#i hc moon as being very slow to anger

[dragonjesterwrites]

Things I have learned from HW2:

I need to make Moon +110% more giggly, and Sun +110% more sassy

[sensivs]

“You promised you wouldn’t

leave me”

Sad hcs on how I think the hashira would take your death (SOB SOB WAHHHHHHHHH SOB SOB)

Cw// large amounts of mentions of blood and large wounds, HUGE INFINITY CASTLE SPOILERS AS WELL (for shinobu)

(Also reader is gn with a more amab lean)

(female readers are free to read this but you’ll most likely not like it due to the He/him use of pronouns/male use of nicknames)

K. Rengoku

- Never in a million years would rengoku thought he would be crying over your dead body. That thought just never crossed his mind and instead was covered up by his mass amount of love for you.

- You desperately tried protecting rengoku from akaza, but ended up becoming heavily injured. Surely you would just bounce back from this fight right? Right..?

- Rengoku watched in slow motion as akaza’s fist dug its way through your torso and through your backbone. Creating a huge crater in your stomach. Rengoku jumped onto his feet and immediately ran towards you, scrambling his way onto his feet.

- But before Rengoku could land a hit on the upper moon, he ran away. But that didn’t matter, what mattered was you and your health.

- Rengoku held you in his arms, rocking you in his large arms back and forth and sobbing, telling you that you were alright and that you would surely live through this.

- Tanjiro, inosuke, and zenitsu stood back in pure shock and sadness. They looked up to you as their own parental figure.. and now.. you were gone.

- Tanjiro sobbed as he sniffed the air of death, blood, and sadness, while zenitsu bursted out crying, not being able to hear your heart beating anymore. Inosuke fell to the ground and tried his hardest not to cry but the fat tears pushed their way through and rushed out his eyes like a waterfall.

- Rengoku couldn’t let go of you, even when people tried to pry him off of you, his strength was just unmatched. His grief pushed him into a depressive state. To the point where his bubbly personality turned into pure anger.

- His hatred for demons increased and his training hardened. He was going to avenge you if it was the last thing he’d do.

T. Uzui

- Tengen and you were desperate to find your wives, you’d do anything to get them back. You watched in utter horror as a slim creature emerged out of the original demon you were fighting.

- His extremely skinny body made him look weak but since the two demons were upper 6 you knew that his body was just something to throw you all off.

- you found yourself heaving in pain as the poison of gyutaro’s weapon burrowed itself deep in your bloodstream. You cried as you felt the burning sensation of the poison rushing through you as quickly as it possibly could.

- Gyutaro was able to slice your stomach going up to the middle of your chest. Blood gushed out of your large wound and spilled all over the ground.

- “Y/NN!!�� You heard one of your wives very familiar and ear-piercing voice calling out your name, suma crashed onto her knees beside you and bursted out crying.

- “Y/N YOU’LL GET THROUGH THIS ALRIGHT? STICK WITH US PLEASE” suma screeched as she shook you harshly “SUMA SHUT UP HE’S ALREADY IN PAIN DUE TO THAT HUGE WOUND HE HAS HE DOESNT NEED TO BE IN MORE PAIN DUE TO YOUR CRYING ASS” makio screamed at suma who was holding you close to her chest.

- You smiled weakly, “suma.. makio.. where’s hinatsuru..?” “She’s alright, she’s just unconscious for the time being”, you hummed, happy to hear hina was alive.

- you coughed up blood that had been bubbling in your throat, suma screamed some more before being hit on top of the head by makio. “Suma.. my dearest wife..” you started off.

- “Although your the most sensitive of the bunch, you’re still my wife and I’ll never let that be unknown.. your voice brings such comfort to my soul and I’m happy your able to be apart of my life..” you placed a hand on top of suma’s. She almost bursted out in tears but decided she’d save them for later.

- You turned your gaze to makio, who was silently crying while looking at your heavily injured body, you placed your other hand on her cheek and gave her the warmest smile you could muster up, “makio, although you’re hotheaded like no other, that doesn’t change anything on how I look upon you, you are one of my precious wives and you’ll always be known as that.. I love you.. suma.. makio”

- Your body began to go limp as you felt your heart grow slower and slower, “although hinatsuru and tengen aren’t here.. please let them know I love them as well” suma nodded profusely as she then began to cry louder than anything in the entire world.

- She held you as close as she could while makio held you close to her too, her tears falling onto your haori. You slowly closed your eyes and embraced the light at the end of the tunnel…

- Tengen had found his wives surrounding his only husband, crying their eyeballs out. Tengens heart dropped as this could only mean one thing.. the love of his life.. had.. died..

- He fell onto his knees and slowly picked you up, the sight of your eyes being permanently shut made him burst out in tears as he held your dead body close to his..

- That’s when he finally bursted out in tears, he didn’t care about the condition he was in, all he could care about was you.

- After the entertainment district incident, Uzui was no longer his “life of the party” self. He was way more closed off, even to his wives.

M. Kanroji

- It had been at least a couple hours since tanjiro, nezuko, and genya had left. Leaving you and your girlfriend to fight zohakuten. His wooden dragons attacked you both from both sides.

- It almost seemed as this fight would never end, but you knew you two could handle the demon child.

- Just as you sliced one of the dragons, you felt a large presence behind you. You twisted your head quickly but then felt a burning sensation in the middle of your chest.

- You felt the life drain out of you through your chest. You looked down to see one of the wooden dragons head pierce through you.

- Blood gushed out of your wound and spilled onto the forest ground, creating a large pool below you. The dragon then retracted its head through the hole it made in your chest, letting you fall to your demise.

- You body fell with the sound of a harsh crack of your rib cage breaking into a thousand pieces, collectively digging themselves into your lungs.

- Your vision grew blurry.. and then.. nothing

- “Y/N!!” your girlfriend called out, but didn’t receive a response, she looked over to where you originally were when she last looked at you.

- Her heart dropped as her eyes then darted down to the floor. Your body laying uncomfortably on the hard dirt floor.

- Mitsuri’s world began to slow down, tears immediately rushed to the edge of her eyelids before spilling out with a large wail.

- Her attention then quickly drew back to zohakuten, her sword springing into action almost immediately, rage engulfed her to the very tip of her nails.

- “you.. I will never forgive you for what pain I feel right now!! I don’t care if you look like some 10 year old kid!! I’ll kill you no matter what!!” Mitsuri screamed at the demon, her face completely red with anger and tears dripping down both her cheeks.

- Her speed increased significantly, her adrenaline and anger fueling her. She couldn’t let this kid get away with killing her bf!!

- Mitsuri sobbed as her legs grew weak on her but she couldn’t give up now, she had to avenge you even if it led her to her own death as well.

- “I CANT DO THIS ANYMORE” mitsuri sobbed out, her sword whipping down on the wooden dragon that was chasing her. She looked up in horror as she saw a dragon dive down, gobbling her up.

- But a few seconds later, the dragon rammed into a tree and collapsed, fading away after it crashed. “I’m saved!” Mitsuri cheered but her happiness was quickly cut short as she remembered you.

- She ran over to your body, falling to her knees as she saw your poor body lay face down. Your chest heaved slowly and raggedy, you were literally hanging onto a thread.

- “Y/N!! STAY WITH ME OKAY? WE’LL GET YOU HELP!” Mitsuri yelled between sobs, she scooped you up into her arms and hoisted you up onto her thighs.

- You’re eyes glistened with tears, you weren’t ready to leave.. you weren’t ready to leave mitsuri.. with the small amount of strength you had, you took mitsuris hand into yours and kissed it. Giving her one last loving look before your eyes grew shut and your grip on her hand loosened.

- Mitsuri could not stop crying after your death, she hated every passing second that wasn’t spent with you.

S. Kochō

- You and shinobu ran through the halls of the infinity castle. The multitude of doors that were scattered all around you two giving you a tiny sense of fear knowing that at any moment they could open up and you could fall to your death or be in a presence of an upper moon.

- the two of you then found yourselves in a hallway, a door not too far away. You and shinobu shared a look before carefully walking towards the door.

- Shinobu took the honor of opening the door, cautiously sliding the door to the side. There, you two saw upper moon 2..

DOUMA

- There was no doubt that this was the demon who killed kanae.. his shiny, blonde hair gave his mysterious persona away.

- The upper moon turned around “Hm? Someone’s here?” His rainbow gaze fell on the top of you two, “whoa it’s a girl! And her sweet boyfriend~!”

- You and shinobu both gripped onto your sword’s hilts tightly, “why hello there~! Very nice to meet you, my names douma~ it’s a lovely night out tonight, isn’t it~?”

- In the corner of your eye, you saw someone struggling to crawl away safely, “HELP ME..!” said the poor girl. “Shhh! We’re talking right now!” Douma was quick with his attack, with a slash of his fans, ice shwooshed through the already-cold air.

- Shinobu was quick to the girls aid, her fast pace competed against the ice. “Are you okay?” You managed to hear shinobu’s soft question, the girl looked scared, her frightened state left her unable to answer your girlfriend’s question.

- “Whoa! You sure are fast! Are you a pillar?” Douma was quick to ask questions, he was like a child who was curious about everything he could lay his eyes on.

- But with a blink of an eye, the girl was then sliced up, her body fell onto the ground in several large pieces. “There we go..” douma adjusted himself a bit. “Ah, don’t worry about her! Just leave her over there! I’ll make sure to gobble her up later”

- Douma stood up, his large figure easily towered over shinobu. He then went on to talk about how he was the founder of something.. something about eternal paradise..?

- You quickly made a break for it, running towards the demon and slicing your sword down, just as you were about to cut up one of his arms, douma’s balled up fist came in contact with your stomach.

- A large amount of blood gushed out of your mouth as you were flung back into the wall. “Y/N!!!!” Shinobu cried out.

- “I’d appreciate it if you told your boyfriend not to sneak up on me like that again..” Douma looked down at shinobu with a threatening look, but she didn’t care.

- She wasn’t going to listen to the same demon who lead to her older sister’s death.. your consciousness faded in and out, along with your hearing. But all you could think about shinobu’s safety.

- You groaned as you stood up, the pain in your stomach dying down at a painful rate. You climbed up onto the bridge/deck(??) and steadily took your balance back.

- But the moment you looked up you saw something horrifying, shinobu being struck by one of douma’s icy attacks. You yelled out to her before quickly making your way over to her.

- You shielded shinobu’s recovering body with your own, making sure douma had no chance to take a hit on her.

- “Could you please move out the way~? I have some business to take care of that includes your girlfriend~”, “like hell I will.. I’d be damned if I let you touch her..”

- “Hm.. You seem like a snack good enough for akaza! Ooo~! I could gift your dead body to him as a little token of our friendship~!!” Douma jumped up and down excitedly like a child.

- “Wha..” you could finish your tiny sentence before you were struck by one of douma’s attacks. Making you immediately drop to the floor like a fly.

- Shinobu looked back over to you to see you lying on the floor, your throat spurting out blood everywhere on the wood below you. Some drips of blood seeping down the cracks of the deck and into the pond water.

- “nonononononono..! y/n talk to me!!” You could only cough as a response. Your eyes grew glossy with tears as you realized this was your end..

- “You.. fucking piece of shit.. I’ll make sure to drag your body to hell and watch you burn in the enteral flames..”

(yk how the rest of the fight goes)

..

GRRRRR I REALLY WANTED TO ADD MORE HASHIRA BUT IM WAY PAST MY PUBLISH DATE SO THIS IS ALL I COULD DO 💔💔💔💔💔

IM SO SORRY GUYS :(((((

[cinnamontoastcrunch-15]

The Prank

That’s right, this is angsty (hehe angsty brain pain)

Thanks for the HC @festivefish ! I hope you enjoy this! Sorry it took me so long to write, I find it so hard to actually start these

Anyway, enjoy some Wolfstar p a i n

Also I’ve already started an aftermath one, so if anyone wants to read that, let me know!

Sirius was walking down to the whomping willow with James and Peter, ready for another transformation. That is, until Sirius glanced over at Peter, who was clutching a green tartan blanket.

“Wormtail!” He stopped, and so did Peter and James. “Seriously? The tartan? Moony hates that one.” Peter frowned.

“Since when?” Sirius just took the blanket from him, glancing at the sky.

“I have half an hour. You guys go, I’ll meet you there.” He started a light jog back to the castle. It didn’t take him long to get to the dorm, and when he checked the clock he still had 25 minutes. Perfect. That’s when it happened. He stepped out the portrait hole, straight into Severus Snape. He rolled his eyes and kept walking.

“What are you doing going out so late, Black?” He asked nonchalantly.

“Why were you waiting outside Gryffindor common room, Snivellus?” Sirius shot back, slowing his walk in the hopes that Snape would get bored and leave. No such luck.

“Isn’t it a full moon tonight?” Snape raised his eyebrows at Sirius.

“Wouldn’t know.” He took a detour, knowing he had time, just trying to lose Snape.

“It’s a little odd, don’t you think? Your little friends, out on the full moon.” Sirius didn’t say anything, just turned around and started to head back to the common room, starting to get more and more sure that Snape wasn’t going any time soon, and trying to find another way to lose him. He was running low on time, anxiety creeping through him. He was almost there, right outside the portrait hole, when Severus decided to push his luck. “Particularly Loony Lupin.” Sirius pinned Snape to the wall, anger pulsing through him as he pressed his wand a little into Severus’ neck.

“What are you trying to say?” That’s when he felt it. It almost felt like cold hands shoving through the barriers in his mind, rifling through everything. Sirius staggered backwards, wand falling to the floor. He couldn’t breathe, he wanted to throw up, paralysed as he felt a click as Snape found what he was looking for, his face dropping in shock, as the pressure pushing against Sirius’ head lifted.

“The Shrieking Shack! Are you insane?!“ Sirius couldn’t respond. He was barely even present anymore, taken back to being there, like he was every holiday. He was meant to be safe in Hogwarts, but Grimmauld Place was everywhere, his mother making sure he wasn’t hiding anything every time he came home. He knew he could fight it, he could push the barriers up. He’d done it before. “Although…” Snape was thinking very carefully. “If a student were too wander down to the shrieking shack after hearing noises, and wind up bravely surviving an attack from a dangerous werewolf that the school was knowingly housing, endangering everyone against their will, surely they would be rewarded for their bravery.” He was clearly thinking to himself now. “But how do you even get in there?” He turned back to Sirius, nonchalantly re-entering his mind. Sirius focused as much as he could on the barriers. He was doing it for Remus, he had to do it for Remus. He tried. He tried as hard as he could, but all he could focus on was the awful pressure, the paralysing anxiety that stole his breath, his heartbeat, his movement, everything. The moment he felt the click, and Severus’ face twisted into a cruel, triumphant grin, he knew he had fucked up. “The root of the Whomping Willow.” He muttered, almost inaudibly, before sprinting away. Sirius could feel himself shaking as he fell to the floor, guilt overwhelming him. He had failed. This was the one useful thing he could have gotten out of being stuck in Grimmauld Place for 16 years of his life. Instead, he had ruined Remus’ life.

“Padfoot? You’re taking ages, you twat.” James’ voice rang out. He heard the footsteps as James got closer. “Sirius? Are you alright?” The urgency of everything hit Sirius, and he stood up quickly, blanket abandoned, grabbing James’ arm desperately.

“Snape. He knows. He knows how to get past the Whomping Willow.” James’ face drained of blood.

“You mean you- you told him?” His voice was cold, unreachable.

“Prongs, it’s not like that, he knows le-“ James had already sprinted away, as fast as he possibly could, after Severus. Sirius didn’t stop the tears. He didn’t have the energy. It was all his fault. He could have stopped it, he should have stopped it.

Everything was his fault.

[justcallmenikki7]

Love at first Sight

BTS!Twilight!Au & Supernatural!Au

Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x Reader

Summary: Trying to be a good college student, you decide to study with your best friend in the universities library. But all it takes is one look at the bunny like boy to find your soulmate. 

Warnings: FLUUUF, Jungkook trying to be patient with you but all he wants is for you to accept him and the imprint bond, angst, minor character death, Werewolf!Jungkook, BTS in general, reader nervous and trying to decide what’s right

W.C.: 4k

Notes: So, I have had this in my drafts for so long, and I was wanting to stick with the headcanons, but I was wanting to get this out so badly so I am doing just that. I will have Jungkook’s HC posted soon!!

Ever since you met Lisa Manoban at the age of sixteen, you entered the world of the supernatural. At first, you had no clue about the supernatural, even though you were friends with a vampire for a year, Lisa had kept her identity hidden from you. You were oblivious, never catching onto how she would stay up all night, not once being tired, how she was constantly cold, and how she had talked about history as if she lived in it. In your defense, you believed that she was a huge history geek.

But that was all washed away when you walked in on her sucking blood from a human. Looking back on it, the both of you laugh about the situation. But in that moment, you believed that you were somehow drugged on your way to her house. In honesty, you were very calm about the whole situation, minus the dead body on the ground fifteen feet away from you.

Two years later, you believe that you are a genius when it comes to the supernatural. Having a best friend who is a three-hundred-year-old vampire who has told you everything about the supernatural world is cool. Learning about demons, ghosts, werewolves, vampires, and even Gods is handy.

“Why can’t the dogs stay outside where they belong?” Your best friend, Lisa, groaned.

“Why are you even breathing? You don’t need to breathe,” you commented, not looking up from your textbook.

“Because I enjoy the smell of old books, but the dogs are tainting it with their wet dog smell,” she countered back, knowing that the werewolves themselves can hear her. A growl ripping through the air was a tell-tale sign that they did, only to be answered by a smirk from Lisa.

Lisa, in short, can be considered as a sadistic person because she loved messing with people, especially the wolves. You knew that she could defend herself, being alive for 300 years has given here plenty of experience to take care of herself.

“Can you stop tormenting the wolves and help me study?” You asked, looking up at her.

Pouting, “I guess.”

Movement from the other side of the room caught your attention. Looking over, your eyes were met with a pair of doe like eyes. That was when you felt like everything was put together – as if you found the one thing that you have been searching for your entire life.

“Oh, hell no,” you heard Lisa protest, standing up, collecting both of yours books, shaking you out of your trance.

The sound of a primal, possessive growl cut through the air, making a shiver of familiarity and want go down your spine. But then you also wanted to calm down them and make sure that they are okay.

“What’s going on? Why are we leaving?”

Before your questions could be answered, you felt a warm presence behind you. All you wanted to do was fall back into them, to be able to soak up their warmth and hide away in what you would consider to be home.

“Back away from my mate, blood sucker.” The person behind you demanded, leaving no room for questions.

“Blood sucker? Oh, that’s fucking rich.” Lisa gave out a sarcastic laugh, stepping around the table to get closer to the wolf that you have yet to put a name too.

Turning around, you were met with the one and only, Jeon Jungkook. You were at first confused on why he was so close to you, and even associating with you guys. But once his eyes met yours, you put the pieces together.

You are Jeon Jungkook’s imprint.

Lisa has told you stories about how only a select group of supernatural creatures have an imprint. She told you about how since the beginning of time, werewolves had a mate for life, or imprint, given to them. If that werewolf was rejected, then they were to become physically, mentally, and emotionally empty because they have lost their other half. In some rare cases, they die from depression. Nothing, no one, could heal them and bring them back to normal. They literally cannot move on.

“That is why I am very happy that vampires do not have an imprint because I’d rather die than be rejected by the one person I am made for,” Lisa admitted.

That is why he called you his mate, you added.

That is why you were in that trance.

Oh shit. Mentally you are face palming yourself for being slow.

Standing up from your chair, you stepped in between the two angry supernatural beings.

“Hold on,” you began.

“There’s no holding on. He just called me a fucking blood sucker.” Lisa practically screamed, hating that title.

“Lisa,” you said calmly, knowing how to handle her. “Go wait for me outside and we can go back to my place and study, okay?”

“You’re not going with her.” Jungkook jumped in, stepping closer to you.

Turning towards him, eyes narrowed. “And you do not have the ability, or say, or right, to tell me what I can and cannot do.” Your voice was stern, showing where you draw the line. Even though the look of hurt and defeat on his face made your heart clench sadly, you were not going to allow yourself to be in a position where you were bossed around.

“But she’s dangerous,” Jungkook tried to reason, desperateness evident his voice, both his inner wolf and him dreading the thought of you leaving with the vampire girl.

A scoff from Lisa confirmed that she did not go outside like you asked her too. “And you’re not?”

“She’s my imprint,” Jungkook growled, eyes turning to an almost charcoal black, hands shaking from anger.

Not knowing what to do, you stepped closer to Jungkook. Your actions seemed to have calmed him down slightly, and you could see movement behind him, alerting you that he has his pack behind him. “I know that I am your imprint, but that does not mean that you can tell me what I can and cannot do. I am going to leave with Lisa and that is final.”

Your words seemed to have broken him, and you could understand why because of how rejecting it sounded.

“You’re rejecting me?” He choked out, voice cracking and he looked so torn. The sight breaking your heart, something inside of you feels like it has died.

“No, but I need time to process this.” Your confirmation relaxed him and you, along with his pack who let out a breath that they have been holding this whole time.

Nodding his head reluctantly, he stepped away from you, something similar to a whine of sadness coming from his throat. Never has Jeon Jungkook felt so small in his life.

Giving him a sad smile, “Just give me time, please.” 

“Okay, I can do that.”

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

You have to admit, Jungkook does not give up.

He has allowed you time to think about it, but you did not realize how many classes you had with him. Jungkook and his friends were rumored to be a gang called BTS, Kim Namjoon being the supposed leader. And they were not the only ‘gang’ to be at the university. There was ‘GOT7,’ ‘Seventeen’ and even ‘NCT,’ which so happened to be friends with BTS. You knew of them, having seen them around campus, but never have talked to them, besides Jung Hoseok, Jungkook’s pack member. The two of you were lab partners in Astronomy last semester.

But ever since you found out that Jungkook was your mate, he began to show up to class now. Of course, he did show up every now and then, probably three times a week. Now, he is showing up everyday and is now sitting behind you. His presence both overwhelms you and brings you a sense of security. You can feel his stare on you in class and around campus. You know that he is close by when you get a tingly feeling in your chest, a tell tale sign that tells you that your imprint is near. The both of you have yet to talk because each time he approaches you, you freak out and run away, dragging Lisa with you. You know that your actions hurt him when you do this. The tightness and longing in your chest is a sign that Jungkook is hurting. 

Every night you talk to Lisa about your situation. You have not put it off at all, something that you know that Jungkook is assuming that you are doing when Hoseok stopped you in the hallway. The thing is, you are terrified. You are terrified because you are nineteen with zero experience in the dating field. Being single your whole life is backfiring on you right now. You do not know what to expect or even know what to do. Plus, what if Jungkook is only feeling this way because you are his mate and he only wants to live? Is he just using you because you are his imprint, or does he seriously want to be with you and be committed?

Those questions earned you a slap from Lisa. “Dumbass, did you not listen to me when I explained to you how imprinting works? When a person imprints on someone, all that they see and want is them. Everyone else becomes irrelevant. Their loyalty stands with you, and their pack. Nothing and no one can break the bond that they have with you. It is said that the Moon Goddess herself made the bond not even break in death. Loyalty is the most important thing in the wolf world. I can bet my life that Jungkook is thinking about you right now. Well, I know he is because Kim Namjoon came up to me and asked me to talk to you, which is funny because he thinks that I haven’t, and gets you to talk to Jungkook. Supposedly Jungkook is acting like a scolded puppy and is pouting because you keep avoiding him.”

That is why you were not surprised when Jungkook cornered you one day (the day Lisa had to miss class) in the hallway. The distressed look on Jungkook’s face told you that he in fact is panicking. “I’m sorry, I know that I promised you that I would give you space, but I cannot stop thinking about you and needing to be in your presence. Both my wolf and I are freaking out. All we need is an answer, or at least a hint so we can calm down. I am so sorry for pressuring you.” He rushed out, leaning back to give you space. Running a hand through his hair, you could see how nervous he is.

“I’m sorry for being slow on getting back to you, I didn’t realize how badly this has been affecting you. I should’ve thought about that instead of being ignorant.”

Shaking his head violently, “No, no! Don’t apologize, I totally understand why you are taking a while. I just, my instincts were taking over because my wolf and I were needing to have some sort of contact with you to help calm down.”

“What fur color is your wolf?” You asked randomly, surprising Jungkook.

Smiling, “Black. Midnight black to be more specific,” he answered.

“That’s cool! Are you the only one with the fur color in your pack, or?”

“Yoongi-hyung has the same fur color, but his has a much darker tent than mine. Even though I have incredible sight, sometimes I can’t see him because of how well he blends in with his surroundings at night.”

“That’s really cool!” You boasted, becoming very intrigued with what you are learning about.

Jungkook flashed you a smile, making you smile back at him by how contagious it was. Clearing his throat, “So, uh, does this mean that like…”

“Yes,” you began, trying to calm your racing heart from the hopeful look on Jungkook’s face, “But, I don’t want to jump right into a relationship. I’ve never had a relationship before, and I don’t want to jump into one right yet.”

Trying to keep the sad look from showing, Jungkook still smiled brightly. “Of course! I don’t want you to be in a position where you feel uncomfortable.”

“Thanks for being understanding!”

And understanding he is.

After your guys talk, the both of you swapped phone numbers and even each other’s social media. Jungkook was determined to start a streak with you on snapchat and become your number one best friend on it, something you found funny. From then on out Jungkook became a constant in your life, a constant that Lisa does not like – mainly because she is not a fan of wolves. She, though, is happy to see how happy you have become, especially after your mother’s death. She could not deny how lovesick Jungkook is for you and how attentive he is with you. Her and the rest of BTS laugh with each other on how alert Jungkook becomes when you are doing something.

“Hey, I’m going to go and get some more ketchup.” You got up from the table and headed straight towards the counter that held the ketchup.

Lisa watched Jungkook stare at you as you walked off, never once taking his eyes off you. It was like a foreshadowing moment that Jungkook had – jumping up from his chair, he made his way towards you, tugging your arm towards him before you turned around and slipped in the puddle that was right below your feet. Lisa must admit that she did not even notice the puddle that was below your feet. Being a vampire, her eyesight and hearing are very advanced. So, seeing that Jungkook noticed it and prevented a scene of you falling, she could not deny the fondness that she is beginning to have towards the wolf.

But she believes that Jungkook has a sixth sense when it comes to you. And Jungkook does. The moment he woke up he could feel that there was something wrong with you. He does not know what, but the heavy feeling that him and his wolf felt was a sign that you were not okay.

And you are not.

Today marks the two-year death anniversary of your mom. Of course, everyday since that day has been hell, but knowing that two years ago, just a few hours before her death was the last time you got to hear her voice, feel her touch, and be with her. You hate yourself for not staying any longer with her, for not taking her with you when you had that ability.

You heard your phone buzzing like crazy, but you did not even bother with picking it up. All you did was stare at the wall in a void like state. You ignored Lisa’s knocking on your door, her calls, and worried voice. She knew what day this was, and she knew that it was going to be a difficult and long day. She was worried that you were going to relapse, worried that you will drift off into that dark place that took her months to get you out of.

That is why at 9:53 a.m. she was not that surprised to open the door to find a panicking Jeon Jungkook.

“Where is Y/N? Why is she not answering my calls?” He asked quickly, only to pause once he could sense that you were close. “What’s wrong with Y/N?”

The vampire sighed, “Jungkook, I hate that I have to say this, but Y/N may not want to see you right now. Today is a very bad day for her.”

“Please let me in.” Jungkook begged, distressed that he cannot comfort you. With that, the statement that Lisa said made Jungkook and his wolf even more distressed, if that was even possible. “I just need to be with her, help her. I won’t be able to live with myself if I didn’t.”

Running her hand down her face, Lisa sighed and allowed the wolf in after a few minutes of thinking. “Second door on the right, the door is unlocked.”

As if he was a dog chasing after a ball, Jungkook charged towards your door. Being cautious, he opened the door quietly, being met with the smell of regret, longing, and sadness. His wolf whimpered at the sight of their mate in such a depressed state. Walking in quietly, Jungkook took off his shoes and did the one thing that he knows that will work.

 Lifting the covers, he caught your attention, “Jung—”

“-Hey,” he smiled at you, not believing that he was in front of a goddess. No matter what state you are in, you will always look beautiful in his eyes.

“Why are you here and not asleep? You usually wake up at 2 in the afternoon on the weekends?”

“I could sense something is wrong.”

“I-I’m okay,” you tried to lie, but the glassy look in your eyes was forming tears. Lip wobbling, “I’m not okay,” and that was when you felt yourself break down and seek out the comfort that only your imprint could give you. Throwing yourself into his hold, you gave up on trying to keep that barrier that you have created when it comes to physical contact with the wolf.

Jungkook had a million questions that he wanted to ask you, to find out who or what has hurt you. His wolf wanted to seek out the person who has hurt his mate, to kill or torture that person that dared to mess with his mate. Jungkook felt the primal need to do so, just to make you happy. But he wanted you to be okay first, to smile again, to be happy and yourself.

For the next hour, you relished in the comfort that only Jungkook could give you. With him holding you felt like a part of you felt better, but the knowledge that your mom is still gone and that she will not be back still haunts you. Jungkook could sense that, he could sense your distress and his wolf whimpered inside of him. Running his hands through your hair (something he has been wanting to do for three months now), he could tell that it is something that helps you calm down.

“My mother passed away two years ago today,” you began. Jungkook’s hold on you tightened, encouraging you to go on. “I should’ve taken her with me instead of leaving her there by myself. I should’ve dragged her with me instead of leaving her there at that stupid mall so she could get those dumb pair of shoes that she was waiting for. I tried to convince her to wait and get them later on, but she was adamant on getting them.” You gritted out, becoming angry at yourself. “And then there was a robbery during the sale, and she was…” and you clung onto him as if he was your lifeline, nose nuzzled into his neck, finding comfort in his natural, woodsy scent.

“It’s not your fault, Y/N. You did not know, it is not your fault that your mom died, and she knows that. Blaming yourself for something that was way out of control is going to continue to make you miserable and eventually will kill you.” Jungkook said after a while. “Please stop beating yourself up over this is leading you down that road.”

You did not say anything, but when you squeezed Jungkook tightly for a minute and then released, he knew that was you acknowledging what you said. For the rest of the day the two of you spent the day in your bed, holding onto one another, talking about anything and everything. Eventually the both of you fell asleep without noticing it. Waking up the next morning entangled with one another, it felt normal. It was as if this was normal.

You realized that Jungkook is permanent and that he is not leaving you, that he is not making this all for show. So, that is why you began to stop stressing and worrying. You allowed yourself to fall, and you fell.

Ever since that day, you and Jungkook became what you call closer. You began to become physically affectionate with him and accept his affectionate ways. Jungkook obviously did sit next to you, or at least be six feet away from you in the beginning because him and his wolf needed that sense of relaxation to know that you were nearby. Now, though, Jungkook and you are touching one another in some sort of way now, whether that be your arms touching, knees touching, or him standing very close to you. You did not mind this one bit, the feeling of his body warmth had you feeling safe.

In class, now, Jungkook sits beside you, kicking the class nerd, AJ, out of his spot. His actions resulted in the silent treatment from how rude he was to the scrawny kid. During class Jungkook would whine and basically paw at your arm, wanting you to forgive him. After class, he went up to AJ and apologized, well, tried too, which earned Jungkook a please smile from you. 

The boy loves your praises and attention. But sometimes, he could not handle it when you and Lisa talk about guys right in front of him. 

You were out with Lisa, Jungkook, and Jungkook’s pack, having dinner at the new restaurant in town. All of you were seated around the large, round table, you being sat in between Jungkook and Lisa. Jungkook had scooted his chair to where it made your chair and his almost like a two-seater, arm around your shoulder as he had you leaned into him. You, obviously, did not mind this, finding yourself relaxed into his body. The two of you were looking at the menu together, trying to figure out what you both would want.

“I think I’ll just stick with a salad as an appetizer and have chicken alfredo as my dinner,” you concluded, looking at Jungkook.

“That sounds good baby,” Jungkook agreed with what you wanted. “I’ll take Spicy Kimchi Stew,” Jungkook concluded after a few minutes later, finalizing what he wanted right before the waiter came to the table.

Lisa kicked your leg, catching your attention. Raising her eyebrows suggestively at you when you realized that she found the waiter cute. Giggling, you nodded in confirmation, not denying the waiter was cute. But they would never beat Jungkook in attractiveness in your opinion.

Not knowing that Jungkook watched the interaction between you and Lisa, a low predatory growl rumbled in Jungkook’s chest. Tightening his arms around you, he sat up straighter in his chair and glared daggers into the waiter, nerving the poor boy.

“Jungkook.” You scolded at his rudeness when he told the boy what you two would like.

Losing his composure, Jungkook frowned down at you, “What?” He asked, trying to play innocent.

“Don’t be rude,” you said, giving Jungkook a look.

Jungkook pouted, “I’m sorry,” he apologized, wanting to get back on your good side. He hates being scolded by you.

“It’s okay, Kookie. Just go easy on the poor lad, he did no harm.”

“But you thought he was cute,” Jungkook grumbled, taking a sip of his water, jealousy evident in his tone and body language. 

Catching on to what he was saying, you giggled, finding his jealousy cute. Finding some confidence, “He has nothing on you.” A huge blush covered your face after you said that, “you have nothing to worry about.”

Jungkook was silent for a moment, body going stiff. You were nervous that you messed up, but those thoughts disappeared once you felt a pair of lips pressing to the side of your head and his arms pulling you closer (if possible) to his side, body trying to cover you with his. For the rest of the night, it felt as if you and Jungkook were on a new level. Jungkook was extra clingy and you were wanting Jungkook’s attention. You assume that your words had hit the both of you in a deeper meaning, a silent way of saying that you both belong to one another. 

[rintarous]

Kags relationship Hc's please 🥺

general overview:

your relationship with him is basically the enemies to lovers trope

tobio is still pretty new to relationships so he’s kinda slow with everything

but the boy is trying his very best to make you the happiest !!!

how he asked you out:

the moment he realized he liked you was when he found himself looking for your presence every time you weren’t around lol

at first he thought he was just being delusional cs you did say he was your enemy 

hinata notices this and asked him if he liked you

so thats when he had this realization

“holy shit... i do like her” 

so now he just needed to plan how the fuck he’ll ask you out

in the end he asked hinata to do him a solid and give you a piece of paper that says “can we meet at the gym later?” 

it was short and simple

mans just said: i know you hate me but will you go out with me

and how could you say no to tobio

also all this time you were just crushing on him so its a win win situation for you lol

fights with him:

kageyama is an angsty boy

so fights do regularly happen on the daily

it could be about the smallest things and you two would just BLOW UP

one time he accused you of stealing his milk when it was actually hinata

and the other time you said you’d rather do this rather than watch his game and poof another fight

sometimes when he’s feeling stressed, he’ll accidentally lash his anger on you

wrong move

cs you don’t back down to someone whos acting like a brat

and thus another fight

since he’s also kinda prideful, he wont say sorry first

and same goes to you

so there are days where you guys would just IGNORE each other like the other didn’t exist 

it’s a lot harder if you two do go to separate schools too

but its usually him who swallows his pride and goes up to you to apologize 

affection:

kags is obviously the type who’s more keen into actions than words

so he’ll show that he’ll love you with shit like hand holding, kisses, etc.

just physical affection tbh

like he just HAS to put an arm around you

it just works like that

like you two are those couples who literally hold hands when you two are writing something

JKADSDHAJKDHAHAK

but in private its a whole new story

who knew kags would be this clingy

for some reason i see him as touch deprived????

so once you show him how to cuddle, he’d be the small spoon

like he’s just laying on your tummy as you brush his hair and he talks abt his day or volleyball

its therapeutic for him uwu

gifts:

i dont see him as a materialistic person

like he doesnt buy you shit

as he doesnt buy himself shit too like HAVE YOU SEEN HIS HALF ASSED ROOM

but when he DOES, its the little things

its like keychains and shit

cs it reminds him of you

he’d only go all out when it was your anniversary with him or it’s your birthday

but its the thought that counts

dates:

i feel like he’s the type who doesnt want to go out when its dates

cs you can do it in the comfort of your own homes!

that and its tiring for him

so he just asks you to come over or he’ll come over at your house

and not that you’re complaining i mean its better than getting ready for hours to no end 

+++ you get to bond with his sister and vice versa

now he’s family BAHAHHA

your parents deadass say just marry the dude so you wont lose him uwuwuwuw

but he will ask you out to restaurants and shit when its vvv special like anniversaries n shit

and once in a blue moon to the theatres to watch a new movie

uwu

the end!!

[softieforshadowhunters]

closer

emma carstairs + julian blackthorn

read on archive of our own : https://archiveofourown.org/works/25920436

i’ve had this hc for a while that after the parabatai bond between emma and julian breaks, they would trace where their runes used to be ( julian’s on his chest, emma’s on her arm ) and it would be this really beautiful and intimate moment between them. here is that idea brought to life with a lot of fluff and kissing and happiness between them. enjoy!!

Emma woke with a start, the images of her nightmare still lingering in her mind: her parents’ bodies by the shore of the ocean; Julian, covered in blood, holding Livvy’s limp body against his chest; black lines webbing underneath her skin as the parabatai curse took root. A quick glance around brought her back to her senses; she was lying in bed, propped up on her elbows. She determined that she was in Julian’s room after seeing the mural painted on the far wall, its colors illuminated by the moonlight shining through the window. She looked down to find Julian sleeping soundly beside her.

Rather than returning her head to the warm place on his chest that she had been only seconds before, she allowed her eyes to linger on him a bit longer. His chocolate brown hair was beautifully tangled and adorably mussed, floating lightly on the pillow beneath his head. His eyelashes ghosted over his cheekbones and his lips were parted slightly looking very, very kissable to Emma, who smiled at the thought.

Her eyes continued their descent, taking in the flat panes of his stomach where his t-shirt had ridden up, fine white scars from used up runes and battle injuries spaced across the expanse of skin. His right hand lay gently on his stomach, his fingers spread out as though remembering the shape of Emma’s fingers that had been intertwined with his only moments before.

Emma found herself looking longingly at the place on his chest right above his heart. His shirt covered the skin there, but she could picture the shape of his parabatai rune through the fabric. The rune itself had faded when the bond had broken months ago, but she still found herself remembering its shape.

It wasn’t that she wished they were still bonded in that way, because that would mean they wouldn’t have what they had now — peaceful nights spent wrapped in each other’s arms, slow mornings when they stayed in bed trading laughs and kisses under the golden glow of the rising sun, and all the moments outside the privacy of their rooms, surrounded by their family and friends, moments where they could share their love openly and honestly. And yet, some nights she found herself tracing the faded outline of the rune, running her fingertips over the swirls, lightly grazing her nails against his skin, following the path that she knew by heart.

Without thinking, she allowed her fingers to travel up Julian’s chest where they began to dance across the fabric of his shirt in the shape of the parabatai rune. She lost herself in the dips and swirls of the pattern, her limbs heavy and her eyes half open. It wasn’t until Julian’s hand came up to cover her own that she jolted wide awake.

“I feel you tracing the rune each night,” he whispered into the space between them. She looked up at him in surprise — never once had he opened his eyes on the nights when her fingers found their way to his chest. His breathing was always deep and steady indicating a deep slumber. Even so, Emma figured she shouldn’t be surprised. Julian had been hiding his thoughts and lying all his life to protect his family. He knew how to school his features into indifference even when he was fuming with anger, steady his heartbeat even when his mind was racing, slow his breathing even when his body was tense with fear.

“Why haven’t you ever said anything?” she whispered back. The room was dark, the only light coming from the moon that was full in the sky. It felt like an intimate moment ��� his hand covering hers which lay against his chest, their bodies only shadows among shadows in the darkness. It would have felt wrong to speak in a volume louder than a soft whisper.

“Because,” Julian said, now propped up on his elbow so that his body was facing Emma’s, his gaze level with hers. “It seemed like a moment you wanted to have by yourself,” he said simply. “I didn’t want to deprive you of that.”

Emma suddenly felt the need to explain herself to him, although even she didn’t fully understand why she found herself tracing the rune on nights when she couldn’t sleep. “I’m not really sure why,” she began, looking into his ocean deep Blackthorn eyes. “It’s not that I don’t love what we have now or that I want us to be parabatai again or anything like that it’s just — I don’t know, honestly. I don't know how to explain it to you, it’s like there is something about it that just makes me — and I feel like I —“ She fell quiet, unable to find the words she needed, and looked at him helplessly. “I don’t know how to explain it,” she repeated, feeling defeated.

He gently squeezed Emma’s hand which still lay against his chest. He looked at her, eyes open and vulnerable. “Try,” he breathed. “Try. For me.”

She released a deep breath and nodded her head. She would try. For Julian, she would try. He sat up so that he was leaning against the headboard of the bed before he reached over to pull Emma into his lap, her knees on either side of his hips. Gently, he brought his arms around her, one hand resting on the curve of her hip, the other pressing against her lower back to pull her closer. The gentle pressure of his palm and the warmth of his touch made her feel safe. Safe enough to stumble over her words without embarrassment, to speak her thoughts out loud without fear that he would turn away. Wrapped in his arms, as safe as could be, she spoke.

“I remember,” she began. “I remember what it was like just a few months ago when we were still parabatai. I remember the agonizing pain and the overwhelming hopelessness. I saw other people who could love who they loved out in the open. And the thought that I would have to spend the rest of my life hiding what I felt for you — it was enough to drive me insane.”

Emma locked her eyes on the place right above Julian’s head, finding it impossible to look at him squarely while speaking about such pain. The words were flowing out of her now, a little disorganized on the surface but true at their heart.

“Just to think about it; that a decision that we made when we were twelve years old — totally and utterly broken children who had lost so much and who only had each other, who tied themselves together not knowing what their love would turn into — it was a decision that would trap us for the rest of our lives, impossibly close to one another in some ways and terribly far apart in others. I remember that pain, and the fact that I don’t feel that anymore brings me a happiness so great and so deep that it breaks me and holds me together all at once.

“But there is this other part of me, this other part that remembers what it was like to be tied so close to you that your pain was my pain and your thoughts were my thoughts. I remember how powerful I felt when we drew off of each other’s strength during battle. Our connection was so strong that one of us could heal the other’s wounds even when no other person could.”

Images of steles and skin and glowing iratzes flashed through Emma’s mind — Emma in Julian’s lap in the back of the Toyota, Julian holding Emma’s dying body on the battlefield before they went up in flames.

“I remember what it was like to be so intricately intertwined with you that we were practically one person, held together by parabatai magic. I remember that, and I miss that.

“And I know that we are still connected in other ways. I know that my heart will always be tied to yours. I know that I would still be lost without you — that hasn’t changed. But there was something about the parabatai bond — the physicality of it, the fact that your pain was my pain in the most literal sense. I felt you, Julian. Every second of every day I felt your presence. You were a part of me. Not just emotionally, but it was as though you were a cluster of cells in my body, a vital organ that I would die without. When we were parabatai, you weren’t just in my mind, you were in my bones.”

She took a shuddering breath before continuing. “And so sometimes, whenever I can’t sleep, I trace the outline of your rune and I remember what it felt like to be tied to you in that way. I know that there was a lot of heartbreak and a lot of pain that came with that rune, but there was a lot of good too. And now that the bond is broken and my heart feels whole, I can look past the pain and remember the overwhelming joy that I felt being your parabatai.”

She paused, unsure of how to finish. After a few seconds, she spoke again. “So maybe I just wanted to remember that.”

Emma took a deep breath in and held it as though she was preparing to get slapped; steeling herself for Julian’s reaction. And for a while, there was no reaction at all; he simply stared at her with such softness in his eyes that she thought she might melt right there in his lap. He reached one hand up to push a lock of hair behind her ear and his fingers lingered there; ghosting over her cheek. She kept herself still, arms straight by her sides, still waiting for him to speak. Finally, he did.

“I remember,” he said, brushing his lips across her cheek. “I remember our parabatai ceremony. I could barely get the words of the oath out of my mouth because I was looking at you, surrounded by heavenly fire and you looked so beautiful that I couldn’t breathe, let alone speak.” He dipped his head and began planting kisses across her jawline, from the bottom of her ear to her chin.

“I remember sitting on the beach with you one day only a few months after our ceremony. You took your hair out of its braid and the sun hit the strands just perfectly and this wave of desire hit me so hard that the whole world fell away and it was just you.” His lips were on her neck now, soft and gentle like his voice. Emma tilted her head back slightly allowing him access and her hands found their way tentatively to his shoulders.

“I remember when you healed me in the back of our beat-up Toyota. I remember the sparks that shot through my body when you sat in my lap and touched your stele to my skin. I was trying so hard not to show it — how just your body touching mine made me fall apart. But you were looking at me with this wild look in your eyes and I couldn’t keep myself from pulling you closer.” He leaned in and whispered against her skin just one word, over and over. “Closer,” he breathed. “Closer. Closer. Closer.” She shivered at the feeling of his lips brushing against her skin as he formed the words, his hot breath setting fire to her bones.

“And I remember dancing with you at the Midnight Theater and I swear I would have kissed you right then and there. I didn’t even care about all those people around us. All I saw was you. All I ever see is you.”

Emma’s fingers wound themselves into the curls of his hair, her breathing growing heavy and ragged. Her nails scraped gently at his scalp which pulled a hum of pleasure from the boy beneath her. Her lips began to move on their own accord, the words escaping in a desperate whisper. “I love you,” she said. “I love you. I love you.”

At her words, he straightened up. His face was hidden in shadow, but his eyes sparkled in the moonlight that streamed through the window. They were the color of the ocean on a stormy night, depth and darkness hidden beneath the surface. “I love you,” he breathed into the space between them. “I love you. I love you.”

Unable to wait a second longer, she pulled him in close and their lips met. Emma felt as though she was moving in slow motion. She felt sparks everywhere they touched — every part of her lips, from the center out to the corners and every place in-between, her back where the heat of his palms spread up her spine and across her shoulder blades as he moved his hands across the fabric of her tank top. Even her fingers, still buried in his hair, sizzled with energy.

Her mouth opened up over his and when they reconnected, it was as though everything had sped up. She suddenly wanted more, needed more. “Closer,” she pleaded against his lips. “Closer. Closer.” Her fingers pulled at the collar of his t-shirt and she was dragging it over his head before he even had time to pull away from the kiss.

Julian chuckled softly at her sudden desperation, which turned into genuine laughter when the shirt caught under his chin and Emma cursed in frustration. Finally, she pulled the shirt over his head with an exclamation of excitement and tossed it carelessly to the floor. His brown curls were ruffled now from both the t-shirt and the work of her fingers. He was unbearably beautiful, bare-chested and messy-haired.

Julian’s laughter faded when he saw the look on Emma’s face. Her eyes were dark with desire, her chest rising and falling quickly, her lips slightly parted. They sat in silence and lost themselves in each other’s eyes, the sound of their breaths in sync was all that could be heard. Slowly, Julian moved his hands underneath Emma’s shirt and ran his fingers up and down the bare skin of her sides, his gaze never leaving hers.

Looking into Julian’s eyes, every thought left her mind except for one word: Closer. Swiftly, she caught the hem of her tank top and pulled it over her head, leaving the upper half of her body completely exposed. And yet she felt completely safe in Julian’s arms. She wanted nothing more than for him to know every inch of her. Her heart was free of fear, too full of love and desire to have room for anything else.

Julian’s gaze was still locked with hers, although his breathing was more labored now than it was when she had her shirt on. She smirked at him, finding joy in the idea that she had that kind of power over him. Planning to take full advantage of it, she pulled him flush against her, the skin of their bare chests hot against each other. He growled in her ear and she laughed, pulling away from him.

In an attempt to take back the control she had stolen, Julian caught her mouth in a kiss and firmly gripped her hips before flipping them so that he was propped over her, his chest against hers, their hips locked together, their feet tangled in the sheets below. He caught her bottom lip between his teeth and tugged gently, eliciting a moan from Emma’s parted lips.

“Closer,” she whispered again. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him in, claiming his mouth with her own. Over and over, Julian’s mouth opened over Emma’s and over and over their lips met in a clash of heat and desperation. Eventually, Julian pulled away and turned his attention to the places that her shirt had revealed. His lips traveled from her throat down in between her breasts and even further down her stomach, leaving open-mouthed kisses in his wake. Emma had her hands in his hair, keeping him close against her, whispering his name into the darkness. “Julian, Julian.”

When he reached the top of her shorts, he paused and looked up at her. Emma’s body was screaming at her to tell him to keep going, her skin begging for the touch of his lips. But the picture before her was one she wanted to savor forever, and she allowed herself to take it in. Julian, her Julian, with a tousled mop of brown hair that fell across his forehead, his ocean blue eyes looking up at her through his dark eyelashes, his cheeks flushed with color, his body pressed against hers, his fingers running lightly over her sides.

He dipped his head and planted a soft, lingering kiss on her hip bone and Emma shuddered at the intimacy of the gesture. She reached down towards him, her fingers seeking to touch his face as she pleaded, “Closer.”

He turned his eyes up towards hers and was just beginning to push himself up onto his hands to climb on top of her when a cry pierced the air, dragging them out of the fog of desire they had lost themselves in.

“Tavvy,” Julian groaned before collapsing against Emma, his head laying on her stomach. She laughed at his pouting and reached down to run her hands through his hair. For a few seconds, neither of them moved, content to simply be close to each other. Their inhales and exhales paired together and their hearts found the same beat. With a heavy sigh, Julian lifted himself up and pulled Emma in for one final, deep kiss before breaking away.

“Go to sleep, my love,” he whispered. “I’ll be back soon.” He held her close and pressed a kiss to her forehead before turning away. Emma’s heart ached as he closed the door behind him, but more than anything she felt love. Julian would always put his family first, and she would do the same, for they were her family too.

She smiled at the thought, giddy with a happiness that she never thought she would feel. Her skin was still warm where Julian had touched her and the bedsheets were cool against her bare skin. She lay her head against the pillow and closed her eyes. Knowing that the boy she loved the most in the world would be coming back to her soon, she fell into a peaceful sleep.

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

The creak of the door woke Emma from her slumber. Although her back was to the entrance, she recognized Julian’s soft footsteps as he crossed the room. She felt the mattress shift underneath her as he climbed into bed beside her, pulling the covers over his body. He reached out to her and pulled her against him. Their legs and feet comfortably intertwined under the sheets and Emma adjusted her position, curling her head into his chest, his arm coming up to wrap around her waist. He settled beside her, a soft exhale escaping from his lips. Under the cover of darkness, Emma leaned forwards and pressed her lips to his chest, right above his heart where his faded parabatai rune was painted white against his skin.

“I love you,” she whispered, leaning her forehead against the place she had kissed. He simply pulled her closer in response. Closer. Closer. Closer.

[jehaatiade]

:,) a humble ask for hc’s for Din, Ezra, and Javier admitting they love you in an angsty situation :,)

This took me hours but it came together so well! Thank you for the wonderful prompt!

Din:

he has mixed feelings about taking you along on bounties. you’re the rare combination of a talented bounty hunter and a person who’s never tried to cheat him.

but on the other hand… the possibility of coming back from a hunt without you makes something deep in his chest ache.

you make him laugh. you like him, but you’ve never pushed him to take off his helmet. you make the Razor Crest and the flight time between planets seem more alive.

he’s kissed you. more than once. but only as a Mandalorian, the cold beskar of his helmet against your forehead. he doesn’t know if you understand what that means.

the two of you are on a nameless dump of a moon where the grey salt flats are studded with wreckage from a space battle, tracking a pirate with a hefty bounty on his head, when it happens.

you get a single glimpse of the pirate before there’s a hail of blaster bolts headed in your direction. you both take cover, and the Mando uses terse field signs to lay out his plan: you go right and flush him out. i’ll go left and take him down.

the plan does not come together nicely. in fact, the plan does not come together at all.

the mark is harder to scare than you expected, and by the time you’re in range to force him out from behind his cover, you’re close enough that he can grab you.

it’s a little embarrassing, honestly. you haven’t been in a choke-hold with a blaster to your head since you were sixteen and stupid.

“Let her go,” the Mando says. despite the anger in his tone, his voice is even and his aim doesn’t waver. you’ve admired that rifle since the first time you saw it: the faint iridescence of its prongs, the elegant curve of its stock, the meticulous modifications to its forestock. you’ve never had it pointed at you before.

“Of course, my friend,” the pirate says. “Because I have survived this long by being incredibly foolish. No, she is coming with me. If you ask nicely, I may even leave her in one piece once I reach my ship. If you try to interfere…”

he makes a nonchalant who knows? gesture, and for a second the barrel of his blaster isn’t pressed against your head.

you haven’t been sixteen and stupid for a long time. the heel of your boot comes down on his instep with as much force as you can muster, and when his hold weakens, you drive your elbow back into his nose.

the pirate crumples into a groaning heap at your feet. the Mando lowers his rifle. you make a show of dusting off your hands, because no one has ever accused you of lacking a sense of drama.

it looks like the Mando wants to say something - you can see it in his posture - but he doesn’t, so you fill the silence. “Don’t tell me you were worried, Mando,” you tease. “Like you’d miss me bouncing around the Crest’s cargo hold making a mess every time we go somewhere. You just love having me around.” 

you’re not expecting him to reply, so you take the binders off your belt and bend to cuff the pirate. when you straighten, the Mando is right next to you.

“Yes,” he says. “I was worried. Yes, I would miss you. Yes. I love you.”

for once, you’re speechless, so you just watch your smile grow in the reflection of his visor. then you lean just a little bit forward, closing the gap and pressing your forehead to his.

(and then the pirate at your feet snickers, and you kick him in the ribs.)

Ezra:

taking this job has been one of your worst decisions to date. and of course, you did it because Ezra talked you into it.

“An absolutely unprecedented adventure, little bird!” he’d said. “A moon still molten from the fires of creation, spitting up gems like a baby with a colic? The harvest will be unparalleled; with the right gear, we will stroll through the lava fields collecting Niobe’s roses as easily as if we were berry-picking.”

it is, of course, not that easy.

calling the Red Moon molten is not an affectation; its broken crust oozes lava like a slow-clotting cut. you’re here for rhodoniobium, beautiful silver blooms that appear on the surface of the lava flows. it isn’t difficult to use the nets and poles to retrieve Niobe’s roses. what’s hard is staying alive while you do it. miners die in ugly ways every single day, and they’re rarely mourned.

liquid water is a thing of fantasy down here, for the most part, and everyone is forced to return to the base camp at Kīpuka when they run out. that’s where the two or you are headed when you get separated.

you’ve been examining plutonic rock formations since you arrived, looking for evidence of pegmatite mineral inclusions: rubies, sapphires, emeralds and other beryl gems. sure, they don’t sell for as much as Niobe’s roses, but you’ve never been able to resist sparklies. 

Ezra usually indulges you, but in this case, he’s been looking forward to a bath for two weeks. so when you stop to chip a sample from a smooth dome of granite, he keeps walking. you don’t think anything of it, figuring you’ll catch up to him, until a sharp “Shit!” comes through over the comm.

“Are you all right?” you ask, quickly starting to pack up your tools.

“Hardly the finest way to introduce oneself, taking pot-shots at innocent passersby,” Ezra says, his voice fuzzy with distance. “If you have had your entertainment, I would be much gratified to be permitted to pass.”

you abandon your tools and set out after him at a run as a much younger man says “This is our gorge, and if you want to pass through to Kīpuka, then you’re going to have to pay our toll.”

“I am always enthusiastic to participate in the civil preservation of infrastructure, have no doubt,” Ezra assures the men who you suspect are holding him under rails. “My partner is a ways behind, and she is carrying our meager pickings. You’ll allow me to contact her and request her presence?”

a grunt of agreement, and a short pause, before Ezra’s voice comes through more clearly on your private channel. “May I assume you’ve been listening, little bird?”

“Yeah,” you pant. your lungs are starting to burn, and you’d be tempted to throw off your heavy insulating gear if you didn’t know that the average air temperature around here is high enough to bake bread. “How many?”

“Four. Alas, more than I feel confident dispatching alone.”

“Almost there. I’ll come in over the ridge. Be ready to draw.”

“I always am.” there’s a pause, and at first you think he’s finished. then your comm crackles again. “If this goes wrong, little bird-”

“Don’t,” you say, because it feels like bad luck.

“I love you. Most ardently. If I die here, then I die happy to have known you.”

the only thing you can say is “Damn it, Ezra.” because you can’t wipe the tears from your eyes, and that’s going to make shooting these bastards just that little bit more difficult. he laughs softly, and clicks back to the public channel.

Ezra chats away with the bandits, distracting them with that awful anecdote about the channelrats while you close the last small distance to the ridge above the gorge. you crawl to the edge, thrower rifle cradled in your arms, and take a sniper’s position.

“I’m almost there,” you say over the public channel. “Is everything all right?”

“Of course, little bird.” You can’t see Ezra’s smile, but you can hear it in his voice. He’s ready.

it goes very quickly, as most gunfights do: you push a stone over the edge to start a small rockslide, the bandits turn toward the noise, and you shoot the two men lounging in the shade while Ezra shoots the two standing in front of him.

“Ezra? You know what?” you ask once the bodies have hit the ground.

“What?”

“In spite of the fact that you have damned awful timing, I love you, too.”

Javi:

as Javier yells at you, you wonder idly if Murphy can hear you upstairs. “You could’ve been killed!”

“Just because you couldn’t have made it out of there, doesn’t mean I couldn’t!”

“And what the fuck is that supposed to mean?” he hisses, stepping closer.

you shove him back. “It mean you strut around Colombia flashing your badge and shooting sicarios like that’s what you get paid for! You’ve got Kiki Camarena keeping you safe. You know what I’ve got? A fucking press pass! If my cover’s blown, I get auctioned to the highest bidder and tortured to death!”

“Which is exactly why you should know better than to go sniffing around Escobar’s planes!”

“I don’t tell you how to do your goddamned job, Javi! Don’t you try and tell me how to do mine!”

Javi snarls and digs the packet of cigarettes out of his breast pocket, tossing it carelessly on the couch once he extracts one.

“You’re upset because I could’ve died?” you ask derisively as he lights his cigarette. “Let me tell you something. You, breaking in guns drawn because you think you’re rescuing me, are a lot more likely to get me killed than any mistake I could make.”

“Shut up,” he growls. he won’t look at you as you move closer.

“What is your problem? If this is still about those papers on the guerrillas-”

he shakes his head and turns away. you fucking hate it when he does this, pulling away from an argument rather than just fighting it through to the end.

“Then what?” you demand. if he’s going to disengage, then maybe you need to hit the right buttons to make him change his mind. “Don’t tell me you’re pissed off because you’ve finally realized I really am a better operator than you-”

“Because I love you!”

Javi’s outburst startles you, and you take a step back without thinking about it. he sighs, the tense lines of his shoulders going lax, and turns to face you again.

“Because I love you,” he says more softly. “Because I don’t know what to do without you any more, and that scares me more than any narco son of a bitch. Because I can’t even imagine what I would do if you were killed. Just the thought makes me feel sick.”

“Javi…” you whisper.

he shakes his head to stop you. “You want to know why, every time you come here, I ask you how your articles are doing? It’s because I have this-” he huffs out a helpless laugh. “- idiotic, ridiculous fantasy that one day, you’ll do so well that you’ll leave the agency and actually be a journalist for a living. And you’ll come and live with me, and I won’t have to wonder if you’re dead every time you go longer than a week between calling me.”

“Javi,” you say again. when you take the cigarette from his loose grasp to put it down in the ashtray, he raises his hand to rub his knuckles against his eyes. “You’re right. Part of your fantasy is ridiculous.”

“Only part, huh?” he doesn’t quite manage to make his sarcastic smile look sincere.

“Yeah. The part where you don’t seem to realize that all you have to do is ask.” you cup the strong angle of his jaw and lean in, almost nose to nose. “All you have to do is ask.”

“Why would you want to stay with me?” he asks. “I’m an asshole. I work too much. I’d just make you sick of me.”

“Because I love you,” you say, and kiss him.

[yandere-romanticaa]

Can I request HC’s of the 2p FACE family how they fell in love with there s/o and how they got them to date them. Love your work 💗

Yandere! 2p FACE // Scenarios

♡ 2p! France ♡

Francois would have a difficult time with wooing his s/o. When he first met them he had no idea what to do. He was pretty lazy and careless and he bearly took care of himself, let alone another human being. But when he first saw s/o something in him just clicked. He felt weird, he felt true joy for the first time in years.

So he made it his ultimate mission to make s/o his.

He is a very wealthy man, and he will pay people to follow his s/o around if he can't do it himself. The men have to take pictures but they must not be spotted by any means necessary. He quickly learns everything about his love and he will use it to his advantage.

One day he'll show up at a little café that s/o frequented. He would buy them a drink and would introduce himself. When he first heard s/o voice, his heart stopped beating in his chest for a good five seconds. François bearly got back to his senses, but thankfully s/o did not notice his momenteral distress. In that moment François realized that he must protect s/o, kidnap them even. But he won't get there just yet, he first will use his rugged charm on them. There is something oddly comforting about François. The the heavy smell of cigarettes and cologne will overpower s/o's senses and they will listen to everything François has to say.

From that day forward the two would always meet up at the same time, at the same café. François and s/o would discuss all about sorts of things, ranging from movies, books, hobbies, everything. Even if François looks uninterested or even downright bored at times, be assured that he is carefully listening to every word that s/o says.

One day though, everything changes when s/o mention that they have a crush on someone, and that someone isn't François.

Well shit.

François will quickly leave the café, leaving a confused s/o behind. He is furious. He is furious at himself for not acting sooner, and at the bastard that dared to take s/o's affection from him. That poor bastard will be found dead the next morning, brutally murdered. Naturally, s/o will be devastated by these news. When they turn to François for comfort, he'll be over the moon. That same night he will drug his s/o and lock them up in a nicely decorated room. The room has everything s/o could ever need and want, besides the Internet and freedom of course. When s/o wakes up and starts to cry, François is quick to tell them that they can be together now. He'll confess what he did as he hold his s/o tightly in his arms.

He can finally be with his sweet angel, and nothing can ruin this moment. Nothing.

♡ 2p! America ♡

Allen is pretty aggressive and straight forward about his crush. He will openly and shamelessly flirt with his s/o like his life depends on it. He also likes giving his s/o cute little gifts such as a teddy bear or a cool shirt he found. But what he especially likes is when s/o wears his jacket. s/o's scent always lingers on it and Allen absolutely loves it.

Depending on what kind of s/o Allen is after, he could easily charm them. If s/o is more free spirited and open, s/o will like his boisterous attitude. But if s/o is more on the quiet side, Allen won't mind. He loves a good challenge.

Mini adventures with Allen are pretty common and each is unique in it's own way, and all are equally memorable. After a while though, Allen will become more possessive of s/o. He will always want to know what are their plans, where will they go and with who. He'll claim that it's for their own good, that he just wants to protect them.

In reality, Allen is just terrified that s/o will find someone better then him and that they'll leave him for that person. Allen will soon start having horrible nightmares about s/o leaving him and he just can't take it anymore. He confesses how he truly feels, and to his surprise s/o accepts his feelings. The first couple of months everything will be perfect with Allen, aside from the occasional jealous outburst. But Allen isn't quite satisfied. He is horribly obsessive and possessive, and he will start following s/o around everywhere they go and he will never leave them alone. He quickly sets up security cameras in s/o's house, hidden of course.

Due to his possessive tendencies, Allen will snap and will kill every person he deems a treat to his and s/o's relationship. s/o will also notice that something is horribly wrong with Allen. He isn't the same person anymore, he is much more aggressive towards everyone and is much more snappy towards s/o.

The final straw was when s/o confronted Allen and told him that their relationship was over.

At first, Allen said nothing. He just stood like a statue while his eyes were glued on the floor. After a few awkward moments of standing around, s/o will try to leave the house, but not before Allen snaps back out of his daze and looks straight in to s/o's eyes.

That look in his eyes was the most terrifying thing s/o had ever seen. His eyes held so many different emotions within them. Anger, fury, worry... That's when he'll mumble a quiet "I love you" under his breath. But the fury is quickly replaced with insanity as Allen starts cackling like a mad man. He reaches for his baseball bat and knocks s/o out cold. He will make sure that the only person s/o ever loves is him, even if it costs him his sanity.

♡ 2p! Canada ♡

When Mattieu first saw s/o, he didn't much about them. Just a really cute stranger, that's all. When they first conversed in a store though, that's when s/o catches his attention. Mattieu didn't speak much, but he liked hearing s/o's voice. It was like music to his ears, he felt like he could listen to it forever. But he didn't want to rush in to things, after all s/o was still a stranger.

Some time passed after Mattieu and s/o's conversation, but he just couldn't for the life of him get them out of his head. He wanted to hear s/o's wonderful voice again, even if it was just for a second. And that's when he heard it. He heard s/o laughing not too far away from him. But that's when he also saw the person next to s/o.

They were hugging. And kissing.

...no big deal. It was natural for a person like s/o to be in a relationship. No big deal, right? Then... Why did Mattieu felt like punching the bastard? Why did he felt like bashing him with his hockey stick right then and there? He had no idea why and Mattieu quickly left.

A few days after that encounter, Mattieu felt strange. His heart literally ached and it wouldn't stop. Deep down he knew that he needed to see s/o, he just knew! Mattieu is a huge stalker, but he is still somewhat shy. He feels a bit self conscious about approaching his s/o and he has no idea how he was able to hold a normal conversation with them. In a way, Mattieu does know what he is doing is wrong. He knows that he shouldn't be following s/o around like this, like some creep but he just can't help himself. He needs to see s/o, one way or another.

His entire routine will soon change so that he can keep a better eye on s/o. But every passing day, the hatred for s/o's lover grows more and more intense. He just wants the idiot out of the picture as soon as possible and Mattieu will start plotting. He'll lure s/o's lover in to the woods and play with them for a little bit. He just wants to understand why, why would s/o fall for someone this weak? He wasn't even in the forest for more then 10 minutes and he already got stuck in a bear trap! If this idiot couldn't take care of himself, how the Hell was he going to take care of s/o?! Mattieu gives the bastard a slow and painful death. He wants him to feel the same kind of pain he felt when he saw s/o kissing or just generally being around this guy.

When the body is found and identified, s/o would be crushed. They refuse to leave their house for days, but that's when the letters start arriving. They were pretty simple at the beginning, only containing a small heart that was drawn on the paper. But over time there will be some things written on the letters. Again, Mattieu is still pretty shy about the idea of talking to his s/o, but this was a decent way to express his feelings. At the time s/o will not accept Mattieu's feelings because of the death of their previous lover, but unlike the rest of the 2p! family, Mattieu actually has patience.

He'll wait patiently for s/o to recover, all the while sending them the sweetest letters he could write. Mattieu and s/o will eventually get together, but s/o never learned the truth about who really ended their previous lovers life...

♡ 2p! England ♡

Oliver met his s/o when they stopped by his bakery. And right from the start Oliver is completely smitten by them. He just finds s/o extremely precious, from their manurisms to the way they talk, everything! Since Oliver has a really cute bakery with really delicious baked goods, s/o will be a regular customer.

He loves developing new recepies and he loves feeding his s/o. His day always gets much brighter when s/o comes to him. Oliver will gladly help s/o with anything they need, from homework to chores, Oliver will do his best to make s/o's life at least a little bit easier!

With Oliver it will start out as a puppy crush. His s/o will constantly be on his mind, so much so that he sometimes can't even work properly! He sometimes gets tounge tied when speaking with s/o, but s/o finds that indearing rather then awkward. It's really hard not fall for a sweetheart like Oliver, and s/o will soon confess to Oliver.

The second Oliver heard this he started to cry tears of joy and he twirled s/o around in the air. He also told s/o about how he felt and that's how the relationship started. But everything was just so intense with Oliver. Of course, he was always the perfect gentleman and he made sure that s/o was happy but something just felt off about him.

Whenever s/o would bring a friend over to Oliver's bakery, he would start to act strangely. On the surface he is his usual friendly self but one good look in his eyes and pure madness could be seen in them. This went on for a while until s/o asked Oliver what was wrong with him. Naturally, Oliver said that he is fine and that he couldn't be happier since he has the perfect partner by his side. But s/o's friends also noticed that Oliver seemed off lately.

One day, some of s/o's friends came to the bakery but nobody was inside which was really weird. The moment they stepped inside the strong smell of sugar and some other weird substance hit their nostrils. The smell was coming from the basement and everyone climbed down. What they found was horrible.

In the middle of the room was Oliver, but he had a bloody knife in his hand and his clothes were bloody as well. And in front of Oliver was a mangled corpse. Everyone screamed as Oliver laughed. The group started to run, but Oliver was faster. He locked the door and quickly knocked out everyone.

The next day when s/o came, Oliver offered them some new cupcakes to try. The moment s/o put them in their mouth, they felt like gagging. These cupcakes were weird and they had a strong metallic taste too. When s/o asked Oliver what did he put in the cupcakes he told them that it is a secret, bit s/o could see it if they followed him to the basement. Not really thinking about it, s/o wordlessly followed Oliver.

It was pitch black in the basement, but that metallic smell was much stronger in the basement. When s/o asked Oliver if they could leave, Oliver quickly covered their mouth and turned on the lights. In the basement were s/o's friends, completely mutilated. Oliver cackled like a madman as he watched s/o who was desperately trying to open the basement door, but with no success.

The look of pure terror on s/o's face was adorable to Oliver. And now, he can look at it every single day!

[convertidophoto]

A First foray in Space...

I’ve been thinking a lot about space lately.  No, not stars, blood moons, or black holes and the like but space as in venues, as in the common areas open to all.  The space where you, I, and others meet to interact. Yeah, that kind of space.  It seems to me that in some instances we are using it all wrong.  Perhaps you agree, perhaps you think I think too much, or perhaps you think I am thinking about something that requires no thought at all.  Well…as it happens at the gig Friday night someone brought up this very topic.  They asked me if I went to see (insert metallic HC band name here) at “the Post” the other night.  He said that it was one of the most violent shows he ever saw; dudes (yes nearly all men) were laying waste to each other while the band played. Oh, how the stars align.

 I am not sure where the kung fu dancing style at HC shows first appeared.  The acquisition of this fact is of little importance to me and I think I’ll live without that curiosity being satisfied.  What does concern me is what it portends for what I thought was a foundational principle of punk/hc/whatever-you-wanna-call-it (this thing we all do).  That principle being that a punk/hc show was our show and our space; it belonged to no one person or group; instead belonged to everyone who attended the show. The swinging arms, flying kicks, reckless thrown elbows, destroy utterly this idea by creating malicious enclaves [barriers] between the band and the audience.  I know, I know, I don’t get it, I’m old, I’m weak, or maybe it is that my kung fu just isn’t up to snuff, or maybe…just maybe, bear with me…cuz it might pain you to imagine such things…I’m right.  

Here’s the scene, you’re at the show really excited to see the bands.  Maybe you’ve heard the band, seen them before, or your ‘bro’ hipped you to them and you’re there to check ‘em out.  The band takes the stage, turns on their rigs, gives you cannibal come vegan snarl before launching into the sickest riff you’ve heard since that Slayer riff that sounds oh-so-close to what you’re digging now was released…then it happens.

Out of the darkness, you see what looks like a self-defense demonstration.  Fists and elbows fly without hesitation, that dude in the short-shorts is swinging his leg around with such speed that you are sure he’s part windmill.  Other participants tuck up and throw hands and mule kicks at imaginary attackers besetting them from all sides. Before you know it, the entire crowd has fled from the stage.  Cramming themselves into every inch of the periphery with arms held high to protect their faces from the mayhem.  The crowd forgets about Constipated Cookie Monster and the Beatdown Five providing the jams and who are pounding the stage like silverback gorillas in need of anger management.   When you finally feel comfortable enough to focus on the band you realize that the majority of the space for the crowd is monopolized by a dozen or so “dancers” and the remainder of the crowd is forced far from the band.  Mood killed and the show that you wanted to see so badly is now a bad memory which you wish never to repeat.

To many this sounds like an awesome time and mores the pity a typical show.  To others, myself included, this sounds absolute shit.  Whether or not the band is good or bad, is worth seeing again, or any other information gleamed from watching a band has been supplanted by the inevitable question, is staying in this room to see this band worth losing my teeth or getting knocked the fudge-out?  Those questions are nothing new and have been asked since the first guy staged dove (stage-dived? Oh, where are my punk rock grammarians at?) into the crowd.  What makes a substantive difference to me is the way in which space is used.

Punk/hc is visceral form of expression that in many cases lacks, utterly, any sense of subtlety.  As the form evolved from the late 1970s UK punk and The Ramones style retro-rock into 80s USHC the reaction to the music changed as well.  This is not unexpected as the inherit urgency of HC drives people to move without regard for themselves or others.  This trend continued with the expansion and popularization of HC.  The advent of crossover only worked to increase the ways in which the music elicited reactions in its expanding audience.  Pogoing was replaced by slam dancing and stage diving which became (?) moshing [whatever the hell that is anyway?!?!] by the late 80s.  Some bands eschewed the physical aspects of punk/hc and issued a challenge to their audiences (Fugazi) while others tired of violence that occasioned their shows and moved towards other audiences (7Seconds).  These changes coupled with the inevitable ending HC of other bands, the sound people wanted/loved/expected/demanded was hard to find.

Out of this vacuum came the explosion of late 80s HC bands, mostly SxE, who wanted to revert back to the pre-crossover style of HC and all that came with it.  At the same time, those people moved by the crossover thing kept progressing trying to make heavier and more ‘heavy and powerful’ records.  Then one day it happened, someone somewhere created the riff that played with just the right drumbeat moved people to stomp around then someone started swing their arms or legs and voila you have whatever-fudge kind of dancing they call it.  It may never have been equated before but punk/hc shows are a lot like real estate, location matters.  

The closer to the stage one can get at a show the better says I. Being able to see, to hear, and to feel (yes, we talking about feelings) the music is the purest way to enjoy any performance.  Plus up the front by the stage packed side by side with all the others wanting the experience, can create a collective sense of shared experience that remains bigger than any single show.  The shared sense of release, of elation, and of expression between the band and the crowd is strongest nearest the band.  The farther you move from the stage the less effect the band has on the room.

Not everyone wants to be up front smashed together being sweated upon, spat upon, spilled upon, jumped on, knocked around, and generally battered about while interacting with others also trying to enjoy the performance in its purest form.  Some people are not terribly interested in the bands performance; they are just there to dance, to slam, to mosh, or whatever the hell you call it.  The band is nothing but a soundtrack to release. Don’t get me wrong, to each their own…it’s not my thing (anymore) but I can see the necessity of just exorcising all the pent up emotions, piques, frustrations, and energies that punctuate life. Have at it y’all and ‘¡fuck it up __(insert name of city/state/scene here)___ style!’  All the young punks love a bit of that as the saying goes…

Behind the sing-a-long crowd and the dancing fools is the people who want to see the band, experience the music but would really prefer to be knocked around by kids who do not share the same fears about health insurance deductibles or the fragility of “old bones”.  In the back, there a bit more talking, visiting, seeing that person they’ve not seen since the last time (insert band here) played, also beverages flow freely and are consumed more responsibly (suggesting fewer spills not less liver damage).  Frankly, if one wants to be honest it is probably these people that bought tickets in advance and upon whose beer sales the venues counts to make a profit from the show. [drink up y’all!!]

I know, I know this a very general example and crowds are rarely described this easily.  The point I am trying to make remains apparent though.  The collective space of the show, the venue, is divided up amongst the crowd and inside the finite area the space is shared.  Everyone has their space to react and to interact with the band and everyone else in attendance.  If you want to be right on the stage as close as possible to be splashed with beer, sweat, and be spat upon by the guitarist from Night Birds or accidentally smacked upside the head by the singer of Scream or bass player of Econochrist (true stories y’all…for reals) then have it.  If, however, that is not your thing and you just want to go nuts dancing then back it up a few feet and go off.  Of course, if none of this appeals to you and all you really want to do is see that band that does it for you then you’ll likely be nearer the back.  Sharing is caring y’all, it isn’t always pretty or fair but it making use of a public space for mutual benefit.  In stark contrast to the above sits any live video of a beatdown/metalcore type band.  

YouTube is replete with videos where huge swaths of space are devoted to a dozen or so people engaged in what appears to be a synchronized martial arts demonstration or an attack by a swarm of invisible bees.  What is readily apparent at these shows is how the few “dancers” have pushed the rest of the crowd to the periphery of the venue.  There are few to no people at the stage experiencing the show.  All those people not “dancing” are trying to balance between watching the band and watching the dancers; undoubtedly they are doing so out of self-defense and for the inevitable train wreck that is foot to head or hand to head contact.  

In this exercise I see only one group telling another ‘this is how you will use this space, disagree at your own peril’.  Admittedly, I highly doubt any such an utterance emerged from the mouth or mind of any participant.  It never had to, the effect is the same.  What was once ours is now theirs and that isn’t cool.    

Slow your roll young blood…I’m not saying I know what punk is (can anyone really?) and I’m not saying anything negative about any individual, group, band, scene, etc. though clearly I am having a bit of a laugh at your silly asses.  What I’m saying is that what is happening with the use of space at some shows is self-defeating, selfish, and in the long-run a dead end for expression.  

Let’s really drive this point home shall we…no ambiguity, no mincing words, nothing left to chance or lost in translation…Lest you think I am picking on other forms of expression (personal or musical), or annoyingly kvetching about a style of music I don’t like (I’m not), let me be clear…I am only noting that the way in which the public space is used at one type of show occasioned by this style of dancing is not about shared use.  The way in which one small group dominates that space open to all appears to me to be antithetical to all that I believed punk was to be which was a liberating movement and a leveling force opening up avenues of expression to those previously shut out of venues for creative expression.  

QED vatos!

[becomestorm]

DRAGON FAUNUS HC COMPILATION.

previous compilation was written here over two years ago. these headcanons only apply to my specific interpretation of ren, if your muse deals with dragon faunus lore, you’re not obligated to acknowledge them. as another disclaimer, ren’s headcanoned faunus heritage, while is a large part of their portrayal, is not the most vital or a pinnacle element of it. it was something that i added because i thought that it would be interesting, but i want to make it clear that i never intend to detract from canonical or oc faunus muses’ struggles.

the initial reason i wanted to make ren a dragon faunus was because i wanted to somehow include mushu in my portrayal. there were other more complicated reasons i felt inclined to do it, including parts of a thesis i was working on at a time analysing the historical accuracies involving mulan’s confusian oriented belief system and it’s representations on the hun army in the disney movie, but none of them were as profound and simple as this post. the primary reason i choose to keep ren a dragon faunus is because it is heavily implied the spirit of the great stone dragon was imbued into mulan before joining the war.

ren’s faunus trait is a pair of ivory horns. a lot of mistrali based dragons have horns similar to antlers, and ren’s will eventually do that come professional huntsman verse, splinter into antlers i mean. when ren was a child, in an act of violence by faunus poachers, their horns were broken off. because their anatomy is a mixture of antler, soft bone, and keratin, ren’s horns would grow back in time, but it would take a long time especially since up until a year or two before beacon ren was filing them down in order to avoid being harassed. dragon horns, whether eastern or western styled, fetch a hefty price on the black market.

it’s a common thread of dragon faunus mythology that they descended from dragon shifters. of course, words were muddled up along the way, and there are many many variations of these myths. the magically protected remnants of the old world in the brother’s time left some supposed evidence that faunus, the new race, were the descendants of the depicted brother gods who often were portrayed in their bestial forms : dragons. just like the stories of the maidens were lost to time, so too were the remains and beliefs in the brother gods. but one superstition still remains among dragon faunus society, and it is that western dragon faunus are often depicted as terrifying malevolent creatures ( modelled after the god of darkness ), while eastern dragon are regularly depicted as wise and benevolent ( modelled after the god of light. )

because in this house we say “fuck you” to the one trait rule, i headcanon that dragon faunus have one main trait, and then a bunch of sub traits which greatly alter their physiology. main dragon traits are often flashy : horns, wings, tail, and / or an excess of scales. for example an important signature trait of dragon faunus is the ability to breathe fire, which separates them from any other reptile faunus. dragon faunus are born with a special venom reservoir ( what the venom is made of is a mystery, but ren theorises that it is actual liquid aura with some similar attributes to fire dust ) which leaks into the fangs. when the venom leaks out of the fangs and catalyses with oxygen, it becomes a flammable gas / smoke ( not harmful to anyone inhaling it ) meant to react to flint. dragon faunus are born with a gap in their gums specifically to place either flint or a piece of dust in there in order to breath fire. ( because of this, dragon faunus are resistant to the negative effects of dust ingestion. )

the amount of dragon faunus venom produced, and the muscles associated with the reservoir react to adrenaline, an increased heart rate, as well as an instinctive urge to bite. this makes the four major states of increased smoke production anger, nervousness, happiness, and arousal. the smoke itself is a different scent depending on the person, as it is theorised the venom is made from aura, the scent is as unique as the aura itself. ren’s smoke smells like lily incense. ren has a good sense of control over their smoke. not only does their semblance help them with controlling their emotions, but it is ingrained in lie dragon faunus to keep calm and focus so their smoke cannot be used to track them down. it is very rare of ren to lose their composure enough for someone to see the smoke ( especially when they are still hiding the fact that they are fauni. ) the smoke has a slight reflective property when inhaled, making the subject feel the same thing ren is feeling. if it is inhaled when ren is happy, then the subject will become happier too.

a fairly common attribute in some faunus are different genetic make up. ren is capable of processing raw meat in times of extreme desperation, even though their culinary knowledge and ability to breathe fire make this obsolete. they also have powerful lungs that aren’t as susceptible to things like cigarette smoke and harsh airborne chemicals, or at least corrode slower than human lungs. ren also has eyes which dilate and contract depending on exposure to sunlight, tougher nails to build up claws, fangs, etc.

dragon faunus bones are hollow, like a bird’s. to be honest, i have the same physiology headcanon about any faunus that can fly. they’re not completely hollow but there are air pockets within the bones. skeletal pneumaticity allows for a redistribution of mass within the body, and though does not drastically affect ren’s weight ( they’re a little lighter for a male their age ) this part of their physiology allows for better balance of weight within the body to allow for greater balance, agility, and ( with winged dragon faunus ) ease of flight. because of this, dragon faunus are susceptible to calcium deficiencies and bone diseases.

because ren’s horns were broken off when they were young and continuously filed down, they are small for their age. in dragon culture, it would be embarrassing to have horns this small unless you were still a child. dragons in ren’s region used to decorate their horns with intricate carvings, with jewellery, but ren is too afraid of damaging the integrity of them. the most they’ll do is wrap some flower and flower stems around them. because of their trauma concerning their horns, no one but close friends and family are allowed to touch them.

the reason the lie family heads have an extensive reputation for being isolating in regards to protecting their family comes from ancient horror stories of dragon poaching. the reason dragon faunus are so rare is because they are an ancient ancestral line rich with magic in their own physiology. they have been murdered and harvested for their faunus traits before. it’s a common thread of mythology that dragons were once made of pure magic ( originating from old stories of the two brothers ) and there is not one part of the dragon that cannot be sold for a very high price on the black market.

list of dragon part properties below, cut for length.

dragon bones are highly valuable because of their slow decomposition and strength. they are however hollow, which explains the common trait in lie heirs of valuing speed and agility over strength, making them very gifted in acrobatics and free running. dragon bones were often used to craft heat and lava proof tools. they were also used to create strong weaponry which seemed to amplify the strength of dust.

dragon eyes have six optic nerves to see light in different part so the colour spectrum, as opposed to the human’s one optic nerve. dust — aided lenses created using dragon eye could reveal parts of the dragon’s advance eyesight to regular humans and most faunus.

dragon scales are diamond hard, capable of resisting most projectiles unaffected, and are most often made of the minerals used to create their suitable gemstone, ie. an emerald scale to suit ren’s would be made out of beryl, chromium, and vanadium. dragon scales have a lifespan ; where they are fresh and newly grown they are their most beautiful and valuable, the extraction of a fresh scale is the most painful similar to the extraction of a fingernail and leaves scars in the shape of the outline of the scale. a dragon scale extracted stays the same and will not go through it’s lifespan. dragon scales dull over time, and are quicker to dull depending on the age of the dragon. when they are duller they are easier to remove, and it is at this point where they can be shaped into top notch jewellery, or even melted down into weaponry or dust — enhanced / enhancing tools. this cannot be done with fresh scales. the last stage of the scale is when they fall off to make room for a fresh new set of scales, it is at this point when they can be ground into actual dust ( this is where the foundation of ‘ dragons are made from magic ‘ mythology came from ) or turned into a potent drug which temporarily enhances semblance but at the terrifying cost of turning your flesh into crystal, and when it wears off the flesh turned crystal will either stay as is or crumble away. there is also a rumour that dragon scales dissolved into sulphuric acid, and again into 100 parts water can create an invisible ink glowing only under the magnetic conditions pertaining to the shattered moon.

dragon wings are one of the most light and durable materials known to man, primarily used in the age of brutality to aid in the creation of flying machines. they are fireproof, waterproof, and generally indirect damage proof. they will still break under physical pressure and are one of the slowest recovering parts of their body, the most effective outside weak spot. in a way similar to a tongue, most regenerative ability distributes to the wing first and then the rest of the body. the wings are highly important weak spots, in the words of the vikings, a downed dragon is a dead dragon. dragons with wings primarily made of feathers were also targeted; specifically because dragon quills are perfect for creating dust tattoos having no need to dip the quill in dust before applying it to the skin. it is just automatically there, since the feathers when burnt create dust in their ashes.

dragon teeth are commonly used to create dust — amplifying weapons, but the most valuable part of the dragon mouth is most definitely the venom reservoir ( mentioned above ). dragon faunus produce this all their lives, no matter if they use them or not. the smoke produced from combining the spark pouch and the venom reservoir is rumoured to reflect the temperament of the user once inhaled. the material in the venom reservoir is still unknown!! it has very few common traits, though is rumoured to take on characteristics depending on person. ren’s venom is the same colour as their eyes and aura. their venom is deceptively sweet smelling, and though ren hasn’t learnt much through experimentation, knows that the smoke they produce often smells like fading incense.

dragon blood is a slow corrosive. this is one of the most rare dragon faunus traits. in small doses can promote health and regeneration, in the rarest cases able to cure incurable diseases and even regenerate lost limbs ( like a lizard ). it can be used to heal most wounds. ingested dragon’s blood in high doses can corrode the body from the inside out, damaging the brain and language centre first. those that have abused dragon’s blood before are recorded to speak some strange ancient language before dying. the ancient lie clan believed this language was that of the moon men. unbeknownst to her, ren’s mother was a dragon faunus with one such trait. she did not know this for the entirety of her existence, though she did miraculously heal from a terminal illness as she aged. she effectively destroyed her matrilineal history of a special terminal illness that has affected their family for countless generations. she never came to know this, and until ren has children, and their children have children, they might never know.

western origin dragon horns hollowed out produce beautiful music. there is no magical trait about them save for particularly successful results when used in pagan rituals, or high levels of luck in killing enemies when made into a dust — amplifying weapon. horns are considered the least valuable of all dragon parts, and thus are the most common trait.