently for your tired figure to curl up against its' bark. And you did just that, groaning as you stretched out your arms and legs. Your arms fell with a thud to your sides, fingers absentmindedly caressing the cool grass beneath you.

...Now what? Were you just going to sit there for the rest of the night? A ridiculous idea, surely. However, it was the only thing you could do. It's not like you knew if anyone was nearby to help you get home and, even then, you didn't think you could just trust anyone you would meet in the middle of the woods at night.

Another sigh. You're good at those, aren't you? You tried to take a look at your surroundings, only to see the dark figures of trees and bushes (at least, you hoped they were bushes). Dark blues and greens, hues of black, absences of colour.

A flash of red. A stark contrast to the deep colours around you. A beautiful flower, you saw. Its' crimson petals clustered together in the centre, with numerous similar coloured stems curling upwards, swaying and dancing with the wind.

"A Spider Lily, huh?" you muttered. You reached out and grazed the tips of your finger against it, a small smile tugging at your lips. "You shouldn't bloom here, all alone like this..."

Your mind briefly wandered back to a conversation you had had with a friend at some point throughout the week. Being the flower enthusiast she was, you always allowed yourself to become subject to her seemingly endless rants about flowers, plants, herbs - anything that she had knowledge about. You remembered what she had said about these richly coloured beauties.

'If you see someone that you may never meet again, these flowers will bloom along the path.'

It sounded like a beautiful but tragic piece of poetry. You began to wonder where the myth had even come from. When was it first spoken? Was it based on true events? Was it really such a bad thing, not meeting someone again?

You knew, from experience, that letting people leave your everyday life was actually beneficial for yourself. Although it took you a number of years to realise it, you found that the kinds of people you attracted were a lot worse than they appeared to be. Deep down, they were monsters. Horrible people, who have the audacity to call themselves human.

Of course it was painful, but only at first. Now, it didn't bother you much anymore. Your soul felt lighter, if anything, indicating that you were getting better, not worse.

Releasing the flower from your ghost of a grasp, you leaned your head back, closing your eyes. That was enough for today. It was time to rest for a while. Breathing in, and out, slowly, ever so slowly, a feeling of slumber crept its way into your body.

Relaxing your tense muscles, you released a long, heavy breath. Sleep.

"It's dangerous to sleep out here, my dove."

"WHA-!!"

An unholy shriek escaped from your throat suddenly, and you pushed your body away from the tree you were leaning against, crawling rapidly across the ground. Whipping your body around, your wide eyes landed on the lantern that outlined the shadowy figure, who stood just behind where you were previously sitting.

"S-Sorry! I didn't mean to scare you, angel!"

The deep, husky voice that whispered into your ear became slightly higher pitched and frantic. You saw the figure step forward, causing you to flinch.

"Ah, do not worry, princess. I won't harm you..."

"That's what they all say!" you blurted out. A short silence followed before you asked:

"Who.. Who are you?"

The figure stepped forward, raising its' lantern to reveal itself.

It was... a man. Yet he wasn't human. His skin was pale, eyes surrounded by red markings. On top of his brown hair was a pair of glowing blue horns, which seemed to flow like fire. his clothing seemed old fashioned, covering his slightly built figure in dark robes of satin and ribbons. The lantern that he held also emitted the same coloured light as his horns, flickering before you.

"You may call me Karamatsu, my dear," he bowed slightly, a cat-like grin crossing his features. "I am but a humble spirit who spotted a wandering soul, lost and alone in a forest that humans should be cautious with. Perhaps some guidance is in your best interest?"

"I, uhm... You're not.. human?" A deep chuckle sounded, sending a shiver up your spine. It was echoey. As if, even though he was standing right in front of you, he was still so far away.

"I'm afraid not, flower. I am an Aoandon. But do not be afraid, I am not here to hurt you. I would only be a guilty guy if I were to leave such a beautiful woman alone in the woods, where anything could happen."

He reached out a partially gloved hand to your figure, still on the ground.

"Please, allow my light to guide you home."

You were sure that if you could see the words he spoke, they would be surrounded by flowers and sparkles. You never knew a man - or anyone, for that matter - to speak in such an overzealous manner.

However, it wasn't necessarily a bad thing. It didn't make you feel uncomfortable. Quite the opposite, actually. You guessed that's why you reached up and grasped his unnaturally cold hands, allowing him to pull you upwards in a swift motion. He grinned softly down at you, making you realise just how short you were compared to him.

"May I ask for your name, love? Or would you prefer the names I give you?" he winked. You suppressed the urge to roll your eyes, in fear that he would actually hurt you if you got on the wrong foot. So he was a gentleman and a flirt? What an odd combination.

"[Y/N]..." you decided to not answer his second question. It was probably for the best.

"[Y/N]. A wonderful name! As gorgeous as the stars above! I am certain that they aligned to create a bridge just for us to meet on this special night!" Karamatsu's hands were waving around in wild, extravagant gestures. He looked ridiculous. What a strange character.

"I- .. Sure.."

For most of the journey, you listened to this... spirit, ramble nonsense about the scenery around you, or about your features that he found endearing. There were times where he would deliberately lower his voice into something he thought was sultry and enticing, peering into your eyes with a smouldering stare. You didn't mind the dip in his voice at all, not a single bit. It was just the way that the poor man was clearly trying too hard to make you fall for him.

'He clearly has never been successful with any woman before... How cute!'

You couldn't help yourself. You had just met him, and you already wanted to know more about him. Was that weird? Probably. Maybe it was the touch-starved part of yourself that was talking, longing to be held in someone's arms after being neglected by so many for so long.

"Watch your step here, my dear." His voice snapped you out of your thoughts, peering up at him to see this a pale hand was held out to assist you. You gladly took hold of it, fingers grasping his colder ones. Even as he helped you over a few jagged rocks in your path, you weren't willing to let go just yet. Although his skin was cold, his touch felt inviting and comforting.

You didn't want to let go yet.

And it seemed that Karamatsu was overjoyed by this, his eye glistening with a kind of happiness that you had never seen a human hold before.

"A-Are you afraid, sweetheart? There is nothing to fear, not as long as I am here by your side! However, if you wish to hold me tightly, I will never object you!" The slight tremor of nervousness in his words sounded so endearing to you.

"Good, because I wasn't planning to let go just yet."

You had never seen a human wear such a broad and satisfied smile, either. It was contagious, causing you to smile timidly up at him in return.

Eventually, though, your midnight stroll had to come to an end for the both of you. Karamatsu had led you to the beginning of the trail where, just a little further ways down, was a bus stop for you to get home.

"We have arrived, my angel."

"Ah... right," you mumbled, slight disappointment seeping through your tone. Karamatsu chuckled, his cat-like grin widening slightly.

"What is this? Is my fair maiden unwilling to let me go?"

"Something like that..." you mumbled, keeping your face directed towards the ground as you released your hold from his arm. Karamatsu's cheeks bloomed pink, a shade darker under the moonlight.

"A-Ah! Well," luckily, he was able to snap out of his surprised stupor, "Do not be so sullen, my moonbeam!"

'Moonbeam?'

"I'm sure the stars will align once again to reunite us as we journey through our lives together, and one day... One day, maybe..."

His bold tone suddenly simmered down to a gentle murmur, almost lost to the breeze if you weren't standing so close to him. A gentle smile was on his face now, his eyes glazed over in reminiscence of something akin to a far away daydream.

"I hope, one day, our paths cross again, my love."

His cold fingers caressed your own, lifting them up to press a chaste kiss onto your knuckles. It may have been brief, but the cold touch burned itself into your skin, lasting as he slowly, reluctantly, pulled away.

"Have a safe journey home, angel!" He grinned, saluting quickly before turning away, holding his flickering lantern before him to lead his way back into the forest he called his home.

You had no words left in you. They had all been snatched away by his comforting words and soft touches. His kind eyes, his dazzling smile. His glowing aura that led you through the darkness around you.

Ah, but good things never last long for you. You had to leave before you missed the next bus. You had leave this lonely, broken soul behind. Just like how he had no choice but to leave yours.

Turning away, you caught a glimpse of red from the corner of your eyes.

A trail of red spider lilies. Standing tall and blooming where he once stood a moment ago.

'Please... Meet me here again. One day.'

[bts-ficrecs]

Namjoon angst fic recs (no smut)

@ephyra16​​ asked: 

Hey...! Your blog is of so much help to me, thank you for all the hard work you do... I wanted to ask if you know any long Namjoon oneshots or series which mostly have angst but no smut...? Namjoon centered fics are really hard to find. Thanks!!

yes hello for some reason tumblr hates me and idk why everything gets wonky when i try to answer asks so i’m making a new post <3

1) as a jin stan i feel u. is hard to find fics for our mans but that just means when we find one we devour it and cherish it 4 ever lol

2) jsdflajsd you might have more luck asking someone else for straight up angst cause i can barely stomach angst LOL. I tried my best to find some heart breaky fics for you! :”) A majority of these I have not yet read so we will both be riding the emo train together.

As you requested, most of the oneshots are long fics, over 5k but! There are several honorable mentions under 5k are also listed cause they’re great

Thank you for your patience and I’m glad you’re enjoying the fics I reblog! :D so many great stories out there. as always, if there’s a fic that any of you readers think should be on this list lmk!! 🧡🧡 Enjoy!~

 

 

A Little Bit Of Sugar by @lthyl​​

Summary: Namjoon is well aware that some, well actually most people could find his hobby not exactly common, yet he still considers himself to be a man of tasteful words and higher intellect - someone who managed to understand the true, deepest meaning of beauty itself. And so he doesn’t really care if his methods of collecting pretty things end up being darker that expected, once you peek under the surface.

Almost Love by @joonary​​

Summary: You think you’ve got your life all figured out—after all, you found your soulmate already, and you’re lucky enough to have found him in your childhood best friend. You suppose that maybe, now that you’re older, your luck has begun to run out.

Better To Have Loved by @rkivenamu​​

Summary: Love, Namjoon had found, wormed its way though people, consumed them whole until it left nothing of the people they had once been. It became a weapon to be used to wound the other. Love, it seemed, was the worst thing that had ever happened to him.

Bloom by @hobidreams​​

Summary: Family is who you kill for. Who you die for. In this society, you and your kin are shadows, clinging to the darkness to obey orders absolute. But when such orders command you to abandon what little honor remains for wealth and notoriety, you find yourself lost in lonely uncertainty about the only vocation you’ve ever known. That is, until you meet a man with gentle hands, a poet’s heart, and a love for coaxing the world into bloom.

Note: okay, this has smut (there are 2 smut scenes) but… it is too good for me to not add to this list

Breathless by @personawife​​

Summary: Jungkook was eleven when it had begun. At first, he didn’t realize what was happening to him when he had miraculously coughed up a flower petal. He thought that maybe it had accidentally blown into his mouth with the wind, but then he realized that there were no cherry blossom trees around his house.

Pairing: Namjoon x Jungkook

Catching Fire by @namjoonchronicles​​

Summary: “If you didn’t want to go, then you should have told me. I wouldn’t have taken you here.”

Cut by @chimchimsauce​​ (>5k)

Summary: Namjoon always hated soulmates.

Chasing Perfection by @shuaffeine-rkive​​

Summary: Kim Namjoon is the only kid in AP Bio that is smarter than me, and I will make it a point to destroy his perfect record.

Emancipated by @imagniation​​

Summary: CEO!Namjoon is a hero time and time again when your father takes the villain role.

Five Times by @lordofassgard​​

Summary: Five times you wished you never met Namjoon.

Sequel (of sorts): Part 2 - Namjoon's POV

For All the Petals by @rosaetae​​ (>5k)

Summary: A story in which you met him in the spring, fell in love with him in the summer, but he left you in autumn and how you missed him in the winter.

Forget Me Not by @fairyjeons​​

Summary: She fell apart that day. An all white day with crowds of adoring friends and family to see them make the most happiest decisions of their lives, to choose to be together. She chose yes. He chose different.

Ghost In The Machine by @jimlingss​​

Summary: Kim Namjoon is your android that’s modified to become the best serial killer in all of existence. But when he starts to learn about humanity, he begins to threaten your goals.

God of Destruction by @jimlingss​

Summary: Everything he touches breaks; except for you.

Jealous by @btssmutgalore​​ (>5k)

Summary: Namjoon remembered the day you left clearly.

Lit Me Up by @floralseokjin​​

Summary: You find yourself becoming captivated by a mysterious, handsome author, but you may have bitten off more than you can chew…

No Goodbye by @floralseokjin​ (>5k)

Summary: Even if you’re the one who ended things, you can still feel pain. Your heartbreak is valid. Your sadness for the past is a grieving process…

Noble Gain and Loss by @jaeminlore​​ (>5k)

Summary: You are a person of nobility preparing with your tutor for your royal debut. The two of you fall into a forbidden love.

Not The One by @personawife​​ (>5k)

Summary: Maybe you should’ve realized early on then, that something was bound to go wrong. Meeting your soulmate at sixteen and living happily ever after? No one’s that lucky. But you refused to believe anything else.

Paracosm by @jimlingss​ (>5k)

Summary: Namjoon’s always known he was your second choice. He was a substitute for someone who wasn’t there. So when you’re on your deathbed, he intends to reconstruct your memories and remove your regrets.

Press Play by @out-of-jams​​

Summary: You didn’t mean to. Didn’t intend to fall in love with a dying man.

Submerged by @myfeelsinink​​

Summary: Kim Namjoon is the man of your dreams; or rather, from your dreams.

Suspended Soul by @justimajin​​

Summary: A silver ring, a live long promise, and an eternity of happiness. All of which, he had managed to break.

The what Ifs by @ellieljade​​ (>5k)

Summary: You would be able to handle the relationship between Namjoon and your best friend if it weren’t for all those damned “what ifs”

Wishf-oo-l by @sseudanym (>5k)

Summary: To fulfill a good man’s bad dream.

Worshipers of the Soul by @jimlingss​

Summary: The King of the Underworld was denounced and exiled from Heaven as a god. But with your help, he may rise to power once more and claim his rightful throne.

You’ve Got That by @mikrksmos​​

Summary: After making a life-changing decision for your career, you’re unsure of how exactly to bring it up to your boyfriend after your relationship and communication has not really been in sync. Namjoon is ready to take this relationship to the next stage, and he is sure that what he needs to ask you will be the solution to all the problems you have been having. Both know this next move is the right idea, but are unaware of how parallel those ideas really are.

 

 

Confirm Or Deny by @dinoyoongi​​

Status: complete series (6/6)

Summary: You’re a member of the rising group FRNZEE. You’ve been dating Namjoon for years when Dispatch releases an article exposing your relationship. Your company confirms the relationship. Big Hit denies it.

Deeper than Ink by @whoajeon​​

Status: discontinued series (2/?)

Summary: Should you fall in love with someone, even in the slightest, your skin becomes marked with vibrant colors that depict the story of your emotions. A tattoo, per say. However, should they or you fall out of love, the bright hues dull to black and the feelings you once had for each other melt away. To many, it’s a blessing to not have to live with the pain of your past. But what’s the point when you have too many reminders–say 27?

His Deaf Stars by @jooneos​​

Status: discontinued series (1/?)

Summary: When Namjoon turned 20 he had been excited to finally find his soulmate. He hadn’t anticipated that finding them would prove to be such a long journey. Now, more than 500 years later Namjoon still hadn’t found them.

Note: ok, yes it’s discontinued and only 1 part is up but still… please read it. It’s an interesting read regardless!

Inked by @kookswife​​

Status: complete series (6/6)

Summary: The day Namjoon entered your life was the day you were a bit more than utterly fucked.

Monster by @wordycerty​​

Status: ongoing series (1/?)

Summary: Namjoon as a vampire and you’re locked in a basement with him. For you to escape, he first needs to feed.

Noble Heart by @agustkive​​

Status: ongoing series (1/?)

Summary: Unrequited love can destroy anyone, and in a society where it could literally do so, it made it difficult to want anything more. Being among the population with Hanahaki disease, you battled with doing what you loved without actually feeling it. That is, until a new florist by the name of Kim Namjoon came into your life to remind you of what it actually felt like.

Reality by @thoughtssilent​​

Status: ongoing series (11/12)

Summary: Namjoon can’t deal with himself anymore, and to make things worse, BTS is disbanding.

Pairing: Namjoon x OT7

Regrets by @nightbts​​

Status: complete series (3/3)

Summary: When his eyes met yours, you felt your heart squeeze in your chest at the familiar brown eyes that you once used to know at the back of your hand. The very ones you’d wake up to every morning. The very ones that would gaze at you with so much affection as the words I love you spilled past his mouth during the most random moments of your day. It was him, your ex-boyfriend, the very Kim Namjoon.

Solanacea by @softjeon​​

Status: complete series (10/10)

Summary: There was something between them that neither could deny. It was like this from the first day they had met.

Pairing: Namjoon x Jimin

The Heiress’ Son by @jimlingss​

Status: complete series (3/3)

Summary: Love is never enough. It could never feed you, protect you, stop death from taking you. It chains you down. It compels forgiveness unconditionally. It is dangerous. While it is the most intense of feelings, love is not enough and it will never be. Love never helped anyone.

What If I Said by @thoughtssilent​​

Status: complete series (3/3)

Summary: If no one is there for him, Namjoon won't be there for them. Or, a collection of sad stories.

Pairing: Namjoon x OT7

[inviouswriting]

Lich’s Puppet AU

It goes without saying this one is going to be a bit darker.

Mentions - @snow-covered-moon​ ‘s Shuri and polyship with her.

Warnings: I won’t cut these ones because there are some themes here. Mostly forced to drink something, and paralysis, mind control, and body modifications.

Perhaps she was careless, she tends to think she can’t be harmed, yet she still has weaknesses. She is a spirit, and a spirit can still be lured under greater magic to be enslaved. She had thought she had great immunity, that nothing would control her the way Vanth did.

Yet she can’t remember the last time she couldn’t control herself. While conscious of everything she is doing. She knew better than to leave Vanth unchecked, the necromancy in Tam-Tara should have warned her of a presence. That the worse of her nightmares to come again was happening.

His magic still has deep roots within her, there will always be that stain in her as much as her right wing. Her entire body is on fire, it feels like acid slowly eating away at her, the flames of the undead were something she hated. They burned the very soul and scarred it. Her eyes and hair matched the form Vanth wanted.

Skin almost greenish to her brown, lime green eyes and white hair. She isn’t even sure how she was snared. All she remembered was going on another mission for the scions. To check a tower in Coerthas, she could get close without alerting others. Or so she thought.

She had been chased down by a lunar Garuda. She knew the primal was fast, but given the alterations, the lunar alone caught up to her in no time. Kivera looked away from in front of her, till she flew pass the threshold of a tower. She had never been inside them, she felt dread from being in vicinity. Like Vanth’s magic scared her years ago. 

Inside she had seen Ixal trapped to the walls, being used to empower the lunar primal. She keeps her feet from the ground, seeing it as fleshy matter more than an actual ground. She likens it to one of Vanth’s creations. Every part of her screams to leave, but she couldn’t with her exit closed. 

“What a surprise. Who would have thought you would be here.” Kivera freezes down to her spine, her feathers stand on end, bristling at the voice. She knows this voice, deep, hollow and raspy. It does the same thing regardless in chilling her to her soul. 

“What are you doing here...” She keeps her hover even more for fear of what would happen if her feet connect with the ground. She had forgotten about Garuda, it seems the primal disappeared from her entirely, or was laying in wait. She was no longer her worry. What was, is the lich who she had thought she rendered deep in the pit she had made. The furthest deep of Tartarus that she had named it Agitazione, land of the unsuffering dead. 

“Why are you so surprised, you knew you can’t kill me. Even with your awakening. Not even the power you command from above could do anything. I will always come back. It took a bit of time... you left me in ashes.” Kivera turns to see the being. Vanth. He had taken a form that allowed him to blend in with others. An older elezen, with graying hair. He looked like a holy man, but Kivera knew him as far from that. What he did was horrid to both heavens and underworld.

He enslaved the dead as puppets. He led the slaughter on hundreds if not thousands of women and men during the Salem trials, one that she remembers as her first cleanse to end an entire city. She couldn’t touch the souls after Vanth took over their minds. Thanatos had instructed her, nothing good comes from a necromancer, and they did not want the souls tainted by a lich. They could not rest, nor would they ever. They chose blood magic and a great taboo together. Raising the dead is an unforgiveable sin among the underworld, tied in with enslaving the spirits was something that she was specifically trained to take out without hesitation.

Vanth was the reason she had lost two dear to her. Divinity at first when she was human, then Damien. Kivera realizes how in over her head she is. Yet she knows her loved ones, and the allies she has gained would not be able to fight someone like him. Not yet, Kan-E-Senna could, she was blessed in holy and light.

Kivera was not either of those, and she could feel her nerves on fire the longer she is lingering. In her shock she fails to notice the fleshy tendrils that creep up seeking aether energy. Kivera being full of it. All the bits had to do was connect with skin and start leeching her. How lucky would Garlean be if they score her as an ally. A powerful destructive force would raze everything. Vanth knows this, he always knew of her location, she is still a creature of habit, she clings to those that show her love.

Kivera remembers herself, and looks down to see the floor moving, arcing up towards her feet. The ends resembling a swarm of worms, making the reaper feel sick at seeing them move like this. She moves higher, and it is there that Garuda shows herself slamming full force into Kivera from the side, sending her into the nearest wall. 

Kivera is fast to rebound but the walls have that same fleshy material. When she connects many tendrils surge to coil around an arm. Kivera burns them off and kicks her feet on the wall to get away from the, rubbing the others off her arms as they break apart. 

Vanth just stands back to watch, keeping his control on the matter around. The imprisoned ixal reach to grab Kivera whenever she was close. The reaper not having a place to stand or rest without something trying to snare her. It will take one careless mistake on her part. One moment of weakness. Something Vanth knows every being to have. He just had to figure out where she will land to think she is safe.

Kivera fights more with Garuda, sending bursts of fire, while Garuda sends wind. They scrap together, talons and claws ripping at feathers, Kivera burning wings and biting her. Garuda using her feet and claws to grasp her target. She snares Kivera and soon pins her to a wall.

Vanth sees his chance, and swarms the tendrils onto Kivera. Each touched with a bright lime flame. Kivera feels something she hasn’t felt in ages. Pain. Pure pain. The tendrils leech life while replacing with lich flames. The color in her skin greenish but stays brown, the black of her hair turns white, and her eyes that convey her emotions stays a pure bright lime color with a glow to them. She looked the same but altered in her appearance.

Kivera couldn’t scream with the claw around her neck keeping her still. All she could even think was sparing those she loves. She rends her connection to Shuri, Estinien, Divinity and any of the children. Scions, she will never forgive them for sending her on this mission. 

Vanth claps and Garuda lets Kivera down, he tests something snapping his fingers for Kivera to raise her arms. She does, there is a look of horror to her eyes at being controlled. Vanth approaches her and lifts her head. The elezen face he had chosen gives a sneer at such a prize he obtained.

“There we are. What should have happened all those years ago. If only Damien was more compliant, you could have had both, him and this life.” Kivera only glares at him, her face the only thing she has control of. Garuda leaves disappearing now that the threat is over.

Vanth circles around Kivera keeping her standing straight, he notes her glaring. He needs her more compliant. Two ixals approach Kivera from behind and take an arm while Vanth gets her to kneel down. Ignoring the hissing under her breath. She doesn’t take her eyes off of Vanth, unsure of what he is planning to do. He fishes an elixir like bottle off a belt he has, one he has safeguarded for the rare occasion he captured Kivera. 

Kivera tightens her mouth knowing the liquid is for her. It is black in color, and she has seen it work once. When he used it on a maid girl back in Salem. It is to control her, it erases the mind, leaving it blank. Kivera is prided in her strong mind, but even she won’t be able to do much if it is in her system. He brewed it specific for her. A catalyst potion.

“This will go smoother if you comply. Not like anyone is going to come save you from this. By the time they even get news of you missing, you are aware they’re use to you going off and doing your own thing. They also know how powerful you are. They wouldn’t think you would be overcome so easy. Yet you did put up quite a fight against Garuda. But it shows even a god slayer like you can still slip up against them.” Vanth raises Kivera’s head, and she attempts to bite him, he uses the opportunity to hook his thumb into her mouth to keep it open.

Quickly he presses the bottle already opened with a flick of the cork off. Kivera wants to turn her head but can’t from his control and the ixal. The liquid burns, like liquid fire in her body, searing from the inside out. With the bottle emptied and cast off to break somewhere. Vanth waits.

He kneels in front of her. He was always a tall man, he might have chosen a roegadyn for their height better. But they didn’t fit the elegance he still holds. And would have raised suspicions. He had been around since Thordan’s end, leading people to follow him from the outskirts of Coerthas, those that disapproved of Aymeric still to the day.

How easy it is to lure people with the idea he can change things back the old way. Even more when he came across Fandaniel, giving him an idea of how to snare Kivera. Earning an ally through the ascian if it meant she would be dealt with.

Kivera feels white hot through her head, like everything she thought and knew was disappearing. It hurt to think, and it pained her to swallow, she tasted that bitter potion and she wanted to drag her tongue across the dirt. Though the only thing available would have been the fleshy floor of the tower. That disgusted her more. 

Her last thoughts were to her loved ones. Sending apologies through the links as she burns them, her last chance to make sure they are safe.

“I am sorry... for what I am about to do. I have no choice. Please know... that the being that you will face.. is not me. Kill her.” Her laments to Divinity, she relays the same to Estinien, then too to Shuri. She ends the link before she loses herself, severing them entirely. They will feel it, like a piece of them is ripped out. She can see Divinity collapsing into tears, and the confusion on Estinien and Shuri following Divinity. 

Kivera has told them endlessly, that things that a lich touches must be destroyed. That includes. Herself. It means a new cycle of spirits to begin, more tragedies to unfold. Kivera wishes even more that she could have used her former abilities. She lets her last thoughts be of the loved ones.

When she opens her eyes again, she looks up to Vanth. Her voice hollow and echoes in the tower. 

“I am at your command.” One final touch to her, a bone wyvern rests on her. A gift but also a symbiote parasite to keep her under his control. Vanth folds his arms.

“Good, I won’t have you attack yet. We need to wait a little bit per Fandaniel’s request for a better opportunity. Now come with me. We have much to do.” 

[pvremichigan]

Trust My Gut. [Hell Arc Drabble 4]

‘I can’t feel my face.

The redhead ran through the streets, blood being coughed up far too often. She had not yet found her soul and this replacement was slowly killing her. She has no time left, really. Day by day she grew weaker.

‘I don’t know where the fuck it could be. Where would my soul even reside in this nearly endless pit of agony...’

It’s been empty, but cries of the beasts within the realm shrieked out everywhere around her. They’re hiding, and every waking second she dreads the day they all come out. Mich fears it’s the moment she gains her soul...

‘I’ve searched every fucking building, every alley way... Every corner, every street I can find.’

The sounds of her shoes hitting the pavement echoed along the alleyways. The gray hue they radiate from the shadows. No one can truly be sure if the shadows are the alley’s own... There’s just too many of them.

‘A couple days ago, I saw my family. Penny wouldn’t talk to me... She just dragged along weeping into her hands. I couldn’t see her face. Every time I tried to get closer to her, she just ended up turning another corner. As soon as I turn that corner... She’s turning another. She was never running, but no matter how much I ran, I couldn’t catch up to her. I couldn’t reach her. No matter if I ran at her, as soon as my vision was taken off of her, she would be across the street turning another corner. I tried to keep my eyes on her but it never worked. It’s like she was meant to repel and stay away.’

The streets seemed familiar, but yet so uncanny. Some things she just could not recognize, like waking up in a daze where nothing you knew made any sense anymore.

‘Around the same time... I heard screaming in the buildings. I’d look up... And David would be screaming in terror, tears in his eyes as he banged on the windows like he was crying for help. Seemed to be another trick... When I would enter those buildings and reach the floor and exact room I saw him in, he was no where to be found. This place loves to toy with me... Because I’d look out the window and see him in another building, doing the same thing. I should’ve learned my lesson... But I still tried over and over to get him. Sometimes when I’d look out the window, I’d look down to the street... And see myself doing exactly what I had done before I ran into the building.’

‘Terrifying really... Because she’d run into the building... And I could hear the aggressive stomping up the stairs. The more I listened, the more I realized it didn’t sound like me. Sometimes, out of panic... I’d jump out the window after hearing the feral growling ascending the stairs with the pace of a hungry beast stomping as it ran.’

There was a feeling in the air... As if it was calling to Mich without a word spoken. Nothing in this realm was easy to trust, but her gut was clawing at her to follow. Seeing how much time she has left, how little there is, the woman had no choice. Maybe she was getting closer.

Or maybe she was being lured into a trap.

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‘I’ve been mauled for the first time. Killed. Torn to shreds. I couldn’t fight back and I couldn’t even see what was tearing me apart. The pain was unimaginable. It felt amplified from pain in the realm of the living. I felt weak, I felt like I stood no chance here. I screamed.’

The air began to grow colder. The endless buildings that had polluted the streets had grown farther into the background as Mich continued forward. Had she finally escaped that maze of a city? No... No she wouldn’t count on it.

‘I screamed like I’ve never screamed before. The only thing I could compare it to was being restrained by Jack. Even then, that was nothing compared to how I tore my vocal chords apart before the attacker even could. I don’t know why I bothered, I knew even if I could be heard... I wouldn’t be reached. In that moment, I sincerely thought I was done for. Like I failed or something. Like all this was a waste of time, like I lost my final chance. As soon as I let my body give out, I was unconscious. Seemed like only for a couple hours.’

Mich didn’t look too good. She was beginning to rot away from the destruction of her physical being from Xephrel’s soul. It was supposed to protect her... If this was protection, she didn’t want to imagine what this place would be like without the help of his soul. No doubt there’d be no winning for her.

‘I woke up in one of those buildings. I think it was the same building that beast chased me out of. I only say that because once I woke up, I heard the same exact feral noises it made before the attack. Thank god I recognized it in time, I jumped out that window again and ran.’

Her knees almost gave out, she was merely dragging herself along. Despite her weakness, there was no intent of giving up through this suffering. She was planning to keep going even when there’s nothing of her left.

‘I ran. I kept running. I didn’t fucking stop. I kept going until the growling was gone and kept going even in silence.’

The atmosphere grew darker and darker still, the more she traversed the uncanny concrete path forward that resembled the outskirts she lived around. At least there was more familiarity in this area... To recall some of these buildings was a relief, a weight lifted off her shoulders. The more she paused in her steps to remember the neighbors and street signs, the less uncanny it became.

So remembering was the key to piecing the unrecognizable together...

The memories are slowly fading back.

She must be getting close...

‘I don’t trust this place. I don’t trust anyone I come across. Hell, sometimes I don’t trust myself.’

This street... Was there a force of some kind giving her back her strength? What was going on... The sidewalk morphed from a dull gray to the more vibrant tan cement that she was most familiar with. This street... It was too familiar. But the reason for it was the hardest to recall.

‘But even then...’

Looking up and around, there was a light post hovering above the sidewalk. The light shined down on the area. The chain fence to the right side of the fence. Tears pricked the sides of her eyes, the weight on her heart and the tightness of her throat grew stronger and stronger after coming out of no where. It was all so sudden, like drowning in a wave of realization. It hurt, it was torture. The overwhelming flood was too much for her to handle. Her body hunched over as she experienced the same disgusting action as she did before she left. Vomiting up only blood. Nothing else but blood... She took a second to catch her breath, a look of terror on her face as the confusion grew worse and worse until she finally looked up. There... A bright glowing essence hovered over the sidewalk. An essence that Mich felt drawn to. Warm, familiar, like something she had lost long ago.

Her soul.

Behind it stood a familiar face... Green hair, golden eyes, a brown jacket... The tall figure stood and looked down at Mich. The gaze on the mans face was warm and cold all at the same time.

“Ry...”

‘I can still trust my gut.’

[oneirataxxiaa]

WITCHES AND DRUIDS

a little gift for @silverdecepticon93 for their amazing writing. some klarion content!

written by Persephone. Anastasia did some editing and helped me write Klarion correctly. It's a bit of a slow burn, and I probably got some story facts wrong, but I hope you enjoy!

requests are OPEN , remember to specify who you would like to write your oneshot. Anastasia, or Persephone.

• • • •

It's not that the weather wasn't pleasurable, it was, really. the sun was out, reflecting off the oceans subtle waves and warming the grey pavement just enough for beach-goers with no shoes to begin to hop from foot to foot. The wind was perfect, swaying the tall palm trees that lined the coastal road, every now and again, causing a hat to fly off in its cool breeze, making it's owner run after it with calls of protest. A girl in her late teens leaned back on a uncomfortably tacky faux beach chair just outside the open air cafe. Her hair moved slowly, partially from the outside breeze and partially from the squeaking old metal fan making slow rotations just inside the door. It blew no dust, so it was clearly well used considering the heat.

Happy Harbour seemed just that, happy. Everything had been calm the past few months, villain attacks were incredibly low, no major plots had been uncovered, and the group known as The Light was seemingly inactive after the league and teams triumph over them. The lack of attacks had Robin and Kaldur on edge anticipating something being planned in the shadows, but Y/n, Artemis, Megan and Wally had taken the opportunity to enjoy Rhode Island for what it was. In the ginger speedsters words, a paradise just waiting to be explored.

Zatanna Zatura was across the round table from Y/n, in casual clothes with a black baseball cap and a vanilla milkshake in hand, sipping on the straw slowly. Y/n herself had her favourite flavor smoothie resting on the table, her phone in hand as the camera on the device recorded what was happening in the small grass patch to their left. Wallace West swore on his life that he had landed a back flip the day before, which the rest of his friends refused to believe. In trying to prove his ability, he was attracting some strange stares from passers by, and rather ice filled glare from a mother who corralled her three kids, most likely in their early preteens, away, hurriedly muttering about 'unethical teenager'. Quite an interesting thing to be thrown their way, but the teen heroes had had worse hurled at them in their exploits as protectors of justice.

"Wally" Megan laughed, a short snort escaping her lips as she watched the boy try to land another flip. " You're going to break something". The Martian was resting on the grass, watching what was happening unfurl.

"cheers to that! please do!" Artemis' words were filled with sarcasm. The blonde teen making her way towards the table and picking up her drink to take a sip. Wally dropped to the ground again and sprawled out on the grass, crushing the green blades under his body. Y/n cringed slightly.

"you girls are no fun, even Connor is more fun to hang out with, at least he encourages me to improve my wicked moves" Wally pulled himself to his feet with a bounce and brushing off his pants with little success, the mucky dew soaked dirt already staining them brown at the knees. Y/n was glad he did his own laundry, she didn't want to be the one to wash those stains out. The girl stopped the video on her phone with the press of a button, dropping her hand to her side and turning the object off.

"I'd like to argue with that" Connor complained, he seemed to have appeared out of no where, walking towards them, ebony shirt still sporting the superman signal. He seemed a little happier today, perhaps it was the immaculate weather. Y/n reckoned it could put anyone in a good mood, even Connor, who hadn't been as happy has he could have been lately. His relationship with Megan had be strained.

"The man, the myth, the legend, how could you betray me my main man? You're really going to let the girls pick on your best friend?" Wallys drama queen was showing as he rested a hand on his head in a damsel in distress motion.

"Wolf is my best friend, you are" Connor faked a thoughtful expression, "an unfortunate acquaintance". Y/n could see the joking sparkle in Connors eyes. It was strange. Strange, but good. He deserved some joy in these darker days. "anyways, the reason I'm here for two reasons, reason one being because Robin decided to have an identity crisis, he's changing his name"

"Please tell me it's not another bird, I don't want it to be a bird" Artemis groaned, dropping heavily into one of the chairs. It groaned in protest from the sudden and violent weight.

"I don't know what he's gone with, but second reason I'm here is because we've got a new team member, Batman just made a visit and brought someone with him-"

"Batman was at the cave! and you didn't tell me! is he still there?" Wally began to vibrate from excitement, sparks ran down his arms and legs.

"When I left he was, bu-". Wally was gone in a literal flash, leaving the remaining team looking around frantically, glade the citizens of Happy Harbour seemed content in being too interested in their own lives to notice a super-powered boy and his friends.

"we should probably make sure he doesn't break anything, and welcome the new team member huh?" Zatanna said with a sigh, getting to her feet and stretching her arms up, elbows cracking slightly. As the group collected their drinks, waving goodbye to the cafes owner, who they knew well due to their frequent return to the place, Y/n saw something that peaked her interest, making the girl pause and turn towards it.

"Y/n, you coming or what girl?" Zatanna called out. The group somehow was a good ways away from her now, standing, ready to cross the pedestrian crossing at the coastal road. The curious frown on her face must have given something away.

"um, I'll catch up, yeah? say hi to the newbie for me?" the uncertainty in her voice made Zatanna pause, but nod, turning back just in time to walk with the others across the road.

Turning back towards the curiosity, it stared at her with dark eyes, watching her movement. Y/n walked over and bent down, petting the feline behind it's ears, coaxing a purr from the familiar cat-daemon.

"Hello Teekl" the teen greeted, "what are you doing here?" her hand continued to pet the creature, before it shook it's head, pushing your hand away with the action and going to work on licking its paw. Cats were always strange, but she supposed their sudden mood changed were due to their nature.

"I feel like you're just in this for the cute cat" the voice was monotonous and Y/n recognised it immediately. Turning her head slightly, she spied the source of the voice. He looked different, slightly older, taller, and dressed in more civilian esque clothing. Perhaps to attempt to blend in with the surrounding crowds of people.

"The cats a bonus" Y/n gave one final pet to Teekl before walking to the table she was sitting at previously, Klarion Bleak now occupying Zatannas previous location. "How are you? I haven't seen you since the whole light thing". I'd been about five months and the league was still recovering. Klarion got a sour look on his face, pausing, he fiddled with the hem of his shirt, a neat black button up dress shirt. He looked, perplexed.

"I've been keeping my head down I guess, Savage lose his mind after we lost, been hounding anyone who talks to about it" the strange look remained on his face. "I've been banned from annoying the justice brats, no offence, until he comes up with something new"

Y/n dismissed the nickname for her team and frowned herself. "Robins noticed, it's got him freaked out, running crazy circles trying to figure out what Vandal Savage is planning" a small grin rose on her face. Klarion noticed movement, seeing small clovers begin to crawl their way out of the cracks in the pavement. That caused the small smile that few saw to appear.

"your magic is getting better". That was how they met. Before the team. Both of them were young magic users, each pulled down a different road. One good, One evil. But between them there was balance, peace. Order and Chaos meeting in the middle for a calm chat and shared news on a sunny day.

"I've been getting better at it, but there's always room for more practice as Aqualad says" Y/n laughed. Silence entered their conversation. It wasn't awkward however, as it sometimes was among friends or co workers. It was a comfortable silence of enjoying a summers day without the chaos of the world. It be nice if things stayed like that, balanced, forever. But soon, Unfortunately, their friendship would burn and break. Being torn to their sides, ripped from the comforting friendship, forced to fight each other to prove loyalty to each side. No. Order and Chaos were balanced, but wars tended to tip that scale and break it. In the process, something much more important was shattered.

fin

[littlemessyjessi]

Torn: Remus Lupin Story: PS OC: Chapter Two: Bothersome Bella

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Remus Lupin Imagine Turned Story

Re-Written and Edit of an old story of mine I had on Mibba that deserved some more love and attention, lol.

Remus Lupin x Vega Black (OC, OFC, PLUS SIZE OC, PLUS SIZE OFC)

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“If a thing is right it can be done, and if it is wrong it can be done without; and a good man will find a way.” ― Anna Sewell, Black Beauty 

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Chapter Song: “Cowboy Lullaby”: Tim McGraw and Faith Hill

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Vega stood outside of Ravenclaw tower looking at that arrogant eagle door knocker who refused her passage until she correctly guessed the riddle. She'd guessed three times now and each time she was wrong. Now normally, she would've had more patience that than but the last three weeks hadn't been the best for her. Lost and late for her classes because of the moving staircases. Detention for her tardiness. A howler from her Aunt Walburga every single day telling her how upset they were with her sorting.

It didn’t help that she was missing her parents an awful lot. 

It had been years and yet still... she was trying her best to deal with it. 

Relocating was nothing new to her due to change from Tennessee to London...but Hogwarts was different.

At times like this, she just really wished she could still run into her father’s arms. 

Ride behind her mother as they took a moonlight ride on her mother’s mare, Star. 

She missed it. 

She needed it. 

She was dealing with alot.

All the mundane little things of life. 

And many other struggles of the first year. In a few years, this would be comical to her...but not today. So.....she lost her temper. "Piece of shitl!" she screamed hauling back her Charms book and swinging at the entrance. "I hate this! I hate everything! Now let me in so I can go to sleep!" "Vega?" She paused in her assault and looked over her shoulder at none other than Remus Lupin. Of course. Of course it would be him. Why on earth would it be someone else besides her crush? The universe was against her and the little eleven year old girl felt like she was doomed to have Remus think she was mentally unstable. First it was crying over a muggle book and now it was psychotic rage over not being able to get into the common room. "Everything alright?" he asked her cautiously. She sighed, blowing a puff of air out of her reddened cheeks sending a dark curl bouncing in front of her before looking down in shame. "I can't get inside." He almost smiled. She was beating herself up over nothing. Most first years couldn't. Most upper classmen in the other houses would never even have a chance. "Oh, maybe I can help." he offered. "What's the riddle?" "Follower of man, dark as night, a trained choreography, comes after light." spoke the eagle again. Remus tapped his chin. "Alright, follower of man. So it's behind you and dark as night so it's black or at least darker. A trained choreography. Hmmm, we'll come back to that. Comes after light." he rambled. Vega bit her lip, "Ok so something dark that follows you after light....and it's moves. Merlin's beard!" "What?" he asked a little startled by her outburst. She grinned, "It's a shadow!" "Correct. You may now enter." spoke the eagle behind them. She smiled at Remus, "Thank you. I couldn't have done it without you."  He shook his head, "Yes, you could've. You were just frustrated. You're smarter than most adults I know...and you're only eleven."

He bent to pick up her fallen books and peered at the cover, “Black Beauty?” 

”Um, yeah.” she mumbled. “I found it in the common room and I just thought it looked interesting.” 

Remus smiled at her gently, “You like horses don’t you?” 

Vega’s cheeks flushed, “Well, I- I mean my mama - well, I just- just- Yeah.  Yeah I like horses.” 

Remus fought not to smile as she rambled but simply nodded and handed her the book. 

”I like them too.” he said. “They’re gentle giants.” 

”Yeah.” she said hugging the book to her chest. “They’re majestic.” 

”Yeah.” he agreed. “I hope you have a good night, Vega.  Good night.”  "Good night, Remus." she smiled before ducking inside. Remus smiled and shook his head as he carried on his way. He hadn't seen very much of her since the sorting ceremony but she was in a different house and a different year than him. Additionally, she was a first year and apparently a very high strung first year so he didn't hold it against her. He did feel sorry for her. Everyone could hear the howlers her aunt sent her every day. Sure, Sirius had gotten them too and they were much worse for him but.... things seemed to affect Vega a little differently than they did Sirius. Remus went on about his way until he reached the Gryffindor tower and studied in the common room for a little while. Which actually meant he studies while James and Sirius copied his notes. After a while, he went to bed and actually had a fairly restful sleep. You never get him to admit that he had dreamed of Vega. Her curly black hair. Her big grey eyes, silver like the moon. Her full little lips. He'd never admit it but there was a sort of calmness that he got from her. She soothed him. The very thought made him laugh darkly. Of course, soothe the savage beast. At twelve he desperately wanted more friends and was incredibly grateful for the ones he had but...he'd never let himself be anymore social. Because he was afraid of what he was...and what he might do. The full moon was next week and he most certainly was not looking forward to it. The process, the lies, the hiding...any of it. He felt so lousy for lying to his friends like that. He'd done it all of the previous year and he got the feeling that they were onto him...just that maybe they didn't quite know what they thought they knew. The next morning we he awoke, he was alone in the dorm room. It was a bit odd seeing as how it was Saturday. The snores of James and Sirius who always chose to sleep late usually shook the bed. It wasn't all that uncommon for Peter to be up early. He was never one to miss a meal. "Hmm." Remus hummed in curiosity before climbing out and getting dressed. He greeted a few other house meets politely as he made his way out of Gryffindor Tower and down the corridor. His stomach growled and he figured he nip in and see if any breakfast was left in the Great Hall. However, on his way he heard some noise. A bang and then a lot of ruckus. Her recognized the glint of black hair up ahead and could clearly see that Vega lay in a heap on the floor....clearly injured. He ran to her and knelt beside her when he noticed three other girls. He recognized them instantly as the Black sisters. The eldest, Andromeda, had long brown hair and was the most tolerable. She was a Slytherin prefect a few years older than him but she was quite nice and polite. The youngest, Narcissa or Cissy, was a year younger than he, also in Slytherin, and had long white blond hair. He didn't know her very well, only that she was very quite and seemed completely smitten with Lucius Malfoy. The middle child was by far the worst. Bellatrix Black, hooded dark eyes and curly black hair with sharp features. Bella had a mean strike a mile long and she was cruel as they come. She was in his year and it was very clear that she and Sirius hated each other with a passion. And apparently, this included Vega who lay on the ground with cuts all over her and a blossoming bruise on her face. "Bella, enough!" Andromeda threatened. "What?!" Bella sneered. "She deserved it!" "She didn't do anything to you!" Andromeda pressed. "I saw her go for her wand." Bella spat at her elder sister. "If she did it's probably because you drew yours first." Andromeda said sternly towards her sister. "We both know that Vega was minding her own business just reading a book and -”

“A muggle book!” 

“You're being a bully." "And you're a blood traitor." Bella snapped at her sister. "Come on, Cissy." The blond first year followed behind her sister who sneered at Vega, "See you later, cousin." Vega looked down and away from her. When the two of them left, Andromeda knelt down and inspected her young cousin. "I'm sorry, Vega." she said honestly. "You know how Bella is." Vega nodded and winced, "I'm fine. Thank you for your help." She moved to stand only to collapse into Remus' arms. Much to her embarrassment. She turned bright red. Andromeda arched an eyebrow at it but said nothing. She simply picked her cousin up. Since she was a seventh year and Vega just a first year, and a rather small one at that, it was nothing to lift the little girl. "Remus, if you would run along to the Great Hall and tell Professor Slughorn that I need to speak with him in the hospital wing, I'd appreciate it." she told him. He nodded and took off in the direction of the Great Hall. Breakfast long forgotten...as well as the blood on his clothes. He almost hit himself for not realizing because James and Sirius almost attacked him over it. "Whoa, Remus, mate! What happened?" James pressed. "Nothing." he tried to push them off on his way to the Head Table. "Professor Slughorn." he said as he approached. "Andromeda Black has asked me to inform you that she needs to speak with you. She's in the hospital wing." He tried to be quite but Slughorn being Slughorn drew attention to it. "The hospital wing?!" he exclaimed and Remus flushed a little. "Yes, alright, Mr. Lupin. Thank you." And with that he was gone in bustle of robes. When Remus turned he was met with many stares but none so potent as James and Sirius'. He maneuvered around them and headed for the door, his stomach twisted in knots. Two familiar hands came down on his shoulders and turned him around. "What's going on?" Sirius asked him. He looked into his friend's eyes. If anyone deserved to know....Sirius really did. She was his cousin. "It's Vega." he said. The color drained from Sirius' face. "What?" he whispered. "What happened?" Remus glanced around, "Follow me. Not here." James and Sirius exchanged a glance and they followed him outside the Great Hall and down a corridor. Remus sighed, "She’s hurt. Andromeda took her to the hospital wing so I'm sure Madame Pompfrey will fix her up but Bellatrix Black jumped her in the lav." Sirius almost turned purple with anger, "That bitch!" "Is she alright?" James asked. Remus shrugged, "She awake but pretty cut up and she had a bruise on her face when I got there. Narcissa was with Bellatrix but I don't know if she was involved." "I bet she was." Sirius snarled. "She's just like her. She's got her nose shoved so far up Malfoy's arse that she..." "Andromeda broke it up." Remus cut him off. "She took her to the hospital wing and sent me to fetch Slughorn." "I'll kill 'em." Sirius seethed. "Sirius, mate, I know that you're angry but we've gotta be smart here." James reasoned with him. "She's my sister!" he exploded.

“Cousin.” James corrected. 

“Well whatever,” Sirius said before deflating. “Vega never did anything wrong. She's a good girl."

James and Remus could clearly see how he was worried for her. "She's in good hands, mate." James assured him. "Madame Pompfrey is a wicked healer." "And I'm sure Slughorn will do something about Bellatrix and Narcissa." Remus reasoned. "Andromeda seemed determined of that." He had to admit that was quite admirable. Even when she knew there was definite possibility of points being deducted from her own house....still it seemed as if Andromeda's good judgment would way out. "Not good enough." Sirius growled. "Well then." James smiled. "I guess we'll just have to prank them." Sirius grinned slightly in spite of himself, "Well do it for V." "Somehow I don't think she'd approve of you causing mayhem in her name." Remus smirked before adding, "But I'm in."

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Chapter One

Chapter Three 

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Hello my lovelies! Here is another rewrite of a previous work of mine that I had on Mibba! I did a bit of reworking on the character, her name and her backstory because I just felt like she deserved more!  I would love to know what you think of little Vega!

So please comment, reblog with thoughts and/or smash the ask box!  I do so love hearing from you my loves!

Love,

Kenny

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Love, Kenny

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

[quillsareswords]

Crooked Grin

Damian Wayne

Your smile shouldn't look like that.

[Reader lives with John Constantine, and is similarly a demonologist and magic user. About 16-18.]

Prompt List // Masterlist (in bio)

"Are you ready to go?"

You turn away from the book on the table, and face him. "Sorry?"

"Are you ready to leave?" he repeats. He leans against the doorjam, arms crossed, clad in black, much like yourself. He doesn't look impatient, but he does look a little anxious.

You cock an eyebrow and shoot him a lopsided grin. "Nervous, Birdy?"

He rolls his eyes as you snap a leather bound journal shut. "Please, I've assisted you before."

You set the book on your dresser. You shoulder a messenger bag on your way to meet him at the door. "Sure, but you already know what I'm up against this time."

"I didn't see it," he argues.

"But you felt it."

He doesn't answer you. Turns away before you can get a proper reaction.

You shut the door behind you, and enter the Wayne Manor. If anyone were to open the door again, it would be an empty closet.

Ah, how you loved your little door trick.

It was fairly simple magic, something you learned quickly. You could simply replace doors—switch one with another, if you will. With a rune and a mumbled phrase, you can make any door lead to any room that has a door you've marked with the same rune.

"Tim's the one who saw it on CCTV."

You stopped in front if the bookcase in Bruce's office, allowing Damian the grand honor of pulling the right book and pulling the hidden door open. "Video footage isn't exactly trustworthy when it comes to paranormal—haven't I told you this before?"

"Probably," he answers, throwing you comical wink.

Now you're the one rolling your eyes. "One if these days, you're gonna wish you listened," you sing, beginning your decent down the metal grate stairs.

He starts down after you. "No I won't." He slows his pace when he's next to you, "Because you'll be there to remind me." Then off he goes, taunting you to chase him clear down to the cave, through the secret hideout, and clear over to the vehicle bay.

You've never liked riding on Damian's bike. Or Robin's bike, rather. You much preferred his Lincoln, all leather seats and metal walls. Though he insisted it would be faster tonight, so you relented. The bike felt less secure, gave you less of a chance if anything were to happen.

Don't misunderstand; Damian is a fantastic driver. You'd rather him behind the wheel than yourself any day. It's more the people in the city he calls home you don't trust.

You've always had a love-hate relationship with Gotham City. You love the dreary atmosphere, the rainy days. You adore the old buildings and even older libraries. You live for the underground, more-than-human clubs and shops peppered throughout the streets.

You hate the crazed clowns, killer plants, and murderous penguins. You despise the snobby people and jacked up prices. You detest the crumbling ruins left to decay alone. Most of all, you abhor the other side of the coin.

Gotham has no shortage of darkness. In its people, under its streets, below the waters, above the rooftops. Though it sends a shockwave of thrill through you, the danger only you seem to be aware of is forever just around the corner. From ghouls to vampires to demons to dark witches, Gotham is crawling with things darker than its skies.

You, if course, stay in your lane unless absolutely necessary. Demons, ghosts, angels. That's your specialty, after all.

You're who the Bat Gang calls when things get a little too weird. Your father figure isn't one to drop and run at anybody's beck and call (except, perhaps, yours), so you're the one who gets the call first. You don't conplain—you enjoy the practice.

Damian slows and steers the bike off the backstreet, into the tiny parking lot of a little abandoned church. Little, meaning most likely one big room, and maybe a backroom and a bathroom at the end of the building.

He twists the key and silences the engine, one foot anchored on the asphalt, then removes his helmet.

You unwind your arms from his torso, lifting off your helmet as you slide off the machine behind him. You stare up at the stark white building and the wide brown mounted to the front of it. "How long has it been empty?" you inquire.

He dismounts the motorcycle and pockets his keys. His eyes find the same spot yours have: the busted glass of the front door. "Three weeks."

You turn to him, incredious. "Three weeks? Really?" You face the building again, studying the sprawling vines and waist-high grass by the playground, the chipping paint and the grimy windows.

In the light if dusk, it wasn't a place you'd want to find yourself on any Sunday morning.

"Three weeks," you breathe. You steal another minute or so to run through your mental database. What causes such decay so quickly? What was powerful enough to take residency in a church?

You head up to the doors, treading over busted asphalt and shattered glass and dry leaves on your way. Damian follows you closely, peering around at the surrounding buildings and streets.

The streetlights flicker on behind you, but you're too busy trying to get a good look at the inside before opening the doors to notice.

You try the handles first. It doesn't budge. You don't want to risk irritating whatever is inside before you're ready, so you duck down and carefully slip through the bottom pane of the left door, which had been shattered. Outwardly, you note. Whatever broke the glass came from inside, leaving the shards of glass scattered on the sidewalk.

Damian hesitates before he follows you. His muscles tighten the moment he crosses the threshold.

Beyond a short hallway consisting of three flimsy doors, you find the sanctuary. It's laden with over turned or broken pews, stained red carpet, and papers and pamphlets scattered all around.

Damian joins you in the middle of the isle a moment after your entrance, footsteps muffled by the thick red carpet. "The two doors on the end of the hall are bathrooms. I didn't see much there, besides some blood splatter in one of the sinks."

You nod, gaze shifting around the alter. "What about the far end? Have you been in that one yet?"

"No," he answers, "but if the other two were bathroom, it's most likely an office or a kitchenette."

You point to the far end of the sanctuary, at a door looming in the corner. "That's the office, I bet." You turn to face the entrance doors. "Let's check the door in the hall first, that one over there's giving me a bad vibe."

He follows you to hall, but you make him wait by the sanctuary doors.

When you nudge open the ajar door with the toe of your boot, Damian's suspicions are confirmed. A slim white refrigerator, four feet of vinal counter top, and a shallow sink. The only thing out-of-the-ordinary is the rancid stench and the cock-eyed chair by the window.

You dig out a maglight from your messenger bag and click it on. Light floods the dim room as you wave it around, gliding over counter tops and in open cubords. "Nothing in here," you report absently, fingers hooking around the refrigerator handle. You yank it open, just as a precaution.

You gasp suddenly, more out of shock than fright. You puff out your cheeks with the excess air, staring down the red and white mess caught in your flashlight beam with high eyebrows. "Found what's making that smell."

"What?" Damian stalks into the room, posture tense and guarded.

You press the door closed to save him the scaring image of three dead, mutilated chickens and a severed cat head. "Some sacrifices, apparently. Looks like they've been in here for a few days, maybe. A week, at the most."

He tries to look again, but you slam the door too quick and push him out of the room.

You know he's seen far worse, and frankly so have you, but one less thing to pop up in nightmares could make all the difference.

The pair of you make your way back through the hall and down the sanctuary aisle, to the flimsy wooden door at the very back, behind the podium and the alter.

However, your gait hitches a few feet yards away. You stick out your arm to stop Damian.

He looks to you for an explanation, but you don't hear his question.

You're too busy skimming the room with your eyes. The air seems to cool around you, raising the hairs on the back of your neck. You mentally recite the hand motions and spell for a barrier rune, just in case.

The streetlight outside flickers six times exactly, before it goes out completely.

The room is considerably darker now, leaving shadows to dance upon every wall, to whisper in your ears, to nip at your ankles.

Your growing paranoia gets the better of you, and you jump closer to Damian as your light darts in the direction of quiet crunch, eyes narrowed.

A gray cat scurries out of the way of your light, skinny and panicky.

You exhaled slowly, light beam passing through the room one more time before you turned back around.

Damian knows better to comment on it. Not that he would have—he just thanks his lucky stars you jumped, too.

You hook your index finger with his before you move forward, beam still highlighting all areas within close proximity to the door.

Shielding rune and defensive spells fresh in your mind, you waste no time in opening the door. You bypass the formality of the knob this time, and decide instead to kick it wide open.

The handle crashes against the wall, thundering echo bouncing trough both rooms. You search the ceiling thuroughly before entering, sure to hit every inch of the textured surface with the beam of your light.

When you are confident there's nothing hiding there, you move past the threshold cautiously. As you tightly swing your light around the room, a story unfolds.

This room, that appears to an office with cheap bookshelves of holy literature and a desk right out of an Ikea magazine, more closely resembled a warzone. Books strung throughout the room, some flipped over, some split open, some with pages in taters, and some with their covers ripped clean off.

The windows on the north and west side are so thick with spiderwebbing fractures, neither of you are able to see through them properly. The carpeting is shredded in random places, as if wild cats had been set loose to ruin it. You look back to the windows, at the curtains, and wonder if that could possibly exactly what's happened here. But with a spotlight on the paintings and pictures on the wall, you decide that cats have nothing to do with it.

You approach one of the paintings slowly, light focused on the face of what you guess is Mother Mary. Your mental check has you listening to Damian's boots crunching on discarded pages as you observe the hollow place where her face should be.

"Look at this."

You turn away from the image at Damian's call. You find him in you beam, crouched in the middle of the room, hunched over an open book, his micro light poised between his thumb and his index finger.

"What is it?" you inquire, crossing the room to lean over his shoulder.

"There are words written in this one." He points to the red, black, and blue circles highlighting specific words.

"It was very swift?" You squint at the page. "Why would you use three different pens for that?"

He shakes his head. "We're investigating a possible demon and you're questioning why somebody would use different pens in a book?"

You roll your eyes once again. "Firstly, you should always assume poltergeist before demon, and secondly, who do you know that would make any kind of mark on a book in a church?"

"Point taken." He stands, waving his light around by the wall you'd come in by. "Closet."

You turn again to find where his light is pointed. "Awesome," you heave, stalking toward the feeble sliding door. You motion Damian away from its direct path, positioning yourself on the opposite side.

In one swift motion, you jerk it open.

"Shit!" You jump away as a man falls out, his head hitting the floor with an awful thud.

"I really hate closets," you hiss, pulling the high neck of your shirt up over your mouth and nose, the stench tumbling out with him.

With his shirt fitting the way it does, Damian is left only with a sneer and his hand.

You narrow your eyes and refocus your beam on the mystery man. With your boot, you roll him over.

Black button down, white collar, brass belt.

"Preacher," you announce. You take a closer look at his face. Bald head, strangely proportioned features. "A weird one, though. Looks more like he belongs in a trenchcoat at a playground."

Damian nods, fearing that if he opened his mouth, he'd have to taste the smell of rotting skin.

"What exactly were you doing here, buddy?" you ask aloud, half expecting an answer. When none comes, you look to Damian again. "I would say it was just straight up murder—maybe a robbery-gone-wrong—but this guy doesn't have any marks.

A look passes over your face, as if you've just reminded yourself of something. "Get me a pencil off the desk."

Damian creeps the short distance back through books and scattered paper in the now pitch black room, relying heavily on his tiny (yet impressively bright) flashlight to keep him from tripping on anything.

At the desk, he reaches across it for a pencil from a plain white cup, but stops short when his gaze snags on a book spread open there.

Thick black lines scrawling across thick, yellowing paper that alarmingly resembled dried skin, thin and black red letters in a language he only vaguely recognized. He could only guess a few words; that one could be blood, this one might be chicken, over there could be human. He knows better than to touch the book at all.

He returns to you quickly, though you're already looking at him. He holds a sharpened No. 2 pencil out to you. "When you're finished with him, there's something you should look at."

You accept the pencil, flipping it in your hand so you were using the eraser for whatever you were planning to do with it. "What is it?"

He watches you gently press the eraser to the preacher's eyelid. His brows furrow, but he doesn't ask. "It's a book. The pages don't look like paper, and I don't recognize the language. It's partly Latin." He grimances as you carefully push one eyelid open. There is no eye, only a round black, coal-like stone. "And some runes, or something alike."

You turned to look over your shoulder at him. "Really?" You look back down at was once an eyeball. You're quiet during your examination, poking your way all around the poor man's face.

Damian stands at the preacher's opposite shoulder, watching from above. He doesn't ask what you're looking for. As whip smart as he is and as quickly as he learns, he gets lost in the centuries-old homemade terms and lack of scientific logic.

Finally, you stand. "He's been possessed," you concur. "The skin's gone cold, so it's been a least a week. And the rot in his mouth is pretty progressed, so it's probably been a little over that." You meet his eyes in the dark, as if you're expecting something.

"I don't have any intent to ask, beloved."

You bob your head with a little smile. "Fair enough. Desk, then?"

"Desk."

You follow him back across the room again. You lean over the surface, pointing the wide beam down on the old book. You kept attentive to how close you were to the edge of the desk, as well as how far your many necklaces and bracelets hung above the miscellaneous items and papers strung about the flat wood.

"This is an old language, one of the original ones the first demonologists and occult studiers used to record everything and communicate with each other—"

"Why did they need a separate language?"

You kept your gaze focused on the open page. "Most serious demonology—outside of Bible stuff—and focused paranormal study started around the same time people were called witches for curing sicknesses, Dame."

"Ah."

"Anyway, I'll stop boring you with the history lesson. It's basically a mashup of Latin, Greek, and little freestyling."

"Can you read it?"

"Yeah, I read stuff like this in the House Of Magic's library pretty often. It's similar to what is used in modern day demonology."

You squint down at the page, scrutinizing the dull lettered lines. Damian noted that you weren't blinking.

"It's . . . It's labeled as an invocation, but it's a summoning." Your eyebrows gather above your nose. "Which is pretty obvious, considering–"

"(Y/N), as much as I adore hearing you talk about the things that interest you, what exactly does it summon?"

You fall silent, eyes darting further down the page, to the two intricate symbols scribed there. Finally, you announce, "Crossroads demon—for making deals. But it doesn't make sense, because crossroads demons don't need this much, uh, drama."

"What does that mean?" A creak echos from the sanctuary. He moves quickly and quietly, back to the door to see what's caused it.

You speak a little louder to be sure he can hear you. "Well, a crossroads ritual is so much simpler than this, and you don't need any kind of rune, symbol, or anything, really. As basically as I can put it, you put a box in the dirt and beg for it to work." You grab your longest necklace in your hand and pull it away from the desk, allowing you to lean closer to the book without the programed stone touching the desk. "And this right here would mean–"

You eyebrows unfurrow immediately. That would mean I summon thee to take my soul. Your eyes dart wildly across the page, rereading and rechecking every letter of the old text.

That isn't the right center for a crossroads demon.

You mentally run through everything but of information you'd compiled since last night, when Tim had shown you the footage.

You bounded down the stairs, Damian on your heels, as you chattered on about Constantine's rotten habits and The House's typical invasions of privacy.

"Speak of the devil." Tim throws you a cocky, yet oh-so-tired grin.

You jump the last three grate steps, landing with a hard thump on the cement. "Close, but not quite," you laughed, sauntering over to join him at the massive blue screen. "What can I do for ya, Trombone?"

His eyebrows slant together in annoyance at the aged nickname. You try to play a trombone one time—one time. "Found this yesterday," he grits. His pinky tags the tab button, just as Damian joins you.

The black and white CCTV clip is taken from a security camera, focused on the building across the street. Nothing seems to be happening.

You lean closer to the screen. Maybe you're missing something? You doubt it's a prank, considering the last time they tried to jumpscare you. Your gaze bounces around to all the windows and the doors, the dark corners and the shadowed strips.

Then, out of the blue, the three streetlights bordering the parking lot and accompanying sidestreet flicker off. Then on again, then off.

You blink. Squint. "Rewind it."

The footage speeds backward a few seconds, then takes proper motion again. You focus on the windows. A shadow moves just inside the door. "Right there," you point at the glass entry doors. "Go back and watch the edge of the left door."

The accelerated decay of the property.

The dead animals in the kitchen.

The intact cross.

The flickering streetlight.

Possessed priest.

This is for something far stronger.

You pull away from the table and shoot forward, nearly tripping over an outstretched arm. "Damian!" you bellow, stumbling out into the sanctuary.

He's halfway down the isle, flashlight swinging to face you in surprise. "What?"

You run through the room to close the gap between you, beam of light cutting through pitch black empty space, peeling back inky air from the ruined room. Paranoia swells in your chest, knowing something was looming in the shadows so close to him.

He subconsciously reaches out and grasps your arm. "What's wrong?"

You're still steadily searching the room with your light. "It isn't a crossroads demon, it's worse, it's bigger, it's meaner. We should go back to The House, regroup, get some tougher stuff."

"What do you mean?" Now he's skimming the room with his light. "What is it?"

You shake your head. "That's the bad part, it wasn't specific, so I don't know for sure."

"For sure. What do you guess it is?"

"Educated guess?" You flick your light behind you. "Fourth ring—bad news."

"Aren't all demons bad news?"

"Not the ones you can reason with."

You both spin on your heels to face the crashing commotion by the entrance. Your light caught it just in time to see pages settle on the ground around a newly over turned pew.

"We're leaving," you state firmly, pushing against Damian, a silent order to move your ass.

His light must have hit every edge of the room as he creeps forward, step by step, toward the entrance of the sanctuary. You walk backward behind him, keeping your eyes from settling on one thing for too long.

When the pannel doors slam shut with enough force to knock the remaining photographs and painting off the wall, you feel the pressure of Damian not only stopping, but jerking back a step against your back.

Your beam settles on the office doors. "The doors shut?"

"Yes."

"Did you hear the lock?"

"Watched it."

"Fuck."

"Shit."

You move your beam to the podium. Then the fractured statue of Jesus nailed to a cross on the furthest wall. The head and arms had been broken off, laying sadly at his sides.

"Damian?"

"Yes?"

"We're going back to the office."

"Obviously." He spins around to stand at your side. "I'm far more comfortable with the remains of the living than the presence of the dead."

"Not really the dead, but I know what you mean."

You lead the way down the main isle, light skimming and skipping through the room as you went. You listen intently, for any sound that might tip you off to intentions or locations. Demons lower (or higher, depending on how you looked at it) than a Sixth Circle require a body to walk the living plane. If you're right, there must be a form of some kind around here some place. A physical body.

You reach out absently, hooking your index finger around his pinky. You've had people and things snatched away in silence before, and you weren't about to let it happen to Damian.

He doesn't say anything. No typical snide remarks or well thought jabs. The first few times he'd accompanied you to an exorcism or a hunt, he'd been just as cocky and arrogant as the day you met him. He'd laughed when you whipped out a canister of table salt.

The third time, though, he'd been pinned to a wall by something he couldn't see or feel. He couldn't fight it, couldn't intimidate it, couldn't distract it.

He never mocked a thing about your practice after that.

Another crash echoes from the left side of the room, drawing both of your attention. Your light finds the broken crucifix, now toppled over and laying across the podium it knocked over on it's way down. Your light lingers.

"Go ahead into the room," you poke a thumb in the direction of the open door. "Set Carl back up in the closet, if you don't mind."

"Carl?" Damian edges his way back to the open door, using your favorite tactic of keeping an eye on him. If he was still talking to you, odds are, he's just fine.

"Yeah, I named the poor guy. Didn't want to offend him with that dead dude on the floor." You creep closer to the crucifix.

"And you chose Carl because. . ?" he pushes the door the rest of the way open, the creak bouncing off the walls, throwing the sound in every direction.

You kick a shredded Bible out of the way. "Just what came off the top of my head," you answered honestly. You shift your gaze from the broken religious symbol to the surrounding area, just to make sure.

"What about Davis?" He sets his little flashlight between his teeth to free his hands. He hesitates, but hooks his hands under the dead man's shoulders, grips his shirt, and lifts him back to a near-standing position.

"No way, look at the stubble of his chin. No Davis would let it get that bad."

He stuffs the body back into the closet with as much grace and pride as he can manage. He shoves the door shut double checks the latch to make sure it doesn't swing open with the added weight. "Mark?"

"No way." You nudge the wooden cross with the toe if your boot. It must weight at least seventy pounds, and it from the six inch industrial screws on the back of it, it was bolted to the wall. "Not with hair that thin."

He shakes his head. What to talk about now? "Find anything out there?"

"Not yet." You crouch, running a hand over the carved robe.

He sweeps the room with his light again. But this time, it catches on the farthest corner from the door.

His heart leaps. His spine stiffens, his blood runs cold.

It's staring right at him.

His mind reels, grappling for something—anything—you've mentioned about dealing with a demon face to face.

He's panicking. Why is he panicking? He works well under pressure, one might even say best. Why now? He feels terror grip his heart, and his breath is coming and going in short, silent bursts. Terror floods his mind—but why?

Why, why, why?

He was raised for this sort of thing, groomed for it even. He's never reacted this way before–

It's a demon, he reminds himself, through muddied thoughts of escape plans and defensive manuevers.

It's got to be messing with him. He remembers you mentioning things like this, both in idle conversation and over sparring.

He does his best to push it away, keep the blood rushing in his ears at a manageable level.

What does he do?

Does he yell for you? Will that startle it, or push it to action? Should he make a break for it? Is there even a chance he could get to you before it gets to him?

What if he takes you from the equation entirely? What can he do? Can he hit it? He can see it now, mostly, at least. What about shielding himself?

"Damian?" Your voice sounds like church bells ringing on a dark and foggy morning.

There's his out, if all else fails. You'll be coming to check on him in a few seconds if he doesn't answer, and he's finding speaking more difficult than usual anyway.

He tears his eyes from the piercing red and orange globes hanging in font of a foggy face. An old, dogeared bible lays on the floor. Surely that would do something.

"Hey, Dame. Everything good?" He doesn't hear anymore movement from you. You sound more focused. "Damian?"

He holds his breath. Counts to five. Releases. Counts to five. Another breath.

"Damian, I swear if you're just too focused to listen to me. . ." Your warning trails off as you draw closer. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees you moving around the corner, coming through the doorway, and then you stop.

He doesn't look away from the thing in the corner. He knows you're looking at it. He knows, because you haven't called his name again.

He nearly jumps and your voice, cold and level. "You nasty bastard."

The thing's glittering orange irises slide slowly to you. The rest if it doesn't move.

He takes the diverted attention to get a better look at it.

It looks like a man—all the pieces are there, the arms, the legs, the hands, the feet—but it just looks wrong. Like. Poorly designed animated character that was meant to resemble a real person, but was just off enough to be nearly unrecognizable.

And the face. It was distorted in an indescribable way. He could almost pick out the details—a nose, a mouth, even eyebrows—but it was like they were just out of sight. Like looking through a foggy mirror, but the air was perfectly clear.

"What brought you to Gotham, then?" you question.

Damian tries to sneak a step backward. You're only a few feet away, and if he can get to you, you'll be able to tell him what to do. Give him something to hit with.

Unfortunately, the discarded papers and books scattered along the floor expel any and every chance of stealth he thought he had.

Orange irises flicker yellow and snap back his way, and he finds himself unable to look away. Panic is starting to rise again when you take two daring steps sideways.

"Hey, what the hell, man? We were having a conversation, you know. It's rude to look away when someone's talking to you." You're only a foot away from blocking him entirely.

It's eyes are back on yours now.

"As I was saying, what brought you 'round this side of town?" Damian sees your hand sliding into your back pocket. "Thought you'd be up in the skyscrapers, ya know, with the big dogs in fat ties with fatter checks." You slide on a pair of knuckles.

Damian shifts his weight. You're about to charge it, he can read it from your body language. As loudly as his instincts are screaming, he knows he'll only be in the way if he stays where he is. His best bet is to at least get out to the sanctuary, so you can get your job done without worrying about where he is.

You're both silent for exactly two seconds. Muscles curled tight, like wild animals waiting for the right time to strike.

Then, in barley a blink, you're leaping forward, words of a dead language flying off your tongue, bring orange shapes he doesn't register encasing your hands. He's swerving behind you, slipping on papers in his rush for the door.

He speeds around the first row of pews, and takes the farthest left right isle. He makes it to the double doors at the back of the room, before discovering that the doors are still very firmly locked. Thankfully, the doors were cheap and easily gave way to Damian's forceful convention.

He shoves one side the rest of the way open, and discovers exactly why such a task was so difficult in the first place.

The dining table from the kitchen had been lodged in the doorjam.

He blows out a breath when the leg catches on the wall of the hallway. It's not going to open without shattering that table leg, which he doesn't have time for.

You let out an angry shout, shoving forward the spinning, glowing sigil you're using to shield yourself from the demon's razor-like fingertips.

You thrust it through the doorway of the office, quickly pinning it down on an upright pew.

Damian swears under his breath and ducks past the doors, opting instead for a more stable place to hold his ground, should things get as bad as they were looking.

The room is nearly pitch black, both his and your flashlights abandoned in the office, providing the smallest amount of light to the most obvious parts of the room. The only other sources of light are your magic and your eyes, both a mesmerizing shade of dark orange, glowing fiercely in contrast to the stale dark air surrounding you.

There were times when those glowing irises were a calming, steadying presence; something to lean against to keep himself grounded.

This is not one of those times.

At the moment, he's hunkered down behind a church pew, waiting for you to tell him to do something, watching sparks of magic fly around the room as you battle against a demon you weren't entirely prepared for. The great room is filled with encantations in a language he doesn't care to understand and ungodly shrills and growls.

Then, he hears a pained shriek so deafening and strangely pitched, his hands involentarily fly up to cover his ears.

The room goes quiet and still, papers settling back on the cheap red carpet, dust finding it's way back down to the wooden surfaces.

He peers over the edge of the church pew once more, eyes flicking through the whole room in a near desperate search for that orange glow. It couldn't have been you that made that noise, could it?

Finally, he finds two tiny, bright orange circles flickering around the room as well. The palms of your hands still have a soft glow to them, in the fuzzy outlines of your veins.

"Damian, where'd you go?" Your voice is level—you aren't worried. You know he didn't go far enough that you couldn't be heard.

It always left him just a bit tender in the chest when you reminded him just how well you knew him. "Right here," he beckons, straightening out and picking his way back across the room to the doors, where the dim beams of the streetlights out side have away his outline.

You start up the isle immediately, eyes still piercing the darkness. "Do you want to go get your light?"

He doesn't answer you right away. "My–? No, I have more at home. What happened to the demon?"

"Killed it," you answer dryly. "Or mostly did, anyway. Either way, we better go before we find out."

He's about to follow you back up the rest of the way to the doors, but stops halfway. "Wait, I do need something from that office."

You turn to ask what is, but he's already running back down the main isle. Your grip tightens on the strap of your messenger bag, the same strap that had been sliced in two at some point during your little skirmish. Eyes dart around the great room. You raise your maglight again, and click it back on. You'd gotten yours from the office, but Damian's was too small for you to waste much time looking for it. You point it after him, and when he vanishes into the mostly dark room, you direct it to the darkest edges of the room. When you're satisfied, you pinch the light between your jaw and your shoulder, drop your bag, and set your hands to work with moving that blasted table out of the way.

You've just about got it completely clear when the sound of the office door reaches you. You turn halfway, just to check. And then, your heart drops along with your flashlight. It feels like the floor's given out from under you when your light catches him.

You start to shout, but the words get caught in your throat. Your hands twitch and suddenly the world seems like it's slipped into slow motion.

Then, your knees are bending and the rubber soles of your boots claw against the carpet. Your rushing toward him, but it doesn't feel fast enough.

Faster, faster, faster.

Your heart is palpitating and your mind is reeling already, and all you can hear is the premonition his screams.

You come to a near-screeching halt in the tiny space between your lover and the charging black mass, fully intending to push him clean to the exit, eyes hardly focused before it happens—

Something hits you, hard, fast, and cold. Your eyes roll back and ice shoots through your veins, you can feel it, and the pain is overwhelming as you stumble backwards with the world spinning around you and—

Damian feels it in his chest before he sees it. Heavy and tight. He spins around, though it takes a measure of courage and willpower, because he has a feeling he knows what's happened, but he doesn't want to see it.

You're a few feet away, crumpled, hunched in on yourself as you sit on your knees, between two intact pews. Your back heaves with every strangled breath. Your hands are out of view, pressed firmly against the rough red in front of you to anchor yourself.

"(Y/N)?" He braves a step or two forward. "What happened?"

You don't answer.

Chills rush over him in waves. The temperature in the air hadn't been in any way warm to begin with, but his breath billows out into the stream of light from the flashlight he'd managed to pick up on his way out of the office. He tries your name again, and this time, you side to your feet.

You don't stand, mind you, so much as levitate gently until your feet are beneath you. You turn very slowly, with jagged and barely controlled movements.

You grin widely at him, but it's crooked and too sharp at the ends. It reaches tour eyes, sure, but really wishes it didn't.

Part 2; but I can't link it because Tumblr is still being a bitch with links. I am so sorry. If you go to profile, it should be the first post until further notice. 🙄

because Tumblr apparently has a limit of 250 text blocks per post

[dragonrajafanfiction]

Call of the Blood

The morning light shined through the window and sparkled in Meixiu’s earrings. She sat at the vanity while Chu Zihang, laying in his pajamas, split his attention between watching her and reading the morning newspaper.

“So, today’s the meeting.” He hummed.

“Mmhm!” Meixiu said brightly. She turned to him, her shining smooth braids partially coiled up on her head. “Jealous?”

Zihang didn’t look up, turning the page. “No. I’m... more curious than anything.”

“In any other context, that would sound unfeeling. Most men would have objections to the love of their life dressing up and heading out to meet with another man.”

“I don’t forget that you’re only half human. I’m not Caesar.” He his golden eyes met her deep brown ones. “The effect of dragonblood on hybrid social relations is something I’ve always been interested in. How do hybrids fall in love...You say that he means something to you, I mean something to you... and you still won’t tell me what you do when you visit Lu Mingfei. Just what is love to a hybrid with blood as pure as yours?”

“So you want to study me?” Meixiu folded her arms over her chest and lifted her chin, smiling.

Zihang looked her up and down, from her smooth brown legs, up to her small chest and her athletic arms and shoulders. “Always.”

She glanced away, her cheeks growing a little darker. “Flirt.”

“I’m serious. I’m not the only one. It’s actually poorly studied....”

“Shhhh... don’t ruin it!” She stood up. “I don’t know when I will be back. I don’t know what he wants to talk about.”

“I have a few guesses.” Zihang turned back to his newspaper. “You’re the unpredictable one.”

She leaned over and kissed his cheek. “I’ll call you when I’m on my way home. But my phone will be off.”

She turned and walked away. Zihang watched her go.

She didn’t take the car, stepping out onto the street. The distance from her Chicago townhouse to the lakeside was substantial, but the energy afforded her by her dragon blood made the distance not so daunting and would give her a chance to think. Without a mission, without the school, without danger, Meixiu just liked being another person on the street, observing other people.

She watched people as they sat with a sign, begging for handouts, or pushing strollers, walking dogs. Everyone had their own life routine but in the end it was all the same -- gather money to buy necessities.

The summer air of the city was heavy with humidity. As she continued to walk, a sheen of sweat appeared on her bare skin. She started to notice that she was being stared at, being followed by a pale skinned man with some brown stubble.   .

“Hey baby. Where you goin’?”

She honored the creep’s eying her with a confident yet challenging smile. There was a time when she would have been afraid of people like him. But by now, she was accustomed to being viewed as a golden apple by far more dangerous people.

Meixiu, like many hybrids, had her genetics to thank for being outside the money making machine. Her genetics were so stable and contained so much dragon DNA that she was sought after the same way a purebred champion showhorse was sought after -- for breeding.

A man, an evil man, paid millions of dollars for just for a few of her egg cells. She was nothing but an object to him and so were her children. Strange how, at that time, she had never felt so valuable and yet so worthless.

The man following her had no idea. He hung back, his lustful stare fixed on her. Perhaps he was waiting for her to turn into an alley or an opportunity to grab her and assault her. She made a wager with herself. She still had two miles to walk. She would see if he could follow her halfway. After all, there was that whole method of walking to hunt after prey and tire them out that ancient hunters used in the wild lands.

She smiled to herself. He had no idea he was following a little Energizer bunny.

She stopped at a crosswalk and he stood far too close to her. He looked around. Was he feeling guilty? Checking for cops? Or was he looking for other creepers to warn them off his chosen prey? “If I googled Crimestoppers, will your name come up?” She asked.

He didn’t answer.

She looked up at him, silently laughing at him behind her eyes while he pretended he totally wasn’t doing what he was doing.

Much to Meixiu’s disappointment, he didn’t follow her across the street. At least when he was accosting her, he wasn’t bothering a weaker person. Maybe he thought that she could be a cop? She puffed out her cheeks, weirded out by her own feelings. Without the creeper, she suddenly felt a little bored and annoyed.

It had been ages since she had felt any sense of danger. After running for her life and fighting to survive, even the slight thrill of a creeper following her brought back that familiar adrenaline.

Eventually, the dark water of the lake over took the city horizon. Greenspace and parks and the cool moist wind breathed life into the concrete jungle. White spires of sailboats cruised like swans behind the thick nautical ropes that blocked off the jogging trail from the riprap.

As soon as she arrived at the water’s edge, she was joined by a tall figure. She turned her head up to look at him and grinned. “Hey there stranger.”

Chisei Gen removed his sunglasses. His skin was a little darker, a sign that he was truly living his dream on French beaches, but he still had the same serious air. He was wearing his dark black windbreaker. He turned to look down her at her. And then he smiled back.

“There was a time...” He said, quietly. “When you would have cowered in terror of me. And now you greet me like this? I still can’t get used to it.”

“You should visit more often then.” Meixiu leaned against the ropes.  “When you called me out of the blue, I thought someone died.”

“You didn’t tell anyone I was here?”

“Of course not. But you know I can’t hide anything from Zihang. He’s the only one who knows. So... that means you can come for dinner!”

Chisei was silent a moment. Zihang and Chisei weren’t the closest of friends - that honor went to Gattuso - but Zihang had a pleasant open minded curiosity and innocence to him that she knew he found refreshing.

There was nothing cynical or jaded about Chu Zihang.

“I’m afraid I must decline. I have to remain separate from the secret party for the safety of the world.”

“You’re not a threat to the world, Chisei. You protected it.”

“I’m afraid I can’t agree, but that shouldn’t surprise you by now.”

Meixiu swallowed her disappointment. The rise of a bloodline of superhybrids, those who could over come the blood threshold and keep their sanity, could easily become the rulers of the world and dominate all hybrids with an iron fist. She knew that Chisei would never do that. But what about his children?

His grandchildren? His great-grand children?

As far as Chisei was concerned, he was a monster who needed to go extinct.

She sighed. “So what brought you all the way down here? What’s going on?”

“That’s what I’ve come here to ask. Your research into a treatment for the unstable is bearing fruit. Attacks by unstable hybrids and sightings of deadpool are at their lowest ever recorded.”

“Chime contacted me to tell me that for the first time, he’s had less than a dozen new students at his school for the unstable. And yet, the Devil Clan members still produce unstable children. It’s like... they’re disappearing.” His eyes took on a hard stony edge. “I want the truth, Meixiu...”

“If you’re thinking you’re going to dig under the Cassell college and find a Deadpool spawning tank, I can assure you that’s not the case.”

“No, I’m thinking something far worse.”

Meixiu’s hands tightened on the rope and then relaxed. “I’m not Herzog. What are you implying?”

“Everyone knows that Deadpool and unstable hybrids turn into servants of dragons. Everyone knows of your high level dragonblood. You look sane, you look healthy... but the call of the dragon will be more powerful to you than to anyone else.”

Meixiu felt her pulse start to race. “The Executive Department has not detected a dragon heartbeat in years.”

“Strange that.” Chisei continue to stare at her. “I used to lead the Executive Department in Japan. I know how deadpool work. Cassell has a higher level search network than Kaguya, but suddenly their searches come up empty? It was too strange for me to ignore.”

“So I took matters into my own hands. I’m sorry, Meixiu. But I followed one of the hybrids that failed in her rehabilitation. She got on a boat, heading towards an island owned by Cassell. So I asked Kaguya to... discreetly look into it... and Tsukino Usagi was active there.”

Tsukino Usagi - the location spoofing program that was a sister program of Kaguya. It was built to provide a hiding place from EVA by providing her with endless supplies of false data. It created a false impression of what was really going on in an area. Like a digital Nibelungen.

“Why would a program designed to hide from EVA be over an island owned by Cassell?”

“Not everyone at Cassell agrees with what I’m doing. Not everyone at the Secret Party agrees. But Chisei, you agreed. You wanted the violence to stop! We’re still working on a replacement serum for Bondarev and Herzog’s recipe. We have to keep that research protected, even from the Secret Party and Cassell.”

“That’s all?” Chisei asked.

“Yes, that’s all.” Meixiu sighed.

“So my next question... What are you going to do when these over-threshold hybrids hear the next dragon heartbeat? They will immediately fall away to the dragon side in large numbers. Aren’t we providing an army for the King of Sky and Wind?”

“I have a contingency. We’re continually refining EX-Imperium, the voice of the Dark King. No deadpool can resist it. They’ll have no choice but to stand down once it’s unleashed. The runic copy we use for the E3 exam to awaken dragonblood is too weak to be effective, but we’re getting closer to an exact copy that can be used as a suppressor.”

Chisei was silent for a long time. Meixiu closed her eyes and let the breeze caress her face and the sound of the water lapping on the rocks soothe her nerves.

“Where are you getting the fetal blood necessary for the serum if not from a deadpool spawning tank?”

Meixiu’s shoulders sagged. “Stop asking me that. I can’t tell you. I’m working on a replacement. When I succeed, you’ll be the first to know. The first.”

She finally lifted her eyes to look at him. His soft sad gaze hurt her deeper than the hard edge. Meixiu knew he wouldn’t approve of what she was doing. She never said there wasn’t a spawning pool... just that it wasn’t under Cassell.

“I just don’t want us to end up on the opposite side of this war. I can feel it. You’re straying dangerously close to the edge.” He murmured.

“I was born for this.”

His eyebrows quirked upward, questioning.

“There was a prophecy about me.” She explained. “That I would stand on the threshold between the world of man and the world of dragons.”

“Who said this prophecy?”

“I can’t tell you.”

Chisei chuckled and looked away out over the water. “Of course not.”

She rocked on her heels. “So you’re right. I’m on the edge. I’ll stay on the edge. It’s nerve-wracking. And I’m sorry.” She followed his gaze. “By the way, you put that coat on in the heat of summer. You look like a vampire.”

The wind toyed with the edges of his black windbreaker, revealing the Ukiyo-E pattern. “I felt like it was appropriate. I’m not part of the Hydra any more, but this felt too much like a mission for me to resist.”

“But you don’t have Spider Fang with you.”

“I don’t.”

“What were you planning to do without a weapon?”

Chisei sighed deeply. “Given what I knew, I had to come talk to you.”

Meixiu huffed with laughter. “You ain’t gonna do nothin’.”

“I had you going for a second there though, right?”

“You’re a punk!” She turned, giving him a playful punch in the arm. She turned around and leaned her back against the ropes. “Come to dinner. Please?”

“I cannot.” He put his dark glasses back on. “Give my regards to your husband.”

He turned and began to walk away. Meixiu watched his figure grow smaller and smaller, shrinking down to a tiny dot before getting swallowed up by the waves of heat rising up from the Chicago asphalt. She folded her hands in front of her.

She lowered her eyes. She wished she could tell him everything. He’d come very close to the truth. But the truth was unimaginable.

The questions he’d asked... had she fallen to the dragon side? Was she a deadpool, manipulated by dragons without knowing it?

“Meixiu...”

She startled and turned. “Zihang! You followed me?” She stomped her foot. “Oh... why can’t you trust me for one second?”

He was standing in a simple button down shirt and jeans. A gym bag was slung across his back. It looked like he was just going to the tennis court, but what was in the bag was his swords. “I trust you. It’s him...”

“You really are jealous...” Her voice trailed off. “Did he see you?”

“Eventually.” Zihang’s eyes narrowed slightly.

“Ugh.” She folded her arms and looked away, annoyed at his protective interference. “I did want him to come to dinner and you go and pull that stunt...”

“You were really scared for a reason. Despite his claims of neutrality, he still has a strong sense of his view of right and wrong and has a hard time tolerating anything he views as wrong.” He offered her his hand. “Scale of 1 to 10... how close was he to the truth?”

Meixiu chewed her lip. “I’m not going to answer that...” She took his hand. “Stop asking questions.”

“Alright.” He rubbed his chin with his free hand. “Your lack of an answer says enough.”

They walked side by side for a moment.

She was the one who broke the silence. “He wasn’t unarmed... was he?”

“He was.” Zihang’s eyes shifted upward far into the distant tall buildings.

On the top of one of them, a sniper had lain in wait. It wasn’t hard to find her and her partner. Meixiu insisted on coming alone and probably had assured Chisei that she would. So they weren’t expecting his swift and brutal attack and Chisei didn’t have a back up. With their weapon neatly sliced in half, he’d discovered the philosopher stone and mercury laced ammunition and confiscated it.

From one former executive department agent to another, he understood Chisei’s urge to take matters into his own hands that made her visit to him inherently dangerous.

Meixiu’s feelings were too important for him to openly interfere. That made things difficult. Their bond was precious to both of them, no matter how unbalanced and uneasy it was.  That was something he understood all too well.

His mind drifted back to Xia Mi and he forced it away.

So she would still be friends with him. He would still feel for her. But there would always been a blade within his sleeve.

Zihang would be her shield from it.

[lacielre]

circles over circles, 1 (m)

SUMMARY  Your life has been pretty stable from any university task to your social life and love life, everything has been set perfectly like a plate to a dining table. but that changes when you encounter the one person you remember to feel indifferent the most—Jungkook.

PAIRING  jimin/reader, jungkook/reader

RATING  mature

GENRE  college au | smut, romance, heavy angst, friends to “enemies” to lovers, childhood friends, established relationship

WARNINGS  fingering, lots of dwelling in the past 

WORD COUNT  6.2k

PARTS  1, 2

PRESENT-DAY AUTUMN…

These past few days, you’ve always spent extended hours inside the twenty-four-seven-open campus library. Sometimes, you would even feel that the night skipped a few hours advanced into morning because you’ve drifted off to sleep. A few times. Only a few but more than thrice. But it’s difficult not to when it’s purely quiet, only a number of flickered lights to brighten up the tables and shelves, and most importantly, just at the right temperature amid this tiptoeing winter that’s only a few steps away.

Tonight, making use of the nap you had from the noon of yesterday, you exit the library around 5AM. You have some hours to jog back to your dorm then take a short snooze before your classes start.  

On the march home, you take a stop at a small independent coffee shop a few blocks away from your building to take-out breakfast for you and your roommate, Seulgi, whose classes are always at 7:30 in the morning. A torture for the nursing student you share your space with.  

Twenty-minute walks to the dorm are beneficial; they stand as your exercise, you convince yourself. If someone asks if you ever do anything to become fit, you can just say you “jog” daily when all you do is lazily drag your feet across the damp asphalt through the fog thickly peppered on the air.

With hands full of two paper bags, one barely clipped on your elbow and a drink carrier of two cups of hot coffee hanging from your left hand, opening the glass door of your building is a test indeed. As you struggle to pull the metal bar attached to it, someone pushes it from the inside for you.

“Thank you so—” you start but have to cut when you see who it is, “much.”

“Welcome,” Jungkook says succinctly. He sniffles as he opens the door wide and ticks his head to the side, signalling you to get inside quickly before the breeze starts seeping in.

“Oh. Oh yeah, right. Thanks,” you say again. “Thanks. It’s kinda freezing out.”

He brushes a finger under his nose and nods while his other hand is kept busy as he removes his airpods from his ears. “Yeah,” he agrees. “You’re out early. Sun’s not even out yet. You shouldn’t be outside this dark.”

“Yeah, well, I—uh—had to study. Exams are coming up,” you explain. And you’re thinking, how and why the fuck are you talking to him right now?

“Need help with that?” Jungkook nods at your stuff with both hands tucked inside his black sweatpants.

“No? No. No, thanks.”

He only looks at you.

“Yes. I do. I do, actually. Um, could you just click the elevator floor for me?” you request with fumbled thoughts and heart that’s beating fast.

“Sure.” He shrugs.

“Thanks.”

He chuckles at that.

You note to yourself: stop saying “thanks” all the time.

You lead the way to the opened elevator and Jungkook only follows as he brushes a hand through his long, curly hair, which you have only noticed. How the hell is he allowed to walk around this campus looking like that?

A step closer to you, you then notice how much about Jungkook has changed since you two kind of fell off, not that you two were ever involved romantically, but you two were best—good friends. Sort of. You were with each other throughout high school anyway, and not being able to be his friend in college made you think that it’s probably supposed to be this way.

And it broke you.

But some friendships fall apart.

Many people who are older than you – your cousins, aunts, summer job colleagues – have told you a lot of the friendships you’ve made along the way during high school don’t necessarily last. You agreed with that.

You just didn’t think it’d be the one with him.

“Which floor?” Jungkook asks.

“Oh!” You jump a bit. “Eighth.”

“Alright,” he says, and right when he’s about to get off the lift, he turns around and takes care of an imaginary itch on his forehead. “You know what, I’ll help you with that ‘til you get to your room. That looks expensive.”

It’s not.

“It’s not,” you say aloud. You go red. “It’s just from the small shop three blocks away, the one beside the bookstore, across the post office. It’s not that known but food and drinks are delicious there. Plus very, very cheap.”

Jungkook exhales with a smile as the elevator closes. “I see.”

No one talks and you aren’t sure if you’re thankful for the elevator music filling the air enveloping the both of you. If anything, it probably makes the situation worse, awkward. And you hate that no one’s speaking.

“You’re up early,” you comment finally after a few dreaded seconds.

“Training,” he answers quickly.

“Ah, right.” You nod. “The game’s around the corner?”

“Uh-huh.” This time, he nods. “Your boyfriend playing?”

You glow red at that and you swallow. “Yes. H-He will.”

“What’s his name again?”

“Jimin. Park Jimin.”

“Right.”

You’re not sure how two conflicting temperatures are playing with your body at the same time.  Right this moment, you are completely frozen on your spot and your cold hands are sweating. On the other hand, your breath is hitched and warmth has its fashion to conquer you. You feel hot. It wouldn’t take long for bullets of sweat to appear on your forehead.

It’s not difficult to find a reason why he knows you’re dating Jimin, an athlete from another university that will be playing against your university’s team in the coming weeks. Because Jimin, like all good-looking athletes in campuses, is popular. Sort of—well, it’s college.

Jungkook takes the beverage carrier and one of the wrinkled paper bags from you as soon as the metallic gold doors part ways. He gives you a small smile, one that barely looks like one but the sparks in his eyes make up for it.

“Lead the way,” he says, motioning you to.

“Right. Okay,” you say, walking forward then left.

As you sweat to the fabrics of your jacket, your feet shuffle rapidly through the unclean, patterned tiles of the hallway. Doors rush past your vision until you’re finally in front of your own—your home in this stressing universe of a university.

“This is me.” You turn to smile at him only to catch him looking intently at the golden plate of numbers plastered on your black-painted wooden door. You take your stuff from his arms gently. “Thank you so, so much.”

Would it be wrong to tell him you missed him, talking to him?

It must be.

“You’re welcome, _____.”

It’s the first time anyone of you mentioned the other’s name. You didn’t think it would be him who would recall that he actually knows the name of the figure he’s talking to. And the same thing could be said to you.

“See you around,” you mutter and you couldn’t help but give in to the stretch of a tight-lipped smile across your mouth as you add, “Jungkook.”

“Don’t walk around… when… uh, it’s dark,” he manages to say.

Silently, you say, “Okay,” in feathered breaths.

With that, he finally turns around while you twist your toes to face your door instead, not bothering to watch him walk away until he finds his way to the elevator. You fish for your keys inside your pocket. And of course, it takes you a minute or two to finally get inside your room and find your roommate with her hands covering her mouth.

“Were you just outside with Jungkook?” Suelgi asks through her palms.

“Thanks for helping me open the door, by the way,” you say satirically as you sigh. “And yep, that’s him alright.”

“Did you just sigh?” she asks in disbelief.

“It’s Jungkook.”

“Oh, right… history.” She wiggles her brows. “Oh, to have such a not-boring high school life!”

“Boring is fine,” you state. “Also, I-uh, brought some breakfast.”

“Yay! OMG,” she squeals. “Thank you! I was starving last night but I had to sleep it off because there was no food in the fridge.”

Your forehead creases. “You could’ve ordered.”

“I know that. I just chose to sleep instead.” She approaches you and kisses your head as she snatches the paper bags from your hand. “You see, this is why Jimin loves you so much, _____.”

“You got what you wanted. No need to flatter me.”

“Were you out again studying?” Her voice floats farther from your auditory perception as she strides away to unpack the brown bags on the kitchen counter. “These smell good!”

You take off your shoes. “Yup,” you say as you let gravity pull your body to the surrender of the couch. “I’m just gonna nap.”

“Hey, eat with me first,” she requests then giggles. “We’re gonna talk about Jeon.”

“Not funny!”

AUTUMN, FOUR YEARS AGO…

Even amid the tormenting coldness brought by the icy wind, you needed to go to tutorial lessons to prepare for the upcoming exams. This would determine your future, they told you and you held onto that idea. The lessons were held every 7PM until 11PM at the building about five streets behind your apartment. It was one from the many commercial modern-styled buildings lined by the highway tracks.

By the time the tutorial ended, you already had your things rammed into your backpack so you could go home before it could even get darker. You didn’t know anyone in the room and it wasn’t like everyone had the energy to still be friendly, to ask you for some carton drinks on the way home, or to relish on a three-dollar-meal dinner at some twenty-four-seven fast-food chain.

The soles of your rubber shoes were on the frosty cement in no time.

“_____!”

You turned around quickly, trying to find Jungkook’s voice. That was his for sure. It didn’t take long for your eyes to locate him. He was at a convenience store at the corner, across where you stood.

“Kook!” you shouted back.

He rushed to you quickly with white breath mimicking the way his lips exhaled air. “There shouldn’t be a reason you’re out this late.”

“Right,” you remarked sarcastically, kicking lightly at his ankle. “Like you have any business to be out this late.”

“I was craving for some noodles,” he rebutted so simply. “You still attending prep class?”

“Of course, I am. Not everyone’s a star athlete like you.”

He glared at you. “You’re pushing yourself too hard,” Jungkook managed to say silently.

“Come again. Is this concern I hear?” you teased, dramatically putting a hand on your chest.

“Forget it.”

You huffed at him. “I’m trying to get into the university that’s recruiting you. I’m not pushing myself to get in for you, though—well, not entirely. It’s—”

“Your first choice. Your dream university or whatever, I know,” he finished.

“Exactly. That’s why you should be supporting me. I’m doing just fine. See?” You put your open palms by your shoulders. “No stress.”

“I can’t take you seriously with those bags under your eyes, _____.” He narrowed his eyes.

“I naturally have those, Jungkook. Stop insulting me.”

“Accidentally insulting you,” he corrected.

“Okay. Well, stop accidentally insulting me, Jungkook.”

He gave up with a sigh. “Okay, I’m gonna ask you something but you’re only allowed to say ‘yes’ or ‘no’ to my questions, okay?”

“What’s this f—”

“You like ice cream?”

You gave in. “Yes.”

“You like winter?”

“Yes.”

“You want to learn piano?”

“Yes.”

“You’re tired?”

“Yes—” you gasped loudly. “Okay, that’s just unfair! My brain was trained to say ‘yes’ as an answer to every question. It was instinct.”

While you were busy trying to lecture him, all he had as a reply to you was a smirk as he shook his head in dismissal. It was to say that enough, I already won. And maybe, it was right for him to win this. It was true you were tired anyway. Only, you found it hard to admit it to yourself until he made you so.

“I’m hungry.” You looked up to him. “Weren’t you craving for noodles? Let’s eat.”

Jungkook smiled at you, a damn perfect one. “C’mon,” he said, gesturing for you to grab his hand because you were about to cross the street.

“There are no cars, Jungkook,” you stated.

“Fine.” He retracted his hand.  

At mid-passage, two trucks were on their way to cross paths with you and Jungkook, and Jungkook wasn’t planning to stop walking and it was scaring you.

You didn’t know how to cross streets when there were no street lights tucked on the bends of the roads to guide you. You always found trouble finding purchase as to when to cross, so you always had to wait for every upcoming vehicle to pass before you moved your limbs frontward.

So you clutched Jungkook’s hand.

“See, I told you,” he succinctly said, not looking at you.

He held onto yours tightly.

There was no assurance as to whose heart was beating fast at that moment.

Even then, it was quiet.

  “What if you don’t get to the university I’ll be in?” Jungkook asked casually.

“You don’t believe I can?” you teased, trying to sound offended.

He paused. “No—it’s not that! Of course, I do! It’s j—”

That was your queue to laugh and you did.

“Asshole,” was his sheer comment.

“If I don’t get in, it’s no big deal. There’s always a plan B, even a C, to G,” you explained. “I have lots of backups, you know.”

“Where’s the plan B university?”

“The one near yours,” you muttered as you grazed your chopsticks on the floor of the hot paper bowl caged in your palm, trying to clasp short bits of noodles. “It’s just as good but it doesn’t have the program I want.”

He nodded at that. “Do your best.”

You lifted your head to look at him but he wasn’t looking at you. So instead of coming up with a serious response to that, you decided to go on a different direction. “Aww,” you cooed, “can’t go through college without me now, Kook?”

“You wish.”

“Rude.”

“I, um, what do you think about sharing a dorm?” he asked, and when you failed to respond quickly, “my mom wants us to,” he added.

“Ahh.” It was clearer for you now. “That won’t be fair to me because then, I’ll have to clean up your mess. You’d make a terrible roommate, Jungkook.”

“Hey!” He put down the water bottle he had been holding. “I’m not that bad.”

“You’d think,” you provoked more.

Jungkook only huffed, doing his best not to be annoyed while he waited for you to finish your meal. He had been over his for about 20 minutes now. You were a slow eater and Jungkook always took note of that which was why every time he finished his meals, he would always find you something to drink afterwards. So he wouldn’t just be waiting there, watching you eat.

“Thanks for this,” you said as you opened the lid of your drink.

“That’d be two dollars.”

You glared at him. “No way. Let’s just head home. It’s getting late.”

“Right. Like an hour before midnight wasn’t late enough.”

“Okay, genius. It’s getting late late.”

“That makes it better,” he mocked.

Instead of replying, you got up abruptly, carrying the weight of your backpack on the span of your back. Jungkook arranged the disposable materials you both ate on and threw them to the mouth of the nearest garbage bin next to the counter.

And then you were outside the store.

“What are you doing?” you asked, looking at Jungkook’s fingers twined with yours.

Jungkook swallowed. “There might be cars,” he explained shortly but slowly as he let go of your hand and tucked his own inside the warm, joined pockets of his hoodie.  

It didn’t take long for the two of you to reach your rent-controlled apartment, especially when throughout the tread home, you two bickered over the littlest of things. And for a moment, it felt like you were brought back to being first-year highschoolers again, when you two had just met and eventually became friends after finding out that you shared the same path home.

“Tenth floor, right?” Jungkook asked as you both waited for the elevator to come down.

You nodded. “Why’d you have to ask, you practically live here.”

He entered the crane as soon as it arrived and you followed, stopping right by his side.  

You look at him.

He looked at you and sighed. “Next time, after your prep class, call me. You really shouldn’t be out this dark,” and before your witty remark, “I’m serious.”

PRESENT-DAY AUTUMN…

You have no idea why you still have a small picture of Jungkook stuck into your wallet behind asymmetrically folded trivial receipts. If anything, you should have thrown it away as soon as college started. You must be hanging onto this false hope that maybe, somehow, at some point in the future, there’s still a chance things would go back.

That maybe there’s a reason he suddenly pushed you away.

“Where are you eating dinner? Wanna take-out?” Seulgi asks silently as you’re both in the library.

Her voice makes you close your wallet abruptly, and you hope she doesn’t think too much of it. Or else, she would tease you to no end.

“Ah, I’m going out with Jimin tonight,” you say with a wide smile, packing your items.

“Oh, to have a boyfriend who’d ditch training just to have dinner with me,” your roommate theatrically teases. “Say hi to him for me.”

“Sure.”

“Tell your boyfriend too that, that one time he sent food to our dorm, he can still do that,” Seulgi adds with little to no pause in between words. “Tell him not to be shy.”

“Okay. You,” you sigh, inserting your notebook into your bag, “need a boyfriend.”

“_____, I have classes from 7:30AM to 5PM, Mondays to Fridays, half-days on Saturdays. You can’t possibly think I’ve got time for that.” She ponders over the idea for a second, though. “You know what, maybe a fuck buddy will do.”

“Oh, yeah, no fucking way,” you quickly say, shaking your head. “You’ve gone through that already.”

“So protective,” she coos. “You’re for real the big sister I never had.”

You are a year older than her and you’ve shared your dorm with her for about two semesters now. On your freshman year, you didn’t have a roommate and it was so tough living alone to pay all the bills so you opened a slot before first semester officially ended. And there, she entered your life. You’re glad it was her.

“I’m going!” you scream-whisper. “Don’t sleep with an empty stomach, okay? I think there’s still some leftovers in the fridge. If anything—”

“Comes up, just call me,” she continues, mimicking your voice and tone – hardly. “Okay, okay. You sound like my mom now. Go and get laid.”

   If there’s something you love most about Jimin, it would be his determination to make time with the people he loves, one of them being you luckily.

“You sure you don’t wanna take-out?” you ask for the nth time.

“I’m sure. Besides, I’m almost done.” He gives you a peck on the lips, his being the smoothest, softest pair even with the chilly season.  “And babe, you can’t live off take-outs. It’s not healthy.”

“You’re the expert.” You shrug. “You sure you’re not tired?” you say, worried.  

“I’m definitely sure.” He shakes his head. “If anything, all I feel is that I miss you.”

“Cheesy,” you say, smirking and narrowing your eyes.

You instantly wrap your hands around his waist as you lean your body on his back. Being shorter than him, it’s difficult to put your chin on his shoulder and watch him cook. Giving up, you set your cheek on the span of his back, feeling the vibrations as he hums. You sigh and he notices that.

“I think you’re the tired one here,” Jimin utters, concern laced in his tone. “I don’t think studying at dawn is healthy for you, babe.”

“It’s not healthy for anyone; you’re right,” you yield. “But I already had my body clock adjusted to this.”

“You have 9AM classes, _____.” He creases his forehead. “There’s no way you’re getting full eight hours of sleep. Stop with this already and listen to me this time.”

“Sorry.” You nod. “You’re right,” you repeat. “Just two more days for exams then I’ll go back to my uninterrupted sleeps. All my exams are done by Friday anyway.”

With that, you unfasten your hands to let go of him and walk towards the empty kitchen counter beside him, lift your body, and sit on it.

And just like that, leaning your side on the wall, you watch until he turns off the stove.

“Let’s eat,” he says.

And he catches you merely staring at him.  

“Something wrong?” Jimin asks, turning to face you and ending up at a position where he stands between your legs. He slides his hands up and down on your bare thighs, getting close to your ass then back to your thighs.

You shake your head. “Just missed you,” you sigh, “a lot.”

“Missed you too,” he replies, leaning in for a kiss.

The kiss, shallow at first but with a hand crept up your nape, he pulls you in deeper. And the reply you could muster is a throaty moan as you lock your ankles around him. You play with his hair softly, much different from the kiss you share.

Softly, you sigh as he pulls away.

He lets go to place his lips on the crook of your neck, hot breath on sensitive skin but all you could do is throw your head backwards to give him more access.

“Hmm, smell so good,” Jimin mumbles, inhaling your scent, licking and kissing small spots on your neck.

His hands travel to your waist inside your (his) shirt with his thumb gently circling a skin of your stomach. One goes upwards to your ribs and just so, so close to your mound.

“Knew you weren’t wearing one when you hugged me,” he breathes out on the shell of your ear. “Such a good girl for me.”

He goes over the curve of your breast and catches your nipple between his fingers, making you whimper in small sounds as you arch your back. “So, so sensitive too.” He nips at your neck, just lightly grazing his teeth.

Jimin withdraws from sucking spots on your neck. While his hand is busy with your breast, his other cups your cheek, making you look at him with dilated eyes. He pushes your chin to open your mouth and he licks at your lips making you hitch a breath.

Before you could even do anything, he sucks at your bottom lip.

With the gesture, you couldn’t help but to fist his shirt in your hands, scared you would faint if continues to play with you like this. He chuckles at that before finally attaching his lips to yours, entering his tongue into your mouth. And you suckle his tongue, trying to level with the intensity he’s giving you.

He moans at that and he flicks your nipple to receive a moan from you.

“F-Fuck,” you mutter, and you already feel the immense wetness pooling on your panties.

His fingers dangerously dance along the ends of your pajama shorts. And when they enter the fabric, they only stay on your inner thigh, tapping lightly at your skin.

“Jimin, please…” you exhale. “J-Just—just do—do something.”

“You want my fingers?”

And he gets so fucking close, staying on your panties but he retrieves to palm your inner thigh instead. “Answer me, babe. Just tell me what you want and I’ll give it to you,” Jimin says, looking into your eyes.

You hate how he’s able to maintain such demeanor when you’re already this fucked out over a kiss.

“C’mon, baby…”

“I-I want your fingers inside of me,” you say, shyly.

He nods at you as his fingers rub you over your panties and he could feel how wet you are. He rubs your clit over the fabric and you couldn’t help but fist his shirt even more.

“Inside me—please, please,” you beg with a tiny voice, spreading your legs apart.

“So impatient,” he comments and he finally enters a digit. “Fuck, you’re tight. Could barely move around here, baby.” He starts thrusting it into your core slowly in a torturous pace.

You clench at his words and even when you don’t speak, he knows you like it when he talks to you like this. Your small whimpers and short moans tell him enough. And there’s something about you and your submissiveness that he couldn’t get enough of.

“Can you take one more, princess?” he says, stilling his hand.

You don’t answer, squeezing your eyes shut. You sigh at the loss of movement so you hold onto his wrist and try to move him but he doesn’t budge. He only shakes his head.

“Take one more for me?” he repeats, thrusting his hand again slow but hard.

You nod quickly with eyes shut as you feel him add another finger and curl them inside you.

“Can you hear that?” Jimin whispers as he thrusts his hand fast. “Fuck. You’re so wet.”

The sounds of your juices squelching are the only thing you could hear along the fast beating of your heart in your chest and the quick high-pitched whimpers you exhale. But you are too embarrassed to even answer his question.

You grow even wetter by second and that makes you redder than ever.

“Answer me,” he says, slowing his pace.

You gulp. “Yesyes. I can hear it.” You bury your face on his shoulder, muffling your words as you’re not able to take it anymore. “Fuck—nnghh—!”

Jimin knows you’re so close to falling apart on his fingers—way too close. It might be the fastest he’s made you come undone on his fingers. You are clenching on his fingers too tightly and his blood is already rushing down to his cock.

His thumb presses on your folds until he finds your clit and rubs over it in circular motion. It has you breathing even faster. You couldn’t help but to bite his collarbone to ease the pleasure you’re feeling.

“O-Oh, my God!” you scream, although the sounds are muffled. “Jimin!”

Then he has your legs trembling.

Just a bit more. A little bit more.

“Come,” he sternly commands.

And with rapid moans, you do. Slowly, you let go of his shirt and lick a stripe of his neck and nibbling at some parts. He pulls his fingers and raises them to you. Without letting a second pass, you hold his wrist and you let your tongue clean his fingers, and his hairs raise at that.  

You hear his small “fuck” as you taste yourself off him.

Just when you’re about to wrap his fingers with your mouth, his hands reach the back of your knees, pulling you closer to him.  Your heat is placed just above his abdomen and he could feel you pulsing.

His face is incredibly close to you and none of you are doing anything about it. You let his hot breath fan your pinkish cheeks, and he lets you rub your hands on the span of his arms.

“Tired?” he asks, leaning his forehead onto yours.

“Just need a minute,” you answer.  

Then a smirk forms on his lips. “We were supposed to be here to eat dinner.”

“Mhm” – you loll your head to the side and kiss the corner of his mouth – “I like you better.”

Jimin chuckles at that. “Stay over tonight?” he cautiously asks, testing the waters and afraid you’ll turn him down to do something else (e.g. studying).

You nod at his request. “Definitely,” and you add, “I’ll be troubled finding a reason to leave after—well, that.”

If there’s something you love most about Jimin, it would be his determination to make time with the people he loves, one of them being you luckily and his cock.

   “Will you attend the game on Saturday?” Jimin asks slowly.

The contrast of his personality is adorable to you. Just an hour ago, he’s ready to take the life out of you with his fingers. But now, he’s warily asking you if you could make it to one of his games on a weekend.

You smile wickedly at him. “I’ll be there for sure!”

“Great,” he says excitedly. “Who are you supporting?”

Your eyes turn into slits at him. “You! Who else?”

“Well, you’re friends with lots from your team. You know, Namjoon, Seokjin, and well—uh, and they’re playing, too,” he explains.

“Yeah, well, I’m friends with Taehyung from your team, too,” you say, refuting his theory. “I miss Tae.”

“Really, now,” Jimin grunts. “He’s my friend and all but ever since the story you told me before, I just can’t help but picture it, then I get mad—no, frustrated. Just a little but still—”

“We fooled around once, Jimin. Nothing even happened,” you quickly defend. “Once. And we were on our last year of high school. That’s like three years ago! That’s before you even dared to ask me out. And I had to kiss you for you to ask me out.”

“Yeah, I-I know. I know,” he says. “I can’t help it.”

“Don’t picture it!” you tell him, laughing.

“This is not funny,” he complains. “Like, whenever I’m with Tae, it’s all good. It’s fine. When I’m with you, it’s all good too. But when you two happen to be in the same space, I can’t help it. Or whenever someone mentions it.”

“Just so you know though, you’re the only one I’ve ever loved,” you confess, solemnly.

You close the gap between the two of you to press your lips on his jaw, not that it’s far considering that you two are literally cuddling up on the couch with a playing movie that none of you pays attention to.

He looks down at you.

“I’ve had flings. You had yours too! And I’m probably not aware of it, but you’ve probably messed with some of my friends in high school—but you know, I don’t think about it,” you add, shaking your head.

Jimin only kisses your crown. “It’s hard for me because there’s a face. I know who Taehyung is, and he’s my friend. You have a feeling I’ve fooled around with some of your friends, but you don’t know who. That’s the difference.”

“Are you jealous?”

“Is it—that’s what you get from all that?”

“Well?” you raise a question. “There’s nothing else to get from that.”

“Okay—okay, you’re right,” he says, halting as he realizes.

“Hey, hey,” you say, making him lock eyes with you. “I love you.”

Jimin couldn’t help but smile at that. “Love you too,” before he cages your body and kiss you with the right amount of passion and intensity.

“I gotta say, jealousy is a good look on you,” you tease.

“Don’t make me deliberately jealous please.”

“Won’t ever do that,” you assure.

   When the sun burned your thighs through Jimin’s bedroom curtains, he’s no longer beside you. But there’s a note he left on his nightstand that says he had to go out early because he ditched training last night for you. You smile at the simple gesture which turned grand by the breakfast he’s cooked for you. As though the leftovers from dinner last night aren’t enough.

Treating his home as yours, you do your morning routine with an incomplete skincare regimen and leave the apartment locked. You even have to double-check it, afraid that you accidentally abandon it open.

Getting back in track with your usual mornings, you head to the coffee shop you always stop by for of course, coffee. The shop owner’s daughter, Joohyun, whom you’ve known and been friends with since high school (who currently attends classes at Jimin’s university), serves you your usual – precise teaspoons of sugar, precise part of milk, and precise hotness of beverage.

“Jungkook was here,” Joohyun starts.

Instead of standing behind the counter, she shares a table with you while munching on some peanuts.

“And I should know this, why?” you ask, narrowing your eyes at her.

“We had a small talk, the typical ‘how are you’ all that, then he mentioned you is why,” she points out with a smirk. She chomps her snack.

That makes you stop a little but you don’t show it – hopefully. To hide your surprise, you take a small sip of your drink, not bothering to play with the temperature as you trust Joohyun and her ability to warm up a drink just right.

“What—what did he say?” you say, needing to pause in between as you swallow the remnants of your coffee’s bitterness soaking on the buds of your tongue.

“That you mentioned this place to him,” Joohyun states, smiling now.  “Since when did you two start talking again, huh? It’s like we opened a door to seven years ago, damn.”

“We talked yesterday for a while and that’s probably the only time we’ll talk until we graduate,” you dismiss.

Joohyun shrugs. “Whatever you say,” she utters, unconvinced.

“At least, sound like you believe me, Joohyun.”

She giggles instead, not bothering to rephrase her words. “Anyway, how are you and Jimin?”

“It’s been great!” you exclaim. “But you know, he’s a bit—uh, how do I say this?” You pause to find the right words, snapping your fingers, and Joohyun’s just waiting for you.

“I do not have all the time in the world, _____.”

“He’s a bit, um, insecure—no, that’s not right.”

“What do you mean ‘insecure’? Like, ‘doesn’t-feel-confident-with-himself-because-the-game-is-close’ insecure?”

You shake your head. “You know that part of the relationship where you talk about exes and stuff like that?”

“Ooh, that.” Joohyun nods, finally seeing where you’re going. “But you two have been together for two years now; I’m surprised you haven’t had this talk earlier.”

“No. No, we had, but it keeps resurfacing. Then we talked about the people we’ve been with, and you know I’ve fooled around with Taehyung right?”

Joohyun nods again.

“Well, he feels weird about it because they’re close and all. I don’t know.” You exhale a sigh. “And there’s more. I told him there’s probably a huge chance he’s fooled around with at least one of my friends.” You lift a finger.

Her eyes widen at that then she nods her head very slowly – again. “And… what did he say?”

“He said that’s what I think,” you utter and Joohyun only nods and nods at you, so you go ahead and continue. “But it’s not like it’s far-fetched, right? Our high schools weren’t that far from each other. He’s just so weirded-out by me and Tae, but it’s been so, so long. Why are you so quiet? Say something! Also! I wouldn’t be bothered if he tells me he had done it with my frie—oh, my God, you have?”

You almost shout your last words.

“What gave it away?” Joohyun whisper-shouts, covering her mouth. “Was it the nods?”

“Could you be a little more obvious?” you shout back. “You and Jimin? Oh, my God. And you never told me!”

“I didn’t think it was important! Why didn’t he tell you?” she defends.

“He probably doesn’t even know we’re friends, Joohyun!” you say quickly.

“Well, he should! And in my defense though, _____, I had the hardest time trying to find a way to tell you. I knew you were talking about some Jimin to me before but I didn’t know it was that Jimin.”

You wiggle on your seat, your mind making up the image of Joohyun and Jimin together intimately without your cue. And Jimin was right; it’s weird. You put your hands into fists, cringing at the idea.

“Oh, my God, are you mad at me?” Joohyun asks, not able to decipher your reactions.

“No?” you say, unsure, and then calmly and more certainly this time, “no. It was high school, before we were even together.”

“Jimin and I—we only did it onc—”

“Stopstopstop! Can we talk about something else?” you beg.

“Okay, okay. Yeah. Of course, sure,” she agrees frantically. “So, um—Jungkook! How did you two start talking again?”

You summarize everything into a simpler situation. “Shared the elevator ride.” Your shoulders slump back. “Can we not make it a bigger deal than it is—not!—it is not a big deal,” you correct midway. “I stand by what I said, you know, we’re never gonna talk again. I just know it.”

“And you know better because you’re a what? A fucking psychic?” she scoffs.

“Rude.”

“I’m just saying, _____,” Joohyun states. “I’m not saying that your relationship with him should have the same depth as the one you had with him in high school. Inseparable and just you know, so… young.”

You wait for her to continue, not being able to reply to that because you think she might be making a point. So far, she has.

“All I’m saying is that this is a burden you never lifted off your shoulders,” she says seriously as she shakes her head. “And things like that – they come full circle,” she rotates a finger in the air, “naturally.”

[blissfulalchemist]

“i can’t promise you anything.” + dealer's choice xx

Hello I have some Liz for you!

Being in a landlocked state is inconvenient when all you want to do is run away to a place that gives an illusion of peace. Instead of salt I get pine, instead of crashing I hear lapping, at least I’m not alone. Val sits next to me on the roof of her car, leaning back letting the sun warm her darker skin, while I have my knees clutched to my chest. The radio plays softly in the background both attempting to enjoy the view from where we’re parked in Boulder, and I can’t help but notice that Val’s been silent this whole time. 

“Thank you for letting me stay with you,” I say quietly, resting my chin on my knees, “I hopefully won’t be staying long.”

Val looks down at me, eyebrow cocked, “Why is that? You planning on getting a place of your own?” I nod, as she laughs, “No need to do that. My parents are cool with you staying as long as you need.”

“They also haven’t been around much either,” I point out and she waves off my comment, “Besides then you don’t have to live with the literal devil spawn.”

“Liz,” she sits up facing me, frowning, “what happened? I know you and your mom fought but there’s more to it than that isn’t there?” I look away from her eyes, shrugging, “I’m your friend, Liz, I just want to help you.”

I bite my tongue because she is the only person that would listen to me, the only one that could maybe understand or sympathize with me. She’s also the only person I have left and I don’t want to lose her. I can’t risk going through all of this alone, go through life alone. How can one tell your best friend that you just found out you came from a forced relationship, your mother murdered people in cold blood, and your father was a prominent figure head in a cult that harmed and killed many in a small county in Montana? I’m still reeling from everything I learned, and the possibility of what’s to come now that I know. 

I think she’s said my name again as I feel her hand lightly touch my shoulder. “I-. I don’t know what to say Val. I don’t want to lose you.”

“Why would you ever lose me?” I catch the worry in her eyes, scooting closer to me pushing my loose hair behind my ear, “Liz there is nothing you can say that would have you lose me. Just tell me please.”

“It wasn’t just a fight with my mom, Val, she told me about my father,” I swallow biting my lip to stop myself from crying.

“The lawyer whose car you nearly trashed?” There’s no laughter or smile with her words this time, recounting the memory.

I nod, taking a deep breath, “She told me everything about him….and what she did.” Val looks at me with her sympathetic brown eyes, turning a little golden in the current sunlight, my arms release my knees, “She was kidnapped, Val, by a goddamn fucking cult. My father was brother to the leader and a leader himself in it. God I wish that our original assumptions were right and that she just got caught up and him being the richest had to do the payouts. That maybe, just maybe, my mom joined and never wanted anything to do with them, which is why there were sealed records. But no! No! She was kidnapped, forced to marry, had all this bad stuff happen to her only for her to still choose him. She chose to stay with him, a man that was killing people for his faith, for a delusional brother. And here I thought that maybe it was just because she found out she was pregnant with me and that’s why she stayed but again I’m naive, because it turns out she joined him in killing innocent people. Became judge, jury, and executioner.” I huff, heart racing and hands starting to shake, my blood starting to boil as the conversation with her replays in my mind. I was lied too….for years she lied to me. 

“You came from a monster and you’ll end up like one soon enough.” Those words repeated to me every time I had to stay with my grandmother, any time I was in trouble she’d blame it on my genetics, I should call and ask if she meant only my father. “How can I live with myself knowing about this now, Val?” I wipe away the few tears that have fallen, looking away from my friend, “It’s no wonder that I never had any friends, or family, or, well, anyone really, it’s because I am more of the monster they would ever be.”

“Liz,” she sighs and wraps her arms around me, the sobs starting before I can stop them. I hold onto her, feeling her fingers run through my hair, I’m staining her shirt as years of insecurity come to the surface. Every single piece of my life makes more sense now: the moving, the bullying, stares and whispers, mom’s hospital stays, all of it just stark reminders that I was blind to everything. So easy to manipulate, little Liz, soft and kind just like her mother, with a temper rivaling her father it seems. An actress, you’ll never know what she’s really thinking so better to not trust her before you’re burned. I feel like nothing more than a walking contradiction. Broken and strewn across the floor like my mirror, yet so perfectly put together you’d never be able to see the cracks unless you looked close enough. 

Everything in my body slows, listening to the soft words of comfort Val whispers into my hair. I’ve only just realized how silent she’s been about this whole thing, her face didn’t show much surprise. In fact she hasn’t shown much surprise through this whole ordeal. I didn’t even recall telling her that my father was John Duncan, the lawyer whose office we stumbled into three weeks ago, yet she knew and made mention of it. I pull away from her slowly, eyes narrowing, “Val,” she hums, her eyes looking me over, “I didn’t tell you that my father was the lawyer.”

She waves a hand, “Yeah you did. It was a while ago though.”

I shake my head, “No, because I only recently have everything put together,” I watch as she shrugs off the information, “Val….Did you know?”

“Know what?”

My shoulders slump, “You know what,” she’s failing at hiding the worry in her features, “Did you know that my father was the leader of a killer cult?”

Val stays silent, eyes looking away from me slowly. I cross my arms as she lets out a breath, nodding slowly, “I did. I knew.”

“What,” I clutch my chest, the sharp pain brief, “You-You knew.” She nods, looking back to me, “You knew and you never told me?” My body tenses to run all the while my hands feel ready to fight.

“It wasn’t my secret to tell, Liz,” her voice is calm and steady, “If your mom didn’t tell you then, well, she sure as hell wouldn’t have liked me telling you.”

“How long?” The ringing in my ears gets louder as I breathe deeply, I need to think and listen to what she has to say, “How long have you known Val?”

She bites her lip, looking down to her shoes, “Since we were kids.” 

“What,” my voice cracks, the water welling up in my eyes again.

Val nods, “I brought you over a few times and then one day my parents sat me and my brother down and said we weren’t allowed to be friends with you.” She kept this from me, “I asked why and they just told me that it was because you had a really bad father. That it was to protect us,” Val rolls her eyes, scoffing, “Then as we got a little older they gave me more details, it was all assumptions on their end. I never thought that they would be right or that he lived in the state, Liz, but I knew his face and his eyes matched yours.”

“You knew this whole time?” I can’t seem to let that part go, the phrase repeating over and over again. She knew and she never told me, her best friend. The one person I thought I could trust and she lied to me too.

“I didn’t know the exact details, but yeah, I knew since we first met.” She grabs my hand, “I never made mention of it because I didn’t ever want to upset you,” Val gives a small shrug, pushing her own hair back, “it also didn’t mean anything to me.” I blink, eyebrows knitting together, “What I mean by that is, I didn’t care who your father was and what he did.” Her thumbs rub small and slow circles on my hand, as she gives a small smile, “So much so I told my parents that they couldn’t stop me from being your friend and they were liars because if you were religious you wouldn’t be so nice.” A quick laugh escapes me unintentional as the image of her telling her parents to fuck off seems so unreal to me, “I gave a whole list of reasons and I just hung out with you still because I was braver back then and you already had my heart, I couldn’t leave that behind.” 

“I could turn out worse than them though Val. I was bred to bring about some new generation of Eden’s Gate or something like that,” I shiver at the thought, Val’s light touch along my cheek calming me, “Doesn’t that worry you?”

She smirks, “Nope.” She faces me head on, crossing her legs underneath her, “It doesn’t because I know you Liz.” She’s holding my hands, “You’re Lizette, the girl that is so smart that she’s graduating early and has all the teachers racing to keep up with you. Liz, the person most willing to stand up for the people below her, unafraid to knock those above down a few pegs, a woman of direct action. Liz, someone that was willing to honey trap a teacher in order to get the evidence needed to stop his cycle of abuse to the students he taught. You’re Liz, my best friend, confident, partner in life, someone that I love with my whole heart. Liz the sweetest, kindest, most determined, strongest, big hearted, and stubborn person I know.” She lifts my chin to meet her eyes, “You’re not your parents, you never were. You were and always will be Lizette Rojas, my best friend. Nothing, and I mean, nothing can ever change that.”

I move my chin from her hand breaking our eye contact, “Are you sure that’s really me,” my voice doesn’t sound like my own anymore, it’s too soft and reminds me of the orphans in movies, “It doesn’t sound like who I am anymore.”

“It is though,” she sighed, “You’re still trying to put everything together and that’s understandable, but do you remember what Mrs. Getten said when she sent you that article,” I shake my head, “I do. She said that no matter what it said or what you found out, it didn’t get to determine who you are. And she’s right Liz, Getten is right, you get to determine who you are and trust me when I say that you’ve already determined that.”

“What if people can never look past it in the future? I’ll always be stuck living in the shadow of their heartlessness,” What if I can never move past it?

“Then we work together and move past it, make them look at the real you,” she pulls me in for a hug, “Look I can’t promise you anything in regards to the future of how people will see you, I don’t have that kind of magic, but what I can promise you is that I’ll be with you. I will always see the real you Liz, okay? No matter what. You will always have someone in your corner.”

“Even if I fall off the deep end? What then? I can’t expect you to want anything to do with that.” 

“You really think you’re going to be like your mom,” Val pulls back, hands on my shoulders, “You’re not. The difference between you and your mom is that you’ll have someone there to pull you back. Remind you of who you are.” She gives me a smile, “She was alone and you’re not. No matter the childhood you had you’ll never be alone.”

I can’t help but return her smile with a small one, my hand covering hers, “Let me guess you’re going to make sure of that?” Val rolls her eyes playfully and nods, “You promise?” 

She holds out her hand, pinky extended, “Pinky promise.” 

I hook my own around hers and I embrace her again, “Thank you Val,” I whisper into her ear, “You mean the world to me.”

“Of course,” she squeezes me tighter, “I love you, Liz. I’d do anything for you.” She has tears in her eyes, when we finally pull away from each other, “Come on, we should uh-. We should get going back to my place. Maybe we stop for some ice cream or something.”

“Are you proposing a movie night?” Her cheeks look a little more red than they should be and she gives me a small shove, “If you are we’re going to need more than just ice cream and you know it.”

“Okay fine a trip to the grocery store, but I pick out two of the bargain bin movies,” she hops down, holding her hand out to offer me help.

I slide off shaking my head, “Okay fine, but only because you’re paying.”

“We going to play some games too?” Val asks as she starts her car up again, “Hell you know what Liz, let’s just take the rest of the week off from school.”

I clutch my chest, gasping, settling into the passenger seat, “We aren’t even sick my dear Val.”

“Hey, isn’t it you that says people need to take a mental health day?” It's easier to laugh with her as she proposes what we could do to get out of school for the rest of the week. I don’t bother to argue as I know she’s going to win as she’s the one with the car and she’s right. “Why don’t we go up to my parent’s place in the mountains, just you and me. Get away from all this madness and not worry about people getting in contact with us or school.” 

I roll the window down, smiling, “I like that. I like that idea a lot.”

[chaeparkeths]

Temptations

TW: some violence

A/n: a little star wars inspired shot (i might make an au outta this hehe)

"Calm down, I'm sure Dante will be just fine," Jihyo sighed as Momo paced back and forth for the nth time.

"How do you expect me to calm down when Dante has made contact with Maul, and we haven't heard from him since?!" Momo asked, her voice wavering, clearly worried about her former master. "That Sith took everything from me. I can't let him kill Dante..."

Jihyo gave Momo a small smile as she embraced her friend in a hug. "You do know attachments are against the Code," Jihyo mumbled, "Dante is an experienced Knight. I'm sure he'll manage."

Momo frowned, she hated how the Jedi Code made her feel less human. No attachments, no emotions, those are the things that make people human. Dante has always been the father figure to Momo since her youngling days, she sees him as family, but the fact that the Code prevents that irks Momo. "Yeah, yeah, I know. Stop treating me like a padawan, Hyo," Momo pouted.

"That's because you keep acting like one," Jihyo laughed as she ruffled Momo's hair, earning a whine from the blonde.

The two Jedis stood at the deck, watching the Star Destroyer in front of them. The Republic's Eta-2 Actis are exchanging fires with the incoming droids. "We should be out there fighting alongside our men; we should be on that ship with Dante," Momo grumbled, her hands balled into fists as she saw some interceptors spinning out of formation and exploding into flames.

"Our orders were to stay on this ship and wait for Dante's call." Jihyo reminded her friend of what the Council said earlier during the brief, "and as Jedis, we shouldn't be seeking action, it is not the Jedi way."

Momo rolled her eyes, how hypocritical of the Jedi. The Grand Master and the Council goes around preaching on the Jedis are peacekeepers, yet here they are, high commanding officers of the Republic Military, leading clones into war. "Did you feel that?" Momo asked when she felt something uneasy through the Force, a darker presence that is not Maul.

Jihyo nodded her head in confirmation. "I'm done sitting here waiting for things to get worse," Momo grumbled as she made her way towards the hangar, much to Jihyo's chagrin. Sighing, the shorter Jedi chased after her friend, knowing Momo will surely do something reckless the moment she faces Maul.

•

•

•

The moment the two Jedis landed (more like crash-landed) in the star destroyer's hangar, Momo immediately had R7 to trace the comlink signal of her former master. They followed the signal to the deck of the star destroyer only to find the doors separating them and the bridge. "For Force's sake," Momo grumbled, igniting her lightsaber to cut through the chunk of metal.

It took Momo a few minutes before her blue plasma blade managed to melt a decent sizes hole for her and Jihyo to enter.

Momo saw her former master exchanging blows with a Sith Lord that is human, Darth Maul nowhere in sight. "What are you guys doing here?" Dante exclaimed when he senses the presence of his former padawan and friend.

"Well, our dear Momo decided to disobey the order to come to your aid," Jihyo sighed as she ignited her own lightsaber, prepared to help the Jedi Master.

"We meet again, Hirai Momo," a chuckle drew Jihyo and Momo's attention away from the fight in front of them to the Dathomirian Zabrak behind them. "This time I'll get the job done," Maul growled, igniting his signature red double-bladed lightsaber.

"I'm not the naive little girl on Tatooine anymore," Momo spat as she charged towards the Zabrak. Jihyo sighed in exasperation as she knew Momo would recklessly charge into battle without a plan.

Soon, two cobalt blue plasma blades clashed with a double-bladed scarlet red lightsaber. Momo frowned as her attacks started to get aggressive, Jihyo side-eyed her friend in concern as she could sense the anger and hate radiating from the older.

"You have hate. You have anger, why don't you use it?" Maul taunted. Of course, Jihyo thought, if she could sense the slight touch of the Dark Side emitting from Momo, Maul would sense it too! Momo grit her teeth in frustration as she managed to slice the Sith's lightsaber into half. 

The three of them were in a standstill, each waiting for anyone to make the first move. Maul's yellow eyes darted from Momo to Jihyo, he knew the shorter Jedi would be a problem. With lightning speed, Maul Force pushed Jihyo towards the railings, the shorter girl collided into it with such intensity, it rendered her unconscious. "Guess it's you and me now," Momo snarled as she lunges towards the Sith with incredible speed, tapping into her hatred towards the red-black Zabrak.

Once more, their lightsabers were clashing with each other with crackling frenzy—both of them using their strength to press their respective blades down, neither of them relenting. Momo slid her lightsaber along the red plasma, in hopes to slice off the Sith's arm. However, Maul saw that move coming and jumped back, placing some distance between them, leading into an intense staredown. 

Before either of them could make the first move, a massive crash from the star destroyer caused the duo to lose their balance for a moment. Maul knew that his ship would go down soon (judging from the continuous firing from the republic destroyers), he turned off his lightsaber and retreated to the escape pods while Momo was regaining her bearings. "Kriffing coward," Momo spat at the Zabrak's retreating figure.

"Language." Jihyo chastised when Momo went to help her up after noticing the younger Jedi was struggling to get up. "We should give Dante a hand," Jihyo said as she nudged her head towards the two men that are still duelling, she could tell that Dante was starting to get exhausted.

In an instant, Dooku managed to land a kick to Dante–who lost his balance momentarily–and delivered the killing blow. "DANTE!" Momo yelled. At that moment, Momo was overwhelmed by hatred towards the Sith for taking away everything that she holds dear. The smug grin on the Count's face only added fuel to the raging fire in the Jedi. 

"Momo, no," Jihyo warned, sensing the anger that's clouding the older girl's judgement. "You're not in the right state of mind to fight him."

"Who said I was going to?" Momo scoffed, her hand forming a grip-like gesture, feeling Dooku's throat in her hand as she used the Force to choke the old man. She could hear Jihyo's pleas to stop, but Momo was enjoying this too much, she had the chance to rid the galaxy of a Sith, so why should she stop?

Dooku was brought to his knees, gasping for air as he desperately clawed at his throat (as if it could pry the invisible hand from his throat). Momo's eyes turned yellowish-red as she used more of the dark side ability to squeeze tighter. It was until Dooku's lifeless body plummeted into the ground did it draw Momo out of her hate, her eyes widened in horror as she stared at her hands. "What have I done?" She whispered, realising that she just killed someone who was partially defenceless, brown orbs replaced the yellow from before.

Jihyo held Momo as the older girl cried. Momo hated how she felt, it was supposed to bring her relief, knowing that one dangerous Sith is gone, but all she felt was regret. "I shouldn't have done that..." Momo mumbled as Jihyo rubbed her back in hopes to comfort the older girl.

"C'mon, the destroyer is going to blow if we don't leave. We'll talk about this later," Jihyo said softly as the ship shook more violently. Momo nodded, using the Force to grab Dante's lightsaber before following Jihyo towards the hangar.

[sunritual]

Let’s try this again

They should make a law where if the police don’t read you your Miranda rights you get out of jail free, like if you don’t get your receipt at fast food restaurants you get a mail free

The shaggy law - There should be a law that if you continuously and shamelessly deny doing something, no matter how indisputably obvious it is that you did it, you should get off free for pure savegery.

Confederates as “rebels for tradition” is laughable

Ram rainbow spiral horns profile.

People think grammar rules are etched into the universe — they’re not. When people say AAve is incorrect and ignorant, they say that their conception of how one should speak is inherently correct despite no evidence/truth. Grammar is agreed upon not mandated

Hippie sauce infusion pizza joint

Plain nude balconette with little purple and pink flowers at wiring

How could anyone predict anything happening but how could any be surpised either

Hierarchies - nahhhh

Humans aren’t inherently higher than any other creature or thing, but as humans i don’t think it’s wrong to prioritize other humans. There no better or worse but there is optimal for certain environments and lifestyles.

What differentiates a piece of art from a slightly different replica - when is it an entirely different piece altogether? Moving a figure slightly? Adding a splash of paint ? Changing a color to the point where no one could tell? Is the persons perception the deciding factor or what’s actually on the canvas. If abstract art is about the perception, and the waning behind it - does it change with these things?

An exhibit where people are invited to paint over and destroy or change the art

The differences between us and other. Are feeble - not illusory but

Periwinkle sky blue black and white each of a half circle . Faded out

Uni should be about exploring ideas — new and old famillar and foreign - honeing writing reading reasoning debating listening etc skills.

Umm, Karen were your parents married when you were born?

Ummmm no, umm i mean , uh ,yes —what??

Then why are you policing what other people do?

Dark blue light blue orange lemon circles layer on top of each other, several difffent sizes

Job apps tip!! For every job you apply to , Change your last name on your resume to the last name of the hiring manager and they will think you are related to them and hire you with nepotism. ( then, or coarse, legally when you get the job)

Unpopular opinion: i don’t really mind diarrhea

I for one think it’s incredibly brave of the brats girls to reclaim such a derogatory term

Starting every Describtion of every British show with “its kind of like skins but..”

Beanie baskin took that treat she snatched it - she ain’t even askin

The squad bod - a group of ghost friends share one body in which they have to live their lives -

My playlists are a matter of fact, not opinion. They reveal truths about the human experience

A cats gorilla imeritive of aesthetics.

I don’t chose them, they are not for joy but for truth. They are not intelligible but feel able

📝 narrative - longing

👼 chaotic

🌾 childlike wonder

Things that seem homo and phobic ATST

- Woodstock

- Brown eyed girl

Life has a funny way of sneaking up on ya when you think everything BG a gone wrong and everything bows up in your face

If women can’t do drag because they have an advantage then what is drag? Is it having good looking tits and a waist ? Looking like woman? or is it about having charisma uniqueness nerve and talent?

Examining Tik toks through different philosophical lenses

What makes it so they put parenthesis around lyrics in a song? What intonations and such make it parenthesis worthy

What’s an article of clothing from your childhood that you viscerally remember for seemingly no reason

I feel like the problem with the property brothers is they had too good of a childhood

Do you ever wonder if personality traits would be diffferntnin different cultures? Would a quiet person be even quieter if they were brought up in North Korea? Or the same amount of talkativity? Do we have the traits no matter what, or are we inclined to be more of one way than the others around us. Are personality traits created by comparison to those around?

Maybe the anxiety comes from knowing your not “supposed” to be as quiet as you are. You don’t really want to talk, that’s okay , but it’s expected that you do. So you are anxiety that your not living up

I find happiness every single day

This feeling has made me so appreciative of my mental state usually. How many people feel like this on the regular? How many people have this as their default? I am so lucky. My default is happy. I have my issues, but i need to appreciate the gift i was given. I was given elation. Childlike wonder. Curiosity. Adventurousness. Self completion and fullness. The rest will come.

If you see a celebrity you want to talk to in public but don’t want to bother them, make sure they don’t see that you saw them and start a fake conversation telling a friend that they should buy a product they are a sponsor for, and that they should use their coupon code. When they approach you to thank you for being such a loyal fan, obviously pretend to be shocked that they just so happened to be there

Christianity excuses selfish politics and beliefs

Things i never would’ve noticed if they weren’t pointed out to me:

-Left and right handed ness

Rating sports teams by uniform colors

Balloon animals but make it clothing!

Logics doesn’t care about your feelings, but it certainly cares about your biasees.

He who findeth keepith, whilst he who loosith weepith.

Religious thought often starts at the conclusion they want and attempts to make arguments justifying it.

Jewish debate starts with an agreement that we are going to follow the book, but argues about what the book truly says. Not good enough when you are still just following the book

Why did Jesus need to die for our sins

Dream - swimming in a lake and bump into something you think is a human tying to save to but is it! Oct 29 9:03

Candle company logo etc

I’m sorry for your loss

It’s not oka

If people can accept that stupid bad jokes can be

Is there a reason for each thing existing? Sufficient reason

Understanding if an area is a matter of perspective or fact? Is it Emperical ?

If you assume you have free will you limit your critical thinking ability and therefor stour actual free will - you need to navigate technology such as algorithms that show you why at you want to see or you completely loose free will - you cannot chose when you don’t even know a choice. there is Somthing controlling you

Revelation is within it doesn’t involve others - can happen in a moment

Revolution- requires work and years and years of convincing others m

What counts as a second chance? What counts as a first chance? What does giving someone the benefit of the doubt entail ? Letting them out of jail , or letting them have a 2nd term as president.

**Picture of coke or Pepsi book**

Trump supporters be like: THIS is the BALLOt sleepy crooked joe SEND to MY neighbor. So much FOR democracy

One flew over the coup coups nest

Ashge-nazi = Jewish trump supporter

The heathers of the USA are Cali, New York and Texas. Florida, too

Shape shifting would solve all of this. I could go to Washington DC, pretend to be trump, concede then leave. It would be hilarious, however if me and trump looked identical and had to so the most idiotic crazy shit to prove to America that we indeed are the true DJ.

Coup busting outfit - light cute short sleeve camo shirts , army green super utalitarian cargo pants , double sash belts in leather with grommets studs or spikes (to be decided by team (with democracy) or left up to the individual) leather (vegan available) lace up knee high boots (maybe with spikes if not too 2012) and the pies de resistance two army green denim shoulder high gloves that fold down as far as needed for the comfort of the fighter. Will be adorned with patches decided by the wearer. Edges will be frayed to honor to the coup busting aesthetic and spirit of the endeavor. We can decide on a signature lip color, but spf is required for all fighters. Of coarse we will have those football stripes below the eyes, don’t be stupid.

How far away can something be from a face and still have humans think it’s a face

Senator Portman - i hope you are well, and want to thank you for the hard work you have put in to this election. However, it has become abundantly clear that joe Biden and Kamala Harris have secured more than enough electoral and popular votes to warrant recognition as president and vice elect. Upon reading the transcripts of he hopeless court cases, there is absolutely no evidence of vote measurable fraud. is time you stand up for democracy and face reality by congratulating he pair on their success. Americans and scared and they need a powerful republican voice to demounce the unsubstantiated conspircy theories that attempt to thwart democracy in this beautiful county. Please do the right thing , and stand with sanity, freedom and democracy. History books and citizens will thank you. May god bless you, your staff and loved ones

Could mermaids exist through evolution in the future

Me learning about real us history - all the nations destroyed by the USA—- I’m the baaad Guy

The rest of the world - duh dodododosodo

Print that looks like a page of writing that has been sourced in water so it’s bleeding and darker in speckles

Zamps= examples

Clothes with green screen cut outs

Robots don’t need to be sentient to destroy us.

Navy mock neck long sleeves big orange and little white stripe on tube cage sides

A veritcal line stretch waistband

Cross cross and straps back

Square high neck

Scarlet polka dots around can light blue text and beach image as front

Blue stroke red inside square, blue triangle rainbow with eye and funky font

Y either know a particular topic or not , but it’s hard to pin down intelligence on one category

Cream background , ice cream pink script name kinda bev hills hotel script looking ish

Move your mouth in a differ way

Supersonic vibrating butt cleaner

Half magenta half red violet a blue teacup in the center with white floral frills thick serif font

Pink background am orange flower in a vase white present ribbon n red as a table

An app that familiarizes people with science - through experimental learning ― hands on experiences that make it seem less top down and authoritarian , and more like a set of steps that we take, things that anyone can do to get closer with nature and the world

A social media philosophy app - teaches what others said and gives people a chance to express their views , postulate, argue, etc gadfly? How would be avoid a shit show, how can we make social media more humanitarian. how can we care about people while also expressing deeply held ideas , how can we encourage users to examine their deeply held ideas without alienating them. How can we discourage hatred and abuse and groupthink with design? How do we slow people down and encourage them to recognize the human behind the screen. Street epistemology? Socratic dialogue?

Socrates - asking questions. Breaking it down to bits. Deeply understanding their argument. Asking about different possibilities and circumstances. Take vast assumptions and show scenarios that make go against them.

Build fact checking into apps

Narrative self vs experiential

Walks you through steps of the sciefitifc method and encourages you to explain how you feel each step actually helped you- then walks you through a scientist doing the same for their reasarch

Republicans only want to be free in the specific ways that benefit corporations

Are Christians more willing to support the death pen early because they already believe in the cruel and overstepping punishment of hell?

Where did the idea come from that you need to remain impartial when trying to persuade

The idea that there is someone in a similar but different dwelling, hearing similar but different sounds and feeling similar but different feelings is wild

We synthesize sets of traits, and particular actions in a super biased culturally constructed way

With the way we see things as humans- we categorize things into groups that aren’t really reaaal ― paratheletic groups

I just want the people and jobs that benefit society

Connection to nietzsches Dionysian art and eckheart tolle/Taoism

No matter your personality, there is probably a part of the world that you would fit in with naturally.

An ordinary girl is selected as one of the representatives of earth in the first meeting of various alien species after one advanced planet discovered and United 10. Confused as to why she was chosen, she goes on her journey meeting

Wha ba Bada da da da da dada he’s a wha ba ba dadada as a matter of fact it’s not my fault if you came up here thinking that you would win

Wanting to break boundaries and rules for the sake those who are hurt by the rules

You are imagining the best case scenario of the life you want to have and experience Ming the reality of the life you so have.

Yes her drips cosmetics line to students i. Class

Chez it people can goldfish people

Your personality flows where a system needs it to go to maintain balance