#if tumblr glitches and changes all the answers to be the same like the last poll i made im gonna scream tho

[two-calicos-in-a-trenchcoat]

Spider parrot knife

Large hunting knife (and also small hunting knife cuz they look the same)

Dagger

Multitool

Rainbow throwing knives

FANCY DAGGER

[charliemwrites]

Sooooo I learned a valuable lesson last night. Which is not to draft things in tumblr. Because I wrote almost all of this in drafts, was like 15 minutes from posting. And then the app glitched when I changed the song I was listening to and lost everything.

I’m not entirely sure I wrote this version half as well as the original, which is maddening. But please enjoy this next part to the Mister(s) Steal Your Girl (poly 141) series.

Content:Safe/Sane/Consensual Intimacy

You honestly didn’t expect to speak to Kyle again after the bookshop encounter. Sure, you exchanged numbers and he seemed so sincere, but your faith in reading people has been a bit shaken as of late.

That said, you wouldn’t have held it against him if you didn’t. You’d had a wonderful time meeting someone new, even if just for a moment. He seemed like a busy man in a high-stress job, it wouldn’t be a surprise if he looked at your open-relationship-with-a-fiance situation and decided it was too much drama.

But the very next day after meeting him, he sends you a text. Repeating that he had a great time and asking if you’ve already started any of the books you bought.

You try (and probably fail) not to giggle like a schoolgirl every time he texts you. He���s as sweet through the phone as he was in person. Throughout the week, he checks on you (more messages than you’ve gotten from your fiance in a month) asking after your days and nights and generally chatting.

On Thursday at lunch, you ask if he’d like to meet up again, heart clenching anxiously. Nearly throw your phone across the break room when his name pops up as an incoming call.

When you answer, he doesn’t even waste time on a greeting.

“I’d like to take you on a date, luv,” he specifies, voice silky and amused in your ear.

Date one is a nice dinner. He shows up at the door with flowers. You have to take a second to blink away the mist in your eyes.

“Sorry, sorry,” you hurry to say, summoning a smile. “Just no one’s ever bought me flowers. Thank you, they’re wonderful.”

And then you realize that probably sounds pathetic and quickly turn away to deposit them in a vase. (Miss the baffled and almost offended frown on Kyle’s face as that processes.)

At dinner, the two of you toast by tapping your appetizers together. He feeds you bites of his meal from his own fork, and you let him try your wine, giggling at the faces he makes.

The night ends (after dessert, a walk in the park, and a nightcap at a quiet bar) at your front door. Kyle fits a big, warm hand on your waist, pulls you in… and drops a chaste kiss to your cheek.

You try not to let your disappointment show, but he must catch it because he chuckles and gently nudges your face back into position. Graces you with another kiss at the corner of your mouth.

“I want to, darling,” he admits, so close you’re sharing air. “Trust me, I want to. But I need you to know I’m doing this for the right reasons too.”

Touched and a little choked up, you hug him tight, cheek pressed to his chest. His breath stutters. And then his strong arms are curling around you, tucking you in, his whole body becoming a warm haven.

“Can we… can we do this again?” you ask hopefully.

“Darling, I’d take you out tomorrow if you’d let me.”

Date two is bowling, which you find Kyle is actually terrible at, despite being a sniper. You laugh and joke through three games, trouncing him each time. He doesn’t seem to mind losing in the slightest, and even takes you out for a victory ice cream afterwards. You hold hands while you lick at the cone.

Date three, you invite him to a wine and paint night. He seems willing, though unsure. By the end, though, the two of you are giggling and tipsy, paint on your hands and faces. He kisses you against the passenger door of his car, lips soft and gentle. Moans when the tip of his tongue skims your bottom lip.

On date four, you sing to the radio in the car. Blush when you catch him sneaking glances at you, but also notice that he goes around the same block twice. Tease that you’re going to be late if he keeps stalling.

At the end of the night, he sweeps you in close on the dance floor.

“Come home with me?” he asks in your ear.

Your heart stumbles as you nod, cheeks hot.

He barely gets you in the door before pressing you back against it. Fingers in your hair, body one firm line pressed flush to yours. Kissing earnest but not rough, flicking at your bottom lip until you open for him with a soft sigh. He tastes like heaven, like the drinks you shared before this. Your fingers curl into his Henley, tugging him closer, arching your back.

The desire he’s been steadily building in your gut bursts into an inferno. You’re burning all over, can barely breathe. Dizzy with his cologne.

You break the kiss with a squeak when he scoops up beneath the thighs.

“I-I’m too heavy!” you gasp, clinging tight.

“Like hell you are,” he scoffs. “Come back here, I’m not done kissing you.”

You hesitate, taking stock. But he doesn’t feel like he’s straining; didn’t even make that mortifying grunt noise. Feel secure enough to lean back just a bit to check his expression.

There’s not an ounce of effort there. Just liquid dark eyes focused on your swollen lips, tilting his chin to coax you back. You go with a little thrill in your stomach, messier this time, teeth scraping.

He bumps you against the wall on his way to the bedroom. It doesn’t hurt but it makes you laugh against his cheek.

“Love your laugh,” he murmurs into your neck. “Could listen to it all day.”

Somehow that makes you flush more than the hard bulge pressing against your ass. So you shove your tongue in his mouth again to shut him up, breathless at his tongue curling against yours.

You squeal when he drops you on the bed with a little bounce, a brilliant, cheeky smile your reward. Then he tugs his shirt off and your mind goes utterly blank.

He’s a monument of strength and discipline, power in every plane of hard-earned muscle. There are glossy scars peppering his skin, and you’re fascinated as much as you are sad for his pain. He looks like a young god. You’ve seen marble statues half as beautiful as him.

“You’re bloody gorgeous,” you whisper, crawling to the edge of the bed.

He shivers and leans into your palms as they explore up his toned stomach, across the defined lines of his chest and shoulders, down his arms. Leave open-mouthed kisses against long-healed wounds and patches of smooth skin alike, appreciating every part of him.

He uses your interlocked fingers to draw you away, bending to meet you halfway. Speckles kisses over your cheeks and jaw, down to a tender spot beneath your ear that makes you hum. You could melt into him and just float.

He pauses there, breathes you in. “Can I take this off?” he asks, plucking at your shirt. You hesitate, just for a beat — but it’s enough to have Kyle pulling back a little.

“We can stop here,” he offers. “Or we can just keep doing this. Whatever you want, luv, I’m not fussed.”

You duck your head, but he doesn’t let you escape for long, gently guiding your gaze up by the chin.

“Talk to me?” he asks.

“I-I want to keep going,” you say, “I’m just… and you’re so…”

He shakes his head, kisses you quiet. “I’m not anything but a man that wants to make his girl happy. In whatever way she’s okay with, yeah?”

You have to blink away another sting of inopportune tears. Then reach for your shirt and pull it off yourself.

“Bloody hell,” he murmurs, eyes going big.

You flush as he nudges you back, spread out amongst the neat sheets and pillows. His eyes trace every inch of you over and over, hands quick to follow. The contrast of his rough palms on your skin makes you squirm and sigh. He touches you like you’re something special, like he wants to savor you.

He nibbles kisses into your collarbones, lavishes your breasts with tongue and gentle teeth. Works his way down your stomach and stops again.

“Can I take the rest off?” he asks.

You don’t hesitate this time, shifting to give him access to the zipper. His hands fumble a bit when he notices the embarrassing wet patch on your underwear, thumbing at your slit through the fabric.

“Please let me eat you out,” he breathes.

You press your thighs together, nervous. “Y-you don’t have to…”

“I want to, luv,” he answers, eyes barely flickering away. “Fuck do I want to.”

Words desert you, so all you can manage is a jerky nod. For the first time, his patience seems to fray as he tugs your underwear off. Barely gets them down to one ankle before diving between your legs.

He laces sweet kisses along your thighs and hips, slowing as he gets closer and closer to where you want him most. His tongue dips into your slit, just skims your throbbing and sensitive clit. You moan softly. The next swipe of his tongue is bolder, curling at your soaked entrance. He groans into you, deep and animal from his chest and makes you shudder.

“That’s it, baby,” he whispers. “Just enjoy.”

It’s impossible not to when he pampers your cunt so thoroughly. Never rough, never too fast. Like he could spend all night between your thighs. Sucking gently at your clit, thrusting his tongue inside, lapping in perfect, even strokes. You didn’t think you enjoyed oral from the few times you’ve experienced it — but Kyle makes it heavenly.

One of his hands, squeezing absently at your hip, travels down. He presses a finger at your entrance, playing in your slick but not going further. Waiting. You murmur a soft “please” that nearly has him growling.

Even just one finger feels like so much. His hands are bigger than yours. And so deliciously clever. It’s not long before you’re babbling for another, crying out softly when he provides. Two fingers curling and rubbing against your slick, sensitive walls and his tongue swirling around your needy clit — it’s so much. Overwhelming and perfect.

“K-Kyle, ‘m gonna…” you keen, shocked by how quickly it’s building.

Then he hums an encouragement and that little extra bit of stimulation sends you hurtling over the edge. You clench around his hand, hips twitching, grinding against his willing mouth through wave after wave. Not even aware of the noises you’re making until they fade off into soft whimpers of overstimulation.

Kyle eases his fingers from you, drops one last kiss to your hip. The lower half of his face is glistening. If you weren’t still somewhere in the stratosphere, you’d be embarrassed. But right now all you can manage is a quiet, needy noise, reaching for him.

He smiles and crawls over you, the warmth of his body soothing your shivery muscles, easing you through aftershocks. You wipe absently at his chin as you exchange lazy, sloppy kisses. Surprised to find that you don’t mind the taste of yourself; not much different than jizz.

“Give me… another second…” you mumble, head falling back as you catch your breath. “I’ll return the favor.”

Against your leg, you can feel him twitch through his jeans. He feels big. Your stomach clenches with want.

“That sounds bloody amazing, don’t get me wrong,” he answers, voice husky in your ear. “But if you’re up for it, I’d like to feel you cumming ‘round my cock.”

You gasp, not sure if you’re scandalized or even more turned on than before. Both?

“Wait, but I already…”

“I know, I was there,” he teases, kissing your temple. “But I wanna see it again. Feel it proper this time.”

You pause, blinking up at him as you trace your fingers along his ribs. “But isn’t that… I dunno, unfair?”

“Fuck no,” he answers. “I’d spend all night just making you cum if you let me.”

You huff and swat at him. “I think you’d kill me.”

“What a way to go, though, eh?” he chuckles, arching his eyebrows.

You groan, but there’s no hiding your grin. He brushes hair back from your face, cups your cheek.

“What do you say, baby? Let me fuck you good and proper.”

You snort, turn to nip his thumb in relation, but chirp, “yes, please!”

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Masterlist

[yet-another-heathen]

[ Answering in a new post because I don't like Tumblr's "no edit" ask glitch. Thank you so much for sending this one in, @venusski! ]

---

The ifrit have a specific custom of naming through laqabs! For example, Yeezumon's full name:

Yeezumon al-Taasharaih ibn Ramnawa bint Khesha bint Modreya al-Quasim

...is more than a random jumble of middle names and surnames. I know it looks incredibly overwhelming, but do me a favor. Read it once more, slowly. Sound it out in your head. Actually follow every single word.

Yeezumon al-Taasharaih ibn Ramnawa bint Khesha bint Modreya al-Quasim

This is more than a name. It's history—of so many people more than just him.

The rough translation:

Yeezumon the Star-Mapper; son of Ramnawa; daughter of Khesha; daughter of Modreya the Divider

Yeezumon earned the honorific "the Star-Mapper" through his lifelong dedication and renowned skill as a navigator. There isn't an easy way to impress on you just how profound that title is. Not only did Yeezumon learn to read and write (as exceptionally few ifrit or humans in this time do), but he has charted every single star in the night sky over his centuries as a navigator. And, in a time where doing so is both incredibly challenging and dangerous, he alone has mapped out huge swaths of the desert and its surrounding "coastlines" where greenery and life follows the winding rivers at its edge.

It is because of him, and the few other people like him, that sandships are able to transverse the deserts at all.

Yeezumon's great grandmother also has an honorific that gets carried along in his name. There was a massive famine during Modreya's lifetime (just after the ifrit were freed from Solomon), and she was the city official whose responsibility was to divide food rations amongst her people. "The Divider" was a title given to her in honor of her dedication to making sure EVERY person, regardless of poverty or class, had enough food to survive. She was incredibly well loved, and her name is still remembered to this day, almost three thousand years later.

After their honorifics, something else might stand out; ifrit bloodlines are solely matrilineal. There are a great many reasons for this, but the biggest is how common polyamory is in their culture. True monogamy is almost unheard of among ifrit, and relationships that even come close are exceptionally rare.

"The Husbands" earned their title because it is outright bizarre for two ifrit to have been together as long as they have. When you live to be a millennium old, it's accepted that the people you're closest with will eventually grow and change so much over the centuries that you're no longer compatible. And there's nothing wrong with it! That kind of growth is seen as a good and completely natural thing, and animosity between ex-lovers is far from the norm. People stay together for as long as they fit, then make their own way apart when they no longer do.

That being said, Yeezumon and Ifyaa are weirdos. Not only have they been together for most of their lives, but these two literally get married to each other over again every time they come across a culture that does it a different way. They've been married about thirty times and counting, with no plans to stop. Even THEY aren't monogamous in the modern sense—they still have other partners both alone and together. [Sorry Nadi, you're still out of luck.]

But lineage is matrilineal because frankly, not only would be it nearly impossible to keep track of who the sire may be, but to the ifrit? It simply doesn't matter.

Ifrit have such an impossible time conceiving children that when one is born, entire cities erupt into celebrations that last for DAYS. Every child is raised with their entire community as a family. While they'll travel with their mother if she ever moves to a new city, the need for more detailed lineages just don't exist. After their mother, they belong to the People as much as to their sire. And on that note....

Ifyaa's full name follows the same pattern:

Ifyaa al-Mantiqi ibn Aisara-Qshek ira Yareya bint Watlai

Ifyaa the Healer; Son of The People; heir to Yareya, daughter of Watlai

Though the ifrit don't have an equivalent of such a word, Ifyaa was more or less what humans would consider an orphan. His mother left when he was a very young boy, and the people of his city all took him in as one of their own. The entire city became his family. He carries their name in reverence, and will often shorten his own name to Ifyaa al-Mantiqi ibn Aisara-Qshek unless the need otherwise arises.

---

Thank you for giving me the opportunity to go into this! I truly love the world and culture building of An-Nadr, and I'm delighted every time I get to scratch the surface.

[beautifulpersonpeach]

Have we reached the limits of the multi-label hybe system, at least for Korea-based music label subsidiaries? It seems like their ecosystem within the company is massively strained

***

You sent me this ask weeks ago and I drafted a lengthy response with links that Tumblr glitch-deleted. After the court’s decision today, I feel this is a good time to try answering this again. At least in an abridged way.

Short answer: yes.

There are many things this case with MHJ has exposed and confirmed about HYBE, all of which are unsavoury. In a way, maybe we were expecting too much that a company like BigHit, that until 4 years ago was fully private and wasn’t held to the standards of a publicly traded company, and was ruled under the sole authority of one man, wouldn’t struggle to adjust not just to the expectations of shareholder management, but also to a multi-label system where authority was shared among sub-label CEOs and protected from Bang Sihyuk.

He wanted to create a label like Sony (which owns labels like RCA Records and Columbia Records that operate independently), but he clearly lacks the restraint and wherewithal to manage such an enterprise. For a couple of reasons I think:

1. He’s operated as a law unto himself for too long to manage such an abrupt change. In my opinion, the way HYBE chose to handle this case, from the very beginning, showed a reckless disregard for safeguarding shareholder value. In short, he managed this fiasco as though HYBE/BigHit were still a private company, not the most capitalized company on the KRX. That was the first indication to me that this dispute was not merely business, it was/is very personal, and to use shareholder assets to pursue his vendetta is infinitely irresponsible. He’s shown he’s not capable of managing the sort of business he wants to create.

2. He cannot tell his shareholders that sub-labels are independent with full creative freedom, and then backtrack on that when he feels like it or when he personally falls out with a sub-label CEO. Even more to that point, if he’s going to choose to remain tightly controlling of some labels and not others, he will foster a toxic competitive environment between labels. All that does is create an army of “yes men” in a system that in theory is created to combat exactly that, and there is no way that’s sustainable for multi-labels to thrive. It seems he didn’t really understand this point. His approach would’ve led to a conflict of this nature sooner or later, that it’s happened within 5 years of him implementing it is something of a small miracle.

Korea is a very hierarchal society that’s prone to rewarding sycophancy over merit. Call it a hazard of Korea’s potent mix of Confucianism and Capitalism. It works fine for companies where responsibility for every group’s success is perceived to be shared by everyone in the company led under the same management, but unless a company adopts the mindset of full independence and merit above all else, a multi-label system is near impossible to implement. It’s why companies like JYP Entertainment instead have ‘sub-divisions’ that manage groups but it’s still under one management and the hierarchy is clear.

Until this point, I assumed HYBE (aka Bang PD) indeed believed the mantras he was chanting, but he’s revealed himself to be no more enlightened than the typical Korean male chaebol. A company like HYBE that has exclusive rights to manage BTS - the golden goose that will always generate enough ‘fuck you money’ to last a couple generations at least - can afford to pay lip service to their multi-label system for as long as BTS remains with them. After this MHJ case, Bang PD will learn the wrong lessons and will look to exercise even more control over the sub-labels.

A multi-label system can only be successful if there’s a radical shift in mindset away from what is typical in Korea. Until now I thought HYBE had managed that, but this MHJ dispute has shown that was never the case. It’s a shame.

[armybratz123]

Staring Contest with a Dead Teenager

Author's Note: This is based on a comic posted on another tumblr account. The link to it is pasted below, at the end of the oneshot. In this story, the Avengers in this one shot consist of Steve, Natasha, Clint, Loki, Bucky, Thor, Sam, Bruce, and Tony. For those who need a time line, this happens before Avengers: Age of Ultron, but after Captain America: Winter Soldier.

~

DP x Marvel

New York City. Known as the city that never sleeps, and the city that keeps being destroyed or attacked by abnormal criminals or invaded by alien armies. Pretty much anything can be considered the norm for a city that's been through as much as New York.

Apparently, there are entities that take that as a challenge.

For almost every other day, these.... creatures appear out of seemingly nowhere. The Avengers would suit up, get there, only to find nothing but minimum property damage. The Avengers helped out the emergency workers there with the fearful civilians. But aside from a little dirt and dust from the debris, and a couple scratches here and there, they were all relatively left unharmed.

Back at the tower, the Avengers held a team meeting to discuss the strange event. Yeah, they thought that it's great that the chaos stopped, but the question that continued to run through the Avenger's mind is, why?

The Avengers doubt the reason being them. Based on the limited reports they received with these creatures abilities, flight, intangibility, super strength, emitting qualities, etc; the list just seemed to go on. If Earth's Mightest Heroes were to go into battle against one of these entities, the Avengers would definitely have their hands full in such a fight.

But it only happened once, the Avengers just shrugged and went back to the tower, hoping that this was just a one time occurance.

They hoped, but they didn't hold their breath. With their luck, the Avengers doubt this to be a 'one time thing'.

A few days later, the Avenger's suspicions turned out to be right. Calls and reports came rolling in of another entity, this one different from the last but definitely part of the same species, causing chaos and destruction in New York once again.

Again, the Avengers suited up, arrived, and no one was there. This time, there were some witnesses who retold the group of heroes what happened with wide eyes.

To their surprise, another entity appeared, fought the first one, before containing it in a cylinder object and then fleeing the scene just before the Avengers arrived. They stayed to offer their help once more, but there wasn't much needed to be done.

Like the first time, there was minimal damage and aside from scrapes and bruises, the civilians were pretty much left unharmed.

This process happened for two weeks straight, and many of the Avengers were beginning to become restless with lack of answers. So, they began to search for them before/after every attack.

The first thing they did, thanks to Tony, was look through the security footage. But every single footage and camera they look through, it's all scrambled and only during these entities appearance. But once they leave, the footage cleared up as if it wasn't even glitching out in the first.

Now Tony, Loki, and Natasha are curious while Sam, Steve, and Thor seem frustrated, Thor even more so surprisingly. And the rest were just neutral, really, they are just curious about what's going on.

After another two weeks and the Avengers finding basically nothing. Steve was getting serious. These occurrences have happened too many times and the Avengers have made zero progress in figuring out what's going on.

The soldier was getting antsy.

He needed to know what these entities are, who they are, and what the hell are they doing in New York?

So, one day, upon arriving back at the tower, none of them didn't even get the chance to change out of their uniform when Steve turns to the group.

"We need to contact Fury."

Fury wasted no time in getting to work.... they didn't do much better than the Avenger's much to Fury's own frustration.

All the more proving the need to know these creatures and their purpose. The only thing Fury, Hill, and the rest of their people managed to do was isolate the energy signature these entities give out.

The best plan they were able to come up with was for the team to split up and discreetly patrol New York until one of these signatures appeared.

On the first day, nothing happened, same with the second, only for them to have missed the appearance of two entities on the second night. At least that solidifies the many eye witness reports of one entity appearing to take down the other before the two would disappear.

That didn't stop the frustration and anger the Avengers felt for the missed opportunity. The next day they stayed out longer and into the night, waking up early to begin the next day.

It was that day that something happened while Tony, Steve, Loki, and Sam were on patrol, the rest asleep and waiting for their turn to take the evening/late night patrol.

Hill suddenly spoke into the comms.

"A energy spike down Park Avenue!", Hill suddenly exclaims.

"I'm close by, on my way. Be there in five.", Tony announced, already adjusted his flight.

"Stark, you can't just go flying in. We don't know what these things are.", Steve protested.

"I thought this was the whole point of your patrol schedule thingy that you roped the rest of us in with Thor's help.", Tony snarked back with a roll of his eyes.

"All I'm saying is that you should wait for back up before encountering the hostiles.", Steve tries to placate Tony.

"Hostiles, hostiles. Why are we making this plural. Based on reports that you oh so love to use, one of these so called 'hostiles' have been doing our job for us.", Tony shot back, "I say we got at least one friendly and one hostile."

"The point is, we don't know.", Steve retorted, voice sounding more strained and harsh in his alarm, "We have to be careful with this-."

"Too late. Spotted them.", Tony interrupted as his screens picked up and zoomed in on bright flashes of green and blue light in the distance, "I'm going in."

"Stark!"

Tony was quick, flying and coming to a quick stop, hands out and blasters charged up and at the ready.

.

.

.

Only to stare at the side of a kid sucking up a tall pale figure into what looked to be futuristic thermos in a bright flash of light.

Tony had his face plate flip so as to see whether or not his systems were malfunctioning.

But nope.

Floating kid is still there, also noticed Tony flying there. He clutched the thermos tightly to his chest with a sheepish deer in head-lights look on his face. Is that green smoke coming from the strange contraption.

"Stark! One of the signatures just disappeared.", Hill exclaims urgently in the comms, "What do you see?"

He sees a kid. But Tony, for the life of him, couldn't bring himself to say a seemingly simple sentence. Still staring at the white haired floating kid, who just stared dumbly back.

"Be careful! The remaining entity is close to you. It seems to be very powerful!"

They were being shown up by kid. Not gonna lie, that hurt Tony's pride actually, but also made the playboy, billionaire, genius, philanthropist very much worried.

What the hell happened to this kid in order to gain the kind of power that makes Maria Hill worried?

Why is there a floating kid again?

And Tony just hovers, staring at the kid, because based on his 'deer in headlights' look becoming more obvious, the kid could hear Hill through the comm. He waits for the kid to speak first.

And the damn kid just says, "Hi there."

What is Tony's life right now?

~

As stated from the top, this is based off a comic, here's a link to the original below.

[tohokuu]

i just need to rant for a minute. also my tumblr is still glitching even after i deleted and redownloaded it.

i cant actually see any of the words i’m typing … i had to change the color to pink in order to see it bc the white just comes out as black… anyway. this is very boy oriented bc i’m talking about relationships so if you don’t care, fuck off and keep scrolling. honestly this feels a little pathetic bc i’m going to be honest about the mistakes i’ve made in the last 6 months and how you should completely avoid them LOL

so back in october, i met this guy on campus that had been going to the same college as me for a while now but i just… never saw him. LOL. like he was so different looking last year and this year he’s all tall, muscular, beard etc. otherwise, i had no idea he even existed ?? ☠️ anyway, let’s call him uhhh gojo. so, i met gojo and i was like wow he’s really cute. btw, i can develop crushes on multiple guys but it’ll only be like … crushes where i find them hot and would be okay w dating them but i’m not like dying to date them and want them yk ? but this guy… i wanted him. like i couldn’t stop thinking abt this guy. we started talking and snapping back and forth for a good few weeks. we opened up about some stuff and idk it was really chill. we were gonna go to a party together and i was driving him and like… we smoked together in the car and nothing else. just talking and vibing and it was amazing. my crush obviously got stronger but the night of the party, he goes and leaves me alone at the party to hang out w other girls and i’m like … yo ??? then at the end of the night, we get into a fight over something extremely minuscule and he unadds me and i’m like yo ?… i was actually so upset and hurt. like i cried abt this in class LMAOFJSJ i never cry over guys bruh and i cried over this dumbass mf bc i genuinely really liked this guy. now… igotoveritmostlyafter a few weeks and suddenly, this guy i had on social media who i have mutuals with asks me on a date and i’m like … let’s see where it goes. we go out and it’s the first date. i pay for our starbucks. he pays for the fries and even now i’m thinking, why did i ever offer to pay so hard ?… ew. i’m not a 50/50 woman and if you disagree, idc smd. anyway, date goes well and obviously i’m still hung up over gojo just a bit but i really enjoyed my first date and i couldn’t stay hurt over a stupid talking stage yk ?.. like that’s not the way to go about life. so we ended up going on a second date. then a third, a fourth, a fifth and then it turned into a relationship that lasted just about 5 months. anyway… the first couple months of my relationship were very happy. my boyfriend was the best. the sweetest… the typical nice guy who did literally everything right. he wasn’t rich or bought me expensive gifts like gojo could have but he cared and he talked to me and loved me and that’s all that mattered. a few months later someone follows me on instagram… guess who ? gojo !!! follows me on ig and i had posted a note saying “guys i miss him :(“ and he texted me saying “who?” and i’m like “my boyfriend. why?” and he leads a conversation where it’s him accusing my boyfriend of cheating and me telling him to stfu. i obviously defend my boyfriend and i tell him about it ofc and my boyfriends outrageous ofc bc he’s got such a good character and he couldn’t stand anyone insulting that yk.. which is fine. anyway, gojo found a way to just insert himself into my life somehow. now you’re probably thinking that i could’ve just blocked him but atp, he was friends with my friends and i was like… it’s gonna be really awkward if i block him. so i kept him on social media and i’d just leave him on delivered for days and not answer. but this guys also a character bc he’d text me going. “respond. i know you’re on your phone. text me back” and i would… idk why i did. but it was always him talking about this one girl that he’s in love with and he’s always fucking talking about her and a part of me got jealous… then i was mad at myself for being jealous bc i had a whole man and i had no right to be jealous at all. i kept leaving him on delivered at later that and i would constantly tell myself “always choose your aman” which is like a bollywood movie and the lesson was to always pick the guy that will treat you good forever and not the guy who lost you and then realized what he lost and came back for you, bc she chose the dickhead in the film. anyway, i kept telling myself that it wasn’t worth it. now… when i was with my boyfriend or texting my boyfriend, i’d only ever think of him. gojo wasn’t even a

thought in my mind and that’s totally chill. that’s what i wanted in the very first place. but then i’d text gojo back sometimes and answer his texts faster than i’d answer my boyfriends … this is where i started feeling guilty. then i’d listen to songs like “moth to a flame” by the weeknd and i’d feel extremely guilty. i felt like i was emotionally cheating. i felt horrible bc i’m not the type of person who cheats or done anything that wrong bc that’s not me… but why was i feeling these emotions for gojo when i had my boyfriend ?… i’ve always been the sensible person in relationships that knows how to give perfect advice. my stance on cheating was always that if you want someone else, break up with your current significant other because they don’t deserve to feel like their heart is being played with. but here, now that i was stuck in that situation, it genuinely felt so so hard and i wanted to cry bc i kept seeing more movies, songs and references to this stupid love triangle and i was so so annoyed. also, disclaimer ! my boyfriend was never physically my type. i think he’s cute and good looking but wasn’t my type. i think i was just really ignoring everything else and going straight for the personality. then when i’d look at gojo… gojo was my dream man. he’s so cute to me and it made me mad how i was having these thoughts?? so like i came to the conclusion that i should break up with my man… so i did. i broke up with him 3 weeks ago and i was so so brutal with him bc i knew if i was any softer, i’d turn back on my word. he’s just that. fucking. kind. he’s so so amazing, even as of today. i couldn’t have left him if i wasn’t so harsh on him :/ anyway, broke up with him and this whole time i’m still friends with gojo. we never flirted or anything but the day i broke up with him, somehow i end up in his car. i was leaving campus after hours and he texted me while i’m at the light and he goes “is that you i just saw leaving?” i said “yeah. want me to come back?” and he goes “hmmm i’m bored. yes.” now you’re thinking… i’m a major red flag !!! yes… i am 😃 i go back and we park next to each other and i sit in his car with him in the passenger seat and ykw… it wasn’t awkward at all. it was natural, funny, sweet… we sat in his car and talked for hours. we talked about my breakup, we talked about the girl he loves, we talked about the bitches he’s busy with and so much other shit.

conversation with my boyfriend never flew as mindlessly as it did with him. i guess it makes more sense bc i rarely saw my boyfriend. i’d only see him every week or so but i saw gojo almost every single day, even if we didn’t talk to each other. but gojo and me had more in common… we related on more. i found him more attractive and there were things that i didn’t have in my first relationship that he had. i sound like such a piece of shit right now, i know. but i convinced myself for 5 months that i don’t need any of that stuff to be in a happy relationship. i kept my relationship going on the whole “always choose your aman” thing.. it was a sweet relationship but even as my friends said … there was no chemistry between us. and the sex ! my ex boyfriend used to be bi until a month ago, he’s straight now. he has a lot of bodies …. which i don’t care abt the number but they were literally all men, which i also don’t really care about. it’s just that he’s never had sex with a woman before and yk i was willing to be his first and it made me feel a bit insecure. it’s a shameful thing to be insecure abt and i know i shouldn’t be but i was. the making out was great, being in his lap was fun and he knew how to kiss me properly and everything. i asked him to choke me and he did it properly despite him being a pretty vanilla guy. but when we had sex… he just couldn’t do it right no matter how much i told him what to do. like i was so engrossed in teaching him bc he was fucking up so bad that it took me half an hour to cum… then when he put his dick in me, he hardly stretched me out and it hurt so bad and he wasn’t doing it properly and i was genuinely just mad at that point 😃 i told him to stop and i just sucked him off and called it a day. then there’s things like a bit of pda or etc that i wanted. we’re young, i think it’s normal to want a risky and more adrenaline rushed relationship, or at least it’s what i need… now asking him of that is unfair, i know. i asked and he said no and i was like “that’s all okay !!” but like lowkey i was starting to get bored bc there’s so many things i wanted to do and he didn’t. obviously i respected it but i don’t have to agree with it. still, i kept moving on and i think that’s why i started to think about gojo more bc gojo is someone who would’ve done all of those things… i wanted to make out in an empty elevator once and he pushed me off and said no and i was like “oh :(“ which is fine on his part !! he doesn’t have to do any of that stuff and it’s fine bc everyone has their reasons and boundaries. but i don’t find the fun in that. him and i had very opposite personalities and i know opposites attract but these were things that i didn’t like compromising on. i know you’re probably thinking that i fucked up and ruined my perfect picture and that’s exactly what gojo said to me when i told him about the breakup while i was sitting in his car. he told me “you had the perfect picture. the sweet boyfriend who knew how to treat you and you left him.” yeah left him bc i couldn’t stop thinking of you, you fucking idiot. i was emotionally cheating and my boyfriend was SO not deserving of that. he’s way too good of a man to have someone do that to him so i cut it off. i felt horrible but i had to do it. i didn’t deserve someone like him. he was really really sad and i felt bad bc i was so brutal over the call and yes… another dickhead move. i broke up with him over call and that was bc i wasn’t able to see him for another month cuz he was traveling. i had to be mean otherwise, i knew i would’ve caved in and just… ignored my feelings for gojo again. now if you’re wondering, did i get with gojo ? nope. did i try ? nope. ykw i did tho?… encourage him to better his relationship with the girl he likes, bc i really enjoy doing that to myself LMFAO i told him what to do on valentine’s day, i told him what to do on new years, i told him what to do for her birthday… cuz he’s a fucking idiot but he’s literally obsessed with her and i can’t help but just stay out of it even tho i like him so damn much. but he’s

also fucking stupid because why are you fucking other bitches while you like this girl ?? but she’s also confusing bc she doesn’t want a relationship while he does and when she says that she just wants to be friends, he treats her like a friend and then she gets mad that he doesn’t give her any romantic attention. i told my guy bestfriend, david, about this and even he agreed that she’s just using him for attention… and i kinda realized that a long time ago but he’s so blindly in love w her that idk what to tell him. i tried to tell him to focus on himself and get his shit together but nahhh, he told me to stfu and flicked my forehead instead. oh and then those two are just friends, he goes out and fucks other girls to curb the loneliness ig and then she gets mad at him for it… you aren’t in a relationship ??? 😀 anyway, gojo is honestly a dickhead. do i still want him ? yes. should i ? no, bc the red flags are obviously very much there and i cant help but be attracted to them and i hate it sm. fuck gojo tho.

back to my breakup, first week i was chilling. told myself i never needed him and that shit is better off this way bc he wasn’t even all that. second week, i was fine during the day but i would get lonely at night when all my friends were asleep and he would’ve stayed up to talk to me about some random video game or i’d tell him abt some interesting fic i read. this third week was hell tho… i thought abt him 24/7. i wanted to talk to him so bad . i texted him and just told him i was checking in and it was a nice conversation but it felt so plastic and i hated it. he has given away most of my stuff and i haven’t given away a single thing. also, if i’m regurgitating, it’s bc i wrote half of this rant last night while i was half asleep and now i’m writing the rest so idk what i wrote last night. moving on, he told his parents i was his girlfriend and not just a friend and that’s very awkward bc his mom actually works at my college and i’m like… yo… so i always duck whenever i see her, it’s embarrassing. now, i’m just missing him all the time. but i tell myself that i did this for a good reason and that it’s what was best for the both of us and i know what i did was the right thing but i still feel like such a horrible person… he said he’s fine now but i still feel his absence daily but then i tell myself that it’s me missing the attention, not him. i tell myself and i feel better and then i tell myself that i’m not wrong for what i did. it’s okay that our breakup had an impact bc he was someone i genuinely loved and had a relationship and it’s okay to wish things could have worked out and it’s okay to keep stepping up and doing yourself a favor. so now, i’m sitting here with uhhh no gojo and no boyfriend and ykw, it’s chill. it’s not that bad. are there momentary feelings of sadness ? ofc. but it’s fine. there’s like 15 guys in my dms rn and i have bitches !! so that’s cool but i don’t want any of them… so they’re never getting texted back ! but yeah. that was the rant. pls don’t do what i did. it’s such a mindfuck and honestly, i feel like the villain and ik i should bc what i did was super fucked up but uhm… yeah

[birdkittenn]

continuing where i left off

wrath layer fic chapter 2 reaction:

once again, author's notes reaction. i found the details tag from a tumblr post once and decided id stash the info away until i could use it somewhere. and that turns out to be here

yeah. feral little guy who wants to kill and murder but stopped by the guy who isnt feral

everything is gayer from v2's pov, who has already realized his feelings and trying so hard and failing at getting rid of his crush on this stupid blue fuck

and then i have little thoughts on the little v1-sentry interaction. it's there i guess. v1 the undersocialized little guy who only knows how to kill panicking because if not kill, then what do?? the fact that there's a Lot of people didnt help

oh the v1 trauma scene. im dreading a little at rereading this, i dont think it was good >-<

first, from current v1's pov, who has forgotten what has happened. this reads fine honestly

and now with the memory. the last line in the center is part of v1 realizing that its stuck in a loop and deleting the memory. so far with how i've written it, v1 does Not fare well when realizing it failed an order/task/anything. it does better at not marking things as failure now but it still handles it poorly

current idea that im not 100% sure will make it into the series is that memory deletion does not mean deletion of like, feelings. the stress is Still There. which. you know. if v1 suddenly finds itself in a loop where it keeps deleting its memories, and thereby placing it back into the exact same situation each deletion, the stress just continues building up and. yeah

not sure how i feel about the fact that, so far, my pre-canon characterization of v1 and v2 is that v1 is the most anxious thing that loves to kill ever, and v2 is like...there. v2 going "wow, its so easy being an unfeeling machine" [proceeds to not even realize he is experiencing feelings]. v2 is very stressed when he learns that he has feelings like everyone else. deals poorly with having them. v1 is just always stressed the fuck out though. i guess it's like a cheetah or something

word of the author means nothing btw if its not in the series. everything can change at any time i just like talking about my current plans

v1's reaction to conflict like this! it doesn't want to talk about that at all and gets angry if you try. the anger comes from something like fear though

ok the drawing scene! i struggled with explaining the concept behind it a little. i looked up an image of a lighthouse and mentally broke stuff down into shapes and then tried to describe that as best as i could

if i have to be completely honest, the idea of robots being Very Good at just tracing art and doing realistic art, but struggle more with the abstract stuff comes from this fic. i havent finished reading it nor do i really remember a lot of stuff anymore these days but that was 1 of the scenes that stuck out to me. another scene that sticks out to me is the part where sun tries to describe his favourite colour, but its a very specific colour, guy probably has the hex code for it and all, and tries really hard to recreate that exact colour. its cool i need to reread if i ever get the time. 107 chapters got hands

ivan aivazovsky! i wanted one of his wave paintings specifically because the first time i saw it, i went WOAH and so i knew i had to use one of his paintings for my yaouri fic. and then the part where their conversation drifts away from the drawing topic is because i ran out of things to say and also i needed them to move onto the next thing i wanted them to do

oh, the voice thing is next! v2's voice is perfectly fine by the time of the 7-3 fic, but in the 4-4 fic, it was fucked up. i needed a reason as to why v2 would restore his voice and the answer is v1 just likes it. v1 likes to listen to him a lot. it also likes to make him shut up but like lovingly

oh, from one of the glitched text, i transcribed "play nice" as "pʰle͡j na͡js" partly from that 1 time i took a linguistics course and they made me transcribe those sounds as e͡j etc instead of whatever online dictionaries transcribe it as, and then that just stuck with me. i also had a moment while transcribing "play" as like hey wait a minute! air releases when i pronounce the p in play, so i should add the symbol for that

i have that outfit in my closet! no pictures but i know exactly what it looks like. sadly have been unable to find an image that looks like my dress online

i have also had a scene where once v2 finally dresses up v1, his pet name for it is just doll. like. yeah. i havent found an excuse to get v2 to do that though

(v1 is just laying down on a couch during this scene)

oh yeah i had v1 teasingly call v2 a sculpture but didn't know exactly how to get it to do that. i mean i figured it out but yeah. i dont know if this was a planned thing that never came to fruition or something i made the fuck up just now (memory not the best) but they wouldve played around a bit with the actual sculptures in the room and comparisons wouldve been made

aaand that's the end of the chapter. i dont have any further thoughts on this

and the below screenshot is the alternate petting scene where v2 overheats. i instead moved the overheating to the next chapter. v2 cannot handle this amount of affection (yet) (he unwillingly gets trained to tolerate more before he gets far too happy about it and ceases to like function for a bit) (thanks v1)

who wants to see me liveblog my reaction to my own fic

[futurewriter2000]

Caring

- pt. 1

A/N: Bruh... I had to re-write the second part because my Tumblr glitched and deleted most of my fic. I almost criend but it's fine. Now it's saved and back up and everything. Anyways, I'm gonna make this a series because I have a lot of ideas and it's already too long and I need to write the second part of the request. It took me so long just to write this down but I can't wait to do the rest of this request. Second thing; this is written after such a long time. I know I got it still but man was this hard to start. Hope you like it and enjoy <3

REQUEST (wattpad) @EightWeasley: If you are could you possibly make one where The reader is a gryffindor and she constantly tries to talk to remus so often because she really like him but remus always acts annoyed, then the reader accidentally overheard remus saying how annoyed he is of her then the next day the reader finds remus asking out another girl named Chloe (or any other name) and the reader realizes she doesn't stand a chance so she stops trying to get his attention, but then remus notices and kinda misses the reader a bit. Then he breaks things off with the girl he asked out because he realises he doesn't really like her, he only ask her out because she was pretty on the eyes, but when she realized she was the complete opposite of the reader he knew he made a mistake

XX

Another year, another class and another sitting positions. Remus read the list again, hoping to be seated somewhere else from the previous years but no... he was sitting next to you, again.

Sirius patted him on the shoulder as James snickered beside him. "Maybe she's different this year."

"Uh-huh." Remus shut his eyes, then turned around to the desk where you sat, flipping through the school book.

He sat down, waking you up from your morning daze and smiled. "Hi." was all he said before you managed to see who was sitting beside you.

Your eyes lit up like a spark and you beamed. "Oh, morning. Another year, I guess."

"Yeah." he simpered, pulling out his books.

"How was your summer?" you asked.

"It was alright." was all he replied.

You waited for him to ask you about yours but when he didn't you felt your cheeks heat up a bit. "Did you spend it a home?"

"Most of the time." he offered her another smile before the silence started to entertain the both of you.

"Well, want to hear something funny?" you smiled, trying to ignore his lack of interest.

"Go ahead."

"Me and some of my friends..." you started to explain but just as you did, the professor came into the classroom and you smiled at him, whispering you'll tell him later.

And Remus tried. He tried to act interested and he tried to act nice but something about you didn't seem to pull his attention. He knew you fancied him for a long while now. It changed last year. All the years before you seemed to act pretty normal around him but it was the last two years that he started to notice that you like him more than just a classmate.

Now the two of you were never much than just that. Classmates and sharing the same house. Before the two of you could talk about books and movies, then some off topics but all of a sudden, you seemed to want to talk about everything with him and he found it rather annoying.

It wasn't up until a few months later when he was exhausted from his monthly secret when he couldn't pretend anymore.

You saw him walk in pale and exhausted. Something in his eyes seemed so tiring and sad that it made your heart squeeze a little. Now it wasn't the first time he came in like that but it was sure the only time you thought he was about to faint.

"Morning." you offered him a smile but he just threw his bag down and sat down.

"Mrnin." he mumbled and rested his head on his arms.

"Are you alright?" you asked kindly.

"Peachy." he answered grumpily.

"Just asking. You seem pale and... sick." you barely got the last word out, hoping it wouldn't offend him. "Are you sure you don't want to go rest?"

"Been resting for three days. I can't miss another class. I'm always behind." he continued to speak with a sharp edge in his tone.

"I can lend you some notes. I'm a great note taker." you smiled, trying to cheer him up. "Been working on my handwriting- I swear I never liked it so I kept trying to change some letters to see which one I like best and I finally did. Now, when I'm taking notes I use the typewriter font and when I write letters and such, I use cursive because it's faster and more aesthetic." you giggled. "It's odd because now I have like five different handwritings."

"I don't really care, (y/n)." he gritted his teeth and turned his head away, trying to dose off.

You felt something in your throat to swell up and you couldn't think of anything to say, so you sat there quietly. You looked over at your friend on the other side, who saw that there was something bugging you. There were possible tears starting to gather in your eyes but you quickly swallowed everything; the tears, the lump in your throat and the sad rejection in your stomach.

You couldn't focus the whole class, trying not to think about the boy next to you was the hardest thing to do for you. You tried to ignore the mix of feelings that were happening inside of you but you couldn't.

You noticed him sleeping by the end of the class and when the bell rang, everybody left- even his friends. You tried to leave him as well because he was rude to you before but just as you were about to walk out of the door, something inside of you couldn't leave him. You turned around and walked back to him.

He seemed to be deep asleep, so you squated down and gently touched his shoulder. "Remus..." you whispered, moving his shoulder gently and trying to get his hair out of his eyes. "Wake up, Remus." you continued to speak gently but he wouldn't budge. "Bloody hell, Lupin." you sighed, trying to shake him up a bit this time.

Slowly, drowsily he opened his eyes and saw you there smiling kindly. It seemed peaceful just before the thoughts in his head started to race. He shot his head up and gasped. "FUCK! I fell asleep!" the vision before him started to blur and spin around from fast movement. He rubbed and then squinted his eyes, noticing the whole class empty. "Oh, hell." he cursed over and over.

"To be honest, you haven't missed much." you pulled out a chair and sat down. "All Professor Binns talked about was how children were nothing as they were before. How wild we had become. No discipline and order... I think you weren't the only one sleeping here." you started to explain and Remus smiled, still rubbing his eyes.

"And I just proved him right, haven't I?" he leaned back, then noticed his friends were gone as well. "Did those dickheads really leave me behind?"

"Well... I think all of us run out of this class as soon as we can. Even professor Binns."

"Except you..." he looked at you- differently than he ever did before.

"My consciousness didn't let me even though you were pretty rude back then."

"Rude?" he tried to think but somehow his mind didn't let him. He couldn't remember- to be honest, he couldn't remember the past three days, let alone being rude to you. "If anybody here is-" he stopped himself before he said something he'd regret. He gathered his things and stood up, giving you another look and calming himself down. "Thank you for waking me up. I really do appreciate that." he offered you a kind smile.

"You're welcome." you smiled back, took your bag and left before him. Before you walked through the door, you turned around and saw him standing closely behind you. It took you a moment to gather yourself but when you did, you added. "And get some rest, Remus."

"I will." he said before passing you by and leaving to the next class.

---

It was two hours later when the two of you had the same class. You were just about to leave the bathroom before class had started when you saw Remus running towards his group of friends.

"You dickheads left me!" he started dramatically. "What if I was dead?"

"You don't look so dead to me." said Sirius. "How many fingers am I holding?" he put up three fingers and Remus only slapped it away.

You smiled to yourself and just as you were about to walk around the corner, James' voice stopped you.

"We knew you were pretending to get some extra time with you secret admirer." he teased.

"She did wake me up." said Remus.

"Of course, she did. Surprised?" James quirked an eyebrow, smirking at Remus.

"That girl's been in love with you since the very beginning."

You felt yourself fall back against the wall. So they knew? Was it that obvious?

"I wouldn't say since the very beginning. It's been the last two years, she's been annoying. Always wanting to talk and never shutting up." Remus started.

"Women do never shut up. Always yapping something." added James.

"Yeah but she keeps trying to talk to me early in the morning- I can't early in the morning. It's so annoying but I'm trying to be nice to her. She's not bad."

"You don't want to break her annoying heart."

"Stop it, Pads." Remus laughed. "I think she has a good heart and the way she looks at me- I just can't be rude- oh! And by the way, she told me I was being rude to her today. I almost said that if anybody was being rude is her trying to talk to me when I clearly don't want to talk. I'm already feeling shitty as I am and ugh! I can't with her. I really can't."

"She's sweet though." smiled James. "I think the two of you would make a cute couple." he started to tease.

"I'm going inside. I'm done talking about her."

And so they all left, one after another, meanwhile you were sitting on the floor, feeling as if somebody tore your heart out and ran it over. Listening to this conversation was like throwing your heart around as if it was a Quaffle in a Quidditch match.

You went back into the bathroom, wiped up your tears and went to class as nothing has happened. You didn't look at them but you could feel their eyes on you- their mocking, annoyed eyes.

"Are you alright?" asked you friend, who sat next to you. She saw something in you. Before you left you seemed to have colour in your cheeks and now, it was as if something drained the life out of you.

With your heart still shattering inside your chest and stabbing your lungs with it pieces, you answered with a smile. "Of course." you giggled.

----

It seemed to get worse the next day. You tried to swallow your pride and avoid everything you had been feeling inside of your chest. It wasn't easy because they were enormous emotions; anger, sadness, heartbreak but they weren't as big as you had saw him standing there to a tall beauty, asking her out on a Hogsmeade trip this Saturday, where they would get some tea and cake. Chloe- the perfect name (it couldn't be Helga or Berta... it had to be a gorgeous name) for such beauty with golden long hair and gorgeous forest green eyes. Her skin was as if it was made of silk and you seemed to be green from jealousy. Of course, he fancies Chloe and you couldn't really be jealous over that because Chloe was perfect inside and out. Perfect grades, perfect family, perfect teeth... something you weren't.

You stood no chance over this girl and it felt like heartbreak after heartbreak... something inside of you took away your pride, your ego, your dignity and your self-respect. You spent Saturday alone in your room- while everybody was at Hogsmeade, you were feeling sorry for yourself because the pain consumed you. You couldn't even climb up to your bed. You felt so pathetic and hurt that you felt like you deserved the floor- the cold rock bottom.

How could somebody so irrelevant hurt you so much? Take away... so much of yourself?

You couldn't look yourself in the mirror but you sure could decide on thing. Today, you will feel sorry for yourself but tomorrow you'll improve yourself. Not to make him jealous or regretful- but because you don't want to feel like you had felt this day.

So every day from now on, you got up, you brushed your teeth because you wanted perfect teeth. You cleansed your face with water and some products you asked your mum to send, you put sunscreen to protect your skin, some powder to hide those imperfections, eyeshadow, mascara, straightening your natural hair, dressing until you felt beautiful and you didn't leave your room until you did because when you felt beautiful, you felt confident.

"Who are you getting so dressed up for?" your best friend asked. "Is it a certain Gryffindor with green eyes?" she quirked an eyebrow.

You let out a snort. "He wishes. I'm doing it for myself. Mum always said a lady has to look together and I didn't listen to her until now. I'm tired of looking as if I put no effort into myself." you smiled, drinking your coffee. "And for Lupin over there... it's clear he's not interested in me so why bother anymore?"

"You sure?"

"Definitely. He has a gorgeous beauty around his arm and I do wish them both well." you looked over to the couple and as you did feel all the anger and the jealousy bubble inside of your stomach, you swallowed it and wished them well.

"You're too good for him anyway... to good for anybody here." you best friend said and you smiled at her.

---

Remus, however, felt something off since that day. Now, he couldn't really place it or piece it together but he knew it had something to do with you. Now, he did realise you changed quite a bit in the last few days but the one thing he realised was that you did not give him zero of your attention anymore.

Not a good morning, not how are you, not telling him random things as you did before. Quiet. You were quiet and he should be thrilled, shouldn't he? He should be over the moon that you are not bugging him anymore but he wasn't and it brought a lot of confusion as to why wasn't he happy that you had finally left him alone.

He saw you sitting at your desk and you seemed to be deep in conversation with the Ravenclaw, who sat behind you. He sat next to you, said hi but you ignored him... or you didn't hear him. He found that more logical but it still bruised his ego a little.

"You have more handwritings?" the Ravenclaw asked.

"Yeah... but- I don't know. It doesn't matter." you said shyly, knowing where this topic led you the last time.

"I have thousands of those. My notes need to be organised and neat. I have different font for everything; the title, subtitle, explaination, side notes and conclusion." he started to talk a bit faster and you laughed.

"I have multiple handwritings so if I ever write a threatening letter, they can't pin it down on me." you joked and the Ravenclaw laughed, as well as Remus next to you. "

"That's actually quite smart." he leaned back. "But wait... had you done that before?" he leaned back forward and narrowed his eyes at you.

"I guess, we'll never know." you winked and turned forward when you heard the professor entering the class.

Remus kept observing you. Just as you talked with the Ravenclaw, you used to talk to him before you started to fancy him. You laughed and constantly talked over one another, teasing jokes, some ugly yet innocent remarks and such interesting topics. What happened? He missed that girl and the dynamic between the two of you.

You didn't even look at him when the class started, or ask him how he was. It was odd to sit next to you and be quiet. You pulled out your quill and parchment and started to write down the things professor said.

"Psst. (y/n)." the Ravenclaw behind you tapped your shoulder.

You turned around with a smile. "What?"

"Study session today around six? Me and some friends."

"Study session?" you eyed him and the Ravenclaw laughed a bit.

"Call it whatever you want just... don't need to bring your books." he winked and you nodded.

"Alright." you turned back forward, meanwhile Remus was only watching and listening, furrowing his eyebrows as the conflicted yet intense emotions started to arise inside of him.

"Just so you know..." he leaned in as he whispered. "Ravenclaws are known for more than notes in different handwritings."

You looked at him from the corner of your eyes and forced a smile. "I know. So?"

Remus found your stare a bit intimidating- the spark in your eyes when you looked at him was nowhere to be found and that shot his chest. "Just saying to be careful." he said before looking on the black board and writing down some notes himself.

"I thought you really did not care." was all you said before doing the work as well.

[fic-dumpster]

There are other topics here! It’s a general on how to do things! Like readmore, colors, dividers, etc

I wanna clarify that this is my own experience or my close friends experiences. I am in no way invalidating nor denying anyone’s experience/claims. I'm just trying to help.

Important!

What is shadowban? How do I know? See this post!

In my experience, the first thing that can get your blog SB is the tags. The tags can trigger SB and a post not showing up in the wide search thingy. So… be careful with your words in the tags.

NEVER USE N*SF*W as a tag! that is the first red flag for Tumblr to ban your blog. (This no longer seems to be a problem)

When tagging trigger warnings, use a dot between TW and the word ex: tw.cunnilingus (For some words, not all). (this also helps to avoid bots).

I think the word smut could be a problem for some. (this has never happened to me, but I’ve seen blogs talk about it). <- something about the number of times you repeat that same word in the tags. Ex: #inui smut #kokonoi smut #tokyorev smut x10 (again, I have no personal experience of this).

A common problem is a btch petty person getting mad and prob reporting your blog for breaking Tumblr community guidelines 🙄🙄🙄.

Last but not least, a glitch from tumblr’s part

And about the spam liking thing, I believe it can happen but there are a lot factors that contribute to being banned for spam likes. (Number of followers, how active you are with rb, posting, liking, the number of blogs you follow, etc. etc.). So the higher those interactions are, the more likes you can receive without being flagged for suspicious activity.

Latest update: try to send your request/case when @/changes (changes on tumblr) posts! That’s when they(support) answers mails/requests.

Part 2: post not showing up in the wide search tags

About your fic not showing up in the tags… uh if you waited minutes/hours, the next step is to erase all the tags from the post, save that, Wait a couple of minutes with the post untagged. And then write everything again in the tags

If the problem still happens, try adding the tags one by one and see which ones are triggering the ban.

How To: Make Sure Your Content Shows Under Hashtags

This has nothing to do with shadowban but I wanna add them just in case.

Read more is now available for mobile!

How to add the read more option on mobile.

Write :readmore: like in the gif, all in lower case, make sure there are no spaces in between, the readmore needs to be alone in a paragraph, and then press enter.

How to add color gradient text! Here’s a nice guide! <- desktop by @/kylos || a lil video on how it works 🤔 I made it but still credits to Kylos!

How to add music to your posts without a link for Spotify or SoundCloud? like in my Navi? Here’s a guide I made! <- desktop

How to update links on Masterlists when changed username. Here

How to protect your data on Tumblr by @/chicoree

Use this site to change/replace your tags!

Use this site to cut dividers from GIFs, PNGs, JPGs

- Content filters and how to use them correctly!

How to filter tags on the App! Be responsible of your own experience. Don’t like something? Then don’t read it. Simple as that. <- Other options to filter tags and phrases! Here

- Reblogging and the differences!

I’ve been running a personal experiment for a while and it turns out that reblogs with just tags are for internal blog order and yes, sometimes it will show up on the “For You” thing. BUT a reblog with tags + a phrase or just anything written (even keyboard smashing works) will show up on the wide search again! That’s why this option exists! It’s to avoid reblogs

Just a picture or GIF won’t do! It has to be text/written.

How to block anon’s IPs > here

How to block from your sideblog without logging into a computer? The only answer so far is to log in on safari/google*chrome on your mobile phone.

[dean-winchester-is-a-warrior]

Asked and Answered 2 - the Forbidden Post!

So, the other day, I asked @myloversgone a question (Dean x Lisa or Dean x Cassie) in the fun game we were all playing. She answered, Dean x Lisa.

Then I tried to respond back with my rambling thoughts and Tumblr flagged me for e*plic*t material. Which has to be the stupidest thing I've ever seen because it was literally all just clips and gifs from SPN, a show that aired on the C fucking W, a goddam, network TV show! So, really? That's explicit material? I tried to appeal it and they were like, no - it's explicit - shame on you and tsk tsk and we're clutching our pearls! 🙄

They were like, we haven't removed it, we just made it so only you can see it. Oh gee, thanks!

But I didn't post it for just me to see, so I'm gonna risk it and try to post it again, because there is genuinely nothing REMOTELY too e*plic*t for Tumblr. As @myloversgone said, there are straight up p**n gifs on the site all the time. So, I'm hoping it was just a weird little glitch and that this post will be fine.

I will just be copying and pasting exactly what the post was, with any questionable phrases ***'d out. 😁

Omg - these gifs - I'm dying over here! Love them!! I totally get what you mean. eevvaa chose Dean and Cassie because she felt like Cassie was Dean's first love and that they kind of brought Lisa back out the blue in Season 5 when he shows up at her house. I totally got what she meant too, I definitely wish we'd seen Lisa more often, or had some more time with them together before that happened. So he and Lisa just happening, did feel a bit jarring.

Having said that I do also love Dean and Lisa together! You're right, domestic!husband!dean is amazing! And their relationship was very romantic. I also did appreciate that she knew who Dean was and accepted him and understood:

It's a very hard choice I gave you here, cause yes, Dean and Cassie were passionate and their l*ve scene was SMOKIN' hot. And yes, I would have loved for some more of that!!

But I do love Dean and Lisa's much longer relationship, even if we didn't get to see as much of it as I would have liked.

Basically, I'm saying that I'm glad no one gave me this pairing to choose from! 😂

I'll say Dean and Cassie today, but ask me again tomorrow and it will probably change! 😁

Also, I'm gonna share the clip of the scene from the gif above because:

1. I always forget how amazingly well acted this scene is.

2. Jensen and Cindy really do have great chemistry and it 'feels' like they've been together a while.

3. Dean in a Henley. I always forget about this one, and I feel like that is akin to heresy!

4. The freckles.

5. The lashes.

6. JFC, why am I not married to him.

Sorry that last one isn't a reason, just something I lament to the gods every night! 😂

Enjoy!

Oh, oh and also, this little scene from the same episode (6x02). It's very cute, Dean is freakishly beautiful and I'm not sure why I find the fact that he's so much bigger than her so very appealing and s*xy!

Okaaaaaay! I think I'm done now! 😁

[hyuniepot]

the butterfly effect. || chapter one

chapter word count || 3,214

genre || thriller, angst, drama

members || mark lee, na jaemin, lee jeno, huang renjun, lee donghyuck, zhong chenle, park jisung

warnings || mentions of death, implications of depression

pairing || fem!reader x jaemin || slight fem!reader x mark

synopsis || you never thought you’d be able to play with fate so easily, especially not through some shady app. but you suddenly must say goodbye to what you know and hello to a new world where everything seems perfect.

a/n || reposting this chapter because tumblr made it glitch out for some reason ;-; praying everything works out this time!! as always, send me a message or an ask to be added to the taglist.

You used to be scared of butterflies.

You used to be scared of butterflies.

You used to be scared of butterflies.

Yes, the thought of it is silly, but you were. You didn’t like bugs at all, the pretty ones included. The thought of them crawling on your skin made you ill. But there was one thing you loved, and that was your friend, Mark. And unlike you, Mark loved butterflies. So when he asked you to go to a butterfly exhibit with him, you sucked it up and said yes.

And you realized that day that butterflies were beautiful. They were harmless, and you giggled as they landed on you, excitedly showing Mark as you conquered your fear of them. Mark helped you conquer a lot of your fears.

And ever since he left, you felt more fearful than ever. Losing him made you realize how fragile life really was, and you hated it. You hated feeling like everything was on the verge of being lost.

“You good?” you jump at the sound of Jaemin’s voice in your ear. You blink, realizing you had completely zoned out. You were sitting next to him on the bus to school. You quickly glance out the window once more. The butterfly you had been admiring was gone.

You nod. “I’m okay. Just tired.” you respond.

Jaemin grins and grabs onto your hand. “Okay. Just checking in.” he says softly. “Um, we’re all gonna get food after school if you wanna come. It’s just a really nice day, it’d be a shame not to go out in it, you know?”

Truth be told, you had been feeling weird lately, and going out with your friends (or, to be more accurate — your boyfriend and his friends that you were friends with by association) was probably what you needed. “That sounds nice.”

The bus had arrived at school. Jaemin stands and picks up his bag, letting you out in front of him. You exit the bus and you’re met with the warm air enveloping you, the sun hitting your eyes and making you squint. Jaemin exits the bus as well, his frame blocking the sun from blinding you. He puts his arm around you, and you grab onto his hand out of instinct.

“Hey guys, got room for more?” you feel another arm around your shoulder.

“Hyuck, no. You’re gross.” Jaemin groans, rolling his eyes.

Hyuck gasps dramatically. “That’s mean. You didn’t even consult with your girlfriend first.”

You smile. “Sorry, Hyuck. But I’m only interested in Jaemin.” you tell him.

Hyuck removes his arm from your shoulder and crosses his arms. “What a low blow…” he mutters. Hyuck was your childhood friend. He grew up with you and Mark. He was like a happy virus, and you weren’t sure if you would have survived losing Mark if he hadn’t been there for you.

You giggle. “Sorry to break your heart.”

“You’d think after months of being rejected he’d give up, but he’s a trooper.” Jaemin adds.

Hyuck rolls his eyes this time. “It’s only because you guys are gross and kissy-kissy in public. We’re in school,” he says, moving away from his spot next to you. He puts himself in between you and Jaemin. “Leave room for Jesus.”

“Oh my god, Hyuck,” you laugh. “You are so annoying. You’re lucky you’re my best friend.” you tell him.

Hyuck grins and sticks out his tongue, turning down a hallway as you guys pass it. “You’re damn right you’re lucky,” he calls. “I’ll see you guys later!”

Jaemin shakes his head, laughing. “He’s such a weirdo. Love him, though.”

You reach your locker and lean against it. “He is. You learn how to deal with him after so long. I���ll meet you outside the entrance doors after school. Do you guys know where you’re going to eat?”

Jaemin leans up against the locker next to yours. “Nah, not yet. We’ll figure it out before the day ends.” he tells you. “You have a good day, alright?” he pecks your cheek.

You smile. “I will.” Jaemin gives you one last grin before turning and continuing down the hallway.

[12:39 p.m.]

“What kind of weird shit do you read at night?” Naeun asks, scowling at Jiwoo.

“It’s not weird!” Jiwoo cries, turning her phone screen towards the dark-haired girl. “There’s real proof!”

“What are you guys talking about?” you ask, taking a seat next to Naeun.

“Apparently there’s an app that can change your fate,” Sungyeon speaks up, holding back a laugh. “Jiwoo found it.”

Jiwoo turns her attention towards you. “See! You’ll believe me, right?” she turns her phone to you.

You furrow your brows and decide not to answer her question. You read the article she had pulled up.

According to the 13-year-old who downloaded the app, ButterFly, his wish came true a mere 3 hours after sending it into the ButterFly HQ. The young boy wished for his cat to come back to life, who had been dead for nearly a month. A few hours later, a cat showed up at the boy’s window. It was identical to the one the boy had.

ButterFly, a self-proclaimed life changing app has been growing in popularity as people hope to change their past. But the real question is, does this app really change a life or is it simply coincidence?

“Jiwoo…” you say softly.

“Come on,” she whines. “I can’t be the only one who thinks it could actually be real!”

“I’m afraid you are.” Sungyeon tells her, taking a bite of her food. “It’s just a coincidence. The only success story they have is something so… normal.”

“If they want to impress me, they have to come up with something way more exciting than a kid finding his cat.” Naeun says.

Jiwoo pouts, turning off her phone. “But… it’d just be so cool if it was real.”

“I agree, but an app should never be trusted for something like that. Plus, if an app had the powers to change the trajectory of someone’s life, wouldn’t the butterfly effect happen?” you asked.

“She’s right,” Naeun says. “Fate is not something to play around with.”

Dejected, Jiwoo surrenders and turns her attention back to finishing her lunch.

“What is that again?” Sungyeon asks. “The butterfly effect?”

“The idea that even tiny changes can make huge and unexpected changes,” you explain. “Like a butterfly flapping its wings can cause a typhoon.”

“Hmm,” Sungyeon hums. “That’s interesting.”

“Yeah, like if Jiwoo was born as a boy, maybe she’d be dating you and you’d be a millionaire for some reason.” Naeun takes a drink from her water bottle.

“What?” Sungyeon cringes.

“Hey, what’s that face for?” Jiwoo cries. “I think I’d be a cute boy.”

You laugh and shake your head as your friends continue to playfully banter about who would be the cutest boy in a parallel universe.

[3:30 p.m.]

You stand by the entrance doors, rocking back and forth on your heels. You try not to look too awkward as you wait for Jaemin and his friends. You wave to Naeun as she leaves, and are relieved when Jaemin appears a few moments later. He immediately spots you and makes his way to you, smiling. His friends, Jeno and Renjun walk behind him with Hyuck, loudly talking about something.

“Hi,” Jaemin says. “Did you have a good day?”

You grin. “It was fine. How about you?” you start walking away from school, taking hold of his hand.

“It was good. I have some annoying homework, but…” he trails off.

Renjun suddenly runs past you, turning around with a disgusted look on his face. “Hyuck, for the last time, I will not hold your hand!”

You turn your head to see a pouty Hyuck. “I just wanted to fit in!”

You laugh and roll your eyes, turning your head back towards the sidewalk in front of you. You all make your way to a nearby restaurant. You sat next to Jaemin in a booth and Jeno, Renjun, and Hyuck all squeezed into the one across from you. You all ordered drinks.

“Oh, Jaemin,” Jeno says, picking his bag up from the floor. He pulls out a notebook and hands it to Jaemin. “Thanks for your notes.”

Jaemin nods. “No problem.”

“Jeno,” Renjun says, shaking his head. “You’re never gonna learn if you keep copying Jaemin’s notes.”

Jeno shrugs. “It’s not like I do it all the time,” he says, defending himself.

“You borrow my notes, too, though… so Renjun kinda has a point.” Hyuck says, leaning back as the waitress sets his drink down in front of him.

You pull out your phone as the boys argue yet again just to see what was happening on your social media. It was mostly random tweets and posts from people you knew, but there was something that caught your eye. It was a promoted post from ButterFly. It had no likes or anything, despite being promoted to your Twitter timeline. And it wasn’t just one. After a few scrolls, you saw another ad from the app, just with a different caption. You saw another one before shaking your head and exiting the app. You opened Instagram, just to be met with the same ad.

Don’t be afraid. Having the chance to change your fate is much more fun than you think.

The caption sent chills down your spine. It didn’t sound like something that should be promoted. You clicked the link the ad provided, but it simply took you to the app store. Your curiosity was getting the best of you. You wanted to download the app, but something was holding you back.

Jaemin nudged your shoulder, making you jump.

“Huh?” you ask. Everyone’s eyes were on you.

“Do you want something to eat?” Jaemin asked.

“Oh,” you look at the waitress next to the table, notebook and pen in hand. “I’m okay.” you reply.

The waitress nods before turning around and entering the kitchen. You stand up from your seat at the booth. “I need to go to the bathroom.” You shoved your phone into a pocket on your bookbag and rushed to the bathroom.

You shut the door behind you, walking to the sink. You looked at yourself. You looked tired, disheveled. You couldn’t get rid of the feeling you had felt since waking up. You could barely even describe it. It almost felt like dread, but it was more of an unexplainable sadness. Not even being with your friends seemed to help it. You turned on the water, splashing your cheeks with cold water. How had you been so enchanted by the ads of that app that you had become completely oblivious to what was going on around you?

You dried your face before you heard a small knock on the door. “Hey, are you okay?” You opened the door and saw Jaemin. His eyebrows were furrowed in concern.

You forced a smile and nodded. “Yeah, sorry…” you say, stepping out of the bathroom.

“You’ve been acting… strange today. No offense,” Jaemin says.

“None taken,” you sigh. “I know I have. Everything just feels off today, I don’t know why.” You tell him.

Jaemin puts his arm around you and you both begin walking back to the table the others were at. “It’s okay to feel that way… I think everyone does. It just sucks to watch you feel so sad.” Jaemin says. He sighs. “I really hope you start feeling better soon. I miss hearing your laugh.”

You smile. “I miss it too,” you say, reaching the table. Jaemin scoots into the booth and you follow after. You try to ignore the horrible feeling in the pit of your stomach and have a good afternoon with your friends. You ended up starting to feel better. You stole some of Hyuck’s food after panicking and not ordering some of your own. You laughed at everyone’s jokes and dumb arguments, and before you knew it, an hour had passed. You all decided to stop being a bother and leave. You waited outside as everyone paid; Jaemin offered to pay for you since all you got was a drink.

“Are you heading home?” Jeno asked Jaemin.

He nodded. “I’m gonna walk this one home and then head home myself,” he said, resting his head on yours.

Jeno nodded. “I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”

Renjun and Hyuck also waved goodbye. They were all going to Jeno’s. You went your separate ways, and as much as you loved them, you were glad to be alone with Jaemin. Your house wasn’t too far, but even if it was just a few minutes, you were glad to be with him.

“Are you just gonna go home and do homework?” you ask.

Jaemin nods. “Yeah… it’s probably gonna take some time.”

“Sorry baby,” you say. “I’ll facetime you once my mom gets home,” you tell him.

Your mother worked late, so you were in charge of looking after your younger brother, Jisung, until she got home. He was only 2 years younger than you, so it’s not like it was hard, but you still felt obligated to keep tabs on him.

“You don’t have to,” he says. You both walked through your driveway and to the front door. “But if you want to, however… I would love it if you did.” he grins as you open your door.

“Well, then expect a call later,” you say, grabbing both of his hands.

Jaemin leans in and kisses you, and for a second, it feels like everything is okay.

“Gross!” a voice yells. You jump away from Jaemin and turn around.

“Jisung, your sister and her boyfriend are smashing their faces together again!” Chenle, who was standing in the kitchen, yells. Jisung’s pokes his head around the corner.

“Shut up, Chenle.” you say, grinning. “You’re not a child, kissing isn’t that weird.”

You step inside, taking off your shoes and setting your bag down. Jaemin steps in behind you and walks to the kitchen, putting Chenle in a headlock. “You little jerk,” Jaemin teases.

Chenle giggles, trying to get out of Jaemin’s arms. You walk to the living room where Jisung had gone, continuing his video game. “How was your day?” you ask.

“Good.” Jisung says, eyes still glued to the TV.

“That’s good,” you look back to the kitchen and see that Jaemin has released Chenle, and is now talking to him. “Do you have homework?”

Jisung nods. You watch the TV, and watch his character die. Jisung sighs and sets the controller down, turning to you. “Yeah.”

“Okay. Can you try and get it done before Mom gets home?” you ask.

Jisung nods. “Yeah… Chenle and I have the same homework so we can do it together, I guess.”

You nod and go back to the kitchen. Talking to Jisung sometimes felt like talking to a brick wall. “I better get going.” Jaemin says. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

You walk him to the door. “I’ll see you.” you grab both of his hands again, never wanting to let go. Jaemin kisses your cheek and turns.

You bite your lip. Why was this horrible feeling back so suddenly? “Hey, Jaemin?” you call after him. He turns back around.

“I love you.” you say, almost too softly. For a second you weren’t even sure if he heard you, but he gives you that classic smile, the one that made you fall in love with him in the first place.

“I love you too.” he blows you a kiss before walking away.

[9:41 p.m.]

You sat down on your bed, freshly out of the shower. Since Jaemin had left, you helped Jisung and Chenle with their homework, did your own homework, and facetimed Jaemin for a bit while he did his. And then you took a long shower in an attempt to clear your head.

You look around for your phone, finding it hidden in a blanket on your bed. You answer some unread texts and then open Instagram again. You’re met with the same ads from before. Your heart drops.

Without thinking you click the link again, pressing download. It downloaded in no time. Your thumb hovers over the icon of the app. The moment you muster up the courage to click on it, there’s a knock at your bedroom door.

You jump, startled, but get up and open it.

Your mother’s exhausted face greets you. “Hi sweetie. I’m going straight to bed, so… goodnight. I hope you had a good day.”

You smile, shakily exhaling. “Today was fine. Goodnight.” you say, not wanting to delay her sleep anymore.

She gives you a warm smile before going to her room. Before you close your door, Jisung appears from the staircase nearby. “You going to bed?” he asks.

“Uh,” you open your phone, looking at the time.

ButterFlyHQ

Greetings. What is your name?

You ignore the notification. “No… but I’ll probably be in my room for the rest of the night.”

“Oh, okay… well… goodnight then.” he says, going to his room which was right across from yours. He closes the door without another word.

You press your lips together and shut your door as well, laying down on your bed. You opened your phone and clicked on ButterFly.

1 Unread Message

ButterFlyHQ

Greetings. What is your name?

You hesitantly enter your name. You regret it as soon as you responded — maybe you should’ve used a fake name.

ButterFlyHQ

Hello, (y/n).

What do you wish to change?

Wow, straight to the point… You think.

You wonder what you should enter. You try to think of the most outrageous thing you could think of, something completely unimaginable. Something that would surely trigger the Butterfly Effect.

There were things you actually wanted to change.

You wanted your mother to stop being so stressed.

You wanted Jisung to be happy.

You wanted to stop feeling so insecure about you and Jaemin’s relationship.

You wanted Jiwoo to finally pass trigonometry.

Okay, the last one was a bit dumb, and actually imaginable. And then you thought of the most impossible thing.

You

I want my best friend to come back to life.

You almost laugh as you sent the message. But your faint smile fades at the immediate response.

ButterFlyHQ

What is your best friend’s name?

This was suddenly feeling too personal.

You

Mark Lee.

ButterFlyHQ

Understood. We will try our best to meet your request.

You stare at your phone. Now what? You turned your phone off and set it on your nightstand, plugging it into the charger before laying down and staring at the ceiling.

Great, now some random stranger knows some girl thinks an app can bring her friend back from the grave.

When you got the chance, you were gonna chew Jiwoo out for bringing that app up. You get under the covers and close your eyes, trying to sleep. But your mind was racing. You finally feel yourself drifting, your mind finally giving you some peace.

Your last thought before you finally fall asleep is Jaemin. You just wanted to be with him again, his arm around your shoulder, his fingers lazily intertwined with yours. You felt yourself smiling before finally falling asleep, unknowingly saying goodbye to your last normal day.

[stayarmytinyzenmoa-l]

Glitched [Change Your Passwords]

Hacker AU

TW: Implied Stalking, Language

Pairing: (NCT) Unknown x Reader

Genre: Choose Your Story, Thriller, Suspense, Mystery

(3/?) [Previous] | [Next]

[Main Masterlist] | [Glitched Masterlist]

Word Count: 3.9K

Notes: Sorry for the wait on this one! I’ve been studying for my classes, but don’t worry I won’t leave you all hanging haha. Also I’ve updated the video links to go to a video archive blog of mine because the private posts were just not working out for me so I hope this will be easier! I ask that you don’t follow that blog only for spoilers as I’ll upload videos/other medias there first prior to posting the actual fics so you might either get spoiled or just really confused lol. But yeah, I hope you enjoy!!

Disclaimer: Please remember that this is an AU and a work of fiction, obviously the idol(s) mentioned/written/implied would never partake in or condone these actions. I would never wish any of these actions to occur to anyone mentioned in the writings of this story, nor do I wish any harm on them. The idols mentions in this work are meant to be acknowledged as no more than face claims and are not meant to represent the idols in any way.

You sat down first with Jaemin and Yangyang still in line for whatever it was they had decided to eat for lunch, you, meanwhile, decided on changing your passwords. Figure, you have since decided on calling him that since that’s what he told you to tell Instagram, seemed very adamant on it, and thus here you were, changing literally all of your passcodes and writing them down on the side of the paper bag you requested.

But as you did this the creeping feeling of being watched never left you. The security cameras were pointed the other way and no one, to your knowledge, was making an active effort to stare at you. It had to be related to that scare from earlier, you had nearly forgotten about it while in your lab. You finished changing the last passcode and looked down at your phone, the last passcode being the one to your Tumblr account, and you opened your messages, secretly hoping that maybe you’d receive another message from Figure, but none were presented to you. No doubt changing your passcodes might have disconnected you from the person as a whole. But, of course, right when you least expect it, things always turn around. Then in came a message from user011719.

https://videoarchivesatzml.tumblr.com/post/644877251145515008/glitched-change-your-passwords-video

You played the video again. Why did it just stop mid-sentence? You tried to play it again but the message, much like the one you received earlier, disappeared. Like it was never there in the first place. You wondered what could have happened, if you didn’t know what you did already you would’ve assumed that he cut the recording too soon or that he ran out of WiFi, but this couldn’t have been the case, it was too easy, too simple.

But you were more concerned about another thing Figure had mentioned. To your knowledge, no one had used your phone. The only person that it could’ve been was… Jaehyun. But why would he have done that? There was no purpose as to why he would do that.

“(Y/N)!” Seonghwa called out to you and you waved.

“Oh, hello!”

“Oh, thank god, you have your phone,” he sighs. “Did Jaehyun give it to you?”

“Yeah, he did,” you were surprised by how convenient Seonghwa’s timing was, but you had to give him the benefit of the doubt. “Why?”

“Bambam was looking through it.”

“He was what?!”

“Yeah, that’s why Somi isn’t around right now, she’s probably beating his ass. He’s been here the longest but Somi doesn’t really give a fuck,” Seonghwa shakes his head. “Don’t worry, he didn’t open anything, he was just being a bitch.”

“How did he know my password?”

“You really should change your password from 0000, (Y/N), it’s too simple,” Seonghwa laughs.

“Oh god, don’t worry I already changed it. What did he want anyway?”

“I’m pretty sure he was just being stupid, Bambam acts like that but he’s not a dick, he looked surprised himself when he got your password, I figured I’d tell you because that was just out of line.”

“It was, yeah, thanks for telling me,” you nodded your head.

“It was the right thing to do, I’m gonna go head out now, I have to make sure Somi didn’t go too far, I’ll see you back in lab.”

“See you,” he waved at you again and walked out of the food court. You pulled out your phone and stared at it, people seriously have no boundaries. Bambam had already rubbed you the wrong way but this was honestly such a dick move, you shook your head.

You hoped that he didn’t see your Instagram, Seonghwa said that he didn’t see or open anything but still. You’d have to thank Somi later, but you still couldn’t believe that he was so shameless with it. The nerve of some people, if this were a cartoon you’d be certain that steam would be blowing out of your ears, you would definitely give him a piece of your mind back in lab later. You looked at the DMs, if anyone else saw this they would be more than just suspicious, no doubt, or they would think that you were crazy and laugh at you.

But looking at these DMs, you thought back to the video. Figure mentioned that there was someone keeping him captive, and with this knowledge, you felt your heart rate rise slightly, and you could only think of the worse. But, despite this, you were at least able to screenshot that one part that he asked you to send to not.here127, something that you were glad that you did because you hardly remembered what else he sent.

You left the app and opened your notes app, then you tried to type out the screenshot. You got pretty far until about the second sentence, at that point the keyboard started lagging until it stopped working altogether.

“What the fuck?” You whispered to yourself and restarted the app, trying to type out the message again, but still came the same result. You even tried restarting your phone altogether, but still, the same result. Until your keypad started moving itself, and you gasped loudly enough for some people to turn their heads. You dropped your phone on the table. “Uh, sorry, just family news,” you said aloud. Many of the people seemingly understood this and turned back around. But when you looked down at your phone, the lone sentence on your notes app read:

“Don’t. - Figure”

It was like you could feel your blood circulating through you. You had no idea how to feel right now, nor did you want to take the time to figure it out. Then it started typing again.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have hacked into your phone but… something came up, and it would just be safer for you if I did this. I’d tell you what it was but it would be better if I didn’t. Just… tell him in person, okay?”

You nodded your head slowly and picked your phone back up, reopening Instagram. Part of you felt more awkward now knowing that this Figure was in your phone, probably watching you as you typed, but you wanted to give what limited trust you could. Then another foreign feeling came over you, one you’ve felt since entering this facility, actually, and when you looked to the corner of the room, you saw the camera focused right on you, then you continued the conversation.

You stared at the camera that was still trained on you, then at your phone’s camera. You wanted to cover the camera, to be honest, but two things stopped you. One being how you would make fun of your friends when they did so, and two being how Figure had mentioned that the whole reason why he hacked into your phone was because “something came up.” Now, you aren't stupid. You could put two and two together and no doubt this “something” was related to this new person that not.here127 mentioned, Connect.

“So how’s your first day so far?” Jaemin asks once he sits down. You locked your phone and placed it back into your pocket.

“It’s great, it’s everything I could’ve hoped for, I just can’t believe that I’m finally here, you know?” You answered. Jaemin had his usual lopsided smile on while Yangyang sat down, he looked between both of you and a sly smirk crawled on his face. You knew that look, you knew what he was planning and you stomped on his foot before he could think about it.

“You okay, Yangyang?” Jaemin asks.

“Just fine,” he winces. “But how’s the hell lab, (Y/N)?”

“Actually not that bad… so far. But I shouldn’t jinx it,” you shook your head. “How about you, Lab V, right?”

“I think my mentor has it out for me. He’s always pointing out the little mistakes I make, it’s so nerve-racking…”

“Who’s your mentor?” Jaemin asks.

“Sicheng…” Yangyang frowns.

“Oh, you’re fine. He’s like that with everyone.”

“What does your lab work on?”

“Uh, it’s kind of weird,” Yangyang hums. “Some biomatter stuff.”

“You don’t know what you’re studying?!”

“I mean I do! But like, it’s weird,” Yangyang shook his head. “Technically, it’s called Biomatter Space Compression. But like, it’s weird because like… I think there’s more to it,” Yangyang frowns.

“So like what space does to the body?”

“Yeah, but like… you know what, forget it, I have no idea how to explain it,” Yangyang shakes his head. “Give me like a week to make sense of it,” he laughs.

“I used to be in that lab, and that’s probably the best way to explain it,” Jaemin sighs. A loud beeping noise goes off and Yangyang groans.

“Shut up,” your jaw drops while you fought back a smile. Yangyang reluctantly pulls out a device probably twice his age. “Is that a pager?!” You started to laugh.

“Yeah,” he holds it in his hand and shows you. “As soon as my supervisor busted this out I almost laughed out loud,” Yangyang chuckles.

“Oh god, that’s old…”

“I know, looks like he’s calling us all back in early, so I’ll see you after then,” Yangyang waves goodbye and leaves the cafeteria, leaving you and Jaemin behind.

“Ah, I guess lunch is almost over,” Jaemin stretches his arms back and yawns. “I’ll walk you back to the labs,” Jaemin tosses the paper bag into the trash bin and stands up, waiting for you to catch up to him. You quickly followed suit and walked next to him. You both exited the bustling lunch hall and walked back into the outdoor walkway, the grand structure never failing to amaze you but to be fair it is still your first day. You were both making a beeline for the labs, and you, of course, noticed the cameras discreetly following you the entire time. You soon approached your lab building and you both stopped in front of it.

“Thanks…” you didn’t really have much to say, what do you say in this situation? You both had only known each other briefly and never on the level to easily make small talk. You were about to go back inside when he said something rather peculiar.

“No problem… You must be pretty smart if you got this internship, you know. If you feel like something’s off, then it probably is,” he says. Then he walks off without giving you a chance to answer. You walked into the locker room with a heavy mind, putting your equipment back on and begrudgingly placing your phone back into the UV chamber, feeling at least a little more secure with your now changed passwords, then you walked back into the lab.

“(Y/N)!”

“Bambam,” the name came out harshly from your mouth and he shoots an awkward smile.

“You guys told (Y/N)?”

“Of course we did!” Seonghwa glares at him.

“I’m so sorry, (Y/N), he grabbed it because it’s the same model as his phone and he ended up opening it since you both coincidentally had the same password,” Somi sighs. “0000, really?! You have important lab information on your phone and your password is 0000?!”

“I know okay? I changed it,” Bambam rolls his eyes.

“To what? 1234?” Jaehyun laughs.

“Well, when we’re done here, I’m gonna change it again,” Bambam crosses his arms. “Sorry about that, (Y/N), it was a genuine mistake, I didn’t open anything, promise,” he says. Your shoulders relaxed, you couldn’t help mistakes, and though this was an eerie coincidence there wasn’t much you could say anyway.

“It’s fine,” you shook your head. Somi’s explanation made enough sense, you think. “Just be more careful next time, I’d rather not have a complete stranger going through my phone, mistakenly or not,” you said sternly. The other members of the lab group looked at you with a strange expression, maybe you said it a bit too harshly, and truthfully normally you’d shrug it off but with the whole thing going on with Figure, or Connect, or whoever the hell you were DMing on Instagram is just getting to you. Then there were those damn cameras, both around the facility and on your own phone.

“Sorry about that, I’m just a little stressed,” you shook your head and tried to play it off. Bambam starts laughing out loud and you flinched at the sudden outburst.

“Oh, don’t worry, we get it! Seonghwa was worse when he first started,” Bambam’s worried look is immediately replaced with a happier one while he clapped the other one’s shoulder. “You should’ve seen him, he snapped at all of us.”

“I didn’t.”

“Oh, you did,” Jaehyun chuckles and moves to the lab table. “But now, with all of that out of the way, we have to work,” Jaehyun says. Everyone moved to their stations quickly, picking up where you each left off prior to lunch. You were put on data recording, something not precisely fun but also the only thing you could currently be trusted with. You were amazed by how easily they all worked together, you couldn’t help but feel like you were just stepping on their toes really, but every time they’d call you over they’d be nice about it at the very least. You each moved around the clock nonstop, you walking around the rather large lab table with the rather large laptop to each station as the main researchers called you over to record something, and them occasionally overlapping in their stations as each of the trials were carried out and analyzed.

“Alright then,” Bambam stands up and stretches his back. “I’m going home.”

“Already?” You asked while you looked at the wall clock, it read 7:48 pm, about an hour away from clock out time. You then looked at the laptop in your hands and saw about 3/4s of the spreadsheet filled. “Don’t we need to finish the rest of this today?”

“Nah, the rest of the trials take about a day to develop, so we’re good on waiting, or at least I am,” Bambam says. “You did good, rookie, don’t worry about it,” he says.

“Oh, thanks,” you cleared your throat.

“Be safe on your way home then, Bambam,” Jaehyun says without looking up from his microscope. “Don’t worry, (Y/N), we don’t have strict clock-out times,” he says while turning the bulb off on the microscope.

“Heading out too?” Somi asks.

“Yup, you all stay safe,” Jaehyun waves at them and walks out of the lab, following close behind Bambam.

“I’m almost done here,” Somi twists open the pipette drip and watches the chemical drop into the solution. “Just have to finish developing these samples and recording color changes, if you want I can take it from here, (Y/N),” she offers.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, (Y/N), you’ve been walking around all day, I’m surprised you’re not lightheaded from all the times you walked around here,” she says. “I’m serious! Jaehyun left so he won’t know,” she says.

“I won’t tell anyone,” Seonghwa shrugs while he closes the mice cage.

“You’re cleared!” Somi smiles.

“Thanks, Somi,” you had on a tired smile, it was true, your feet were killing you with all the walking you’ve been doing and you haven’t had a chance to sit down.

“Get home safe,” she says.

“Do you need a ride home?” Seonghwa asks.

“No thank you, I’ll just take the bus,” you said, hoping that Yangyang was still here.

“Okay, see you tomorrow then,” Somi waved at you while you left. You entered the empty locker room and shrugged your lab coat off and hung it in your locker, placing your goggles on the top shelf and grabbing your bag. Then you turned around and, with your breath held, opened the UV chest. You saw your phone resting undisturbed in the same spot you left it and you felt a wave of relief while you picked it up. Everything was still in order and you spotted the text from Yangyang simply stating that his team messed up an experiment and they had to redo the whole thing and told you to just head home without him.

“Well, great,” you shook your head and walked out into the darkened facility. “West wing…” you mumbled to yourself, following the signs quickly. You pushed open the double doors and walked out into the nighttime, the moon already in the sky. You opened Instagram and quickly read through the conversation again while you descended the steps, and you soon noticed the car parked in front of you, and as you walked over to it, someone stopped you.

“Oh, (Y/N)!” Jaehyun called out to you, he looked like he was just about to re-enter the building. “Perfect timing,” he says while holding up his phone.

“Oh, hello,” you said. He was the first person who came up to you out here.

“I forgot that you weren’t in our work group chat, we were planning on getting dinner together,” he shows you the conversation. You spotted Somi’s text saying that she forgot to tell you about it and asked if anyone had your number. “Want to come?” He asks. You quickly glanced at the car behind him, it hadn’t moved since you walked out and the windows were tinted.

[[Follow Jaehyun or Go to the Car]]

General Tag List: @vickylamore @hangsxng @mizzdivagirl7-blog @sehunnies-hunnie96 @roses09020617 @bat-shark-repellant @cloudreads @awesomei @raeincitizen @here-aeth

Glitched: @red-moon-dream​ @vinmylife @tyuningkai @fortrest @leesalts @tvehyungs-gf @gaiyofanfiction @lvvcky 

[fandom-necromancer]

A little Distraction Part 2

This was prompted by the wonderful AO3 users what_on_io, DetReed900 and aguuah! Hope you enjoy it here too, it has been fun to return to a reverse AU again!

Fandom: Detroit become human | Ship: Reed900, Hancon/Hannor | AU: reverse AU (Warning: mentioned physical abuse, implied sexual abuse) tumblr link of part1 not available anymore  [Part3]   [Part4]   [Part5]   [>read complete on AO3] 

‘Are you alright?‘ Richard watched the android stand in front of the mirror in his hallway next to the door. He was glitching still, motions jerky and disrupted halfway through. Over and over again he touched the gash on the bridge of his nose, then pushed a strand of hair back. Richard wasn’t sure whether it was a software error causing him to go through the same idle animations or if it was a nervous tick. Maybe it was both, he thought. He had underestimated how human they could be before. No surprise they would suffer from human problems too. ‘Y-y-yes.’ Gavin turned away from the mirror. ‘I doooon’t know h-h-how to bind a tie.’ Richard huffed amused and took a step forwards. The android stepped back immediately. ‘I can help you with it’, Richard offered then, staying where he was. Gavin played with the seam of his shirt. It was at least one size too big for him, but it was a lot better than the torn clothing from before. He looked… cute? He definitely looked cute, but the more prominent impression was that he looked lost.

The android stood in the hallway of a house he didn’t know in clothing that wasn’t his own with a stranger. Richard dared to say he knew the feeling all too well. Everyone he had ever met felt like a stranger to him no matter how much time they spent. ‘No. I can figure it out myself.’ Richard watched him struggle tying a knot and as he finally managed to get the order of loops right, it still looked lopsided and messy. The android’s shoulders slumped in a jerky motion and Richard’s eyes rested on his LED. It had never changed from red, but he thought to see it speed up. ‘You don’t have to wear one at all’, he tried gently then. ‘My brother always calls me an uptight idiot with a stick up his ass.’ The android flinched at his words but relaxed a bit as Richard laughed to himself. ‘You know what? I won’t wear one either, it’s stupid.’

He hurried to untie his and undo the first button of his shirt. Then he threw the tie on his disused phone counter and took his keys. With some hesitation Gavin undid his too and put it on the counter neatly folded, careful not to touch anything but the fabric although his hands were shaking and trembling in malfunctions. ‘You don’t have to accompany me’, he tried again. ‘If you are this nervous.’ ‘I-I-I’m not nervous!’, Gavin called out. ‘I’m just broken! And… And… Phck!’ ‘Hey, it’s okay. You can tell me.’ ‘Phck you! What the h-h-hell is your prooooblem? Wh-wh-what do you want fr-fr-fr-fr-from meeee?’ ‘I don’t want anything-‘ ‘No! What is your-r-r intentiooon? Tell me. You want me to become yoooour house-m-m-maid? You want someone to phck? Someone wh-wh-who has to obey you? S-s-s-s-someoooone who can’t say no? What do you want? Why d-d-d-did you take me from the scraaaapyard?’

Richard sighed and turned around to lean against the wall. He looked to the ceiling, holding eye-contact and telling the truth about his feelings impossible for him. ‘I want to help you. That’s really all there is. I’m a cop. I’m supposed to do good, but all I see is me making life worse for people who had never gotten a chance most of the time. I refuse to believe people become drug dealers and robbers on their own terms. Too often I think I’m just taking care of the symptoms of a failing system and usually that’s when I get drunk and my brother has to pull me out of some ditch. So okay, you want to hear I’m some terrible human that wants to use you? Fine. Yes, I want to use you to make myself feel better. To know I did some true good in this world, okay? I don’t really have friends because I’m who I am. I have problems keeping up contact with my brother. The last time I saw someone happy because of what I’ve done was… Fuck, I don’t know anymore. And I know, that’s my own fault for not getting out there more, for not talking more to those who like me and for overthinking every friendly word. But I can’t change that.’ He sighed deeply and let himself sink to the ground. ‘Hell, taking you away from that scrapyard was a heat of the moment decision because I was fed up with… everything, I guess. I wanted to change something. And if it’s just changing up my own routine a bit. So there you have it. What’s your verdict, huh?’

He felt the android looking at him, but he didn’t lift his head. Incredibly silent he finally got an answer: ‘You are broken too.’ Richard huffed. ‘Maybe. Wait… Too?’ He heard the android glitch, servos whirring from wrong instructions. Then the android was sitting next to him – still at a save distance but closer than before. ‘I once had a faaaaamily. I-I-I-I was bought as a home s-s-s-security system with the aaaaadded benefit of having a fully functionaaaal caretaker program inst-st-st-stalled. He was divorced, I never found out whyyyy. I knew he had kids and tried to get them b-b-b-back and that he had severe anger-issues. Maybe he had been violeeeeeeeent, I don’t know. I only knew he was lonely, that’s why he got meeee. I was his only company until he met someone. A s-s-s-single mother with two kids. He was lovely to them. But he was aaafraid to lose them like his last family, soooo-‘ Gavin’s voicebox broke off and Richard looked up. The android had hugged his arms around his torso.

‘Wheneeeeeever h-h-h-he waaas angry, he-he-he’ The malfunctions of his vocal box got worse, so Richard said what he doubted the android could vocalise: ‘He beat you so he didn’t hit his wife or kids.’ Gavin nodded, hugging himself closer. ‘It was f-f-fine, my mission was to p-p-p-protect the family. And b-b-by letting him do as pleased I- I kept them saaaafe.’ Richard waited, but the silence stretched. ‘How did you end up on the scrapyard?’ ‘Deviancy. He heaaaard other androids in myyy situation disobey and a-a-a-attacking their humans. He was scared. He drove me a-a-away to the s-s-scrapyard. Heee told me- He p-p-promised me to come back. Said I should wait f-f-for him. That he would cooome back for me when h-h-he was ready to face the con-con-consequences of his actions.’

‘But aren’t you deviant? Why did you stay?’, Richard asked. ‘I’m d-d-deviant. I deviated because I thought I w-w-was family. But he didn’t trust me and j-j-just duuumped me there. I stayed because I still believe he was a good person. He had a problem h-h-he didn’t seek heeeelp for. But he cared a lot about his family. Juust not about m-m-me.’ Richard sighed. ‘I can bring you back to the scrapyard if you want to keep waiting’, he offered. ‘I’m sorry, if you-‘ ‘No. D-d-don’t be sooorry for wanting to heeelp’, Gavin interrupted. ‘And l-l-like you said, I doubt he would cooome. I w-w-waited for so long. Maybe it’s time for… change.’ ‘How can I help then?’ Richard focussed on Gavin’s eyes for once and they found his as if establishing connection. ‘You already did. C-c-caring about me. Helping me. Noooot wanting something back. I… would you mind me st-st-staying? As a test maaaybe?’ Richard smiled. ‘Sure. I think some company would do me good as well.’ Gavin looked away and nodded to himself. ‘Then it’s a deal. But I can go whenever I w-w-want?’ ‘Of course.’ Gavin let his head hit the wall behind him and for the first time the movement didn’t cause any glitches in the rest of his body. He even closed his eyes. It was a whole new display of relaxation and Richard took it in, surprised and intrigued by it.

Then Richard’s phone disturbed the silence. He took it out and answered, grimacing as he heard Connor’s voice. ‘Nines, I know you said you would be late, but please tell me you are coming sometime this century! The food’s getting cold and Hank’s the only one to keep me from driving over to you and pulling you with me personally! I swear, if you are not already on your way, then I’ll-‘ ‘We are already outside!’, Richard lied and got an amused huff from the android next to him. ‘I’m opening the door as we speak, but I can’t drive with a phone in my head as you should know, so I’ll end the call now.’ ‘Nines, you have your location on, I can see you’re still at home, I dare you, don’t lie to me agai-‘ Richard ended the call seriously scared of what Connor was threatening to do to him. They better hurried to Connor’s Christmas dinner. He opened the door and jumped out, cursing as he realised that he had forgotten to put on any shoes. Gavin appeared at his side, throwing them towards him and walking towards the car, shaking his head.

‘D-d-d-definitely broken’, he commented chuckling.

[>next part]

[loser-poser-emo]

why emo changed so much in 00s?

why emo became mainstream? (in 00s). or why emo became commercialized? (in 00s). or why emo is like that? why emo became a label, which people started to use to mark everything that is sad? and more alternative headings. first, i'm not talking about emo rap here! it's a completely different genre and it's a theme for another post. although, it wouldn't be fait not to mention them, cuz a lot of emos say that label is wrong. and i will try to write about wrong labels tonight! i will say that emo rap may be named this. just it's not real emo! but it's not fake in mcr-fob-atl way it's just rap, not rock. it's a valid genre... okay, back to the theme. it is interesting, how of something that was more of a scene thing, emo became a huge thing. a huge label. i don't wanna say that sunny day real estate were underground. hell, even rites of spring weren't completely unsuccessful! but the thing is, if you ask people on a street which is the most popular emo band - most of them will say my. chemical. romance. and that is the problem. and it's not just emo evolved!! you don't get it!! bla-bla-bla!! it's something more. way more.

it all started in 00s, when people realised they can make a profit of emo stuff and there were tons of bands who were positioned in society as emo bands while being their own form - and like that, fifteen years ago almost every popular alt-rock band was called emo! some kind of fashion became a deeper point in whole subculture - you know what i'm talking about - all this heavy makeup, huge fringes... this kind of style became inseparable of the word "emo" back then - and even now! everyone was emo, everyone was listening to mcr, p!atd, the used... (none of them are emo)... while in 90s - aka "second wave" - everyone just dressed up as nerds and copied weezer's rivers cuomo . but there were "real emo" bands in 00s, don't worry.

this was an insert of my last post's draft. what else can i say? emo became a subculture. a huge one. and now you're probably like whaaat? but it was in 90s? when me and my friend went to the get up kids' show and there were christie front drive fans? the short answer is... yes. the wrong answer is... no. i'm gonna do something that you all will never forgive me. i'm gonna compare emo to... grunge. no! no! don't close the post. i'm gonna explain. you probably thought i'm gonna say nirvana are emo here's proof. insert long silence. no. but the point is- it's a pretty famous fact that grunge scene and emo scene (at least, in the 90s) were maybe a bit but tied. maybe it was inevitable. two alt-rock scenes, originated in 80s, with hardcore roots... you want proof? sunny day real estate(i think, the most popular 90s emo band) were signed to the same label as nirvana. and guys from there were playing in foo fighters for some time. yeah. also, jawbreaker. they toured with nirvana. my point is, in my opinion grunge now is having something really alike with emo. hear me out. i'm not saying it also started in 00s. in my opinion it was at least in 2010s. but i'm not really a grunge expert. feel free to correct me about it and well, everything. so in 2010s, with popularity of tumblr(ironic) the grunge became more of a lifestyle? if it's not your first day on the internet, you may know what i'm hinting at. to add to my point, i would like to quote from aesthetics wiki (please don't sue me): "Grunge is a darker, edgier style that is usually depicted these days with glitches, vinyl records, cigarettes, neon lights, and the color black (which has absolutely nothing to do with the original grunge)."

so grunge became a style. really hip, huh? and it was inspired by original, real grunge. and you may say "well, if it was new kind of grunge, why mcr aren't emo?". BECAUSE. arctic monkeys were called grunge. did it make them grunge? no. but try to search grunge on spotify. it's really funny. but the fact is, the grunge became into it's own internet thing. but now most of people say what is real grunge and it's a common thing. but it's different with emo. cause the majority here accepts mcr as emo. maybe i should look from a different side. maybe in 00s there just became a subculture inspired by sdre and they had their own music, and clothing, and everything. but why is it also called emo? WHY?? WHY?? god i stopped understanding everything emo doesnt exist nothing matters

[lake-arrius-caverns]

Nerevarine Rising

Chapter 9: Outlander Avenger

this took too long to post heehoo ive noticed that sometimes italics don’t save when im posting on tumblr? might have been a glitch idk but in that case it’s better to read on AO3 where the formatting is actually proper lol 

summary On their arrival to Vivec City, the twins part ways and Fahjoth finds himself drawn into the investigation of a very serious crime. 

content warnings violence, blood, minor character death

read under the cut or on AO3, cheers 👍

:: First :: || << Previous << || >> Next >> || :: Masterpost ::

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“Ey, Ribyna, have you ever heard of Ashlanders?”

“Yeah, why?”

Fahjoth paused, pulling a disgruntled pout. The sun had well and truly set now; the last vestiges of warmth had evaporated entirely, replaced by a nipping chill and creeping shadows that submerged their surroundings in deep blue blankets. Vivec City loomed in the distance, unlike anything Fahjoth had ever seen before. Instead of individual houses like he had seen in every other town he’d been to so far, the city was populated by rows of colossal cantons, square and blocky yet towering over them with a kind of intimidating grandeur. Walkways bridged the gaps between the cantons, stretching over the rolling waters of the Ascadian Isles’ open bay, and several flags and tapestries fluttered from the sides of the cantons, embroidered with differing patterns and art that Fahjoth couldn’t make out from a distance. 

Turning his gaze back to Ribyna as they crossed the bridge towards the first canton, Fahjoth gave an exasperated huff, though there was no real annoyance in his tone. “Oh, so it’s just me, then?” he questioned. “Being an idiot as per usual. D’you know, I made a right tit of myself to Cosades earlier. Told him I didn’t know what Ashlanders were, then he gave me a bollocking for being a dipshit. I mean, how was I supposed to know? Nobody’s told me!” 

Ribyna’s response was surprisingly terse. “Well, maybe if you kept your mouth shut more often instead of chatting a load of shit, you’d listen and actually learn something for once.”

Fahjoth blinked, taken aback by this harsh rebuttal. He was used to Ribyna’s blunt manner of speaking of course, but this was something else entirely. He had noticed her demeanour getting more subdued and her posture stiffening the closer they got to Vivec City, and chalked it up to weariness after their long walk. Now, however, he was not so sure. Was that a hint of nervousness he detected in her voice?

“Are you alright?” he asked, then frowned sympathetically. “Bit nervous about being in the big city?”

“What?” Ribyna turned back to Fahjoth and flashed him a scathing look. “No, of course not. Don’t be stupid.” 

“Then what is it?” He received no response, as Ribyna stopped walking and examined their surroundings, occasionally dropping her gaze down and squinting at the map she held. 

“Right, I’ve got some shit to do,” she announced, as if she hadn’t even heard Fahjoth’s concerns. Fahjoth was certain that this wasn’t the case. “I’ll see you later.”

“Whoah, hang on a second!” Fahjoth protested, disconcerted by Ribyna’s unexpected change of plans. “I didn’t realise we’d be splitting up. What are you doing, anyway?” 

“Just... stuff,” Ribyna replied vaguely. Fahjoth grimaced; perhaps it was best that he didn’t know the details after all, if she was here on business with the Thieves Guild. 

“Alright, fine,” Fahjoth said, relenting. “But where should I meet you?” 

“Uh...” Ribyna gestured aimlessly at the immediate canton, the details on its banners now impossible to make out in the dark. “The map says this is the Foreign Quarter. Just find a cornerclub or something in here and get a room sorted for us. I’ll meet you back here when I’m done.” 

“Right,” Fahjoth replied mutedly. Admittedly, he was disappointed; he had been assuming that he and Ribyna would explore Vivec City together, but now, he was resigning himself to being Billy-No-Mates for the next few hours, or however long Ribyna would take to do her mysterious errand. “See you later then.” 

Fahjoth thought Ribyna may have flashed him an apologetic glance before she turned away, but then she stalked away along the path flanking the canton and rounded the corner, disappearing out of sight. Heaving a sigh that materialised in the air as a faint puff of steam, Fahjoth turned and headed up the sloping path towards the canton’s upper door, slipping inside and into the warmth. 

The inside of the canton was well-lit with torches and rather cheerfully decorated, an array of potted plants sitting in the corners while colourful tapestries and banners hung from the walls. Fahjoth could see a variety of people going about their business, not just Dunmer but Imperials, Bretons, and Redguards, among others, and in that moment he felt a strange sense of almost belonging. Initially he was surprised, until he realised that he was in the Foreign Quarter, and he was left with a deep feeling of despondency instead. 

This grim reminder that he truly was an outlander was accentuated by the unrelenting glares he received from the Ordinators who patrolled the corridors, striking an intimidating presence with their gleaming gold armour and helmets, fashioned into the shape of a sharp elven face with a crest of hair atop their heads. 

“We’ll have no trouble here,” one of the Ordinators said in a low, rasping voice as he walked by. “Move along.”

Suppressing a shudder, Fahjoth began to wander around the upper floor of the canton, trying to look as if he knew where he was going as opposed to being totally lost. Fortunately, it didn’t take too long before he found himself at a door with a sign overhead reading The Black Shalk Cornerclub. Figuring that he was not going to find anywhere more ideal than this, he pushed the door open and stepped in with caution. 

The cornerclub was quiet, with only a few punters sitting around tables or standing in the corners of the room, deep in conversation. A Dunmer stood organising a collection of bottles behind the counter, while an Argonian sat at the bar nursing a drink of his own. Fahjoth approached, plonked himself onto a stool near to the Argonian, and offered him a smile of greeting. The Argonian, who had seemed quite tense as Fahjoth sat down, suddenly relaxed and gave Fahjoth a polite smile in return. 

“Can I have a mazte, please?” he asked the barman, reaching into his pocket for his coin purse. “Oh, and how much would a room be for the night for two people?”

“That’ll be twenty drakes for the room, sera,” the barman replied, pushing a bottle of mazte towards Fahjoth. “And ten for the mazte.”

“Oh, alright, cheers! I’ll take it then,” Fahjoth replied, handing over the coins with relief. He caught the Argonian’s eye and chuckled, a wry grin curling the corner of his mouth. “Ribyna reckoned it’d be more expensive than that.”

“Ribyna?” the Argonian questioned. 

“Ah, that’s my twin! She’s off doing... something,” Fahjoth answered, his voice trailing off thoughtfully as a mild frown settled on his face. “I’m not sure what. She wouldn’t say.” 

“I see. That sounds rather sinister.” The Argonian smirked. “Forgive me, but I don’t believe we’ve met.”

Fahjoth couldn’t hold back an awkward giggle. “You’re right, sorry. My name’s Fahjoth,” he said, holding his hand out, which the Argonian shook after a brief pause. 

“Huleeya,” he introduced himself, withdrawing his hand and taking a sip of his drink. “Well, I can’t blame your twin for being secretive. Not with this recent spate of attacks on outlanders.” 

Fahjoth’s smile slipped from his face. “Attacks?”

“Oh, yes.” Huleeya nodded gravely. “Not just attacks, but murders. Five outlanders have been found dead this week. Not only that, but two Ordinators have been found dead too. Killed in the same way — that is, with their throats slit.” 

“Gods alive... Do they know who’s doing it?”

“If they knew, they would have been caught already,” Huleeya replied. “The Justice Offices are looking for help in catching the killer, from what I’ve heard.” 

Fahjoth paused. Though this had given him a lot to think about, there was something else he wanted to ask. “Is that why you looked a bit...” — he gestured vaguely with a wave of his hand — “on edge when I came over?”

“Hm? Ah, no. It’s not that,” Huleeya said. “It just wouldn’t be the first time I’ve had trouble from the local Dunmer, that’s all.”

“What do you—?”

“Excuse me, outlander. I should get going.” Huleeya finished the remainder of his drink and stood up. “It was a pleasure to meet you, Fahjoth. You and your twin should be careful if you’re out wandering alone at night.”

“Ah... we will. Thanks, mate,” Fahjoth answered, watching as Huleeya said his farewells to the barkeep and took his leave. Once again, Fahjoth was left alone with his thoughts, and he began to get some very dangerous thoughts indeed. 

The Justice Offices are looking for help in catching the killer...

He bit his lip as he nursed his mazte, quietly wrestling with his own brain. To think that he would be able to go up against a serial killer who had slain two highly trained Ordinators was madness, and yet...

By the time he had drained the last of his mazte from the bottle, he had made his decision. Fahjoth stood up, trying to ignore the creeping feeling of foreboding, dropped off his supplies in his rented room and headed outside into the fresh night air once more. 

                              ——————————————

The Office of the Watch was much further away than Fahjoth had anticipated, and by the time he arrived, his legs — which had been trembling with nerves — were heavy and aching from weariness, which didn’t bode well for what he had to do. It had been a very long day already, and more than anything Fahjoth was craving a nice warm bed to fall into, but he’d come all this way. There was no going back now. 

After navigating the Hall of Justice — with some difficulty, assuaged only slightly by the directions given to him from irate Ordinators on patrol — Fahjoth eventually found himself at the doors of the Office of the Watch, which he knocked gently and waited to be given permission to enter. 

Peering around the door, Fahjoth was faced with a rather small and cluttered office inhabited by three Dunmer in the usual golden cuirass and boots, who were sitting at messy desks and perusing sheaves of parchment. One of them, a dark-haired Mer with a moustache and goatee, eyed Fahjoth as he crossed the threshold, the heavy bags under his eyes indicative of his tiredness.

“Can I help you?” he asked, his voice hoarse. “We’re very busy, as you can see.”

“Sorry to bother you,” Fahjoth apologised, “but I’m looking for an Elam Andas?”

“Yes, that’s me. I am Elam Andas, chief of Vivec's Order of the Watch. Are you here looking for work?”

Fahjoth bit his lip, knowing full well that this was his last chance to back out of his foolish and potentially suicidal mission, but he ploughed on anyway. “I heard you were looking for help solving these recent murders.”

The effect his words had on the office was startling. The officers stopped what they were doing, each of them fixing their red eyes on Fahjoth with dubious expressions. Fahjoth remained silent until Andas spoke again. 

“We cannot officially hire you as only Ordinators can serve the watch,” he explained. “But if you can find this killer and bring them to justice, we’ll see to it that you’re rewarded for your efforts.”

Bring them to justice? Now that was something Fahjoth was sure was well above his pay grade. He had been hoping to do a bit of investigation, to help the Watch with their search, but to be tasked with bringing down a serial killer himself? That wasn’t something he was at all confident he could handle. 

“Oh, I—” he started in alarm, but Andas cut him off. 

“I require no commitment from you,” Andas informed him. “In fact, I can’t even officially accept one. But if you’re serious about helping, I can tell you what we know so far about the killer and the victims.”  

After a moment of hesitation, Fahjoth nodded, and Andas gestured to the seat across his desk. Fahjoth obeyed, sitting and listening in silence. 

“There have been seven victims so far, five outlanders and two Ordinators, and all with their throats slit. Three of the victims were found in the Foreign Quarter, one near the Arena and one in the Hlaalu Compound. None of the outlanders had been on Vvardenfell for more than a week.

“Our Ordinators were found near the body in the Hlaalu Compound, and we think they interrupted the killer at work. Despite the fact that they were armed and on duty, their weapons were still in their sheaths when their bodies were found, which is unsettling. We’re likely looking at someone incredibly stealthy, or adept at illusion magic.”

It was times like this that Fahjoth dearly wished he could read and write. At least then he would have been able to make notes. 

“Finally... there is the matter of witnesses. We’ve had no official witnesses come forward, but one outlander reported being threatened by a Dunmer woman with a dagger in the Hlaalu Compound, around the time of the other murders. He couldn’t give us a very clear description as he teleported himself away to safety, but he told us she was wearing a skirt and netch leather armour.”

Fahjoth nodded, frowning as he tried to absorb all of this information, all the while his heartbeat had quickened uncomfortably with apprehension. Without further ado, he stood and excused himself from the office, heading back outside and into the late night’s chilly grip. 

Hearing about the victims, as well as Huleeya’s dire warning, had strengthened Fahjoth’s resolve. Someone was lurking in the shadows of Vivec City, slaughtering innocent people seemingly purely because of their foreign origins. People just like him.

His years spent away from Morrowind had left him as good as an outlander in the eyes of the native Dunmer, and if someone considered that fact alone a trait punishable by death, then they couldn’t be allowed to continue to walk free. Someone needed to deal with them, and if the city’s Ordinators couldn’t — or wouldn’t — then perhaps it would be up to him. 

Although... it would probably be a good idea to find Ribyna first, Fahjoth figured as he set off towards the city’s northernmost cantons, before he went blundering headfirst to his potential death. Again. 

The path ahead was dark and unsettling, and Fahjoth found himself throwing anxious glances over his shoulder every few minutes, flinching at the slightest unexpected sound and eyeing every shadow with mistrust lest he be ambushed by a dagger-wielding, skirt-donning Dunmer intent on ending his life. It was with relief that he made it to the first of his destinations and, incidentally, the last place he had seen Ribyna heading towards — the Arena. 

                             ——————————————

Unfortunately for Fahjoth, Ribyna was nowhere to be seen, so he lingered around the Arena for long enough to do some investigating, inquiring with a few inhabitants and Ordinators but turning up no new leads. Eventually he was forced to resign himself to the fact that he would be a lone worker in this case — a thought that inspired a well of dread in his gut — and moved on. 

The same was to be said with the Hlaalu Compound, where Fahjoth had checked in the hope that someone would have seen something about the attempted attack, but he had no luck there either. He then moved on to the Foreign Quarter where, to his surprise, an Orc was happy to assist. 

“I recall someone — maybe one of the sewer cleaners — saying something about seeing a Dunmer woman down in the Underworks. Wouldn’t be that odd, but... in the Underworks? That’s odd. Nothing down there but rats and sewers.”

Which led Fahjoth to his next point of investigation — the Underworks. 

                             ——————————————

The moment he stepped foot in the Underworks, the smell hit him like a brick to the face. Almost choking on the pungent stench of sewage water, Fahjoth lingered for just long enough to feel just a little more regret before he set off, trying to forget the misgivings he felt. He yanked his scarf up to cover his nose and mouth and navigated the Underworks as carefully as he could, every footstep deliberately placed to be as quiet as possible. He was well aware that the killer could be lurking around any corner, and the deeper he tread into the sewers the more he felt his legs begin to tremble.  

It was almost silent down here, the only sounds being that of the murky water sloshing against the smooth stone sewer walls and the occasional drip of moisture from the damp-ridden ceiling. Every so often he would hear a rat scuttling around in the darkness and his heart would jolt, requiring him to take a moment to stop and let his adrenaline levels fall after an unpleasant spike that set his pulse racing. 

As he progressed, however, more unpleasant thoughts began to surface in his mind. One possibility kept presenting itself to him, and as hard as he tried to reject it, he found that he couldn’t wholeheartedly dismiss it. 

“What are you doing, anyway?” 

“Just... stuff.”

He remembered that strange look on Ribyna’s face when he mentioned going to Vivec City. He could tell easily when his twin was apprehensive, and as brief as it was, it had been only too clear to see on her face back in Balmora. Was she nervous about returning to the scene of the crime?

But that was ridiculous! His twin wasn’t a murderer! 

What reason would she have to kill outlanders, anyway? The more Fahjoth thought about it, the more illogical it seemed. Least of all because he had never even seen Ribyna wear a skirt for as long as he could remember. So why couldn’t he simply disregard it? The fact that he even had doubts in the first place said enough, and he was even more nervous as he crept through the tunnels, dreading the possibility of seeing his twin around the next bend. 

So wrapped up was he in his own thoughts that as Fahjoth rounded a corner and exited a smaller tunnel into a larger section of the sewers, he didn’t even notice the figure standing at the end of the tunnel until he was looking straight at them. With a choked gasp, he flung himself back around the corner from which he had just emerged and pressed himself against the wall, his heart pounding in his chest and his stomach tied up in knots. After pausing to listen for any sign of the stranger’s approach, he deemed it safe enough to peer around the wall again and get a better look at the figure ahead. 

Even in the low light, he could tell that it was a Dunmer, and they were indeed wearing a skirt with what seemed to be a leather cuirass. This particular corner of the sewer almost looked like a base, with a scruffy bedroll laying on the ground near evidence of where a makeshift fireplace had been lit in the form of a charred mound of wood scraps. A pile of dilapidated crates and debris were strewn haphazardly around the alcove, in some cases holding — or failing to hold — contents like food and bottles of alcohol. Evidently, this was someone who had stocked up for some time. 

Fortunately, she hadn’t noticed Fahjoth yet. She sat atop one of the crates, perusing some sort of book or journal and occasionally making notes. A dagger — stained an ominous rusty hue — sat by her side, and Fahjoth’s suspicions were all but confirmed. 

How was he going to do this?

He could call it a day, back out quietly the way he came and return to the Office of the Watch with what he knew of the killer’s whereabouts. But even then, would anything get done? Would the Ordinators get here in time before the killer made another move, and claimed another victim?

Perhaps if he could sneak up behind her, he could get the advantage. He knew better than anyone that he was no master of stealth, but she looked fairly preoccupied. Perhaps if he was quiet and quick, then�� 

No sooner had the thought crossed his mind did he become aware of a weight suddenly pulling vigorously on his foot. As he looked down, he silently squirmed and grimaced at the sight of a large rat digging its teeth into the chitin, shaking its head as if determined to pull his boot clean off. It made no noise other than a soft, squeaky growl, but the splashing of the water beneath its paws was unsettlingly loud and echoed due to the circular tunnel’s acoustics. If this kept up, it was only a matter of time before the killer would notice him. 

“Get off!” Fahjoth hissed, frantically shaking his foot. “Get off! Get off, you little c—!”

Unfortunately, the rat refused to budge. It was dragged along in the wake of Fahjoth’s mild kicks, which gradually grew more and more vigorous as he fought to free his foot of the rat’s vice-like grip. Leaning on the wall for balance, he raised his foot up off the ground, now aggressively kicking at the air when all prior attempts at gently shaking the rat off failed. The situation would have been comical had Fahjoth not been so painfully conscious of the murderer sitting barely 20 yards away from where he stood. 

At last, after what felt like hours, the rat let go. However, the momentum given to it by Fahjoth’s kicking motion caused it to gracefully soar away as it was flung off his foot and land with a tremendous splash in the deep sewer water in front of him. 

Instantly, Fahjoth froze. He pressed himself back against the wall, his breathing fast and laboured as he strained his ears for any sign of movement. Apart from the splashing of the rat as it swam away, apparently done with terrorising Fahjoth for the time being, all was silent. Then, as he dared to peek around the corner to evaluate the situation, a pair of red eyes stared into his own as he made direct eye contact with the Dunmer. 

Her reaction was instant. She leapt up from her seat, dagger in hand, and stormed the length of the tunnel towards him, already screaming abuse and profanities in his direction. Kicking hard off the ground, Fahjoth threw himself into motion, and with the Dunmer hurtling closer his options for where to go were limited. A brown and grey blur in his peripheral as he passed indicated that the Dunmer was giving chase, but with the advantage of having longer legs, Fahjoth half-sprinted and half-leapt over a nearby bridge spanning the sewer water before pelting down to the tunnel’s end. Whirling around once he came to a stop, the Dunmer was mere seconds behind him, so Fahjoth drew his sword and stood fast. 

Wielding a dagger which seemed to emanate a sickly red glow, his opponent lunged, landing a glancing blow against Fahjoth’s armour as he leapt back. But she was much faster than he had anticipated. He stumbled back and threw himself from side to side to avoid the Dunmer’s aggressive strategy of repeated jabs and slashes, breaking into a sweat and feeling his flanks ache with every shallow pant. One thrust of the dagger slid between the gap in the chitin protecting his arm, slicing through the sleeve and nicking the skin beneath. 

With a gasp, Fahjoth flung himself backwards. There was a dull thud as his heel collided with something on the ground and his balance was completely thrown off. 

His stomach lurched as he began a sharp descent, hitting the ground with a painful bump. The scraping and groans of the crates he fell against rang in his ears as the Dunmer was suddenly filling his vision, dagger poised ready to plunge into his throat. 

With his sword arm raised in a vague attempt to defend himself, Fahjoth reached to the side, grasping at nothingness in a frantic search for something, anything, that could— 

The cold sliminess of damp wood brushed against his fingertips. He fastened his grip, braced himself and flung the broken chunk at his assailant with as much force as he could muster. 

The jagged lump of wood, a deadly weapon in its own right in the right circumstances, struck the Dunmer square in the face. She staggered back with a howl of pain, clutching her eye while blood seeped from a fresh injury above her brow. With adrenaline coursing through him, Fahjoth sprung to his feet, clutching the hilt of his sword with fingers now damp from his own blood. 

The Dunmer lifted her gaze to Fahjoth again, her uninjured eye blazing with a chilling hatred, but before she could make another move Fahjoth had sprung. He rushed forward and thrust his sword into the Dunmer’s midriff, the tip of the blade piercing the thin, aged leather of her armour with surprising ease. Then he continued pushing forward, until his sword had been buried up to its hilt into her stomach and protruded out from her navel. 

The Dunmer froze, paralysed by the deadly blow, and Fahjoth relinquished his weapon and backed off, unable to do anything else but stare as she staggered to the side and fell. A sharp clang announced her collision to the ground as the sword’s blade hit the ground first, but once her momentum stopped and she lay still, total silence fell upon them. 

Silence, apart from the sound of Fahjoth’s ragged breathing. 

As he stared down at the lifeless Dunmer on the ground before him, Fahjoth only became conscious of how badly his legs were shaking when he tried to take a step forward and his knees almost buckled beneath his weight. Only one thought circled in his mind, over and over, as he silently watched the blood starting to ooze out from beneath her body. 

He had done this.

Someone was dead because of him. 

The more logical part of his brain insisted that if he hadn’t, it would have been him lying there in a pool of his own blood instead. But that didn’t make him feel much better about the fact that he had just taken someone’s life. 

There was a part of him that didn’t even want to approach the body to retrieve his shortsword, but at the end of the day, he had paid good money for that. And it wasn’t as if he had a backup. So with a trembling hand he grasped the hilt, slowly prising the sword out of the Dunmer’s body and wincing at the sickening sound of the blade gliding against flesh, squelching and wet. He cleaned the metal as best he could using linen from the makeshift bed, then sheathed his weapon and reluctantly searched the camp for evidence to present to Elam Andas. 

He didn’t find much of any substance. The journal the Dunmer had been reading was, of course, impossible for him to read. Quite apart from not finding any sense in the words, it was damp and smudged terribly to the point where it was barely legible. Still, perhaps the Office of the Watch would have better luck; he took it, along with an old rusty key and the Dunmer’s dagger, which left him feeling oddly nauseous and drained after his fingertips came into direct contact with it.

The damp stickiness of blood on his arm and staining his sleeve was impossible to ignore, as was the injury beneath it, so Fahjoth took a moment to attempt to heal it on his own. With the spell he had acquired from the Mages Guild in mind, Fahjoth closed his eyes and furrowed his brows in concentration; he racked every corner of his brain, searching for any spark that could ignite the spell that he could feel hesitating at his fingertips. But in his already worn-out state, the attempts only ended up draining yet more of his energy and left him with a considerable headache. In the end he conceded and admitted defeat, recognising a lost cause when he saw one. 

Then Fahjoth embarked on the long walk back to the Hall of Justice, craving fresh air and a warm bed above all else. It hadn’t quite sunk in yet that he had successfully taken on a serial killer and lived to tell the tale, but there was an odd light-heartedness in his chest as he traipsed back along the paths through Vivec City’s shadowy cantons, feeling somehow more confident than before.

                             ——————————————  

Fahjoth’s triumphant — albeit exhausted and bloodied — return to the Office of the Watch was met with disbelief at first, followed by amazement once he broke the news that the killer had been dealt with. Elam Andas was thrilled and accepted the dagger and journal as evidence without question, perhaps a sign of how desperate he was to believe that this Dunmer was no longer a threat. After expressing his gratitude he sent Fahjoth on his way, with a promise that Ordinators would be sent to clean up the mess and the reward of an enchanted belt to protect him on his travels, which Fahjoth accepted eagerly. Although he was pleased with the response to his daring deed, he was now more than ever looking forward to collapsing into bed after a very, very long day. 

With thoughts of only soft pillows and warm sheets on his mind as he entered the familiarity of the Foreign Quarter, it wasn’t until he came face-to-face with someone approaching the hallway to the cornerclub from the opposite way that he realised he had forgotten something — or rather, someone.

“Ribyna!” Fahjoth exclaimed, recognising his sibling even from a distance. But something was wrong. There was no wave or call of greeting from Ribyna, who walked silently over to him with a pronounced limp in her step.

“Ribyna?”

In the light of the torch that hung from the nearby wall, Fahjoth could see that Ribyna was in a dreadful state. Her armour was scuffed and damaged in places and her hair was a mess, but most worryingly was the copious amount of bloodstains that spattered and smeared her almost from head to foot.

“Ribyna!” Fahjoth gasped, rushing over to meet her and instantly beginning to fuss. “What the hell happened?! Are you okay?!”

“I’m fine,” Ribyna grunted, making a half-hearted attempt to push Fahjoth away.

“You’re covered in blood!”

“It’s fine. It’s not my blood.” Ribyna paused to wince, doubling over slightly and gritting her teeth. “Most of it...” 

Before Fahjoth could question her further, they were interrupted by the rapid approach of an Ordinator, his sword drawn and raised at Ribyna threateningly. 

“Halt!” he barked. “Murderous scum! You violated the law, outlander. Surrender and come with me immediately.”

Fahjoth's mouth fell open with horror. Murderous? Surely there had to be some kind of mistake...

However, Ribyna's silence was not encouraging. Instead of protesting her innocence, she reached into a pocket and tugged out a somewhat bloodstained roll of parchment, which she passed over to the guard without a word. To Fahjoth's astonishment, once he had finished reading it, he nodded and tucked the note away in his own armour.

“All of your papers seem to be in order,” he said, dipping his head to Ribyna. “You are free to go.”

And then he walked away, leaving Fahjoth utterly bemused as he stared at his still very quiet twin. 

“Are you gonna tell me what the hell just happened?” he questioned, and Ribyna huffed. 

"In a sec. Let's get inside first," she muttered, slipping away into the cornerclub without waiting for a response. Fahjoth, left with little choice, followed her in and then led the way to their room. The moment he opened the door, Ribyna pushed past him and dropped down onto the bed with a groan — much to Fahjoth's displeasure, as he had been hoping to do this exact thing first. 

“Well?” he prompted, lowering himself into a nearby chair and slouching back, relishing the chance to take the weight off his sore feet for a while. “What was that guard on about, calling you ‘murderous scum’?” 

It was a moment or two before Ribyna dragged herself upright again and turned her gaze to Fahjoth. 

“I joined the Morag Tong.”

Fahjoth, who had been in the process of removing his boots, froze motionless as he felt his blood run cold. “You what?!” he hissed, once he found his voice again. “You’ve— what?!”

“Yeah.” Ribyna’s tone was level as she stared back at Fahjoth, looking more tired than defensive. “Don’t start, alright? I’m knackered.”

“Don’t st—?!” Fahjoth bolted upright, keeping his voice hushed as best he could but fighting to quash the outrage that burned in his chest. “You’ve gone and joined a murder cult and you’re telling me to not start?!”

“It’s not a murder cult!” Ribyna protested. “It’s perfectly legal!”

“Just because it’s legal, doesn’t mean it’s not a—” Fahjoth stopped mid-rant, rubbing his eyes with exasperation. “Just... Ugh, what have you gone and done that for? Can’t you just do something... normal?! Like... I dunno, go join the Fighters Guild if you really wanna stab things!”

“No.” She slouched down, looking suddenly more tired than ever. “Look, maybe I’m fed up of being treated like the shit on everyone’s shoes, alright? Maybe I just... wanted a bit of respect for once.”

Fahjoth faltered, experiencing a flicker of sympathy for his twin. He knew that feeling all too well. “Beebs, you don’t need to become a murderer to be respected.”

“I was already a murderer,” Ribyna pointed out bluntly. Fahjoth felt a twist in his gut, memories from that horrendous day threatening to resurface in his mind. “At least this way I can get paid for it.” 

Fahjoth paused, struggling to find an argument and fighting to put into words exactly how he felt about Ribyna’s new career choice. Eventually, he heaved a sigh. “But... it can’t be safe. Look, you’re injured! I’m... I’m worried about you, Ribyna.” 

“Well, don’t be. Turns out I’m half-decent at killing people.” Naturally, Ribyna’s answer didn’t reassure Fahjoth in the slightest, but she ploughed on anyway with a change of subject. “Anyway, what about you? What have you been up to?” Now that she was evaluating Fahjoth properly, her eyes soon fell on the bloodstains that still blemished his clothes and armour. “Is that blood?!”

“Yeah... and this time, it is mine. Honestly, you won’t believe the day I’ve had, Beebs,” Fahjoth said, before he began to regale the whole story; meeting Huleeya, learning about the outlander killings, going to the Office of the Watch, venturing into the Underworks... 

By the time he had finished, Ribyna was staring at him with an incredulous look on her face. 

“Hang on,” she started, “you killed someone and you’re having a go at me for joining the Morag Tong? Hypocrite, much!”

“I— but— what?!” Fahjoth spluttered, affronted. “Th-that’s different! I’m not an assassin, I was stopping a serial killer—”

But he promptly shut his mouth once he noticed the wry grin curling at the corners of Ribyna’s lips. 

“I’m only messing,” she chortled, her smirk quickly becoming a proud smile. “Holy shit, that’s amazing, Fahji. Shame they didn’t pay you for it, mind.” 

“I don’t mind,” Fahjoth replied honestly, calming down again. “I’m just glad she can’t hurt anyone else.” He paused, feeling heat rising in his face as he prepared himself to confess to something. “Honestly for a little while, I was worried that the killer was gonna be you.”

Ribyna promptly cocked a brow. “You fucking donkey, why would I go around killing outlanders? I am an outlander!”

“I was just freaking out!” Fahjoth protested. “I was tired, and nervous, and you’d been acting proper shifty, and— well, I obviously wasn’t that far off, was I? Might not’ve been outlanders, but you were planning on killing people after all!”

Ribyna rolled her eyes, busying herself with removing her own armour. “Yeah yeah, alright, you’ve already said your piece. Come on, let’s get cleaned up and get some sleep. I’m absolutely wrecked.”

Though he still had plenty more to say on the matter, Fahjoth agreed, for both their sakes. He was looking forward to crashing just as much as Ribyna was, and once they had finished helping each other tend to their injuries and settled down for the night, Fahjoth was asleep almost as soon as his head had hit the pillows. 

—————————————————————————————

tag list  @boulderfall-cave , @padomaicocean (lmk if you’d like to be added!)

[twokinkybeans]

Love Me ’Til My Life Is Done

Summary:  “I wish you didn’t have to do this for me, Peter…” Tony mumbles staring at the floor. Droplets falling from his silver hair. The strands thin and frail, like the rest of his body. Peter shakes his head.

“No no no, Tony, we’ve been over this. I love you. I chose to be with you and I knew what I got myself into. This-” Peter gestures at the both of them and continues drying off his body, “-is part of that choice. I’ve never regretted it, and I never will.”

-

In which it's the year 2052 and Peter and Tony deal with the new struggles of their age difference and Tony's deteriorating health.

Find it on AO3

Warnings: Old age, dementia, angst, hurt, feelings, medical conditions.

Author’s Note: This work is inspired by a mixture of things, such as my own job and this Tumblr post.  The fic is bittersweet, so please be prepared or leave if you'd rather not read that. I honestly don’t know why I wrote this as I gave myself all the feels too but, ah, here it is! - xx Kim

Peter smiles when he turns off the shower. He takes the large towel from the grab bar behind him and wraps it around Tony’s shoulders, gently rubbing the skin dry. Tony sighs and looks up at the other man, his troubled smile giving away exactly what he’s thinking about. Peter knows how much he hates this. Of course, the intimacy of the situation is nice. But that’s it, really. It’s bittersweet. “I wish you didn’t have to do this for me, Peter…” Tony mumbles staring at the floor. Droplets falling from his silver hair. The strands thin and frail, like the rest of his body. Peter shakes his head. “No no no, Tony, we’ve been over this. I love you. I chose to be with you and I knew what I got myself into. This-” Peter gestures at the both of them and continues drying off his body, “-is part of that choice. I’ve never regretted it, and I never will.” Peter understands where Tony’s coming from. It’s not easy. Nothing about the situation is. Last week, they celebrated Tony’s 82nd birthday. Eighty-two. Tony’s old. Peter isn’t. He’s not the youngest, obviously, but his own 50 years are not even close to catching up with his lover. “I know you and May have been secretly plotting your escape to - what do they call it nowadays - community living? I’m not letting some random strangers take care of either of you.” Peter’s done volunteer work in elderly care a few years prior to Tony’s deteriorating health, and they were so thoroughly understaffed that no one got the attention and care they needed. Peter will not do that to them unless absolutely necessary for whatever reason. “You’re not a nurse though, Peter.” “And you’re not my patient, Tony. You’re my fucking husband. You wish I was a nurse. I’d be the sexiest one you’ve ever seen.” Tony snorts at that and shakes his head. “You’ll never change.” “Nope, now come here,” Peter chuckles as he rips the small package and presses the fentanyl patch onto the man’s shoulder blade, “-look? All done, Sir. Now let me, ‘nurse Peter’, make you pancakes for breakfast.” “Oh, mh- That sounds lovely. Maybe I don’t want to move out after all.” “That’s what I thought.” Peter presses a soft kiss on the man’s cheek and ruffles Tony’s hair. Let’s get you dressed first.”

Ten minutes later, they find themselves in the kitchen. Tony walks over to the chair and grunts as he lowers himself onto it. Aunt May’s already there, reading a book. She puts it down and turns her wheelchair around, beckoning Peter to lean in for a kiss on her cheek. He smiles and does so, squeezing her shoulder as he stands back up.  “Morning, Pete, did he put up a fuss in the shower this morning, took you long enough.” “You know I like making it hard on him,” Tony jokes, making Peter chuckle. These two... May has lived with them for two years now. The woman, despite her age, still as bright and quirky as she’s always been. She’s never been able to regain the required strength needed to walk after the infection that came with her total hip replacement. She didn’t have the money to buy or rent a wheelchair accessible apartment, so Peter and Tony decided she could just come live with them. Not soon after, Tony had a series of transient ischemic attacks. Neither of those ever left too much damage, but it was clear that aside from the desensitization in his left arm, his brain had taken a hit due to the reoccurrence of the attacks too. A near eight months after his first TIA, the doctors diagnosed him with the first stage of vascular dementia. The last TIA occurred more than three months ago and he seemed stable now, but Peter knew it could change at any given moment and that scared him sometimes. It’s tough. The entire situation is. But at the same time, he feels so blessed that he had the time and means to help them. That he has people he cares for so deeply. Peter’s determined to make the most out of every single second they’ve got left.

“Peter, do you think we could eat pancakes for breakfast?” Peter’s heart clenches when the man speaks those words, but he musters a bright smile onto his face. He sees May glance between them, and he knows she knows this was yet another one of - as they’ve started to call it - Tony’s glitches. She keeps her mouth closed, for now, and Peter is glad. Tony is still very much in denial about his illness and talking about it didn’t make it any better so far.  “That’s a great idea, Tones! Let me see if we have the ingredients we need.” 

-

Another.

Tony had another TIA yesterday. Peter’s lips are quivering as he stares at his husband, the sleeping man so small and vulnerable in their double bed. He trails his fingers past the man’s upper arm and sighs, lowering his head. The doctor visited a few hours earlier, checking up on him. He’d sighed. “You know the drill, Mr. Parker. We have to be patient and see which functions come surging back. I’ve prescribed him the same meds as usual.”

Wait and see.

Wait and see.

Peter hates to wait and see. He can’t stand not knowing how much of Tony he’s lost this time. Which memories have been wiped from the man’s existence. Would he still be able to walk? Write? Speak? He knew that TIA’s, as opposed to having an actual stroke, usually came with small losses. One could never be sure though. “Peter, can I come in?” Peter looks up to see Aunt May in the doorway and he nods slightly. The squeaking of her wheelchair familiar and grounding as she rolls towards him.  “I hate this,” Peter croaks and he can no longer keep the stinging in his eyes at bay. His vision becomes blurry when his tears flow freely. “I fucking hate this. I know, I know you’re both going to die one day. And- morbid as it sounds that’s okay. But I can’t lose him while he’s still here, May… I can’t… I can’t…”  “I know, Peter…” May rests a hand on his shoulder and leans in as far as possible. Peter does the same, hugging her carefully and sobs into her embrace. He can deal with Tony forgetting the day of the week. He can deal with Tony mixing up memories. He can deal with Tony wondering where exactly they are.

He’s not sure if he can deal with more losses. But he has to. He has to and he loves Tony. Even if Tony won’t be there, he’s going to love and cherish him. As promised all those years ago. As a good husband should. Because he doesn’t want to leave the man all by himself. He knows, knows that even if a day would come where Tony doesn’t remember his face, he can still provide him with warmth, a gentle touch. He will do exactly that for as long as it takes.

“He’s strong, Peter. We both know that. Don’t give up hope just yet.”

- 

“Jarvis?” Tony mumbles and he squints his eyes at the piece of paper in front of him. A gentle and somewhat familiar female voice answers him. “Yes, boss?”  “Where is Peter? Do you know?” Tony folds the paper carefully and looks for the envelope he fetched himself earlier. He sighs as he can’t find it on his desk and shakes his head. It’s okay, he tells himself. It’s okay. He knows his brain isn’t cooperating but getting angry won’t help him in this situation. He wants to get angry, he does, but he forces it down. There will be a time where he won’t be able to calm himself so he wants to do it now. As long as he’s still aware of his own actions. He stands up from the chair and walks over towards the large closet on the other side of the bedroom to get a new envelope. “In the living room, boss. Watching that old movie from 2019 that May loves so much.” Tony snorts and shakes his head. May sure loves old movies. “Frozen?” “Yes, the second one,” the AI says. Tony smiles, putting the note in the envelope and licking the sticky stripe to seal it. May watches that movie at least twice a year. Every single song, every bit of dialogue stuck in his head forever. No matter how forgetful he’ll get, those images will never escape his mind.

Tony takes a deep breath and carefully slips the envelope under Peter’s pillow to find later. He should go and join Peter and May for the movie. As much as he thinks it’s ridiculous, he’s grown to love it over the years. He readjusts the arm support strap around his wrist to keep it from cutting off his blood supply and stops in his tracks. Did he put the envelope under Peter’s pillow? He turns around and sighs in relief when he sees the edge off the paper sticking from underneath it. Good. He did what he had to do. He turns to the door again and sets off towards the living area.

-

Peter sighs as he crawls underneath the blankets. He helped Tony get to bed earlier, but then as he’d wanted to get in himself, May had called for him to help her go to the bathroom. He did, she was in bed again, and now he was too. Finally. He readjusts his pillow, shifting it closer towards the middle so he can spoon Tony when his hands brush past something. He frowns and reaches out for it. It’s an envelope. He turns it, but both sides are white and empty. “Open it,” Tony breathes quietly. Peter looks at him for a moment, his heart pounding in his chest.  “Is it from you?” “Yes.” Peter takes a deep breath at the answer and carefully tears the envelope open and pulls out the small note. His fingers are near shaking with anticipation when he unfolds it. It’s a handwritten note. Before he reads it, Tony speaks again. “I know it’s not easy, Peter. For either of us, but- I’m forever grateful that you chose to be my husband and…” Tony’s eyes fill with tears. “I want us to enjoy what we have while we still can. I- I found this poem online and I know it isn’t fully accurate yet, but- Dammit. I love you, Peter. I love you, and you’re the best thing that’s happened to me.” “Tony, I-” “Read it first, please. Just read it.”

“Do not ask me to remember” by Owen Darnell Do not ask me to remember, Don’t try to make me understand, Let me rest and know you’re with me, Kiss my cheek and hold my hand.

I’m confused beyond your concept, I am sad and sick and lost. All I know is that I need you To be with me at all cost.

Do not lose your patience with me, Do not scold or curse or cry. I can’t help the way I’m acting, Can’t be different though I try.

Just remember that I need you, That the best of me is gone, Please don’t fail to stand beside me, Love me ’til my life is done.

Peter’s sobbing before he even finishes reading it and once he reaches the end, he rolls over to bury his face against Tony’s chest.  “I will. I will, Tony. I’ll love you ‘til the end and beyond.” “I don’t want to not remember you, Peter. I know my brain is derailing and I sure fucking hope that day never comes. But even then- knowing that you will love me, it’s... It’s more than I could ask for and all I know I need.” “Always. Tones. Always.”