#is it doing anything different from past movies

[creamflix]

cw: mentions of sex & reader menstruating, nothing detailed or explicit [for nsfw].

read part one here

three years.

three whole years of loving each other in your own chaotic way.

but when the anniversary actually rolled around, you felt like someone had hit the reset button on your social skills. standing in the kitchen that morning, you blurted out, “it’s our anniversary. we’ve been together for a long time,” as if that wasn’t blatantly obvious.

sukuna blinked at you from where he was tying his tie, raising an eyebrow like he couldn’t believe what just came out of your mouth.

“no shit,” he deadpanned, though his lips twitched like he was holding back a smirk.

you huffed, crossing your arms. “i’m just saying. it’s... a big deal, y’know?”

“yeah, yeah,” he muttered, brushing past you to grab his keys, but you caught the way his gaze lingered for a moment longer than usual.

truthfully, neither of you were handling it well. anniversaries weren’t exactly your forte. it wasn’t like you didn’t say “i love you” to each other, but those words carried weight between the two of you — too much to just toss around casually.

and now, faced with the unspoken expectation to do something, both of you were stumbling like teenagers on a first date.

sukuna spent the entire morning at work distracted, fidgeting with his pen and snapping at his coworkers more than usual.

am i supposed to plan something? he thought. i was the one who proposed, does that mean it’s my job? the pressure was getting to him.

finally, he decided to keep it simple: your favorite takeout from university, a nostalgic callback to the start of everything.

meanwhile, you spent your day spiraling in a completely different direction. romantic gestures weren’t exactly your specialty, but the thought of doing nothing felt worse.

so, you left work early and dove into something utterly out of character — a full-on romantic dinner, complete with candles, music, and a dish you’d only ever made once before.

by the time the evening rolled around, both of you were a mess. sukuna trudged through the door first, looking disheveled in his wrinkled work clothes, seven plastic bags in hand, each one stuffed with takeout containers. he didn’t even bother taking off his shoes before stepping into the living room.

“yo, i got —” he started, but froze mid-sentence when he saw you.

you were standing by the dining table, decked out in an outfit that screamed special occasion, with your hair done and everything. the table was set like something out of a movie: a full spread of homemade dishes, soft lighting from the candles, and an awkward tension hanging in the air because, honestly, what the hell were the two of you doing?

“...what the fuck,” sukuna finally said, his voice soft with something you couldn’t quite place.

you shrugged, suddenly feeling self-conscious. “i figured... i’d try something different.”

he stared at you for a beat, then down at the bags in his hands, then back at you. “you made all this?”

“yeah.” you shifted on your feet. “thought it’d be nice. but uh, if you don’t wanna eat it, we can always —”

“shut up,” he cut you off, a grin breaking across his face. “you’re insane, you know that?”

“takes one to know one,” you shot back, but your cheeks were burning.

he dropped the bags unceremoniously on the counter and crossed the room in a few quick strides. before you could say anything else, his arms were around you, pulling you into a hug that was somehow both firm and gentle.

“you’re ridiculous,” he mumbled against your hair. “but you’re my ridiculous.”

you rolled your eyes but melted into his embrace. “yeah, yeah. happy anniversary, jerk.”

he laughed, low and genuine, and for a moment, the awkwardness faded. the food didn’t matter. the plans didn’t matter. just being here, in this little apartment you called home, with him holding you like the world didn’t exist outside these walls — that was enough.

even after three years together, the idea of using the typical, sugary nicknames made you both cringe harder than nails on a chalkboard. no “babe,” no “sweetheart,” no “love.” for some reason, it just didn’t fit.

instead, you’d toss out things like “dude,” “bro,” or, on particularly annoying days, “boy,” just to get under his skin. the way sukuna’s eye would twitch every time you called him that? priceless.

but sukuna wasn’t innocent, either. his repertoire of names for you was a mix of creative insults and borderline threats, delivered with just enough affection to remind you that he didn’t actually mean them.

“woman,” “brat,” “shit for brains” — those were the classics. and when he was in an especially foul mood? let’s just say the creativity really started flowing.

the funniest part? even in public, neither of you switched it up. at restaurants, when a waiter would ask for your order, you’d say, “he’ll have the steak,” and sukuna would fire back with, “she’ll take the fish,” like it was the most natural thing in the world.

no “my love” or “my darling.” just “he” and “she,” like a couple of reluctant coworkers at a team lunch.

the one time you tried something different, it didn’t end well.

“what’ll it be, babe?” you’d asked one night, trying to suppress a grin as you glanced at him over the menu.

sukuna lowered his menu just enough to shoot you a look so disgusted you swore you could taste lemons in the air. “what the hell did you just call me?”

“babe,” you repeated, forcing the word out like it physically pained you.

he grimaced, his nose wrinkling. “don’t ever do that again.”

you’d burst out laughing, and from that moment on, the unwritten rule was solidified: no “cute” nicknames. not unless you wanted to ruin the meal for both of you.

and yet, despite all of that, there were moments when the truth slipped through. when you were out with friends, you’d proudly call him “my man,” as if daring anyone to challenge the claim.

and sukuna wasn’t any better — he’d talk about you to his buddies like you were the most important person in the world, casually dropping “my lady” into conversations like it was nothing.

but back home? it was business as usual. “yo, dude,” you’d yell from the kitchen. “did you put the laundry in the dryer?”

“hell nah, woman,” he’d yell back. “do it yourself.”

sure, it wasn’t the most conventional display of affection, but it was yours. no sickly sweet terms of endearment, no over-the-top romantic gestures — just you and sukuna, trading insults and sharing a love that, in its own weird way, felt perfect. would you trade it?

absolutely not.

you and sukuna had never been the type to ooze affection. no heartfelt “good lucks” or mushy “come home soon” texts.

instead, your love language was passive-aggressive threats with just enough bite to keep things interesting.

“don’t fuck it up,” he’d said before your job interview, leaning casually against the counter with a smirk that hid the way his eyes lingered on you a second longer than usual.

“look who’s talking,” you shot back, adjusting your jacket in the mirror. “aren’t you the guy who choked on his coffee before his last one?”

“watch it, brat,” he muttered, grabbing his keys, but his lips twitched.

underneath the snark, though, there was always something unspoken. a silent, shared understanding that you were rooting for each other, even if neither of you would ever outright say it. and during that waiting period — the nerve-wracking limbo between interviews and callbacks — the usual jabs quieted.

it wasn’t a truce, exactly, but you both found yourself going easier on each other. sukuna would make sure you had coffee in the mornings, leaving it on the counter without a word. and you’d restock his energy drinks without him asking, slipping them into the fridge while he wasn’t looking.

when the calls finally came, first for you and then for him, the celebration was as understated as your relationship. no grand hugs or squeals of excitement — just a knowing look exchanged from across the room, a rare, genuine smile curving both your lips.

“guess you didn’t screw it up,” he teased as you set your phone down, but his voice was softer than usual, the edges rounded out by pride.

“guess you didn’t either,” you replied, tossing the comment back at him with a grin.

and maybe — just maybe — there was a fleeting kiss in the mix. something quick and almost shy, as if lingering too long might make the moment too heavy.

“don’t think this means you’re off the hook,” he muttered afterward, trying to play it cool, though his hand rested on your waist a beat longer than necessary.

“wouldn’t dream of it,” you quipped, leaning back just enough to meet his gaze.

this was just the start, the first step in what would be your new life together. and even if it wasn’t wrapped up in the typical trappings of romance, it felt right. because with sukuna, love was never about the obvious.

it was in the things left unsaid, the quiet gestures, and the stubborn refusal to admit just how much you cared — though, deep down, you both knew the truth.

you still remembered the first time sukuna kissed you.

it wasn’t some grand romantic setup or a scene out of a cheesy romance flick — it was just… sukuna. blunt, stubborn, and perfectly him.

it was after graduation, a so-called “first date,” though neither of you called it that. he had taken you to the same drive-in you’d always gone to during halloween, the one with the faded screen and popcorn that tasted more like cardboard than butter.

but this time, they weren’t showing the usual campy horror flicks you two loved to make fun of. no, this time it was la la land.

you’d raised an eyebrow when he mentioned it. “really? la la land?”

“what? you’re too good for musicals now?” he shot back, pulling into the lot like he wasn’t questioning himself at all. but you caught the way his grip on the steering wheel tightened just a bit, like he was bracing for you to laugh at him.

“no, just didn’t know you had a thing for jazz hands,” you teased, grinning when his scowl deepened.

the movie started, but naturally, the two of you barely made it through the first twenty minutes without bickering. the popcorn bag was snatched back and forth between you, each accusing the other of hogging all the caramel-coated pieces.

“you’re eating all the good ones!” you snapped, clutching the bag protectively.

“you’re imagining shit, woman,” sukuna retorted, leaning over to yank it back.

in the heat of the squabble, with your faces inches apart and insults ready to fly, he kissed you. just leaned in and pressed his lips to yours, all sharp and sudden, like he had decided there was no other way to shut you up.

you froze, your brain short-circuiting for half a second, before he pulled away with a smirk that made your blood boil and your heart race all at once.

“what the hell was that?” you demanded, staring at him.

“you were being annoying,” he said, like that was the most logical explanation in the world. but his smug expression faltered just a little when you glared at him, lips parted like you were about to really let him have it.

“you don’t just kiss someone and then pull away like that, you asshole,” you huffed. and before he could reply, you grabbed him by the collar and kissed him back, pouring every bit of your irritation — and maybe a little something else — into it.

the second kiss was different. softer, slower, and entirely mutual. neither of you pulled back this time, and when you finally did, both of you were slightly breathless.

“still annoying,” he muttered, though the corner of his mouth twitched like he was trying not to smile.

“still an asshole,” you shot back, crossing your arms, though your cheeks burned so hot you were glad for the darkness of the car.

after that, there wasn’t much attention paid to the movie. there was a lot more kissing, though, a lot more bantering between each one. and while neither of you would ever admit it, kissing him made you feel like a stupid, giddy teenager. like you wanted to kick your feet in the air and giggle, even if the thought made you cringe internally.

it was ridiculous, it was messy, and it was entirely the two of you. just the way you liked it.

your relationship with sukuna had always been a clash of opposites.

back in your college days, he was infamous for his revolving door of women — never the same face twice, always someone new on his arm. sukuna, the loud, reckless heartthrob who could charm his way into anyone’s bed.

and then there was you: exclusive, reserved, someone who didn’t let just anyone close enough to even try. while sukuna’s name was tossed around in gossip, yours carried a quiet weight, a mix of intrigue and admiration.

it wasn’t that you were some saint — far from it. you weren’t a stranger to sex, but you didn’t hand it out like candy at a parade. your friends teased you about your “dry spells,” but you’d always brushed it off. you had standards, that was all.

meanwhile, sukuna? standards weren’t exactly his thing, or so it seemed.

so, when the two of you somehow transitioned from bickering frenemies to a full-fledged couple, there was an unspoken tension between your histories. you knew who he was, what he’d done, and he knew exactly how tightly you held your walls up. still, you worked together, two stubborn halves of something that somehow clicked.

until one night, when things heated up unexpectedly.

it started innocent enough — if “innocent” was a word that could ever describe sukuna. a clumsy makeout session in his dimly lit apartment, his hands tangled in your hair, your breath mingling with his as he pressed you against the couch. it wasn’t your first kiss, far from it, but this one was different. there was a weight to it, a hunger neither of you had acknowledged until now.

“you’re terrible at this,” you muttered against his lips, though your shaky breath betrayed you.

“yeah?” he shot back, his voice low, teasing. “seems like you’re still here, so what does that say about you?”

you rolled your eyes, but before you could quip back, he kissed you again, harder this time. his hands moved to your waist, fingers tracing the curve of your hips, pulling you closer until there was no space left between you.

it escalated quickly, too quickly. his mouth moved to your neck, and you felt the scrape of his teeth against your skin. a shiver ran through you, your hands gripping his shirt to ground yourself. this was sukuna — your sukuna — and yet, this was a side of him you hadn’t faced before.

you froze slightly when his hands wandered lower, testing the waters. for a split second, you weren’t sure what to do.

your mind raced with contradictions: the part of you that wanted to pull him closer, to let yourself get lost in him, and the other part that wanted to smack his hand away and call him out for moving too fast.

“seriously?” you blurted, breaking the kiss and glaring at him. “do you ever not act like a horndog?”

he smirked, cocky as ever, though his hands eased up. “what? you didn’t seem to mind a second ago.”

“maybe because i was too distracted by your terrible kissing technique,” you shot back, though the heat in your cheeks betrayed you.

“you’re full of shit,” he said, leaning back with an exaggerated groan. but there was something softer in his gaze, a flicker of hesitation that wasn’t usually there.

“look, if you’re not into it, just say so. i’m not gonna —”

“shut up, sukuna,” you interrupted, grabbing the collar of his shirt and pulling him back down. your lips crashed against his, and this time, there was no hesitation.

it was messy, passionate, a clash of teeth and tongues that left you both breathless. every time you thought you’d had enough, he’d kiss you in a way that made your head spin, and you’d find yourself pulling him closer all over again.

maybe you’d slap him later for being an overconfident ass, but for now? for now, you let yourself get lost in him, in the way he made you feel like you were the only person in the world he’d ever want. and, as much as you hated to admit it, you didn’t regret a second of it.

sex with sukuna was its own breed of unique — a stark contrast to the wild stories he carried in his history. where you once expected a whirlwind of dominance and filthy words, what you got was something raw and unexpectedly tender, the kind of connection that made your chest ache in the best way. it wasn’t the slow, candlelit romance people wrote songs about, and it wasn’t some grand kink-fueled adventure. it was quiet, comfortable, and somehow, so deeply you two.

sukuna had his reputation, sure. tattoos, a sharp tongue, and an aura that practically screamed i don’t care about your feelings. in his youth, you imagined he’d been the kind of guy who thrived on power plays in the bedroom, leaving women weak-kneed and breathless for all the wrong reasons. hell, he probably relished in it, back in the day.

but that wasn’t what you got.

instead, he was gruff, but not in the way you’d expect. it was the kind of gruffness that came with holding back, with trying to temper himself into someone who could make you feel safe and seen. when he leaned over you, his usual arrogance was softened by something quieter, something he didn’t say out loud but you could feel in the way his hands traced over your skin.

“this okay?” he’d grumble, his voice low, trying to sound nonchalant, but you caught the way his eyes searched your face for any hesitation.

you’d nod, a little too bashful to form words, and he’d pause, eyebrows raising just slightly. “i asked if it was fine, not if you could sit there like a scared rabbit.”

“sukuna,” you’d groan, slapping his shoulder. but your face would heat up anyway, and he’d smirk like the cocky ass he was, though his hands stayed steady, patient.

if you didn’t answer quickly enough, he’d ask again, his actions slowing to a near halt. “hey,” he’d say, leaning down just enough so his lips brushed your ear, “you gonna tell me, or do I have to stop?”

“don’t stop,” you’d finally mutter, voice barely above a whisper, and he’d let out the most obnoxious chuckle, something halfway between pride and amusement.

“thought so,” he’d say smugly, resuming his movements — but gentler than his tone suggested, always so much gentler. it wasn’t about control or ego, though you knew he liked to push you just enough to make you squirm. no, it was about making sure you were there with him every step of the way.

it was new, this side of him that catered to you, the way he’d catch your gaze when he thought you were feeling shy or uncertain. sometimes, you wanted to throttle him for the way he’d tease you, like it was a sport. other times, you wanted to melt into him for the way his hands would guide you, steady and secure, like he had all the time in the world for you and no one else.

but your favorite part? it was always the aftercare.

where sukuna usually thrived on chaos and crudeness, after sex, he was different. softer, quieter, almost dazed. he’d hold you like he was afraid you’d slip away, his arms wrapped around you a little tighter than usual.

“you good?” he’d ask, his voice gruff but quiet.

you’d nod, and he’d huff, pressing his chin to your head. “drink some water,” he’d grumble, even as he was already reaching for the glass on the nightstand.

he wouldn’t joke as much, at least not in the way that made you want to kick him. instead, he’d run his fingers absentmindedly through your hair, muttering about how you’d better not go passing out on him. he’d press lazy, almost featherlight kisses to your temple, your cheek, anywhere he could reach without moving too much.

and if you curled closer to him, burying your face in his chest, he wouldn’t say anything. he’d just hold you tighter, his fingers tracing slow patterns on your back, grounding both of you in the moment.

sometimes, you’d laugh to yourself, thinking about how this man — this loud, sharp-edged, unapologetically rough man — had turned into a vanilla sap just for you. and other times, you’d bite your lip and blush at the thought that he was yours. completely and utterly yours.

you’d never admit it out loud, but the way he took care of you? the way he toned down all the bravado and just was with you? it made you love him more than words could ever say.

the first real fight wasn’t the playful sparring you and sukuna usually indulged in. it wasn’t the sarcastic quips or half-serious insults that usually left both of you laughing by the end. this time, it was different.

the argument started small, something inconsequential, but quickly spiraled into a storm of raised voices and sharp words. sukuna’s tone was harsh, and your stubbornness was just as sharp. you were used to challenging each other, but this felt heavier, like neither of you was willing to back down.

“you’re not even listening to me!” you snapped, your voice breaking in frustration.

“yeah? and you’re so damn perfect at communicating?” sukuna shot back, his words biting.

the tension was suffocating, the air in your shared apartment thick with unresolved emotions.

and then it happened — he grabbed his jacket, slammed the door, and left.

the sound of the door shutting echoed in your ears, and you froze, your chest tight. sukuna didn’t just leave. not like this.

he left home.

it wasn’t just an apartment. it was the place where you built something together, where you shared quiet mornings and loud, chaotic evenings. it was the place that held laughter, tears, and everything in between.

and now it felt unbearably empty.

you wanted to scream, to throw something, to lash out at the ache in your chest. but you knew that chasing him down with your usual fire would only pour gasoline on the flames. so you swallowed your pride, slipped on your fuzzy slippers, and bolted out the door.

you spotted him a few blocks down, his tall figure unmistakable even under the dim streetlights. his pace was fast, his hands shoved deep into his pockets. he looked pissed, but there was something about the way his shoulders hunched slightly that made your heart clench.

“sukuna!” you called, your voice louder than you intended.

he didn’t stop.

“dammit, will you stop walking for one second?” you yelled again, jogging to catch up to him.

when he finally turned around, his expression was a mixture of anger and surprise. “what the hell are you doing?” he asked, eyes narrowing. “it’s late.”

“yeah, and whose fault is that?” you shot back, before taking a deep breath. no, not this time. no more yelling.

“look,” you started, your voice softer now, though your chest was still heaving from the sprint.

“i’m sorry. i mean it. not the sarcastic, biting kind of sorry. a real one. i shouldn’t have — ” you paused, struggling to find the right words. “i shouldn’t have made it about winning. i was wrong.”

sukuna stared at you, his expression unreadable for a moment. the silence stretched, and you felt the sting of tears prick at your eyes.

“...dammit,” he muttered, his shoulders dropping. “i was a dick too.”

you blinked, surprised. sukuna rarely apologized, and when he did, it was never straightforward.

“yeah, you were,” you replied, a small, tentative smile creeping onto your face.

he let out a low chuckle, shaking his head. “you don’t make this easy, you know that?”

“neither do you,” you shot back, stepping closer.

he sighed, his hands leaving his pockets to pull you into a hug that was as awkward as it was comforting. “you’re lucky i didn’t get too far,” he grumbled into your hair.

“you’re lucky i chased after you,” you countered, though you clung to him just as tightly.

and just like that, the tension broke. it wasn’t perfect — there were still things to talk about, wounds to mend — but in that moment, wrapped in each other’s arms on a dimly lit street, you both knew this was home.

sukuna would never say it outright — hell, he’d rather swallow nails than admit it — but he had your back when it came to that time of the month.

he tracked your cycle like a tactical mission, not because he was obsessed with you or anything (his words), but because it was easier to prepare than to deal with the aftermath of being caught off guard.

“what, you think i like listening to you whine about not having your stupid chocolate?” he’d grumble, dumping a bag of your favorite snacks onto the counter with an air of exaggerated suffering. but there was no mistaking the care behind the gesture, no matter how much he tried to play it off.

medicines? stocked. pads and tampons? stocked. heating pads? ready to go. hell, he even had a backup stash of painkillers tucked into his drawer at work in case you ran out at home.

he wasn’t perfect, of course. sukuna had zero patience when you were in one of your mood swings, snapping at him for breathing too loudly or sitting “wrong.” but he’d weather it, rolling his eyes and muttering under his breath.

“you done yelling at me, or you wanna go another round?” he’d ask, arms crossed, leaning against the doorframe.

but the moment you started crying — whether it was over a sad commercial or pure frustration — his entire demeanor shifted.

“hey, hey, cut that out,” he’d say, pulling you into his chest despite his grumbling. “you’re not allowed to cry over dumb shit while i’m around, alright? i’ll give you something real to cry about.”

when you were touch-starved, he’d let you cling to him, even if it meant sitting through a three-hour movie you’d already watched ten times. when you were touch-repulsed, he’d keep his distance but stay close enough to hand you water or make sure you were comfortable.

and when you were too tired to shower, he’d step in without hesitation, grumbling all the while. “can’t believe i’m doing this,” he’d mutter as he adjusted the water temperature and gently washed your hair. “you owe me a massage or something after this.”

he’d change the bedsheets without complaint, tossing you one of his oversized shirts afterward. “don’t stretch it out, or i’ll kick your ass,” he’d say, but you both knew he didn’t mean it. he even kept a corner of his closet stocked with clothes he didn’t mind you ruining — shirts and sweatpants that were practically yours at this point, though he’d never admit it.

“don’t get used to this,” he’d say, watching as you shuffled into the living room in his clothes, burritoed in a blanket. but the way his gaze softened as you curled up on the couch, finally comfortable, betrayed him.

for all his rough edges, sukuna handled you with a quiet kind of love — grumbling, sarcastic, but steady. he might call it “dealing with your bullshit,” but deep down, you both knew better.

it wasn’t a night you’d easily forget — not because of the celebration itself, but because of what came out of your mouth when you were deep into a rum-induced haze.

the bar was alive with the thrum of music and the clang of glasses, laughter and shouting merging into a chaotic symphony that somehow suited you and sukuna. the two of you had ridden in on bikes, looking like a mismatched pair of rebels — him towering, tatted, and menacing, and you just as fierce but smaller, less overtly intimidating.

"you know," sukuna drawled, leaning against the bar with a lazy grin that had been charming women for years, “if you weren’t already mine, i’d be trying to pick you up right now.”

you rolled your eyes, though your own grin betrayed how much you enjoyed the rare moment of his playful charm. “you’re an idiot,” you shot back, taking another shot and wincing as it burned down your throat.

but then, in the lull between his next teasing remark, you blurted it out. “i love you.”

the words landed like a hammer.

sukuna froze, the smirk slipping from his face. the rowdy atmosphere of the bar seemed to fade into static as he stared at you, his crimson eyes narrowing slightly, as if he was trying to gauge whether or not he’d heard you correctly.

"what?" he asked, voice lower than usual, his usual bravado stripped away.

you blinked at him, too tipsy to care about the weight of what you just said. “i love you, stupid. don’t make me say it again.”

and just like that, it was as if someone had pulled the rug out from under him. sukuna, the guy who had once been a whirlwind of hookups and no-strings-attached chaos, was sober in an instant. not because he didn’t like what he heard — no, it was the opposite. it was because those words had been lodged somewhere deep inside him, waiting for the right moment to claw their way out, even if he refused to admit it to himself.

he didn’t say anything right away. instead, he paid the tab, his movements oddly methodical, and threw his leather jacket over your shoulders.

“c’mon,” he muttered, voice gruff as he guided you to the door.

“what’s the rush?” you slurred, stumbling slightly as he helped you onto the bike.

“the rush is you’re drunk and saying shit you don’t mean,” he snapped, though his tone lacked its usual bite.

you didn’t protest after that, leaning into him as he drove the two of you home. by the time you reached the apartment, he was practically hauling you inside, grumbling about how you were a lightweight.

as he set you down on the couch and pulled a blanket over you, the words escaped him, unbidden and softer than he’d have liked.

“i love you too, idiot.”

he thought you were out cold, your breathing slow and even. but the faintest smile tugged at your lips, and a quiet mumble escaped you:

“heard that.”

he froze, a flush creeping up his neck. “shut up and go to sleep,” he barked, but the gentleness with which he tucked you in betrayed him.

you didn’t say anything else, and neither did he, but the air between you felt lighter, warmer. it wasn’t perfect or grand, but it was yours — messy, stubborn, and just enough.

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[yeonmuse]

MINI SERIES | YANG JUNGWON

CAN YOU HEAR MY HEART?

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 : Jungwon falls for an antisocial girl with a passion for music and a love for the stars.

GENRE, fluff, slow burn , smau

( 𝐁𝐚𝐞’𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬 ) : I honestly have no idea where this came from I just thought of anti social Jungwon and Anti social reader coming together and this is where it got me

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Who is she?

Jungwon spent years perfecting his craft, spent years further building his experience and techniques with his cinematography skills. Since the age of nine he had always found delight in having held a camera in his hands, by the age of 16 he experienced his first movie that opened his eyes into the world that was cinematography girl interrupted, though the movie itself was gruesome and somber it was one which he favored for its overbearing cinematography, the color grading and timing of every scene pulled the audience in and forced them to feel everything that the protagonist herself had experienced. Age seventeen his parents gifted him a camera for his birthday, a camera which further sparked his love for film and cinema. He and his friends would find themselves making short films or every log of their lives, though it became even more serious for Jungwon when a short film made by the seven of them won their towns film festival and earned him a full ride scholarship into any university of his choice.

She didn’t like people, she never liked people because they made her far too nervous for a multitude of listed reasons. From the age of six to eight children always proved to be rude, mean and annoying. She’d simply want to make friends though the endless bullying and teasing pushed her further and further from that goal. She simply ghosted her way through the entirety of her middle school years until the time to attend high school had come, it was then that her view on people had only worsened, she sat in silence nearly every day having to observe the bullying, countless fights, the endless number of attention whores and line upon lines of men that simply wanted to get into the pants of her and the many other young women that attended the school. Simply put high school took the cake for the most hellish and torturous years of her school life.

The only ongoing thing in her life that helped her dissociate her way through were the stars she’d see from her window growing up, though as she grew older the stars stopped showing up and slowly faded from the sky, and by the time she turned sixteen it was as if they ceased to exist. Now here she is alone yet again, this time without her parents or younger siblings to fall back upon, as they had been hours, and states away.

A sigh spilled past her lips as her gaze scans the campus of her new home for the next four years. She gave a silent prayer that things here would be different from high school, that some were all older and much more mature, that things wouldn’t be the same. Boy did the lord completely disregard that prayer, because it was a near carbon copy, the only difference being more people knew how to mind their business.

Jungwon eyed her curiously from afar as she stood in the courtyard for what felt like hours just staring into the void. Hundreds of girls on campus and yet his eyes just so happen to fall upon her, her who felt the moment anyone’s eyes fell upon her in classes, her who wouldn’t even want anything to do with him nor anyone else on campus.

It would continue on like that for months on end, Jungwons eyes somehow finding her amidst the overwhelming crowd of others, like a magnet of attraction they always found her. Whenever he’d look at her her head always seemed to be lost within the clouds, she always seemed so distant and distracted. Everywhere she went she wore those headphones and kept her head down as if she wanted to go unseen, but he saw her he always saw her.

Jungwon was someone that had never found interest in anyone other than himself or the same six friends he had known for the last seven years. Needless to say they themselves forced themself into his life but they had always been there ever since and he never felt like he needed anyone else. He never yearned for love nor for his heart to fiend for anyone. He had never desired sex, or the touch or kiss of another because he felt it to be impractical. Growing up he always had eyes on him, though it was attention that by him always went unwanted, but for some reason, here and now he finally experienced what it was like to yearn for someone's attention, for someone's gaze to fall upon him.

For 2 months he continued on this way, hoping that she would one day look his way but she never did. It frustrated him, so much so that he couldn’t even focus on his film making, he of all people? Any time he’d try to focus he wondered what it would be like to talk to her, what did her voice sound like? What was it like to see her smile? What kind of music did she listen to? He’d thought about asking around campus and endless amount of times but he never built the courage, he told himself that this was just a passing phase, that it was simply his mind yearning for some sort of muse, but it did nothing to lessen the ongoing fever of her that lingered every time she walked by.

Then one day, she walked into the library while he had been working on a project with his art study group and he took the chance to slip away without anyone noticing. His eyes curiously drank her in as she piled books into her arms.

She noticed him staring, she always noticed him staring, but what was she to say to him? She dreaded talking to people, dreaded talking to guys even more. With unspoken words she finally turns to face him and as her eyes meet Jungwons something within them sparks a flame. Realizing she had finally been looking at him, that he now fully had her attention his eyes widened almost instantaneously.

“Um.” What was he thinking? He didn’t even know what to say to her. “Hey so I’ve been watching you all this time because for some reason you interested me and I find you pretty? Will you do a film with me?”

“Jungwon, what are you doing? We need to hurry and finish this before tomorrow.” His unspoken words had gone interrupted as his given group called him back to his place at the camera. Jungwon mentally cursed, not knowing if this was an opportunity that he would get again.

“Jungwon..” his name melted on her tongue like cotton candy, her soft voice breaking the silence as she stood alone yet again. Though for some reason she felt slight disappointment.

Weeks had passed since Jungwon saw her again, he had gotten a taste of what it was like to have her look at him, to have her eyes on him and he yearned for it. So when given the opportunity he would force himself to talk to her, even if he didn’t know what to say.

Every day he’d find himself trudging through the aisles of the library, hoping to see her and eventually he did.

“Hi, I'm here to return my books.” That was the first time he heard her voice, a voice that made his ears melt, a voice that he wanted, no he needed to hear more of. If anyone were to view things from the outside they’d think him to be crazy, even he thought he was crazy, obsessing over some girl he had never even had the courage to approach until now. He didn’t understand why she had such a pull on him, and as much as he tried to dismiss the curious feeling and aching instinct to be close to her he couldn’t. Without thinking he pulled a random book from the shelf and stepped beside her at the opposing checkout.

“Oh Jungwon, are you checking out more books for your project? I thought you guys finished up yesterday?”

“Yeah we did, but you know I can never seem to stop the ideas from flowing.” Jungwon felt butterflies burn the pit of his stomach as he felt it again, her eyes on him.

For a moment her eyes did fall upon him, she was curious, curious as to who he was, what he and the other students had been doing in the library yesterday. Why did he approach her yesterday?

“Oh yn, have you met Jungwon?” Chaewon the library assistant seemed to notice her curious gaze and decided to break the overbearing tension that seemed to be pouring from the both of them.

“You’re always in here so maybe you saw him yesterday, he’s a film major, they’ve actually been looking for someone to help with choosing scores and soundtracks for one of their bigger projects, maybe you can help them since you’re good with music?” Her eyes widened and she glanced back and forth between her and Jungwon. At that moment she prayed that the ground would swallow her whole. She gave Chaewon a pleading look as if to ask her not to say another word but chaewon simply returned her look with a look of confusion.

Chaewon was the only thing close to a friend that yn had, ever since she started frequenting the library the girl had always been there. No matter how many times yn had tried to mind her business and avoid conversation Chaewon never stopped trying. Slowly but surely the girl found herself opening herself up a bit more to Chaewon.

“Do you really? We’ve been trying to find someone in the music department for months now that can match the vibe of the film and we’ve had no luck, if it's not a problem we could really use your help.” She hates the way he looks at her, expectantly, his soft eyes so full of hope that she might say yes. She felt her heartbeat quicken and her temperature rise as she froze on the spot. She always avoided people but now she had no way of avoiding the conversation at hand.

“Maybe?” That was enough, Jungwon didn’t need to hear anything else.

“Here's my number, if you do decide that you’d like to give it a try then you can text me? I’m always in the film room really late but I can swing by your dorm to get you if needed.” Hearing those words her soul completely left her body. Him? Come to her dorm.

“No! I mean- no it's okay i'll meet you in the courtyard? The big tree where the senior event planners usually sit?”

Chaewon couldn’t help but feel like she was missing something between the two of them but knowing yn she thought that maybe she was just feeling a little nervous or awkward talking to Jungwon. Both yn and Chaewon watch as Jungwon disappears from the library.

“He didn’t even sign for the book- ” Chaewon holds the book in her hand before looking down and reading the title.

“The kissing booth. Since when does he make romance films?” Chaewon shrugs and makes her way from behind the counter to put the book back in its rightful place, leaving the girl alone to drown in her thoughts.

The entire walk back to her dorm yn couldn’t stop overthinking and panicking. She couldn’t not show up because then she’d look like a bitch, but if she did agree to it then she would risk having to speak and be around groups of people which she completely dreaded.

Jungwon on the other hand couldn’t stop looking at his phone from the moment he had given her his number. If this were any other day he couldn’t care less about his phone. There had been many times heeseung would complain about his messages going unread or him having missed his calls since he was always working on some sort of project. Right here right now though, his eyes would shift to his phone every 5 minutes. An hour went by and he finally heard the ding of his cellphone. He blankly stared at his phone as he read the message sent by an unknown contact. What should he say?

Jungwon couldn’t help but chuckle at her panicked text, she was cute. He had gone from not even knowing her and not talking to her to wanting to only hear and see her talk. With a smile on his lips he responds to her panicked messages “meet me at the magnolia tree”

[alexanderwales]

I'm curious why you keep calling Blake Snyder a hack writer? You said you noticed it while reading the introduction, what was it that tipped you off?

Part of it is just the ethos. He wants to make mass market stuff that appeals to the lowest common denominator. Part of it is the carnival-barker style. I think there's talent in being a successful hack, and certainly hard work, but ... let me see if I can find a quote.

I think there is something terrribly arrogant about many filmmakers who create movies to “make people think.” People can do their own thinking thanks.

(This isn't from the book, but from a response to a fan asking him why he repeatedly bashed Memento, and this is such an encapsulation of his mindset.)

There is, in the book, no sense of exploration or experimentation, it's always the cheapest, laziest way of solving the writing problem. He disdains art, and his idea of craft is this soulless application of formula. Obviously Save the Cat! is by-the-numbers, but most of the examples inside it are also by-the-numbers, the ways that he suggests to spice up a scene, the things he thinks are funny, his idea of a primal urge.

If we look at the things he's actually written, then he's only had two movies produced, and I've only seen one of them, which was Blank Check. I saw it when I was the correct age for it (a young kid), and it is almost exactly what you would picture when I tell you the logline is "a kid cashes a check for a million dollars", aside from maybe the subplot of criminals wanting their money back, and the weird part at the end where a 30-year-old FBI agent kisses an 11-year-old boy. There is nothing original in it.

And this is what Blake Snyder wants! He has a whole chapter titled "Give me the same thing ... only different!", he thinks that this is what audiences crave, and I don't think he's necessarily wrong, but his ambition starts and ends at "make money selling scripts", and his path to doing that is writing the same story.

Maybe I should sit down and watch Stop of My Mom Will Shoot!, his only other produced script, but it won a Golden Raspberry for Worst Screenplay, so I expect that to be a waste of my time.

Though I think he's a hack, I don't dispute that his methods work, and I don't think that using them precludes a good screenplay, or applied to other writing, precludes good stories. Some of the advice is advice that I've given in the past. I'm also a fan of story structures and think that they can provide a better understanding of the beats of a story and how it's flowing.

"Hack" is, I'll admit, kind of a rude thing to call someone, but if "hack writer" means anything, then Blake Snyder is a hack's hack, with no pretensions of being anything more. And he died fifteen years ago, so it's not like he can get mad about it.

[thefaithfulnightwriter]

𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐊 ~ Chapter Two

Summary - 𝙄𝙣 𝙬𝙝𝙞𝙘𝙝 Azriel's mate is banished to another world by Amarantha. To a world she never knew existed. To a different world called Zenithara. She finds herself being stuck in Zenithara for many years. And as more time passes it leads her to giving up hope to ever get back to her family, her mate. It changes her living in such a world. She never once felt safe in Zenithara. But one day when she is given a mask. She finds herself feeling safe and concealed from the world. It gave her a sense of strength and power. Which leads her to persevere in the new world she was in.

But what will happen when she finds herself being sent back to her old world Prythian, to her home in Velaris? What will happen when she is finally reunited with her family… her mate?

Pairing - Azriel x Female!Oc

Universe - A Court of Thorns and Roses

Warnings -  Characters may be a bit OOC, Mature Themes, Gore, Death, Semi Smut, Violence, Language, Weapons, Mention of Past Abuse, Mention of War, Things Will Be Changed, Fluff, Angst, Some Sensitive Subjects, Mating Bonds, Scars, Experimentation, More Will Be Added If Needed.

Disclaimer - I do not own the series ACOTAR. I do own certain characters, and I own my mc. I do own somethings that are made up. I also got some inspiration from some movies and tv shows. So if you see anything familiar.  But i own my writing and whatnot you get where im going and what i am saying lol.

Author's Note - i really hope you like this fic. i gotta say this fic is very challenging for me because of the world building around it and what not. but i do love it. i hope you guys do too. that is all i can think to say lol.

─── Zenithara ───

─── G.H.O.S.T Ship ───

Anna was now sitting on a carrier ship that was going back to Sky City. Her team, Alpha team who were mainly led by Evan, surrounded her. Very soft music was playing in the background. To try and keep everyone calm. But also not loud so everyone could stay alert. 

But the main thing she heard was soft talking between teammates and clicking of weapons. All were making sure their weapons were charged and loaded. Making sure they were all in the right holsters and secured. 

Even after the team successfully retained the load of many innocent people that were kidnapped from Sector One, and were on their way to the Arena. The Arena now resorting to kidnapping people for the Killer games. Being that they were losing people from the Abyss. Well more so the Arena. Being that the justice system was moving and placing criminals elsewhere. Not wanting the Arena or Killer games to continue. Which led G.H.O.S.T. to have to step in and save the people they can. 

Right now though Anna’s team was still on guard. Because the mission wasn't over just yet. They still needed to get these people safely back to Sky City. So they could get checked more thoroughly for injuries, and so they could give the justice system their statements on what happened to them. 

The people they had saved were currently in med bay. People from Beta team trying to keep them calm, and helping them with any injuries they could. Along with the team mates who had been injured during the mission.

At the moment Anna was observing her surroundings with her now glowing gold eyes. Now being able to see clearly without her glasses, as she used one of her abilities. Her ability of enhanced eyesight. Which when she used such eyesight her eyes always glowed a golden color. 

Right now she was watching everything around her on the ship. From behind her mainly golden, black, porcelain colored mask. That covered her whole face. The only thing that could be seen were her eyes. Other than that you couldn't see her face, nothing. Only her eyes. 

In Anna's eyes it was a beautiful mask. It was gifted to her by Katrina many years ago when she was still in the Arena. A mask that was very precious to Anna. A mask that she took care of and kept in immaculate shape.  

The top had golden and black intricate patterns that flared up slightly at the crown of her head. With amber and golden jewels that dangled on the side. Then at the middle of her head of the mask was an amber jewel. 

The golden and black detailed patterns that went from the top of her head then curved under her eyes and over her nose. Around her eyes were black, the only thing that was seen were her eyes. The lower half of her face was covered by porcelain with a pair of golden lips painted on it. 

Then around her neck was covered by black cover that had a few golden chains. It held up the mask and some mechanics that were connected to her mask. Her being the only one who knew how to use it. Knowing all the ins and outs of the mask. Having it for many years now.   

The mask was one of Anna's prize possessions. Having her mask on was also one of the things she used to cope with everything. Her mask gave her a sense of safety and power. It concealed her from the world. Giving her the strength to persevere in Zenithara. 

But most of all it kept her hidden. It hid who she was, hid her scars, her emotions, it hid Anna. 

Which was something she loved. She loved to stay hidden. Anna seemed to love it so much that she wore her mask whenever she was around people. The only time she had it off was around Evan and his father. But sometimes it was still hard for her to take it off. The two though knew how to coax it off her and make her feel safe. They were the only two who could. 

Though when Anna was alone. Mainly in one of her homes in the three Sectors or her own room, that was the only time she had the mask off. Not feeling safe but somewhat comfortable. It was when she swapped her mask for her glasses. Letting her eyes settle to their normal dark brown. But that rarely happened.   

She was accustomed to having her golden gleaming eyes on display. She was accustomed to seeing everything in a more intense and enhanced way. 

Though she had her glasses it couldn't compare to having her enhanced sight. And without either she was just blind. Only being able to see a meter in front of her. Which she didn’t like. It made her feel vulnerable, and she couldn’t stand that feeling. That was why she used her enhanced sight so much, most of the time. 

But also with that she always has an ear out for anything as well. Having trained her hearing just as much as her eyesight. So, if anything happened she would be prepared in any way. It wasn't really hard with her being a high fae. 

Though at one point her pointed ears caused her trouble while in the Arena. Doctors became more curious than ever over her, and wanted to experiment on her when they found her in the Arena. More than any other subject they had. They wanted to find out everything about her, and enhance everything. One of the things it led to was having a piece of her ears cut off. Leaving on the outer shell of her pointed ear to have a crescent type shape cut out.  

Even after that inncident she stayed strong, it was hard but she kept going. It didn't deter her. But it did lead to her wanting to train her hearing to be sharper. Just as sharp as her heightened eyesight, when her eyes were glowing. So she could rely on her hearing if anything. Having done such a thing though caused her to have an advantage. With her eyesight and hearing. But also caused her to see and hear the world in a different way. 

Just like now. Looking around once again she took everything in. The walls of the ship, the bags, the weapons, and the people talking and whispering. Who were her teammates. There were many who she noticed and recognized but few she didn't. 

It caused her to sigh and lean further back into her seat. As she stayed to herself. She didn't want to interact nor be near anyone. Anna just wanted to get this mission over with and help where she could. Then go home. Maybe have a drink then escape into her art work. 

When she wasn't on missions she was working on her art. It was another thing she used to cope. Through her art she brought Prythian her old world to Zenithara. She had walls upon walls covered with paintings of her old world, her old life. They were in all three of her houses. 

Her favorite house was in Sector Two, Middle ground. She had dedicated the house to everything Night Court, or Velaris. Middle Ground gave her the most inspiration. Reminding her the most of her home Velaris somewhat.

In her house that was in Middle Ground there were murals all over. They were mainly paintings of places in Velaris. Like the mountains that surrounded Velaris, the stars, the House of Wind, the Rainbow, Rita's, and more. But there were also paintings of her family. One wall was dedicated to them. Cassian, Rhysand, Amren, and Morrigan. 

Then there was a wall dedicated to one more person, a male. A male that she missed so much. That had a piece of her heart. A piece of her soul. A piece of her that she would never get back. He was someone she desperately wanted to not forget. He was someone so important to her. He was her mate... Azriel. 

Over time, over the past fifty something years Anna has forgotten some of her old life, her old world. That was one of the reasons she drew and painted so much, it was so she wouldn't forget. Anna wouldn't say she had the most excellent memory. But she could remember some things. But the one thing or person she remembered the most about was Azriel. 

Though there were things she had forgotten like his voice, his scent, the way his touch felt. It caused Anna to cry for days when she realized she had forgotten such things. But the things she could remember out weighted the things she couldn't. She believed it was because she drew him so many times over the years. It was so she could remember and keep the memories alive. To keep his memory alive and with her. 

She could mostly remember what he looked like. Things like his tan skin that seemed to glow under the sun. His beautiful large strong black wings upon his back that he would use to fly.  His clever shadows that wisped around him. His ebony hair that fell over his eyes. And his eyes. 

His beautiful hazel eyes that could show nothing one moment, then another moment be filled with such raw emotions. He could take her breath away with one look. Anna missed those looks. She missed his intense hazel eyes on her. Anna missed Azriel so much. At times she found herself missing him the most.

A sad sigh escaped her lips. As her head and shoulders fell and her eyes closed. As she remembered Azriel. It took everything in Anna to not let her tears fall. To not let her emotions go everywhere and let her powers out. Being they were connected to her emotions. 

It took a lot out of Anna this time to steel herself. And Anna noticed it. She noticed that it was becoming harder for her to keep doing such a thing. Because lately Anna... she was tired. 

Anna was tired of hiding. She was tired of fighting. She was tired of losing people. She was tired of feeling lost. She was tired of this world. She was tired of it all. But Anna knew she had to keep going. Because she knew that many people would want her to keep going. Azriel, her old family in Prythian, Katrina, Eva, her nephews. Anna knew she had to stay strong. 

Anna though didn't know how long she could go on. Because when it came down to it she was exhausted, lost, and alone. Yes, there were parts of Zenithara that were beautiful. And Anna may have or not seen them all. But if she was being honest with herself Anna just didn't care for Zenithara. Not as much as she cares for Prythian. Because even with more than half a century passing with her in this world Zenithara, she still felt so lost, and alone. 

Even with Evan and his father. Anna loved her nephews very much and they helped her. But there was only so much they could do. They had their own lives, and unfortunately they would never understand her. Not what she has been through. Not what she is or who she was. No one would understand. But she still loved them for helping her.

Anna was soon shaken from such thoughts when she heard Evan. Catching her attention. She was soon looking at him with her golden eyes. She found him kneeling in front of where she was sitting. His crystal eyes were on her and filled with worry. As he gently placed his fingerless gloved cover hands over hers. He was quick to hold them when she didn't pull away from him.

"Hey. Are you okay?" Evan whispered softly to her. So only she could hear what he was saying. Knowing she could hear him. He didn't want to draw any attention to them. Knowing Anna didn't like the attention on her. He also didn't want her to feel uncomfortable. So he took to speaking low to her, and tried to keep her attention on him. 

All Anna could do was take a deep breath and nod slightly. As she looked away from him. She didn't want to tell him her thoughts or problems. She didn't want to push her problems onto him. Nor did she want to burden him with her issues.    

"I find that hard to believe. You know you can talk to me right Auntie Goldie?" Evan sighed sadly. Hearing him caused Anna to nod her head again. Which led him to send her a small smile. He wanted her to talk to him but didn't want to push her. So, he did what he and his father do all the time. Let her know they were there for her no matter what. 

"Remember I'm always here for you Aunt Anna. No matter what you've got me. And you got dad too. I know it's hard and I don't know what you're going through. Just know you are not alone," he tried to soothe her. She was soon nodding her head as a sigh was heard from her. She then gently leant forward placing her head against his. She really appreciated Evan. He was so optimistic, kind, and caring. It made her smile. But her smile widened behind her mask even more hearing what he said next.

"After this mission, why don't I call up dad and all three of us can head to Middle Ground. We can meet at your place cause I know it's your favorite. Then you can tell us some stories or we can watch some movies or something. Have family time together. Just the three of us," Evan planned. He was soon chuckling with a wide smile. As he watched Anna nod quickly. She had  leaned back and clapped her hands together gently to show him her excitement. 

He knew that she was smiling by the look in her glowing eyes. That he's learned to read since he was young. He was happy to see she was excited for the plan, also happy he was able to lift her mood a bit. Nodding his head he agreed. Standing up he still had a hold of her gloved covered hand. He was then pulling her to help her get up from the seat. 

"Alright it's a plan. I'll call -," Evan started. But he was abruptly cut off. Because soon he and Anna were falling back into the seats. Being jostled by the carrier ship shaking. It was as if something had hit the ship. 

Which led everyone to be on guard and alert. Making themselves prepared for anything. Knowing it could be an attack. Evan was quick to grab the radio on his shoulder. Demanding the pilot to tell him what was going on. Asking if the ship was hit or if there was an attack.   

"No attack. It seems we have been hit by something, sir. But umm... there is something we think you should see. We're not sure what it is," The co-pilot stammered unsure and seemed to be a little scared. A sigh escaped Evan before he answered.

"Okay I'm on my way."

"Everyone calm down for now but be on alert. You coming Goldie?" Evan ordered the team. Which he received a nod from many. He was then turning to ask Anna. She was quick to nod and followed him to the cockpit. 

After a few minutes of walking they were in the control area. The pilot and co-pilot seemed to be whispering to each other. While one was pointing outside the window in front of them. It seemed they had stopped the carrier, keeping it hovering in place. Looking at each other Anna and Evan shrugged. 

"What are you pointing at? And why have we stopped? We're still on a mission. We have to get these people back to Sector One," Evan questioned the two with a sigh. As he rubbed his face and crossed his arms. 

He was starting to get frustrated because he wanted to get this mission done with. But he soon stopped when Anna placed a hand on his arm. Turning to her he was met with her golden eyes that were wide behind her mask. She was quick to point as she looked forward. 

Evan was quick to turn to see what she was looking at. All he saw was a bright light in the distance. It looked like a ball of light or an orb. He was then stepping forward with Anna. Both trying to get a closer look. More so Evan. The orb was just hovering there in the middle of the sky in front of the ship. It was as if it were waiting for something.     

"We don't know what it is or what to do. The reading signature from it is off the scale and unknown. And it seems every time we try to move it follows. The jostling you felt was us trying to move away from it. But it hit the ship. Then it started moving around us as if to observe us, to us it's like it's looking for something. We honestly don't know what to do," the pilot explained to Evan, not taking his eyes off the light. 

"Do you think it's something from the Arena?" Evan asked the two. As he leaned forward on the pilot seats. Trying to observe the orb of light. Anna was in a state of wonder as she looked at the orb. So much so she tilted her head in confusion.    

"Like I said sir we don't know what it is. The signature and energy coming off of it is off the scale and unknown. We tried to quickly go through the database, but still can't find a match. We wanted to know what you think we should do. Because it seems we can't move without it following or attacking. And I don't think you want that thing following us to our hidden headquarters. Nor attacking us," the pilot answered. Looking to Evan and Anna for the first time now. 

"Shit," Evan whispered angrily. As he threw his head back and closed his eyes thinking on what to do. Nothing like this has ever happened before. So he was clueless on what to do. He was beginning to get a headache with how much he was thinking. Between this and the mission he was getting tired. He just wanted to get the mission over and have his family day with his father and Aunt. 

But his thoughts were shaken. When he felt a small gloved hand grip his arm and pull him. Opening his eyes Evan looked to see it was Anna and was quick to follow her. After telling the pilots to keep him posted which they agreed to do. Anna was then pulling him just outside the room so they could talk. 

"Let me take a look at it Evan," Anna reasoned with him with her soft voice. She could see that Evan was starting to get slightly overwhelmed. So she wanted to help him. Take some of the weight of his shoulders. Anna knew she was the only one who could get close enough to take a look at the orb of light. She also knew they needed to get past it and fast. So they could finish this mission and get the people who were kidnapped back home. She was pretty much the only one who could try to get this thing out of the way. 

But hearing her Evan was quick to shake his head and disagree with her plan. He didn't want to put her in such danger. Not when they didn't know what it was, and never dealt with something like this before. He didn't want to send her in blind. He didn't want to lose his Aunt. The only real maternal figure in his life now. Evan was about to speak. But was stopped by Anna raising her hand gesturing to him to stay quiet. Which led Evan to sigh and stay quiet as he looked into her golden eyes.

"I only say this because I am the only one who can get close enough to it. And I can do it quickly. We are still on a mission Evan. We need to get these people back quickly. You know the longer we wait and sit here like sitting ducks isn't good. We are losing time. And the chance of someone from the Arena finding us is getting higher. So let me go and take a look at this thing. Let me see what I can do," Anna explained to him softly. It shocked Evan to hear her say so much in one sitting. But he shook the shock away.

Knowing now wasn't the time to think too much about such a thing. Taking in what Anna said Evan grunted in frustration. Because he knew she was right. He was then quick to look at the watch on his wrist. It caused Evan to curse under his breath because of the time. Time seemed to not be on their side right now. 

Turning his gaze on Anna he looked into her shining eyes. Trying to see if he could read her. Trying to see if he could see any emotions. Anna's mask hid her very well. It hid all of her… but her eyes. Even then it was hard to read her still because she could hide her emotions so well. It was more so hard to read her when around people. Though when it was just them or her with his father she showed them her emotions. Showed them her emotions mainly through her eyes. 

Other than that there was nothing else that she really did. As the years went on she talked less, and reached out less and less to them. Which worried him and his father a lot as of lately. But right now he looked into her gleaming eyes. He could see she was tired which worried him. Because it was a look that he sees more and more of over the time he’s spent with her. But he also could see a look of determination in her eyes right now. 

It caused Evan to clench his jaw. Because he knew she was the only one who could do this. Looking at his watch again he growled slightly in frustration. He was then running his hands through his wavy hair and over his face. Before nodding at her. Agreeing with her plan. Looking at her with concern. 

"Okay. You go out there and do what you can as quickly as you can. As you said we are still on a mission. You need to be as quick as possible. I'll make sure we keep an eye on you the whole time. If you want to you can talk to me while out there whenever. And if you need to get out of there, you get out of there. I mean it. We'll find another way if anything," Evan cautioned. Hearing his speech caused Anna to smile behind her mask. But she nodded nonetheless. To let him know she agreed and to ease his worries.  

"Have some faith in your Aunt Goldie. I am around a hundred years old. I got some wisdom in me. And let's not forget I've been doing this longer than you," Anna joked as she pointed at him. Evan chuckled at her before opening his arms. Inviting her into a hug. Smiling behind her mask Anna giggled and walked forward into his arms. Throwing her soft arms around his waist. 

He was quick to wrap his arms around her shoulders. Not wanting to let her go. Sighing Evan was scared for his Aunt. The one he was closest to. The one who has been there for him all his life. He was filled with fear for her because he didn't want to lose her. 

But he knew that she was strong and smart. So he pulled away, letting her go. Having some faith in her. Looking down at her, he smiled with a nod. Kissing her masked cover head quickly before she could push him away. It caused Anna to giggle while Evan chuckled. Both of them were soon shaking their heads at each other. 

Before Evan patted her arm and gestured for her to follow him quickly. Anna nodded and rushed to follow behind him. Both knew they needed to be quick. After a moment she realized he was leading her to a weapons vault room. More specifically hers and his that they shared. 

Soon Anna was grabbing a few gadgets. Her hologram watch, an extra radio, a locator. Then grabbing the two golden guns that Evan held out for her. After making sure they were loaded and giving her extra clips. She rolled her eyes at him and shook her head. Seeing her Evan was quick to voice his worries.

"Hey there's nothing wrong with extra protection. Especially when your goin' in blind. I know you have your powers, magic, or whatever. But just take them to give me peace of mind. Please," Evan pleaded with her. Sighing Anna nodded and placed them in the holsters on her thighs. She never really liked guns or anything of that sort. She preferred her non mechanical weapons. But more so preferred her weapons that were made specifically for her.

Which were her short sword that was strapped to her back. Then her two daggers that were tucked into her long black boots. Then her lasso at her side. Then her knives that were hidden all over her. They were all specially made for only her and her powers. 

So she could use the weapons as a conduit for her magic at times. The weapons could absorb small amounts of her magic’s essences. It made her weapons glow with heat depending on how much magic she stored in said weapon. They could burn through pretty much anything depending on how much magic was stored in them. It was another form of weapon she could use. 

After Anna was done collecting her weapons with Evan's help. She was soon guided to the rear of the ship by Evan. Where the Alpha team was. They were looking at Evan and Anna with confusion. 

"We've seem to have run into a problem. Gold here is gonna go out and take a look at it. We're going to be on stand by so if anything happens. Remember we are still on a mission. So, be ready for anything. Anything can still happen. While she is out we'll be keeping an eye on her from the monitors," Evan explained to them. 

Going over what is happening with them. As he took out a small touch pad and pressed a few buttons on the screen. He swiped the screen and a large hologram monitor soon appeared on the wall. Showing the team what was outside in front of the ship blocking their way still. Many were shocked at the orb. Causing them to ask questions. Which led Evan to answer what he could.  

"Alright that's it with the questions for now we're wasting time. We need to get this over with okay. Goldie, remember what I said. Take a look, do what you can, but if you need to get out of there. Get out," Evan declared. Leading the team to quiet down. He then turned to Anna. 

Who nodded at his request. As she walked past everyone to get to the back opening. Waiting for the hatch to open. Closing her eyes she took a deep breath. Composing herself to fly, and preparing herself for anything. Evan sighed as he walked to the side of the opening reaching for the latch. Looking at her for a moment making sure she was ready.

"You ready?" Evan asked her. Opening her eyes Anna took another deep breath, nodded, and gave him a thumbs up. Seeing her make the gesture he sent her a nod.  

"Alright be careful Aunt Anna. Remember we got our family night coming up,"  Evan reminded her with a smile. Anna giggled and nodded. Before pointing at the latch. Evan was hesitant but reluctantly pulled it. Opening the back of the ship, making wind blow and whip around them. 

Looking at Evan one last time she sent him a small salute. Then before he could say anything else she ran forward and jumped out of the back of the ship. The last thing she heard was the team laugh. As Evan cursed at her for scaring him.

A laugh escaped her as she fell from the ship. But soon she found herself closing her eyes. Anna allowed herself to fall and feel the wind rush past her. Feeling the wind against her skin. She could feel the rush and sensation of falling. And enjoyed the feeling. Letting herself feel free. She wishes she could stay like this for a while longer. But Anna knew she had a task.

So sighing she opened her shining eyes. Feeling the power she had within. Soon a luminescent gold light appeared at her chest. As the light appeared so did the warmth. Feeling it Anna smiled and allowed the feeling to grow and wash over her.

Allowing her powers to engulf her whole. And soon a gold shimmering light surrounded Anna. She then stopped falling and was hovering in the vast sky. With a gold light shimmering around her, that was her magic. Wrapped around her like a blanket. Keeping her safe and in the air. 

Looking around she saw the lights of the city above and below. Noting they would be going off soon because of the time. Then she found the carrier ship above her. She needed to get to the front of the ship, and check out this orb of light. Then try to move it. Nodding to herself she then willed her powers to carry her forward. 

She smiled behind her mask as she flew through the sky. Loving the feeling of soaring through the air. With her task in mind she was quick to reach her destination. Which was the front of the ship. Looking over her shoulder at the front windows of the ship. She could see the pilots, a few of her teammates, and Evan. She shook her head and waved. Before turning and making her way towards the orb of light. She was growing closer and closer to the light. 

Before she stopped abruptly. Her smile falling from her lips as a frown washed over her. The feeling it was giving off. It was a familiar magic. It was a magic she hasn't felt in such a long time from anywhere but herself. Even then her own magic seemed tainted. But this sort of power or magic was pure. And it was from her old life, from her old world Prythian.

"You okay Goldie?"     

Anna heard Evan through her speaker ask. Quickly reaching for the comms on her mask. She was about to answer him and explain what was happening. When suddenly the air shifted around her. She then watched as the orb of light moved closer to her. She was quick to glide and move back but it kept coming closer to her. Anna had no clue what to do. 

She kept slowly moving back more. Trying to keep a distance from the orb of light. That is until she heard it. A loud noise similar to the snapping of a whip and thunder. A noise that haunted her dreams. It was the same noise she heard when she was pushed into that portal by Amarantha. It caused her to stiffen in a state of fear. But the difference now was this time she was hearing it more than once.

She was quick to cover her ears. Feeling overwhelmed by the noises. All she could hear was the whipping noise mixed with loud thunder and Evan on the comms. She was quick to ignore them and pull herself together. And was soon trying to fly away as fast as she could. Anna only got so far when she felt the wind pick up around her. She could feel the magic that was controlling the wind. She felt the force of it against her powers. It caused a scream to escape her as she tried to keep a hold on her powers. As the wind pushed her closer and closer to the orb. 

Tears began to fall from Anna's eyes as she tried to fight against the force. Anna didn't know how to feel. She knew that this may be her way home. And a part of her was hoping for it. But then another part of her was scared and filled with fear. What if this was just another portal to another world she didn't know? What if someone or even Amarantha was just playing with her and was sending her to another world? 

It has been too long for this portal to just come out of nowhere and send her back to Prythian. It seemed too easy. Which meant it was most likely to send her to another world. That was the only thing that was coming to her mind. 

It was what caused her to fight against the current. But it was no use, it was too much. Anna cried because there was nothing she could do to keep from going into the portal. And Anna knew that she needed to stop fighting so she could preserve her magic. So she wasn't defenseless in the next world. 

Looking at the ship one last time. Anna could see her team rushing around through the windows. Seeming to try and find a way to get to her. They were all somewhat a blur to her. But the one she could see clearly was Evan yelling. More tears fell thinking of him. Evan and his father were going to be the only ones she was going to miss from this world. The only ones who she hasn't lost. In that moment she focused on Evan's voice that was coming through the comms. She could hear him yelling frantically through the comms. But the last thing she heard was his cry for her.

"Aunt Annamarie." 

[inquisitor-apologist]

Have we, as a fandom, progressed to the point that we can realize that Twilight of the Apprentice, while a good episode, is not a particularly great Rebels episode and is certainly the least functional finale in the entirety of Rebels?

[mechahero]

There's a whoooole bunch of undead guys in Motor City! And while I can't go over every single one of them, here's a small selection of zombies you'll see here! You don't have to use the nicknames for them though, we are all aware of how dumb they sound.

YOU try coming up with a way to tell different zombies apart without sounding like a complete dumbass though. >:/

ROMEROS- Your classic zombie. Slow, shambling and trouble in large crowds. These guys outnumber most of the zombie types here 2 to 1. Compared the zombies they're named after, they're far more smarter than them. While you won't catch them using a rock to bash open a window, you'll at the very least be able to hold normal conversations with them as they're well... normal people still more or less!

You could always ask one what brought them back and sometimes they'll tell that it was due to a satellite that came back from Venus. Don't take it to heart though, it's mostly a joke.

LANDERS- Said to be the victims of a disease (probably rabies or mad cow disease or something, we don't fricking know), these zombies are bit uh... complicated. These guys take the longest to get back on track and get them acting like the humans they used to be. It's no fault of their own obviously, but man is their particular strain of zombification a complete BITCH to work with. It makes them bitey, spew-y and all around JERKS the first few months of unlife.

They're alright once you get them back down to normal but you really gotta stick it out through those months to do it. And the kicker? They can only make more of themselves via biting. Or if they've got a cold and are inconsiderate enough to not cover their mouths when they sneeze. Not that you'll catch any of the ones here biting people though. That's rude and they're more likely to be chowing down on junk food than people. They looove stuff like Ding Dongs and stuff like that.

Not every Lander is the same though, since some of them seem to act completely differently to the regular Landers. One of them snuck up on me the other day, it wasn't fun.

TRAINRUNNERS- Okay, forget what I said about the Landers. THESE guys are complicated. Kind of, I mean. They're fast, super durable for the most part and their strain is also spread through bite and boy, does it spread FAST. It's probably for the best that there's so few of them living here. That's nothing against them, of course but uh... it's not fun to deal with?

And if takes a while to get a Lander back on track, then it takes even longer for a Trainrunner. Which is not as pleasant as you can imagine when they get out of control but hey, we push through. Some of them are kind of prickly people to deal with though. We're not sure if that's because of the way their strain affects their brains or if some of them are natural born jerks. But either way, if you see some literally rotten looking people with varicose like veins and wearing sunglasses (their eyes ARE kind of gross looking), then you're seeing a Trainrunner. Just be cool around them and you'll be okay.

I dunno who originally coined their nickname though. We don't even have trains here?

NEWDEADS- A sort of catchall term for zombies that don't fit in the standard definition of zombie but are similar enough to their regular counterparts to qualify as one. It's not too uncommon to see a Newdead with a pulse (That's me!) but as long as they have a couple of traits seen in either Romeros, Landers, or Trainrunners, they can count as a Newdead. The one difference between a Newdead and the other zombie types though is that Newdeads don't have to worry about losing control and going on a complete rampage just to eat some dang flesh. Newdeads are kind of like humans the most? But also kind of not? They're stuck in a weird in between of being both and neither.

Don't ask how a zombie can have a pulse though. Yeah, I know it doesn't make sense but we're all made and sometimes rot and decompose in different ways and you'll break your brain trying to understand it so don't fricking question it. We're all kind of dead and that's just it! :>

Anyways, that should be just about every type of zombie seen here mostly! Might have missed a few but I can always edit this thing. Or just make new pamphlets. Either one. Next one's going to be about vampires and let me tell you that one's gonna be wayyyy easier! Well bye! ^_^b <- (me giving you a thumbs up)

[hydenine]

I really loved the movie Robot Dreams and I've seen it twice now, but there is something extremely jarring about the number of shots where the twin towers are prominently featured in the background, especially since the film seems to have nothing to do with 9/11 sjdjjdjf

[oneroomjestershow]

JASGGKJGSDFJH

[steviescrystals]

i seriously need to get a new job and start making money again asap bc i cannot keep living at home much longer it’s driving me insane

(wrote an entire essay in the tags without meaning to oops)

[todayisafridaynight]

Since you mentioned it, what did you think of Speak No Evil? I was thinking of watching it myself :0

i really liked it ............ my friend scoffed at me when i told her i was watchin it so take my opinion with a grain of salt tho </3

[orcelito]

I'm being like astoundingly social lately. Starting from Thursday last week, I saw my girlfriend, then spent time with family on Friday, then saw my girlfriend again on Saturday + some of her friends, then watched a movie and drew stuff with friends on Sunday, then had a session 0 for new dnd on Monday, then watched anime with a friend on Tuesday. Off day on Wednesday. Then on THURSDAY I hung out with my girlfriend, had a study session with friend group (with mixed success at the studying part), AND watched anime with a friend again. And then today, watched a different anime with a different friend.

And TOMORROW I'm going to a concert with family and a friend, Sunday I'm hanging out with my girlfriend, then Monday I've got dnd thing again (probably? Need to double check). And then potentially more hangouts to come.

It's insane. What is this new social me. I don't think I've ever hung out with this many different people in such a short time before.

[icewindandboringhorror]

We should bring back that thing some websites used to do where whenever you made a post you could also list a bunch of random details alongside it, like the mood you’re currently feeling while writing the post, what you’re eating, music you’re currently listening to, what device you’re writing the post on, some random emoji, your personal motto at the moment, etc. It’s like additional character lore 

[sleepinglionhearts]

Now I must hope that tomorrow I can get thru my early morning doctor's appointment and return home and NOT fall asleep for the rest of the day

[doux-amer]

No offense, but actually yes offense, how could Decision to Leave not be nominated in any category at the Oscars. The cinematography is crazy. Park Chanwook is a master and it’s like he took his decades of experience and decided to flex.

[mantisgodsdomain]

The greatest curse of Us, without a doubt, is the... us-centrism of the fact that we are Us and no one else. Our view on the world is limited and we are frequently subject to the logical fallacy of The Curse Of Knowledge and we're even more frequently beset upon by the fact that some people, like, are Genuinely Averse to depictions of things they've Dealt With themselves.

Like, what do you mean you're talking about this thing as a reason that this media sucks? What do you mean you actively avoid media that depicts things you went through? Do you not gain that feeling of connection from watching people go through something similar to what you did? Do you lack the feelings that are so easy to conjure up in a strong way from seeing a character dealing with the Same Damn Shit? Do you not look at art to feel things?

[kindacreepy-kindaugly]

For the rare coherent, rational thought: it's pretty unlikely this is actually about him or even me. He's sure as fuck not helpin but it's just a smokescreen.