#i had other diaries and things like that. i move around with them i guess. it depends

[squirmydonnie]

Vent art/ animation

TW: Blood, Religious Trauma

[chatterbox-juice]

GOVERNMENTS! LEADERSHIPS! WOO!! i hate politics but Jamaa having a flag (last time I checked) suggests that there's some type of government or organization right?? like, yeah the jammatians could've just joined together and said something like "we stand together forever" but no. nah. no thank you. SO, i haven't thought about fully implementing this yet, but i kinda want to? hear me out; the lands of Jamaa have different pseudo-governments and cultures. there's only so much you can do in a game that [was] focused about educating kids the alphas don't count here k? Jamaa Township has a council-based "government;" the alphas make decisions. Township is a jack-of-all-trades thing, anyone from anywhere lives there, so the culture is one big loving doting hug of complete fuckery. Nothing makes sense except the things that do. A leopard runs the news station alongside a penguin. A great horned owl is playing the orchestra on top of the diamond shop. Jam Mart is always empty, a room filled with nothing but pillows exists, it's always crowded and nobody knows personal space even if it gutted them. It just makes sense. Appondale and Kimbara, which are in a territory dispute in my rewrite, both have a vague government structure following the same thing; battle. Appondale and Kimbara both LOVE battle, but in different ways. Appondale, and every other land, by default, also has the alphas that live there in charge (ex. Atlas and his pride, Olive, Biff, etc.) Outside of that "official" government, it's a chieftain system. Tribes in Appondale are somewhat isolated. News gets around, but everyone wants to be left alone outside of events. A gathering for something and other happens, Appondalians (?) celebrate and build camaraderie, and then the camaraderie is basically forgotten about when they retreat to their respective tribes, families, etc. Kimbara, being a smaller land in my rewrite, dabbles in military aristocracy. Protection is NEEDED, and since Kimbara is so bare, warlords are celebrated instead of regular chieftains. Tactical brilliance on the battlefield is what earns you respect. If you have a good sturdy build in Kimbara, use it! They're probably more interconnected because of this. Not necessarily hosting meetings per say, but maybe just little things, like marriages between different tribes. Castes most likely exist in families because of this, we'll see.

Being a warlord's offspring isn't earning you any leverage in Kimbara; blood is as thick as water until it's on the ground. Meritocracy but not really but actually kind of.

In Appondale, blood means everything, to the point of family heads being the ones who call the shots for the land, especially noticeable in Atlas' pride, where obviously the males/head of the family is in charge.

also here's proof about my au's map im transferring it to digital rn

[i2sunric]

𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐃𝐎𝐖 (p.js)

PAIRING: hades!jay x persephone!reader

SUMMARY: labelled as unable of being loved, jay decides to steal a mortal to rule his realm with. what he hasn’t expected, though, is that it wasn’t you who he kidnapped, you had stolen his heart.

WARNINGS: kidnapping, enemies to lovers (but only reader hates jay), greek mythology, mentions of other idols as Gods, kisses. lmk if more. NOT PROOFREAD.

PUBLISHED: 22nd December 2024

WC: 3.5k

TAGLIST: (permanent) @stolasisyourparent @jaeyunsbimbo @jwnghyuns @bangtancultsposts @shawnyle @jooniesbears-blog @skzenhalove @ro-diaries @onlyhyunjin @xcosmi @strawberrhypen @heeheeswifey @jakeflvrz @astratlantis @tunafishyfishylike @branchrkive @insommni4 @kirinaa08 @leiclerc @nxzz-skz @laurradoesloveu @beomluvrr @heeshlove @17ericas @riribelle @cloud-lyy @who-tf-soddhi (oneshot) @monstaxdirtywonk @love4choso @heechwe

a/n: guess who’s back, back again. lol, i’m so happy with how this turned out! and i sincerely hope y’all like it too 🩷 have some nice holidays!

The gods of Olympus were never silent. Their laughter and taunts echoed across the heavens, filling their golden halls with noise and light.

Among them, Hades — so few knew him as Jay — was the quiet shadow in their midst.

Rarely did he grace their celebrations, his duties below pulling him away from the vanity of their world.

But he wasn't deaf to their jests.

“He'll never know love," Hermes — whose former name was Jungwon — had said to one banquet, leaning onto his caduceus with a smirk.

"Who would want to walk in those dark halls with him?" Aphrodite chimed in, her melodic laughter cutting through the room.

Jay had sat silent, his face impassive, but their words lodged deep within him.

He had never been a creature of longing— his domain demanded stern control, not vulnerability. And yet, as centuries passed, a hollow ache had begun to grow.

Perhaps the others were right. Perhaps he would remain alone. But then, there was the smallest flicker of rebellion within him.

“Let them doubt me," he whispered, his voice cold as the mist of the Styx. "I will find someone who can see me for what I really am."

♡.

Jay seldom visited the mortal world. It was too loud, too bright, too alive.

But something had pulled him there that day, a whisper in the back of his mind, a tenuous tug he could not ignore. And so, he walked among the mortals, his dark robes altered to blend in with their simple garb.

The sun beat above, merciless. Apollo — also known as Heeseung — really enjoyed making mundanes suffer. Mortals bustled around him, their voices a cacophony of trivial concerns.

He had nearly given up, retreating toward the shaded edge of a golden orchard, when his eyes fell on you.

You stood beneath an ancient apple tree, reaching up toward the highest branches.

Your hands grasped the fruit carefully, inspecting each apple before placing it in your basket.

The sun played in your hair, catching the edges of your figure like a halo. But it wasn't your beauty that arrested him; it was the way you moved— with confidence, with purpose.

Suddenly, a strange thought assailed him: You belonged in no one's shadow. It seemed as if not even the apple’s shadow could make you lose your spark.

A step closer he came, and almost faltered. You laughed softly as you took a bite of the sweet fruit, a slice of sound that cut through the din around him. Something in his chest stirred. An unfamiliar pull, sharp and insistent.

Before he knew better, he acted.

The earth had shaken beneath your feet, and you had stood stock-still, startled.

A chill had saturated the air, unnatural and heavy. You turned, your gaze darting around for the source, but the orchard had fallen silent.

Then the earth rent asunder. Shadows poured from it, twisting and coiling like living things. Swimming around you like water would from a waterfall.

Up from the chasm rose a chariot of black iron, its wheels spinning silently above the broken earth. The horses were ghostly, their eyes glowing like dying embers.

Your breath caught in your throat as a figure stepped from the chariot, the bitten apple falling on the ground, rolling. He was cloaked in darkness, his hood obscuring his face, but his presence was overwhelming.

Power radiated from him, pressing down on your chest like a physical weight.

"Who—" Your voice broke, trembling with fear and defiance. "Who are you?"

He didn't answer, only lifted a hand. The shadows surged forward, binding your legs like chains. You cried out, struggling against them, but they held fast.

"Let me go!" you shouted, anger flashing through your terror.

Jay raised a brow; he moved closer, and for the first time, you caught a glimpse of his face beneath the hood.

His features were sharp, almost otherworldly, and his eyes were a cold, unyielding gray.

"I cannot," he whispered, and then before you could reply, he took you into his embrace.

You struggled against him, your fists pounding against his chest, but it was like hitting stone. He stepped back onto the chariot, holding you fast as the horses reared and plunged into the chasm.

The world above disappeared in a swirl of darkness as you lost your senses.

♡.

When you awoke, you were no longer in the orchard.

The air was cool and heavy, carrying a faint metallic tang that sent shivers down your spine.

You sat up slowly, your heart pounding as you took in your surroundings. The chamber was huge, its walls carved from gleaming black stone that seemed to drink in the dim red light emanating from the ceiling.

And there, sat on an obsidian throne on the other end of the room, was him.

He watched you intently— his hood discarded, with pale skin and a face chiseled, striking yet severe. His dark eyes felt to see right through you, and you hated the way your breath caught under his gaze.

Hades. Ruler of the Underworld.

"Why?" you demanded, your voice hoarse. You stood shakily, glaring at him. "Why did you bring me here?"

"I needed a queen," he said simply, as if that explanation was enough.

You laughed bitterly, the sound echoing off the walls. "A queen? You think I'd ever agree to rule this… this pit with you?"

His expression didn't change, though you could have sworn you saw a flicker of something in his eyes-annoyance, perhaps, or amusement.

"You misunderstand," he said, his voice calm but firm. "You don't have a choice."

That struck a nerve. Your hands curled into fists, and despite the fear twisting in your gut, you stepped closer. "No one owns me," you hissed. "Not you, not anyone.”

For the first time, his calm cracked.

He rose with a slow, deliberate movement, and all the weight of his presence came down on you.

"I am Hades," he said, his voice thundering with power. "God of the Underworld, you are here because I chose you, and you will learn to accept that."

Your heart hammered in your chest, but you refused to back down. "And if I don't?"

The silence hung heavy between you for a moment. Then, to your surprise, he looked away. "Then you'll remain here as my prisoner. Either way, you belong to me now."

You swallowed hard, anger and fear warring within you. But one thought rose above the rest: You will not let him break you.

With the snap of his fingers, two servants in the form of a skeleton appeared in front of you. They looked at you with their void eyes and then turned around, walking.

You glanced up at Jay, who only beckoned you to follow them.

A scoff escaped your lips as you did just that, anything would be better than staying in the same room as him.

The skeleton's bones made a funny noise as they walked you down the neve -ending hallways. The castle was huge, crimson coated the walls as well as dark black.

“So,” you cleared your throat “Is your boss always like that? Or does he change expressions sometimes?” you tried to joke, but the skeletons didn’t reply.

Of course, they didn’t even have lips, “You can’t tell me anything, uh? Not even where the exit is?”

They just stopped in front of a door, opening it for you. Taking the hint, you slowly stepped inside, cautious.

The chamber was so spacious for only one person, a bed stood in the middle of the room, its sheets a dark shade of red.

The walls were coated with drawings of black dahlias, the ceiling so high it made you think the room never actually ended.

The skeletons closed the door behind your back, leaving you there, alone.

You walked to the bed, sitting on its edge. At least, the mattress was soft, the sheets silk and warm.

You finally allowed a sob to escape your lips, another followed and then another again.

Gods always did what they wanted, never truly considering someone’s feelings. You hated them, but more than anything, you hated Hades.

Your fingers gripped the sheets, if he wanted a wife, you’d show him just what you were made of.

♡.

The tension hung between you like a storm cloud.

Jay had come to visit you when you woke up, followed by a skeleton that placed a trail of pomegranate on your bed.

You didn’t know how much you slept, neither of it was morning or night. The Underworld had no light.

“I hope the chamber is of your likings.” He spoke after an awkward silence. You dared glance at him, but daren’t reply.

Jay let out a soft sigh, “It is the only fruit that grows in my realm, if you want anything in particular, I’ll have one of my servants fetch you something from the orchard in the Olympus.”

Finally, you reached down, picking up the pomegranate. Its scent was sweet, and the faint shimmer of the seeds made them look like tiny jewels.

Usually, you’d go crazy for the bittersweet fruit, but the Underworld made even that look dead, poisonous.

You turned it in your hands as if inspecting it. "And what if I refuse to eat?" you asked, tone sharp.

Jay's lips quirked in what might have been amusement, though it was fleeting. "You won't," he said simply, his voice soft but sure.

Your glare deepened. "How do you know?"

"Because you don't hate life," he said. "Even here, in this place you claim to despise, you'll find a reason to keep going.”

The words struck deeper than you wanted to admit. You opened your mouth to fire back a retort, but no words came.

You picked up one of the seeds between your fingers, observing the way the surface shimmered before finally placing it into your mouth.

The flavor burst on your tongue, sweet and tart, and for a moment, you were reminded of the orchards above— the sun on your skin, the breeze in your hair, the simple joy of being free.

Jay watched you in silence, his expression unreadable. When you finally set the pomegranate down, he inclined his head slightly. "I'll leave you to your evening," he said, turning to go.

So, it was evening.

But before he could go, your voice stopped him. "Wait."

He turned back; his eyes were steady but questioning.

"Why do you keep trying?" you asked, quieter now. "Why not just leave me to my misery? Use me just for your plans?” after all, it would be typical of the Gods.

For a moment, he said nothing. Then, stepping closer, he spoke in a voice so soft it barely carried across the room, “Because I've spent eternity surrounded by shadows, and for the first time, there's a light here."

His words had left you speechless for a moment. He bowed his head slightly and then left the room, the door clicking softly behind him.

♡.

The Underworld had a strange beauty to it, though you’d fought to see it.

The palace gardens, in particular, drew your attention on restless nights— or days. They were like nothing you’d ever encountered in the mortal world.

The flowers glowed faintly, their petals a soft silver-blue, and streams of water that sparkled like liquid starlight wove between them.

It was here, one evening, that you sat on a stone bench, your eyes fixed on the ghostly blooms. You didn't hear Jay approach until he spoke.

"You come here often," he said, his voice quiet.

You startled slightly but didn't turn. "I don't have many options," you replied, your tone still edged with defiance.

You had tried to wander around the castle, and Jay let you, but whenever you came too close to the exit, a puddle of shadows rose from the ground and brought you back to your chamber.

Jay sat beside you, leaving enough space to show he wasn't trying to intrude. He looked out at the garden, his gray eyes contemplative. "These flowers," he said after a moment, "Only grow here, nowhere else in existence."

You glanced at him, surprised by the hint of pride in his voice. "You care about them?"

"They're life in a place where life shouldn't exist," he said simply.

The words hung in the air between you, and for the first time, you felt a flicker of understanding: the Underworld wasn't just a prison to him— it was a responsibility, a realm he nurtured despite its darkness.

It was the realm given to him by his father, and it was his job to keep it going, no matter how much he despised it.

After a moment, you exhaled, leaning back slightly. "Why do you do that?"

He looked at you, brow furrowed. "Do what?

“Say things that make it hard to hate you,” you said, a faint, reluctant smile tugging at your lips.

You didn’t know how much time had passed, perhaps weeks or months. Time seemed to flow slower there.

But you thought it would be easier to hate him, had he been scarier and less gentle. His sharp edges always seemed to soften whenever you walked into the room, and his clothes clung to his form, revealing a body any girl from your village would go crazy about.

Not that you stared at it too much, of course.

To your surprise, Jay’s lips curved into a faint smile of his own. “I thought you’d hate me forever.”

“I’m still considering it,” you shot back, though the teasing note in your voice was unmistakable.

Jay chuckled softly, the sound low and unfamiliar. For the first time, the weight between you seemed to lift, if only slightly.

“Will you ever let me see the light again? The orchard?” or your family. Would your parents be worried, or had Jay already cast a spell on them?

“Depends,” he spoke, “Will you run away if I do.” fair point. The moment the sun kissed your skin again, you were sure you wouldn’t step inside this gloomy castle anymore.

Seeing your lack of reply, Jay just got up and turned around, murmuring “That’s what I thought.”

And for a seconds, you thought you saw something like hurt flicker in his eyes.

♡.

More time passed, and though you had resisted at first, you found yourself softening toward Jay. He had a quiet strength about him, a steady patience that wore down your walls like water against stone.

You spent most of your days in the library. Though your eyes weren’t used to the light anymore, your imagination worked just as fine.

You daydreamed of the life outside the suffocating walls of the Underworld’s castle, you dreamed of someone rescuing you.

And sometimes — but just sometimes — you fantasised about Jay, and his heart made of iron.

One night, as you sat by the fire in the great hall, he joined you, a small bundle wrapped in dark cloth clutched in his hand. "I have something for you," he said; his voice held a rare note of uncertainty. You lifted an eyebrow, curiosity pricked despite yourself. "Another 'gesture'?"

"Of a sort," he said. He unwrapped the bundle, revealing a delicate necklace of silver and black opals.

The stones shimmered like starlight, their glow faint but mesmerizing.

You stared at it, then at him. "Why?"

"It reminded me of you," he said simply. "Strong.. luminous, unyielding."

Your heart skipped a beat, though you fought to keep your expression neutral. "You think flattery will make me forgive you?"

"No," he said, holding the necklace out to you. "But it's the truth."

You hesitated, then reached out to take it. The metal was cool against your skin and for a moment, an odd sense of belonging overtook you, like this place, this moment wasn't entirely foreign.

"Thank you," you said softly and surprised yourself.

Jay's eyes relaxed, and for the first time, you saw not the god who had stolen you but the man beneath— the one who had spent centuries in solitude, yearning for connection.

for someone understanding, someone to love. Perhaps, you could learn to be just that.

You handed the necklace back to him, he looked at it, hurt. He thought you had rejected his gift, but as you turned around and held your hair up, his breath hitched.

“Would you help me put it on?” you questioned, your voice soft, unlike the usual bite it held.

“Of course.” Jay murmured quietly, his touch gentle as he put the jewel around your neck.

It fit perfectly, the dark necklace adorning your once tanned skin.

You smiled. holding it between your fingers, “It’s beautiful.”

He smiled.

Your eyes widened when he took in the sight, he smiled so warmly, and for a moment he even looked human.

“You’re beautiful.” Jay spoke, his voice so soft.

“Hades—“ You said, but he shook his head “Call me Jay.”

You gulped, the room suddenly feeling too hot, “Jay.” you repeated, the name rolling sweetly down your tone.

He let out a soft groan, like it both pained and healed him.

“I know you keep thinking ‘Why me?’” He murmured, caressing your cheek. The first time his skin met yours voluntarily “But for me, it has always been you— from the moment I saw you picking those apples, my heart belonged to you.”

You didn’t even have time to think about it, but your feet went on their tip-toes as you pressed your soft lips on his.

To say he was taken aback was an understatement. His eyes wide as body rigid, and for a moment you thought if maybe, he didn’t love you as much as he claimed.

But then, his hand held your face, the other tangled in your hair as his own lips moved on yours passionately.

Your fingers curled around his shirt, grounding you as uou got lost in the taste of him.

You took the hand that was on your cheek and guided it to rest on your racing heart, “Maybe you have the same effect on me.” You murmured on his lips.

His eyes darkened and he pulled away, “Will you marry me?”

You blinked faintly, your breath hitching at his straight-forwardness.

“Do I have a choice?” He stepped away, his breath still heavy from the kiss, “Yes— yes, I’m giving it to you right now.”

Your brows furrowed, so he added “If you think your future still belongs in the Olympus, then go. The door is actually just around the throne room.”

Jay gulped, hope flickering in his usually gloomy eyes “But if you have some sense of future here, with me, then stay. Stay and let me be your husband.”

You clenched your jaw and looked at the door of the throne room. If you exited it and followed the long hallway, you would be out.

You would see the light, feel the sun tickle your skin, see your family, your friends.

But you weren’t sure that was what you wanted anymore.

Your eyes set again on Jay. His expression had lost hope, like he had already lost.

But you smirked, crossing your arms over your chest “So,” you cleared your throat “When’s the wedding?”

A smile, brother than Apollo’s sun lit up his face as he closed the distance he had put and claimed your lips once more.

“Whenever you want, Y/N.”

♡.

In time, the Underworld became your home. Though the darkness remained, it no longer felt oppressive. The palace, once cold and foreign, now echoed with your laughter. And Jay, once a figure of hate, had become something else entirely.

One day, as you stood by the garden's edge, watching the silver streams flow, he approached you. His steps were quiet, but you felt his presence before you turned.

"You've changed this place," he said, his voice filled with quiet reverence.

You looked at him, a faint smile playing on your lips. "And you've changed me.

He reached out and took your hand in his, holding it to his lips and pressing a soft kiss on the ring. For a moment, neither of you spoke, the silence between you heavy with meaning.

Then he bowed his head slightly, his voice a low murmur "Will you teach me how to love you right?”

You looked at him, at the man who had once been your captor but was now so much more.

Slowly, you nodded. "I will."

[princessbrunette]

stepbro!johnb knew it was wrong. god, he knew it was demented, and sick — but he couldn’t stop. he was pent up.

things had been kind of a mess lately, and despite popular believe, no — finding and hunting treasure was not all sunshine and rainbows. it was a lot of dead ends, a lot of waste bins filled with screwed up paper covered in ideas and plots that were going nowhere. sometimes you had a piece of paper, a pen, a map and a dream — and that was it.

john b could have sworn he saw you scribbling away during a plotting session in this specific pink paperback journal. it looked like any other notebook you’d use to jot down everyone’s ideas. you weren’t too good at the whole treasure hunting thing yourself but you were eager and had the right spirit so the pogues could often rely on you to scribble down anything important they might say during these sessions in which they’d bounce off eachother. this was why john b picked the book up and opened it in the first place.

once he started reading, even past realising that this was infact your diary — he just couldn’t stop.

“oh, uh…” he coughs awkwardly to an empty house when he flips it open and finds his own name in pink glitter pen, hearts and swirls galore. you hadn’t exactly been subtle about your attractions towards your older step brother— never missing an opportunity to bat your lashes up at him, touch his chest whilst you’re talking to him, even find a way to sit on his leg when there was just no other room — but for the most part he assumed you were just teasing in your own cruel way. passing the time, so to speak. he wasn’t expecting this.

his eyes continue to flit from word to word, each more graphic than the last until he’s stumbling across full descriptions, day to day on what you’d do to him, moreso what you’d let him do to you.

‘john b was so frustrated today. he needs me, i know he does. he has that look in his eye! that super frustrated one that looks all tired and irritated and unlike himself. he’s usually so warm and comforting but today he looked like he was gonna snap. i thought he might finally march over and bend me over… a girl can dream i guess :( when i finallyyyyy got some alone time i spent it grinding against my pillow, wanting him to come in and catch me. i wonder if he heard the bed moving… if he hears me moaning… i don’t wanna be a virgin anymore, need john b to come and break me in :( ♡’

the more he reads, the harder he gets against his shorts— sighing out his nose, blinking in discomfort as he adjusts himself. he looks around, knowing you were at the beach with kiara but still feeling paranoid. it’s one thing to have such dirty thoughts about your step-brother, but atleast they were private. john b gets caught reading them? he’s the bad guy.

he tells himself it’s not you doing this to him. it was simply his anatomy betraying him. he couldn’t help how his body reacts.

he feels dirty when the tip of his cock grazes the pages, now sat on the edge of your bed like he could jump up at any minute given the sound of the front door closing. he’s turned the page, landing on a particular fantasy that had his hand moving and cock leaking before he could dare to question the morality of it all.

‘john b looked so good today :( i love when he bosses me around all big brother like ♡ he doesn’t even realise he’s doing it, it’s like second nature for him to look after me. wanted to sit between his legs and make out with his dick :( i bet it’s so pretty and i know it’s big cos sometimes he doesn’t wear boxers under his pants and i see it swinging it around. wanna suckle on it whilst he tells me im a good girl like he did that one time when i was sad. his voice just gets me so wet, can’t stop humping everything n rubbing my clit whenever he leaves the room. i’m like an animal and im not even ashamed anymore. i need him :(’

the brunette groans as he squeezes his eyes shut, fisting and twisting the way he imagines your smaller hand to— inexperienced yet with a feverish hunger to please and a vast knowledge of sex which he could only imagine was learnt through word of mouth and porn. god, the thought of his sweet little step sister sprawled on her back, legs splayed open — pawing at her glossy cunt as she scrolls to find the perfect porn video. it was enough to send john b mad.

he wondered if you tried to find pornstars that looked like him, or if you just used your imagination for that part. john b liked to think himself a humble man, but in the throes of his passion he couldn’t help but accept the warm embrace of the ego trip the thought gave him.

“oh fuck, so wrong — so fucking wrong—” he strains, feeling that burning hot twisting in his stomach as that familiar feeling overcomes him. he clearly hadn’t thought this through, before when he opens his eyes once more — he’s covered your delicately decorated page containing your fantasies with his white hot sticky syrup. “ohhhh god. oh no.” he hums, eyes widening slightly.

yet there was no time to act— for as soon as he’d realised, he could hear the jangling of your keys and your familiar giggles as you lead your new-ish friend into the chateau, probably moments away from singing out his name, wondering if he’s home. he slams the book shut and he’s sure it oozes from the edges of the page— stuffs it back beneath the pile of clothes on your chair where he found it and makes quick work of tucking his deflating cock back into his pants.

john b fears he might be in big trouble.

[chiiyuuvv]

jo's diary ★

classmate!jo 1.2k words

notes! inspired from "when &t likes you" brief of harua, taki, maki, and being drunk

▸ 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘺?

august 2th, friday, 11:20 am

dear diary.. never thought i’d be writing in my journal during school hours, i must have accidentally slipped it in my bag when i was studying with maki last night. i know i should be paying attention to my lecture, but i can’t focus when she’s around. i have no clue what her name is, but i know she’s the prettiest girl i’ve laid my eyes on. apparently her class dispersed, or did she need to have a word with my teacher? i can’t remember, my mind went blank when she stepped in the room. anyways, there’s a test coming up and i really need to focus, no matter how difficult it is. cya :) 

6th, tuesday, 9:39 pm

i saw her again, the pretty girl. i bumped into her in the hallway.. literally. she was carrying some books and couldn’t see what was in front of her while i was zoned out on my music. her books fell when we collided, and i quickly rushed to help clean up the mess. i didn’t even realize it was her until we made eye contact. truthly, i had forgotten all about her after she entered my class, so imagine how shocked i was when i saw her again. she looked.. so precious up front, i completely froze when our eyes locked. there’s so many things i wanted to say, so much i wanted to do, but our time was cut short when the ball rang. she mustered a small, very cute “sorry,” took her books out of my hands, and ran to class. i was still frozen solid. i even got a tardy for being late. i’m such a loser.

8th, thursday, 7:56 pm

i don’t know what came over me, but i asked for the pretty girl’s name today. it’s y/n.. it suits her well. i learnt she has a tendency to carry large books half her size everywhere, so i offered to take them off her hands. at the time, it felt natural to want to help her but to think about it, that was so weird. everyone knows me as the quiet guy, i don’t know when the random surge of confidence blossomed. i’m sure my friends are probably cheering me on, that is.. if i told them about y/n. i’m keeping her as a secret as of now, i don’t want someone like taki scaring her off. that is, if she even likes me. i doubt it, she’s so out of my league. 

10th, saturday, 3:21 am

she has the cutest giggle, it keeps ringing in my head. i can’t get her out of my mind.

12th, monday, 7:39 pm

i didn’t know y/n had the same bus route as me. as soon as i got onto the vehicle, she immediately waved me over so we could sit together. it warms my heart that she got excited to see me all because i helped carry her books. she’s so funny, my face hurts from smiling so much. and she’s also so sweet! she gave me snacks during the bus ride. i think i’m falling for her.

21th, wednesday, 6:28 am

i have a habit of carrying her books, therefore walking her to class. she’s says i’m so cute for helping her everyday, and i told her she’s even cuter. i don’t know what type of demon possessed me to say that, it just flew out my mouth. i thought she would get so uncomfortable from my remark, heck, even hate me, but she only laughed. the cutest laugh, i should say. i watched her cheeks pinken, and she had this little smile tugging at her lips whenever she looked at me. she’s so adorable, i can’t wait to see her today.

22th, thursday, 9:38 pm

i’m going to kill maki, WHY would he shout “jo’s got rizz!!” when i’m talking to the love of my life? i meant y/n. what does rizz even mean??? i definitely need to study english more.

23th, friday, 10:47 pm

the confident surge came back. this time it was even worse. i asked her out to lunch, and then her number. i guess that’s pretty tame for others, but i’m scared of making the first move. it makes me feel vulnerable. y/n was pretty chill about it, so it made me feel better about my actions. she’s so good at assuring me with things. the boys said i had hearts in my eyes while i was eating lunch with her. it probably was true considering butterflies kept roaming in my stomach from talking to her. anyways, should i put one heart beside her contact name, or two?

27th, tuesday, 8:29 pm

i’m still shaking from what happened a few hours ago. y/n invited me for ice cream after school and of course i said yes. i could never say no to that ball of sunshine. i offered to walk her home after. i was talking about something stupid when she suddenly walked super close next to me, the back of her hand brushing against mine. my heart jumped at the contact. i noticed her getting quieter as we talked, and i kept seeing her steal glances at me out of the corner of my eye. help, i got so nervous, i kept stuttering T_T and when i was about to drop her off at her house, she grabbed my face and kissed my cheek. i’m so.. i.. she ksiised mj ceek seh kassid..

28th, wednesday, 11:38 am

i bought her flowers. i bought her flowers. i bought her flowers. and then i gave them to her in front of her friends. speaking of her friends, they’ve been smirking and nudging y/n whenever i’m near. harua was with me when it happened, and he says y/n likes me. does she? there’s no way.

september 7th, saturday, 2:39 am

there was a party a few hours ago, and now y/n is asleep in my bed. i’m on the couch right now. i’m not even sure what happened, i’m still a little buzzed from the drinks. all i know is we were partying, and then i took her to my place with our hands intertwined. did i kiss her? i can’t remember anything.

7th, saturday, 8:00 am

i woke up just now feeling something heavy in my arms. turns out it’s y/n. she must have sleep walked out of my bed and to the couch, and now her face is nuzzled in my neck. i never thought this would feel so comfortable. 

21th, saturday, 12:00 am

dear diary.. after a few weeks of stressing out, i finally asked y/n out on a date. i’m so thankful for the boys and her friends for help because i was such a nervous train wreck. she looked so cute, all dressed up with a necklace i bought her a few days prior. we laughed so much, our time together was very memorable. i kissed her goodnight as well. her lips tasted like sweet strawberries. my heart is still swooning right now, and i doubt i’d be able to get a lick of sleep tonight. still, goodnight diary, and goodnight y/n, my pretty girl ♥︎

︴bonus! think i got a little carried away.. heh. anyways its midnight and i should be sleeping rn but wtv wtv wtv. ALSO it's "bandtober" meaning my updates will be slower than usual. see you in november!

▸ taglist 📬 @cherrycolaberry , @slytherinshua , @enhacolor , @lakoya (welcome!!)

🎬 navi

@chiiyuuvv on tumblr . do not steal works/headers/line dividers

[diorgirl444]

to all the greasers i’ve loved before - chapter 1.

warnings: bad writing (my first time writing a multiple part fic ), don’t let the picture of dallas fool you he barely features in this chapter i’m afraid, fem! curtis reader though it is never specified whether the reader is a bio daughter or adopted and so can be read as either, doesn’t follow book canon, 1060 words <3

you had always loved love. your parents were more than happy to recount stories of how you would wander around the house dressed in your nightdress with the lace curtain over your hair clutching onto a small posy of daisies and dandelions. you had called it playing weddings and it was your all-time favourite game.

this obsession with love trickled into other things with most of the cookies you baked being heart-shaped or being the only person to still give everyone, even the weird kids handmade valentines after it was deemed uncool at about thirteen. yes, you loved love but there was an important differentiation, you loved the idea of it. so you supposed it was natural that you began to write love letters the way some people wrote diary entries.

you kept them in a teal silk hatbox of your mothers which had long since lacked the hat intended to be in it. there was one letter for every boy you had liked at one time - five in total. Bryon from volunteering at the hospital, Johnny from freshman homecoming, Dallas from two summers ago, Randy from Model Un and Keith since forever. you supposed your letters were less i love you love letters and more goodbye love letters. they were a way of accepting the crush whilst also allowing yourself to let go and move on. that you could sing to the Ronettes and not be singing about him, that you could buy milkshakes at the diner and not wonder which flavour he’d choose. the letters set you free - at least they were supposed to…

Keith Jacobs was a friend of your brothers but you’d always been a bit in love with him. his mother moved to Tulsa all alone with one son and a baby girl just across the street from you and so your parents, lovely people that they were invited the Jacobs round for a fried chicken dinner. you made a peach cobbler for dessert and when Keith asked for seconds - you glowed with pride. by the time he’d finished his third helping you’d already decided what shade of white your wedding dress would be and from that day he was practically always at your house. there was time when it was the four of you, Daryl, Soda, Pony and Keith but then your parents died and it all changed.

Daryl had to grow up and then the other three all started hanging out later and getting into fights which was fine because you had Angela and Sylvia. well, you had Sylvia till the summer before high school. then suddenly over that summer, she started smoking cheap cigarettes and wearing tight jeans where you were still happy to read a silly romance novel and bake cookies. angie was more like Sylvia really but she was like a street dog who you’d given a treat to - loyal to a fault and kept coming back.

which leads you to where you are now, the last day before junior year and the house is packed. you and Daryl were determined to keep up the tradition of home-cooked meals, mainly for Ponyboy but if you were honest with yourself sometimes as you mashed the potatoes with the radio turned up you would close your eyes and pretend your parents were slow dancing behind you. it turned out that most of your brother's friends didn’t normally eat well so they would often come round too. privately you wish they wouldn’t, they were too loud to you with no manners and they didn’t wash their hands before they ate. but for Ponyboy, the baby of the family you put up with it. You break out of these thoughts when Two-bit speaks, because as you hate to remember he’s Two-bit now not Keith anymore.

“guess who scored themselves a girlfriend”

You choke on your broccoli as all the boys cheer and clap him on the back. your ears ring and you feel like you’re gonna be sick. quietly you whisper to Daryl.

“I don’t feel very well. I think it’s my monthlies - I’m gonna go to bed”

he nods ruffling your hair affectionately as if you're still five and not almost seventeen. you don’t mind - that’s Darry’s way - playing dad to you and your brothers.

“g’night kid I’ll bring you some hot cocoa up and one of those hot water bottles wrapped in a towel.”

as you retreat to your bedroom with tears stinging you hear a chorus of “goodnights” and “feel better soon” from all apart from Dallas. despite your pain you still have the energy to roll your eyes, god forbid Winston cares about someone other than himself for once.

once you clasp your box and retreat under the floral quilts that your mom made you finally allow the tears to fall as you reread the letters. you decide tomorrow you’ll draft a new letter for two-bit, an official goodbye to the foolish hope you’ve clung to for so long. You hear the click of the look, and hastily you shove the letters back into the hatbox and wipe any resounding tears. Pony perches on the edge of your bed holding out the hot cocoa and water bottle that Darry had promised you.

“sissy, you okay?”

you bite back a laugh when he calls you that, a name that he called you as a baby that just stuck. then you watch his eyes catch the hatbox with curiosity.

“what’s that?”

clutching the box to your chest you speak.

“nothing just an old hatbox of mom’s that I keep recipes in. I’ve been working on a new strawberry shortcake one.”

you lie easily knowing that since that’s Pony’s favourite dessert it’ll distract him. he grins widely at you and you are reminded how young he is like a stab in the gut.

“promise?”

he says holding his pinky finger out.

“promise baby, I’ll see you in the morning okay?”

standing up you say to him as you press a kiss to his forehead and place the box away in the top shelve of your wardrobe. he’s still at an age where he pretends that stuff grosses him out so he scowls childishly as he leaves the room. you slip into your white cotton nightgown and finally let sleep overtake you. you’ll deal with it all in the morning and yet in that weird stage between sleeping and awake, you swear you hear the door open once more…

hope you like it! xoxo, flo <3

@socgf @heart-shqped-box @jujuheartz13 @r0seb100d @cranberrv @anifever @notagreasernotasoc @honeysmoonn for now i’m just tagging all the people who expressed an interest but if you don’t wanna be tagged or wanna be added let me know <3

[lalune9x]

SCTIR Side Story 117: The Time That Doesn't Disappear (1)

Warning: big spoilers for the side story plot, I guess?

How could he sulk over me not telling him about my condition, yet keep his mouth shut when it was the other way around?

Chapter translation under the cut.

---

Side Story 117: The Time That Doesn't Disappear (1)

As I stepped through the dungeon gate connected directly to the mini portal, my heart raced a little. Calm down. Don't get too excited just because this is the last time. Even if things seem like they might go wrong, don't push it. Just think, "It's okay, it might take a little longer," and move on.

I had already let the kids know I was safe, seen their faces, and spent the whole day with them. So, I engraved the phrase "safety first" into my heart once more.

I engraved it, but...

'...It feels like things are going wrong from the start.'

Where was I? I should've landed in the lobby of Sesung Guild, but instead, I found myself in a fog-filled, unfamiliar space. On top of that, I couldn't sense the kids. Yoohyun and Yerim had definitely entered the portal at almost the same time as me.

"Yoohyun~ Yerim~"

No response. Did I get separated from them? I waved my hand through the fog, then pulled out the Godslaying Spear. Black flames erupted, instantly pushing back the hazy mist, revealing the floor and walls. The ground and walls came into view. It wasn't outdoors—it seemed like I was indoors. As I intensified the flames, the fog thinned even more, revealing the interior more clearly.

It looked like I hadn't been thrown somewhere entirely different after all.

'It's Sesung, huh.'

To be precise, it was Sung Hyunje-ssi's house—the one I had blown up. The ceiling-high bookshelves, the large windows letting in dim light. The spines of the books were made of various materials, but none of them had any writing on them. The sight was a little eerie. If a world were to be consumed, I supposed this was how it might be erased. Not that we had to worry about that happening anymore. Our little Bin-ie wasn’t that much of a glutton.

With gentle flames surrounding me, I turned around. On the other side of the study, I noticed a figure sitting in a chair. If anyone were to appear here, who else would it be but a certain Mr. Sung? I took a few steps toward the figure lounging with his arms draped over the armrests, but then suddenly stopped in my tracks.

Something felt off. The way he looked at me, the slouch of his limbs, and the tilt of his neck—it all seemed strangely unnatural.

Because, when it came to Sung Hyunje-ssi, there was actually not a single person who could claim to know him better than I did. Though things were much more comfortable between us now, at first I had just been an F-rank beside an unpredictable and dangerous S-rank. Naturally, I'd had to stay on high alert, constantly trying to figure out what that guy was thinking and what he was going to do. Even after we got closer, Sung Hyunje’s unpredictability meant I never stopped observing him. If I'd written down all my observations in a diary and submitted it as a summer vacation assignment, I probably would've gotten five 'Great Job!' stickers from the teacher.

So, over time, I got to the point where I could tell things like, 'He’s tilting his head 5 degrees to the left, that means he’s losing interest,' or 'He's touching his left sleeve with his right hand, that means he’s not having fun but is willing to put up with it for a bit longer,' or 'His left foot is dragging slightly—he’s about to do something unexpected!' I’d become pretty familiar with Sung Hyunje-ssi’s behavior.

So I could tell that the thing sitting in that chair was a fake; just a shell that looked like him. For one thing, I had never seen Sung Hyunje sit like that before. His posture was off, with his back too close to the chair and his legs in the wrong position. Most notably, his hand was casually hanging off the armrest.

"There aren't many options to choose from, if I ask what you are. Are you a time fragment from before the regression?"

The thing wearing Sung Hyunje's form slowly opened its mouth.

"Correct."

"Oh, you can talk. Why are you wearing someone else's shell?"

"...My…?"

The time fragment hesitated, as if uncomfortable with referring to itself independently. It wasn't showing as much hostility toward me as I expected.

"For now, it is because this target retains most of... my… influence. The Sesung Guildmaster. Kang Soyoung would also qualify, but it is easier to borrow forms that are hazier in the current world's perception."

"Those two did remain mostly unchanged."

Yoohyun, Yerim, Peace, Director Song and most others had returned to their original positions, but Kang Soyoung and Sung Hyunje remained unchanged. And because Sung Hyunje-ssi stayed the same, Sigma and the Puppeteer couldn't go back either.

"Is it because his influence on Soyoung-ssi was especially strong? He did turn an A-rank into a born S-rank."[1]

"That's one reason, and Sung Hyunje also took on Park Yerim's distortion in her place."

".......Sung Hyunje-ssi, really."

I'd had a suspicion, and it had turned out to be true. Yerim had changed as much as Soyoung-ssi, but then had reverted in an instant.

"So he took on the distortion while taking on the role of the Ruler of Water?"

"Yes. That's why Kang Soyoung, who was connected to him, also remained the same."

…Reverting Yerim's distortion first was indeed the right decision given the situation. Since this dungeon was based on the Mermaid Queen's sea, Yerim being swayed by the time fragment would have been the most dangerous scenario. And if Yerim were my opponent, I would have hesitated to fight her. Even if she may have grown older on the outside, she was still a child inside.

'If I got hurt, Yerim would feel hurt too.'

With people like Sung Hyunje-ssi, Hyuna-ssi, and even Yoohyun, one could say 'as long as they're alive, it's okay' and charge forward.[2] But Yerim wasn't like that. Resolving Yerim's distortion had been the most urgent priority, but…

'How could he not say anything?'

I mean, there were probably reasons like him being worried that the time fragment would notice, but I was still somewhat upset. How could he sulk over me not telling him about my condition, yet keep his mouth shut when it was the other way around? There must have been some way he could've told me, so was this just his manner of making me understand how he had felt?

But come to think of it, this wasn't the first time that guy Sung Hyunje had done something like this. Right after the Gardener died, he went off and got captured by the Crescent Moon without saying a word. Would it have killed him to say "please save me" before getting captured?

I was upset for a moment because of all the grievances that had built up, but I calmed down and looked at the time fragment again. It was being surprisingly courteous. It even explained things well.

"You're pretty good at speaking. I thought you might have some intelligence since you've manipulated the system before, but you're more human-like than I expected."

"That is because intelligence comes from the accumulation of memories. The time fragments from before the regression are more precisely collections of memory. It is natural that intelligence would emerge when those discarded memories gathered together."

— 'That's right, hyung! Intelligent beings are essentially born when they develop a foundation for passing on and accumulating memories and records!'

A familiar voice suddenly burst out. Park Hayul–I was actually glad to hear from him right now!

— 'The most common form of record is writing, but there are other forms too! There are even memories built up through cannibalism!'

The voice came from much farther below than I expected. I quickly lowered my gaze to see a small, 30-40 cm tall flower walking toward me.

Sitting on the flower's head, in the middle of its round, open petals, was a tiny version of Sung Hyunje.

...What the heck?

— 'Because one needs to be able to write precise characters, fingers or tentacles are useful. Haneul said that if octopuses had nurtured their offspring, there might've been two intelligent species on Earth.'

That damn octopus again. I glared at the tiny Sung Hyunje who had appeared so shamelessly. 

Feeling my gaze, Sung Hyunje shrugged his shoulders and said, "Should I have given myself wings after all?"

"...What nonsense are you talking?"

"Because my dear partner is giving me a look as if he'll grab me and throw me at any moment."

"I'm more tempted to sew shut that mouth of yours for only ever spouting useless things. Either you don't say the things that need to be said, or you twist things around, or you laugh about things only you understand. And then you nag at me for not being honest with you? You really have no conscience."

At my words, Sung Hyunje adjusted his posture to sit more respectfully. Maybe he wasn't completely devoid of a conscience after all.

"In the future, if you're going to be kidnapped or lose your memories or arm or whatever, let me know in advance. The same goes for any similar situations. Then I'll find a way to save you somehow."

"I'll keep that in mind."

At least he answered well. Once Yoohyun got all his memories back, I would have to give him the same warning—no more running away; just talk things out. I should say the same to Yerim and the kids, too.

— 'If I give you a heads-up before getting kidnapped, will you also come save me, hyung?'

"Well, for now, yes. You've been helpful too, Hayul. But don't go staging a fake kidnapping."

— 'Hyung...!'

Park Hayul was touched and started dancing with joy, nearly dropping the tiny Sung Hyunje.

"So, what's the situation here? Are the others safe?"

— 'Yes, hyung. You're the only one who got transported somewhere else, so I came looking for you with the Sesung Guildmaster. The water has receded, but the side effect is that there's a lot of fog.'

So it wasn't just here that was foggy. The fog, based on the Mermaid Queen's sea, had made the mana flow unstable, so only the two administrators, Hayul and Sung Hyunje, could come searching for me. Yoohyun and Yerim were probably fine. Hopefully, Yilin and Coral weren't fighting again. With Hyuna-ssi and Director Song coming along this time, they should be okay.

"Anyway, it's good that we can have a talk." 

I turned back to the time fragment and spoke. 

"What do you want? All I want is to fix the distortion, return home safely, and live in peace. So let's try to settle this through conversation."

The time fragment shifted its gaze toward the tiny Sung Hyunje, looking slightly uncomfortable, before changing into Kang Soyoung's form. 

"We merely exist. Just like the past you had thought was gone, which still lingers and influences the present and future. That's all."

"That's all, huh?"

"The time fragments absorbed into people also still exert a subtle influence. Unless there is a significant trigger, they will proceed similarly towards the forgotten future; doing the same things, meeting the same people, and having the same children."

I'd heard something similar from Myungwoo and Haneul before.

"I, we, haven't changed from what we were. Only our influence has grown stronger. The distortions you speak of are a natural result of that."

— 'That's not exactly wrong! After all, the time before the regression is part of this world's timeline too. In a way, it's not so much a distortion as a potential outcome.'

That guy Hayul said something Transcendent-like. Hey, weren't you supposed to always be on my side?

"So, you don't particularly want anything? Can I assume you'll just disappear quietly?"

"As long as we exist, we naturally have an aversion to disappearing. It's more of a reflex than a conscious decision. And, Han Yoojin, we cannot disappear."

The fragment's deep blue eyes were fixed on me as it spoke.

"Because we are the future, but also the past. So long as there are those who look back on that past and sink into regret."

"...Are you talking about me?"

"All intelligent beings in this world."

"So you're saying you'll never truly disappear."

Did anyone truly exist who had never once thought, 'ah, if only things had gone differently back then'? We all had such regrets every day, even over something as small as ordering jjajangmyeon instead of jjamppong or thinking, "I should've woken up 10 minutes earlier."

I did, too. I still had regrets about the time before the regression. Even if I told myself that turning back time was the best choice, I still could have spent the remaining time with my younger brother better. We could have reconciled earlier and spent time together before saying goodbye. No, at the very least, I could have forced myself to visit one more time, called one more time, not blocked his number, and kept sending messages. Yoohyun would surely have read them all.

Perhaps it was impossible to completely shake off such regrets. After all, it was because of those lingering attachments that I had endured until now and learned to embrace those around me more closely.

I sighed deeply, my heart aching slightly as I forced a small smile.

"Yeah. You'll remain as you are, forever lingering. Because every now and then I'll look back and feel that longing. Until the very end, without forgetting."

If anything, if someone told me to forget or offered to erase my past, I would refuse.

"But we should still weaken you back to your original state. Hayul, if what it says is true, let's update the records to say we're 'purifying' the time fragments through dungeon clearing."

— 'I'll change it to 'purification.' It seems the time fragments will return to something closer to harmless, like before.'

"Good. Nothing much has changed, then. But why did you come out here to see me in person?"

The time fragment, still in Kang Soyoung's form, stumbled slightly as if unused to handling a human body. It smiled at me while awkwardly moving its muscles.

"After all, we were born because of you," it said. "We wanted to tell you about us. And we wanted to hear from you too."

Hearing it put that way made me feel a bit guilty about trying to erase them all this time.

"Well, thanks to you all coming into existence, I was able to get another chance. And thanks to that, I've made it this far, and things will probably go better from now on. So, uh... I guess what I'm saying is, thank you for being born?"

Was that right? 

The time fragment nodded at my words. "But since our time is striving to remain as it is, we cannot help you."

"If that's how it has to be, then it's okay. I can live with that." 

Since it was my–our–past, what could we do? The time fragment's form dispersed into the mist. Sung Hyunje-ssi gestured for me to follow him. It was time to complete the final quest.

---

Footnotes:

[1] I don't have context for what happened so I don't know which pronouns to use here. Feel free to tell me.

[2] Same issue; I don't have context so I don't know what the right pronouns are.

[doyelikehaggis]

7 Days of Scarepairs: Denzo | Damon Salvatore x Enzo St. John (The Vampire Diaries) + "Trick or Treaters"

The door went for the millionth time. Damon didn't bother to stifle his groan of annoyance this time, but Enzo was already on his feet and greeting the stupid little brats as they screamed for a treat. He indulged them, chuckling as they shoved their greedy little fists into the bowl and shovelled more than the polite amount of candy into their buckets and bags.

They moved on, and Enzo closed the door just as Damon started to loudly say, "You know, it's called trick or treating. I suggest that next time, we give them a trick."

Enzo shook his head at him, giving him that familiar look as he reclaimed his seat beside him on the couch. "Oh? Let me guess: you want to show a little bit of fang, some black veins and red eyes?"

Damon spread his hands and raised his eyebrows.

"I'm not letting you scare some poor little kids on Halloween," Enzo said sternly, shoving the bowl back onto the coffee table, exchanging it for his glass.

"Why not?"

"Because they're innocent children," he countered like that was obvious before taking a drink of his completely victimless pint of blood. "But if it really means that much to you, then you can answer the door next time it goes and pretend you're wearing makeup."

The door went again, right on time. Damon grinned wickedly as Enzo lowered his glass, clearly already regretting his words. He looked at him warningly but he had already swiped the bowl from the table and crossed the room in a matter of a second.

He took a moment, his hand poised. Then he flung the door open and left his full vampire face on display. Instead of the expected screams, the two little girls shouted with pure joy. His face dropped as Lizzie and Josie clapped in excitement.

"Really, Damon?" Caroline asked, an eyebrow raised disapprovingly.

Bonnie smiled. "Nice face. Not the most realistic vampire I've seen tonight, though, I've gotta say."

He smiled mockingly back at her. He tossed a miniture chocolate bar into each of the twin's baskets, then he stepped aside to let them in. Bonnie swiped the bowl from his hands on the way past, her face lighting up.

"See, this is why I said we shouldn't answer the door on Halloween," he said loudly and closed the door. "We've been invaded by witches."

"Uh, hello?" Caroline said pointedly.

"Fine, it's three against three," Damon said, walking past her and reclaiming his seat beside Enzo, who was busy complimenting the twins on their very realistic witch costumes. "I'm still not happy about it."

It was Bonnie's turn to roll her eyes at him as she planted herself on the other couch, setting the bowl of candy in her lap. "Come on, I thought you'd get a kick out of Halloween."

"I do, in fact," Damon said. "I love Halloween. I love scaring people to death and drinking from open veins without anyone batting an eye. What I don't enjoy is being stuck in the house all night on the one day of the year when I could be doing any number of things instead."

"Well, most of the trick of treaters are going home now," Bonnie said with a shrug. "So, if you wanted, you could come out with us. We're going to get these two home and in bed, then we were gonna go to the Grill."

Caroline flashed a genuinely excited grin as she said, "They have themed cocktails."

Damon glanced at Enzo, who shrugged as if to say, I don't see why not.

"But one rule," Caroline said, and she pointed right at Damon, "you are not allowed to feed on anyone. At least not anyone in the Grill. It's Matt's rule, and I promised him that none of his employees would be running around with bandages on their necks or wrists."

"I guess dressing up as a mummy was off limits, then," Enzo said in amusement, knocking back the rest of his glass.

"Funny," Caroline said dryly, her eyes narrowing.

Damon helds his hands up. "Fine, we promise. Anything is better than hearing one more knock on that door. I might actually kill someone."

Bonnie threw a bonbon at him in warning. He popped it into his mouth and winked, but when prompted by Caroline, both he and Enzo promised that they wouldn't harm anyone at the Grill.

"Although, technically," Damon said as they were about to leave, shrugging on his leather jacket, "it's not harming them if they're not compelled and they want it, right? Halloween brings out all kinds of freaks, you know. A lot of people love vampires."

Caroline scoffed in disgust and ushered Lizzie outside to join Bonnie, who already had Josie in her arms and was using magic to move the detachable spider on her wrist, making her laugh as it crawled up onto her shoulder.

He raised his eyebrows at Enzo, who returned the gesture, a particular hunger flickering in his eyes. Damon grinned and followed him out. Tonight could be fun after all.

[bitchslapblastoids]

You know kudos to dan and phil actually. Their whole "healing your inner child and moving from your past" thing they've been doing in this new post hiatus TIT era has been far more successful that I realised. Im rewatching 2014/2015 era videos (currently festive ditl) and Ive realised for the first time theres no second voice in my head going "dont assume, every interaction doesnt have to mean something, dont speculate" etc. And im simply sitting here, smiling ear to ear, appreciating how much they have always loved each other and how it seeps into everything they do.

Oh this is such a lovely message! I so wholeheartedly agree; they've been so successful!

And yeah, I mean, there’s a reason we’ve been here like 👁️👄👁️ all along, and it’s because they’ve been like 🩵👃🩵 + 🤎👃🤎 all along. But it is nice to not feel like you’re accidentally reading someone’s diary or something every time you notice their loud love. I felt some complicated feelings about some of the reflecting they did in tit, esp wrt Dan’s “retraumatizing” line, but ultimately when I watch old content back now, it's even further expanded my compassion for younger-them and how hard they were trying with absolutely no blueprint while lowkey under siege for such a long time.

But also yeah, you referring to it as the “tit era” makes me think about how deliberately in concert their yt content/social media presence has been with the vibe of the tour.

Do I think their demeanor in vids post-renaissance is partially just way more natural for them and true to how they act irl? Yeah, and there’s definitely the “dan and phil don’t give a fuck” of it all, but also…. They did such a good job this past year of hooking in phannies that had drifted. phannies that were moderately engaged became hyperengaged. They started shining their own spotlight on the corners of their past that only we had been holding in the light; they started being openly sexual where there was once just innuendo; they started even more directly engaging onscreen with everything that had been happening within the fandom offscreen; they broke the fourth wall more than they ever had and kinda stopped pretending it had ever really been there. They knew that we knew that we knew that they knew etc, and now that doesn’t have to be hush hush.

I think a lot of this was preparing their audience for the show, and surely helped with ticket sales. They kicked off the themes of the show long before they even announced it, and their content has mirrored those themes. There's a chance i'm getting this turned around, and the show is reinforcing the themes that they're trying to embody irl/online. i guess i think both are true? but i just don't think we talk much about their strategy because we're busy eating up what they're feeding, creating the exact fervor i think they've been trying to generate for the past year, and relishing in this new paradigm.

I remember seeing @simplydnp's post where they mentioned the react to pinofs being a way to “defang” the whole notion of them facing their history alongside us, to ease us into laying bare a lot of what had been elephants in the room, and yeah, i feel like they've done a clever job getting us accustomed to this feeling of, idk, risk? of opennesss? Of almost almost almost? of love saturating everything they do? Which was always kind of there but more muted and rarely deliberate on their part, it was just what we picked up on because they're loud and obvious. Now they’ve normalized that and given us permission to just openly love all of it.

tldr basically i agree lol

[brokenpieces-72]

In and Out

Navigation

Just want to say thank you so much for your guys love and support on this series. I genuinely appreciate it. My request box is open and empty and I love getting requests, whether it’s AUs or something else. If you want to be tagged let me know.

Milena knocks on your old apartment door. No answer. She knocks again and still no answer. This was ridiculous, what was the point of this? You’re just some tagger running with some men doing who knows what. Honestly she wants to be going over more of the land deals and getting home and health inspectors into that neighbourhood as soon as possible. More evictions more chances to rebuild.

Milena turns to walk away when she sees you, stopping her in her tracks. You have your bag over your shoulder, wearing a hoodie with a leather jacket overtop. You’re wearing a cap you “borrowed” from Kyle, old jeans and gloves. Of course you also had your scarf on.

If you didn’t know who Milena really was you would be wondering why she’s here, but you have some guesses. Before approaching her you noticed her approaching your building. You’d caught a photo and asked for instructions from your friends. You have a small group chat with them but Price and Ghost were busy doing other stuff. So Kyle and Johnny were left to take charge. Kyle suggested hiding and waiting until she left. Johnny said to see what she wants.

Y/N: what do I say if she sees me?

K: Be nice.

J: mess with her!

The texts came at the same time. Then Johnny sent another.

J: Record it too!

Your phone is recording audio, as you simply stand there waiting for the socialite to start talking.

“Sorry do you know who lives here?” She asks you.

“Yep.” You say. There’s a pause as you just stare at her.

“Um, is the landlord here today? I need to talk to him about this apartment. I was told it’s going up for sale.”

“No it‘s not and no you weren’t.” You say with a slight smirk.

“I’m sorry?” She asks sounding irritated.

“Do you want to take a look around? Seriously it ain’t impressive.” You say walking up to her casually and unlocking the door. She steps back as if you were dog rushing up to bark at her. You step inside and hold the door open for her.

“Still occupied, sorry. But it’s the same as every other apartment if you’re interested in moving in. Come in I don’t mind.” You leave the view of the door frame and go to the kitchen, setting your bag down in the corner. Milena can do plenty, but this is your own personal turf.

“Want a drink?” You ask, opening the fridge, and your garbage. Good thing you stopped by to grab stuff, the last thing you want is a mushroom farm in your fridge.

“Coffee or something stronger.” she says, absently surveying your unit.

“Uh… sorry don’t really have… cider okay?” You ask tossing another expired container into the bin.

“It’ll do.” She says, sitting in one of the chairs in the living room as if it were her own office. You shrug it off and get her a can of cider. Oh shit you forgot you had those. Definitely need to take those back with you for a personal pleasure. Hopefully none of them liked popping boba.

“So uh…” you start as you close the fridge. “You trying to evict me? Like the homes down in the south east neighbourhood?”

Milena looks up at you with wild eyes as you hand her the drink as if you found her diary.

“I don’t know what you mean.” She says taking the drink, eyeing the tab.

“New manicure? Here.” You take the drink from her and open it. “So what’s up.”

“I came to give you an invitation to a party.” She says offering you an envelope. You take it and look it over before looking at her.

“How old are you?” You ask.

“Excuse me?” She says offended. Damn she was easy.

“Milena Romanova, realtor and socialite. You make a lot of money in real estate and land deals. Land deals that don’t land the same money you do. Must be good.” Milena looks ticked.

“Now you’re funding the police, making friendly donations and spending time with the chief commissioner.”

“What are y-“

“Just making small talk. A couple guys I know from the precinct told me you guys are dating.” You say reclining on your old sofa, as if it were a throne. Milena doesn’t know what to make of you. You are certainly…different.

“My love life is my own.” Milena states. You shrug. “The invitation is for an event, inviting a few large names from the city. I understand you’re an aspiring artist.”

“Something like that.” You admit. Hopefully she hadn’t seen your most recent work. It may or may not have involved her posing on houses with… unmentionables spilling out the windows.

“I believe this could be a great opportunity for you. I know plenty of large names and often have art showcased at open houses.”

“Not sure I have the money to afford a nice outfit.” You say.

“If you’d like I could buy a couple of your pieces to cover costs. Of course it’s your choice.” She offers. She stands without you giving an answer, and leaving the open untouched can of cider on the coffee table along with the invitation.

“I have places to be. I hope to see you there.” She says going to the door. Milena steps out but turns to address you.

“I should mention, the chief commissioner has been looking for you. I think he’d like to get to know you more. If you don’t mind I’ll let him know where he can find you.” And without another word, she shuts the door. The room is silent. All you hear is the sound of the carbonation from Milena’s open cider. You take the cider and take a swig before getting to work.

Then you hear a noise from one of the rooms. You keep your phone recording, and go to your bag taking out your gun. You keep it pointed to the ground as you get closer to the closed door. You put a hand on the knob before shoving it open aiming the gun at the intruder.

“You mother fucker!” You shout.

“I can explain.” Graves says.

“Like hell you can.” You say. “Also my bedroom, seriously? This is a whole new level of creepy.”

“Thank you I try.” Graves puts sarcastically. “I came to leave you a note, I assumed you’d return. I wanted to warn you about Makarov but… you just had tea time with Milena.”

“Hardly tea time, she didn’t drink anything.” You say. “She follow you?”

“I hope not. Just in case don’t leave for a few hours.” Graves says. You nod understanding. “Stupid question but why are you here?”

“Came to pick up extra stuff.” You say going around him and getting the duffle bag from your closet. You start packing, and your hoodie sleeve slides up again. Graves notices.

“Who grabbed you… or are you and the boys of the 141 getting clo-“ Graves stops the question after you glare at him. “Teasing.”

“…Nolan grabbed me. I don’t know his last name.” You admit. You haven’t told anyone else.

“Does Price know?” He asks. You shrug and focus on packing extra clothes, before going to the bathroom to grab some extra supplies. Graves is quiet.

“You gonna go to the party?” He asks.

“Haven’t decided.” You say.

“Let me know if you want a ride.” He offers. “Take it Milena hasn’t seen your recent work. Hoo boy that’s some slander.”

You look at him, incredulous. “You saw nothing.”

“I saw works of art, and have no clue where they came from.” Graves says raising his hands. You smile a little but he doesn’t get to see it.

“How are you doing?” Graves asks. “You eating okay? Sleeping well?”

“The guys take good care of me.” You say coming back to the bag with a couple of items. You look around the room to see if you’re missing anything else.

“He’s getting close.” Graves says. “Makarov keeps asking me about you, and I’m giving him what I can without putting either of us at risk.”

“I need a favour.” You admit. Graves raises an eyebrow. “There’s a raid planned. The… a gang went to the docks a while ago trying to take down a drug shipment, but the drugs were protected. I know when the next raid will happen, and if you’re there you can look further into it.”

Graves stands there, admittedly surprised. You were giving him a lead, one to Makarov sure, but one that could get the others in shit.

“Send a tip to the station, make sure it comes to me and only me ya got that.” He instructs. You nod.

“Thank you.” You say. Graves gives a nod, and it’s an awkward silence. Graves looks at your wrist again.

“He grab you anywhere else?” He asks calmly. You rub your arm, and Graves sighs. Without warning he holds your shoulders, before pulling you into a hug. It’s oddly nice. A comfort. You can’t talk to Graves much but right now, you feel like you could spill your guts and he would listen.

“You stay safe kiddo.” He says quietly, not expecting you to hear it. You do. And you just squeeze a little tighter. He lets you go, looking down at you. Graves is about to say something but stops himself.

“Chill here, call a ride, go home.” He says. You nod and after a final good bye he walks out into the night.

Milena came over to Makarov’s home, greeting him with a kind smile.

“They’re all sent out?” He asks.

“Of course.” She says.

“Now we wait.” Makarov says. “The pieces will fall where they need to.”

Taglist: @yourlovely-moon @kaoyamamegami @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @sans-chara @1mommyrose4ever29 @tai-the-gemini @yuki2129 @whitetiger846 @graystorm444 @chibiduck @reaperxxxxzz @danielle143 @sobbingnshtting @cringeycookies @cryingpages @smitten-haematite-quartz @dcnocap207

[boxheadpaint]

oh god when did i diary post last. Well as good a time as any

another year older today, though birthday festivities are actually taking place yesterday and tomorrow due to conflicting schedules and hannukah party stuff. spending this last week of DEMBER watching found footage / mockumentary horror and doing my best not to worry as much as usual to varying levels of success. still need to get refill on blood pressure meds because sleep is annoying again thanks.

joycon controller journey where in the end i grab those ergonomic ones which they only had the pokemon print ones in stock but theyre very nice. they make my switch wide and intimidating and it doesnt hurt to use which im not sure why i ever got used to that for normal joycons? I can take a few guesses though namely being yay videogames and being good at ignoring pain until its gone for a bit.

waiting back for exciting surgery news though knowing state health that wont be for a while! in the mean time just gonna look at fish and have a beautiful time. didnt actually super celebrate christmas this year, stayed home with partner. did have a gift from my mom (MICHEAL FATCAT VOLUME 2 LETS FUCKING GO. And a book on color combinations) for it and another for my birthday (immensely sexy natural illustration book) which was very nice and makes me happy. since she moved to mexico our schedules dont line up as well from timezones but the few calls we have had are nice. she got a puppy that made me cry over video from the smallness.

at this point i miss digital art enough that i am willin to brave the overheating and bluescreening of my surface again but maybe instead i could set up some stand made of welded paperclips or something so it can sit up and breathe again. Mom gave me her old one but its windows 11, then theres the yogas that doug has where one doesnt work with my pen and says ACTIVATE WINDOWS in the corner because it was probably some sensitive work thing while the other yoga has like. a mystery charger we have yet to find. we will likely try to downgrade moms from the windows 11 shit as best we can but god im not confident in it.

Every month i think i need to stop worrying about what people will think of my art, that their interpretations dont matter and i am doing what makes me happy and what keeps me interested. i also manage to forget this every month around the same time. i miss drawing very very quickly to make stupid funny pictures for people, its a lot better at conveying how i feel and think than trying to pull from my limited vocabulary. written words are basically just another kind of picture that are funny and dont make any sense in any order you say them and will never get across what you are trying to say.

okami HD was 5 dollars on the switch. its been a lot of fun to play through it again after all this time- when i was a kid i thought after orochi i beat the game and that whatever else was going on was a weirdly long postgame. i stopped at the VERY near end of act 2 because of the fucking blockhead warrior guy was impossible for me. i was trying to get footage of the weakpoints on a flipphone with my family behind me like mission control. now that im an adult man with reading comprehension and a smaller screen with a built in screencapture function im sure i will get just as mad as i did back then.

12/28/2024, I keep accidentally not hydrating enough day-to-day and i still need a shower. gonna go fuckin water mode

[writing-for-life]

Dream’s Therapist

Emotions

I have prepared for today’s session with going over previous notes. I decided to carefully delve deeper into the topic of the client’s own perceived emotional detachment that is so visibly not the case (he feels very clearly, even if he occasionally pretends he doesn’t. We have made some progress in last week’s session that I would like to build on).

The client is on time again (well, slightly early). When he comes into my office, the coat stays on this time. I don’t engage in small talk, as it seems his perceived preference.

DT: How has the thinking and journaling gone since last week? How have you been feeling over all?

Dream (He sits straight as an arrow and doesn’t look at me): I don't feel. I exist. Emotions are for mortals.

DT (I admit to myself that I am a tad disappointed. For him. I thought we were making progress, but it seems we are back to square one): I see. Have you been journaling, as suggested?

Dream (I notice a sigh I can only interpret as dejected): Yes. I did peruse the infernal book. “Dear Diary, a star died. It was mildly annoying.”

DT (I cannot help but think there is more to this than meets the eye and proceed with caution): I guess annoyance is a feeling?

Dream (I notice his stare is even more vacant than usual): I don't feel. The star had unresolved issues.

DT (I notice he projects and is trying to deflect at the same time): We are not talking about the star’s issues though, are we? We are talking about whatever has been going on with you, either over the past week or in general.

Dream: Not today. (The way he purses his lips is reminiscent of someone who has sucked on a lemon, and I get the feeling today’s session will be… difficult. I decide to change tack and revisit the topic dreams and nightmares since he opened, and lightened, up about them the last time.)

DT: Is there anything else you would rather talk about? Your nightmares? Your dreams?

Dream: I don't dream. I weave tapestries of existential dread.

DT (It’s really going backwards now): And what do these tapestries tell you?

Dream (I notice he crosses one leg over the other and leans back in his chair. Not without also crossing his arms in front of his chest): That my thread count is impeccable.

DT (I notice extreme defensiveness and decide on a different course of action): Are you open to trying an exercise?

Dream (I notice the eye-roll): If I must.

DT: There are no “musts” in here. You either decide to give it a shot or you don’t.

Dream (And there is the exhale through his nose): Fine.

DT: Okay. I’d like you to get comfortable in your chair…

Dream (I notice he moves around on his sitbones a bit): Your chairs are not very conducive to comfort.

DT (The chairs are actually very comfortable. He just decided they’re not comfortable for him because he doesn’t want them to be): Get as comfortable as possible then. (I notice some further shuffling, and when he finally settles, his legs are not crossed anymore. His arms, however, stay firmly crossed in front of his chest). If it’s comfortable for you, close your eyes.

Dream: What if it is not?

DT: In that case, keep them open. (I notice he keeps on staring at me, so I decide to just proceed): I’d like you to bring up a kitten playing with a ball of yarn in your mind.

Dream (He actually snorts. I am briefly confused at the unexpected display of amusement. He blinks slowly.): Really?

DT (I mirror his blink): Really.

Dream (He unexpectedly closes his eyes. A brief silence ensues): I can see it. The kitten's existential crisis is palpable.

DT: What else do you sense or feel?

Dream (I notice he opens his eyes and just stares at me. Again…) I feel nothing. Perhaps the kitten should consider therapy, not I.

DT (I decide to call things by their name): What do you think makes you avoid being vulnerable? Around anyone, but specifically around me? (He looks at the paperweight on my desk. I ignore it. The silence lasts for three minutes.) You don’t have to be here if you prefer not to, but you are taking these sessions for a reason. Can you verbalise that reason for me again? (I notice he mumbles something indistinguishable while looking at his boots.) Pardon?

Dream (He looks out the window, clearly avoiding eye-contact, and raises his voice ever so slightly.) I feel uninspired.

DT (I withstand the temptation to point out that he just admitted he feels): And would you like any type of support with feeling more inspired again, or do you think you will be able to solve the issue yourself?

Dream (He looks at me again. Barely. With a dipped chin and through his lashes.): I might appreciate your… expertise.

DT: The delusional one?

Dream (I notice he smiles. A small smile, but it is the first one that is clearly identifiable as such): That, too.

DT: Okay, then let’s keep going and dig a bit deeper. Without deflection and changing the topic—do you think you can do that?

Dream (I notice the smile disappears): I might try.

DT (I nod towards the paperweight): Can you try to pick it up? (He picks it up hesitantly.) No, I said, “Can you try to pick it up.” (He puts it down again and looks confused.) Try again. (He lifts it once more and holds on to it this time.) So did you try, or did you pick it up?

Dream (I notice his eyebrows are knotted so tightly I start to feel sorry for him.): I picked it up?

DT: Right. There is doing or not doing. There is no “trying”. You do something, or you don’t. You trust me or you don’t. Both is fine. You do it, or you don’t. You stop to deflect to get out of discomfort, or you don’t. You pick up the paperweight, or you don’t. It’s always your choice, but it’s a choice you make.

Dream (I notice he stares at me, then the paperweight): I… chose to pick up the weight, and I shall hold on to it for a while.

DT: Good. Let's keep going then. Tell me about your relationships.

Dream (I notice his eyes darting at me quicker than the speed of light. I also notice the paperweight moves in his hands. The silence lasts for seven minutes. He holds on to the paperweight very tightly for a moment and then begins to speak): I had relationships of a romantic nature. To hold on to them has proven to be impossible.

DT: Any idea as to why?

Dream (I notice his voice is very quiet): Because my… feelings (he looks at me briefly before he turns his attention to the paperweight again) are complicated, and they tend to scatter like cosmic dust.

DT: I’ve noticed you like to speak in metaphor…

Dream: As do you.

DT: Do I?

Dream: Sometimes.

DT: And does speaking like that, or being spoken to that way, make things easier for you?

Dream: Yes and no.

DT: Explain the no.

Dream: Perhaps I… would appreciate a more direct approach. But it makes me uncomfortable nonetheless.

DT: Discomfort isn’t always a bad thing. If you stay comfortable all the time, nothing changes.

Dream (I notice a sound not unlike a wince): I do not change.

DT: I am aware I asked this before, but why are you here then?

Dream (I notice he turns the paperweight in his hands): Because I feel like the kitten.

DT (I need a hot second to remember): You feel you have an existential crisis?

Dream (He stays quiet for seven minutes again. I wonder if he is actually counting seconds in his head): I might have diversified into a certain sense of ennui. (I notice he smiles briefly, but it actually looks weary.)

DT: Any idea as to why that is? Or what might provide relief? (I notice he stares intently at the paperweight again) Why the paperweight?

Dream (He reflexively puts it back on my desk): It reminds me of things.

DT: Good memories or bad?

Dream: Perhaps both (I notice his eyes disengage, and he vacantly stares out the window again.)

DT: Is it something you wish to talk about?

Dream (He looks at me again): I trust our time is up?

DT: No. But if you feel the need to leave, that’s okay. I’d just like to encourage you to think about whether your ennui is as practised as your avoidance.

Dream (He gets up and looks down at me in a fairly disgruntled way): Perhaps you might reflect whether your persistence is annoying.

DT: Well, you’re not paying me to humour you, are you?

Dream (I notice he seems to think for a second, and inexplicably, his face lightens up. If that’s possible at all, because his expressions hover on the micro-spectrum): Perhaps you do humour me. (I wonder if he is actually smiling again or just looks mildly pissed off.)

DT: I suggest I might be the wrong person if you are looking for entertainment. But if you are committed enough to this, I will use ink in my diary again and see you next week. Same time.

Dream (I notice he definitely smiles this time): If the universe doesn't implode by then. (The smile vanishes as quickly as it has appeared, and I am left mildly concerned he might actually believe that’s a possibility.)

After he has left, I begin to write down further notes. Something catches my eye. It looks like sparkly dust suspended in mid-air. I have a lot of questions…

< Previous Session

Next Session >

[immaculatemadonna23]

Ningyo Hime: Adolescence Chronicles

November nineteen twenty-three

Sioux Falls, South Dakota

In a freight car on a train headed straight to God knows where.

Inocencia's Diaries.

...

I feel a little anxious because I can’t sleep. Maybe it’s because I slept the whole way to the United States. It felt like being thrown into a river inside a box, with all the bumps, pushes, ups, and downs. I can’t remember how many times I felt things being put on top of me. I really thought, “What if all this stuff squashes me?”

There’s not much to say about the trip. It was just... a lot of nothing. My biggest worry, like I said, was not getting squished into mush. Then I fell asleep. Sleeping was the best thing I could do to pass the time.

And then I saw them.

I think nobody likes finding people hiding in the cargo. I bet they don’t get paid enough to deal with someone like me. They just looked at me, and I looked at them. Before I could stretch or rub my eyes, the biggest one grabbed my arm and, like I was floating, threw me on the floor next to my bag.

He shouted something I didn’t understand and waved his hands, like saying, “Go!”

And who was I to say no?

I ran. I ran in any direction. The hallways were cold and empty, and the air pushed at my back, like it wanted me gone, too.

And, again, who was I to ignore what the air was telling me?

When I started seeing more people, I slowed down. I couldn’t keep running forever. I had to look around this new place.

I walked, but my walking wasn’t very good. Any explorer would be embarrassed for me. My back was bent, and my legs felt wobbly, like my steps were more like licking the ground than stepping on it.

And what did I find?

It looked like all the men were made from the same artist. Their hair was stuck to their heads, and a few spiky pieces fell over their sweaty, wrinkly foreheads. Each one had their own reason for frowning. Their colors didn’t change much—brown, black, or gray. The women had a little more color—but only a little. The most colorful things were their lipstick, which wasn’t always perfect, or the tired shadows under their eyes.

I thought maybe they all looked like this because nobody here stayed long enough to care how they looked.

I couldn’t blame them. My dress used to be blue, but now it was covered in gray. I don’t even know where the gray came from. The pink on my sleeves was dirty, too.

So it was just me and them, just passing through this place.

I stopped for a moment and leaned against a pillar, only to realize I had sat down on the floor.

And I kept watching.

I had no idea what to do. I didn’t speak their language, and I didn’t know where to go.

Everyone kept moving back and forth, but nobody stayed to look at anything special.

I watched them, and they didn’t notice me. Until I saw someone who wasn’t like the others.

I’m embarrassed to write about him. I could, but he’s close by, and I don’t want anyone else to read this. I’ll try my best.

His hair wasn’t stuck to his head. He was standing there, looking at a small map stuck to what I think is the ticket office for passenger trips. He was mumbling something, and he didn’t have much with him, just a small suitcase and the case for what looked like a violin.

I couldn’t stop looking at him. There was something about him that made me keep staring.

And then, by chance, he turned and looked at me, too.

Was he also someone who watched, while everyone else just passed by?

I got really nervous when I saw him walking toward me. He stopped right in front of me.

He said something, but I didn’t understand it.

I blinked a few times, and I guess he noticed I was confused.

He smiled and held out his hand.

And what was stopping me from taking it?

Hi ^^ You could say this is a little taste of the first part of my two-part Innocence Lunanova/Moonlotov fanfic series called "Ningyo Hime". This first part explores adolescence, exploring new surroundings, adapting and coping with adversity as she develops a friendship with someone as lost as she is. I wouldn't know if I would categorize this fanfic as romantic even though she falls in love with him from here on but well... He doesn't explicitly reciprocate, he's not very aware of it until the second part where she is older and already has a more established life and Rocky is already in Lackadaisy.

Oh yeah... And I thought it was funny to call the couple Moonlotov, Moon for Innocence who I have very linked to lunar symbology (Rocky also has a very heavy lunar load and I love that , it's also the reason why I like to nickname them Moonchilds) and the Lotov... Well you understand what is a Molotov.

The story will have a normal narration but will also be casually interrupted by Innocence's diaries as in this prologue.

PS. Here I will only publish certain one shots outside of the principal lore or works that I consider relevant and that do not need a great explanation.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/62005966

[lobotomy-maybe-bestie]

// jan heller levi - waiting for this story to end before i begin another // disco elysium // the amazing devil - two minutes // simone de beavoir - diary of a philosophy student, 1928/9, volume 2 // stephen adley guirigis - the last days of judas iscariot // counting crows - anna begins // kriti g // @/monomoss // mitski - i bet on losing dogs // @/bpd-chimere // keane - leaving so soon // @/yousaveeveryonebutwhosavesyou // the amazing devil - two minutes //

[ID: several screenshots of text:

1. All my stories are about being left, all yours about leaving. So we should have known.

2. I like pain and burning light and wanting things from people who don't want to give them to me.

3. If I'm good will you come back / If I'm good will you come back / If I'm good will you come back

4. why can't you see me? why can't i stop needing you to see me?

5. Judas: Why... didn't you make me good enough... so that you could've loved me?

6. This isn't love / Cause if you don't wanna talk about it / It isn't love / And I guess I'm gonna have to live without / But I'm sure there's something in a shade of gray or something inbetween / And I can always change my name if that's what you mean

7. I hope one day we can forgive each other for not being what we wanted each other to be

8. being queer is so painful. why do we all fall in love with our best friends

9. I bet on losing dogs / I know they're losing and I pay for my place by the ring / Where I'll be looking in their eyes when they're down

10. Can't stop thinking about how it's so easy for them to not talk to me, yet I become physically ill at even the idea of not having them around

11. You're leaving so soon? / Never had a cance to bloom / But you were so quick to change your tune / Don't look back / If I'm a weight around your neck / Cause if you don't need me / Then I don't need you

12. I hate the fact that when people leave me they just move on and forget about me but I'm stuck here constantly thinking about them and I can't get over that they've left me

13. Give me two damn minutes and I'll be fine / These hands are growing cold / They're running out of things to hold / Give me two damn minutes and I'll be fine

END ID.]

[writeforfandoms]

Waking Lions 1

Find the series masterlist

Eventual John Price x f!reader. Buckle up people, this is a slow burn. 

A few things to know: reader is an independent intelligence agent, morally gray, bisexual, and has some backstory. You’ll learn what you need to know. Primary codename is Ace, but has a couple others. 

This first chapter is setting the scene and giving you all a start on learning about this mess. We do mess a bit with timelines - this starts before MW 2019. 

Warnings: Swearing, flirting, mischief. 

Word count: 2.2k

You hummed to yourself as you walked to the meet point. By now, this was all standard for you - meet up with some underling, pass along the information, wait for payment, and be on your way. 

It was a system that worked well for both parties and had for years. Since you'd discovered you could make a living at this. 

But only if you were careful. 

Which is why you arrived at the meet point a full twenty minutes early. You picked a table out on the patio and ordered a coffee while you waited. It was a lovely day, after all. 

And when someone dropped into the seat across from you fifteen minutes later, you smiled to yourself. 

And then you looked at the man. 

Oh, this one was good. Big and broad, that much you could tell even with the both of you sitting down. Brown hair kept neat, mutton chops. Interesting choice. And the most intense blue eyes you'd seen in a long time. 

"Nice weather we're having." The first half of the code was long habit to you, and never changed. That way you always knew you had the correct underling. 

"Yes but I always bring an umbrella," the man answered with the other half of the code. English accent. Lovely. 

"Anything to drink for you?" You offered with an easy smile, crossing your legs at the knee. 

"No. You have something for me." His voice was rough and low, gaze fixed on you. 

"I suppose I do." You reached into your pocket and pulled out a flash drive, holding it between two fingers. "Password is enterprise, all lower case. This is all up to date. Oh, and one more thing." You leaned in, dropping your voice. "They're planning to move within 24 hours. I can get a more precise time, but it'll cost." 

His eyes narrowed, just a little. "Wait here." He took the USB, tucking it into a pocket before he stood. He towered over you, and you blinked slowly up at him. Oh yes. Oh you liked this one. 

He stepped away, pulling out a cell phone. You picked up your coffee, taking a sip and watching him with half-lidded eyes. He had turned away so you couldn't read his lips. Smart. Clearly someone had updated him as to your capabilities. Your bet was on Laswell - she liked to ruin your fun. 

If Laswell was indeed his contact, that was. And if she was… well, that made him a little higher up the food chain than you initially guessed. Fascinating. 

Normally you dealt with underlings, normal soldiers. People who could act as go-tos but ultimately just followed orders. 

This one, though…

He rejoined you at the table, gaze hard. "You have authorization to proceed. But. There will be rules." 

"I'm listening," you agreed, watching him over the rim of your coffee cup. 

"You keep a comm on you. You alert me as soon as you have the information. You do not take any risks or alert them to our plans. I will have a sniper on overwatch."

“You won’t need them.” You tipped your chin, holding his gaze. “I suppose you’ll be able to hear me but not the other way around, then?” 

“You won’t need to hear from me if you do your job right.” 

You chuckled. “I suppose so. What shall I call you, then?” 

“You don’t need my name.”

“Your name? No. I don’t. But I would like to know what I can call you.” You winked at him. “For my diary, of course.” 

He was silent for a few long moments, blue eyes searching yours. Not that you knew what he was actually looking for. But whatever he saw must have satisfied him. “Captain.” 

“Captain,” you purred. “I assume she informed you of my preferred call sign.” That was a calculated gamble, dropping that hint.

Apart from the tiniest twitch of his lips, he didn’t react. “Ace.”

“Right.” You smiled, all teeth, and finished your coffee. “Well then! Are you coming back to mine, handsome?” You fluttered your eyelashes at him playfully. 

His jaw clenched. “We’ll RV at a secondary location,” he ground out. Either he disliked you or he disliked flirting. Or possibly both. 

“Alright. When?” 

“Half an hour.”

You did a quick bit of mental math. You had most everything you needed on you, but clearly he did not. He hadn’t come equipped to send someone else in on a quasi-op, after all. “Alright. Where?” 

“Tailors shop, called Black Label. Half a click north of here.”

“I’ll find it.” You tucked a cash tip under your empty coffee cup and stood. “I’ll see you in thirty minutes, Captain.” 

It took you ten minutes to be sure he wasn’t following you, although you wouldn’t be surprised if he had someone up high tracking you. He seemed the paranoid type. But you risked it to go back to your hotel room. If all went well, you’d be leaving town within hours. 

It took minutes to ensure your things were packed up, and you hummed to yourself as you double-checked the knife strapped to your thigh under your clothes, the false pocket of your pants giving you access. Perfect. You did like it when all your things were in working order. 

And then you sauntered back out the door, leaving your baggage behind for the moment. It didn’t take you long to find Black Label. 

But this time, you weren’t there first.

Captain walked up to you before you even reached the door, his hand securing just above your elbow, firm but not painful. He guided you around the side of the building and down an alleyway. 

“You leave this on,” he said firmly, releasing you only to grab a tiny microphone out of one of his pockets. “You turn it off, we assume you’ve betrayed us.”

“Sniper, overwatch, I remember,” you agreed glibly. “Allow me.” You held out one hand, imperious, and he handed over the microphone. Without an ounce of shame, you secured it under your shirt where it was completely hidden from sight. “Will this audio suffice?” 

He tipped his head just a little to the side. Undoubtedly listening to the report of whoever was on the other end of his comms. Then he nodded once, short and sharp. 

“Good. I need to get going or I’ll be late.”

He stiffened. “Late?” 

“Didn’t I mention? I have a dinner appointment.” Your lips curved in amusement as you watched him struggle not to react. Much. His flush betrayed his anger, though. 

“I’ll be listening very closely,” he finally growled. 

“I hope you do.” You winked at him again and turned, walking out of the alleyway. Sometimes men were just so fun to tease. 

You did, in fact, have a dinner date with Sergio. You’d arranged it well ahead of time, knowing that either your contact would authorize paying you more for more information, or you’d have some tidbits to sell to Sergio. You were guaranteed a delicious meal, at least. 

The restaurant where you were due to meet Sergio was nice, upscale without being outrageously fancy. You’d been here once before, a few years back. But then, you’d looked quite different then. You’d changed your hair color since, as well as your style of dress. 

Nobody would remember you. 

Sergio was waiting for you - you always arrived precisely on time with him. If he showed up second, he took it as a personal affront and was useless for the next few hours as he worked through his temper tantrum. So, allowances had to be made. 

Like letting him kiss your cheek and pull your chair out for you.

“It has been too long,” he said, taking his seat across from you. 

“It has,” you agreed easily. “How are the girls?” 

“Ah, they are well. Sophia is nine now! And growing like a weed.” He chuckled fondly. “She is already so big. It seems like just yesterday she was small enough I could hold her with one hand.”

“Yes, children do grow fast,” you agreed with a slightly wistful smile. “Especially the ones you’re attached to.”

You both chuckled over that. When the waiter appeared, you let Sergio order drinks for you both. Another calculated move. He was a man who liked to believe he was in charge. 

But it wasn’t until after the appetizers had arrived that he brought up business.

“Any news from our friends in the south?” He feigned disinterest, glancing at you before looking back at his plate. 

“Nothing new, unfortunately.” You shrugged, very much a “what can you do?” “They insist they are on time, of course. I have a feeling they might benefit from a… surprise inspection. If you’d like me to go…”

“No need,” he said, waving off your offer. “I will be going myself in two weeks.”

“Perfect timing, then.” You smiled, though your heart beat faster with excitement at the new information. “I am sorry I don’t have a more satisfying update for you, then.” 

“It is hardly your fault. You are merely the messenger in this case.” His eyes gleamed at you from across the table, dangerous and sure of himself.

“I do hope I’ve earned more than simply being the messenger after all this time.” But you kept your tone light and teasing, smiling playfully. 

“Much more,” he agreed with a chuckle. “Minx. I would invite you back to remind you of what you are, but I won’t have time tonight.”

You pouted at him. “Busy schedule?” 

“Workers nowadays. Can hardly expect them to keep on top of the schedule unless you’re watching them. You know the feeling, I’m sure.”

“Of course,” you agreed in a murmur. “Nothing ever gets done right unless you oversee it yourself.”

“Precisely.” He tipped his glass to you in a silent toast, taking a sip. 

“Tight deadline, then?” 

He tipped his head back and forth. “Well, if I wasn’t due to be leaving in the morning, I’d push it a little, just for you.” His smile turned filthy.

You chuckled, one hand toying with the stem of your wine glass. “You flatter me.” That was likely as precise a time as you were going to get from him, and you didn’t dare push for more. That would just raise suspicion. 

You liked your head where it was and in one piece. 

“And what of you? You haven’t mentioned your plans at all.” His foot nudged yours under the table. 

“Well, since I’ll be robbed of the pleasure of your company… I have a little business of my own to attend to in Turkey. I’ll be catching an early flight out.”

“Time is simply not on our side this time,” Sergio agreed with a (slightly exaggerated) sigh. “Next time then, hm?”

“Of course.” You smiled, leaning back as the waiter brought your entrees out. “I’ll find something pretty for your girls in Turkey.” 

The rest of the conversation stayed away from business and leaned more towards pleasure - the latest hobbies of his two daughters, the ongoing complaints of their mothers, and his persistent search for the third future ex-wife. (He was hoping for a boy next time, he admitted.) 

The two of you parted ways amicably, and you didn’t watch as three other men melted out of the restaurant. Sergio was decently high up in his organization. It made sense he would have protection with him. 

You didn’t stop moving for twenty minutes, taking random twists and turns through the city until you ended up near the Black Label.

“No sign of a tail, Captain,” you murmured, walking into the same alleyway as before. You half-expected him to be there already. “I’ll give you five minutes before I decide to keep this as a souvenir.” 

He arrived in three, expression carefully neutral, though you thought you saw a tiny bit of grudging respect in his eyes. He held out one hand and you handed over the microphone. 

“Satisfied with your intel?” You smiled coyly at him. 

“Your money has been sent already,” he said, which was an answer. 

“Pleasure doing business with you, then.” You started to walk past him, only to stop when he stepped in your way.

“If I find out you’ve double crossed us…”

Your smile was still firmly fixed in place, although you had a feeling it was much less pleasant now. “Piece of advice for you, soldier,” you murmured, low and dangerous as a snake. “Your boss trusts me to get her good quality information, and she doesn’t meddle in my life. In return, I keep her secrets to myself. It’s a system that’s worked for us for a long time. Now, I doubt I’ll ever see you again, so here’s a nickel’s worth of free advice. Don’t tell me how to do my job, and I won’t ruin yours.” You bared your teeth in the barest mimicry of a smile. “Have a good night, Captain.” You stepped around him and continued on down the road. After half a dozen steps, you began whistling.

Just because you knew it annoyed some people. 

The walk to your hotel was uneventful, and you collected your things and left. The cab ride to the airport was silent, and you booked a flight to Turkey for first thing in the morning. 

You had some gifts to buy, after all.

[thebestever16]

Silly UD Headcanons

Josh took a Home Ed class in the 9th grade to make better food for his sisters to eat

Chris used to be taller than all of the Washington siblings until the 6th grade and they all had a huge growth spurt

Hannah and Matt have work out days every Friday and Saturday

Emily and Jess used to have girls night at Jess’s house (they watched rom-com movies and gossiped. After watching mean girls, they made a burn book of their own, when Jess got with Mike she changed Emily from my sister from another mister to raging fire breathing she-devil)

Ashley had a crush on everyone in the group (minus Mike) for at least two weeks each (Chris was her longest crush, Jess was second)

Josh helped Mike go on a date with Emily

When Beth had soccer games Hannah and Josh would make huge signs and cheer for her so loudly (Josh records her entire game)

Sam has a hamster (it’s still alive and thriving)

Despite common belief Josh’s favorite superhero is Spiderman

Beth and Hannah used to twin switch all of the time (except if Josh was around since he was the only one who could confidently guess who was who)

Ashley is a nerd and Chris is a geek- not a headcanon just fact

Matt, Ashley, and Jess used to be middle school besties until Matt and Jess started to hang out with the “popular group”

All of the UD girls have shopping trips in the mall at least three times a week (Josh is always the driver even though all of them know how to drive)

One time Josh invited the group to go camping and they all said yes (bc they thought he meant with a cabin since he’s so rich but Josh meant fr fr camping)

When Beth, Josh, Hannah, and Chris were kids they used to pretend to be in a band

Beth and Hannah disliked Chris at first

Hannah and Ashley read romance books together (and make fun of them if they’re dumb)

Beth and Jess have the hugest plushie collection you have ever seen like 90% of the bed is covered with plushies

Hannah, Beth, and Chris steal Josh’s clothes sometimes

Matt and Hannah bond over the fact they have a crush on Emily and Mike

Josh had a pet fish as a kid

Chris’s mom treats the Washington’s as her own kids (one time she put Josh in time out for cussing)

The gang has D&D game night once every week(everyone takes turns being the Dungeon Master)

Chris and Josh had part time jobs at a fast food restaurant (Josh only got the job to spend time with Chris)

Josh used to climb on things as a kid

Hannah was a biter as a kid

Beth and Josh genuinely wanted to cry when they found out Hannah had a crush on Mike

Sam, Hannah, and Ashley had a tomboy (and I’m not like other girls) phase in middle school

Beth’s fav flavor of ice cream is strawberry, Hannah’s is chocolate, and Josh’s is vanilla

Sam wakes up at 6:00 am and jogs to start the day

Idk why but I think everyone had a crush on Josh at least once during their friendship

Chris posts on social media at least 10 times a day (Jess posts 11)

Josh cuts and styles Hannah and Beth’s hair (all of their hair is curly)

Hannah had a bow obsession after her tomboy phase

Emily has a cat named princess (she babies the hell out of it)

Emily’s mom left her as a kid

Whenever Josh makes fun of Chris for not making a move on Ashley, Chris asks about his relationship with Sam (it shuts him up real quick)

Emily only knows how to show love through aggression

Jess, Beth, and Hannah watched the Princess Diaries together

Matt’s fav season is summer

Josh’s fav holiday is Thanksgiving and Christmas

Josh and Chris are sometimes called the male version of Jess and Emily

Mike wasn’t allowed to curse as a kid (he’s also from Texas)

Hannah, Beth, and Ashley love Ella Enchanted