#i have a shadow charm attached to my phone case

[natabatts]

it’s so funny that shadow the hedgehog is one of my biggest hyperfixations but i’ve never posted art of him bc i cannot draw that mf to save my life

literally fuckin cursed. i hate drawing the sonic style and he looks weird in my own style rip

[shittyblogname]

Heyyy, i can i request a fic with phone guy x fem reader? Maybe a oneshot? Where the reader and him are still friends (secretly liking each other) and when he was about to get killed the reader finds him and tries to safe him? You know, that scene where phone guy is killed, instead of that the reader safes himm?

And sorry if i dont explain myself very well, english is not my first language but i tried😭

And you dont have to do it if you dont want to or dont feel comfortable with it, it was just an idea i had :)

oh geez, I literally had a nightmare about this once LOL

honestly the fourth call always sounds like it's him actually calling you to me, so I'll be doing that.

I wasn't sure how to write this? I mean, in the Audio you can hear (probably a Animatronic) pounding on the door, so, how would reader get in there? You get me? So what I did was give the reader a small window of time where they step away, hope thats fine lol (I couldn't come up with something better tbh)

Warnings: serious injuries, blood & Angst 

You waited for the phone to ring, you know, the typical night routine by now. Checking the cams on Foxy quickly became a pain and hearing Philip's voice always brought a certain calmness to your panicked buttom-clicking & light-checking. Even though they were recorded tapes, it still gave you a certain sense of safety that he was around, even at night. You've met Philip before, and he's quite the charm. Sometimes you wondered how he could be so chill talking about the Robots & incidents that occured at the place, or even how he made it through the first week? It was a mystery to you. By the time the Phone began ringing, you immediately picked up, excited to hear his ramble for tonight. Instead you were greeted by a nervous tone in place of the enthusiastic Hello's you were used to. You didn't interrupt him, he clearly was in distress. The banging boomed through the speaker, making you jump. By the time the classic chime played through you quickly got up, checking the cameras for the last time before putting the tablet down on the desk. Sure, you were nervous and never exited the office before during the night, but what you just heard wasn't some funny sarcastic "prank" from the guy you grew to be so attached to. He didn't mention a single thing about death, or that he is in serious danger, which amused you a little. Despite the circumstances Philip still tried to stay within company standarts with his words, turning his call into more of a silent cry for help. It was a gamble rather Bonnie would be right outside your door, in the hallway or in the back room with him, but that was a guess you were willing to take in order to check up on Philip. Even if you did see one, all you had to do was just stare at them right? They don't move when you look at them, so you hoped that in case Foxy jumped out you could use that to "stun" him. For a moment you even thought about going through Chica's side of the hallway, since she tends to be busy for quite a long time in the kitchen or restrooms. It would be better than running into Freddy or Bonnie right? But at the same time, you didn't really want to walk past Foxy and your time is probably limited. You pressed your face against the glass to see if you could catch any glimpse of Bonnie around before opening the door, and it seemed like the luck was on your side. The hallway was empty, only a eerie feeling & the cold creeping through. You did see Bonnie's shadow somewhere in the dining room before though, so he'd probably switch to the hallway in a bit. Scrambling through your pockets for the backstage key while running down the hallway, you quickly went past the Pirate cove, shivers running down your spine. There were pots and pans being smashed together in the kitchen, and Bonnie stood, seemingly lifeless, in the middle of the dining room. You didn't want to turn your back on these horrifying machines, but in order to unlock the door you had to. You put the flashlight you carried to the ground in order to shine at the Bunny, hoping that it would prevent him from moving. You were trembling, heartbeat throbbing in your ears. What if you're too late? You shook your head in disagreement with your thoughts, checking behind you one last time before going to stick the key into the lock. It clicked fairly loudly, much to your distress about Freddy hearing you. Since he was nowhere to be found you just assumed that he was going to pick up on audio clues. Entering the backstage room you pointed the light towards every corner, making sure that nobody was with you two before locking the door behind you. Placing the flashlight on the table, you rushed towards a suit sitting upright against the wall, kneeling down in front of it. You heard a splashing noise and looked down to your knees, only to find the jeans you wore soaking up the blood you were sitting in. You panicked, breath going faster. You gripped his shoulders, shaking the male. He was unconscious, not responding to any of the actions from you. Looking around the head of the mascot you caught a glimpse of where the bars ran through the mask & started pulling. Careful not to hurt Philip more than necessary you managed to get the Freddy head off, throwing it to the side to observe any wounds he might have. You got the flashlight from the table pointing towards him, revealing the horror of a mutilated face to you. Tears started stinging your eyes, desperate for him to wake up you begged & cried while pulling the suit off of his flesh, both of you covered in blood by now. The signature song starting to play in the background only made your fear worse. These Robots can't have a conscience, right? Why would they be programmed to horrify humans like this?! Your thoughts were interrupted by banging on the door, another pair of heavy steps getting closer to the backstage room. You shook the man by the shoulders again, hoping for just the smallest sign of him being alive while checking for a pulse, relieved to find that his heart was still beating. You pulled off the company phone that was attached to your belt, dialing the number of police & ambulance services. Squeezing the phone between your shoulder & ear while explaining the Situation to the operator and putting Philip into the recovery position, it was safe to say that the woman on the phone sounded quite scared. At first not willing to send paramedics into a situation like that, with the machines still roaming around. You furrowed your brows, yelling into the microphone that an employee is going to bleed out if they don't hurry the fuck up, which seemed to do the trick. "is there any way you can shut off the Robots miss?" she asked while giving you first aid advice, trying to keep her cool just as much as you. "No, they are in sort of a free roam mode at night. I-I can't do anything. If I go outside or even unlock the door they're gonna put me into a suit aswell." the woman on the other end hummed in agreement. "okay, the paramedics will arrive shortly. When they are at the establishment, you're gonna have to open the door." you rested your hand on Philip's shoulder, hoping that he knew that you're gonna stay with him no matter what. "how am I gonna know that it's the paramedics and not the Animatronics?" the lady informed you that they're going to tell you about their presence, and surely the Robots couldn't mimic their voices. Blood dripped off your elbow, the what was once white fabric clinging to your skin. The lady gave you last words of reassurance before hanging up, leaving you only with that terribly stupid song and your mutilated crush. Your mind started going to imagening all the different outcomes, praying that he wouldn't die in the Hospital, or how horrifying he's going to look after surgery. People are going to be scared of what was a very handsome young man, or maybe he'll be recognizable. Either way, you swore to be there for him, whispering silent hopes to yourself. Soon enough you heard lighter footsteps rushing through the restaurant, looking for the backstage door. You hesitated getting away from Philip, but you had to to unlock the door. Creeking it open by just a bit to check if any Animatronics were around, you guided the medics to you, watching them perform more first aid to stop the bleeding before lifting him onto a stretcher to transport him into the Ambulance. You were invited to come along, since you were the one with the most information right now. You were questioned by the police who arrived shortly after the medics did before joining Philip in the back of the EMS. You were offered a blanket which felt more like a towel, given they didn't really have spare clothes to give out on the go. You kept your eyes on Philip during the ride, thinking over the events that happened tonight, hoping that he's going to be okay.

[jennana501]

Attachment and the Jedi Way

SPOILERS FOR THE MANDALORIAN AND STAR WARS REBELS

I always know a story is quality when what I want to say about it to my mother and sisters is too difficult to text, and I have to drive over and talk with them in person. Such was the case when I watched the Mandalorian Chapter 13. There were so many juicy details, plot developments, and general excitement about the long awaited appearance of one of our favorite Star Wars characters that I couldn’t stand being restricted by phone when I wanted to gush a million things. We were all so stunned with the emotion of her appearance. Truly a moment I will remember for the rest of my life. 

But after all the sweet outer frosting on the Chapter 13 cake had been licked clean, I dove into the center of this delectable episode and began to savor in its indulgent but substantial core. I have many thoughts about Thrawn, where Rex can be (is he dead or alive?) and where the season is going to go from there. What has interested me the most is Ahsoka’s reaction to our newly named green baby friend, Grogu. 

First I must say how much I love Rosario Dawson’s performance. I feel she knows who Ahsoka is and what she has gone through. I am reminded of little ‘Soka in her very first appearance in the Clone Wars animated movie when she takes care of the way less loveable baby Hutt. Seeing that she is  charmed by Grogu and that she clearly thinks he is cute makes me feel all sorts of warm fuzzies. Their very mythical and silent conversation in the moonlight shows how in tune with the force Ahsoka has become and that Grogu himself is much more than meets the eye. 

And yet when it comes to it, Ahsoka says she cannot train Grogu. The reason: his attachment to Din. I was surprised at first. Ahsoka does not see herself as a Jedi, at least as far as her association with the order that raised and trained her. I didn’t think I’d hear about attachment from someone who has forgone the Jedi way, especially since Ahsoka appears to have indulged in an attachment or two.

I immediately realized she was on to something. I recall Grogu’s moments of using the force: saving Din from the mudhorn; using the Force to save everyone from a giant fireball; Force healing Greef Karga; and Force choking Cara Dune. The latter example stands out to me as being the most violent use of the Force we see from little Grogu. He perceives that Din is in danger and acts against what we now know is his training to hurt someone in a manner that is often consistent with the dark side. 

Sure he is innocent and adorable. But he is also dangerous. And Ahsoka is right. It’s his attachment to Din that turns him from benevolent force using baby, to emotionally fueled deadly force bomb.

But I’ve seen Star Wars Rebels. I know that a Jedi can have relationships with other people and not turn to the dark side. You can love and still listen to the will of the Force. The Jedi were wrong. So I’m here to look into what attachment is, how you can love and not have attachment, and how Grogu might still become a Jedi, or at least the new wave sort of Jedi. 

First we must look at the poster child for attachment issues: Anakin Skywalker. The Clone Wars TV show could be renamed- Star Wars: Attachment and How it Disrupts Nearly Every Mission the Republic Assigns Anakin. He prioritizes Padme, Ahsoka, R2, and even Obi-wan over everything else. He is constantly  defying the orders of his commanders and putting the mission in danger. 

This all comes down to what happened to Anakin’s mother. 

When Anakin is taken from Tatooine, he has to leave his mother behind, with whom he shares a strong bond and attachment. When he is brought before the council and they say “he is too old”, what it really means is “he has already attached himself to something other than the Force.” Why else would being “too old” matter? The Jedi prefer blank slates for a good reason. Very small children have not developed strong attachments.

Anakin does turn into Darth Vader, after all. 

It would appear the Jedi are very right to say that Anakin should not be trained. He is ripped away from his mother; the man who believes in him is killed; and he is forced to be trained by someone who treated him with bitter indifference. After losing his mother he has no help, no advice, no direction other than to stifle his negative emotions. 

So instead of processing his grief and finding peace, he latches onto Padme. This attachment he will never abandon. He trains harder and becomes more powerful to always be able to keep Padme alive. The guilt Anakin feels for not being able to save his mother gives fire and passion to his obsession with Padme. And this obsession slowly erodes their relationship. 

Anakin says things like “There’s nothing more important than the way I feel about you.” (Hostage Crisis) During the Mortis Arc when he sees a vision of his mother, they have this conversation: 

“The only love I feel in my heart is haunted by what would happen should I let go.” 

“Then it is not love. It is a prison.” 

“But I have a wife…she’s everything to me.” 

“She’s not your destiny.” 

“But I love her.” 

We see the very ugly side of Anakin’s obsession and jealousy in the arcs that involve Clovis. Anakin's insecurities are valid, but they simply drive home the point that his attachment to Padme will eventually unravel him and lead to violence. 

Anakin and Obi-wan have a very interesting conversation during the episode “The Rise of Clovis” that reveals that Obi-wan is worried for Anakin and senses Anakin’s anger pitted towards the man he perceives as his rival. 

Obi-wan: Master Yoda is feels that your judgements concerning Rush Clovis are clouded. 

Anakin: I believe he can’t be trusted.

Obi-wan: Yes, but there is more isn’t there? I sense a deep anger in your by my simply saying his name. 

Anakin: He almost got Senator Amidala killed and I would have been responsible. 

Obi-wan: The Senator has risked her life many times. She’s quite capable of taking care of herself. 

Anakin: They had a relationship...once. I simply feel she is vulnerable to her emotions. 

Obi-wan: She is, or you? 

Obi-wan then empathizes with Anakin, telling him that he knows what it’s like to harbor feelings for someone. He tells Anakin to not be ashamed of these feelings, but that he must make the rights choice “for the order”. The conversation ends with Anakin becoming very angry, asserting he knows what his responsibilities are and Obi-wan leaves the room, leaving Anakin to deal with his distress alone. 

 And since Anakin is denied the support he needs, he resorts to controlling, intimidating behavior. He commands Padme to stay away from Clovis, is cruel to him, and chooses to punish Padme emotionally for Anakin's own insecurities. When tensions reach their peak, he attacks Clovis. This fully expresses Anakin's own fear and rage at the idea of losing Padme to another man. 

Anakin’s unchecked and untreated attachment to Padme, as we all know, results in the ultimate ruination of the both of them, the Jedi Order, and the Republic. He will never out anything about her. She is his center. Nothing else matters. 

This is not Anakin’s fault. This is the fault of the Jedi. Their teachings about attachment are unhelpful at best, and this stems from their crippling confusion over the difference between “attachment” and “love”. 

It makes me wonder if they even know what they are talking about at all. Their advice about attachment involves regurgitating confusing platitudes.  

In “The Revenge of the Sith"; Anakin goes to Yoda to seek his counsel. Anakin is told that “attachment leads to jealousy. The shadow of greed that is.” When Anakin asks what he must do to overcome attachment, Yoda tells him simply to “train yourself to let go of everything you fear to lose”. 

Thanks Yoda, I’ll get right on that. 

Anakin needs to “let go”, apparently, and if he is holding onto something dangerous, what should he be holding onto instead? No one ever explains. The Jedi simply tell him to “let it go”. 

It’s no wonder that Anakin can’t ever consider letting go of Padme. For all he knows, that means cutting her out of his life and never speaking to her again. Or worse, does that mean letting her die the next time her life is in danger? Does it mean he should replace love with indifference? He has no idea. As he is given no tools, Anakin fixes nothing and plummets to his unavoidable demise.

Divorce papers and deleting Padme’s number isn’t how Anakin is to overcome “attachment”, and it was never going to be. Obi-wan tried this method with Satine, and though he didn’t fall to the dark side, he never recovers from the bitterness and regret he feels.

In “Voyage of Temptation”, Anakin and Obi-wan discuss his and Satine’s relationship. Obi-wan explains his Jedi duties forced him to leave Satine after forming a strong bond and love with her over the year they were together on Mandalore. The Jedi teachings dictate that he let Satine go. So, obedient Padiwan that he was, Obi-wan cuts off his relationship with Satine. The results show that this was not the way. If the goal of the Jedi is to avoid negative emotion, then this technique fails and perhaps cripples Obi-wan forever.

Anakin: “As Master Yoda says: ‘A Jedi must not form attachments.’”

Obi-wan: “Yes, but he usually leaves out the undercurrent of remorse.” 

I’m here to tell you today that Obi-wan perhaps gets screwed over by the Jedi Code more than any other Jedi. Obi-wan does not have an attachment to Satine. Sure he says “Had you said the word, I would have left the Jedi Order” but that’s only because that is what he has been taught. He is taught you only have two options: love someone or be a Jedi. 

Obi-wan loves Satine. He has a relationship with her. Some even think, myself included, that he is physically intimate with her. Qui-gon no doubt encouraged this relationship. He probably carefully nurtured Obi-wan during this time, helping him be able to love without forming an attachment. But Obi-wan is not able to see that he could love Satine and still be a Jedi. Leaving the order means that his Jedi journey would be over. If he had realized love and attachment are separate things, he could have been a Jedi and could have had Satine's love, too . 

Qui-Gon nearly convinces Obi-wan to be different: Obi-wan could have been a Jedi with feelings and love. Satine is a person who values duty above all, just as Obi-wan does. She respects that he answers to the Force. They would have been able to perfectly rule together with that mutual understanding. He could have been her force wielding husband without being attached to Satine and falling to the Dark side. 

True attachment is so dangerous to a Jedi because if they attach to a person, an idea, or a cause then they are not attached to the will of the Force. 

This is the missing detail Anakin and Obi-wan needed. Obi-wan could have been completely attached to the Force, even while loving Satine and even becoming her husband. Anakin needs to know that he could attach his center to the Force, and that this would not interfere with a deep and meaningful relationship with Padme. While centered in the Force, Anakin could be Padme’s husband loving and living with her, but ultimately his duty is to the Force, just as her duty is ultimately to the Republic. 

We know all of this is possible because of two characters from Star Wars: Rebels. Kanan Jarrus and Hera Syndulla share what is essentially a marital bond. They love, live, and lead together. They are physically intimate, but they do not have each other as their centers. We see evidence of this in the episode “Call to Action”, when Hera leaves Kanan in the hands of the Empire. She  knows that if she risks saving Kanan then everyone else will be killed. 

If Hera had an attachment to Kanan like Anakin had to Padme, she would have risked everything to get Kanan back. Since Hera is not one of the most powerful Jedi in the galaxy, she would have failed and the rebel cell would have been stopped dead in its tracks. 

We also see evidence that Kanan is not attached to Hera. At the very end of their journey, after Kanan and Hera have fully expressed their feelings to each other, Kanan sacrifices himself for Hera and the others by using the Force to hold back an explosion. Though it appears as  Kanan is doing this because of his love for Hera, that is not the true motivation. If Kanan has an attachment to Hera, things would have gone differently. 

It is heavily implied leading up to this event that Kanan knows it is the will of the Force that he is to die. He knows this because the Force is his center and not  Hera. If his center is attached to Hera, I believe two things would have happened. Kanan would have tried and failed to save himself along with Hera and the others.  His actions would have been motivated by selfishness and desperation to extend his time with Hera. If Kanan tries to save himself, the conflagration consumed them all. The only way Kanan can prevent this is to draw upon the dark side of the Force. This would have thrown Kanan out of balance with the Force, and put him in very real danger of falling to the dark side. 

Instead, Kanan allows the will of the Force be done: he dies and his time with Hera comes to an end. Hera knows this about Kanan, and has always accepted the possibility he would choose the Rebel cause over their time together. Kanan knows the same of Hera. This mutual respect is the foundation of their love for each other. A Jedi can have a love and a bond with someone as long as they understand that ultimately, if the Force wills them to do something they must do it, regardless of how that affects their lives together.

So, can Grogu live like Kanan? The issue with Grogu, however, is that he already has attachment. His center is his adopted father, Din. Grogu is currently like Anakin, and if Din hands Grogu over to Ahsoka, they will have very Anakin-like troubles. From whom is Grogu going to learn? Ahsoka is unable to teach Grogu how to let go of deep attachment and center on the Force. Ezra Bridger can. 

In the second part of this post, I will discuss how Ezra Bridger is one of the most important Jedi who has ever lived, because he will be able to Grogu learn to let go, attach to the force, love and live, and yet do what needs to be done. 

[popculturebuffet]

Ducktales Lena Retrospective: The Other Bin of Scrooge McDuck! or Why Does Lena’s Darkest Hour Have a WACKKKYY Bigfoot Subplot?

Hello all you happy people and welcome back to Shadow Into Light, my look back the LIfe and Times of Lena Sabrewing. And we’re almost at the end of season 1. Woo-Ooo!. While i’ll have more season 1 episodes to cover for it’s sister arc, this is the last episode in this arc before the finale.. and i’m happy to repeat that next week will be DUCK WEEK as a result, finsihing up this arc and the Della arcs, as well as dipping into season 2 a bit for Lena’s return to celebrate the finale of this wonderful show. Full disclosure: I didn’t PLAN for it this way, I assumed the show would be ending in April, but sometimes serendipity just works out for you. So pitter pat er, let’s get at er.

 When we last left off Webby went on a wild duck chase for her grandma in England and 87!Webby befriended that version of Magica’s niece and told off a grown woman masquerading as a child because her husband likes being called “Daddy”. When we last left the plot proper though, we learned Lena just wanted to be free, and was willing to do whatever it took, and Magica was getting more abusive and more impatient. And if you thought the end to Jaw$! was pretty sad and dark.... strap in and steel yourself as we take a look at one of the darkest episodes in the series.

The opening sets the stage perfectly as we’re in Scrooge’s Room in the middle of the night, when Lena comes in.. with a knife. 

Naturally she dosen’t have baked goods, but instead is trying to cut the knife from around his neck while Magica won’t shut up while she works and keeps distracting her and BLAMING her for getting distracted. As for the knife it’s glowing and mystic because naturally, Scrooge doesn’t trust just ANY string but a magically woven one to hold his dime. Unlucky for her her girlfriend walks in at the exact moment she’s standing over her idol holding a mystical knife. I don’t think hallmark makes a card for “Sorry I was lying to you for months for my abusive aunt to earn my freedom and then looked like I was about to slit your uncle’s throat. I love you though. “ Yet. 

Scrooge starts to stir so Webby pulls Lena out of there and back to her room... and flashes a lamp on her to interrogate her. Lena is able to bounce back, asking “what were you doing there”. Which NORMALLY wouldn’t last more than two minutes.. but since Webby was there to get Drool samples, maybe she wants to clone him I mean she does know a guy I think the why is something we’d rather not know about, Webby herself was a bit suspcious and Lena uses her starkerish ways to say she’d also gotten into being a Scrooge fangirl. This also allows her to ask about the dime.. but since Scrooge never takes it off, that means they have no access and both Lena and Magica are stuck watching Webby’s long presentation on Scrooge’s life story. I mean personally i’d love to see this in it’s full probably 8 hour glory but I’m not trying to earn my freedom or stuck as a shadow monster. 

It was then when watching the episode this morning.. I was reminded it had a subplot. And the instant I saw Dewey folding Louie’s shirts... I started to piece together it was the bigfoot one. 

As you can tell i’m not a fan of this subplot. It has a good core idea, riffing on “kid takes home sasquatch films” like Cry Wilderness, Big and Harry and of course the one that started it all, Harry and the Hendersons. 

It’s just bogged down by one really obnoxious trait that trips it up and is in the wrong episode entirely. We’ll get to that first scene and the plot as a whole in a moment we just need the setup in the a-story first: Scrooge privately conferring with Beakly, which Magica snoops on. While Lena didn’t get far at all in cutting the rope of his dime, she still left a knick and the fact someone got into his house, let alone his bedroom and got THAT far, means SOMETHING bad is afoot. So while he looks for it he’s putting the dime in the Other Bin for safekeeping. We’ll find out what that is in moment. For now 

Let’s Get This Stupid Sasquatch Plot Over With

We open with Louie having conned Dewey into folding his stuff for the “world laundry folding record”. I mean.. it’s greasy but I gotta respect game here. And it’s not actively harming anyone. Though we do find out from an irate Huey he’s done far worse, if in a hilarious way with Louie’s Kids, his obviously fake charity he uses to get money out of Donald. And so far into it, as Huey hid something he had in the closet and offered to Fix Louie’s stretched out hoodie, the reason he was mad at Dewey, I didn’t get why I hated it before. I wondered why I was so annoyed. Same when Huey while carrying Louie’s hoodies hears his uncle looking for something in the mansion. 

Turns out he’s got a bigfoot hiding in their closet, that he found injured int he woods and brought back and all that good kid finding a mythical creature stuff. Dewey of course loves him on first sight and both want to keep him. But unlike most of these sorts of things where the creature’s damage to the room and what not is played off or the sibling doesn’t know, Louie does see it and isn’t happy about it and only agrees to hide the furry bastard because his brothers blackmail him with his schemes, and refuse to feel sorry for him as the creatures antics continue, including drinking Louie’s special pep and eating his snacks. 

And this is where one of the plots two major issues crops up: The way Dewey and Huey act. Both just ignore any damage wooly foot does, any discomfort to Louie and any obvious downsides of this. Now Dewey being clinginly attached to a majestic creature he found and wanting to keep it? Fits perfectly, and him being mean to louie fits because louie tricked him. Huey however.. is horribly out of character, as while I could see him being charmed at first and not wanting his uncle to hunt his new friend.. he’s not an impractical boy. He’d of tried to get his new friend to the woods first thing because it’s where he’s safest from scrooge and his foot has healed. He’s also a Woodchuck and I can’t imagine the JWG says it’s okay to keep a wild animal person as a pet basically. None of it fits him and makes him into a moron for an episode solely for the plot to work. This still could’ve worked but just have Huey and Louie BOTH get suspicious, Huey later, and find out Tenderfoot is actually Gavin, whose sapient, has a phone and simply is taking advantage of them. it would’ve gone the same way: if they told Dewey , Gavin would kill them, as he threatened to do if louie told his brothers. The Gavin part though is brilliant and a really nice twist I didn’t see coming when I first saw this.  

And it would’ve made the already great climax more interesting as Huey would’ve been forced to use the methods of Louie’s he’d derided to beat a far worse scammer. Instead it’s just Louie but he doesn’t take Gavin’s threats lying down.. and comes up with a clever way to use his scam against him. He shaves Gavin, hides the razor then claims to his brother that not being in the woods means he’s dying or some such thing. So our two idiots and our hero drag them out and while they run into scrooge, Louie still saves the idiots life by manipulating him with a schmaltzy speech and they let him go despite his best attempts to stay, with Louie getting a nice “I win in there”. Overall a bit of a mess with some good ideas, but Huey suddenly taking dum dum juice really drags it down.

So in any other episode this would’ve been fine whatever just mildly obnoxious. What makes it really,  unintentionally obnoxious.. is it’s in the middle of a tense, dark, horror story that dives into the depths of Lena’s soul and ends on a really horrifying note. Case in point Louie shaves a bigfoot and gets his victory over his nemesis.. after an utterly spellbindingly horrific nightmare by Lena, easily the most terrifying moment in the entire show. Followed up with a shaved bigfoot. 

Now I could buy Disney simply forced them to do this to keep things light... except Frank’s been pretty upfront about the production process, how Disney has treated him, what they’ve said no on. So if it had been something they were forced to do, he would’ve said it. No this is just not reading the room and not thinking things through and an otherwise stellar episode suffers for it.They could’ve waited till season 2 for it, they didn’t, and this was the result. It dosen’t ruin the rest of the episode it’s too good for it, but damn if it dosen’t create mood whiplash so severe I need a neckbrace. 

The Good Part

So back at the plot anyone actually cares about, we found out what the “other bin” is when Lena asks Webby: While the Money bin is for well, money and precious keepsakes, the other bin is the stuff too dangerous to keep out in the world. And this is the guy who kept a mystical gold eating dragon, a pirate ghost, and a medusa gauntlet in his garage, and we’ll learn after this ep also keeps a giant golden aztec golem in there. NONE of that was deemed dangerous enough to put in the other bin. So Webby is understandably hesitant.. and it gets a bit unsettling when Lena manipulates her into it. While she has in the past.. she usually just nudged Webby into something she’d do anyway at worst, or showed her an r-rated movie or something harmless. While she did use her as an in she clearly cares.. so it shows how horrifically desperate she’s got she’s willing to pressure her into going into Scrooge’s most dangerous and secure location, pointing out this may be her only chance to see the Dime. 

So she reluctantly agrees, and the two head into the garage. Turns out Scrooge keeps all his junk here for more reason than just shoving it wherever it’d go, as the entrance to the other bin is hidden here. The statue that gave Manny his head is actually a clue towards the painting hiding the second bin, which itself requires one of those things used to hold up ropes and such like you’d see at a movie theater... god I miss movie theaters.. I mean watching stuff in the comfort of home is very nice, but it was nice getting out, making a day of it. I mean their around, but I really don’t want to go till one till more vaccinations have happened and it’s a lot safer to go. Wait what were we talking about? Oh right gay ducks going into a horrifying nightmare vault. But yeah the theater thingy is the key, it unlocks the entrance and our heroines head inside. 

In contrast to the modern, buisnessy welcoming bin, the other bin is basically one giant vault/prison, with everything in it securely locked inside identical doored rooms. It’s genius as it is simple: Only 6 people have likely ever had access to this place: Scrooge, Beakly, Gyro, Duckworth and MAYBE the twins. Even Della and Donald being allowed down here is an unknown. The non-scrooge people are only because someone besides him needs to maintain it, keep any creatures fed, that sort of thing and he’d only trust his butler and his housekeeper, who are also both extraordinarily badass, to do so. Gyro is because someone needed to design the cells. I also wouldn’t be surprised if Quackfaster was a 7th since season 3 casts her as Scrooge’s magic expert and he’d likely need specific runes for specific cells. He’d want as few people down here as possible, and even fewer knowing. I’m sure Bradford knew, and i’m also certain it’s the one thing he never quibbled about the expense as while he hates what Scrooge stands for and tried to curb his “chaos” as much as possible.. this is doing exactly what Bradford likes: locking it away where it can’t hurt anybody. Plus quibbling about it might make Scrooge want to show it off to him and that’s.. that's’ a whole lotta nope in a 2 pound bag. 

So for once Webby is very hesitant and very cautious, though naturally Magica points out a door.. and Lena stupidly follows her advice as she knows her “aunt” is impulsive and has no regards for her safety. What did she think was going to happen? They instead find a unicorn.. or rather it’s angry murderous cousin the Sword Horse, which naturally tries goring them. I’d go with Spear Horse, but semantics. Point is Webby is soon tackled by the thing and Magica just wants to let her die. As seen before the tension between Magica and Lena has hit a breaking point: Magica is fed up with Lena’s clear feelings for webby and caring more about her than the mission.. while Lena is fed up with Magica not listening to her, respecting her as sentient being and dismissing her out of hand instead of listening to her often very valid criticism. So Lena naturally ignores her and throws her the knife, which Webby uses to get the Sword Horse back in it’s pen. And then wonders why her girlfriend has  glowing painstakingly crafted magic knife. Whoops. Webby also wants to leave but Lena convinces her to keep going. but it’s also very clear that Webby’s getting more and more reluctant and i’ts very hard to watch. You can’t blame Lena for wanting to be free of Magica: she dosen’t see her as a person, and dosen’t value her life. But it’s still hard to watc her have to manipulate the only person that loves her and do so so.. effectively. It’s easy to imagine Lena’s done this dozens of times to other people.. but not to someone she actually CARES about. 

Webby DOES figure out how the rooms work though: each one is labeled by the year Scrooge caught it. So she assumes one room she fine is the dime.. and Lena of course runs in and slams the door shut... they’ve found it. So we then get to the most terrifying moment of the series. With victory in her grasp magica roars for Lena to claim the dime, filling the room and Lena with shadow with Lena seemingly disolving.. until Magica is restored or at least partially, still a shadow. Magica has just one thing for her.. and Lena’s reactoin is terrified.. and says oh so much in just one expression it’s VERY clear Lena fears she’s about to die... if she’s lucky. Magica’s been so verbally abusive, tearing her down constantly, manipulating her constantly.. why WOULD Lena expect anything good? Why would she expect anything other than pain or death? So a hug is a surprise.. as is Webby who assumes she’s being attacked... and is clearly heartbroken that’s not the case and runs for Scrooge when Magica admits the truth... only for Magica to seemingly kill her, turning her into a doll resembling the original Webby

Yeah at this point it’s obvious something’s up.. but before we can get to the natural reveal at the end of this horror show, Lena demands Magica change her back... only for a fight to naturally ensue with Magica rubbing the way Lena’s treated Webby in her face: How she manipualted her, lied to her and used her. Even if it was for more noble reasons.. she never told her any of this or tried to and is now directly responsible for her death. She’s a monster.. and then Lena’s amulet activates.. and seemingly finishes the job. 

Then Lena wakes up. This was simply one of SCrooge’s artifact, one Webby mentioned earlier off hand and Webby rescues her. It was all a nightmare.. easy to see given Webby was seemingly killed or turned into a doll at points.. but besides making Lena realize how while not as bad as her aunt, she ahsn’t been great.. it also gives us a painful look into her head and how she sees both Magica and Webby. With Magica.. it’s again VERY clear Magica verbally abuses her, depersons her and is in general a horrifiingly relastic depection of a domestic abuser. But it’s also telling Magica hugs her... while Lena didn’t expect it, this is all her subconcious mixed with a magical cursed artifact, it’s clear that deep down one of the things she wants most.. is for Magica to LOVE HER. 

That is just... it hurts so much.  She just wants a Mom.. and even then her subconcious can’t give her THAT because it knows the truth. Granted the nightmare thing might of had something to do with it, but still, the fact is deep down she knows Magica dosen’t care about her but she WANTS her to. As with Webby, she fears Magica is right, that all her gaslighting has had an effect and Webby would run away the second she found out. When as we’ll learn.. that’s not true at all. She’s deeply hurt... but she still belivies in her. But Lena can’t even see that. She’s been beaten down so much by someone constnatly telling her no one will ever love her she belivies it herself and all her mind and the dreamcatcher can do is pummel her over and over again with what she feels about herself, what she’s KNOWN about how she treats webby even if she had no way out otherwise, how wrong it’s felt. Just holy shit it’s a lot to take in. 

But all this trauma has made Lena realize she truly does love Webby and this isn’t worth it.. she’ll find some other way out or figure out something, for now their leaving. She’s not dying for this.. not for her. They happen to run into Scrooge who, due to the WACKY BIGFOOT SUBPLOT THAT HAPPENED RIGHT AFTER THE ABOVE SCENE, no I will not let that go even going back to Frank’s twitter asks he outright said it was their darkest plot paired with one of their most insane, he knew what he was doing. Turns out cleverly he kept the Dime in vault one. As he puts it “They never think to check the first one”. Smart. He also keeps his worry room down here. Just a note I wanted to mention. 

He does chide them, and Lena takes the full fall.. but suprisingly he dosen’t ban her from his home or anything, he just asks they be honest and would’ve gladly showed the dime off to them both if they’d just asked. Once Scrooge and Webby walk off far enough Magica berates her again..but Lena is done. She’s realized from her own horrifying nightmares that NO amount of freedom is worth what Magica will get out of this, that her own soul isn’t worth the death of the one person she cares about: Webby will fight her and she might not make it. She loves her more than she fears Magica. And even if it means loosing Webby.. she knows who can stop him. Unfortunately.. this is not a happy ending as Magica simply takes full control. And now has Scrooge’s full trust. 

Final Thoughts: This episode is one half a masterpiece. The parts with Lena are to this day, as we approach the very last episode, some of the show’s finest writing and Lena’s nightmare is easily the darkest scene in the series, and only not the most gutwrenching.. because we’re getting to that next week. It finishes the first leg of her character arc, with her selfishness all gone, and the only thing she wants is Webby’s hapiness. Granted that leads to a whole nother character arc over her season 2 episodes, but we’ll get there. Point is she’s realized her manipulations are wrong and not worth the cost, and that she’ll never get anything good out of Magica. Freedom.. will take just a bit longer. It’s eerie to watch, uncomfortable as Lena sinks to her lowest point before climbing out of it, and with a very tense atmosphere the whole time, the bin having a smothering uncomfortableness as we know there’s tons of horrible things here.. but we don’t know what. 

So on it’s own it’d be one of the series best episodes, and the plot itself is still one fo the series best.. but it’s weighed down by one of the series worst plots. Still tame compared to a lto of other series worst moments but being paired with something so dark and excellent really shows how fucking stupid this plot was and made it that much more grating. It just clashes badly. Thankfully the crew did learn from this fiasco to the point we got one of the series best episodes “Escape from the Impossibin!”. That one seemingly has two light enough plots, Scrooge, Louie and Della escaping from the bin and Webby stalking the boys, but in a comedic ic still messed up fashion.. but both take a sharp left at just the right time as to not clash: the full implications of what Webby’s doing and her physical fight with Bentina happen around the same time Scrooge breaks down and confesses he’s scared he can’t win this time. The episode gets really dark in the second half but it eases into it and slowly makes it’s way to it, building to it with some laughts to disarm it. But stuff like robo scrooge or the timeloop room, or the timeloop room, or the timeloop room, or the oh thank god i’ts broken. That stuff isn’t SO wacky or out of place that it detracts from the other plot. They compliment each other. Here it’s just two plots that don’t work together at all joined together for some reason.  So yeah overall a very mixed bag of an episode and if you do want to watch or rewatch it.. just skip the bigfoot subplot> it’s not worth it. 

Next Time on Shadow Into Light: It’s all come down to this. Magica finally ges what she wants. The Shadow War is Night.. but before I can tell you that story we have a bit of ground to cover so..

Next on this Blog: The family minus Beakly ends up in Greece. Dewey is forced to deal with his fears about his mom, Scrooge is forced to deal with his old rival Zeus, and Donald is forced to deal with an unwanted admirerer. Spanikopita!

If you liked this review, follow for more, feel free to contribute to my patreon, and feel free to commission a review of your own. Until the next rainbow, it’s been a pleasure. 

[imaginesmai]

Tom Holland - Our fairytale

Is this another disney-Tom fic? Yes it it. I’m masking my inactivity with another piece of fluff in Disney World. If you like this one, make sure to check  Lost kid and  True love kiss.  

Plot: that story where two characters of a movie fall in love, or in this case two actors portraying those characters fall in love, even if they don’t belong to the same fairy tale

or

Tom is prince Eric and you’re Belle, and he’s just a jealous bean.

“Mommy, mommy! It’s prince Eric!”

A little red haired girl, that was probably wearing a wig not that well put, pulled her mother’s hand behind her and gripped harder the drawings’ book she has been carrying around all day. Her objective had been clear since she had woken up that morning; to meet all the characters that appeared in her drawings and make them sign the pictures. She had too a purple princess dress with small seashells and a small purse that was all decoration.

Tom kneeled down just as the girl reached him. Her eyes looked as if they could burst out of their pockets, jumping up and down in the spot of excitement. The mother, a middle age woman that looked done with the whole park, gave Tom a side glance to check he was no depredator and took her phone with her free hand.

“Hi!” she screeched, loud even above all the noise of the park that day. “I’m Marleen!”

“Oh, what a beautiful name!” Tom said in a high-pitched voice. “And what a beautiful girl!”

“Thanks” she giggled and twisted her body around the mother’s hand. “This is not my real hair, my mommy bought it for me”

“Well, it’s really pretty” Tom smiled warmly. “Are you enjoying your day in the park?”

The question led to a monologue from the little girl about all the characters she had met so far, and a thoughtful look through her drawings. Her smile was easily contagious, and Tom didn’t mind staying 20 long minutes under the sun, crutched in front of that cute girl. He commented every drawing and even made up some stories about the characters in them. The mother kept herself to the phone, not listening to the conversation, and Tom felt himself traveling to a different world.

Every time a kid asked for him, he left the rest of his life aside and became Eric, the prince of the little mermaid that had a charming smile and lived with Ariel in a big palace. Tom had been working as that character for almost five months, and he never got tired. There were too many good things that came with it; the smiles, the excitement and the fantasy he got to live meanwhile.

He was in the middle of a story about Ursula when Marleen seemed to see something behind him, and before he got time to turn around, she had already recovered and emitted another loud screech.

“Belle!!”

Tom was suddenly pushed aside when Marleen rushed past him and attached herself to another person’s legs. He didn’t have to look up to know it was you who had stolen the attention of the girl, but he wasn’t at all afraid. Once more, the mother looked poorly interested in the situation, and went back to her previous business after checked who was her daughter talking to.

Again, Marleen presented herself and explained who she was dressed as. You looked as interested as Tom in the story, though Tom ignored it in favour of staring at you. You were wearing a beautiful pale yellow dress that fell down your legs, barely touching the ground. There was a flashy necklace on your chest and a pearly ring on your finger. You weren’t the princess that used more make-up, yet Tom thought the soft red lipstick and the barely there Rimmel was perfect.

“Can you sign my drawing too?” Marleen asked, already opening her book. She shoved it in front of you and turned to look at Tom. “My friends are going to be so envious! I’m gonna tell them I met Belle and prince Eric!”

“If you are quick, you can meet Cinderella in the main square” you said as you scribbled on the page. “I heard she has brought some special friends with her”

“Mommy did you hear that?!?”

Tom barely noticed her arms circling around his legs before she took off running again, her mother screaming behind her. He chuckled as the pair disappeared in the sea of the people. It was only mid-day, and if they were thinking about staying until close-up time, he doubted the mother would be able to keep up.

A soft hand made its way to his, sneaking as if it was a secret. And in part, it was; because prince Eric was supposed to be with Ariel, and you had strict orders about sticking to the characters until the end of the day. You rubbed your face against his blue jacket, half wishing you would be alone at the moment.

Finally, Tom intertwined your hands together and gave yours a small squeeze. Your break was close, and if you were lucky you could still find some spot in the shadow to hide from the torturous sun.

“I was watching you way before she noticed me, you know” you mumbled, pressing yourself even closer to him. “You’re so good with them, and you look so cute”

“I’m not cute, I’m carrying a sword and I’m a prince” Tom chuckled, not moving from his spot. “You’re amazing, too. And beautiful – god, I swear they might want to remake the film and change the ending, because I can’t take my eyes off you with that dress”

“Aren’t you a gentleman, my prince. Do you say that to every princess here?”

“Only you. And Cinderella, of course”

You smacked his arm playfully, and in return, you were met with his lips on you. If someone saw you, you would probably have a lot of problems with your boss. He was very, very strict on the no-dating policy, or at least not kissing in the park.

Instead of pushed him away, you put your other hand across his chest and started playing with the black buttons of the vest he was wearing. Both of you were sweaty and spending time of your break, that was already short. Yet Tom didn’t push you away either, just angled his head so that the kiss wasn’t that awkward. He resisted the urge to stretch himself on the tip toes because you were taller than him, wearing just a small heel.

You pulled back when oxygen became short, and Tom just leaned again to peck your lips, swallowing your giggled.

“What’s got you so clingy?” you managed to say between quick kisses. “Someone’s gonna see us”

“And they won’t care, they’ve have seen us before” Tom pressed his lips against you once more.

“No, really” you pushed him a little bit. “Everything good?”

“Yeah, everything good. Just missed you, darling”

“Since this morning?” you raised an eyebrow when you got the idea why Tom was that clingy. “Or since you learned that I have a show today?”

Tom scoffed for an answer and you knew you were right. You both had talked about it – that you had to kiss other people for the job, and even act romantic about them. While in a normal day you didn’t have to do much with your partner, every week a Disney movie would get a show in the main castle of the park, and that week was Beauty and the Beast. Dancing, singing, wearing costumes – and following the original story, that said that Belle and Beast kissed at the end of the show.

He wasn’t really angry, he never was. And neither was you when he had to swoop Ariel off her feet and kiss her while fireworks ran behind them. But you had your days where it was hard, and Tom had a hard time saying he was jealous of a man who wore the Beast costume.

“You can always fight him with that sword of yours” you smiled at the blush on his cheeks. “But it might turn out bad, since it’s made of plastic”

“Shut up” Tom croaked out, confidence gone. “I have every right to be jealous, you’re kissing him almost every day! And – he get to slow dance with you, and kiss you, and –“

“And you’re the one who goes back home with me when the show is over” you interrupted him before he got carried away. “We can slow dance in the living room, and we kiss all the time even if we can get in trouble for it. You don’t have to be jealous”

Tom didn’t say anything else, just looked away. He knew you were right, that he didn’t have any right to be jealous and that he was pushing it by kissing you in the park. But at the same time, his brain was having a hard time walking past the need of hugging you close and flipping it off in the distance to the guy who played the Beast.

“If you want to, after the show we can go out for dinner. Tomorrow is our free day” you wrapped yourself around Tom, noses touching again.

“As long as I get to pick you up from the dressing room”

“As long as you don’t glare too much at Michael and don’t flip him off again” you half joked, thinking about how in your last show Tom had been giving your partner the puppy, angry eyes the whole time.

“Then we’re getting pizza and we’re watching a movie” Tom finished, kissing you once more, quick, time. “And I’m choosing everything”

“You’re lucky I love you”

If Marleen, the little girl that had been talking to Tom, saw Belle and prince Eric kissing and holding hands, she didn’t say anything. She just watched with an excited smile how them both leaned for a kiss once more, truly believing that she was a princess and would find his own prince.

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[creatively--challenged]

Dark Dealings - i // demon!Tom Holland x Reader au

Pairing: Demon!Tom Holland x Reader

Warnings: Implied smut, alcohol, feelings of being watched, slight noncon?

Word Count: 2.5k

Summary: Y/N and her friends decide it would be a great idea to mess around with a spell book they find in the library. What happens when she accidentally binds herself to a dangerous demon who takes a huge interest in her?

A/N: Hey guys, here’s the first part to my Demon!Tom au. I aim to make this a 3 part fic though with how much I run away with myself it could end up being longer. Anyway, enjoy! If you would like to be added / removed from my taglist please let me know.

It began as a joke. A book she had found in the library with her friends while they were studying for their final exams. Her best friend, Alex, had checked the book out to bring back to their apartment after the exam, something to incite excitement as they dimmed the lights, lit candles, drew the curtains and finally opened the heavy, leather bound, tome of what looked to be spells, hexes, and diagrams of summoning circles. Glasses of wine in hands, the girls lit some incense and candles, gathered around the giant rug in the middle of their living room with fluffy blankets around their shoulders, and pored over the ‘ridiculous’ book.

                “Can you believe they had this in a university library?” Alex sniggered, eyes sweeping over a supposed ‘love charm’, albeit with vague interest.  Y/N laughed lightly, raising the wine glass to her lips and letting out a contented sigh after she took a generous swig, thankful for the deep red liquid after the long week of exams.

                “If you think it’s so ridiculous why did you take it home and insist we all gather around in the dark to read it?” She questioned, quirking her eyebrows at Alex as she continued to scan through the book.

                “For fun. Same reason kids tell ghost stories at sleepovers even if they don’t believe in them.” She rolled her eyes, “Plus, if there’s a luck spell in here I might just give it a go anyway in the hopes it’ll help me pass those exams.” All of the girls raised their glasses to that.

                “I’m with you on that, although I might just try that love charm too, just in case, you know?” Maia, their other roommate, chimed in.

                Y/N leaned her head back against the sofa she was sitting against, eyes closed, finally relaxing after a long week as her two closest friends giggled about different pages in the book, listing a plethora of ‘spells’ such as one to find a lost item, a summoning spell for a desire demon, a hex for someone who had crossed you, and a charm for protection, which elicited a few giggles from the two girls. Y/N definitely heard the words “free birth control” through the laughter.

                “Hey, Y���N! This one’s for you, ‘A guiding spell to help you find someone worthy of your love’, it’s perfect! Maybe if you give this one a go you’ll stop bringing home god-awful dates.” Maia winked at you and Alex burst into laughter. Y/N rolled her eyes. Yes, she has had some terrible dates. Okay, she’s had a lot of terrible dates, and one or two terrible boyfriends too, but she never worried herself over it. That’s what college was for, right?

                “Excuse you! I didn’t mention anything about that blonde you came home with last Friday that barely lasted 5 minutes before I heard the front door open and close again.” Y/N shot back, Alex gasping and erupting into more chuckles as she watched her roommates tease each other.

                “You know what?” Alex said when she’d sobered up, “I say we all do it. We’re all worthy of love and God knows we’ve all been with awful people, be they one-night stands or relationships.” She admitted while reading through the steps to the spell.

                “Yes! Let’s do it, maybe we’ll magically meet some boys –“

                “And girls!”

                “-And girls that will make up for the past 5 years of dating.” Maia finished, shooting Alex an apologetic look. Y/N hummed and thought to go along with the girls’ plan. She’d like to think it was purely to keep them happy though the idea of the spell did seem tantalizing and if, by some miracle, it worked? She’d never snigger at corny TV shows where girls use love spells to find romance ever again.

                “Okay, I’m in. What do we need to do?” Alex started to explain the ingredients they needed, all common things that they probably had lying around the house. Flower petals from the weekly bouquet of flowers Maia bought, an apple each, more candles, and a lock of hair from each of them. As the girls gathered the ingredients and bowls to perform the spell and refilled their wine glasses, Y/N flicked through the book herself. Some pages were in English, though some appeared to be in Latin and she could not even make out the titles or purposes of those ones. It was almost as if there were two books stitched together, as the Latin pages looked far older than the ones written in English. Just as she came across a particularly serious looking spell with a lot of Latin inscriptions and diagrams that looked quite daunting she was jolted into an upright position by Alex calling her loudly from the kitchen. Y/N jumped and dropped the book back onto the luscious rug on the floor, earning a deep papercut on her finger in the process. She scowled as she turned towards the arch leading into the kitchen and held her finger up to her mouth to stop the blood from trickling down her hand.

                “Jesus, what? What’s so important you had to scare me half to death for?” She felt a little embarrassed about being scared so easily.

                “Do we have more wine?”  Alex asked, ignoring Y/N’s glares.

                “Ughhh yeah, on top of the fridge, I think?” She asked, finger still in her mouth.

                Y/N sat back against the couch, re-wrapped the blanket around her shoulders and waited on the girls to sit back down. She glanced around the room, feeling at ease in the dimly lit room as the shadows bounced in accordance with the dancing flames of the candles, until something felt suddenly… different. She wasn’t sure what it was, if anything at all, but she felt as if she was being watched. She subtly checked the windows but the thick, velvet, plum coloured curtains were heavily drawn shut without even a crack of the outside visible. The front door to the flat was also locked, she had made sure herself before she’d opened her wine. She glanced back to the book and found that when she had dropped it, it had fallen open on the page of the love spell they were about to perform, coincidentally.

                Maia and Alex eventually gathered themselves back around the ruby rug brandishing a new bottle of wine to share and placing the ingredients they needed around the tome.

                “Okay. So, we each have to hold our apples and imagine what kind of person we think we deserve the most, imbuing our apple with our wishes for love and filling it with the idea of our worthy partner. Then, we place the apples in our bowl, sprinkle our petals over the apples while holding onto the thought of that person, place our locks of hair into our bowls over the apple to attach the idea to our bodies, and then drop in the flower petals. Finally, light your candle and drip wax from it into the bowl while saying the incantation aloud.” Alex finished while passing a small scissors around for them to cut off a small lock of hair.

                Maia eyed the scissors skeptically. “You sure are serious about this, aren’t you? Do we have to cut our hair?” Alex rolled her eyes.

              “It’s only a little bit, you won’t even notice.”

 They all completed the steps to the spell in order, and finally all three read the incantation aloud, before reaching around to hold hands and wait. Except, nothing happened. The three eyed their bowls and each other in expectance.

                “Is something supposed to happen? What does the book say?” Maia asked, reaching for the book.

                “It doesn’t say! The page stops after the incantation… I suppose it’s not even real anyway. And if it is, we won’t really know, will we?” Y/N admits, finishing the rest of her wine before filling her glass up again generously while Alex suggests they do another one, one of the slightly more sinister looking ones.

                “No, absolutely not. I’m not cutting any more hair for a joke that none of us even believe anyway. Let’s just relax and talk about anything other than college or witchcraft, thank you.” Maia laid her head back against the couch, exhaling deeply, while Y/N agreed and Alex eventually gave in and started filling her friends in on her last escapade with a gorgeous girl from her Pysch lectures.

                Y/N checks her phone after a while, noting it was almost 3am. Maia had fallen asleep on the couch and now Alex wrestled with her to get her into bed, whispering a good night as she half carried Maia in the direction of their rooms. Y/N elected to tidy up the living room before bed, feeling more than just a little tired after the events of the day. As she turned the kitchen lights off and moved to the living room to pick up some stray cushions and throw blankets she felt that same strange uneasiness again. She eyed the book sideways, then shook her head, moving to blow out the candles that scattered the room. As she moved towards the centre of the room, she bent down to the book still lying on the floor and placed it on the coffee table. With a slight chuckle, she shook her head again at her apprehensive demeanour towards the bundle of pages.

She moved to walk out of the room and bent to blow out the last candle when she felt it again, but stronger this time. It overwhelmed her, and it wasn’t just an uneasiness this time, but fear. The kind that glued her to where she stood, even when she could clearly hear something move behind her. Eventually she found the courage to whip around, fists brandished as if she could fight off whatever intruder she came in contact with. Except… there was nobody there. Not that she could see much in the dim lighting, anyway, but the uneasiness disappeared. As quickly as it came, it went, though it was reinstated by fear again quickly, this time as a result of the sight of the spell book lying wide open on the floor from where Y/N had moved it.

She willed herself to move forward, closer to the book, eyes scanning the room for movement, and upon closer inspection she noticed the book hadn’t opened on the love spell this time. No, it was open on the page of a daunting looking Latin inscription, with carnal looking symbols and what looked like warnings scattered around the page. As she investigated the page closer, she noticed a smudge of what looked like blood down the side of the page. She felt an abrupt chill down her spine before she felt a hand cover her mouth from behind, while another wrapped around her waist and pulled her back into a feverishly warm body.

 “Why hello, darling. What have we here?” She felt lips against the shell of her ear and a devilishly low and raspy voice sounded in her ear. Y/N tried to struggle, to turn around and face her attacker, though she was trapped in his vice-like grip and found she could barely move an inch. “Now, now, let’s not be too hasty. Here’s what’s going to happen; I’m going to let you go and you’re going to turn around nice and slowly and stay quiet lest you want something terrible to happen to your little friends, not that they’re sober enough to do much, anyway. Understood?” She felt his hot breath against her ear and his lips brushed her jaw as he spoke, his voice deathly low and almost intoxicating. Y/N whimpered and nodded her head as much as his iron grip on her allowed.

She felt his arms loosen slightly, enough for her to turn herself around in them and face him slowly. She felt strangely compelled to do exactly as he said as the thought of crying out for help or making a dash for it didn’t even seem to cross her mind, something she guessed he knew as she caught her first glimpse of him, a confident, cocky almost, smirk adorned his perfect lips. It took her a second to take in the sight of him; he was perhaps the most attractive man she had ever seen, not much taller than she, though his demeanour made him seem 10ft tall. She found herself caught in his eyes, so dark she thought they were black, and noted him studying her as much as she studied him. He emanated a seductive aura, though there was definitely something off about this man, for he also gave off a distinct sense of danger.

 “How did you get into my house?” She tried to keep her voice steady, she dared not let him see how scared she was. He chuckled eerily at her and the area around him seemed to darken as his grip on her got tighter.

 “Why, darling, you invited me.” He leaned in close to her, his smell intoxicating, but strangely pleasant, addictive almost. Her face screwed up in confusion and just as she was going to protest, his dark eyes fluttered to the book lying open on the table, displaying the ancient looking scripture and the blood soaking the page. She wasn’t entirely sure what was going on but before she got a chance to ask him he’d spun her around and shoved her against the nearest wall, pressing his all too warm body against hers and holding her in place. When she struggled to get out of his grip he took hold of her chin, bringing her face up to his, his grip was solid, though not exactly painful. She was forced to look into his eyes, and a whimper fell from her lips as she noticed the whites of them were completely gone, his fully black orbs boring into hers as he smiled devilishly at her, almost sizing her up as if she was meat at the butcher’s counter.

 “What do you want?”

 “You. Just you.” His hand travelling down her body forced a gasp from her lips and he took this opportunity to dive forward and attach his mouth to hers, kissing her viciously, tongue delving in and out at his own pace, nipping her lips with his strangely sharp teeth. He pulled back as she caught her breath, utterly terrified, and his black eyes bored deep into hers while his mouth held a devious smirk.

 “Don’t you know not to play with magic you don’t understand? Why, you could be inviting any and all demons into your home.” He smirked as horror took over her face. Suddenly he lurched forward and clamped a hand over her mouth as he sank his teeth into the skin where her neck met her shoulder. She felt the world go black around her, an evil lingering in her skin, and felt his arms around her as he continued to mark her as his own. He broke away from her skin and the last thing she felt was his lips brushing her ear as he whispered softly to her;

 “Doesn’t matter anymore; you’re all mine now.”

Taglist : @cyrusandhiscollaredahirts​

@rachaeldonnaspiteri1​ @averyfosterthoughts​

[thiswasinevitableid]

Taste of Home (Indruck)

Prompt for the 13th was: strange harvest

Most days, Duck isn’t too worried about the dirt on his hands or the bits of leaves that stick to his clothes. Most days, he’s not about to meet with a reclusive, wealthy donor to the Kepler Botanical Gardens who has specifically requested Duck be present. 

When he enters the meeting room, Thacker is waiting for him along with a tall, pale-haired man sporting red glasses.

“Ah, here’s Duck now.” Thacker smiles. 

“Sorry, uh, thought we weren’t meeting until-”

“-One. You’re correct, I have a habit of getting a bit, ah, ahead of things t times.” The man offers a wide smile that’s polite but also gives Duck the heebie-jeebies.

“Duck, this here is Mr. Cold. He’s one of the garden’s longest standin supporters. He’s got a project for us, and asked that you be the one in charge of it.”

“I was quite impressed with your work on the native plant section, and I’m told you headed the transplant and maintenance of the tree specimens in the New Zealand section, which is no mean feat.”

“Thanks, I’m real proud of both. What do you have in mind? Is it an exhibit?”

“A private collection. Come, let me show you.” Mr. Cold unrolls a set of plans as Duck shoots a glance at Thacker.

“Didn’t know we did that sort thing.”

“We do for Mr.Cold. Whelp, I gotta go lead a tour. Mr. Cold, I leave you in Duck’s capable hands.”

He joins the taller man in front of the plans; they’re for a garden within a greenhouse, the structure as angular and distinct as the man requesting it. He knows the greenhouse hs Cold’s name above it, is usually used as a teaching space

“I imagine you think me rather selfish for requesting to use your space in such a way.” Mr. Cold doesn’t look up from where he’s making final notes on the paper, as if the answer is a foregone conclusion. 

“Think it’s kinda strange, but I ain’t about to rule on it bein selfish until you tell me what I’m actually doin.”

“I have several species of trees, flowers, and shrubs that I need grown. They are, ah, rather difficult to cultivate anywhere other than their native home, and I am not a skilled gardener at the best of times. Hence my seeking out someone who, I presume, has not killed multiple succulents in the last two months.” The man looks a little ashamed, then clears his throat, “the plants I am asking you to grow are the only specimens of their kind on earth.”

“How’d you get them, then?” Duck tries to keep the suspicion out of his voice, but this feels more and more like some rich guy made an impulse purchase of something that should be in a seed bank or species ark somewhere.

“I brought small specimens over from my home, which is where they grow. But I couldn’t keep them alive, and they were already rare. Last I heard they were all wiped out by an, ah, an illness. I stored seeds from my specimens in hopes of one day regrowing them.”

Duck looks at the diagram closely; the plant’s are actually sketched in, not just noted by name and the number of eraser marks suggest Mr. Cold spent a long time planning out exactly where each one went.

“You’re askin us to do all this because you’re homesick?”

“Yes. I have been away from home for a long, long time. The Kepler gardens have been a refuge for me. Lately I’ve been drawn to the woodland and prairie type sections.”

“I helped with a lot of those.”

Mr. Cold turns to him with a smile, “I know. That is another reason I requested you. But, before we go any further, I must make something clear; these specimens they mean...they are so, so precious to me. And secrecy is a must, for reasons I can only half explain. They would be solely under your care and protection. If that is not a responsibility you wish to take, I understand entirely.”

Behind the red glasses, Duck can just see a glint of hope. 

“Think I’m up to the challenge.”

“Wonderful” Mr. Cold claps his hands together, “in that case, there is not a moment to lose. Here, this is everything you need.” He produces a briefcase, inside which sits ten packets of seeds and three pits, bout the size of an avocado pit.”

“All the information I have on ideal growing conditions is in the attached notebook, and the seeds are labeled. If you have any questions, ny at all, my phone number is in there s well.”

 He pauses, smiles, and murmurs to himself, “it's been awhile since I gave anyone my phone number.”

Duck opts to ignore the stealthy glance at his arms and carefully takes the case, “Thanks, this’ll all be real helpful. 

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

He doesn’t see his new patron (as Juno calls Mr. Cold) for a week. When he does, he’s on his belly, checking for any sign of sprouts in the greenhouse. 

“How goes the growing?” Mr. Cold asks from the direction of Duck’s feet. 

The gardener rolls over and sits up, “Not much to report, just trying to keep an eye on ‘em so I don’t miss anythin important.”

Mr. Cold offers his hand, helping Duck up, “I appreciate the care you’re taking, Duck. I hope it isn’t cutting into your other work too badly.”

“Had to move somethings around, but that's just the nature of this kind of work.”

Mr. Cold chuckles, “Pun intended?”

“Uh, I guess.”

“Oh. Your, h, your lunch time is coming up right? I was wondering if you would let me take you to lunch as an, ah, extra thank you?” He’s spinning a small ring on his finger, the shyness almost charming, and Duck felt neutral at best about the sandwich he brought today.

“Sure, thanks.”

Mr. Cold grins, “Oh good. Where would you like to go? I hear the crystal palace has a lovely lunch.”

“The fancy Japanese place? Pretty sure they got a dress code.”

“Brush off the dirt and you look completely respectable.”

Duck raises an eyebrow, “I was talkin about you.”

They both stare down at the classy but still very clear pajama pants Mr. Cold is wearing. 

“Fair point. How do you feel about Indian food?”

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

Duck’s stepped into some sort of painting. And here he thought he was just wandering into the birch grove. 

Indrid (“”I really prefer that name”) is laying on his back on a bench. Sun streams between the branches, falling across his face, making it all angle and shadow in ways Duck wants to sit and study. His silver hair is ruffling in the breeze, and his glasses are pushed up his forehead. Eyes shut and hands folded on his stomach, he reminds Duck of the paintings in fairytales of someone waiting for true loves kiss. 

He’s worried he might be the one to give it.

They’re having lunch once a week at least now, the awkwardness of the first time melting away as Duck got going on a tangent about dandelions only to find Indrid, elbows on the table and chin in his hands, listening to him so intently he blushed on reflex. Then he was giggling as Indrid pulled a custom-made curly straw out of a small tin in order to drink his Mango lassi. And then Indrid had laughed at his laugh and it all fell into place, the conversation so easy it’s as if they’d know each other for years. 

Then there were the frequent visits by Indrid to the greenhouse to check on the progress. Which, if Duck does say so himself, if pretty fucking good. The plants are thriving, reaching for the light, and the trees are already flowering in deep blue stars, the speed with which they reached adulthood fascinating to him. Sometimes Indrid just comes to see the gardens, but always seeks Duck out to say hello and smile that increasingly charming smile at him. 

But the biggest change has come with Indrid asking if Duck would be interested in designing a small garden for him 

“Something very simple and manageable. Hardy too.”

“Any plant preferences?”

“No, I trust your judgement entirely, though you may have to help me with their maintenance the first few weeks, if that is alright.”

Duck would have done it even if Indrid wasn't paying him. He liked sitting in the living room, surrounded by strange art and  crumpled papers, showing Indrid how to tend houseplants. And when they sit on the back porch, each dirt-smudged and grass stained, Indrid sipping soda while Duck nursed a single beer, the other man kept beaming at the new, small patch of garden, Duck’s heart wanted to burst from his chest and flutter around. 

Last night, he stayed late for dinner, and as he was checking over the houseplants…

“I’m fond of this one. It’s sturdy and makes me smile, much like you.” Indrid murmurs as he steps beside him. 

Duck slides a smile his way “Dunno, partial to this snake plant we chose; unique and kinda tall, just like you.”

It’s the worlds weakest flirtation, but as Indrid steps away his fingers tease Duck’s lower back, “I wonder if they can cross-pollinate.”

All of this is why Duck decides to leave Indrid be. Because playing prince charming to one of the gardens donors could backfire and shatter his whole career if he reads things wrong. 

The path takes him past Indrid, and he steps lightly. But just as he passes Indrid's head, cool fingers find his own. 

“How is my favorite flora expert today?” Indrid purrs, eyes still shut.

“Good. Uh. Yeah, good. How’d you know-”

“It was you? I have my ways.” Indrid grins, squeezing his hand once before letting go, “are we still on for lunch tomorrow? I can bring you that soup you like.”

“That’d be great.” Duck hesitates, reaches down and ruffles Indrid’s hair. The other man sighs, rubs his face against Ducks palm. 

“I can't wait.”

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

It takes him until ten pm to remember he left his phone in the greenhouse. Which would not be a problem, except he’s supposed to take a call early tomorrow from Jane, the first time in months they’ve been able to talk.

Plus, he’s been having an excellent text conversation with Indrid until his last rounds, sending him pictures of the plants in the greenhouse, which all look ready to bloom in the next day, and the strange fruit on the trees; speckled gold and white, and smelling faintly of marshmallow. Indrid’s reply texts were filled with excitement (and a great deal of praise, which Duck is thoroughly enjoying).  He wants to keep that going as soon as he can.

He finds his phone on the workbench, looks up just in time to see glowing red eyes reflected in the glass. 

Something’s in the greenhouse with him. Which should be impossible, because only two people have the keys. 

Turning, he scans the plants and spots a large, dark shape holding very still behind the trees. Which would work better if said trees were not so thin.

“I am aware this is not a good hiding place.”

Duck gasps, not expecting it to talk, then steps back when the creature emerges. It towers over him, antennae twitching and wings rustling slightly. His mind puts all the pieces together, and he understands only half of them. 

“Why the fuck is the mothman breakin into my greenhouse.”

The antenna flatten slightly, “I am not breaking in. Do you see any broken glass?”

“No, but I got one key, and the only other person with one ain’t here. And put those down, they ain’t yours.” Duck reaches for the two fruits, each clasped between a pair of clawed hands, only for Mothman to raise his arms. 

“They are, in fact, mine. If you would stop trying to knock me over I can explain.”

“Uh uh, first you gotta put down Indrid’s things, then you can explain.”

The creature chirrs, annoyed, and points at its neck, “His things? Such as this key perhaps?”

Duck stops moving, staring at the key before rising his gaze to the mothmans face and meeting his eyes for the first time. 

“What the fuck? Indrid, what the fuck?”

A sheepish chirp, “There was not a good way to tell you I am a famous cryptid. At least, I did not feel there was one. I was worried you would be afraid of me if you knew.”

“Feelin a little too confused to be afraid. Did, did I just grow a mothman garden instead of a butterfly garden?”

The laugh is unmistakably Indrid, “In a way. I was telling the truth when I said these were from my home, but my need for them went beyond homesickness. Every twenty five years, my kind are compelled to eat these. It is not fatal if we don’t, but we suffer a very unpleasant illness for several weeks if we do not. I resigned myself to that sickness until I began visiting these gardens, and saw there were people who might be able to help me. My own powers, including foresight, cannot replace a green thumb. Your green thumb went beyond anything I could ever have hoped for. This” he gestures to the trees with their glittering fruit, the flowers blooming in a  rainbow of glowing star-shapes, “Duck I, I haven't seen a sight like this in close to a  hundred years.”

Duck holds his breath as Indrid steps towards him, bending to rest his downy forehead against Ducks.

“Thank you, Duck Newton. Thank you for giving me a taste of home.”

The human reaches up to touch a black, fuzzy cheek, “Does this mean you gotta leave or somethin, now that I know your secret identity?”

“Not unless you are planning to tell everyone you’ve been acting as the Mothman’s personal gardener.”

“Nah, rather tell ‘em about the cute fella I’m takin to dinner tomorrow.”

Indrid blinks, “You...you do not find this alarming?”

“I mean, you’re big and a little terrifyin, but you’re still Indrid. And it means a lot that you actually stayed and told me who you were, instead of just flyin off.”

There’s a deep purr as Indrid says, “In that case, may I invite you to dinner at my house, Duck Newton? I can even share some of this strange harvest with you.”

Duck grins, drawing his fingers long Indrids arm, “That your way of tellin me they’re an aphrodisiac?”

Indrid nuzzles his cheek and pulls him close, “I guess we’ll find out.”

[cherry-ber]

Too drunk to fuck (pt 4)

Part 1 | Previous

Inevitably, after random small talks with the boys, your phone rang and when you finally picked it up, you had five missed calls from your parents, and you had to get back home. You said goodbye to the tipsy boys, and promised to hang out with them again soon. Mark gave you his gloves, because suddenly the night became cold, and you both rode back to your place, he'd look back at you every red light, since the wind was making you tremble in cold, he'd laugh nervously every time you put your hands on his pockets to keep them warm.

Upon arriving, you knew your dad was probably waiting in the living room for you, so you didn't let him get close to the front door, and just as you were kissing him goodbye, both your parents opened the door to you holding hands.

“Are you children coming in?” your mom asked, not a hint of her being angry at all, but judging by the time you arrived, you knew she was beyond displeased.

Mark was about to decline, but your dad gave him the look.

“Son, come on in, it's late and you don't want to drive that thing without chatting with us, do you?” That thing, of course, reminded him of his old Harley. Your mom had a thing for bikers, and apparently you did too. Probably, a little bit intimidated by your father, Mark agreed to having a cup of coffee with you inside.

At first it was embarrassing and uncomfortable, because you knew what your parents wanted to hear about your relationship with Mark, but unfortunately there was nothing between you two, and what was actually going on would piss them off, after telling them that those hours that you spent making out, you were in the taking a special Science course. But things got smooth quickly, after your dad learned all the things he had in common with Mark, and after skipping the fact that you were tipsy all the time you were talking, obviously none of you told them you were drinking and smoking an hour away from home.

“I hate to be that kind of dad, Mark, but I have to know, since I don't want my daughter coming at 1 a.m every night, what kind of relationship do you children have?”

You noticed Mark's jaw tightened, his hands also tensed, and he held his breath for a second that felt like hours.

“He's just a good friend, dad, Jaemin couldn't bring me home earlier since he was helping a friend with his car, it ran out of gas, and since it was getting cold, he offered me a lift” You intervened, knowing that you didn't want to hear whatever Mark was planning to reply. You knew you were a good liar, but this one came out so smoothly and naturally that for a moment, Mark himself believed it.

“I see... Is Jaemin the moron that picked you up and didn't bother to say hi?” you nodded “is that your boyfriend?” you shook your head no “that's great, he's banned, I don't want you driving around in that car with him” Mark let out a giggle “then you children should go to sleep”

You stood up, ready to say goodbye but your mom finally talked again after staring at you suspiciously.

“What are you doing? It's late. Mark, bring your bike inside the garage and you can sleep in the couch”

Your parents were always very nice with your friends, but you didn't want that with Mark, you didn't want them to think about him that way, because you knew that it was only about time before he left you.

“I really shouldn't, I don't want to abuse your hospitality”

“Come on, love, it's late, you can stay with Y/N in the living, it could be dangerous outside”

It didn't take long for him to say yes, so you had to stay with him in the couch. You decided you were both sleeping in the floor, so you built a fort and laid next to each other.

“You know, Y/N I never thought you were so much of a liar”

“Huh?”

“Jaemin? Helping someone with their car?”

“Oh, right. Don't be loud, I don't really want them to know it was a lie”

“I mean yeah, but I am impressed... Have you ever lied to me?”

In the dark, you could barely distinguish him from his shadow, he was playing with his hands and breathing slowly, you couldn't see his face but you knew that he was smiling.

“We never speak, how could I ever lie to you, hum?”

Silence. You thought maybe he fell asleep, after all, it was really late.

“Right”

It was your turn to stay quiet. You didn't intend to make him feel bad, in case that was what happened, and this was your chance to get closer to him. I mean, you were sleeping together, how much closer could you get anyway.

“I am indeed a good liar” you started and heard him turn around, so you proceeded “I am also very sensitive, I cry often for the dumbest reasons. I like to be alone, but I crave human interaction sometimes. I don't like the smell of cigarettes, but I've been smoking for a while and of course my parents don't know, don't even ask. I also like to cook, I'm pretty good, I would say”

“Is any of that a lie?”

“Yes. Guess which one.”

He took his time, humming for some minutes

“You don't like to be alone. If you did, you would've never accepted to meet me after class”

“That's wrong. All of those are lies, but I am in fact a good cook”

He laughed and placed his hand on your hip bone

“Let me tell you something, I used to think you were incredibly gorgeous, but upon meeting you, I know now that you are also smart, and funny and I just want to how is it possible that you are so charming”

It was a blessing that it was so dark, because you didn't want him seeing you blushing the way you did.

“What is that supposed to mean anyway?”

You heard sounds coming up from your parents room, and you realized that of course they were trying to listen

“It means we should sleep, it's very late” he turned around again, his back facing you, and you immediately missed his hands on you.

“Goodnight, Mark”

He said nothing, and after some minutes you felt asleep, he noticed you did when your breath became deeper. He turned to face you. In the dark he couldn't really see your face, but he imagined your closed eyes and your nose slightly pink from the heat your body was creating. He imagined caressing your cheek, cupping your face with his hands, playing with your hair and making you laugh when he was kissing all over your face, but he didn't, he didn't even move a finger, he stayed away, and told himself it was better that way.

In the morning, you forgot where you were, and panicked when you saw Mark's face slightly covered by a blanket. He looked adorable, and you resisted the urge to hug him.

You were thankful you woke up early and immediately went to wash your face and brush your teeth, you went to the kitchen and made pancakes.

You were loud enough to wake him up, so he went looking for you and couldn't help but smile when he saw you.

“How are you up so early?” he scared you but you didn't jump when you heard his voice

“I was hungry”

You ate your breakfast and he told you he should leave already, but you didn't want him to.

“I'll see you tomorrow after class, I swear”

He took his jacket, and went to the garage. You saw him riding away, and you wondered if you made any progress with him.

Sunday, 8:36 a.m, Na Jaemin: “Are you coming with us today?”

Sunday, 8:37 a.m: “where?”

“actually, don't tell me, I don't I'd be able to go”

Sunday, 8:37 a.m, Na Jaemin: “Well we're not taking Mark, but Jeno and I are going somewhere, I thought maybe you'd like to join us”

“«somewhere» means his place, I'm helping him organize his room, he's messy.”

“No drinks or drugs I swear”

“Well unless you want to”

Sunday, 8:39 a.m: “mmmmm k, pick me up in like three hours pls”

Sunday, 8:39 a.m, Na Jaemin: “Will do. See you xox😘”

Sunday 8:40 a.m : “🤢🤢”

Next

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

A.N: Okay I love this song so much, maybe you can't tell but that's somehow the way Mark feels about Y/N. Talking that, have you been listening to the songs I add? I got a message saying they were and they liked them, that's why I keep attaching them lmao, I hope you don't mind it.

I wanted to thank you again for your feedback and for taking the time to message me or reply or ask, and to like and reblog this, too.

I'm thinking about a new project, involving a horror story and any other nct member, I'm thinking Hyuck or Chenle because I adore them but if you had any suggestions / requests, I'd be happy to read them.

Anyway, I wanted to upload this earlier but of course I didn't, I'm sorry about, I'll work on a schedule for you to know when I'll update if that's easier uwu

[sugarcookiesandsins]

Charmed [Episode 3]

➰ ot7 x reader, poly!bts x reader, mafia!bts ➰they wouldn’t notice her until she was standing above them, a smoking gun in her hand a bullet in their heart  🌡 M 🛑 heavy violence  🕛  6.1k+

✍️:  @yeomjoo​ - Thank you dear for editing this! 

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Tag List: @missseoulite @omgsuperstarg @slutkoo @asifetch7 @kawaiimusiccollection @namupeachs @xicanacorpse @bubbletae7 @crackhead1-800

Stepping out into the main room of the restaurant, it wasn’t difficult to gather that something big had happened. You bristled at the sight of the men who sat at the bar only meters away. You knew that they had seen you from the way their brown eyes widened, but you glanced over that sudden movement not giving a reaction in favor of pretending to be looking for a seat which seemed to be the better option

Thankfully, the owner waved you over to the same bar and placed you in the next seat over from Kim Taehyung, whose eyes had already begun to trace your form. Neither he nor Jungkook had noticed that Seokjin had recognized you —and if they did — they didn’t give anything away as you sat down. In proper restaurant fashion, you were asked for your order and delivered your food shortly thereafter. Since sitting down, you had only lifted your head a few times, mostly noting the nearest waiter or watching the people around you in a rather absent-minded sort of boredom.

Soon enough, the boys had come to the conclusion that the man they were looking for was not there and nodded covertly to signal it was time to leave. Just as the two younger members started to put weight on their feet, they were dragged back down, a rough tug coming to lay on their shoulders. Glancing at each other in bewilderment, they looked up. 

[KTH]

I looked at Jungkook, my eyes widening. Shrugging my shoulders in response to the offending hand sitting on my jacket, following it down to the shoulder it was attached to. I wondered what reason Jin hyung had for keeping us here when it was obvious that Eli had given us the slip again.

His eyes lay  focused a little ways down the make-shift bar that Jungkook and I sat at. Sadly, the alcoholic selection was limited, but the ramen smelled divine; I had half a mind to ask if we could eat here but I already knew the answer. It would always be ‘one day’, and if that were truly the case, then I could wait.

The girl that  Seokjin was focused on appeared forgettable at best, she didn’t do much to stand out in the crowded restaurant. Her shoulders were hunched towards her phone in pure concentration, her eyes focused intently something colorful on her screen.

She was utterly forgettable. No need to think too much.

Eli on the other hand, he was someone that I had always loved to watch. He worked with such grace that it was difficult to tell whether he was even human with the way he moved. He was like smoke. He was just dark enough that you could feel the tendrils on your fingertips for a split second before it faded into the atmosphere.

Kim Seokjin, much like the younger boys had dismissed you swiftly as a commoner, only pausing momentarily to think back to that day at the mall.  Yet, he found that his eyes kept trailing back to your form, which sat illuminated by the soft light emitted from your smartphone. He didn’t know what it was that caught his attention — but like Hoseok, you had drawn him in.

He recalled the day in the mall. The contrast between your active form in the store and your currently relaxed one against the window was startling. Even now, you broke all the right stereotypes, forgoing the expensive restaurants for this hole-in-the-wall. True, there was an art to home-cooked comfort food, but most old-money didn’t have that appreciation due to having been fed gourmet food since the day they were born. This gave him more information about you: you were new money. There was no heiress under the denim jacket that you wore.

However, different from the prior situation in the mall, he could now come up with a reason to interact with you. Though not a very strong one, you were the closest person to them and they could question you about their current target. Deciding that there was no point in stalling, he stood up from his chair and almost rolled his eyes at the sudden silence that enveloped the room. Despite that, he kept his eyes on you as you realized the newfound silence and turned your head to find the cause.

Almost immediately, Seokjin locked eyes with you, continuing to stare in your direction. You simply raised an eyebrow and tilted your head to look around the room. After all, you were supposedly a foreigner who hadn't the slightest clue about BTS. Locking eyes with Seokjin once again, you acknowledge him as the cause and turned back to your phone with disinterest. Realizing their hyung’s target, the two glared at the rest of the patrons, who immediately snapped back into the conversation.

Stepping out into their walkway, Seokjin rounded Taehyung and made his way towards you. You sensed him but gave no indication that you knew he was moving in your general direction A sixth-sense was something only built up after years of training and would be a dead give-away if any of the boys were smart and you suspected that they were.

Keeping your eyes on your phone in one hand and your chopsticks in your other hand, you ignored his imposing figure until you felt a hand come to rest on your shoulder. You attempted to resist the urge to twist his arm, the more common line of self-defense if you ever felt an enemy coming at you from behind. Yet, nothing could stop the minute twitch of your fingers as you consciously resisted that urge.

This was what Jungkook zeroed in on as he watched the interaction between you and Seokjin. So, she had some self-defense training, he thought to himself as he recalled his own strategy for cowards who came at him in the same way. Taehyung, on the other hand, focused on your face and the expression of surprise. It was pure in a way that he hadn't seen on any of the girls he had been with previously. There was no sinner’s glint in foggy irises.

Pretending to startle, you whirled around to face the “unknown” assailant who had retreated into a placating gesture, both palms facing you, fully intending to ward off any attacks

“Sorry about the scare. I was just wondering if I could ask you some questions?”

Well, that wasn’t odd at all. You tilted your head, running through all the possible responses you could give. The love-struck fool was out of the equation, and so was the innocent dove.

Deciding that the less you interacted with them — the better you would be in the long run — you pulled out the ‘Levi’.

Raising your hand, you counted your statements, “No, we have not met before. Yes, I am new to Seoul. Yes, I come here often. No, I don’t want you to buy me a drink. And no, it did not hurt when I fell from heaven, but it did when I crawled up from hell.” 

Tilting your head at him, you followed up with a question. “Did I miss anything, or do you actually have something unique to try on me?"

Seokjin could only stare at the spitfire in front of him. Yes, he had met with all kinds of girls before, but never one with the audacity to immediately whirl around and continue her meal, ignoring his looming presence. It was an immediate dismissal and wounded his pride more than the snickers of his blood-brothers from behind. Clearing his throat to reign in his composure, he tried again.

“Actually, I was looking for someone and I was wondering if you've seen him.” 

Stupidly, it seemed, you had hoped that it was someone else that they were looking for. Coincidences were miracles, but they did happen. “well, you see, his name is Eli and he said he would meet us here, but we haven’t seen him. He’s about your height and has blonde hair.”

“I guess miracles won't just happen when I need them to,” you thought wryly to yourself, hiding your annoyance behind a mask of indifference.

“So you're not quite the same as the others, you chuckled, waving your hand, “and again, I have an answer for you. No, I haven't seen your friend.” You ended your sentence with a tone of finality as you tossed a couple bills on the counter and collected your backpack. This had taken enough time out of your day as it was. You still had to go to the mall and check the furniture store records.

With hardly a glance, you stalked out the door, not bothering to hide the form that years of training bestowed upon you. Mostly out of personal curiosity, you wondered how well Jungkook was trained. Apprentices had knowledge of it, while masters recognized it, not only in themselves, but in others. It was a bearing of the deepest shadows, light on the feet yet each step purposeful and in preparation. For what? No one could tell, but it was predacious to the core. 

A slight gasp of breath gave you an answer. He was very well trained indeed, but you were better.

“So, is she crawling into your bed tonight Jin-hyung?” It was a low jab and Taehyung knew it.

“Not tonight, but hopefully one day.” There was no backing to that statement, but a man could hope. Especially when a fellow predator was involved.

After leaving the boys in the noodle shop, you made your way back to the mall where you had bought furniture. Following long internal debates — each of which made you wince as you recalled the tattoo — you finally decided to say screw it and go through with it. Besides, worst case scenario, you would have to just follow the on the day they came to pick up the furniture from the store. Either way, you would be getting their home address before they found you or Eli.

The walk to the mall had given you time to think about what BTS could possibly want with Eli. It was obvious that his escapades had caught the attention of BigHit and now they wanted something with him. The real question was what? At this point, you were leaning towards the fact that they wanted to eliminate him. The reasons were clear. He had no loyalty ties to any one sect. He was a wild card that they couldn’t account for and they didn’t seem to like that. On top of that, you never  paid much attention to who you took for and it was almost guaranteed that those people may have been BigHit associates.

Thus, if you wanted to avoid death, you would have to hold an advantage over the boys. Not only did the surprise visit from Jin allow you to figure out Eli’s stance from here on out, but it also gave you an opportunity to observe them at a closer distance. It was then that you noticed the silver medallion. It was small to say the least, barely the size of the pad of your thumb, but it was enough. It seemed as if there was something carved on it and taking a small detour to your blurry mental images of Taehyung and Seokjin, you could have sworn  that they had the same crimson caressing their necks and shoulders before disappearing below the color of their button-ups. That wasn’t the only thing. While you were sitting at the shop’s bar, it was not difficult to notice the glare of the lights across their wrists.  Their watches were of a similar fashion too. 

Leaving that thought for the insomniac’s brain, you entered through the glass doors of Coex Mall, making a beeline for the same furniture store that had plagued your thoughts. Walking past the familiar store front, you encountered the very salesman that had sold you your wares. He was all too happy to oblige, thinking that you had come in to add more items to your already long list of deliveries, thus getting him a fatter paycheck at the end of the month. This feeling you knew all too well, having been subject to commission work under Maestro with only a percent of contract cuts delivered to your private account. Yet, that was more than enough considering the level of your clientele lately.

“How can I help you, Miss?” The man's voice was laced with the customer service sweetness that you had come to hate. Still, what could either of you do? Both of you were subject to a power higher than your own. You, to your need for revenge and him to fulfill his boss’s desires.

“I came in a couple weeks ago and ordered some items but I lost the receipt and the date of purchase.”

“Don’t worry ma’am. I can check our system for your information.” He turned towards the store’s front desk, motioning you to follow him. You obliged as if there were any other option. Soon enough — his search was done and with a small smile — you requested that a copy of the receipt be printed. The moment the door swung closed behind him, you leaned over the desk to view the screen that he had printed from. Clicking the back button, you were met with the screen of recent orders, yours highlighted in a blue so that it was identifiable among the hodgepodge of text. Scanning the lines above and below, it was surprisingly easy to find the order labeled 'Jung Hoseok'. Half suspecting the lack of a fake name and half thankful as your job became easier, you clicked the 'Print Receipt' button that was next to his name. The automatic pop up had a lot of information — but since you heard the familiar footsteps of the salesperson — you snapped a picture with your phone before maneuvering back to the screen with the list of names.

Before turning to the suited man, you plastered a face of slight panic across your features, like a child making up an excuse for why their hand was in the cookie jar. “I’m sorry. I was trying to read more about the  information on my  order, and I think I accidentally clicked something.” Eyes blown wide and a slight blush on your cheeks, it was an act that deserved an Oscar for best visual effects. The worker could do nothing but let out a small chuckle at your flustered state and rather ungraceful  Korean.

In all honesty, he wasn't too worried about you viewing the other orders. The font size was quite small and as a foreigner, and as your salesperson, he had already seen that your Korean wasn’t overly comfortable. Anything you had seen probably looked like lines of jargon. It was a blatantly easy way to dispel any concern about you being a security risk to the store.

If he had looked closer, he would have recalled the speed with which you understood the screen when the topic of discussion was your own purchases and order. If he had cared to notice, most of your writing to him had been in Korean, indicating a decent knowledge of the intricacies of the language. If he had shifted his gaze to the right by about a foot to your phone on the table, all the commands and labels were in Korean. Though there were a few extenuating cases, most of the time, a person’s phone was programmed in a language that they understood perfectly.

But he was only human, and a very untrained one at that. His brain liked to take the easy way out of troubles and subconsciously, that is what he did. Though he did not think of the paperwork a security risk would entail, some part of him did, so he chose to dismiss you and let the torturous documents float away in the breeze.

There was nothing stopping you  from snatching the paper out of his hand like the strike of a snake and making your way out of the store, letting empty words of ‘places to be’ fill the space you had  just vacated.

Making your way through the mall towards the entrance, you were pleasantly surprised when there were no signs of any of the Bangtan Boys. Then again, you understood why there was no one there. They were looking for Eli. A male with blonde hair who looked like he slept in the cheapest apartment in the city. They were not looking for you — a girl with enough money to make heads roll — decked out in attire that practically screamed wealthy.

Once in the safety of your own home, you wasted no time in getting comfortable in the office with the covert picture you had taken earlier. The order was most certainly under the name Jung Hoseok. It had bugged you ever since you first saw it on the computer screen. You had no idea why there wasn't a fake name on the screen. True, there would be no need to hide anyways. His presence in the shop would be enough to cause a stir, so, anonymity was out the window.

Pulling your gaze lower on the paper, you scanned briefly over the items that were ordered. It was an interesting collection of items. As far as you know, they had been together for quite a long time. Either one of them had destroyed a room, so they were setting up for a new housemate. Obviously one of the guesses would be Eli. They were looking for him, and you doubted it was for shits and gigs or a coffee date.

Or, it could be someone else that they were looking for and they wanted Eli to help deal with said other person. It was still up in the air at this point.

Towards the bottom of the paper, you were astonished to see an address within the information about product procurement.

 Huh. Miracles do happen when I want them too. 

Still, you were wary. Much like the mystery of the missing alias, your brain was confused by the mysterious nature of the delivery address. The second one didn’t have that same ring to it, but what did it matter? Both things puzzled you..

The delivery date was set within the next week or so and it wasn’t difficult to keep away from the people chasing you as you maintained a wide berth from the center of their search, the noodle shop which still housed a set of your costume. Thankfully, you always had extras so the mall bathroom became your new art studio as you painted on a more masculine face to cover the softer curves of your natural features. It would be useful to get more used to this personality. After all, you would be using it more often, especially when Bangtan finally got their hands on you.

There was something off-putting about the location of the delivery of furniture. Then again, empty warehouses always had a certain eeriness about them. Still, you'd be damned if the dark and shadows deterred you from your goal. Here you were — almost a day before the designated delivery date — and making yourself comfy among the rafters,  settling down to wait.

You hated yourself for your choice to come early. On the other hand, he trained side of you knew if it were any later, you would be on their radar. In true mafia fashion, they began to scope out the location five hours prior. Even then, the members were smart enough to know to never make a  direct reference to the building, choosing to only drive around its vicinity and a few other buildings erected on the waterfront. Police were on their tail 24/7 waiting for one of them  to mess up.  They wanted anything that would give them an excuse to blow Big Hit wide open with evidence irrefutable even by the higher-ups who were feeding their family off dirty money.

So you waited until one of the cars came closer than the rest and idled near the  front of the east entrance of the building. You listened to every movement: from the driver walking across the crunchy gravel to open the door, to the deep rumble of voices alighting from italian leather couches, and to the opening of the door as you finally saw the men that you would be staining your hands with. Granted, not all of them were there, but a majority were. You were more than happy with the outcome. Hoseok entered first. It was obvious enough. His name was on the order and he would most likely  be the one signing the papers. The four that followed were the ones that came for security purposes and to help move the boxes. Their physical strength was painfully obvious from the way that their jackets hugged layers of muscle that rippled with each step they took.

Their faces were like stone as the door closed behind them. By blocking out the light from the outside they also blocked prying eyes. It hit you with great intensity the pressure on their shoulders. There was a stark difference between their stone cold faces  and the bright grins they now directed towards each other. You knew they were still in their prime and they were subjected to far worse at a younger age, but it never hit you until now. Their voices floated up towards you as they cracked jokes in the fragile cage of a warehouse.

Taking the time to observe them, you noted that they were still in  semi-formal clothing that appeared to be the epitome of haute couture, tailored to follow every plane of skin. Tracing the flow of fabric down their arms — you stopped at the right wrist of each boy — pleasantly surprised at the familiar gleam of metal that hung there.

You continued to silently watch as the boys messed around, killing time until the furniture delivery arrived. Seokjin was the only one that didn't participate, opting instead to be on his phone a little ways away, typing away with such ferocity that you could hear the click every time a manicured nail hit the glass screen. You assumed that he was talking with the Kingpin, Kim Namjoon. It was no secret that the two were close, having been trained by their fathers together “So,” Jimin started, already bored of the antics of the younger two, “any news about our trouble making pickpocketer?” 

Taehyung and Jungkook both paused at the mention of the person that warranted them being taken off  other things they were working on and had therefore forced them to sit in a run-down noodle shop for the better part of the day. They didn’t even get to eat anything while they were there.

“It seems that he went underground,” Jin muttered angrily, frustrated at his own inability to complete the assignment. He had tailed the boy and had — only lost line-of-sight for a second when he had rounded a corner onto a side-street where the noodle shop was located —which had apparently been enough time for the boy to disappear among the bystanders littered across the street.

Taehyung snickered, amused by the annoyance on his elder’s face. It was a rare emotion that marred the normally soft features that characterized a conversationalist of Bangtan. It was amusing to see Jin so emotional about such an insignificant person. Well, perhaps not completely insignificant, especially if their boss wanted him brought in for a job. Normally, BTS wasn't bothered  to lose new street players to their partner groups as thievery was never part of their modus operandi. This could be the first time in history that BigHit was looking out of their familiar circles for a member, even if he was a temporary one.

“Annoyed, hyung?” Jungkook had grown up with the seven boys and was sensitive to their moods as the youngest. It may have been that he was practically raised by them, not having too much contact with his own father outside of training sessions which had ended pretty early due to the fateful disappearance of the previous Bangtan generation. He knew exactly who was responsible for taking them away, all the boys knew, and now they were just waiting for the moment to strike

“Probably not as annoyed as he was when that chick rejected him.” Taehyung’s snicker echoed through the giant warehouse You thought they would forget about you, dismissed as some eccentric foreigner and leave it at that. You didn’t think that your words would warrant getting attention from the males over whom you were precariously hanging.

Not even a bladed glare could deter Taehyung from spilling the details to a clueless Jimin who was looking questioningly at his partner in crime, who erupted into a full-body laugh. Being another one of the members with more of a social role — especially with the fairer sex — always made Taehyung interested in the unbreakable, especially when he was cocky enough to believe he was an exception. And from what he had seen, you were a diamond, but so was he.

Jungkook had been there that day and he had only filled in details such as your exact words when you took Jin down a couple notches, metaphorically in this case. Still, Jungkook had observed you stalk out of the shop, with the same controlled pace that he had. There had been no doubt that you could've knocked Jin down physically as well.

After he had heard the full story, even Jimin giggled. He may've been assigned a more introverted role, but his sharp looks were enough to draw any unsuspecting woman into his bed for a night. He had always enjoyed spitfires whose personality he could control like one would control a candle with an oxygen supply. The more he fed into them, the more they emitted sparks and crackles. It always made for a sore back the next morning, but he didn’t mind. It was a small price to pay for the immense pleasure that they gave him.

Hoseok could practically see the smoke rising past Jin’s ears and decided to make them quit before their new furniture became stained with blood. It wouldn't make a good impression on their guest. Initially, they had been tasked with repurposing the spare room in their home for a temporary guest, who they doubted even the company knew all the details about. This prediction was confirmed later when they were tasked with finding Eli. They needed a job done and had been planning for it since day one. It was only now that they decided on the person that would be involved with the boys for this.

“Shut up.” It was short, simple and to the point. 

He would've elaborated if it weren't for the familiar noise of an engine pulling up to the building. Hoseok nodded to Jin as he opened the garage door to allow the delivery truck to go into reverse.. Immediately after, Jin — who had exited at Hoseok’s signal — reversed their own truck into the garage. It was all hands on deck to transfer the boxes over in record time and none of the boys wanted to extend their interactions with civilians.

You remained silent as you watched the time,  bored at the lack of useful information. It took half an hour to transfer everything over and another  half an hour of annoyed glares at the unsuspecting males in the room. Once everything was finalized, you perked up. Finally, there was some action. Realizing that soon they would be leaving to go to the next location, you raised yourself into a crouched position, balancing on the metal bar with the balls of your feet. Keeping your eyes on the figures below, you crept backwards, careful to avoid faults in the metal.

Once you reached the wall, you waited until you heard the roar of the truck’s engine before sliding down a metal pole along the seam of a wall. While Creeping along the sides and staying in the shadows cast by dusty crates, you came close to the truck. Jungkook seemed to be the only one at the back of the truck, going over a final check of all the boxes to make sure none would shift on the ride back.

This was where your plan became slightly more risky. You needed to figure out where the truck was going without the boys finding out about your current location. You didn’t have Eli with you, and there was no way you could risk anything today. Silently berating yourself for not planning for all contingencies, you readied the tracker. Your plan was to place it on the underside of the tire protectors. If you were lucky, they would travel over dirt or mud and that would cover over the circular device for you. Still, Jungkook stood in your way.

From the slight encounter back at the noodle shop, you knew that he was well trained. It would be easy for him to hear the soft hiss of a gun. This model was powered by pressurized air, softer than regular guns so that the internal mechanics of the tracker would not be damaged, but still enough to propel the piece of technology towards the target. The downfall was the inability to use a silencer as there was the risk the disc would catch onto something and the concentrated pressure inside the barrel of the muffler would break the unit.

Your ears picked the familiar sound of an engine starting and — realizing that Jungkook didn’t seem like he was moving anytime soon — you decided to take the shot, hoping that perhaps the engine of the truck would drown out the noise. But you underestimated the acuteness of Jungkook’s hearing.

His head snapped in your direction, and you could have sworn that he made eye contact with you through the small gap in the crates. Still, as much as you would have loved to test that, you didn’t dare look back as you ran towards the other exit where your bike had been hidden away under some canvas.

Your step faltered a little at the sting that radiated from your bicep, and the liquid that got absorbed into your sleeve. You kept running. A graze didn’t mean much in the grand scheme of things. Being captured by them, however, would be worse. You wasted no time in ripping off the pale-colored canvas despite the heaving breaths that pumped your blood faster with each gasp. With the background noise of your own heartbeat and the muffled shouting, you rode off disappearing behind another warehouse.

[JJK]

I think the first coherent I had after hearing the air gun and pulling my semi-automatic would be to just question who was dumb enough to try to shoot at the Bangtan Boys, be it with an air gun or otherwise.

From between the crates, I saw the gleam of white as the lights reflecting in two eyes. Eyes that belonged to body and a body that belonged to a person. I recognized those eyes, wide and helpless for only a second before the turned tail and ran in the other direction. I saw them run; the controlled gait and the light steps that confirmed my suspicions.

She had been trained. Her body was human, but her mind was panther-like. She worked to blend into the background and moved in a way that kept her in the embrace of the shadows.

I wondered if she knew us in the ramen shop. She certainly managed to act like she didn’t. I don’t think Taehyung or Jin hyung noticed anything either. Still, I doubt Tae would remember a girl unless he had slept with her, and even then, it was still a little unstable.

“See you soon doll,” I whispered to the empty space between the boxes. It was a promise. There had to be more to the pretty little foreigner to handed hyung’s ass to him on a silver platter with her big eyes and bratty mouth.

Pocketing his semi-automatic, he let the sound of the motorcycle fade into the distance as he apologized for the sudden chaos. 

“It’s nothing. I thought I saw someone behind the crates,” The bashful look on his handsome face was replaced by the hardened face of an Ultra, “Better to be safe than sorry.”

That'ss how he left his brothers in arms, who glanced at each other before following in his footsteps. They knew better than to ignore his instincts. He may have been the youngest, but the older boys had been told of the training he had gone through. To this day, it rattled their bones when they thought of the horrors that he had faced and compared it with who he was today. It didn’t seem possible to them that their smiling maknae had once been forced to fight off wild animals or survive in a jungle with only a knife. Still, he was a smart boy and by the end of the month, his teacher had found him sitting pretty, sipping from a coconut.

Tucking away the topic of a possible witness, they regrouped in their transport. Immediately, the oldest reached for the glass bottle on the counter of the limo, and poured himself and the others a glass. He didn’t drink often but the adrenaline from the warehouse needed to disappear soon. What better remedy than the numbness of alcohol? None of the other boys shied away from partaking in the amber liquid, each nursing a tumbler as they escaped to their thoughts.

Jungkook’s mind still held the last image he had seen of you, your eyes looking up at Jin, an untamable look in your eyes and a silent challenge that he would have been more than happy to take on. His pink tongue swiped across petal lips as he imagined the many ways he could have tamed your bratiness.

Since the beginning, he had a thing for foreigners. Especially the spiced cider type that never knew when to stop pushing the limits.

He cleared his dry throat and treated it with a large swallow of the liquor in his grasp. He allowed the burn to go to his head as he composed himself. 

“Hey hyung. Any new information about Eli?” This was another issue that had been irking him since the start. This new player that had been better at evading their seven-man team than any other in this goddamn world.

The way Jin finished off his glass in one large gulp was enough to answer his question. Closing his eyes against the warmth in his belly, Jin leaned his head against the leather headrest and threw an arm over his eyes. “Ugh. Don’t even remind me Kookie. Namjoon is on my case about him.”

Taehyung scoffed, “Who the hell is his sponsor?”. 

All of them had agreed long ago, that not only did this mystery thief have the slipperiest fingers this side of the Atlantic, but he had some great connections. How else could he have stayed off their radar for so long? Since that day in the noodle shop, Bangtan had put out feelers both above and below ground for the blonde man. To this day, they had nothing. Zilch on a possible adobe, and nada on any personal information.

Hoseok, still the optimist, let out a loud laugh. “I hope he introduces me to them some day.” 

In his head, gears were already turning about the possible benefits of a sponsor that could successfully evade both them, but even more importantly, BigHit.

“I’m more interested in that girl,” Jimin grinned at the image he had concocted based on Taehyung’s recollection, “You said she had an attitude?” Taehyung solemnly nodded as Jungkook elaborated.

 “Even more than you do hyung.” 

The atmosphere was permeated with the laughs of the other boys, while the accused pouted.

Taehyung calmed down before allowing everyone’s thoughts to taint the air. “But she would have been fun to break. I wonder how feisty she can get when she's begging for it.” 

Even Hoseok had to hold in a groan. He had never thought of you much since that day at the mall, but based on what the trio had recounted of your encounter with Jin, he understood that you were not the type to bow to anyone. Even if they were the one with more leverage.

“Can you all just shut up? I said I didn’t want to talk about it.” 

By this time, Jin had recovered from the long drought of liquor he had taken and took to glaring at the younger boys for discussing his failure at a mission. Since day one, Namjoon had placed this mostly on his hyung's shoulders as he sorted out the new leadership of BigHit. And what does he have to show? Nothing more than an empty folder and a verbal battle with a girl too confident to give him the time of day.

[benkouji726]

Five times Alex surprised Forrest and one time he didn’t

Fourth Chapter! I can't believe it!

This chapter is all about Buffy. It took me longer because writing pet-human dynamic is just sooooo hard.

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Sometimes Forrest thought he should just rename Buffy Long to Buffy Manes and call it a day. Other times he was convinced that Alex only stuck around for the dog. He hadn’t know it was possible to feel jealous for both parties while simultaneously feeling love towards them when he saw two people (in this case a person and a dog) together, but Alex had stirred up so many raw and new feelings in him that it really shouldn’t come as a surprise.

So there he was, stood in his doorway, coming home from an exhausting work meeting, and was entirely engulfed in this swamp of feelings in his chest he almost stopped breathing for a minute.

Alex, wearing a white sweater and some yoga pants that seemed to be made of the softest material in the whole world, hair a mess, face relaxed and lying down on his stomach; half under Alex’s body, being held loosely but securely by his right arm, was a soft snoring Buffy.

They were not even lying together on the sofa, but at the foot of the sofa, on the floor, Buffy’s favorite chew toy next to them. Like they had played together for a really long time, both so happy they hadn’t wanted to stop, until they were too tired to even get on the sofa, they had to just lie down right there and fall to sleep, while cuddling.

And to think: Alex never wanted to sleep anywhere other than in the bed because the bed would be nicer to his leg; and Buffy never wanted to sleep next to anyone other than Forrest because she was a PRINCESS like that.

Safe to say it was the most beautiful thing Forrest had ever seen in his whole life.

——————————

More often than not, Forrest woke up to some (one-sided) conversation like this one.

“No, Buffy, you can’t eat that.”

“Don’t give that look, girl. You know I’m just looking out for you. You need healthier diet.”

Forrest smiled. Alex was so gonna lose that battle, again.

“Stop it. I know it always works on your papa, but it’s not gonna work on me.”

Well that’s a lie.

A fond sigh.

“OK, you win. But you have to walk with me a LOT longer today if we’re gonna burn all the extra calories. And this is non-negotiable.”

Yeah, bring out the captain voice. It would do absolutely nothing to the dog except maybe receiving some halfhearted tail wiggling.

And also getting Forrest hot and bothered.

He walked out to the kitchen, stood behind Alex, threw a glance over his shoulder to Buffy, and yep, she was happily eating her treats and totally ignoring Alex’s pretend glares. He hid his smile in between Alex’s shoulder blades, hands reaching around to sneak under his shirt so he could roam his bare stomach, and said in a husky voice:

“Stop fat-shaming my dog and come back to bed. She’s already gotten her treats. Now it’s my turn.”

Alex turned around in his embrace, pulled him even closer so they were only a breath away and looking into each other’s eyes. Then, and only then he rolled his eyes, deliberately and dramatically, he even shook his head a little for extra effect: “Her puppy eyes, your cheeky lines. You both only have ONE move. It’s getting old real fast.”

Well, since Buffy and he both got their treats even before breakfast, he’d have to respectfully disagree.

———————————

One time he walked in on them, snuggled up in bed, and Alex was telling her about his Lizard while SHOWING HER SOME PICTURES too.

“I think you and Willow would have made great friends.” He said, a little wistful, but mostly happy, smile evident in his voice.

Buffy made a low grunting sound in her throat as if she agreed.

———————————

They went to the fair thing regularly now, like some old couple. Forrest secretly liked it. But the catch was, whenever they went there, Alex ended up buying Buffy way too many toys, clothes or little hats. It was getting ridiculous.

“Alex, this is like, the third chew bone in this month alone. She really doesn’t need it.” Forrest whined, knowing perfectly well he was fighting a losing battle.

To his surprise though, Alex dropped the bone (Buffy turned to Forrest to give him the stink eye but he ignored her like a champ), and picked a fluffy teddy instead, which, ok, slightly better, but SO NOT THE POINT.

But Alex showed it to Buffy, she gave a happy wiggling, and next thing he knew, Alex was already paying for it.

Forrest shook his head. “You don’t ever get to say I’m spoiling her again. You are like, the most doting dad ever.”

They both froze at that.

Then Alex looked down at Buffy, smiled softly, and said, “I just like seeing her happy”. He looked up again, still all soft, reached out and held Forrest’s hand. “If that makes me a doting dad, so be it.”

—————————

He changed his screensaver on his phone to a picture of Buffy hugging the teddy that night.

—————————

Alex’s ex (the ex from his military days, not the one still didn’t show up in Forrest’s presence) came to Roswell one day, he called Alex, so the three of them were having a slightly uncomfortable but overall pleasant get-together.

The ex (Bill or something) was charming, funny and friendly. He obviously didn’t hang up on Alex like some other ex so that was a plus, but he sometimes still had heat in his eyes when Alex was smiling beautifully so Forrest decided to dislike him just in principle.

The dislike quickly turned to annoyance when Bill (or something) brought up his dog.

“By the way, Charlie whined when I told him I was gonna see you and I couldn’t bring him along. I guess he still misses you.”

Alex smiled politely, “I miss him too.”

“Please”, the ex snorted, “You never really warmed up to him. You were nice to him, sure, he loved you for it. But you were just not that fond of him. I always assume maybe you’re not a dog person or something.”

OK so the ex was apparently a clueless douche. Alex was the definition of a dog person in Forrest’s opinion. He opened his mouth to just say that when a hand on his knee squeezed to stop him.

“Yeah, maybe.” Alex replied, polite smile firmly in place.

The topic didn’t come up again until B-something left.

“So you wanna explain yourself, Mr Clearly-You-Are-A-Dog-Person?”

Alex rolled his eyes. “Can’t you just accept that Buffy is an exception to my not-loving-dogs rule?”

Forrest pretended to consider for a second.

“Though it is a fact that Buffy is the cutest girl on earth and she can pretty much win anybody over, I know it’s not the case. So spill. Was Charlie like, secretly hating you but pretended to like you in front of his dad?”

Alex choked on his milkshake. “What terrible world do you live in? With this level of dog conspiracy?”

It was a deflecting move if he’d ever seen one. So he just waited.

After a minute, Alex caved.

“It was not Charlie. It was Blake.” OK, not Bill then.

“Me and Blake, we had this on and off relationship. At first it was just some fun, blowing off steam, some actions in the shadow, that kind of things. But it got somewhat more serious as the time passed. He was local based, so when we had leaves, we would sometimes go to his house to spend time together.”

“Charlie was usually with his sister, but Blake would bring him home during his leaves. So whenever I spent time there, Charlie was always with us.”

He paused, a fond smile for the dog, and continued, “He liked me instantly, and I liked him too. Like you said, I am a dog person, I like dogs, dogs like me.”

Forrest was confused. “So why...?”

Alex sighed. “I liked Charlie, but I couldn’t let myself get attached to him. Because I didn’t see myself stay in the relationship with Blake for a long time. So if I got too attached, and the breakup inevitably happened, it would be too hard for me to handle.”

OK, that was understandable. But meanwhile, that would mean...

The realization hit Forrest like a train he was totally dumbstruck.

Alex seemed to sense his surprise, and blushed. But he didn’t stop talking.

“I opened myself completely to Buffy, because I feel completely safe and steady when I’m with you. I don’t worry about losing her, because I don’t worry about losing you.”

Forrest swallowed around the sudden lump in his throat, kissed Alex, and touched their forehead together.

“Do you think we should just rename her to Buffy Long-Manes?”

Alex laughed. “That is such a terrible name.”

He kissed back. “But I like it.”

[ralfstrashcan]

Fire Messages

A (long long long, let's not talk about it) while ago the dear @toughpaperround​ asked me about my thoughts on fire messages... and here they finally are.

Like most things in Shadowhunters fire messages come in two styles (other examples are portals, swords and runes) because at some point they experienced a random visual makeover. Both designs raise different questions and I'll get to those in a moment. First though it's interesting to note that the appearance of a fire message doesn't seem to depend on whether it's created by a shadowhunter or a warlock. On that note, are other downworlders able to create fire messages as well? Since shadowhunters operate them with their steles and warlocks with magic? I guess seelies should be able to as well since they also have magic (though they seem to prefere their nature-birds-leaves-whispering-on-the-wind way of communication). But what about vampires and werewolves? I don't recall either of thoses species ever sending a fire message on-screen, though it might have been mentioned at some point that one of them did, and I forgot. In any case I find it intriguing/ridiculous that fire messages look the same regardless of who creates them. Angelic energy and demonic magic don't really operate in similar ways so why would their fire messages look alike? Distinctive appearances like with the portals would make more sense.

Moving on to the first style! As far as I remember this style can only be spied once in the series, namely at the end of 1x06 when Izzy breaks things off with Meliorn

Which, now that I'm thinking about it, isn't that the shadow world equivalent of breaking up via text? Rude, Izzy. Anyway! The rune she draws at the bottom of the paper

is, as the trained eye immediately sees

Next, the paper goes up in flames

and Izzy lets go of it so she doesn't burn her fingers. Not a trace of the paper is left afterwards.

I think it's pretty safe to assume that the fire message burns into existence in midair wherever Meliorn is at this moment in time. Which... is probably the seelie realm? So can fire messages just travel between realms no big deal? Imagine the possibilities! Asmodeus could be bothering Magnus all day! Lilith could be terrorizing all Clave members via fire message harassment! This is hilarious XD

I have questions though! 1) How does the fire message know a) who the recipient is and b) where the recipient is? Canon never addresses or indicates either of those things so there's literally nothing to go off of. Re a): To me it seems most reasonable that the sender focuses on the person they want the message to receive while sending the message off via rune or magic. It's unlikely that writing the name on the paper alone determines the recipient because i) there exist people who share names and ii) you couldn't mention anyone in your fire message without accidentally cc-ing them, which, impractical and awkward. So intent seems the most plausible thing. Which in turn begs the question if you can mass-message people if you think of more than one person while sending? Probably not. In canon Magnus messages each warlock individually about that ritual he wants to try in 3x09. Might have been for courtesy's sake, so he can address every warlock individually with name but seems unlikely since he was under time pressure. Aside from that this would imply miraculous paper replication and physics says no. Re b): No way. This makes no sense whatsoever except when fire message magic is the ultimate omniscient might that can track anyone anytime anywhere. And if that power really existed in the world then how come no one has used it to currupt everything? Surely if you can access this pool of knowledge to send innocent little breakup messages you could find a way to use it for grand evil as well? I find it hard to believe that no one's tried and succeeded so far. Just look at how much effort shadowhunters put into tracking people all the time! They'd be stupid to waste their resources like that if there was a way to instantly-know the whereabouts of someone. Anyway, this is utter bs and just like the hp owls all over again and I simply refuse.

2) Who can you send fire messages to? My knee-jerk answer would be to anyone you know, both personally and more generally in the sense that you are aware of their existence. You focus on them while sending the message, bam, they get it. But. Spam. Spam is a thing. Do you have any idea how much hate mail and general pranks higher-ups would get if they could be (anonymously!) addressed by anyone? Magnus probably had a whole phase where he did nothing but trashtalk shadowhunters who pissed him off XD I read in this post (which is the one toughpaperround sent my way and which I'm kinda answering with this) the possibility that you can only fire message people you've either met in real life before or who you've established some kind of fire-messaging-you-is-okay-connection – kinda like exchanging phone numbers. Everyone has a phone but you can only call someone whose number you have. You can even hand-wave your way through issue b) and claim that the fire message tracks the recipient through that connection and that's how it can find them no matter where they are. I've thought about it for a while and while I think this is the most logical explanation I don't think it makes sense in-universe for how fire messages are used, or for what the purpose of a fire messages really is. Phones are inarguably more practical because you don't need an extra pen and paper to send off a message. So, why would someone use a fire message instead of a phone? Well, either the person you want to reach doesn't have a phone (*cough* Meliorn *cough*) or the message is so important and time-sensitive that you need the other person to know right now and while you can ignore a text or a call, you can lose your phone or it can die, it's kinda difficult to miss a burning piece of paper flying in your face. Fire messages are like extreme emergency phone calls. And for those it would be high-key impractical if you could only send them to someone you have already met previously. (Of course this is just speculation and doesn't even make sense historically since fire messages were around long before phones and likely were the only means of communication then and not just reserved for emergencies (or maybe they were since paper and ink was precious back then?!). And of course determining the nature of a thing by going 'It would be most practical if it was like this' is highly unscientific. Anyway.) Honestly, my personal take on this is still that you can send a fire message to anyone and the show simply ignoring everything that this implies (aka Alec getting at least 10 lewd fire messages per day from secret admirers) because it wasn't relevant to the plot.

Leaving behind questions that apply to fire messages generally this last one is design-specific. 3) To what exactly is the teleportation, that clearly happens here, limited? The paper, the ink. Uh-huh. What if you glue something to the paper? For example, idk, a GPS tracker? Would that allow you to learn the location of the person you messaged? Probably not, or they would have been very stupid not to do that with Valentine. Even if you could only message someone you have met in person and/or established a special fire message connection with there are still enough Circle members around in S1 who surely had his fire message phone number. (Or did he destroy the connection? Can you fire-message-block someone you no longer want any attachments to?) What happens if you fire message someone who's dead? Does the fire message hover over their grave for the rest of eternity? We'll never know. I'll allow that there is special fire message paper and special fire message ink that can teleport. Anything else tacked on would be left behind. Paper and ink could even be extra-charmed so they can pass through dimensions or whatever. Still sounds fake – because i) how would you spell paper so it can pass any ward (Magnus at some point messages Jem who's probably chilling in the Silent City or something) and ii) if there's a way to charm paper and ink so it can be teleported, why limit yourself to those? Why not put that same magic on your GPS tracker and you're ready to go? – but I tried okay. Whatever, special fire message paper and ink grow on special trees in Idris and their special teleportation magic can't be replicated. There, mystery solved.

The second style fire messages acquire is both more and less logically pleasing. It's more logically pleasing because it eliminates the whole teleportation issue since apparently the fire message just flies from sender to recipient but sadly this creates its own set of issues, first of all how tf does the fire message fly from sender to recipient? Does it have eyes? How does it navigate the streets by itself? What about the secrecy the shadow world allegedly tries to uphold? It also doesn't solve the GPS tracker problem (if anything it makes it worse) because who's stopping you from sending a nice little message to Valentine and then just, following the flying message to his secret hideout?

The journey itself isn't unproblematic either. How quick are those things flying? In 3x06 exactly 54 seconds pass between Magnus sending off his message to Jem and receiving an answer. So in less than a minute the message flew to Jem, he read it, he composed an answer, and it made the way back. No wonder these messages are burning at the edges if they're so quick. (Yes, that was sarcastic.) They also don't seem to slow down when approaching their intended target. Magnus even pushes Clary out of the way because of it.

This is so confusing. So the fire message can navigate through Magnus's apartment no problem but it would have chopped Clary's head off because she was in the way? Was Magnus just being dramatic? I mean I'd totally buy that on any given day, but the situation was a bit too serious for that especially because it isn't treated as a joke to lighten the mood but just like Magnus casually pulling Clary out of danger because that's what he always does. It makes no sense whatsoever. This also begs another question, since fire messages seem to seek out their target quite vehemently. If you're locked in an air-tight room, could you send a fire message to someone, and the fire message on its pursuit to fulfill its duty could help you create a crack in the walls? Could you actually break out via fire message? What if you grab the paper real tight? Could you fly out of a canyon on a fire message? Now, on to the last part of the fire message's journey: the landing. How. How do you catch something that moves so quickly instead of just swatting it away? In the post I mentioned before someone wrote that catching stuff like that works on auto pilot if you have the practice and I'll just take your word for it... but what if you don't have the practice? Personally I'm shit at catching shit. I'd get smacked in the face by 95% of the fire messages sent my way. And considering the speed and the sharp edges of the fire messages that can't be healthy. My poor face. Why do I say the fire message would slap my face and not docilely settle into my palm? Because that's what I honestly believe. I think if you fail to catch a fire message it just flops in your face and sticks there (that should also wake you up if you're asleep, lol) because I mean, look at those trajectories.

Mind that the fire message stays on its initial course even after Magnus / Alec / Izzy moves their hand to a position to catch it. That’s because it wasn't aiming for the hand. It was aiming for the face.

It only gets weirder from here on out.

Remember 3x07? Imogen gets stabbed by Possessed!Jace and uses her last moments to notify Alec of Jace's whereabouts (instead of, y'know, activating her healing rune which takes two seconds, sending the message after and keep on living. SIGH). Fair enough, but the thing is this

Where's the paper? Where's the ink?

What is happening? What is she doing there?!

And then-- and then--

Yeah Alec, I'm as shocked as you are. Where tf did that paper (and presumably ink for writing) come from?! Can shadowhunters suddenly create matter from nothing?? Physics is crying in the corner!! I have so many questions!!

[retrogeekgal]

Repeating Mistakes

Summary: John Constantine shows up at your door after breaking your heart two years ago. Needing help from someone he trusts, he can only turn to you. But like everything with him, the truth isn't black and white. And the secrets John's keeping from you this time, may cost you your life.

Word Count: 2.7k

John Constantine x Reader

Notes: Hello everyone! This is my first posted work, so please be kind!

This fic has all the tropes- hurt/comfort, dramatic confessions of love, possessive!John, protective!John, sassy!reader-- If you can think of it, I've probably got it here.

Please leave me all the notes and comments :)

I've read some comics but this is based off of Matt Ryan's incredible portrayal of our favorite chain smoking, hard-drinking British wise ass on Constantine and Legends of Tomorrow.

Enjoy!

Repeating Mistakes (archive of our own)

Chapter One.

The dense humidity makes your thick hair curl at the ends as you step in from the outside and take in the lavishly decorated lobby. For last minute accommodations, this hotel is excellent.

A kind doorman waits to greet you, readily assisting you with your bags. Your tired eyes scan the attached restaurant and are more than pleased to see a fully stocked twenty-four hour bar just steps from the entrance. You could happily make yourself at home here for some time once your work is finished.

Making your way down the long hallway to your room for the next few days, your thoughts drift to the events that led up to arriving here. After a particularly grueling possession in the midwest, you were looking forward to taking a few days to relax and recharge.

With your key in the door, the call came through about a cursed mirror in a plantation just outside of New Orleans. The client was wealthy too, wealthy enough to double your rate if you left straight away. Despite your exhaustion, you couldn't resist.

******************

“Ghosts bring in the money down here,'' the owner, William Moss, had drawled over the phone. “Tourists want to get spooked when they visit the old south, but this is different. Doors are slamming, we hear whispers when there ain't no one else around and the room freezes during the warmest parts of the day. It wasn’t like this before we found that mirror buried on the property. I figured it must've been two hundred years old, at least. A real antique to draw in the history buffs.

"It's got some bad juju and I, well I was told" he had hesitated slightly- you remembered that clearly, “you were just the talented young lady for the job. I was informed of the great love you have for New Orleans and its culture and your reputation clearly precedes you. You came highly recommended.”

For a moment you had thought to ask who’d given you the glowing recommendation, your suspicion ate at you, but the tone in his voice said you ought to put it aside. The more information he gave you, the more you knew these were the right things to say to get your attention. And so, as soon as your full cost was deposited into your account, you had booked a flight and were on your way to the Big Easy.

*******************

You made ghost stories and cursed objects your business, and business was booming. You had once worked alongside the greatest master of the dark arts in existence, and while he had viciously broken your heart, John Constantine had taught you well.

Thanks to his tutelage, your name was well known in the occult circles as a talented mage and dark object specialist. After your time with him, you had become skilled in both light and dark magic and had exorcized more than your fair share of things that went bump in the night. So being told you were highly recommended wasn’t an odd thing. Any hesitation to tell you who recommended you, was.

Pressing your keycard to the door, you absentmindedly touch the necklace you always wear and wonder for the second time in as many days if John was the reason you're here right now; he knew how you felt about New Orleans. The magical reserves that ran throughout the city were alluring to anyone who practiced the mystic arts.

You and John had spent many nights wandering the streets of the French Quarter, feeling the power flowing through the ancient city center. Even if everything here reminded you of your biggest mistake, it felt good to be back.

You found your suspicions running through your thoughts again. This case was a milk run for you, all the pieces fell into place too easily. All but one; John had made it very clear that he never wished to see you again; the idea of this being his doing after so long made your mind run in circles. It just wouldn’t make sense, but then, John didn’t always make sense. You’d made every attempt to convince yourself this was coincidence, pushing him from your mind as you have for so long.

Your charm and skill helped to secure work in an industry that couldn’t exactly advertise, thus you typically weren’t between jobs for very long, you knew these were facts. Perhaps you only thought it was him because of the flooding memories that came along with this city. You could have said no if you really wanted to, but you couldn't pass up the chance to visit your favorite place once again, even if this did smell like John's handiwork.

Ceasing all thoughts of the british bastard, you drop your bags and crash tiredly onto the pillow top mattress in your room. You lay there for just a moment and enjoy the cloud-like softness of the bedding. Taking a deep breath, you roll onto one side, propping your head up on your arm. Your rumbling stomach reminds you that food is necessary to live and you’ve consumed none. The humidity from outside still clings to you like a second skin so a shower is also on the menu. With a groan, you push yourself up the rest of the way. You reach for the phone and order a burger along with two bottles of local beer. Happily, you charge it to your room and gather your things to take a shower while waiting.

The elegance of the marble bathroom pleases you as flip the lights and survey the room.. A large whirlpool tub sits in the center of the room with an ornate glass shower to the left and a separate door to the right. You turn on the hot water to let the steam fill the room while you shrug off your clothes. The water soothes your tired body and while you wash off the grime of the day, you lean against the wet tiles to savor the relaxation of the moment.

Eventually you feel the hot water start to cool and figure your food should be arriving at any minute. After decidedly turning off the water, you reach for a fluffy, white towel and begin to methodically dry yourself off. As you step out of the bathroom, wrapped in a lovely plush robe, you hear footsteps and three sharp knocks. Right on time. Without another thought, you unlatch the door and throw it open.

Leaning against your doorframe, half cloaked in shadow, is a shock of messy blonde hair attached to a lanky male figure. The strong scent of cigarette smoke assaults you before you have a chance to drag your gaze up and meet coffee colored eyes that give you no hint of his intentions.

“Hello darling, I was hoping we could have a chat.”

It takes you a second longer than you know it should to fully process that the man who left you crying in a London airport two years ago, with nothing but a silly piece of jewelry and a broken heart is now leaning only a few inches from where you stand. Clad only in your hotel robe and rising anger, you realize that you should have known there’s no such things as coincidences.

Without waiting for permission, John Constantine pushes past you into the room and you slam the door behind him. Words fall out of your mouth before you have time to fully process them.

“Excuse me! You can’t just- ” His leisurely presence frustrates you further, causing you trip over what you're trying to say. The bastard is entirely too relaxed given what's happened between you. You attempt to take a steadying breath before unclenching your jaw and trying again. “Constantine, what are you doing here?”

John narrows his eyes slightly at the formality of his last name but wisely says nothing about it. Instead, he lowers his hands in a placating gesture and takes a step toward you.

"You have every right to want to kick me out the bloody door but I’m hoping to appeal to your sense of decency. I need a favor and believe it or not, you’re the only one I trust.”

You sharply exhale in disbelief but John continues, undeterred.

"I know what I said to you." He says slowly. "I know how bloody awful it all was. I had my reasons, but believe me luv, I wouldn’t be here right now if there was any other way. I know what it did to you when--”

You cut him off, quick and angry, before the logical side of your brain can reign you in. "When you left? You have no idea what it did to me!"

“I know, I'm… listen” he says, his voice low and determined. “I have a chance, a small one, to break into hell. There's just a few missing pieces. I had to hope that you’d hear me out to start and that with any luck, you kept that necklace I gave you.” He looks at you with mild incredulity once he sees it and flashes a crooked smile that you’re frustrated to find still makes you swoon.

You look at him for a moment, mindlessly your hand moves to touch the small pearlescent stone sitting between your collarbones. “Yes, I kept it.” your voice soft, barely above a whisper. You thoughts are swirling. Did he think you would have thrown it away? So many times you thought that you should have but every time you hovered the necklace above the trash, you just couldn't. You hated that you couldn’t. Why couldn’t you throw away a stupid piece of jewelry when he so easily threw you away?

"Sweetheart, if I could just,” his pause is all the incentive you need to cut in, this time your voice is more controlled than before but barely restraining the anger you feel.

“No. It's been two years. Two goddamn years Constantine.”

“John.” He says softly, leaning against an armchair, hands shoved in his pockets. “Come on, luv. It’s John. Don’t be like that, don’t be so cold ay?”

“Are you serious?” You scoff, folding your arms defensively against your chest. Memories of the last time you were with him surge forward unbidden, from the safe you’ve locked them away in and damn it, you can feel your eyes prick with tears at the edges. This is not happening. In the countless scenarios you’d thought of in the months following John leaving you, this was not how your fantasies of confrontation had gone.

"You broke my heart and didn't give a damn about it! Two years, John! For two years I've tried to push the thought of you out of my head because every time I couldn't, it'd break all over again! I hated you for what you did to me in that airport. HATED YOU. I hated you and I hated myself for still hoping you'd come back to me. God. John, I stopped hoping. I had to, but here you are, and what did you expect? I'd forget it all? That's not fair. You can't just... come back."

John casts his eyes away from you but says nothing. It seems you struck a nerve. Good.

“So yeah,” you laugh, “I get to be as cold as I damn well please. In fact, you’re lucky I haven’t hexed your ass yet. You know I damn well could.”

John folds his arms across his chest, defense mechanism mirroring yours. "I do, but I’m trusting that you won’t. You're a better person than I am, always have been.”

The intensity you find when you meet his dark eyes has an uncomfortable vulnerability but you refuse to turn away. “Just hear me out luv, and if after I’m done you still want to throw a curse at me? Fine. I deserve worse.”

John focuses on your face then and you feel shaken by what he's just said. When he speaks again, his voice is low and thick with an emotion you can't place. “You might think I’m an absolute bastard for what happened between us, but there are things out there that want to destroy me daily, and the people I care about tend to wind up dead or worse because of it. What do you think I would have done...” he stops and holds out a hand to you. It takes every ounce of your self control not to cross the few feet between you and take it. He slowly closes it and withdraws.

“You know the life I lead, you knew all the rubbish when you asked and I agreed to teach you.” The Brit laughs bitterly and drags that hand across his face. “ I prefer to walk this path alone and with good reason. I am sorry that I hurt you but I’m bloody well not apologizing for my reasons. If you’re going to hate me, hate me, but at least you’re still breathing.”

A brief knock at the door completely derails your shock and confusion at his words and you tear your eyes from his, remembering the food you ordered. "Shit. Room service. I’m not hungry anymore but it’s paid for so…”

After a moment, John strides to the door and opens it; his previous uncertainty replaced with a cocky grin. “Ello squire,” you hear him say as you grab clothes and head back into the bathroom.

****************

Your mind is racing as you slip a fitted tee over your head and pull on your jeans. One thing runs through your head over and over. What do you think I would’ve done? John didn’t often let words that hadn’t meant to be said out loud slip, but this time, you believed, he did. The thought of him reciprocating feelings, still, as he once had made your heart palpitate and left your stomach in knots. You couldn’t get your hopes up, you couldn’t think that way… but it was so hard not to.

Your hands are shaking slightly as you zip up your boots and you mentally curse yourself for letting him get under your skin like this, again. You knew you’d run into John eventually. This was a small line of work. You were both known in the same circles and had many of the same contacts. But you told yourself that when the day finally arrived and you crossed paths with him, you’d be prepared. Your abilities continued to grow without him and you’d have no problem showing John that his absence had had zero effect on your life.

But you weren’t. You weren’t prepared at all, not for this. This was an uneven footing on already rocky ground. Feelings you thought long buried were clawing their way to the surface faster than you could stop them. So much for moving on.

You want to be furious with John. Furious that he has the audacity to show his face here and ask for your help. Furious that there was obviously a bigger reason that he sent you away and he hadn’t trusted that you could handle it and furious that he thought that an explanation so simple was enough.

Yet you aren’t. You’re furious with yourself. Furious that after you had gotten over your initial shock, you were relieved to see John was safe and whole. Furious that he still had the power to disarm you with that crooked smile and make your heart skip when he said your name. Worst of all, you realize, you’re furious that you still love him. And in the end, you know that despite what he put you through- no matter what it is that John needs or what it will inevitably cost you, you're going to help him.

[the-quiet-winds]

Beyond the Dragon’s Eyes (part four)

[A great evil is revealed]

[part one] - [part two] - [part three]

[Part 4: The Bite of the Basilisk]

“Do you think she means-”

“She absolutely does.”

“How is that possible?” Anne demands. “Henry I’d understand in a situation like this, but bloody Cromwell?”

“You’d understand Henry coming back?” Katherine squeaks.

“No, that’s not-,” Anne sighs and rubs her forehead. “Cromwell must have come back too.”

“Why would he burn down the theater?” Maggie asks. “Do you think it’s him and Henry?”

“Cromwell would be more than willing and capable of doing it on his own,” Aragon tells her.

“Guys.”

They all turn to Anne, holding her phone, slightly paled. 

“What is it?”

Anne turns her phone so they can see the message on the screen. There’s no number attached, all the contact saying is, “Unknown.”

‘Come outside, Mistress Boleyn. We have some catching up to do, don’t you think?’

“No way,” Maggie says immediately. “You’re not going out there alone.”

“I have to,” Anne tells her, backing towards the door.

“Anne Boleyn you stop right there.”

Aragon looks darker, more severe than ever before. Her eyes smolder with the remains of the theater, her lips curled into a scowl, dripping half with anger and half with concern. “Don’t take another damn step towards that door.”

For her part, Anne does stop. Briefly. “I have to.”

“You can’t go alone,” Catherine says. “I’m going with you.”

“No,” Anne immediately protests. “I won’t let you.”

“He’s dangerous, Anne. You know what he did to us in the last life, and now he’s nearly killed Maria and might yet kill Jane.” Catherine pretends to ignore Kat’s tiny whimper behind her.

“Exactly, he’s dangerous. I can’t risk you getting hurt.”

“Aw, you care,” Catherine teases, then sobers again. “We do this together. He’s hurt us both, in the past and now, so we should do this together.”

Anne sighs. “I’m not winning this one am I?”

“Not a chance.”

“Let’s go.”

Aragon follows, then pauses. She takes Cathy, Bessie, and Anna aside with the simple, soft instructions of, “take care of them.”

She and Anne leave for the parking lot a moment later.

There’s a man standing by the elevators, unsurprisingly. Thomas has a black button-up shirt and dark pants on, nearly letting him disguise in the shadows, and is casually leaning up against the wall.

“Well,” he remarks as they approach, “if it isn’t not one, but two of my least favorite women.”

“What do you want, Cromwell?”

“I’ve missed that Boleyn charm,” he drawls. Thomas stands up straighter and steps closer. “I want to make you both pay.”

“As if that weren’t obvious,” Catherine mutters.

Cromwell ignores her. “You betrayed me, Anne,” he says, dark and hushed. “If you hadn’t failed the King, we both could have kept our heads.”

“What-”

Catherine is once again interrupted. “You took too many risks, Anne. The adultery certainly didn’t help your case, but you let the king fall into the hands of the Seymour wench.”

“Don’t you talk about her that way.”

Catherine’s appalled statement and Anne’s quickly angering expression goes unnoticed, or more likely ignored. “She died, I tried to get His Majesty to marry a German and… well, my head rolled too.”

“It’s what you deserved,” Catherine sneers.

“Why are you here?” Anne can’t help but ask.

“I have to avenge His Majesty.”

“You can stop saying that,” Aragon drawls, “he’s not king anymore. He’s as dead as we all were.”

“I’m loyal to my king,” Cromwell says, mockingly bowing. He laughs. “Something neither of you could ever understand.”

“Why you-”

Anne grabs Catherine’s hand. “So you set the theater on fire… because you think it’s justice for Henry?”

“You all are smearing his name and pretending that none of you did a single thing wrong, when we all know that is far from true.”

Anne and Catherine are so utterly shocked by Cromwell’s words, they don’t fully know how to respond. 

“But… it’s me you hate,” Anne says, “so why do it when I wasn’t there?”

Cromwell chuckles, nearly sending shivers down both of their backs. “Unfortunately, it didn’t quite go as I hoped it would. I was supposed to be able to lock you all inside, but the falling set pieces got you all out quicker than I anticipated.”

“So you-”

“I was going to burn all your friends alive,” he comments casually as if pointing out a change in the weather, “and leave you alone.”

The blood drains from Anne’s face, and she reaches for Catherine’s hand to keep her upright. 

“When I realized I couldn’t lock the door, I was stuck,” he admits, “but then your little friend,” he points to Catherine, “got herself stuck, and I figured I could at least get the woman who set up my greatest failure.”

“You wanted to kill Jane.”

“Still do, if we’re being honest. I’m surprised you don’t.” He smirks, the devil reflecting off his teeth. “The Anne Boleyn I knew would leap at the first chance to get back at someone who wronged her.”

“I’m not that woman anymore,” Anne tells him. She holds up her and Catherine’s conjoined hands. “We all forgave each other. We’re family now.”

Cromwell scoffs. “You know nothing of family, Anne Boleyn. You never have.”

“That’s not true,” Anne says. 

“You had sex with your own brother,” Cromwell deadpans. “If that doesn’t scream dysfunctional, then I don’t know what does.”

“I did not have sex with him,” Anne hisses.

“Right.”

Anne’s face is contorted in frustration and shame as she asks, “why did you call us here?” 

“Isn’t it obvious? I wanted to see this,” he gestures to the tears welling in her eyes her upset expression. “I wanted to see the mighty Anne Boleyn realize that she’s been destroyed.”

“I haven’t-”

“If that’s all,” Catherine cuts in, “we really should be going. We have to go check on the rest of our family.”

“They aren’t your family,” Cromwell points out lazily, but nods. “Go ahead. See if she lives. I’ll be sure to see the looks on your faces when she doesn’t.”

Anne wants to protest. Frankly, she wants to punch his stupid, smug face, but Catherine is pulling her away.

As soon as they’re inside of the hospital again, the strong facade Anne had struggled to keep up during the whole encounter finally, and completely, slips off. 

She falls forward into Catherine’s arms, clinging for dear life, sobbing into her shoulder.

“It’s not your fault,” Catheirne tries to assure her. Very gently, she strokes Anne’s hair which tumbles down her back. “It’s not your fault.”

“But-”

“No.” Catherine hugs her tighter. “It’s not your fault.”

Anne is silent, other than the occasional gasped sob or tiny hiccup. “It’s not your fault.” Catherine reaches back and touches the phone in her back pocket. 

“And don’t worry, I have a plan.”

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

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[mugen-monogatari]

The Shadowed World Of Monogatari - Narration [Part 2]

For those of you that haven’t read the first post, I suggest you go do that since this is a direct continuation of that. You can find it Here.

To summarize, I talked about how the world of Monogatari feels incredibly empty and lonely at times, with many scenes being devoid of literal life. I attributed this to Koyomi’s ignorance of the world around him, and how his personality meant he no longer pays attention to the world around him. If you tell yourself you can’t see something, eventually you’ll start believing it. If you stop looking at people, those people will eventually disappear from your sight. 

Here and there in the post, I mentioned that while initially it seems like this is just an artistic choice, characters such as Kanbaru and Nadeko show this isn’t the case, with a sudden change in how the world is shown through their eyes in each of their respective arcs. Why is that? Why do we go from an empty world to a shadowed world to the colored world? Let’s talk about it.

For this instance, I’ll be talking about Nadeko. Sengoku Nadeko is scared of people. She’s a timid girl, shy and quiet. She hides like a snake, coiled in the grass in an attempt to avoid confrontation. Throughout her arc she constantly victimizes herself, using her cute looks to avoid any danger or real sense of responsibility. Other characters comment on this, mentioning that she’s constantly using her charm to avoid the reality, as well as being able to avoid any and all confrontation. One of her defining traits it;

She’s always looking at the ground, hiding her face in her bangs. 

You’re probably asking at this point; “But Saki, how does that affect the world design and the characters within it?!” Well, for this I’m going to reference another series. A lot of you have probably Watched, some of you read “A Silent Voice”, It’s a fantastic series that everyone should go at least watch. Within the series, the main Character struggles to look people in the eye, many of the shots in the film are framed so you can only see the legs. When he does look up, a large X is plastered across people’s faces, signifying they can’t be trusted. (This is an incredibly simplified breakdown of it, please go watch that movie, or read it. It’s top tier).

Sengoku Nadeko is almost the exact same. Within Otorimonogatari, one of the first things we notice, is that there are people in this arc. Wild, I know. Nadeko first sees her Teacher, who we can only really make out from the neck down. His upper torso and head are shaded, much like the crosses from “A Silent Voice”. Nadeko can not see his upper half, as she is too scared to directly look at him. She cowers away in fear, she hides behind her bangs and looks down. This is the first signs of her serious social anxiety. She can’t even look someone in the eye, instantly wanting to flee when confronted about something.

But it doesn’t stop there. She later enters her classroom to another out of place scene for the series. There are people in there, a normal class-full, contrary to Koyomi’s constantly empty classrooms and halls. She can see these people, but- with the caveat that they’re all silhouettes, with strange colored rings floating within each of them. Which is even more of a tone shift, since she could almost clearly make out the teacher when she was confronted by them. 

So why is this? Why can she see people, but only make out specific ones? Well, there’s two factors to it. “The Norm” and Nadeko’s view of the people around. When you think of Japan or most schools with stricter policies, you’ll notice there’s a lot more uniformity, a lot more order than many other places (not to say that other places aren’t orderly). Everyone wears the same uniform, the same clothes, Most people will have similar hair cuts and colors, most will carry similar bags and follow the standard dress codes. Often, people rebel in their own little ways, phone charms, bag designs, makeup, piercings etc, but even these are the exception and not the norm. Hence, the silhouette being the uniform, the natural order, with the small circles being the individual quirks and unique aspects. 

That’s exactly how Nadeko sees these people. She’s aware they all have their individual perks and quirks (trademark that one), but she’s more aware that on a larger scale, all these people are the same. They look the same, dress the same, act the same. She even considers them to all feel the same bitterness towards one another after the whole Kaiki situation. This mixed with the fact that she can’t even look at people directly, I imagine to her, it’s just a world of silhouettes and fakes.

But obviously there are exceptions to this rule. She sees many of our main characters, mostly out of respect, but I imagine it’s also partly to do with the fact they’re related in some way to Koyomi. She sees Ougi clearly, having only met her once, same with Shinobu and Senjougahara, since they all have something to do with Koyomi. Replace this with her teacher, someone who she respects but also lowkey hates due to him pushing responsibilities on her, she can only see his body clearly. Finally we have the students, who she cares not about, seeing them not as individuals or people she can trust, but just an entity she has to live alongside.

I think that makes her character very interesting and both complementary and contrary to Koyomi’s outlook. He sees no one because he chooses to be ignorant of the world around him. Nadeko however, is more aware than Koyomi, she’s far more perceptive, and in being so she’s become disillusioned with the world and the people in it. She’s not quite as nihilistic as Koyomi in thinking that people have no worth, instead she is too anxious to find that worth in people. She’s scared of judgment and confrontation, much like how Koyomi is scared of emotional attachment. 

So there’s this running theme of anxiety and fear leading to isolation. For Koyomi, it’s the fear of losing something. For Nadeko, it’s the fear of judgment and confrontation. Which is why their world’s are both so similar and different at the same time. One sees no-one but the exceptional, while the other sees no-one as exceptional. 

And to me- That’s incredibly poetic. 

While I’d like to stop there, we still have the matter of Kanbaru to discuss, however, that’s a discussion for another day, and I’ve said my peace here. I hope you guys enjoyed reading this, and I really appreciate all the support you’ve  been showing me over the last few posts. I love writing stuff for you guys, so I’m really happy you guys love my written stuff too. Other than that, Look forward to Kanbaru’s discussion to tie these together, as well as more written and edited stuff on all your favorite shows.

You Guys Take Care Of Eachother, 

                                                         Saki~

[jawnjendes]

kiss your fears goodbye | shawn mendes

university au, shawn x goth gf

this is the real sequel to mystery if there’s anything you want to happen in this series, let me know!

masterlist | series playlist

“I thought opening up was supposed to make you feel better,” I said to Callie. “Instead, I kinda wanna jump ship.”

Another week, another hour in my shrink’s office. The last major thing that happened in my life was telling Shawn about Luca, and I knew it was major because I felt very exposed after doing so. I felt completely naked whenever I was around Shawn, and I haven’t even been properly naked in front of him yet. So I did what I do best and kept a distance.

“Jump ship as in… what?” Callie asked.

“He knows too much,” I explained. “He knows things that I don’t like to talk about. I know that I made the choice to tell him these things, but I just… I have this urge to just get as far away from him as possible. But I also don’t want to do that.”

“Okay. Why don’t you want to?”

“Because he was really kind when I told him about Luca. And, Shawn and I took things to another level… I spent the night at his apartment. And he still liked me after. He makes me… not sad.”

“So you like him, but there’s a part of you that wants to run away. Like, a way to protect yourself from getting hurt. Has he done anything to make you think he’ll hurt you?”

The answer was no, a very fast no. But I still found myself thinking about it. There had to be something. He couldn’t be that good. Why would he be that good to me?

“Somehow I always end up getting hurt.” I shrugged. “I’m two and a half months into this thing. I went into it tiptoeing and watching him carefully. It’s like I’m waiting for something bad to happen. But for once, I want to enjoy this thing. I want to make it work, and I want to not feel paranoid about it.”

~

Have I mentioned that I kissed Shawn on the first date? Me, the girl who was healing and doing so by guarding herself. I just couldn’t resist, he’s too pretty and charming. You try having a conversation with Shawn Mendes and not get overwhelmed with the urge to punch him in the face! With your lips! On his! Softly… It was a moment of weakness in my book.

That weakness is what made Shawn believe that I was into what we had going on. He couldn’t read my generally expressionless and timid face, so I had to show him that I was into him somehow. Two months later, I told him about a minor trauma that skewed my view on romance and I haven’t seen him since. We still texted and Snapped, but I haven’t seen Shawn in person. Yes, it was on my doing. My excuse: a research paper for my stats class. That, and work. At least he was still calling me his girlfriend, right?

Right?

I really was holed up in my dorm, though. I had my laptop in front of me, and I was trying to salvage my failing stats grade. Honestly, I wasn’t worried about my relationship status today because I was worried about repeating a class that contributed to my anxiety and nightmares. I needed to pass this class. It wasn’t even the end of the semester, when everyone typically started to care about their grades. That’s how desperate I was.

Apparently, that wasn’t enough for Shawn to give me my space. He sent a text saying he was coming over after his final afternoon class. When I told him I was balls deep in a formal essay, he replied with, “it’s important.”

“Bitch! So are my grades!” I yelled at my phone.

“I’ll drink to that!” yelled Stella from her room. She didn’t even know the context, but her heart was always in the right place.

My essay progressed minimally by the time Shawn was knocking on the door. I pushed myself off the couch somewhat reluctantly, and answered to find him standing there with his backpack over his shoulder and his guitar case in hand.

“Hi,” I said, not exactly overjoyed to see him.

Shawn leaned in, kissed my cheek, and then let himself in. He looked around the dorm and then stopped in front of the couch. He saw my mess of notes, textbooks, and my laptop. Not only was it an academic mess, it was also several half empty water bottles and a half eaten cup of ramen.

“Oh. You were busy,” he said like he wasn’t expecting this.

My fried brain did not like hearing those words. “What, you thought I was lying?”

It didn’t faze him at all. “No. I just wanted to make sure you weren’t avoiding me.”

Well, someone didn’t come here to fuck around.

I looked at Shawn, now a little more than mildly annoyed, and then I went back to my spot on the couch. “Well, sorry I can’t be attached to your hip twenty-four/seven. I have other things to do besides walk in your shadow.”

“Alright, stop with the attitude.” Shawn set down his case and his backpack. “It’s just that you decided to spend the night at my place, and then you didn’t talk to me for a week. Then, you told me a little bit of your past relationship - again, you decided to do that - and I haven’t seen you since. I just wanna know what’s going on here. I don’t know what you want, or what’s inside of your head. I don’t know why you keep running.”

He really isn’t fucking around. He was way too observant of my bad relationship habits.

“I’m not running,” I said feebly, looking at my laptop screen even though I knew I couldn’t crap out another formal sentence if I tried.

“Look, I know you don’t trust people easily,” Shawn told me. “I know it’s hard for you to bring your walls down. I’ve been trying so damn hard to be the person you can let in. I’ve been doing everything I can to show you that I can be trusted.”

“I know…”

“Do you? Because everytime I think we’re moving forward, you take it back again. I know you’re scared, but it’s okay. You don’t have to be afraid.”

Suddenly, I wasn’t timid and soft spoken anymore. I looked at Shawn once again, my eyes practically daggers. I slowly stood up, my hands balled into fists. “I’m not scared.”

He gave me an incredulous look. “You’re not scared, eh?”

“If I was, I wouldn’t have said yes to being your girlfriend.”

He nodded, and then he rambled. “I wanna buy you flowers, and bring them to you when you’re at work. I wanna spend every night with you. I want to clear a drawer for you at my place. I wanna sing to you, I wanna write songs about you. I wanna introduce you to my friends. I want to meet your parents, I want you to meet my parents, and my sister.”

My stomach felt light and heavy at the same time. I had stepped back from Shawn, and he stepped forward, refusing to create distance between us. Yeah, fear struck in my chest, and for once it was impossible to keep off my face. My eyes went wide at all the mental images he provided for me. I just couldn’t fathom the idea that he wanted all those things.

“I want everything with you,” Shawn said gently, “and I’m not afraid to show it. You just have to let me.”

I folded my arms and averted my eyes. “I never said you couldn’t.”

“I’m worried that any sudden move will you make you leave. You’re a flight risk, honey.” His hands went on my shoulders. “Hey, look at me.”

You said you wanted this to work. You can’t be afraid to try.

I tore my eyes away from the beige dorm walls and planted them on Shawn’s light brown eyes. They were as gentle as his hold on me. I wanted to melt away under his gaze. He was really worried about this, about me.

“I’m not the guy who hurt you,” he said firmly, “whatever his name is. I would never do anything to hurt you. I just wanna make you happy.”

Logically, he’s right. He was not the one who did me wrong. I needed to leap into this. I couldn’t let this seemingly harmless, soft boy get away. I didn’t want him to get away, I just didn’t know how to say it without feeling like the dam in my head will burst.

“Be mine,” he softly coaxed. “Be mine…”

I nodded, letting myself lap up the sweet words. “I am.”

Yeah… that wasn’t enough. Another uneventful week went by, and it was Shawn’s last straw. We went out to see a movie as an attempt to diffuse the tension, and it required minimal communication. However, his breaking point happened when he was walking me across campus back to my dorm. He silently went to hold my hand, and I mindlessly deflected the gesture. That was when he had it.

“So you’re embarrassed to hold my hand now?” he asked defensively.

He had stopped in his tracks, in the middle of the walkway. Of course, this had to go down in front of many nosy onlookers. It made my face go hot, and I felt very attacked.

“No, I’m just-” I tried to say.

“I don’t know how long I can keep doing this.”

“Shawn!” I glanced at the surrounding students before stepping closer to him. “Can we do this somewhere else? Please?”

“We don’t have to.”

And he took off back towards his car. If I wasn’t being stared at by passing students, I would have stayed there, frozen by my dumbfoundedness. Instead, I went the other way, towards my dorm.

I never cried unless it was in front of my therapist. This wasn’t an exception, but I felt the sting in my throat as I speed walked through campus.

I knew Shawn had a reason to be upset. He just didn’t give me the chance to explain myself.

Here’s the thing: plenty of people on this campus and in the city knew Shawn Mendes. Plenty of people were attracted to him in one way or another, and why wouldn’t they be? He was a walking Photoshop edit with that face and those muscles. He was ridiculously talented, and kind to every person he came across. He had so many emotions, and he wasn’t afraid to feel them. He has so much love to give and spread. He could have anyone, literally anyone.

Why would someone like Shawn choose to publicly hold hands with someone like me? I walked around hoping to some higher entity that I won’t be looked at. I always looked like there was a storm cloud above my head. I look and act like someone died. I had walls up so high it put China to shame!

Oh yeah. I fucking cried. Fuck.

~

This better be the last time I do a walk of shame to Shawn’s apartment. As soon as I knocked on the door, I pulled my phone out and started to write out a text. I didn’t look up when Shawn answered.

I did not come here to fuck around.

“Can I come in?” I asked, chin up and looking him in the eyes. My text was sent.

Shawn had changed into his sweats and a white t-shirt in the two hours we were apart. Certainly wasn’t going anywhere, by the looks of it. He seemed a little reluctant, but he stepped aside.

I looked confident as I walked inside his living space. However, my limbs were shaky. Time to get to it.

“First of all,” I began, “I understand why you got upset today. But I did not appreciate you calling me out in the middle of campus. If you have a problem, just wait until we’re together in private, okay? No one needs to know our business.”

“Okay,” he said shortly. “Is that all you came here for?”

I took a deep breath, trying to relieve tension from my shoulders. “I’m sorry I didn’t hold your hand. I’m not very into PDA.”

“Okay.”

“But,” I continued, “with you… I can get into it.”

Shawn’s eyes lit up a little bit. “I mean… I won’t make out with you in public or anything… unless you want to.”

I chuckled. “We’ll start with hand holding. I’m not used to being with someone who actually likes me. That sounds bad, but it’s true.” I paused. “I know you haven’t done anything to hurt me. But my brain likes to work against me. A lot. It’s hard for me to trust you, but I wanna try because… because…”

“Because we can be extraordinary together, rather than ordinary apart.” Shawn smiled, stepping towards me.

I did the same thing. “That’s from Grey’s Anatomy.”

“Yeah.”

He held his hands out, but I stopped in my tracks. I really wanted to touch him, hold his hands and whatnot…

“One more thing,” I said as I held up my phone. “I texted my mom, and I told her about you - us. I was gonna wait til we hit four months, but you need to see that I am serious about this. So I texted her, and she’s gonna call me in like, five minutes. And, and you’re gonna hear me talk about you a lot, and-”

Shawn suddenly closed the gap between us. He cupped my face and pulled me in for a deep kiss. My arms found themselves on his waist, pulling him in just a bit closer. I went up on my toes when he pulled back, not ready to stop anytime soon. He smiled as his lips met mine again. It felt right.

Within a few minutes, my phone started buzzing. I pulled away from Shawn and looked at the glowing screen. Then, I looked up at him, cheeks flushed.

“You’re about to hear me gush about you,” I said.

His smile was absolutely radiant. “I can’t fucking wait.”

[chromium7sky]

Damirae week day 5: locked in| (I follow you) in the dark

A/n: continuation from I’m a sucker series part 4. Enjoy!!

*******flash back *******

After her roomates dies, Raven become the talk on her campus. She thought it will go away as the time passed by. Maybe she could lay low and it will calmed. But it seems after a week, she's been summoned to the student affair office because people been speculate that she is the killer. 

She sighed.

She can't help but provided her alibi along with her friends and lecturer as her witness that she's at the curator party at the night of incident. It was Friday evening after her last class at 7.43pm. As she walked through the pavement that lead to the bus stop, she felt like someone following her but whenever she looked behind her there's no one there. 

She get a pretty bad feeling, as she reached the small shelter station, she quickly open her phone just to put out her nervousness again she felt goosebump until an unknown number calling her. She was hesitated to answer but it is to kill silence atmosphere she swipe right.

"Hello?"

" Rachel?"

" Who are you?"

"Uh, I don't know if you still remember me, this is Damian. The one whom you asked for help that day?"

"Damian!" 

"I was wondering about the Forecast that we experience before, any news about it?"

"What about it?"

"Because I just solve the case from the one we got.'

"This is crazy!" her heart jumped excited. Hey, at least she could help someone to solve the case using her gift. "Well, as far as I know, there is no —" and the Forecast coming to her.

A ROOM. A WOMAN. A PAGE WITH NUMBER 43. BLOODY ROSE. A BLACKBOX WITH HAYS AND A LIVING HEART.

As if like a surge electric flowing through her body, she gasped. 

"Raven, are you okay?"

"I saw it."

"What?" 

"A forecast."

*****end flashback*****

It was dark, and she could smell damped , musky as if this place haven't seen the light for years. She tried to move her arm but it seems that it has been tied to her back, with zip tie. She winced as the sharp zip tie edges grazed to her skin. "Ugh."

'Calm down, Raven.' She as she looked around. It's a dark room, and she could hear cringe sound as she tried to make out, it does sound like a chain swinging from the ceiling. With the moonlight as the only light source, she could deduced that she's in an abandon warehouse. She could hear water drop sound further away.

She realise her blazer where missing as she felt cold creeping on her skin. Oh no. Her cellphone is in one of the pocket. She cursed for her bad luck. As she tried to move both of her hands, the zip tie cuts her wrist, she whinced. Then she felt it, the cold round circled her wrist, a bracelet gave by Damian.

She tried to find the charm that attached to it, she felt something like a shape, is that a bird? No. It has sharp curvy edge for the wings. Bats?

With her other hands struggling to pull it, she heard footsteps coming from front. "Oh god." She never felt like this as she see the dark shadow twisting swishing like some kind of phantom ghost who about to conjuring in front of her. She is so terrified that she deliberated pulled the charm and snapped the crystal bracelet as the crystal bead fall down and scattered to different places. 

"Who-who are you?" She swallow her saliva as she demand an answer.

She could hear someone scoffed, it sounds like a male, deep but menacing. " You are a handful, don't you know that?"

She gasped and couldn't breath. She feel his aura suffocated her. Her presence. Those aura that could literal suck the life out of you. 

"You're not Walter are you?"  Raven remember a maniac who tried to stalk her, giving her hard time that made her do the fake relationship with Damian.

"Oh, that creep guy? I'm way too smart for that cheap tactics." He smiled showing his pure white teeth. If anyone seen him on the street they didn't expected he's a bad guy. He has a calm face that could melt someone, blue eyes that could hypnotise you. 

"Who the hell are you?"

" Do you remember Caroline?"

Everything come down to her at ones. Caroline, dead body, flowers, the apartment left open, someone following her. A flower she received everyday after her roommate's funeral. She grind her teeth as her breath become rough.

"Eric Forrester."

" Oh, you got that right, sweet heart." He smiled.

" Why...why me?"

"I saw you."

"What?" Raven shivered as she heard him.

"I saw you having vision, and that sensation of astral projection." He smirked.

"I saw it all and I was thinking, if I take your soul, I might have longer time to preserve myself as human perhaps eternity. " As his smile grew wider. " No more harvesting."

"What do you mean astral projection?! I'd never..." then she suddenly remember it. It was the time where she's having a breakdown at the bus stop. 

**** flash back ****

After Damian call her about the case they solved as usual, she sit, waiting for the bus to arrive, then she saw a man wearing white shirt with dark pants sit at the end of the bench. She glanced at him then to her phone as she waited for the bus to arrive. Then came a group of guys, walking more like swagging towards the station. 

Tried not to stand out that could caught attention she pull her hood down, still, that couple of 'gentlemen' seems notice her.

"Hey there pretty lady, can I escort you for the night?" Said the sunglasses guy. 

" Uh, no thanks." She clutches her phone closes to her chest.

'Oh, come on , babe. You're lonely, at least we could keep you as a company." The other guy tried to grab her arm.

" Let go." She mumbled.

"Look at her, she's scared." The cap guy point out at her reaction. 

"Hey, hey, play nice gentlemen. We won't let .." before the sunglasses guy finished her words, Raven suddenly burst out.

" Let Go!!" As if she were let go of something big. The real her from her small shell and it was pushing them off from her.

The guys were looking her, petrified and she breathes, taking air into her lungs. She then realise something wrong was happened, she quickly walked out from the scene. Forget the bus, she walked back home.

******* end flash back******

"You're the guy who..."

"That's me." He noded. "I do run some background check as I hack the system and it seems, my job is much easier." He chuckled as he combed his hair with his fingers.

"What do you mean?" Raven, narrow her eyes at him.

"No one will find you. No one will miss you." His voice going darker.

"No!" Raven felt aching on her chest as she about to burst her tears. Yes, she has no one. But how about her fake boyfriend? She doesn't think he would find her but he did say, don't let herself become his case investigation. Currently, She's in the hands of a psychopath who simply stole the soul of innocent woman just to fuel his life and yet, she does certain about a this bad ending.

"He will find me...." Raven whispers.

"He?" Eric tilted to the left. " Darling, no one will know where is this warehouse located. It's outside the city and has no service line." He chuckled. "I don't think he will find you."

Raven again felt shivers as Eric blue eyes has turn into zicronish colour, it's beautiful but the colour resemble of a predator preying their hunt at night. 

"I felt sorry for them."

"Sorry?"

"You trick them. You trick them into giving their soul just to fuel your existence!!" Raven screamed as she felt sympathise with the victim who had to experience this. Helpless, unaware and terror.

"Oh, don't worry. You will see them after this." He laughed. 

"You want my soul? Over my DEAD BODY." Her voice become coarse. Her indigo eyes turn into bloody red and shine. She scream and let out the shadow sipping from her mouth, her nose and her eyes. That shadows swirl in the warehouse like crazy and as if it were Raven's extended limbs, it grabs anything. Chains, shards of glasses, broken table and they hovering above her.

"Holy shit. This is bonus." He laughed. Eric never knew Raven's soul would be so much powerful, perhaps if he consume it, he probably has her power. Very mysterious.

Raven narrowed her eyes as the shadow throw things towards him. Eric without any difficulties, avoid them. He enjoy it, the thrill, this push and pull situation made him excited and It's been a while he never felt like this. He does encounter with one of the vigilant detective at the city he was using as base before. The same situation and indeed he could escape from them.

"All these time , I thought you only have visions and astral projection. Now this? You're are full of surprises for a quiet girl!!" He shouted maniacally as he blocked some of broken table with his hands  and throw aside.

Raven's shadow grab the chain and throw at him like a whip but instead he catches, he pulled and wrap around her. As the other shadow throw some plywood towards him, he simply catch it and smashed to her head.

Raven whimpered as well as her shadow dispersed.

"That is a good fight, Raven." Eric wiped his sweat on his face with his sleeves and slowly approach her. He could help but smiled as he approach his most precious prize. A soul with powers.

Raven felt light head after the blow she received from him. 

His hand how touching her cheeks as he lift her head to face him. His eyes are still in yellow colour as he stared at her. "Now it is my turn and it's been my pleasure to enjoy this." He caress her cheek then her soft lips. Raven still dizzy , spit on his face as she irked with his words. That doesn't affect Eric at all as wipe it with his hand. 

"Your soul shall be mine." Eric leaned towards her as he about to stole her kiss. 

SHAANNKK

Eric felt a sharp pain on his back. As he look behind, he's been shot away by a heavy blow and landed at the wall of the warehouse creating rumble noises. "What the fuck..."

"I kiss her first."

Raven closed her eyes calm her mind then she felt someone touching her cheek. She was about to bite that person's hand but as she open her eyes, it was him. Damian, wearing green specs, leather jackets and hard armour on his torso with R initial in the middle. 

"Wh-wha..." Raven tried to asked him but he immediately put his finger on her mouth. 

"I got this." He whispered then he caress her cheek.

Eric got himself up from the sunken wall. He dust off his shoulders then crack his neck. " Seems like this would be another set back."

"The only thing you could kiss is YOUR ASS." Damian pull out his expanded pole from his pocket, as he twisted another knob, it thin itself into a long blade. " I hope you prepare yourself."

" You and what army?" Eric brows slightly raised.

The window start to shattered as if something went through it, then, all of them stood facing Eric. Raven eyes went agape as she saw a group of leather jackets surrounding Eric. Some of them has blue wings, some has yellow, purple, there's one stand out using the red skull design.

"This army." Damian held his blade towards Eric. The swordman quickly charges towards the perp followed by the one with red skull and the one with blue wings.

"Are you okay?" Raven jolted as she felt her arm being touch by someone. There she saw the two people with purple and yellow design jacket surrounding her. Then, she heard a snapped and there's is no tension holding both of her wrist. The yellow jacket then snapped  the zip tie that tied her ankle at both of chair's leg. " You're free." 

"Follow us." Raven recognise the voice. 

"You..." 

"Stop thinking and start running!" The girl with purple jacket grab her and run towards the exit. As soon as they were outside, Raven saw two people. One with medical aid the other's are on laptop with several cpu at his sides.

"This is..." 

"Damian almost cried when he couldn't find you."

"And I thought he's computer genius."

"Well, He still haven't suppress my ability," say's the guy on the laptop.

"Ti-timbo?" Raven tried to recognise him. 

"It's Tim by the way." Tim smiled.

"Say, Babs. How is she?" The purple jacket put the worn out girl on the stretcher.

As Raven now relaxed, Babs look at her limbs, her head and her face. "I know this sounds may crazy but her wound is healing?"

"What do you mean she's...oh." Steph then look at Raven who is now, unscathed. Tim who is on his laptop now, stared at her as he typing his keyboard like a pianist.

" Raven...are you okay?" Steph hold her hand. 

Raven who is now calmer as she open her eyes. "I am." She smiled.

Then, something happen in the warehouse, a bunch of shot were heard in there. Raven jolted and about to get up. 

"Where are you going, young lady?" Babs hold her arms. 

"Damian! Damian is in there!  He could be in danger!" She begin to frantic as she has no idea what happen in there. 

" They got it under control, Raven." Says Cass who pulled down her mask.

" I can hear the girls voice from Eric. Maybe if I could call them, it might  slow him down." Her hand on her head as she sense the voice of the girl's soul echoing from the warehouse. "I'm going in."

"What?! Are you crazy?!" Steph snapped. " What voice? The victim's?"

"It's the only way."

Cass , Steph and Babs look at themselves then at her.

"Red Robin!" A voice heard from the intercom. " This guy doesn't give a break." 

"Nightwing! How vulnerable is he?"

" As far I could say, Red tried to shot him down but that bullet doesn't seems to get through!"

"How about Robin?"

"Same result."

"Great!" Tim whines as he type faster on the board trying to find some database about this perp.

"Steph, please. It is the only way." Raven put her hands on Steph's shoulder. Steph sighed then she looks at Babs then Cass. "Then it's time for the ladies to KICK his butt." They nodded then dashed towards the warehouse.

$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$

"Is that all you got?!" Eric taunt at them. Damian now huffed as he on his ready stand holding his sword with both of his hands. Jason still aim the guns at Eric as well as Dick held his impulse Bat towards the psychopath.

"Stick and stone don't break my..." a few batarang flew towards him then caused explosion which made Eric blown towards the wall.

"But this little Bat do." said Babs as she hold the a few of them between her finger. Cass pull out her dagger and at her ready stance. 

"Guys! Try to hold Eric down! We have a plan!" Said Steph as she pull out her expandable pole. Eric got up from the the collapse wall then he felt something tied him down. He realise , the wire come from black hoodie with red shirt from the other side. 

"You think this wire could stop m...AAAAAAAA!!" Eric scream as the wire jolted him with electric. " I'm not gonna be the one who left behind," says the Red Robin.

"Well, that solved it." As Dick put his impulse baton to his back and quickly hold Eric to the ground.

"Are you still there?"

Nightwing, Red Hood and Robin looked at Raven come in from outside.

"Raven! Don't come ne.." Damian about to protest but Raven held her hand to him. "I know what I'm doing."

"I call the soul of the fallen, are you there?" Raven repeat the question. Then they heard a faint shriek, something buzz like white noises.

"This gives me goosebump." Dick felt the chill.

"I , Raven will set you free from this nightmare. Let me guide you." Raven held her breathes as she  tried to listen to the soul. There were few dozen of them screaming for help. Raven's indigo eyes change colour to bloody red and shine against the dark. She held her hand towards Eric then the shadow start to flow out from her mouth, nose and her eyes.

"Oh my god!" Step and the girls were shocked. Damian just stare at her as she let go her shadow in eerie way. 

"You stole their soul and now, you shall pay the price." Raven grind her teeth as she held out her hand let the shadow surround the fallen Eric. Eric were screaming as the Shadow going through her mouth and nostril.

Dick quickly move away from that place as he sees the guy are struggling on the floor then, the shadow emerge with some white shiny orbs from Eric and made him still as his he has no power left. 

Raven then disperse her shadow, the white orbs are floating and fly out to the sky. The Bat and Co were stunned with such of event. The blue hair girl about to collapse after she's using her new discover power and Damian quickly caught her in his arm.

"Well, this is it. We caught Eric." Says Tim as he release Eric from the wire. "Now he looks like a broken record." 

" Yeah." Jason looked at the perp who cant stop muttering about the soul was taken.

"Let us go back to the manor. Alfred and Duke probably worried about us." Said Dick as he tied Eric with ropes. 

"How about Raven?" Damian looked at her, unconscious. 

"Well, we'll bring her along. I bet Alfred will love her." says Steph as she clasped her hands.