#if its not my circus or monkeys then i care very much. if it is my circus and monkeys then its basically not my problem

[moonstandardtime]

the world is so beautiful when you dont care. unfortunately i need to. unless its something important in which case i dont

[sea-salted-wolverine]

No one should ever go to Kasilof. It is a terrible place with terrible weather and overflowing porta potties and overstuffed dumpsters with child snatching and dogfighting and some crazy guy swinging a sword that got shot by the cops. Awful stuff really. Best avoided. Just not worth the bother.

That was the gist of the news stories leading up to the kasilof sockeye runs this year it was no issue at all to find a camping spot and it wasn't nearly as crowded so I totally agree with the mainstream media on this one. It's a den of vice and iniquity. Stay away. The rent lowering gunshots clipped a reporter.

So this year we went down with a largish caravan of 4 family's worth of people and junk and a limit of 170 fish to catch. We're soo good at planning and logistics that this went off with no hitch and no arguments (lying). Since we also had a very pregnant lady and excited 2 year old who would not be fishing but were still counted towards the limit we planned on being there for a while, at least 3 days if not more. We also had the damn dog.

So at least I was planning on a few days of chill fishing and a long slog. My brother in law left an hour or so early with his girlfriend and had one job, to find us a good spot to descend upon and set up our camp. They did not do this. One job. The fishing was hot so they didn't even really bother to park, we pulled up on his truck kinda packed off to the side of the road and he was down in the water with a pile of fish on the beach because he didn't even have a cooler ready.

So by the time we bitched him out, found a campsite, set up camp and squared everything away, it was approaching midnight. This is normal, you fish the tides as they come and its not like it gets dark so wandering the beach all night long is expected so long as you're considerate of those trying to sleep.

But then.

My Sunshineman brought his boat. I knew he brought his boat, I was in fact the one arguing that he needed to do things like park and set up camp rather than do exactly what his brother did and throw himself into the river as soon as he saw fish coming in, while neglecting those little things like, food and sleep. But since we were done setting up, he wanted to go fishing from his boat. At midnight.

I had been up early that morning to do terrible things in the bilge of a different, much larger boat that resulted in fun colored bruises on my ribs and sore shoulders, so I wasn't particularly feeling the vibe on this one. I helped launch the boat and then bowed out to go pass out in a pile of blankies in the sand.

In the time it took two set up camp and launch the boat Adak, the dog, managed to get into a fight and have his face ripped up. He is huge and he is stupid but he doesn't take shit but he was on leash while the other dog was running loose, so the impulse was to pull him back, if he had been left to his own we probably would have gotten away with out anyone getting bit.

He's fine and chicks dig scars but its indicative that I had no idea this happened 25 yards away from me until adak came up to me and smeared his face all over my pants. My pants already had engine grease, bilge slime, grass stains, fish guts, coffee, mud, sand and a few baby boogers on them so what's a little dog blood too?

So yea, not my circus, not my monkeys, in tent, pants off, pjs on, cozy bitch in the blankies, out like a light, nothing better than sleeping on the beach.

Except for the fact that your husband wakes you up at 2 AM asking for help.

I'm convinced he kept it vague on purpose.

I'm up. I'm out of the tent. I'm still in my pj's. I have my drysuit on over top. My waders have a hole in them. It is, I cannot stress this enough, 2 AM.

The boat is a 16 foot mil surplus zodiac with a 40 horse Johnson, if you care about that sort of thing. It gets nice comments from people who do care. We usually run one person to drive, 2 to work the nets, and one optional person to handle fish as they come in. Sunshine went out with our 2 friends who AFAIK crawled off the boat and directly into bed after 2 solid hours of midnight deathmatch fishing, because I watched them stumble out of the boat and didn't see them again until breakfast. The boat was entirely full of fish. THEY CAUGHT 49 FISH IN LESS THAN 2 HOURS. Kasilof reds are usually smaller than Kenai reds but there must have been a secondary run because half were the average 6 or 7 pound fish and the rest were something like 10 lbs each.

At some point sunshine must have woken up his brother because he materialized from somewhere and we got the fish out of the boat into a cooler so we could drag them up to clean them. Then came the thing that we're all still more than a smidge irritated about. Sunshine went back out in the boat, by himself, to go get more fish while BIL and I cleaned the ones he had just brought back. We couldn't even yell at him because a good chunk of the beach was asleep.

So at about 4 am the sky has decided to shift from twilight to morning and I am sitting on a cooler of gutted fish in a superbly uncomfortable drysuit having a moment of perfect communication with the bald eagle sitting on the light pole at the end of the dock. We would both enjoy breakfast, preferably of fish. But it is four fucking am in the morning. And we should both be alseep. Breakfast is not a meal best enjoyed at 4 am. A nap sounds best.

Sunshine comes back with 3 more fish. I honestly do not remember what happened to those fish. Either I gutted them or he gutted them or maybe they got raptured into fishy heaven, (which looks suspiciously like the inside of a cooler) I legitimately do not know, because I think my REM cycle was starting up again.

I get a hand to haul the cooler back to camp. I peel out of the dry suit and was asleep back in my cozy sleeping bag blanket pile before Sunshine even made it to the tent.

At something like, idk, 6am, someone started splitting wood. loudly. I was awake enough to identify that it was near, and probably not a problem and I distinctly remember making the semi conscious decision to sleep through it. At about this point my phone died and for the rest of this trip I had no idea what time it was. I intended to take pictures and document things and whatnot and that just did not happen. The phone stayed dead and my hands stayed busy.

I woke up last, presumably because the demon that compels my mother-in-law to get up at 5 AM every morning had already woken everyone up with the wood splitting. She was toasting breakfast burritos, and it wasn't as if I had slept through the whole morning because I wasn't even the last to get a burrito.

My FIL made a joke that at least one of us got a full 8 hours and BIL earned back all his brownie points by jumping in to defend me unprompted. She was indeed up at ungodly hours playing with knives and dead fish. How dare you impune her honor simply because she looks so dewy fresh after sleeping in the dirt?

I did at least get the chance to put a net in the water from the beach but we were limited out by 1pm. That's enough fish fast enough that we were dumping out food and drinks coolers because we planned on freeing up space as we went. So I had our camp that we had intended to stay in for as long as a week broken down and hundreds of pounds of fish gutted and iced in a few hours. While drinking, because we had several days worth of food and drinks and beers that had been displaced by fish. The solstice vodka lemonade from matanuska brewing is great btw.

We had planned to overlap the end of our trip with the beginning of my mom and sister coming down so we could fish together, so I called mom as were were leaving the beach. From Sunshineman's phone of course, mine being dead at the bottom of a bag somewhere. As the current time was something like 16 hours from when we arrived, she assumed I forgot something or was just calling to tell her about the nice weather, or terrible weather, or confirming the news report's porta potty horror story. She didn't expect us to pull in a years worth of food in a single tide cycle.

So we get home without incident, and get to cleaning and fileting and packing and labeling at, some, late, evening time, maybe? I'm time blind on a good day and if I had a watch it would be covered in fish slime.

So yeah, this year's fish camp was condensed into a single solid slug of dense firey whatthefuckFISHfishFISHcleanpackgutgohome. Niece creature didn't want to change our of pj's so she wore the same outfit for her entire trip which is spectacular from a laundry standpoint because a toddler given free reign to a muddy fishy beach goes about as well as expected. She had a ball and then napped through almost the entire cleaning and packing process when we got home, which is what I wanted to do but instead I fileted triple digits worth of fish.

Mom went down later for the weekend and she got rained on for 3 days and caught 7 fish and a flounder. We caught the hot run and came home with fish but at what cost?

[factual-fantasy]

28 Asks! Wahoo! :DDD

(Post in question)

XD I'm glad you like him! This makes me want to make some lore for the little critter. Some of the other imps and cats have lore, so Armpit should too!.... Starting with giving him a proper name <XDD

(Video in ask)

Oooo pretty song! Though I'm not sure what they'd think.. :0 They might just enjoy it in general and not have much thought afterwards <XD

Google seems to say that that's a scary game, I'm sure they'd be too scared to play <XD

I feel like what it would take for Bonnie to yell at someone is if they were yelling at him. But even so.. I just don't know if that's how Bonnie is..

Like if say, Monty was really barking at Bonnie for how he's behaving and just shoving everything in his face. I'd like to think that Bonnie would eventually blow and yell back something like "I DON'T CARE" or "YOU HAVE NO IDEA WHAT IM GOING THROUGH".. Buuuutt at the same time.. Bonnie is mellow and kind by nature.

Seeing Monty yelling.. he might just shut down even more. He's so tired. He's tired of everything. And now Monty's yelling about something and its all just.. so exhausting. It might be easier for Bonnie to just stand there and not say anything and wait for Monty to get it all out of his system and then leave. Fighting back is just gonna make Monty yell more and cause more drama. Bonnie would give up in an argument pretty quickly and just stand there until the other person is done yelling.

And what's Monty gonna do? Push Bonnie around? Bonnie is way heavier and stronger than him. Pushing him/encouraging Bonnie to get physical is just gonna result in Monty flailing about and Bonnie standing stiff as brick.

I've never seen that movie(..?) before so I cant really say.. But judging by Google images, it looks really cool! And it has a lot of cats in it XD

I remember them! What a whacky cast of characters :00 My favorite is probably the Monkey XDD

I've never watched any of the Ghibli movies although I really should 💔

Now considering all the stuff I've heard/seen about those movies.. the food looks delicious, and the lands seem peaceful..?? They all might camp out for a while in one of those worlds and just bask in the peace and quiet.. 😌

XDD Hey I see that digital circus reference!

Although they didn't have any rides like that fortunately, and STAFF bots didn't exist when Foxy was still in service. If a kid had an accident of some kind, whether it be an injury or a uh. "Spill".. It was probably Foxy's job to alert an employee and they'd come in and clean up the mess and/or whisk the injured child away so Foxy could go back to work.

If you go to my blogs post search and type in "super mario bros", you should find 99% of all my Mario artwork!

If you have any trouble finding it don't be afraid to send another ask- idk if ur on mobile or PC it might be different <XD

Seam could have known how to do that perhaps..? But his powers were never meant to hurt people. Seam was the court Magician. He would just use his powers to put on these beautiful displays and show off these bizarre tricks and shows. (Usually along side Jevil to add extra flare and humor to his performances)

Although... technically you could say that he did use his magic to harm once. I don't know if it counts as a hex.? But he did lock Jevil away in a magical cell made of his own magic... does that count? :0

Yeah that was the intention. Seam, that Older imp and the two cat ladies worked under the King directly. So they wore these beautiful robes and headdress things to show their status. Jevil was the court jester so he just wore a jester outfit.

If Jevil had any other role he'd probably be dressed all fancy just like them. :0

Yeah <:( for a lot of reasons.

For many years talking has hurt Seams mouth and face, obviously- So he's resorted to mumbling and talking very quietly. After years and years of doing that his voice cant be great. When the stiches were removed I can imagine him raising his voice and it just sends him into a horrible coughing fit. Plus those holes in his mouth are still there, and they cant feel great to be stretched around..

I can see him struggling to make certain sounds. Like the word "cheese". He'd probably cut off half way cuz the holes were stretched and it felt like a punch to the lip. :'(

That's a good question... I think at least for now, Seam just wants to cover it up.

Underneath that wrap.. his face is pretty messed up. Its not just his eye.. I imagine that the eye hole also didn't heal great so I don't know if they could even put in an artificial eye. It might hurt Seam or make his face really sore.. Plus after the eye was in, he'd just want to cover it up with a bandage anyways..

So for now, he just covers his face and doesn't touch the wound. And I don't think he'll have the courage to mess with it anytime soon... :((

I have not :/ But I have seen ads for it EVERYWHERE. So I am aware of its existence. XDD

I've never heard of that game no.. but Googling it, I can say that I love the art style! :D

Awe,, Thank you so much!! :DD

Possibly! :000

Aww.... nah that would destroy anybody.

I mean if they absolutely had to for some reason, like they could never return to the surface because if they did they would die.. They would survive underwater for a while. But then eventually they'd run out of supplies and they'd starve or the octopod would stop functioning after a while..

Also MAN they would all be ruined mentally. Never being able to see their families again. Never being able to feel the sun on your skin or breathe in fresh air. Being stuck underwater for the rest of their lives would destroy all of the Octonauts. Save for possibly Inkling, but even then being trapped down there and all your friends are miserable would wear on Inkling too..

Maybe not the whole playground. But I can easily see Christmas/holiday themed decorations being hung up around the Daycare :)

Hmm.. I hadn't planned/thought about something like that... But that's a really cool idea! Perhaps at one point they were pursued through dimensions :0 Terrifying!

@kiyuktuk

Which "Wapeach" are you referring to? If you're talking about the ship of them, Mmmm nahh,, I don't think they'll ever be a thing..

Are you referring to "Wapeach" as in the peach wearing that purple outfit with the long purple boots? If so I don't know what to make of that <XD

Judging by Google images.. they'd see the desert wasteland, turn right around and jump through another mirror. <XD They need to find food man!

(Post in question)

Bad Endogeny! No! Don't stab people's legs! >:(

Never heard the song before, but I'm sure Jangles would be up for it! XD

XDD 1 Jangles is powerful enough, the world cant handle 2-

@beryl-shade

Jangles would be in awe of his idols. Sans and Papyrus would probably be wondering why this 3ft(??) tall plastic Halloween skeleton decoration is alive and talking XDD

@octonauts16 (Post in question)

Oh! No no, Cici is Bibi's little sister. I don't think I'll be making him a girlfriend any time soon <XD

I'm cautiously excited. I always love to see more FNAF but I'm worried that they might twist the lore even further and make things even more confusing... <XDD

[sgiandubh]

Pecunia non olet

When the Roman emperor Vespasian reinstated Nero's very unpopular tax on the distribution of urinals' waste, sometime around 70 AD, his son and heir, Titus, complained about it, thinking it was vile and disingenuous. Vespasian shoved a golden coin under his nose and asked the young fool if he still felt offended about it. Pecunia non olet - money doesn't smell, son. This very gold comes from, well, urine. Live with it.

I once comforted a whole orphanage, in Moulmein, Burma, for three weeks, with about 500 well-spent US dollars, at the local bazaar and shops. From rice to fruits to the strange, exuberant vegetables of the Tropics, meat and eggs and chocolate, and for good measure, aspirin, band-aid, antiseptic wipes, notebooks, pencils, socks, shoes, Tshirts, skirts and trousers. Filled three rickshaws with all the boxes and bags and went for it. The St Joseph orphanage was run by five formidable Anglo-Indian nuns, who took care of about 40 children, aged 5 to 16, whose parents died in the horrendous floods that followed the Nargis cyclone, in 2008. They had nothing. When they asked me who I was, I honestly told them it did not matter. Non nobis, Domine, non nobis.

Make no mistake. I am not a saint. I smoke like a chimney and swear like a drunken sailor and sometimes have to professionally, elegantly lie, because such is the nature of my job. I am cynical and short-tempered and yes, less impatient now than at 20. That day in Moulmein will always shine bright in my mind and in my heart for its absurd joy. And also for the feeling the real generosity was not mine, that day, but theirs.

Last week-end, about 200 women I would probably find perfectly insufferable paid from 2000 to 5000 US dollars each, to meet and greet and fawn and take #silly pictures with three guys who happen to be part of the cast of a certain TV series. With only one of them, in reality, but let's not trouble the waters. Apparently, they had a good time. I am not sure about the guy: he's not exactly the Svengali type. I very much doubt that this event will go down in history. It was as good as it gets, with the people it could attract. Entitled? Maybe. Sad? A bit, if you ask me. But above and beyond all of this, it was transactional. I pay, you drop by. I pay, you take a pic and smile. I pay, I ask a stupid question. I pay, we have a dram. For our mutual benefit.

I have no idea if these people maxed out their credit cards to be there. In theory, this is all about disposable income, cash that can and will be well... disposed of, somehow, whether it's a horrendous pair of mauve shoes or the last gadget or hey, a meet and greet. If I were Marie Kondo, I'd even dare say that parting with cash brought them joy.

Can we compare the two moments? Of course not. But both of them are the result of a (hopefully fully aware) choice.

It's been a long while I also chose to never set foot in such places, for such things. Not my circus, not my monkeys.

Stating the opposite is pure hypocrisy and pearl-clutching.

Sunset on the Salween River. Moulmein. Burma. August 2010. Taken by me.

[radiohusbandaskblog]

How would you describe the relationship your friends (and your lover) have with eachother?

It would depend on which friends we're talking about. Me and Vox have a very established and communicative relationship, we know exactly how to help eachother and respect eachothers boundaries. We're husbands so it makes sense. We're rather healthy.

Me and Velvette get along and sometimes I help out with modelling and giving her inputs on other types of fashion from certain time eras just as an act of helping out and helping her expand her overlordly fashion lines, of course. I view her like a sibling at times.

Me and Valentino don't exactly see eye to eye and its no lie that he loves to frequent and attempt to flirt with me. However I don't like it and I've expressed that, but I've learnt to accept and know I can't really change much of his department. I believe he has a lingering crush on Vox however he knows not to step into already owned territory. I suppose I view him as just a old bug on the wall, however that doesn't mean I wouldn't care for the bug.

Me and Rosie are fabulous pals. I view her like a blood relative. She's the sweetest belle ever, a charmer too. Her drawings and recent captures of fresh territory are rather fascinating. We met the year I fell, so it wasn't too bad.

As for Charlie, she's my daughter. Not in a blood way, but I view her like a daughter. I suppose. Vox insisted on having Charlie around as protection because "you never know what could happen, alastor, you haven't been around for seven years so like.. something could happen and it could be beneficial to have princess morningstar on our side if you ever got hurt."

Niffty is such a charming demon belle. Willingly handed off her soul to me and she's such a grand cleaner. She'd be like a lost puppy if it weren't for my protection and attention on such her quick skills, she'd probably be assassinated by now.

I already knew of Angel Dust prior to the hotel however I dislike how Valentino treats him, but its not my problem. For its not my circus so its not my monkeys. Surely you would understand.

You already know my opinion of Husker.

Vaggies too familiar with her attitude to respect authority so I don't like her. She's waste under my boot.

[fandomregression]

uhhh tim as a regresser? i know hes usually a cg in your fics but i kinda relate to him so much

while i see him mainly as a cg, thats mostly bc i want him to be my cg, but i absolutely see how he could be a regressor so rAMBLING TIIIIIIIME

Regressor Tim Stoker Headcanons!

so tim starts regressing actually kinda young, in his early teens, because he's always lived in his brother's shadow. always been the second, despite being the older child, and its. hard. he pretends everything's okay and he isnt jealous, but he wants. needs. attention too

he learns what regression is exactly in university, and he kinda just shrugs and says 'yep that tracks' and pushes it to the side. let's bury that problem and deal with it later! that's a problem for Future Tim!

future tim is very mad and small, now. he spends a lot of time crying into his pillow and hugging his childhood stuffie, a little doggy named spot, until he falls asleep

he tries to basically never let dating partners find out abt his regression that doesn't seem like a good thing

a few of them do, and a couple try their hands at being cgs. they give up because tim is "too much" for them to handle

then danny dies, and tim spirals

hes just really, really not okay. he spends so much of his time trying to research what happened, trying to learn about the circus, trying to find anything that explains why his little brother is dead, and he can't figure it out. and he just tears himself apart over it. he's on the verge of regressing pretty much all the time, he's crying his eyes out all the time, and everything is bad. by the time he starts working at the magnus institute, he's a shell of a man whose head always feels like its swimming

then he meets jon, and he can tell there's something familiar in the ways he acts. tim's almost certain jon is a regressor, and well...he's nothing if not a good big brother. and he's a big brother who really, really welcomes this distraction from the fact that his little brother is dead

he does his best to keep jon out of trouble and take care of him, but he's well aware of his own headspace encroaching on all of this. its not easy. little things that tim does for jon are things that make tim regress, so its. not going too well!

until they meet sasha :)

sasha notices these two are a lil different pretty quickly. its become even more evident when they're researching a case, end up at a park, and jon and tim are playing on the playground like little kids

tim is very excited about this, and he absolutely climbs on top of the monkey bars and shouts for sasha

"sasha! sasha! look at me!!! :D!!!" "i see you! you're up so high!!"

she pushes them both on the swings, she pushes them both on the merry-go-round, and it feels just so natural to them

(tim picks her some dandelions and clovers, too, and sasha adores it)

after that day, when tim's big again, he realizes that sasha was able to actually play with both of them and pay attention to tim even though he was bigger than jon...sasha actually wanted to take care of *tim* and jon at the same time...and he didn't feel neglected...

(he cried himself to sleep again that night, but he wasn't sure why it felt so painful) (its the neglect trauma)

at work, tim basically just starts feeling a pull toward sasha a lot of the time, and he's terrified of being too much for her, but he...he needs this...

if he finds a cool bug, he takes a picture to show her. cool rock, he takes it inside and gives it to her. he likes to draw little doodles on his sticky notes and give them to her, and it absolutely makes his heart soar every single time she sticks them to her monitor. he's just. thriving off the affection

jon is the first one to explain regression, and he expects both tim and sasha to just push him away. he is absolutely not expecting tim to say he's a regressor too (how jon didn't notice? well...poor baby's not very observant...) and they're both not expecting sasha to just say "oh i know, who wants a juice box?"

both just. malfunctioning

tim does regress older than jon, usually around 6-8, and he takes his job as big bubby VERY seriously. he holds jon's hand when they do anything, he is always imparting his wisdom (which has been "red crayons taste bad" and variations of that multiple times), and he tries to let jon get more attention from sasha

sasha does not take too well to that last one. she notices pretty quickly that tim sacrifices himself for jon, and that just won't fly. so, extra hugs. extra kisses. lots of one-on-one playtime. tim cries a lot over this

then they move down to the archives and yay!! martin!!! now tim and jon have a mama and a papa and its even easier for them to both get the attention they need (especially tim, who doesn't feel as guilty when there's two cgs he can go to whichever one isn't handling jon)

tim has a lot of games he likes to play, and he has quite a few stuffies, but a lot of the time he likes playing nintendo with martin (and jon watches and tells him how cool he is)

sasha and martin both learn pretty quickly that anything circus/clown themed is very much a no-no with tim. if he's already regressed, its the quickest way to a panic attack he can get. if he isn't regressed, he will be very shortly, and then the panic attack happens

at that point its just...hugs and comfort until he can stop crying

when it comes down to it, he's just glad to finally have this sort of support system. to have multiple people who care about him and actually try

[marsbars1714]

Realized I don’t have a pinned post so uh. Little introduction thingy ig

My name/nickname is Mars, feel free to build nicknames if you want I don’t really mind

I’m queer. Just like. Broadly. That’s generally the term I use but if we wanna get more specific I’m trans masc and gay. That’s ab as specific as I’m willing to get bc everything else just amounts to “yeah fuck if I know we just vibing”

I’m a dumbass, if you couldn’t tell by the shit I say/reblog

I’m a USAmerican, only speak English fluently, but I’m trying (key word trying) to learn German

I use he/him they/they and it/its pronouns, however sometimes I will ask that one or more set of them is disused temporarily for some reason

I don’t personally use them for myself but I’m chill with neo and xenopronouns cause like. Why should I get a say in what you are called??

Uh

I have 2 side blogs currently but I don’t care to share those (be a good lil detective if you care that much)

I do post/reblog kink/sex related things on (rare) occasion. I do try to tag them when I remember to do if you wanna avoid that you should know what to do (either block the tags or don’t look through my reblogs n posts)

DNIs ig

Just general assholes. This includes TERFs (get outta here automatically, you aren’t gonna change my mind on myself and I don’t want you on my stuff), racists, Islamophobes, transphobes, homophobes, zionists, antisemites, etc.

obvs not a comprehensive list, it’s kinda just “if you hate/dislike/are discriminatory towards a person for some reason they can’t change (including religion, sexuality, race, hell even just a kink they might like that isn’t harming anyone that hasn’t consented to it) fuck off” but there’s probably other shit that I don’t want to interact with and I’ll probably add them as I remember

Im very “live and let live” if you couldn’t tell. My standing on things is GENERALLY a “gross. Why do I think it’s gross? Are they harming someone who isn’t/can’t consent? No. Not my circus not my monkeys.”

[girlypopastro]

taurus rising is social houses in water signs.

they have a generous heart for their community. generally as no boundaries as a taurus gets. they love to hear everybody out. the weirdo, the antihero, the mean girl. they do not mind having people of all different paths in various social circles. but you might notice they are slippery. the slip in and out of all these circles easily adapting to each, collecting stories, collecting wisdom from all these people. effervescent ephemeral. that does not mean that anything goes in their little communities. they are open to all life paths as long as you don’t have your values all wrong. as long as they feel like you have a good heart they will let a lot slide. at the end of the day .. whats not their monkey, thats not their circus. they know what they think its the truth.

but make no mistake. just because they would invite you for dinner, introduce you to their acquaintance they feel like you would get along with great, invite you to their get together of all these lovable weirdos or wouldn’t let you sleep outside in the freezing cold … doesn’t mean they feel like you get to know them like that. you might even notice the closer you get to them the more enclosed they become. if they feel like you are a friend of a friend .. off they go blabbering on about their dreams and ideas, feelings and impressions. but if you’re going to be in their day to day .. oh boy, they put their big kid shell on and you might noticed them waiting to see if they can invest in you. they will gladly take care of you or help you. they will love it if you open up emotionally to them. just with them opening up to you might take some time and be indirect. because once you’re in you’re in and taken care of. they might actually be mad if you take their caregiver spotlight. in that vain they might be the one turning into a huge baby

you may have noticed this resistance to one on one hang outs. and maybe they are the one person who is really picky with people they date (really nitpicky and critical if you will). they might be scrambling to look for buffer people to have on these one on one hangouts. they might indeed fear that you won’t be talking enough and they might reveal more about themselves than they are comfortable with. it’s not this desire to be mysterious, it’s out of fear of getting vulnerable and you leaving them. they know that people are unstable points in their lives and they are trying to protect themselves from getting attached. because once you are theirs you are THEIRS and you no longer have a say in that matter . if a taurus rising likes spending time with you one on one, just know that you are special. with most people they probably feel a little on edge, a little paranoid, they are censoring themselves. or silently listening collecting all the information on that other person. if their avoidant ass doesnt run for the hills when they feel attached to you, they will make it a point to understand you, you will occupy their mind to the point of not having to say anything for them to know. possibly years of restricted vulnerability will be unleashed on you in a way that is deeply transformative to them, and you know they hate change more than anything. they will grow to someone who is fit for merging your two souls into one. just so you know they are terrified of abandonment and they might get very possessive and obsessive if they feel you slipping from them and tighten their grip on you even if they have to metaphorically strangle you. and if you do indeed make them feel abandoned, you will have created a stubborn enemy for life. for they do hold grudges like it is their life purpose.

and for you my taurus rising, people much like plants need space, water and air to grow, to live. i know you are afraid, my baby. you need to loosen your grip a little. i know you need to go at your own pace and other people do too, so do not rush them and if they are rushing you, let them go. let go. let go of grudges. let go of resentment. let go of entitlement. and stop giving people the damn silent treatment. love will never be perfect the way you want it. people won’t behave in the exact ways you want them to. especially if you shut down and go into your intricate schemes and paranoid ideations to make them. the only think you can control is yourself. so let go.. wont it be way more comfortable this way??

[jedicakes08]

This is a discarded small plots from a series I don’t plan on continuing on AO3. It’s a second story following the chamber of secrets in where clone characters go to Hogwarts and help Harry find a new home and live happily and stuff. If you wanna check it out here’s a link to the series I did.

This was posted due to a reader from AO3 who seemed to like it. Shout out to Biblioworm

Tech hums as he reads over Harry’s homework. “You’ve done well Harry. I think you’ll do well this year.”

Beaming a little Harry Hugs Tech. “Thanks Tech!”

Tech pats his head as he’s still not used to hugs. “Yes we’ll have you finished reading all the potion books?”

With a nod Harry pulls out the last book. “I did. Though a lot of it seems like it’s for the years ahead of us.”

“That’s because it is.” Tech takes the book and brings it to the bookshelf in the now library of the base. “I thought you could use the extra help seeing as professor Snape seems to dislike you.”

“How’d you know that?” Harry raised an eyebrow at him.

“Well it’s quite obvious really.” He looks up as Crosshair walks over with a scowl. “Have you finished your reading of charms Crosshair?”

He huffs. “I have.” Setting the book down

~~

Wrecker cheers as he’s got his cat. A very large Kneazle with the coat pattern of an explosion. It meowed as it sat itself on Wrecker's head. “I think I’ll call you Boomie!” It meows in enjoy at the name.

Hunter felt his eye twitch a bit knowing he’s got to be the one to take care of it now.

Crosshair not one for any animal with fur or feathers looks over at the snakes. If that Weasley boy as Hunter liked to call him could have a rat. Why not a snake? There was no rule against it after all. He watches as one snake slowly peaks out from the corner. It was small and its eyes were missing. Clearly slashed off. ‘Hey.’

The snake jumps and looks towards Crosshair. ‘You are a sssspeaker?’ It hisses slowly.

‘Yeah I am.’ Crosshair had heard that term used before when dealing with reptile species across the galaxy so this wasn’t new.

‘Pleassse sssspeaker!” It begs. ‘Take me away from here pleasssse!” It moves closer and slightly hits the glass. ‘They hurt me ssspeaker! They took my eyessss!”

Without hesitation Crosshair picks up the snake from its strangely heavily caged box once he opens it. ‘Will you obey me?’

‘Oh yesss sssspeaker I will! I pormisssse!”

He flinched at how much the snake was yelling. ‘Then I’ll take you.’ Taking the snake up to the counter the shop attendant quickly jumps seeing that snake.

“I forgot we had one.” The shop keeper looks like he wants to pass out. “Twenty gallons for that one.”

~~

Plo Koon smiled at his sons now having their wands, uniforms, trunks, clothes, and all the other stuff. He can’t help but coo at how adorable Wolffe looks ready for school. A real proud Buri moment that makes his eyes water. “Look at you my sons.” His breath shakes in joy. Emotions into the force can’t help with the feeling of pride. “I can’t believe you're all going to school!”

He holds his heart. Wolf pack was the oldest of the vode. Wolffe didn’t like shinies because of how attached the others could get causing them to do stupid stuff to protect the shines. So only those eleven and older got in. Wolffe blushes a bit. “Thanks Buri.” He and the others hug Plo tightly.

Plo can’t helps it and cries in the middle of the alley way. “I’m a proud dad!”

Obi-wan sips his tea watching this from his spot at a little cafe. “Not my circus, not my monkeys.” He repeats with a smile as Waxer and Boil hold up with Owls.

~~

Getting to the bookstore was more of a challenge this year. It was packed out more than usual. “What do you think is going on?” Harry looks up at hinter with big eyes.

Hunter strained his ears but couldn’t hear much over the group of women giggling or squealing a bit. “I’m not sure.” Looking down at his list he notices all the DADA books are written by the same man. Lockheart.

“It appears that the person who wrote the books we will need this year is doing signings.” Tech points to a poster in the window of the shop.

Rex sighs. “Why do I have a feeling this won’t be good?” Cody shakes his head a bit as they being Walking inside the crowded bookshop they try to split up to try and find their books. Hunter and Rex keep a close hand on Harry.

All the sudden Harry gets grabbed. “Ah!” Harry pulls on Hunter and in a flash Hunter pulls out his knife, Cody pulls out his blaster. Wrecker grabs the man, tosses him in the air and pins him against the wall.

“Who do you think you are grabbing are brother like that!” Wrecker growls like a strill as Boomie hisses swiping at the man’s face.

“Ah!” The man quickly holds up his hands. “Easy there my friend I was just trying to greet Mr. Potter over there.” He moves a hand towards Harry who’s behind Tech at this point.

“Well, have you ever heard of manners?” Wrecker holds him tighter.

“Now now, let me introduce myself. I am Gildory Lockheart! And I just thought that I should introduce myself to Mr. Harry Potter and tell him that I shall be the new defense against the dark arts professor at Hogwarts.” He smiles as Hunter gives Wrecker the signal to set him down.

Cody tenses a bit as everyone watches them as Lockheart continues. “I’m fact I shall be giving Mr. Potter and all of his friends have free copies of my books they’ll need for school!”

People clap as Cody sighs. He somehow doubts that even magic could make enough books for his brothers.

~~

Mcgonagall stared at the sea of clones. They were all in the back letting the smaller children in front. She could feel her eyes drawn to the one that seemed bigger than Hagride. After going through her normal speech she lets them all in.

Looking at her now long list of names and numbers. Though most of the numbers were marked out and had names attached to them. This was sure to be the longest sorting of the school in a while.

Going through the names it was clear certain clones seemed to be the favorites as even the ones yet to be sorted would cheer for two clones named Waxer and Boil who like the Weasley twins gave her the strange urge to drink and retire. Wolffe when he and a bunch of oddly named ones like Comet, Sinker, Boost, and two Dash with the only distinction is one having a four and the other a nine at the end when they all get sorted into Hufflepuff.

Crosshair got a large fanfare from the largest one when he went to the Slytherin table. Watching him sit next to Hunter and Potter. Finally it was the largest ones turn. As soon as she saw his name she had a sinking feeling that the Weasley twins and the two clones would cause the most grey hairs in all the staff. Sitting on the stool he was to high for her to reach but it didn’t matter as the old stool that has been at Hogwarts as long as the hat shatters causing him to fall. “Oops sorry about that.”

He laughs a bit and at this point I place the hat on his head with a slight prayer to magic he isn’t a Gryfindor. “HUFFLEPUFF!” The hat calls out and I can’t help but sigh in relief as he walks over to the table to be greeted by Wolffe and his brothers.

As I call up the next name there's a crash and the bench holding Wrecker breaks. “SORRY!” He yells somehow being louder than Dumbledore when he magics his voice.

Flitwick goes over to see if he can fix it and possibly charm it to be stronger. Hopefully the wine at the teachers table is stronger tonight as well.

Soon I’m down to a few and one that wasn’t in alphabetical order even thought it seemed like a normal name. “Ahsoka Tano!”

An orange girl with a strange head thing walks up as all the sudden they cheered and she hasn’t even been sorted. Placing the hat on her head the moment she’s sorted their table erupts into a massive cheer as others sulk.

~~

After eating and watching Crosshair glare down professor Snape in an honestly shocking duel to see who would back down. “Wow I’ve never seen professor Snape glare that hard before.” He can hear what someone says.

Trying to focus on his breathing and not the annoying sound of utensils scraping plates he looks at Crosshair. “You wanna calm down?”

“Not until he backs down.” Crosshair says through gritted teeth.

Dumbledore stands up and I dread whatever speech he’s about to give. It’s almost the same as last year except he introduced four new teachers. “I would like all of you to give a warm welcome to the new teachers. For defense against the dark arts please welcome professor Gildory Lockheart!” All of the men don’t clap and just stare at Lockheart. The anger from the incident in the bookstore is still there as they all grew closer to Harry. No one could care and Tech had already found inconsistency in his books. Major ones too so no Hunter and the others didn’t trust him. The anger though everyone could feel it and you could cut it with a knife in the great hall. “Now we have new subjects that are mandatory for everyone to take this year as we all know many things have happened. First up in galactic politics and history with professor Obi-wan Kenobi!”

That gets all the vode to cheer loudly. Crosshair slowly claps still staring down Snape.

“Now you only have to take this once at your time in school and that is a gym class.” Dumbledore smiles. “The school board thought it would be best to add this to help all of you. So I would like for all of you to greet your new gym teacher Sir Anakin Skywalker!” The 501st erupted into massive cheers. Even louder than Kenobi’s. It was clear this was a challenge.

“Oh no.” Hunter sighs, putting his hands on his head.

“And now we have a galactic species specialist, please welcome professor Plo Koon!”

The great hall physically shakes as all of the wolf pack cheer and begin to howl like wolves. Master Koon waved beaming with pride.

~~

“Crosshair stop.” Hunter tries to pull him away as they make their way to the common rooms. He and Snape still haven’t stopped glaring at each other.

Crosshair clenches his fist. “He started it.”

“I don’t care who started it. I'm ending it so we can get the rules and go to bed.”

“No.”

“Crosshair it’s twelve at night. It ends now!”

~~

“You feel okay Harry?” Cody looks him over.

Harry nods. “Yeah I’m just nervous for tryouts.”

Wrecker pats his back. He had joined the Slytherin table for breakfast. “Don’t be that way. you're totally gonna get on the team!” He laughs.

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that.” Draco Malfoy says. “I’m the new seeker.”

“And why is that?” Cody raises an eyebrow.

“Because I’m the best here. I’ve been training since I was little, and my father bought the team Nimbus 2001s.” He smirks.

“Oh I get it.” Crosshair eats his food. “You were so scared of not getting on the team you had your daddy bribe your way on it.”

Draco starts to become red. “No!” He yells “it’s not like that.”

Crosshair laughs. “Sure it is. If you weren’t scared you would do the tryouts like everyone else.”

Draco saw red. “And you think you're better than me?”

Crosshair smirks and sips his juice. Still upset they wouldn’t let him drink coffee. “I don’t think I know.”

“Fine then. Let’s go out to the field and we can see who’s better, you or me.”

“After breakfast.”

~~

Watching Crosshair grab the snitches in under a minute on the broom, Tech somehow had time to build after his studies and internship with the Goblins was kinda boring.

Flint the capitan sighs a bit. “Malfoy, Crosshair down.” Walking over Hunter and the others join. “Listen, your good Crosshair.” Crosshair snorts at that. “But first years aren’t allowed on the team. So Malfoy still is in.”

“Then let Potter tryout against him.” Crosshair at this point wants to watch Malfoy lose.

Flint sighs. “Fine.”

Potter wins and is now on the team with the super broom tech built.

~~

Lockheart seems frazzled by the time they get to DADA. It’s clear he seemed to crack under the brothers not liking him for screwing with Harry. Hunter happily stared down Lockheart, making enough of a deterrent from him to speak to Harry. Sure he tries to get Harry alone but Hunter. Hunter is not letting this strange famous adult man alone with a child.

~~

Skywalker is hard on the class. He’s clearly taking lessons from the temple to teach here. Making them do two laps around the castle, 100 sit ups, pull ups, twenty minute walk sits, and hand to hand combat. “You did an amazing job Longbottom!” Harry pats his back and hands the red faced boy some water.

“Really?” Nevill looks up at Anakin in awe.

“Yeah. A lot better when I was your age.” Anakin pats his head. He could sense how uneasy and unsure Nevill felt of himself. Knowing that feeling, Anakin knew he had to help Nevill.

“But didn’t you grow up learning this stuff?”

Anakin shakes his head. “No I didn’t. I came to the Jedi late so I was so far behind everyone else and I felt like a failure.” Nevill looks up to him. “I knew that I was so far behind and it took me a while but I pushed through and I became strong and was able to show I had value. You have value Nevill , don't sell yourself short.”

~~

“Woah Myrtle you're even cooler than I was told about!” Wrecker laughs as Myrtle makes a water fountain explode.

“Thank you.” She giggles. “You and your brothers are the only nice ones to me.”

Harry looked around Nick's deathday party. It’s going alright. Even after Cody yelled at the headless party. “You okay kid?” Rex places a hand on Harry’s shoulder.

Harry nods. “Yeah I just feel tired.” In reality it feels odd to be celebrating the day your parents were murdered in front of you when you where a baby and the only survivor.

“Then I think it’s time you head to your common room then. Let’s go see if Crosshair is still up.”

On their way back they get stopped by the sight of Flinche’s cat frozen. The words ‘the chamber of secrets is now opened. Enemies of the heir beware!’ Hunter walks over to the cat and checks it out. “It’s alive, just frozen.”

The sounds of footsteps from people leaving the great hall ring out. Quickly running wrecker stops everyone from coming out. The professors rush over. “What happened?” General Kenobi comes and sees the cat.

“We don’t know.” Hunter hands him the cat. “We found her like this.”

“MRS. NORIS!” Flinch cries and rushes over. “You! He screams at Hunter. “YOU AND YOUR FREAKY BROTHERS DID THIS! YOU KILLED HER I KNOW IT!”

“Calm down Mr. Flinch.” Plo puts a hand on his shoulder. “I can tell you they didn’t.

Obi-wan looks over to him. “And Mrs. Noris isn’t dead. She’s just frozen.” Obi-wan begins to use the force to help break the spell.

“General Koon.” Wolffe walks up with Comet holding Ginny Weasley who’s covered in red paint. “We- oh I see you found it.”

“Wolffe, what’s going on?” Snape asks with a sneer.

“We saw something sir. Something you should check out.”

They go to the restrooms to see a giant snake cuddling Crosshair. Crosshair looks at them annoyed. “This thing won’t let me go!”

It hisses with its eyes closed. ‘Don’t worry little speaker I won’t let them hurt you and the baby!’ Crosshair's baby snake was curled up on it as well.

“That’s a Basilisk.” Snape pulls out his wand with the other professors.

Plo, Obi-wan, Anakin, and the bad batch with Rex and Harry all stand in front of them. “Stop! She wort hurt them!” Harry says, holding his arms out.

“And why not?” Snape glares so hard at Harry.

“Because she just wants to protect Crosshair and the baby!”

[hanasnx]

HEY DEAR, it's ya boy, just wondering if you've seen tales of the Jedi yet because I think you'd love anakin's episode, HE'S RUTHLESS. Like you're telling me there's not just a little bit of sadism in there (I mean of course there is, that's literally Darth Vader)? I won't spoil anything that isn't in the trailer/common knowledge, but there's this lovely juxtaposition between him having a ruthless teaching style but speaking in a very caring and loving manner that's just so gooooood. Animated Anakin rarely feels like Hayden's Anakin (I still subscribe to the belief that prequels Ani is Ani as he is in internally, and CW Ani is how Ahsoka, the 501st, and the general public perceive him), but its always good to see some darkness in him. Anyway, hope you're well 😎💝

-👑

HIIIII i just finished totj tbh i’ve been taking a little break from writing sw stuff bcos i finished tcw and it obliterated me. so tales of the jedi wasn’t something i was ready to face til now BUT I WATCHED IT SO I COULD ANSWER THIS

spoilers under the cut for totj up til episode 5 <3

i love the description u added, where tcw ani is how people perceive him vs film ani is more intrapersonal. i dont have any problem with tcw anakin other than the fact he was created bcos the creators gave into the male power fantasy expectation of anakin. (still sad as fuck about the fact hayden wanted to voice tcw anakin and was not chosen for the role…. like his character … it feels so disrespectful just cos he didnt have a deep enough voice but whatever. not my circus not my monkeys)

i love tcw anakin he’s got good moments, but film ani portrayal is my fave

i did love how hard he was on ahsoka in that episode of totj! i felt like it was very true to him, and how he realizes how much harder a war is compared to normal jedi training. and since this war thing is a new thing for the jedi rn, its worth upping the stakes in the training in order to be prepared for actual war. he probably had his fair share of realizations when he was actually in battle how ill prepared he really was for such an event and didnt want that for his padawan.

i really cared for all the tender moments they had. how he spoke to her and touched her (i feel like anakin has a hard time with physical affection in any capacity. hes not a hugger, and he probably acts like he doesnt like being touched but secretly wants you to touch him) so it only added to my adoration for him when we got to see him reach out to her to help her up with his hand or put his hand on her shoulder etc. i really love anakin and ahsoka’s relationship in tcw its like my favorite thing.

also yes hes a sadist and a masochist and i feel like its not just in sexual contexts he is. so hes very hard on other people and himself with sometimes impossible standards bcos he feels as though pain builds a tolerance within you. he wants ahsoka to be untouchable, and she honestly is. as we’ve seen in the ending of tcw, ahsoka did the impossible.

i cant remember where i read it, but someone had said that crediting anakin’s training as ahsoka’s reason for being able to stay alive in the last episodes of tcw during order 66 had erased the specialness of rex’ resolve to tell her to find fives etc. id like to add my take

i dont think that it takes away any specialness. i think it simply adds more to the story. ahsoka was able to stay alive because of rex and rex’s help that much is true, but anakins strict training regiment didnt harm her either. it only aided. i liked that facet of the story tbh.

i like how star wars explores the lack of omniscience in force users. yes they can sense your intention, but why would they be on guard against allies? they explored that in the katri episode when dooku and mace investigated her untimely death in totj.

it only makes sense that jedi in order 66 were susceptible to fatality because why would they be on their guard with the allies theyve served alongside for years?

im sorry im all over the place i had a lot to say. bottom line I LOVED SEEING ANAKIN IN EPISODE 5 hes my sweet bbg

[multyfandoms-imagines]

How would the dark deception crew react to a literal child being the main character instead of the adult we play as and who would be the first to start a fight over adopting them.

Okay, how and why?

Can and will hurt a child: Malak, Mama Bear

Malak does not want anyone and i mean ANYONE to touch ring pieces. So, unless child wants to get into serious problems, they should just stay and play with other nightmares. Malak has standards to not kill them right away, but he will definitely either trap them (most likely with Agatha) or kill them if they somehow got enough pieces. It will be embarrassing to loose to child, you know

Mama Bear is quite literally an embodiment of toxic parents (mothers) and given the explosive Trigger Teddies and her sharp claws... And the maps she has.... And how scary she can get... Lets not. I dont trust her to keep a baby healthy and happy

Neutral to the existence of a child: Bierce, Murder Monkeys

Bierce killed someone's daughter for a ritual. I think its a fair game if i say she doesnt care if a child she sent to the nightmares will die or bring back pieces. Sorry, but she may only start liking a child like. After a VERY long time + few pieces they get

Murder Monkeys dont really *have* a concept of a child in their mind. But they try to not scare/hurt child. Mostly will be confused. And cook banana based meals for a child. (Will 100% panic if they cut them by accident)

Adopt child. No questions. Noone allows to complain: Agatha (obv), Golden Watchers, Dread Duckies, Clown Gremlins, Joy Joy Gang, Reaper Nurses

Agatha and baby just wanna play. And since they are around the same age, they will play alot and pester Malak about getting more toys (much to his "delight" cough)

Golden Watchers absolutely love to have fun. Its been a while. Tho, they do not allow a child to walk next to traps. You cannot change my mind that they wont dress them up in their style and have a tea party

Dread Duckies would had been with Monkeys, but they are more playful. Quacking and dancing happily with kiddo

Clown Gremlins are... Clowns. .... . Yeah i got nothing on that. They do circus/amusement park things, but they are clowns, carl, clowns

Nurses will be waay to happy to have a kid to take care of (even if the child is male). But fear not, they mostly do skating tricks with them

In Joy Joy Gang, we have Penny is protective mom™, Lucky the cool brother™ and Hangry the cool uncle ™. They wont allow a child to be in the depths of the facility tho, to avoid getting them hurt badly

[sppringtrap]

Under Sunlight - Chapter One

tw// implied abuse, liminal spaces, automatonophobia

(is also on archiveofourown which may be easier for you to read! please check it out: https://archiveofourown.org/works/36040657/chapters/89847394)

I’d always hated this kind of place. Well, I thought that anyway.

For a long time, I associated these bright, stunning colours with not very lovely things. With him. All the times I arrived through these doors as a replacement for a stupid fucking apology. He couldn’t say those words to me; he almost treated it like if he did… it was defeat. Maybe they did this when they both felt like they wanted everyone to desperately believe they were good to me.

Things seemed so big back then and the Pizzaplex seemed even bigger. Memories were vague of everywhere except the Day-care, especially when they both seemed like they wanted everyone to desperately believe they were good to me. Make sure I looked good enough to be publicly displayed like a neurodivergent circus monkey. They would dress me up in cute outfits to impress other people, make sure that awful hairbrush with the sharp bristles was tugged through my hair until the knots were gone and a different, new sauce was put in the wrong place on my dinner plate.

----

“New friend…?”

A familiar voice. A feeling only comparable to arriving at home to a safe place. I couldn’t make out where it came from. It took all of my effort to attempt to move. After a little while, I managed to slowly open my eyes to bright spotlights, recoiling a little when I feel a cold, gentle hand against my forehead. “ How are you feeling, sunshine? I already alerted the nurse bots, they should come soon, but I did my best to treat you myself. I wasn’t sure which ones to go with, s-so I just chose what colour matches your eyes!” the words began to merge into each other as I attempted to take in the sight in front of me; a tall, looming figure sat next to me like a 2 year old child, gesturing to the rainbow-coloured band aids in its big, oversized hands. I realise where I am now. Oh, how could I forget about him?

His head sat on his shoulders almost awkwardly too big but fit just right, dressed in jester-type attire and had a face that was so intricate that you couldn’t take in everything at once. The sun and moon; polar opposites, overlapping each other. I heard the gentle purring of the machinery and the bells wrapped around his wrists jingling as he continued to put the poorly organised band aids back into his pocket.

I lifted up my hand to feel the bump on my forehead; it being surprisingly numb for how much blood slipped onto my hand. Everything felt numb. “W-Why am I here? I’m too old for this.” My voice echoed. In that moment I realised nobody else was around, not even the nurse bots that he had apparently called.

No sounds of children playing, the ball pit being thrashed around in or happy birthdays being sung, only an unsettling silence that filled the building. He stood up slowly, his shadow enveloping me as he reached out his cold hand to me. “Come with me, I have something to SUPER cool to show you!”

[daylighteclipsed]

1/ 'my immediate thought was late-KH1 Riku being like ‘I hate you. Die.’ and his daemon rubbing up against Sora’s and being really affectionate with it, betraying the love in his heart' LMAO my thoughts exactly. also Riku's daemon being the chillest entity out there while he's having teenage angst.... poetic cinema. honestly, while dream eaters being daemons would be cool I kinda have a hard time imagining them talk? too much of the "not from our reality" vibes ig.

2/ A dog for Riku would be nice, considering the lengths of his loyalty to Sora. I was also thinking big cats? like snow leopard. my brain kinda malfunctions when I try to come up with something for Sora, but bunny!Sora concept that Canary has really grown on me (also one of the characters from HDM who had a rabbit daemon kinda left a hole in my soul). Sora really makes it a point to help ppl he meets so figures his daemon would be friend-shaped.

3/ More of an afterthought, but I also like the idea of Namine having a bird daemon 'cause she's a "witch", and witches in HDM always have bird daemons to fly along with them. And Sora and Roxas having extremely different daemons just to make it a point that they're different people. And while I'm not certain about Riku, Terra DEFINITELY has a dog daemon.

Ig since Nomura constantly associates Sora w felines (initial concept lionboy Sora, lion cub Sora in the Pride Lands, his Meow Wow dream eater, catboy Sora in Monsters Inc, tbh even anti-form is reminiscent of a feral cat) my brain goes to cats for him, even though he doesn’t really have the personality of a cat… Well, maybe that’s not entirely true. Some cats are cuddly and social… They’re really funny when they get wound up… Sora’s curious and does like to nap a lot in the sun lmao

Sora also wants to be like big and imposing, but he’s so small and cute instead, which reminds me of a cat. That doesn’t mean he should be underestimated, though! All cats have claws…

I asked my bf and he said Sora reminds him of a monkey, which makes me think of those later-concept sketches of Sora like walking on his hands and having a convo w Kairi while he’s hanging upside down from a tree branch dhhfhdhs Later-concept Sora was very acrobatic. He’d fit in at a circus.

A bunny’s cute… Something aquatic might be interesting, too, since Sora loves sailing. Maybe a seal or sea lion or something. They are very friend-shaped, can be trained to do fun tricks, and also like to nap in the sun. And even though they look cute and are usually friendly, they’re still predators. (They’re also bouncy like Meow Wows!)

Yeah, something loyal and hard-working for Riku, like a canine. I already said wolf, but it’s true! haha Wolves especially are fiercely loyal and protective. They’re big and sometimes scary, but they’re quite playful and caring w their pack. Sometimes a wolf wanders on its own, which is where we get the phrase “lone wolf” from, but it never wants to be alone, which also reminds me of Riku.

A swan also comes to mind for Riku. They’re big, graceful, beautiful birds, but they’re not timid. They’re fiercely protective, and they mate for life. Google says they can pair bond v young, which makes me think of how Riku’s been dedicated to Sora since he was like 5. Swans are also a symbol of light and sacred to Apollo, which is why his chariot’s often pulled by swans or composed of swans in art. (Wolves are also sacred to Apollo, apparently! Haha)

Also, the phrase “swan song” comes from the belief that swans sing beautifully upon death, which reminds me of Riku’s light singing or ringing when Sora calls out to him in the tunnel... Idk 🤷‍♀️

I can totally see a bird for Namine! Idk what kind… but maybe a songbird? She’s always kind of reminded me of a caged bird singing… And yeah, I can see a dog for Terra, too. What kind of dog were you thinking of?

Oh! And I figured you’d want to see this reply from @lah-reina

Someone else has thought of this concept, too! It’d be great if we got their name

[themonotonysyndrome]

REDACTED verse - Sadism & Trolling (Vega Headcanons)

NGL, I’m gonna be straight with y’all...

I miss Vega! And uh, since I've been listening to his videos lately, I wanted to write a oneshot for him until I decided on some headcanons at the last minute. 

I'm not sure what role the Inchoate Daemon Listener in his more recent videos would play in the future, so I tried my hands on writing his 'lover'. I always wanted to write a morally dubious Listener anyway! 

So this is entirely separate from the Inchoate Daemon Listener. 

Vega calls his Listener 'Hamster' for their snacking habits. He would only calls you 'Dear heart' when he's feeling vulnerable or in intimate situations. 

He meets them before Ivan's story. He was actually walking around humans for a change of pace, feeding on the faint lingering negative emotions hovering around the park. It's the human equivalent of getting a cup of coffee in the morning to kickstart their day.

Suddenly, Vega felt intense and strange emotions coming from somewhere in the area. It's a combination of righteous fury, hurt and glee. 

He tracks the owner of the maelstrom to find you. A lone human sitting on a bench underneath a tall, shady tree. Your expression is a total contrast to what you're feeling. It's calm and almost bored. 

After using magic to do some digging and breaching personal privacy, Vega found out that you plan an act of horrible revenge on a cheating partner. He sticks around to watch it all play out. 

He loved the show. So much so he claims you as his charge. 

However, jokes on him; you're a passive and lazy person. Your default setting is living life operating on the least amount of brain cells and effort. So after feeding on your heartbreak from the breakup, Vega has no idea what the fuck to do with you. 

So he subtly pulls the strings around you in hopes to get you to feel upset or at least annoyed; coffee spilt on your work laptop, someone bought that last slice of your favourite cake, bad internet connection at home, anything! 

But the most you'd (unknowingly) give him is a sigh before you look for something else to occupy your time. To Vega, he feels like a first-time owner to a pet that isn't behaving as it should be. You're like a hamster running in its ball, utterly oblivious of the world outside.  

When you do react emotionally, it's like a wildfire - a roaring and unapologetic blaze that will burn for days. Especially when it comes to negative emotions. However, it takes such a long time to build up and rarely does it even spark. Honestly, to you, working up to such a passionate response is a hassle. 

Unfortunately for Vega, he realises this a little too late. 

The two of you officially meet when you begin to notice that certain objects around the house aren't exactly where they should be. Like how the coffee cup that you instinctively put away from the laptop is now right next to it when you came out of the bathroom. How you can never find your favourite red mug or t-shirt despite you just wash them. 

Slowly but surely, you feel like you suddenly gain an invisible annoying and unwanted roommate. 

Vega detects your annoyance and plans to 'farm' it, only for it to hilariously backfire when you begin to hit up the local priests to discuss about an exorcism and thus, raise a potential covert risk. 

When he first appeared in front of you, your immediate action was to grab a baseball bat, shock and indignation flare within you. 

"So you're the fucking bastard that has been eating my fucking Pringles!" 

"What!? No! And I swear to any God you believe in, I’ll make you regret it if you swing that thing at me."

“Hah! Is that a challenge!? Buy back my snacks. Now. Before I break your bones and sell them to the black market!”

"News flash, Hamster: you're the one who's been eating all of them. Those after midnight snacks? What? Did you think you were sleep-eating?" 

"Who are you calling hamster!?"

"Of course, that's the one you have a problem with..." 

Do you know that one Tv Trope? The 'savvy guy, energetic girl' and 'monster and the maiden'? You and Vega are something in-between, where Vega is determined to feed on you, his charge, while you make it your life mission to be his biggest inconvenience ever. 

That being said, there's a lot of things you share in common with him. For one thing, you live by the 'not my circus, not my monkey' rule, so you don't particularly care what Vega does outside of your life as long as it doesn't cause you any problems. 

You both can be petty AF, and if one is petty, the other will automatically prepare for the other's revenge. 

Vega likes to give you shit for being an Unempowered Human, and in return, you would do everything in your power to piss him off. EX: You’ll make a joke about his shoe size. You know what they say, small shoes mean small... package. And besides, he's a Daemon, right? Doesn't that mean he has hooves? 

Both of you toed the line between violence and resignation, which is impressive that you're still alive. You made it clear to him that if he wants to take you down, you'll take him down with you, and Vega can respect that. 

Vega starts to catch feelings for you after you blackmail him into going to the cinema with you because there's a discount on the tickets for a pair of friends/couple. He's shocked to find that he enjoyed himself that night. 

As for you, you start to feel fond of him when he orchestrated a string of misfortune on your asshole of a colleague. He never once admit it, but at that point, you could read his body language and behaviours rather well. How could you not when your colleague’s series of unfortunate events result in a whole week of nothing but good vibes for you.

Neither you nor Vega confesses your feelings, but you ended up in a romantic relationship nonetheless.

Vega has never fallen in love before, so this emotion is very strange and new for him. From his annoying charge, you've become his most cherished person in the world. 

Vega protects you the only way he knows how. By making the people who upset you miserable or just straight up terminate their trial period of existence. As a Sadism Daemon, Vega is very well aware of the stigma that comes with his kind, and it really doesn't help that he loves what he does, so you have to rein him in from time to time. 

On that note, expect this Daemon to be possessive as hell. No matter what you do around the house, Vega would attach himself to you. Oh, you're working on the couch with the laptop on your lap? He'll move you so you'll sit on his lap while he watches TV. You're relaxing in the bathtub? Scoot forward, he wants to sit behind you. If you're talking to a friend on the phone, he'll peppered kisses and leave hickies on your neck in an attempt for you to end the call. If he could, he would hide you from the world itself so only he could have you. So please stomp on his feet when he starts to sweetly suggest you disappear with him. 

If it's raining at night, both of you would silently lie on the bed together, just basking in one the other's presence. If you fall asleep first, Vega will turn you into his little spoon.

In terms of dating and due to his possessive and protective nature, most of your dates would be in your home. Movie marathons, him playing as your audience for your video game matches, monopoly sessions ending up in a messy divorce sitcom or just napping together. Good for you if you're a homebody. If you're the outgoing type? Good luck; you'll need to be as persuasive as him to budge Vega. The most Vega is willing to go are breakfast/lunch/dinner dates. The fewer eyes on you, the better. 

It's not long before Vega stops feeding on you entirely. He only takes a few destructive emotions that overwhelm you and help you work the rest out in a healthy manner. 

That's when he starts to think about spending his forever with you. 

Don't be mistaken, though; Vega is still a sadism Daemon that doesn’t take kindly to those getting in his way but to you? His one happiness in life? He's your loyal lover. 

-

OK. I might have gone a bit crazy with Vega but in my defence, I had like 3 mugs of tea and a tub of Belgian chocolate ice-cream and ramen last night after midnight plus a weird longing for him. 

It’s weird. 

[witchesoz]

After Oz: Legends of Oz

I hesitated before doing this one, because this movie is mostly based on the book "Dorothy of Oz" by Roger S. Baum, and I haven't read said book. It is something that tends to get on my nerve, when people actually don't care about the original material an adaptation was based on, and consider the adaptation as its own entirely original piece of work, when in fact, a lot of it was taken from somebody's else work. I mean, the perfect exemple is Shining. Some people praise Kubrick for being a pure genius for inventing this story from A to Z, and consider Stephen's King television series a "poor attempt at a remake of the movie", when... you know, King originally wrote the Shining and Kubrick merely adapted it. In fact, people tend to forget most of Kubrick's movies were adaptation. Dr. Strangelove? Loosely based on "Red Alert". Lolita? Everyone knows it is Nabokov. A Clockwork Orange? Anthony Burgess. 2001: Space Odyssey? Inspired by shorts stories of Clarke, the co-author. Eyes Wide Shut? A 1920s German book, Traumnovelle. And so forth and so forth...

  Hum. Sorry for the rant. I just needed to explain why I always want to take in consideration the original material when tackling an adaptation.  But since I haven't read and can't get this book, I will mostly rely myself on the Wikipedia plot and other reviews I read. If you wonder, yes, Roger S. Baum is Baum's great-grandson (or great-great-grandson?), and he wrote "Dorothy of Oz" as a direct sequel to the first book, "The Wizard of Oz", ignoring all of the others, and... apparently he is not a really good writer. But anyway... I still decided to do a little something about this movie, because... well just because I wanted    Oh yeah, another thing... an elephant in the room I have to adress right now. I only discovered it this year, by doing research about the movie (because before I only saw it at the time of its released and then forgot about it). You can know it, or completely ignore it - yes, I know that this whole movie was the result of a huge scam that robbed hundreds of people out of their money, and that the case has been even brought to trial. But... well the movie is still here, people still saw it, it is still around, will be for still quite a long time, and it is now part of the Oz inheritance, that you want it or not. Anyway, a lot of Oz movies had a dark and troubled production. It seems almost like a pre-requisite: if you do an Oz movie, you'll never end happy. Maybe it is a curse? Who knows.

       So... let's get into the subject. Is "Dorothy's Return" a bad movie? (I'll use this name, because "Legends of Oz" was the name of the intended franchise of three, maybe ten movies). I wouldn't say so. A lot of people said it was crap, or worthless, but I wouldn't call it bad. People also said that it is a bland movie, and I would say yes - but only partially. I think a good lot of the extreme bad reactions were caused because of 1- people who just disliked the idea of more Oz adaptations, 2- people too old for this movie, because you have to remember that this is a movie aiming at children and 3- people who are hard-die fans of the MGM movie and not so much of the original Oz books. It may also play in account that Dorothy's Return was roughly released the same year, and played as a "rival" to "Oz the Great and Powerful".

    Now, note that it isn't a memorable movie (except for a few bits). It isn't an excellent movie. It isn't a cult classic (even though it may become it with the whole scam background, who knows?). It isn't something I would watch again and again with pleasure. It isn't something exceptionnal or groundbreaking, it is even quite generic. But, it has some good parts, and it manages to be entertaining, and honestly as a child I could have sit in front of it and watch it with no problem. Because, yes, it is a children movie. The action is rushed, the characters lack depth, some moments are too sugary-sweet or even cringy (for exemple the song "We'll work together". Seriously, I just looked away and sped up a bit because that was too sickening-sweet for me.) As a result, as a child movie they missed things that could have been really good (the old tree agreeing to be use for a boat, which is played straight up as him being killed, the characters even say so, but then it turns out he is still alive as a boat? You could have had a great, deep, fascinating almost philosophical moment, but you just waste it for a happy ending). Anyway, what was I saying? Yes, a children movie. As a result, some people called the movie "too simple". On the other side, people called the story "too confusing".

  To an Oz fan like me, it isn't actually confusing. It isn't at all - but indeed, for someone with a limited knowledge of Oz, it will be confusing. Because, while they base themselves on an Oz book that re-uses many elements from the books (the Queen of the Field Mices, the Sawhorse, the China Country...) it also decided to include a lot of elements from the MGM movie (the Wicked Witch of the West is the one from the MGM, Glinda is also quasi-identical from her MGM counterpart, the Winged Monkeys work with the evil people...). As a result, yeah, it may be confusing. But the inclusion of the MGM elements actually managed to correct some flaws of the original story. For exemple, in Roger S Baum's book, the Jester was merely a normal jester possessed by the ghost of the Wicked Witch of the West, through her magic wand. Wait, magic wand? There wasn't any magic wand mentionned in the original book! But in the movie, to use the broomstick of the Wicked Witch makes much more sense.

      I'll take a short time here to comment on the character of the Jester, who is, I think, the highest point of this movie. He is a good villain. A cliché but interesting backstory cashing on the idea of Oz vilains as siblings, a clear shout-out to the Joker which isn't so bad, interesting plans. He is also the provider of many nightmarish elements (the fate of Dorothy's companions, which I think was a very good idea, or the people turning into puppets and being used for a creepy dance) that made this Oz movie feel... well Ozian. Because a good Oz work is a work that will traumatize your kids! I guess a bit part of why the Jester works so well is that he basically repeats and remakes all his sister, the Wicked Witch, did in the MGM movie, and let's be honest, she was a great villain. (And this again makes sense when you remember the Jester is originally supposed to be possessed by the Witch's ghost). But at the same time he has his distinctive signature and style, with his Jester persona, his circus-related punishment and his personal plots to conquer Oz. [People noticed obviously the sweet irony of things in this movie. You have a double-character that, on the Earth world is a cheater and criminal trying to steal people of their houses and using several fake identities, while in Oz it is a villain that turns people into puppets he can manipulate and relies mostly on cheating and misleading Dorothy to her doom. Which is eerily similar to what the creators of the movie/franchise did with their financers and investors.]

  Talking about the Earth side... The whole "earthly" parts are all bland and not memorable. Just like Dorothy, who isn't really... anything to be honest. The songs sung aren't memorable either. All of that is a fail. A lot of people also considered the Earthly animation uncanny, or even disturbing, but I personally wasn't bugged by it at all. I saw much more uncanny animation.

    When it comes to the Oz part, I actually think they managed to create a perfect "Ozian story". As in, the general schema of the girl entering in Oz through an uncommon mean (here a people-eating rainbow, that I have to say was quite a scary scene to look at), then passing through many small kingdoms, meeting new friends, forming a team, discovering the villain and fighting him off - this plot was repeated by Baum times and times and times again, and probably comes from the original novel Dorothy of Oz. But it still works, as simple as it can be. Plus, the use of the China Country and the Candy County (I think its their name?) was quite a good choice. The China Country was one of Baum's earliest invention, while the Candy County (originating from the Roger S Baum book) is eerily similar to the Bunbury village, an invention of Baum, inhabited by living baked goods that also get angry at the protagonists for trying to eating them. Yes, all in all, the characters feel really Ozian. As for the other member of the team, "Wiser the Owl". Well... he had the potential to feel an interesting and Baum-ian character. But it falls flat because he just becomes one living fat joke. I mean, fat jokes can be funny. But when the character is mostly the joke itself well... yeah, not really working. He had a much interesting role in the prequel comic book.  

   Because yes, there is a comic book associated with this movie! As I said before, originally the project was to create a franchise of several movies, with toys, goodies, applications and video games. (Or at least that was the project the scam used). The comic is however found under the original title for the movie "Dorothy of Oz". I don't have much to say about it, outside that is was quite pleasing (even though it sometimes doesn't make sense when put in direct relationship to the movie), and that it introduced one interesting idea: that the magic of the broomstick/Witch relied mostly on manipulating the weather and nature. The Jester causes a flood to destroy the Munchkin town, he causes an earthquake to break the China Country, he uses heatwaves to melt the Candy County... And another interesting point, the role of Wiser. Indeed, in the movie he is presented as a "motor-mouth" that keeps talking about everything, knows a lot of stuff and has the tendency to finish other people's sentences. But it gets quickly overshadowed by the fat jokes (cause a big part of his character is that he used to be able to fly but now, because of his love for candy, he is too fat to fly). However, in the comic book he has rather the role of the one voice of reason and intelligence that offers down-to-earth, simple solutions to problems where the other Ozians search for more extravagant and magical possibilities. Exemple (SPOILERS: when trying to create a rainbow, the team searches everywhere, thinks of asking witches, wizards and candy makers. Wiser has to remind them that anybody can create a rainbow with just a good crystal and some light. SPOILER ENDING.)  

   (I actually read the comic book before looking at the movie, which may explain why I consider it better than the movie.) To return to my opinion on the movie... Not the greatest Oz movie, but certainly not the worst. Average, but on the good side. Entertaining and interesting, even though bland and generic. They got the feeling of an Oz story but they just didn't found a way to freshen up or make the story shine on its own. A good villain for a heroine easy to forget. Simple. Ideal for children, or to kill time, or just to inspire one for more Oz work.

[curly-bangtan]

A Drop of Heaven IV: Unravelling

[Series Masterlist]

Pairing: ot7 x reader // this chapter: Yoongi x reader, Seokjin x reader

Series summary: Seven vampires have secretly been roaming the darks of your world for millennia. Each brother selects a Feed who becomes supernaturally bound to him, whose blood will be fed on until their inevitable mortal death. They have spent their eternity hunting for the exorbitant rarity that is angel blood - the most heavenly of food for vampires that fuel them with desire, lust and satiety. So what happens when they all find you, the first angel-blooded being they’ve encountered in two centuries?

Genre: vampire au, poly au, smut, angst, enemies to lovers (e2l)

Warnings in this chapter: mentions of blood drinking, depression and suicidal thoughts, slightly gruesome, probably a lot of confusion, plot heavy chapter

Word count: 11.1k

A/N: I’m not sure if it’s just me but I feel like my writing style for this series has kind of shifted, so apologies if you don’t like the change. Thank you for being so patient with this update, I know it took forever, but I hope it was worth the wait! ❤︎

[prelude, i, ii, iii, iv, v, vi, vii, epilogue]

❦

They say that humans are immensely adaptable creatures. In the face of a drastic change, when thrust into a foreign environment, we possess a biological plasticity that allows us to mould into our novelle surroundings, no matter how alien. All for the purpose of survival. Humans are resilient. Humans survive.

You have survived, and you keep on surviving.

A week has passed. Almost in a flash, yet also agonisingly slowly. But in your memory, all the feeding has merged into a blur. Every time a pair of fangs sink into you, you’ve come to switch off your mind completely. You don’t recall where your consciousness has travelled to, you just remember floating in a cold darkness. Stagnant. Void.

On Thursday, broken and hanging on by a thread, you were tossed to Hoseok. The flash of craze in his eyes, despite your gaping wounds that took longer to heal than it should have, even after drinking Yoongi’s blood, managed to instill a droplet of fear in you. But only just.

Because after Yoongi, you no longer know fear.

Still, Hoseok’s insanity is something you’ve never seen before, a wildness exacerbated by the centuries he has lived.

Hoseok looks at you like a brand new toy. When he touches you, you can feel the tremble of excitement beneath his skin. Sometimes, you wonder if he is the worst one of them all, even worse than Yoongi. Because you at least know what the others are thinking. With Hoseok, he speaks to you as if you’ve been acquainted for years, asks how you fare as if he doesn’t know of your suffering. He smiles at you like he means it, and you know he is genuinely happy to see you, but not for the reason you hope for.

“You seem sad…” He had said, staring at you intently as he brushes the sweat-dampened hair out of your face. “Yoongi hurt you?”

Your eyes were transfixed on one spot of the colourful wallpaper of his Feed Room. Your head barely nodded.

You didn’t see his mouth quirk up in amusement, but you could sense it. Hoseok was prodding you, like a zoo animal. Testing your temperament, seeing how broken you are. And you were too tired, too drained to put on a show like the circus monkey he wanted.

“No worries, Y/N, it won’t hurt with me, I promise.” The ghost of his lips traced your shoulder. “We will have so much fun together.” His long fingers prickle your thighs as he pulls you onto his lap. “Just relax and smile for me.”

It had hurt, at least very briefly before you could shut it out. Out of everyone, Hoseok has the least control. He never knows when to stop. Though he wasn’t bleeding you dry just yet, it visibly took him his entire mental strength to cease his drinking. And once he stopped, he began laughing maniacally.

“Sweet Satan, we’re in for a ride.” He kissed around the puncture wound at your collarbone where blood was weeping out of you. You didn’t move or make a sound.

The sire bond hadn’t surfaced at all. But it didn’t need to in order for you to ignore the pain; you’ve grown so accustomed to it by now that you hardly even blink, sire bond or no. You’re afraid of yourself, the lifeless husk you’re becoming.

The scariest aspect of Hoseok is perhaps how quickly he changes his mood after feeding. His ability to act as if he hadn’t just ripped into you, taking your around the house and telling you stories of his adventurous life while you eat, is uncanny. And when you fail to put on a smile for him, because how could you, his eyes would darken, jaw tighten.

“Isn’t that just hilarious? Can you believe I did that back then?” He would ask, and you’re not sure why your entertainment brings him validation.

But for self-preservation, you have learnt to giggle like you’re enjoying yourself and say cheerily, “I know right! That sounds wild!”

And Hoseok would nod madly, giddy from your approval, acting blind to your ingenuity as if he hadn’t forced the response he wanted out of you.

That was your Thursday.

.

Jimin was a salve, a soothing balm over your hidden wounds.

You no longer care whether his affection towards you is genuine. Beggars can’t be choosers, you’ll take any kindness where it is doled. It’s funny because, amidst suffering, amidst torture, you are able to resist the floods of tears that should be completely justified in your predicament. Yet as soon as someone shows the remotest care towards you, you feel the ocean pushing against your brick walls, threatening to rupture the dam.

It wretched your heart how tender Jimin was with you. You had almost broken down in his arms when he brushed over the skin where Yoongi and Hoseok had torn into. Your wounds are invisible. Vampire blood hides your cuts under fresh new skin, but doesn’t truly heal them. Yet Jimin had managed to sense your scars nonetheless.

He kissed them softly. You knew he wanted to kiss your mouth too, yet he didn’t. Is this what respect feels like?

Thus, you were completely willing when he fed on you. His preferred feeding spot is the inside of your thighs. When his cold breath arrived there, you could have sworn you felt something flutter in your core.

You had wanted him. You’re embarrassed to admit but you want him. Completely on your own accord, as the sire bond had also failed to lock in place with him too. You wondered if it was the damage Yoongi had done…

But then Saturday came, and the moment Taehyung’s fangs touched your flesh, you were swept away.

At first, it felt like drowning, as you struggled against the formidable waves that would not let you resurface. But then you calmed, a serenity took hold of you, and you began floating in the most soothing, clear blue water. The water healed you, almost, as you just drifted there on your back, watching the star-splatted night sky.

Taehyung swam up beside you, those sharp fangs of his never withdrawn, a wolfish yet reassuring smile, telling you it’s okay, everything will be okay, I can make you feel good.

And he did make you feel good.

The one thing you crave the most in this world is affection, you’ve come to learn. With Yoongi, you had wanted to feel something so badly, something other the numb wreckage of your mind you had trapped yourself in. Except he had made you feel worse, worthless, self-loathing just like him. With Hoseok, you were a broken doll, smile when expected to, laughing when required. You weren’t a person. With Jimin, you had been too grateful for his tenderness to function, unable to comprehend how, for once in the longest time, someone is treating you as if they care about you.

With Taehyung, you grew desperate to cling onto this intimacy.

It was like a drug, flooding your mind with peace and euphoria, drinking him in as much as he is drinking you. His kisses felt unhealthily good, and they tricked you into thinking that you’re worthy of someone like Taehyung, someone so beautiful, so intoxicating. He fucked you like he was making love to you, but also not. It came as waves - his sweetness, then his ferality.

You couldn’t get enough of it. You know it’s no good to feel so attached, when he probably sees you as no more than an object, his meal, but you couldn’t help it. You were just so desperate for that feeling of being desired.

He promised to make you feel good, make you forget, and that he did.

You hadn’t known what to expect from Jungkook. As you sat, waiting, on the bed of his Feed Room on Sunday, you pondered Jin’s words of his past.

He was a bright star once, before this curse. And even after, he had fed on humans once. The curiosity gnawed at your brain, pleading to find out what had happened.

Jungkook never showed up.

And so you slept the day and night away, replenishing your health with soup that Seokjin delivered, until you woke up and the cycle continued once more.

.

You watch the round dewdrop roll off the viridescent green leaf, and splatter onto the cold white tile. The greenhouse has soon become one of your favourite places to pass time. The walls of that manor are suffocating.

The faint sound of a piano whispers into your ears. You shut your eyes, appreciating the beauty of the pieces as it plays flawlessly. You wonder who is pouring out their emotions to the ebony and ivory sisters.

The glass of the greenhouse is fogged by the dawn dew, shielding you from the world outside and those who wish to take from you. Almost smiling, you pace around the kingdom of plants, enjoying the tranquility. Today is Thursday; Hoseok allows you to do as you please after he feeds on you; though it could be of his genuine good intent, you suspect it’s to instill you with a false sense of freedom. Let the dog out of its cage, let her roam their land, so the bitch never seeks to leave the house.

The thought of escaping had crossed your mind a profusion of occurrences the past week. Though, at this very moment, you don’t think there is much purpose in leaving anymore. Here, you at least are provided food and shelter, and maybe one or two friends whose friendship comes with a price. It’s not living in here, you’re merely surviving. But you’re surviving nonetheless. Compared to out there, where you’d be left to fend for yourself, constantly fleeing from seven vampires who you’re eternally bonded to.

You’ve thought about killing yourself too. A coward’s way out, but hey, you’d rather be a coward than a blood bag for the rest of your life. But when you had snuck into the kitchen last night after Yoongi’s heartless torment and raised a knife to your chest, an invisible force had pushed against your arms, freezing them in place and preventing them from taking action.

The sireship is so cruel. It humanises the vampires who captured you, makes you empathise with them, and forbids you from harming yourself.

On deeper thought, you wouldn’t have been able to kill yourself that way anyway. The moment your blood is spilled, in a house full of vampires, at least one of them is bound to smell it right away. They would have healed you before the pain could kick in - their way of sweeping everything under the rug nowadays - and you would’ve been back to the start. Except worse, as they would then know of your intention.

You crouch down beside a rose bush, petting its velvet white petals between your fingers. Flowers are beautiful yet fickles things, but roses have thorns. They lure people in with their beauty, but if anyone tries to pluck them off and keep one for themselves, they get cut. Your fingers travel down its stem to where a thorn is staring enticingly back at you.

You push the pad of your finger into its prick, hard. You don’t feel a thing. Not even as a bead of crimson oozes from the cut. It’s chilling.

Then you sense a presence behind you. When you turn, your eyes meet with those of Namjoon. Watering pot in one hand, he watches you, brows furrowed at your previous act.

“What are you doing?” There’s a hesitancy in his voice, almost as if he doesn’t recognise you.

“Admiring the roses.”

You no longer speak to Namjoon in that defying tone of yours. He was right, there’s no use in challenging him, trying to topple his superiority complex. It only took a week to tame you into a docile creature. You’re ashamed.

“No, I mean why did you purposely touch the thorns like that?” Still frowning, he stomps over, water in his gardening can sloshing about. As he sinks down beside you, his air of intimidation infiltrates your peaceful bubble.

“I… I don’t know, I just wanted to know what it feels like.” You mumble. Setting the pot aside, Namjoon snatches your finger and brings it close to his face for examination.

“Well, it was obviously going to cut you.” He hisses. When his nostrils flare, you know the scent of your blood is vastly tempting him.

“I know.” You pull your finger away, not that you don’t trust his self control, but because his touch was beginning to scald. The bond was trying to take hold of you despite it not being the day where you belong to him, and you hate how drawn you are to him because of it.

Spinning away, you stand and begin pacing towards the door. Your moment of peace has been disturbed, there’s no point in staying here anymore. But then you hear him call after you, “W-Wait.” The vulnerable expression that greets you when you look back takes you by surprise. “Um… You spend an awful lot of time in here nowadays… How come?”

You hadn’t been aware that Namjoon notices your growing presence in the greenhouse, not since you have never come across him here before. “I like it in here, I feel safe. Why, am I not allowed?” Your question lacks the challenging impudence it should have, more like a young girl asking her father for permission. You’re disappointed in yourself at how quickly you’ve deflated, even at the obnoxious Namjoon. Yet, you’ve lost your drive at standing your ground, you’ve got no fight left.

“N-No!” He is quick to dispute, standing up from his crouch as well. “I just meant… Nevermind.” His voice trails weakly to a tense silence. You watch his eyes flicker up at yours rather nervously, trying to decipher his intention. Then he speaks again, “I’ve just seen you here quite a few times… I enjoy being here myself; I find tending to my plants right before the sun rises fully a therapeutic pastime.”

His admission strikes you. You would never imagine a man as demanding, efficient and severe as Namjoon to enjoy a hobby as mundane as gardening. You’re not sure what to make of it to be honest, nor can you understand why he’s speaking to you so… conversationally. Is this his attempt at making peace with you?

“Well, you’ve tended to them very well, they’re beautiful. I enjoy being here too.” You guess you should accept his decency. He had been rather distant on Monday, leaving you to your own devices, only feeding on you once and hardly speaking a word. His contrasting moods are confusing.

Namjoon’s lips purse, brows raise ever so slightly, as if surprised by your kind response. His eyes flicker to your finger again. The tiny cut has yet to dry, fresh blood still leaking from the open wound despite its miniscule size. You should probably have some food; your body is frail, especially after Yoongi yesterday.

“I’m going to leave you to it, sir.” You nod courteously, but freeze as the name you address him as slips out of you. No, it was drawn out of you from the bond. It doesn’t take a second for heat to rush to your face in embarrassment. Namjoon noticeably stiffens. Gulps.

The coil within you is starting to wind. It tightens around your chest like thorned vines, piercing into your heart the more you try to wriggle free.

You know he feels it too.

But before he can take a step towards you, as you sense he intends to, you’re turning around and speeding out of the greenhouse. And it’s not until you’re within the confines of Hoseok’s Feed Room that you feel the liberty to breathe again, Namjoon’s sire bond reluctantly waning into the background.

.

You could tell something was off about Hoseok straight away when he entered the room. There were multiple telltale signs.

One: He was stumbling over his feet, tripping over to the bed in a drunken manner as he navigated the room. His words were slurred, hardly coherent sentences at all. His wine red hair in disarray.

Two: He smelled noticeably different. Though you’ve not spent more than two days as his feed, Hoseok has a clear distinct smell, most notable from the other vampires. He smells clean, sweet even; it’s the one thing you can’t help but indulge in about him. Yet even to your human nose, he had a weird, doggish musk to him as he approached you.

Three: From his rogue smile dribbled drying blood. And no, it wasn’t a mere droplet of crimson, he was drenched in blood, chin to toes. Despite the gore you’ve witnessed, it was still a chilling sight.

And four: Though his eyes were half shut, you briefly saw the way they flashed beneath his lids. Only half conscious, the other half gone and crazed, though full of purpose - purpose to get to you.

You catch him in open arms as he falls onto you, the mattress dipping at the sudden crash of his weight. “Hoseok, what happened?” Your voice harbours more concern than you would like to show, and you don’t know why you care at all.

His face presses against the crook of your neck, his lips stretching into a smile at your presence, right over your pulse. His hands wander to your waist, pulling you into his embrace. You recoil from his forwardness, but with nowhere to back away to except further into the bed. You try to ignore how pleasant the tip of his nose feels as it rubs against your skin.

“Missed you…” Hoseok mumbles, still grinning widely, mouth travelling to your jaw where his warm breath tickles. His breath should be cold; the heat tells you that the feeding of whoever’s blood this was recent.

You can’t help but feel flustered at his sudden touchiness. Of all vampires here, save for Jungkook, you would say you’ve been the least… intimate with Hoseok. It has never been your dynamic. It was always him flinging you around like a puppy shredding its new stuffed toy then chewing on the spilled cotton. So this is… new.

“Why are you acting like this?” You ask again, trying to pry his arms off your torso but to no avail.

“Sweetness…” He mutters unintelligibly, and you shudder as his teeth grazes your ear, an involuntarily sensual tingle following.

“H-Hoseok…” Your breath hitches, his proximity growing more and more unignorable. So you grab his face, cheeks cupped in one hand, and shake him for good measure. His closing lids flash open like gradually awakening from slumber, yet still not recovered from his daze. “What happened to you?”

“Werewolves.”

An icy cold settles in your bones. Werewolves. There are such things as werewolves as well. Vampires, witches and werewolves. What other creatures of horror are plaguing your world that you don’t know of? That explains that muttish stench he carries. The blood he’s soaked in… Is it his or theirs? You think you feel slightly sick.

Brushing his hair out of his face, you point his drooping head at you again. “Tell me what happened.”

“Those stupid mutts… picking a fight… Taehyung, Jungkook and I had to put them in their place.” Hoseok begins peeling himself off you, and finally your body is no longer crushed under his. Your hands around him fall to your side idly as you watch him stumble off the bed and head towards the door, though he doesn’t make it two steps before tumbling onto his knees. You hurry after him to catch his upper body before he falls completely onto the ground.

His shoulders in your grip, you try to examine him for any wounds, and though there are some tears in his clothes, the skin underneath has been healed clean. So why? “Hoseok, look at me.” Your voice is urgent, authoritative, it almost has the life it once had to it. His eyes lock onto yours, this time permanently without closing. They’re blank, the amber green murky with an unreadable shroud. “What’s wrong with you? You need to tell me.”

So with obvious effort, he grunts out, “Werewolf blood makes us… It’s like… wine to us. Too much and our mind is” hiccup “inebriated.”

Oh. You let out a sigh of relief.

Hoseok is drunk on werewolf blood.

Though, you’re not sure why you’re relieved that he’s alright. Surely you should be wishing for the opposite.

With tremendous endeavour, you drag him up onto his feet and walk him to the ensuite bathroom, huffing as you sit him down on the edge of the lavish bathtub that every Feed bathroom contains but you have yet to use. Hoseok is uncooperative, trying for detours on the bed, attempting to hop onto the sink. With the knowledge of his intoxicated state now, he appears like a little child, an innocently fascinated smile constantly plastered on his face, too easily impressed by even his own reflection in the mirror. For you, it’s a contrasting sight. Though he has always possessed a child-like temperament in his playfulness and love to goof at silly things, his usual underlying insanity is nowhere to be found right now.

It makes his company more soothing knowing that his mind absolves of any ulterior motive.

You don’t know why you’ve taken it upon you to do so, but you rummage around to find a clean towel. Glancing at the mirror as you twist the faucet to dampen the towel, you try not to notice how you scarcely recognise yourself anymore.

Hoseok groans at the wet coldness you press onto his chin, the dried crusted blood once again watering into a river of rusty brown-red. His fingers fly up to catch yours, trying to pry the scrubbing towel off his face. “Mmmm.” He whines in protest, shut eyes frowning. You ignore his brewing tantrum, towel travelling down to absorb the red stains of his neck, though you clean with more gentleness now.

He isn’t so bad like this, you guess.

Still, the more you try to understand him, the more you lose yourself in the maze that is his psyche. The more you think you can predict him, the more he comes out with an unexpected complexity that adds another layer to his mask. Who is Hoseok? The entertainer, the mood maker, always seeking to please his guests? The little boy who wishes not to be tamed? The spoilt brat whose greed grows with the more he has? Who is he really?

You straighten and regard his state. Head drooping sluggishly, fingers fidgeting at anything in his reach, you realise a cold towel isn’t going to help him. You’re all too familiar from the nights your uncle stumbled back, the reek of alcohol finding you before he enters the room, to know that this state of inebriation needs to be conquered before he falls asleep, lest you wish to face an ill-tempered brute the next day.

“Hoseok.” You tap his jaw lightly, rousing him, and he looks at you with surprising focus that makes you cower a little. “You should shower.”

He blinks sleepily, and you think he doesn’t comprehend at first, but then he takes your hand in his and stands up. As he does, his face zooms dangerously close to yours, pointy tip of his nose a hair’s breadth away from brushing your lips. Your heart jumps. There’s a lag in your brain before you know to step back.

“Come with me, then.”

It’s evident that his whole demeanour has shifted. Gone is the childish giddiness he had. In its place: a solemn gravity, seemingly out of nowhere, his lips pressed into a taut line, jaw tense, a pinning glare possessing you unwaveringly. Even his voice has dropped deeper, forgoing its tangy cheer.

It takes more than a second for what he means to sink in. He wants you to join his shower.

“W-What? No!” You yank your hand from his, heat blooming across your cheeks.

At this point, you’re no prude, intimacy has been breached with several if not most of these vampires you share a roof with. Yet your dynamic and circumstance with each of them differs greatly. With Yoongi, it is a release of mutual resentment; Taehyung, it’s a seductive dance to pleasure you both; Namjoon, a reluctant magnetisation that you wish not to dwell on; Seokjin, a confusion of emotions and desperation; Jimin, a soft gentle healing. There has always been a sexual implication hinting at the back of your mind with these five, and with some, you’ve acted upon it. But never with Hoseok.

Because Hoseok has been too much of an enigma. Never once showing that type of attraction towards you, only a fascination that sits on the borderline of lunacy. Always just - ogling at you like you’re a show pony, marveling at the taste of your blood as if it’s a drug. And the confusion he inoculates when he acts as your friend, like he genuinely enjoys your company. Too baffling.

But right now, this very evening, something stirs in your stomach. A new sensation as another layer of him is peeled back to reveal yet another persona. A man desiring affection?

He looks at you for a while, as if he wants to say something. The absence of the smile that usually stalks his lips every moment of the day is throwing you off. You think he’s going to push further but he doesn’t, he simply tilts his head and says, “Suit yourself, sweetheart.”

Legs still rather wobbly, he makes his way, hand on the gold marble of the sink to balance his wavering weight, towards the shower. Standing there, stupefied at his sudden change, you don’t realise that he does not intend on waiting for you to leave before striping until he tears his blood-drenched shirt off crudely. Buttons fly towards the wall, scattering about in little clinks.

Faint scar-like marks dart across his back like a violent painting.

You’re transfixed. The light lines are not ridged, merely running smoothly on the surface of his skin. Some look like claw marks, some bite marks seemingly from an animal. Those werewolves he mentioned? Some look fresh, while others older.

But that doesn’t make sense. Why does he, a vampire with supernatural healing, have scars?

“So do you want to join or not?” He slurs, face half turned towards you, yet eyes trained low. His profile is striking.

“I- No. Um. I’m going to bed. Bye.” Your eyes immediately fall to the ground. Still incredibly flustered, you spin around and head back to your room, mentally trying to shake off the image of his scar-inflicted back.

At the door, you pause, back still facing him, and ask, “Will you be fine alone?”

You hear the whirl of his belt being pulled out, blood continuing to roar in your ears.

“I’ve been alone all these centuries - I think I’ll be fine.”

That’s not what you meant, but when you hear his zipper, you hurry to shut the door behind you, pondering the sourness of his reply.

.

His shower is quick, the water sounds stop not too long after you climb into bed. Though, Hoseok stays in the bathroom for a period of time before coming out. You debated going in to check in on him incase he has fallen unconscious or something of that sort, whatever werewolf blood does to vampires. But you weren’t sure if he would be dressed, so you stay tucked under the covers in a small huddle, quietly trying to dissect his character in your head.

The door eventually opens, though it doesn’t swing open as Hoseok normally does to announce his entry. He’s still in that odd sombre mood.

Lying on your side, curled up into a small lump, your back is facing him. Eyes shut yet wide awake, you hear a drop of water hit the floor every few seconds. You can’t resist the urge to look up, to see whether he has washed away the blood and intoxication.

But at the sight of his naked body, manhood only covered by the towel hanging loosely around his waist, you nearly roll off. Though his skin is mostly dry, there is still a lustre glossed over his unearthly sculpted body. The room is dark, his silhouette cast by the bathroom lights behind him. Despite the poor vision, you are mesmerised by the ridges of his abdomen, chiseled so perfectly that you wonder how they feel like beneath your touch. A defined V is carved on his pelvis, pointing down to a devilish place you’re glad the darkness doesn’t allow you to see.

You catch sight of his hand that is bunching up the towel loosen, just in time for you to swing back down into your foetal position away from him before you hear the cloth drop carelessly.

Is he purposely trying to tizzy you?

Your eyes close firmly as he paces to the dresser, and they stay that firmly closed while you hear him dress, hear the bathroom lights click off.

You jolt when you feel the pressure on the other side of that mattress, your knees curling up tighter, inconspicuously inching further away. To your relief, as he climbs into bed, he keeps his distance, doesn’t reach for you like you were scared he would.

The silence hums loudly, rhythmed by his shallow breaths. Is he finally sober?

No sound. Not a word. For Hoseok, that’s worrying.

Damn yourself, why do you care? “Are you feeling better?” You almost bite your tongue as you ask, cursing your inability to keep to yourself. At least you don’t turn to face him.

Silence, still. Steady breaths.

You begin to wonder if he fell asleep the second his back sunk onto the mattress. It wouldn’t be a surprise.

But then you hear the lightest sigh. “Feeling less drunk, but head still pounding. Dizzy.”

You’re unaccustomed to the deepness of his voice, wondering where its usual loud annoying cheeriness has strayed off to. You don’t want to say you miss it, you certainly don’t. You just… grew so used to it.

This version of Hoseok is too human. It’s uncanny.

Despite laying there in silence, it doesn’t feel silent at all. The tension is blaringly loud in the air, almost a physical pressure pushing up against you, goading you to do something. Turn around and face him. Let him feed on you to replenish. But no, he’s fed a lot today already. Your collar still feels sore. Find another vampire and ask them to cure him. But at this time of day, where the sun is already almost completely uncovered, they should all be asleep. Then at least talk to him, something, before he resumes back to his normal self that you have to cower from.

“What are those scars on your back?”

Your voice startles him. Though you can’t see well, you notice him jolt. Was that too much to ask? Too personal? And honestly, do you actually want to know the truth to your question or would you sleep much sounder without it?

He doesn’t answer.

Instant regret. You count your breaths, shut your eyes and try not to be hyper-aware of short the distance of an arm’s length actually is between your back and his side.

You shouldn’t have asked that. Of course it would be a sensitive topic. What else could explain the literal scars on his back that have failed to heal even with his supernatural abilities?

There is a line drawn between you and Hoseok. There are boundaries, though some particularly vague and hazy, between you and each vampire, but the line is especially distinct with him. You have to remember, you can’t act the same as you do with Seokjin or Taehyung with someone like Hoseok or Yoongi. He’s not your friend. None of them are your friends, really. Hoseok, one of the least of all.

Who knows what psychological trigger you’ve switched on by asking such question? Curiosity did kill the cat afterall.

“They…” It’s your turn to jounce, his response unexpected. “I don’t know, I guess there’s a limit to what my abilities can heal, and to be honest, I like the look of them anyway. I think there’s a word for it, but my mind isn’t working properly… M-something. Ma- You know, the opposite of sadism.”

You know.

“Masochism…?”

“Yeah, that. Masochism.”

The room goes quiet after he mutters the last syllable of a word you would never anticipate to be his answer. Hoseok is a masochist? He enjoys pain inflicted onto him? If it were even possible for your blood to go colder, you feel a chill spear through your veins.

Fuck, these vampires are dark. And you thought you were morbid…

“Why…?” So Hoseok is at the opposite of the spectrum from Yoongi. You vaguely understand Yoongi, how he lashes out due to self hatred. It’s a cycle of pushing people away due to fear of intimacy from his loneliness, and as a result feeling more alone. He likes to inflict pain because that way, he can convince himself that he’s an unlovable monster, and pretend that he is choosing to be alone. But with Hoseok, you cannot fathom how or why he enjoys pain. How could anyone? “If you don’t mind me asking…”

You’re tempted to turn, eye contact is human nature, but you don’t think you can stomach it. There is an inexplicable weight, an intensity bestowed. You feel as though you’re sinking in quicksand, a slow agonising submergence, swallowed up by the burden you’re seeking to know about but can’t resist.

“It’s so boring, living like this.” He mumbles. You hear him rustle around to get comfortable, or maybe to inch closer to you. “We’ve been alive for more than two thousand years. Life begins to get rather insipid, nothing really... stimulates me anymore. Yeah, fight with demons, get wasted on werewolf blood, sure, pretty fun.” Hiccup. “But after so many years, you start to not really feel anything anymore.”

Truthfully, you think you get it. You get his inertia, the lack of anything exciting him about life.

“Like yeah, I know how you see me. I’m this over-the-top, dramatic class clown caricature, so you probably won’t believe me when I tell you about how bored I actually am. But I am.” hiccup

“So pain is your remedy?”

“I guess, yeah, pain is my remedy. You know that feeling when your skin gets cut, that rush of cold that infiltrates you?” Unfortunately, all too well. “It’s pretty exciting. There’s no feeling like it.” hiccup “It’s just so refreshing, to be able to feel somewhat mortal. Get torn apart a little, because I know I’ll stitch back up together anyway. It’s the only thing that brings me thrill nowadays. Before we found you.”

“What if you don’t?” Vampires are immortal, but not invincible afterall.

“Then I guess I don’t.”

Hoseok says it with a finality, as if death is no big ordeal to him. If it happens, it happens. He’s not self-destructive perse, you know he isn’t actively looking to die. He just wants to feel something. Like you.

Yeah, you think you get it…

Despite the difference in the sufferings you’ve been exposed to, monotony breeds insensitivity to most stimulants of life. Food tastes blander, colours duller, sense of self starts to ebb away. Hoseok had been a cheerful man before becoming a vampire, one requiring extravaganza in his life, flamboyance, because his life was a show, the embodiment of entertainment. How long did that take to crumble? For him to grow out of parties and parades because he realised that they could no longer fill that void?

The fall from a life of exhilaration to one where you were only passing time is tragic. He puts on a show to convince himself that he’s having fun, imposes it on everyone around him.

You’re beginning to dissect the animus of Hoseok, what truly underlies his insanity.

It’s disconcerting, how much he’s opening up when he isn’t sober. He has kept this in for a while, you can guess.

“Hey…” He slurs sleepily, though you hear his purpose, a sort of determination to stay away and say one last thing. And finally, you turn.

In this darkness, you hardly see a thing more than the shadows cast around him. You can’t see his facial expression, and you think it’s perhaps a good thing; you don’t wish for it to confuse you more. What throws you off is the heat emitted from his body. Vampires are cold creatures, warmth absent in their touch. You try not to think about the werewolf blood still coursing through his veins to keep him warm, how it makes it feel as though a human lays beside you rather than the monster in actuality.

“Yes?”

Your reply falls flat. As your vision adjusts to the pitch black, you are hyper aware of the stillness of the night that encases you.

“I…”

He.

It’s silent. So silent you can hear the thrumming of your chest.

“Yes?” You repeat, egging him on. His hesitancy has a depressive tone to it, it is somehow so genuine, rather than for dramatic effect like one would expect from him.

“I’m sorry.”

Those two words shoot into you like bullets of chaos and disarray, their shells ricocheting. Your ear rings as if deafened by an explosion. Maybe this is a dream. You can’t tell these days anymore.

“I’m sorry for everything.” He sounds throaty, still dragging his words as he tries to grapple at sobriety but fails. He also sounds like he means what he’s saying, like he feels terribly guilty.

You don’t understand.

“What do you mean… Why…?” Your eyes drop to the distance between you, fixing on the shadow of a crease you can barely make out.

“I’m just-” Hoseok tosses onto his side to look at you. You stare at that shadow harder. “I’m sorry, okay?”

“But wh-”

“Every time I look at you, I just want to, I don’t know, shake you. No, not you. Shake myself, or my brothers. I want to shatter some glass, sprint at a wall, I don’t know. I don’t fucking know what I’m saying. But yeah, every time I look at you, I just feel so fucking bad, man. I’ve- I guess I’ve been pretty good at keeping the guilt at bay all these centuries - we kind of have to, or we wouldn’t have survived two thousand years. But like, when I look at you, I can’t forget how much you’ve suffered. That kind of damage scars you forever. I can fucking see that you’re a shell of a person.”

Your throat constricts. You hate this feeling. Not that people have ever pitied you before, seeing as there was no witness of your uncle’s abuse, there was no one to feel sorry for you. But right now, you get it. That wash of humiliation from the small satisfaction you gain from someone pitying you, someone acknowledging how bad you have it, all the shit you’ve been through. It makes you sick.

Yes, you’re damaged. Good that he knows. Good that it tears apart his conscience. You’re glad that it makes him feel horrible.

Then why? You want to ask him. But you know he’s not finished with his piece.

“I see that you try to hide how fucking empty you are when you’re with me, try to act like you’re enjoying my company and actually find my jokes funny. I guess that’s why I keep trying to make you laugh. I know I’m annoying as fuck. Hell, I would hate me if I were anyone but me. But, I don’t know, I just want to stir some reaction from you, make you feel less hollow. I know it fucking sucks for you here, and I want to make it suck less, you know?”

A shiver fires down your spine. You have never thought about it like that.

Drunk words, sober thoughts. Or so the saying goes.

All this time, you thought that Hoseok views you as some sort of dancing monkey, forcing you to perform tricks for him, smiling, laughing, stroking his ego.

But the truth is, he wants to spark some life back into you. His jokes, his stories, his antics. They have been for you, not him.

Your throat trembles.

“All that shit with your uncle, God, it was brutal, even for me. It was the fact that you couldn’t escape from it. You were living through hell for how many years? All because of us. And now you’re stuck here with us, have to continue to endure. It just doesn’t stop for you, does it? And I know it makes no sense coming from me. Especially from me, I guess. You know, I really wish I could control myself. But that sensation that overtakes our minds, I wish I could describe it to you, it’s fucking insane. Your blood tastes like a drug to me, I don’t know, heroin or something. Except it doesn’t kill me, it kills you.” His voice is drifting, quieter, duller, slower. Like he’s mumbling without knowing he’s speaking out loud. The words just keep tumbling out.

Glancing up, you see that his eyes are shut, chest rising heavily, on the brink of sleep. You want him to fall asleep. You don’t want to keep listening. Because it sickens you knowing that buried under all those masks is an emotionally empathetic person, hardly the maniac you thought him to be. Because it would be so much easier if he was that, so much easier to hate your tormentor and see him as a monster.

But actually, he isn’t. He senses your pain, holds remorse for his actions.

You hate it. You hate it.

Just let me believe that you’re pyschopathic.

“Anyway... what I was saying is that…” His head droops to the other side. Sleep will siege him soon, you’re glad to know. “I know I’m a hypocrite. Namjoon would give me hell if he heard me sympathising with the Feed, but I truly mean no malicious intent towards you... This is just the way things are for us…” His breathing slows, deepens. Words only just more than a slur of syllables. You lay there, clutching your fists, waiting for it to be over, but only for you to lie awake and ponder this revelation for hours. “I wish… I wish it didn’t have to be you... after all that you went through. But I guess you only went through that because of what you are… Hurting you was the only way to protect you...”

You don’t even hear it at first, silently contemplating his words. But then the last bit sinks in.

“Wait, wait, what?” You break your silence. Hoseok has stopped making sense, you shouldn’t expect more from a drunken vampire, but he had been making sense before. “What do you mean?”

“What do I mean what?” He mumbles and rolls away, but you grab his sleeve and prevent him from turning and entering a realm of dreams.

“What you said in the end. About how… I don’t know... I went through that shit because of what I am. What do you mean? And hurting me was the only way to protect me.” Your blood has gone icy. You don’t want to be left with nothing but those words and your endless imagination of what they could possibly mean for the next few hours.

“You know, the spell…”

Spell.

“What spell?” But his eyes are completely closed, hardly a stir at your question to indicate he heard you at all. His sleeve bunches up under your fist, you gently rattle his face. “Hoseok, what spell? What are you talking about?”

He tries to shake you off, frowning in annoyance at your disturbance. “You know. That spell, the one to keep you safe.”

“Keep talking about the spell, Hoseok. Please. Safe from what?” You continue to shake him, stomach tying into knots. What spell?

“Safe from us, whatever Creatures of the Night your blood attracts.” Vexed, he grabs your wrist, eyes half opening, and shoves them away. “The spell the angels put, remember?”

“I don’t remember. Tell me about the spell, what was it?” You hear the urgency, the degrading desperation in your voice, but you need to know. You need to. What fucking spell to keep you safe?

“It’s complicated. Some twisted magic? You know that car accident with your parents? That was some Hell’s magic, when the demons started to find you... Angel blood isn’t just valued by vampires. They would’ve taken you if the angels hadn’t been watching closely and intervened. Then they, the angels I mean, decided to shield your aura, you know, your angel aura. The thing that lets the supernatural know that you have angel blood? It’s a distinctive scent for us, and I’m guessing other creatures too. It attracts demons and whatnots and helps them hunt you. It’s like a beacon of light. So they had to suppress your aura. And the only way to suppress angel aura is to suppress the angel themselves. Make them suffer, endure tremendous pain, dull their virtues, make them lose the will to live, et cetera. That way you don’t ‘shine’ anymore, and we won’t be able to find you. So I guess they did some sort of spell, or whatever heavenly magic, on your uncle so that his mind was warped and unconsciously fixated on hurting you... It’s fucking dark and twisted, especially for angels... To protect you from demons by making you suffer so much that you lose the core of your being. To destroy you in order to save you from hell and the creatures from it. That’s what irks me... Don’t know why but it just makes me feel so fucking bad…”

Something churns violently in your stomach. And you would have thrown up if you had eaten much previously.

None of it makes sense. Or maybe it’s starting to make too much sense.

You can’t believe it. You fucking can’t believe it.

You let Hoseok drift off to sleep, the weight of his body falling limp. You let go of his face.

You just can’t. Fucking. Believe it.

There’s no way this is true. He’s drunk. He has made up some story in his head. There’s no way.

Because there’s simply no way that the past few years of your endless torture has been a gift from the angels, a path paved for you to endure. To shield you. To save you.

In what sick universe…

You scramble off the bed and rush into the bathroom, ignoring the loud pads of your feet against the cold wooden floor. Your fingers tremble as you turn the light switch on and slam the door behind you with your back. For a moment, all you hear is the ocean of your roaring blood.

That’s why that night your parent died had felt so strange, so off, your disagreement with your parents so out of the blue. That’s why there was a storm. That’s why a car drove into you and killed your parents. That’s why your grandmother died so shortly after despite normally having great health. That’s why there was a sudden change in your uncle’s demeanour, as if a switch had been flipped in him. That’s why he had locked you in the basement, broke your legs routinely to stop you from escaping, beat you and your sister without reason.

It was demons and Creatures of the Night and a so-called “protection” ploy from angels.

You want to scream. As your back slides down the door, you want to scream at the top of your lungs. The amalgamation of emotions is tearing you apart, piece by piece.

This is it, the tipping point, the loss of your sanity.

His words play over and over again in your head, a drunken confession that he probably did not realise the meaning of in his state.

To protect you from demons by making you suffer so much that you lose the core of your being. To destroy you in order to save you from hell and the creatures from it. To protect you from demons by making you suffer so much that you lose the core of your being. To destroy you in order to save you from hell and the creatures from it. To protect you from demons by making you suffer so much that you lose the core of your being. To destroy you in order to save you from hell and the creatures from it.

Like a prayer.

Panting hysterically, you feel your mind shattering into a million shards. You can’t comprehend it. You don’t want to. You don’t want to know that the pain you felt, day after day, for what felt like an eternity had been a plot. A fucking spell. You don’t want to know. You don’t want to. You don’t want. You don’t. You.

You. Can’t. Do. This.

01:01. The crash. The beatings. The death of your sister.

It’s possible that you are crying, shaking, but you’re not aware.

And after crumbling on the bathroom floor, for minutes, maybe hours, you make your decision.

You run.

.

The sun is still out.

That means they can’t come out yet. They can’t come after you. They’re probably still asleep, unbeknownst of your escape.

The house had been eerily quiet as you snuck out. And as soon as you stepped foot outside the front door, you had felt it.

The incredible weight holding you down. Like the manor itself was shackled to your ankles. Walking away felt like trudging through mud, dragging this boggling heaviness with you. Every sire bond that has formed was shrieking in your head, wailing, begging for you to stop leaving.

It was purely your willpower and determination that gave you the strength to overcome the supernatural ties that tethered you to those vampires. You had to ignore how much your limbs were aching, how much your heart was straining. You just had to run away. Keep going and don’t look back. It was melting your brain into a puddle, but your mind had been in ruins anyway.

You didn’t know where you were going, the forest faced every side of the house, but you just kept going, as far from them as possible. If you ran down one direction, you were bound to meet an end at some point, find civilisation.

There is no plan. No plan as you fled the walls of those wretched vampires. You just knew you couldn’t stay, couldn’t continue living like that with the knowledge that was spilled onto you. There’s no way you could have pretend not to know and face those vampires, let them drain your blood when they had been part of the reason behind all your suffering.

Fuck the Heavens and the Hells. Fuck the angels, the demons, the vampires, werewolves, witches, all the damnable fucking supernatural.

Angel blood in your veins. A fucking curse.

Every bone in your body is starting to hurt, lungs growing weaker every gasping breath. You keep running, ignoring the overbearing ache and faint voices in your head chanting sorrysorrysorry.

Sorry, child, we’re sorry.

.

The sun has set. It is dark. And you are still running through the forest, no inkling at all of how far you’ve gone and how far is left until you find your rescuer.

The night is eerie, enveloping you in a fog of oblivion, no perception of anything beyond this forest. Howling can be heard from a distance, or what you hope to be a distance. You’re hanging on by a thread, but only just. You don’t know how much longer you will last, you just know that you’ve passed the point of no return now. They would have been searching for you since the daylight began to dwindle. They are on their way.

There had been so many instances where you had just stopped, panting, and stared at your own two feet, wondering what the fuck you’re doing. Because where are you running to? Who is going to believe you when you tell them about the fucking vampires looking for you? Who is going to care about some crazy girl?

What is the point in running? Living, even?

But an instinct within you, the one sparked by this revelation, didn’t allow your legs to stop. The whole world is against you. The whole fucking world. Creatures of the Night are hunting you, the angels have abandoned you to a cruel spell, your family is rotting six feet under. No one is going to fight for you, except yourself.

You are a survivor.

Energy waning from the lack of food and the sparing gulps of water you had salvaged from a brooke, the only thing fuelling you is your adrenaline. At this time of night, your vision is no more than dark silhouettes of trees and rocks. Your limbs are numb. The only thing telling you that you haven’t stopped moving is the constant crunch of leaves beneath your feet, crisply ringing. Keep going. Just keep running.

Where are you?

You hear a voice, his voice. No, you don’t hear it, you sense it. You feel his worry, his fear.

Where did you go? Please.

They can’t possibly be near. Even with vampire speed, there’s no way that can catch up with you so quickly when you’ve been gone for hours.

Please.

The pleading makes your heart lurch. You stop, heaving over your knees.

Guilt. It’s the guilt. Why do you feel guilty for leaving? No, you don’t feel guilty, the bond is making you feel it. It’s trying to manipulate you.

I can’t lose you…

But that’s definitely his voice, his inner thoughts. Seokjin is afraid, panicked, in a frenzy to look for you. Genuine concern.

Maybe you should go back. What are you even doing anyway? Where are you going? There’s no purpose.

It also dawns on you that they will pick up on your scent right away. Even if they don’t find you tonight, everywhere you go, they will find you eventually. They had found you even though your aura had been muffled by your uncle’s abuse. They somehow found you. They are always going to find you.

Maybe you should give up. Just submit to them for the rest of your eternity. Either way, you would be suffering, the angels will see to that. Just give up.

Your fists tighten on your knees. It’s freezing cold; your clothes shredded by sharp grappling branches, the midnight breeze percolates pass the futile material and assails your skin. Thoughts racing at an uninterpretable speed, your lost purpose becomes blaringly apparent.

It’s not so bad in there.

Please be okay. Please come back. Don’t go.

They kind of care about you, in their own warped sense of what caring is. Right? They almost love you, some of them. Right? Right? Right? Right? Right?

I miss you. I’m coming for you. I love you.

Right?

Please be okay.

“SHUT UP!” You sob out loud. In the distance, your outburst scare away a flock of sleeping birds, their wings flapping in synchrony to your heartbeat. “Please just shut up.” As tears erupt like a dam, your slam your hands to your ears to shield you from the sound. But of course, it doesn’t stop. It isn’t a sound. It’s a feeling. It’s the sire bond telling your mind his emotions. “Shut up. Stop making this harder for me. Shut up.”

Falling onto your knees, you simply break. Every fibre of your mind is peeling away, your entity flaking into dust. The cold stings your damp cheeks, trickling down to your neck where you remember so vividly the feeling of their fangs.

They almost love you, some of them.

That’s good enough, right?

That’s better than… nothing.

More birds shriek into the silence of the night, so loud that you hear them clearly despite your covered ears.

Are they here? Already?

You keep crying, soil eating your crumpled frame.

And because of your sobs, your firmly shut eyes, your covered ears, you don’t hear the footsteps approach you until you sense a looming presence behind.

Here.

Which one is it?

Slowly, every inch of you trembling, you turn.

A shocked man stares at you in wide eyes. Some sort of camper or hiker judging by his attire.

Not here.

“Oh my god. Please help me. Please help me.” You crawl over to his feet, ignoring the protest of your exhaustion and your pitiful position. “Sir, please help.” Your luck has turned. Finally. You’re going to be okay. Finally. The tears fall harder.

“W-what happened? Are you hurt? Lost?” Gradually processing the dirt covered girl collapsed and crying at his feet, the man bends down and examines you in concern.

“Yes, please, just take me somewhere safe. Please, they’re going to find me.” The wash of relief almost overwhelms you to unconsciousness.

“You need to tell me what happened, little girl. You’re in shock. Who’s going to find you?”

In the dark, you can’t see well, but something in his eyes makes you trusting of him. It’s the genuine worry and care. What a normal man is supposed to look like. You’re saved. You’re finally saved.

“We have no time, just take me… take me to the police.” Your shaking hand grips at his fleece in desperation. You don’t know what you can tell him or the police, you don’t know anything more powerful than vampires than can protect you from them, but you can think about that later. You just need to go now.

“Okay, okay. Let me carry you.”

No. Child, no.

This time, it isn’t Seokjin’s voice. Someone else, like that faint chanting you occasionally hear.

“Thank you.” You shift into a position that better enables the man to reach under your legs. Behind him, you see a pack of black dogs, creeping warily towards you, sniffing. “Are those your dogs?”

“Yes, don’t worry, they are clever boys.”

When his palm touches the underside of your thigh, ice pierces into your skin.

No. Not him. Not safe.

You know that ice. You know that inhuman lack of body heat.

As he hoists you up, you nudge him away and roll back onto the ground. “Wait.” Moonlight illuminating part of his face, you survey his pale skin, his devilishly good looks. His brows pinch in confusion, but there’s a twinkle in his eye.

Not human.

You glance over at the dogs again. Sleek black coat, long sharp ears, crimson eyes. Where their legs should meet the ground are misty shadows, like ghosts.

Not dogs.

The man’s lips quirk up. His camper’s attire dissipates like dust to reveal a black suit underneath.

You run.

Twigs snap beneath your feet as you sprint as fast as your calves allow, away from whatever they are. Your chest aches from fatigue, ankles screaming for you to stop. As you run, you ignore the branches reaching out to scratch your cheek, your arms. You hardly even feel the cuts against the twisting feeling of dread in your gut.

Angel blood isn’t just valued by vampires.

Looking back, you see the man stood rooted where he is. He isn’t coming after you, but the smirk he wears is enough to tell you not to stop. But not long later, you realise why he isn’t chasing.

Growls, howls of excitement, absolute beastly noises erupt from left and right. The hounds are running at an astounding speed beside you, their pelts pitch black despite the moonlight that they should reflect. Jaws open, they pant at you wildly as they hunt you. Zigzagging between the trees to create a misleading path, you try to create as much distance from them as possible. But they’re quick things. Clever boys.

Soon, they are narrowing in on you, until the pack is an arrowhead surrounding you. The closest hound snaps his jaw at your ankle, barely missing you. The loud crunch from the collision of its canines as he shuts his jaw, you know your foot would have been gone if you had been one second slower. You don’t have time to yelp. You focus on running ahead, slipping between boulders and following your instinct for directions.

Where are you? You hear Seokjin once again.

I’m here! You try to scream down the bond. Save me.

You don’t know why. You don’t know why you are asking for help from the very ones you had been running from in the first place. But you just know that, whatever is hunting you, your fate would be much worse with them.

I’m coming. His utter distraught is gone, replaced by a calm composed determination instilled by the awaited reply from you at last. And you know at this moment that it was a mistake to flee. Seokjin at the very least, regardless of everyone else, would never harm you, would always look after you. Why did you leave? Why had you acted upon your deranged irrationality? We’re looking for you. Don’t worry.

Relief. Because that is a promise. And you trust him.

But now the guilt of fleeing from them kicks in. What the bond had made you feel every step you took, that ripping sensation as if you’re tearing apart something substantial, you can imagine being a mammoth’s weight worse for them with their heightened senses.

Something is chasing me. Please help me. I’m sorry.

His fear returns, this time a formidable wave wiping his away short-lived relief. What is chasing you?

Dogs, big black dogs. There was also this man.

Bloody hellhounds and a Drude demon. Shit.

You have no idea what those creatures are but you can tell by the explosion of terror in Seokjin that it’s some of the worse you could encounter.

Distracted by his disclosure, you misplace your foot on an uneven log and topple down, the bark you crash onto scraping fire against your skin. Pain explodes at the back of your skull where it hits something severe. You don’t see beyond a sea of pulsing black.

Then something rips into your leg. You don’t know if you are screaming.

.

You drift in and out of consciousness.

Tiny stars dance around the deep blue sky. They look pretty.

You think you hear something growling, whimpering maybe.

What is that leaking from you so briskly? Blood? Hmm.

Darkness.

.

You hear voices? Yes, voices. Unintelligibly arguing. But if you shut your eyes again and stop shifting on the ground, they could pass off as background music.

Then the volume grows. Fighting. Grunting. More Growling. More whimpering.

But you feel safe. You don’t know why but you feel safe. That’s how you know you’ve lost your mind for good. There are virtual flames burning around you, warmth licking at your broken body. Nothing can get past the flames. Nothing can hurt you. This phantom fire is shielding you.

You heart is burning too, fighting. Someone’s sireship is fuelling you, feeding you, forcing life back into you.

When you open your eyes, when a vaguely familiar face appears, hovering over you, obstructing your view of the towering treetops and wavering constellations. You can’t quite put of your finger on his name, but you know you’re safe.

His eyes are big, full of concern and trouble, his hair long, black, wavy but tucked behind his ears. A black liquid is splattered across him, some on his beautiful face that is taut in vexation.

You don’t protest when he carries you in strong sturdy arms, lifelessly flopping against his chest.

He is warm. Fire. Safe.

And then he is zooming past the trees, so fast the wind tickles at you violently, your limp body jostling. Though half unconscious, your eyes don’t leave him, studying his angular jaw, the round crook of his nose.

J…

A droplet of black liquid rolls off his chin and splats onto your arm. It tingles like weak acid, faintly sour, an unearthly sensation.

Your heavy lids seal you back into the darkness.

.

The first thing you notice when you wake is the softness around and under you. Arms from beneath you draw away, leaving your weight to sink into the bed. Your eyes stay shut.

Warmth is pressed onto your lips, gently, careful as if one hard prod would shatter you. Your throat knows to swallow the stream flowing into your mouth, its taste unfamiliar, but safe.

Warm. And safe.

Almost immediately, you feel its effects catapult into your system. Skin everywhere begins to sew back together, bones like toppled buildings building brick by brick, the chaos in your mind whispered to sleep. That protective fire around you blazing.

Still, you don’t open your eyes. You don’t want to. You can’t face them.

“Troublesome little shit.” He pushes the hair out of your face, touch possessing a surprising delicacy that contradicts his insult and completely entangles your preconceived conception of him. But his voice… So soothing like honey. Not what you expected.

You train your breath to be steadily slow, eyes to be unmoving under your closed lids, hoping to pass off as asleep. The silence creaks, followed by a rustle of bedding. Then you feel the heat of his breath stroke the tiny hairs on your forehead. You suppress a flinch. But he presses his lips onto your skin, so tenderly you almost open your eyes to see if it’s really Jungkook.

“Please don’t leave again.”

And then he’s gone.

❦

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19/01/2020

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