#ive been fibbing

[zurdurer]

Quick silly Jonny D'Ville drawing bcs I've been listening a bunch and honestly he's just so gender and honesty I needed something to help me cope LMAO

I've been wanting to draw him more than most other things lately but all I could actually bring myself to finish was this so yeah urh enjoy 💪

[edit: I've added image IDs since I realised I forgot these initially]

[kirkhammr]

[artbymesa]

Since y’all seem chill I'd like to share some highlights from my partner and I's fridge. An artist/writer and an IT guy who's got jokes.

Guess who wrote all of these?

It was the IT guy.

[ekuns]

ive been so happy all day today because a literal actual lifelong dream of mine came true in the best easter miracle of my life

[seancamerons]

So here is a genuine question so, if denim vests, dresses, pleated denim skirts, and even shoes, pretty much all denim everything, flares too, crops, shrunken blazers, and even gauchos are making a comeback...

How long will it be before sequined shrugs or regular shrugs and layering make a return from a roughly 18 year hibernation?

Like you ask yourself in a store off racks or see on teens and the early twenties and generally younger humans walking down the street, is it like 2006 again?

Even Timberlake is supposedly collabbing with Timbaland and Nelly Furtado. NSYNC, in full as a five piece, who mind you, has been split up for well over almost 20ish years, may even might reunite. It feels crazy. 2006 was what? A whole adult has been born lived their entire toddler and adloscnet eras and is now currently in 2023, an adult since then. That is crazy.

I can’t believe im saying this, but I am lowkey here for it, and dare I say interested and entertained. In the same breath boom, I feel dreadfully old. Even the members of my generation peers and the 40ish members of NSYNC. I joke about it often to myself, but ugh, it's not really a good feeling despite physically being fine as to be expected. The thirties suck.

The gods of fashion say fashion comes in cycles. I suppose this is what it means. Thanks for reading if you made it this far.

I refuse to be old or become old. I make an effort though I lowkey wish I had a cocktail like Meryl Streep had in Death Becomes Her where I remain ageless and can wear all the beautiful clothes with a yoga toned body and looks to match. Life ain't like the movies, and you see all or most of the clothes you donned in middle school or high school on teen children or on the youth of today. I didn't sign up for this.

Yikes, this is how my mom probably when flares came back in the late 1990's or when I was obsessed with watching Nick at Nite or TV Land with the shows of her time like it was brand new. Let's also not forget the VH1 and 80s obsessions. It's a boomerang, it's a cycle and it's driving me crazy.

[satuguro]

✧*ೃ࿐ TONGUES & TEETH

[ ACT IV: THE VALKYRIE'S FALL]

xavier thorpe x valkyrie! reader

#SYNOPSIS— you really shouldn't work at a coffee shop, enid forces you on a shopping spree, and xavier finally snaps.

#CONTAINS— enemies to fwb (kind of) to lovers, slowburn, academic rivals, intimidating and flawed reader, familial issues (will be mentioned in this part), gore, blood, death, aged up characters (everyone is 18 except for eugene), sexual content (in some other parts)

#AUTHORSNOTE— it's official— this series is gonna be a slowburn. thank you for the continuous support !

ACT I, ACT II, ACT III, ACT IV, ACT V, ACT VI

you learned quite quickly that maybe you weren't as good as talking to people as you thought.

you weren't particularly social; your sisters taught you to keep to yourself. as a kid, you often played alone. any friends you made in your multiple foster homes were oftentimes temporary. you always ended up running away in the end, and you were always found at the same location.

1297 brook street.

you were always out on the porch of the old house, slamming your fists into the door as you screamed for the owner of the house to open it. you screamed at them to look at you, to face what she feared most, and you were always, always pulled away from that damned house and put in another foster home. the cycle continued for years.

so no, you weren't the best with speaking to others. not without the occasional snarky comment. but as you worked at the weathervane, reluctantly walking up to a group of normie boys, you found yourself trying to be civil. not only to xavier (who you had been ignoring since you both started), but to the customers.

emphasis on trying.

"what can i get you?" you asked the group with a forced smile, clicking your pen against your notepad.

"i'll get a latte," one of the boys chirped, and you nodded as you wrote it down, listening to the rest of their orders.

"that kid's from nevermore, right?" one of the boys asked, nodding over to xavier. you followed his nod to where xavier stood, giving a few girls their orders. he was talking to them casually, a small smile gracing his face after one of the girls complimented him.

"what's it to you?" you asked, turning your attention back to the needy highschooler. you were only a little bit surprised that they could easily tell who was an outcast and who wasn't, but you assumed it was because xavier had gone to nevermore much longer than you had. this was your first year, after all.

"nevermore kids have always been fuckin' weird," the boy stated factually.

you almost wanted to laugh. you put on an apron and some casual clothes, and suddenly you weren't an outcast. they must've deemed you as 'normal' enough to fit in with them— how pathetic.

"oh, really?" you chose to entertain him for a little longer, pretending to be really into his 'cool' take. but there was that familiar glint in your eye that showed just how irked you were. "how else would you describe them?"

"kooky, dangerous, fuckin' crazy," the guy and his friends snickered, nudging each other as though they were suddenly stand up comedians, "trust me. it's a good thing that after today they'll go back to their creepy-ass castle and stay there."

you hummed in faux agreement, opening your mouth to finally tell them of your fib, before the guy continued.

"you should stay away from them. especially him," he nodded at xavier. "hang out with us instead," he looked you up and down as though you were a piece of meat.

your fake smile immediately fell at that comment, the hand holding your pen gripping it tighter as you stood back up. you took a step closer to the normie, fully ready to beat him to a pulp, before a hand grabbed your shoulder and turned you around immediately.

"what the hell, thorpe?" you hissed, feeling his hands on your shoulders as he quite literally steered you away from them. he let you to where tyler— wednesday's friend that xavier obviously disliked —stood behind the cafe bar.

"what happened now?" tyler asked, obviously concerned as he looked at the group of boys sitting in the booth. they were all talking amongst themselves, their eyes set on you and xavier.

wordlessly, you shoved the notepad with their orders towards tyler, refusing to look at xavier as he scolded you.

"you were about to beat him up, and while he did have it coming, this isn't the right place for that." xavier leaned on the cafe bar, eyes still warily set on you. "are you even listening?"

"i don't have to look at you to be listening," you snapped, taking one of the boys' orders from tyler.

"you two just never stop arguing do you," tyler commented as he pulled another espresso shot and poured it into a mug. he turned around to finish the drink. as per usual, xavier ignored him.

you observed the latte for a second before you leaned over it, letting a huge glob of spit plop into the mug.

"you've got to be kidding," xavier groaned, and you sent him an innocent smile as you took the next order from tyler. luckily for you, tyler was too preoccupied with making drinks to notice that you spat in the next mug. and the next. and the next— you spat in every single one of their mugs.

you reached for a tray and began placing the mugs on it, avoiding xavier's eyes as you said, "they were saying shit about nevermore—"

xavier's eyebrows furrowed, "people say shit all the time—"

"and about you," you finished. you picked up the mugs and looked at him, your expression unreadable. you turned to walk to the boys, your fakest smile gracing your face yet again as you passed out the mugs. "here you go, boys."

"bet you actually are one of those nevermore freaks," the same guy who had been flirting with you said as he took his mug. he took a sip from it, one that you watched sadistically. you reached over to place a mug in front of his other friend, only for his hand to come up and grab your arm— the one with your tattoo on it. "i bet this is some cult shit, isn't it?"

and with that, you set the mugs down on the table and punched him in the nose. the strength of your punch knocked his head back against the seat of the booth, making everyone turn their heads your way. there was a sickening crack that echoed in the air the second your knuckles collided with his face.

"you broke my nose!" the boy yelled, holding his profusely bleeding nose with a handful of napkins.

"never touch me again." you huffed angrily, brushing off your bloodied knuckleson your apron as you turned to his friends, who were frantically checking to see if he was okay. "enjoy your coffee," you said through gritted teeth, talking back to where xavier and tyler stood.

"okay, maybe i should teach you how to make drinks," tyler motioned for you to come to the other side of the bar, concern evident on his face.

"they had it coming that time," xavier muttered to you as you passed him.

a small, proud smile graced your face at that.

most of the day continued in relative peace, the only problems being the constant bickering between you and xavier. you could tell that you both were wearing tyler out by the hour. he only ever really conversed with you, for his attempts to talk to xavier were quickly ignored. you observed how they acted around each other; it was as though tyler kept trying to get along with him while xavier just couldn't care less.

it was like they had history.

the sight of a familiar pigtailed girl made you look to the side of the cafe bar, a small chuckle of amusement escaping your lips. xavier and wednesday walked up to the cafe bar; xavier's mood seemed to lighten up significantly.

"lovesick fool," you muttered under your breath as they approached, before looking at wednesday confusedly. you placed your arms on the counter and leaned forward. "that happened to pilgrim world?"

"i deserted my post with what little sanity i have left." wednesday peered at your bruised hand for a second, eyes snapping back up to meets yours. "did you beat someone up?"

"she broke some normie's nose," xavier explained, copying your actions as he leaned on the counter. he managed a shadow of a smile as he looked at wednesday, asking, "do you want coffee? i think y/n finally learned how to make something edible."

"i'm sure you know all about edible things, wouldn't you," you grumbled under your breath, making xavier send you a warning glare.

"i'm actually here for tyler."

xavier's lighthearted smile fell at that, the psychic not even trying to hide his obvious discontent. "i told you he was bad news."

you raised a brow at xavier, your previous observation of xavier's immediate dislike of tyler only confirmed by his words. "why is that?" you asked curiously, ignoring wednesday's look.

she didn't seem to agree with xavier's words.

"you told me twice. but who i speak to is my business." wednesday stated, turning to ring the cafe's bell.

xavier's jaw clenched as his eyes trailed down, jealousy overcoming him as he allowed wednesday to talk to who she actually came to the cafe for.

tyler came out from the back, an immediate smile making its way onto his face at the sight of the dreary girl. "you rang?" he asked, making xavier scoff and walk the other way to join you behind the counter.

"you're both horrible," you said matter-of-factly as you cleaned the espresso machine absentmindedly. for someone who was so keen and in touch with her senses, wednesday was completely blind to the fact that the two boys were fawning over her. that, or she just didn't care— you were guessing that it was the latter.

"shut up," xavier grumbled as he walked past you. "don't even start on the thing you always say—"

"what, about just telling her how you feel?" you rolled your eyes, hearing the familiar ding of the door as wednesday made her leave. "i'm giving you sold advice," you took your rag and walked to the sink where xavier was washing some mugs, "and you just keep ignoring it,"

"i don't need advice for this. especially not from a past hookup."

"what, does that matter?" you narrowed your eyes at him as you placed your rag next to the sink.

"and that shit you pulled at the poe cup?" xavier glared at you, his cheeks burning red, "you can't not act like the shit we did that one night was a one time thing when you pulled that on me."

"why are we even talking about this?" you groaned, pinching the bridge of your nose. "it worked. my team won. i was just fucking with you, thorpe."

"right." xavier continued washing the mugs, refusing to look at you as he did. he didn't like you romantically — he didn't think he did, at least.

he was sure it was just enamor. you were attractive and had a certain beauty to you had left him finding himself drawing you time and time again. but your obvious dislike of him was something that couldn't be ignored— especially your avoidance of anything that showed attachment. it wasn't like he was blind. he could see that you constantly kept yourself guarded even when you didn't believe you were. you could be surrounded by enid and wednesday, the two people he was sure that you were friends with, but you wouldn't tell them anything about yourself that wasn't about your long record of trouble or something about school.

wednesday talked about her brother and mother sometimes. enid mentioned her brothers almost daily, especially to xavier; she missed them, but they were a constant reminder that she hadn't wolfed out yet. the most anyone knew about you that wasn't remotely violent was that you was that you liked pottery.

he only eavesdropped a couple times, but it only confirmed his conclusion; in reality, wednesday and enid knew nothing about you. no one did.

"are you going to the dance, y/n?"

you shook your head as you sat stiffly next to xavier in botany. it was an unfortunate accident, honestly; you were late to class one time and you had to sit next to him out of all the people. botany wasn;t you strong suit; you had the opposite of a green thumb. "it's not really my thing. besides— i didn't get asked."

“never took you as someone who wouldn’t ask first,” xavier commented as he leaned down to get his sketchbook. he let out a groan as he grabbed it before placing it on your shared table.

you only shrugged in response, placing your chin on the palm of your hand. absentmindedly, you watched him, asking "what'd you do?"

"i tweaked my back while fencing."

"pay more attention to stretching, then." you narrowed your eyes at some claw marks on his neck. his collar didn't completely cover up the entirety of the wound, making the three claw marks visible under it.

"the orchid produces a pheromone that mimics a female insect.." ms. thornhill explained in the background, but you were too focused on his marks to pay full attention.

"where'd that come from?" you asked, nodding at his neck.

xavier huffed in annoyance, focusing on thornhill ahead of him as he responded. "those images i drew of the monster. my abilities made it come to life and it attacked me."

you didn't seem entirely convinced, but you nodded anyway.

"luring the males in," thornhill continued to move her hands passionately as she spoke, "now, once the plant is pollinated, what do the male insects get in exchange?"

"nada. just like all the guys at the rave'n," bianca said with an amused smile, all the students laughing at her joke.

"okay, okay," thornhill calmed all of you down with her hands and a smile, "i know you're all excited about saturday, which is why i haven't assigned any homework." she paused as sounds of agreement echoed through her conservatory, "but i do still need volunteers for the decorating committee."

hands shot up from around the crowd, your head still boredly on your palm as you observed them.

"anyone interested, come and see me up here."

"you're not gonna volunteer?" xavier asked you teasingly, a smirk gracing his face. "with you being able to fly, i'm sure you can help put some of the disco balls up." he only seemed half serious about his words, but guessing by his teasing tone, he was probably just messing with you. "there's even a dj— mc blood suckaz."

"they have ladders," you replied blankly. "and i'd rather not listen to whatever soundcloud rapper they hired to dj."

xavier chuckled softly to himself at that, watching you begin to pack up your things. he hesitated for a moment as he turned the words he was about to say in his head. but nonetheless, he said them anyway. "it'd be more tolerable if you invited someone. loosen up a little— god knows you need it."

"what's that supposed to mean? aren't you a prude?"

"you're a lot more prudish than me," xavier said in faux seriousness, putting his sketchpad in his bag and standing up. he swung his bag over his shoulder. "but i'm serious— haven't you thought about just asking someone?"

"no. i'd rather fight a war than go," you stated dryly, throwing your own bag over your own shoulder.

dances weren't your thing. a part of you always wanted to be asked to go to a dance— it was nice to be wanted sometimes —but you knew that it would be an overall bad idea. going to the dance was one of the many things that could risk you getting attached to another. and with a humanoid monster running around in the neighboring woods, you didn't want to get attached only to bring their soul up to heaven.

xavier walked away from you, leaving you standing near your desk. you sighed as you readied yourself to leave, only for a hand to come and tap your shoulder.

you turned around, being met with wednesday with thing on her shoulder. "did you see those scratches?" she asked you dryly, and you only nodded, motioning for her to follow you as you walked.

"he said he got it from those drawings he has of the monster— y'know, the one i told you about." you shrugged as you grabbed the straps of your backpack. "i'm not entirely convinced."

"neither am i. is that why we're following him?" wednesday looked further down ahead of the both of you, xavier's tied hair visible over many of the students.

"he always disappears after botany," you sent her a lopsided smile, "aren't you even a least bit curious?"

"i suppose."

the two of you followed xavier into the woods to where an abandoned building was. fortunately, both you and wednesday were knowledgeable in sneaking enough to remain undetected by the artist. your feet were light against the fallen leaves, barely making any loud noises as you came to a stop near the building. xavier slipped into it, disappearing for a few minutes before he came out again with a sketchbook in his hand.

your eyes followed him as he left. you waited for a minute before you and wednesday walked to the building. you opened the door, murmuring, "idiot doesn't even keep it locked," before you walked inside with wednesday close in tow.

xavier had seemingly turned the old building into a studio. the room was littered with art supplies ranging from charcoal, to pencils, to paint. easels were set up further down the room, all of them works in progreess. wednesday pulled down the switch to the light, and finally, you were able to see the images clearly.

almost every single piece of art had the monster on them. its eyes were huge as it stared at you from beyond the paper. its teeth were as sharp as you remember, and you found yourself reminiscing the way it felt when you kicked it away from rowan's dying body.

"every artist needs their muse," you murmured, peering up at the images.

wednesday picked up a few torn pages from xavier's book. "is this what you meant?" she asked you, and you looked over her shoulder and nodded. they were the pages you saw in xavier's book. one of the pages showed the monster in what seemed to be a spiral cave. wednesday immediately folded the pages and shoved them into her backpack. "let's go."

you walked out after wednesday, shutting the door gently behind you. wednesday had already walked back into the woods, and you turned, ready to follow her, only to hear footsteps right behind you.

"y/n?" xavier's voice called out, making you freeze as you turned around.

"thorpe." you responded in greeting, fists clenching and unclenching. oh, how you wished to be in wednesday's position, walking halfway down the woods without having to deal with being caught. "hi."

"hi— what're you doing?" xavier asked you, shoving his hands into his pockets. he looked at you suspiciously, but you forced yourself to play a cool front as you nodded at the studio.

"nothing. i just saw you walk over here; what is this place?" who were you kidding? you had snooped through the entire thing already; you knew exactly what it was. but you had to change the subject.

"it's kind of my private art studio," xavier said, turning to look at the studio before focusing on you again. "after i fixed it and clear it out, weems let me use it."

"that's nice of her. can i look inside?" you asked with a tilt of your head, eyes almost hopeful.

"it's a mess in there. maybe some other time." xavier shook his head. "but why were you looking for me?"

nervousness thrummed through your body as you searched your brain for an excuse. you cleared your throat, leaning back on the balls of your feet. "i wanted to ask about thornhill's homework."

"she didn't give us homework," xavier frowned. "remember?"

oh, you were so fucked. you swallowed thickly, racking your brain for another excuse.

but there was a smile tugging at the corners of xavier's lips. you watched him as he took a step towards you, humming as he pretended to think. "is this about a specific dance on saturday? what did you say again?"

"stop."

"'i'd rather fight a war than go,'" xavier mocked your tone of voice, making you groan. even in a situation like this, he was still so infuriating. but xavier looked like he was having a blast, his cheshire smile only growing. "well, go on. i'm listening."

you sent him a deadpan look. "are you really going to make me say it?"

"oh, absolutely," he was practically ecstatic at this point, seeing you so reluctant to ask the question. xavier grinned at you as you looked away from him.

a weary sigh escaped your lips as you muttered the question quietly.

"say it again?" xavier said, his smile so wide that his dimples were starting to show. he loved seeing you like this; it was so uncharacteristic of you to be so nervous when asking such a simple question. usually, you lacked any kind of filter and said what you wanted. but to see you roll the words in your mouth in preparation of saying it again; the sadistic part in him loved it.

"would you—" you let out a sharp exhale as you stuttered, forcing yourself to look directly into xavier's eyes. "would you think about going to the rave'n dance.."

xavier's eyes drifted up as he pretended to ponder your upcoming question. but the smug smirk on his face remained, which only made you all the more angry that you were in this position in the first place.

"would you go to the rave'n with me?" you forced out through gritted teeth, a sigh of relief escaping you.

xavier chuckled in amusement before nodding. "how kind of you for asking. i'd love to go to the dance with you, y/n. i thought you'd never ask."

"you only want to go because i asked you first."

"yeah, but it was completely worth it," xavier laughed, making you roll your eyes and turn away from him. with that, you walked away, fully ready to tell wednesday of your predicament.

you returned to your room, face burning red as you shut the door behind you and announced to your roommates blankly, "i'm going to the rave'n with xavier."

wdenesday almost wanted to laugh.

"oh my god— y/n odinsdottir is going to the rave'n?" enid squealed, jumping out of her bed to grab you by the shoulders. you only let her, standing stiffly as she shook you.

"how did you get yourself into that predicament?" wednesday asked flatly, looking up from her desk to look at you.

"he arrived after you left the studio," you grumbled, ignoring enid's squeal. "i had to come up with something to not seem suspicious."

"stick close to him. it'll give us a chance to have more intel," wednesday stated, making you shrug.

you weren't one to use people for information, but with the abundance in murders in the woods and the fact that you didn't want to go to the dance inthe first place, you couldn't help but agree. besides; the quicker you got the monster, the less lives would be lost. "sure, why not."

"you know that you need?" enid asked, clapping her hands together in realization.

"revenge."

"a dress!"

you shifted uncomfortably at the idea. but enid was right; you had no dresses. you liked them, sure, but you haven't worn one in ages. the idea of it was kind of nerve-racking. you sighed, officially giving up as you nodded. "you're right, i do."

"wednesday— you and thing have to come along with us! we need opinions!" enid practically skipped over to her bag, throwing it over her shoulder.

"you already know that the answer is no. why are you even asking?" wednesday said drearily, watching the overly ecstatic girl practically jump around the room.

"because y/n will be miserable trying out all those dresses!" enid said casually, sending you a quick apologetic smile. "sorry, y/n."

you could only sigh in exasperation. "it's the thought that counts. i guess."

"i suppose i wouldn't mind seeing y/n in some misery." wednesday stood up abruptly, thing climbing onto her shoulder. "i'll come along."

"oh my god, this is like a girl's day!" enid hooked her arms under wednesday's, practically dragging her over to you. "i can't believe that excuse actually made you want to go."

you didn't know what to expect when enid dragged you to a store called 'hawte kewture.' the obvious lack of care for spelling and punctuation already made you cringe inwardly; you weren't even inside yet.

"isn't this exciting?" enid asked, grinning wildly, "our first roomie shopping spree! the dance committee's suggesting all white to match the theme, but that's not gonna fly with us."

"i'd literally rather do anything but worry about a dress for a dance i don't want to go to," you grumbled, your grumpiness doing nothing to deter enid's positivity.

"i have more pressing matters to attend to." with that, wednesday left, not even listening to enid's complain of, 'but we were bonding!'

"she has a lot to deal with, i guess," you mumbled, slightly envious as enid pulled you into the shop after yoko, divina, and their friend. the shop was as bright as it was on the outside, and while you could certainly see its appeal for someone like enid, it just wasn't your taste. the entire area was full of pastel colors, and while their dress collection was wide, you were sure that you really had to look for a dress you'd like.

"y/n. i heard you asked xavier to the dance," yoko said as you and enid walked up to her. her arm was around divina, and she sent you a fanged smile.

"i did," you said though gritted teeth. curse nevermore students and their huge tendency to gossip. "i really hate how gossip spreads that quickly."

"i mean, it was kind of weird news to hear," enid said as you all walked to a rack. her hands began to look through the dresses that hung on the clothesrack as she continued, "you and xavier have been at each other's throats since the moment you two met. and the fact that you asked him!" enid laughed to herself, "i've never been more proud!"

"thanks. i think." you absentmindedly looked through the dresses. all of them weren't your style, and you only looked on boredly as you swiped through each one.

for an hour, you watched the others find their dresses. each of them would try their options on and do a faux catwalk for you out of the changing room, only to be fired down by your opinions. you tried to be as honest as possible— they did ask you to, after all —and you guessed that this was a fitting scenario to be brutally honest.

enid did have to tell you to lower the ante on the brutally part.

but as you sat there on the sofa chair the employees had kindly provided for you, you found yourself close to giving up. that is, until your eyes landed on a dress on a mannequin.

it was a golden, nearly off the shoulder dress that flowed down beautifully. its shoulders were cut out, but the arm sleeves were cut open to reveal a silky cloth that fell all the way down. there was a loosely tied silk belt around the waist, and a deeper gold thread acted as an intricate design in the middle of the dress. you walked up and observed it closer, looking at the back of the dress. it dipped enough to show off your back tattoo.

"this dress would be perfect, y/n!" enid said excitedly as she came up behind you. "it's the perfect shade of gold and won't stand in too much, and screams 'look at me!' you should try it on."

"so where are we putting the murder board?" you asked wednesday as you hung your dress up in your closet. the pitter patter of thing's fingers came your way, and you looked down and managed a small smile. "it's nice, right? i got it yesterday."

"it's very fitting," thing signed in response. "are you excited?"

"gods, no." you laughed, brushing off some dust from the dress. "i'd rather be anywhere but there."

you were just looking at it as an excuse to dress up and look pretty. it was also an excuse to gain more information out of xavier; there was something up with him, you had to admit that.

there was nothing else going on besides that.

"we're keeping at eugene's beekeeping quarters." wednesday held the board in her hands, glancing into your closet. "i see you actually found something to wear. was the process as miserable as enid said it would be?"

"it was the only dress i tried on. the others were revolting." you picked up the photos from wednesday's bed, along with a small box of tacks.

truthfully, you hadn't gone out to eugene's beekeeping quarters ever since you arrived at nevermore. you talked to eugene occasionally— you found it interesting that he could casually control bees as though they were nothing, and his personality was a little quirky, but you didn't mind. he was just a kid.

"y/n! you finally came out here," eugene said with a bright smile, fixing the scarf wrapped around his neck.

"just here to help wednesday with the murder board," you said with a shrug, managing a small smile. "how's the honey?"

"here!" eugene handed you a small mason jar full of honey. "i know you ran out the last time i gave you some, so i got you a bigger batch!"

"thank you," you said sincerely, a rare, genuine smile making its way onto your face at his kindness. you had told him previously that you liked to mix honey in with your tea on gloomy days, and now you had an endless supply of honey.

"i assume this is the creature that's been rampaging the woods?" eugene asked, pointing towards one of xavier's art pieces.

"you've heard about it before?" wednesday asked.

"just rumors. i'm banned from bug hunting until further notice," eugene turned to you, his toothy grin wide as he continued, "i heard you kicked it!"

"i did," you squinted at the photos of all the victims. you could almost feel the pain they were in; your abilities only allowed you to bring souls that were under a war, or someone who died in a fight. the victims of the monsters were unsuspecting. there was no war when they were killed; they were killed for fun.

but because you were technically an an angel, you could easily feel the anguish they experienced prior to their deaths. almost none of them had any idea that they would be killed so quickly and so brutally. they died in confusion and shock.

"mr. fitts claimed that a bear was on the loose, but i knew it was a lie— it didn't match their hibernation schedules." eugene's eyes raised when he remembered something, and he turned around to bring out another mason jar of honey. "speaking of monsters with sharp claws, could you give this to your roomie?" he handed it to wednesday, who only looked at it blankly. "i hear she's still sans date for the rave'n."

"eugene," wednesday said in a warning tone. you hid your chuckles behind a quick cough.

"i know the chances of her asking me are next to zero, but i don't care!" the poor boy was so optimistic that you had to fully turn your attention to the murder board to stop yourself from letting him down easily.

maybe you were getting a hang of not being too brutally honest.

"i'll continue to put myself out there until enid finally.. sees me," eugene sighed a lovesick sigh.

"and if she never does?" wednesday asked judgementally, a hint of jealousy in her tone. how unusual was it that the usual stone cold wednesday seemed only mildly perturbed that a kid wanted to ask enid out?"

"i'm playing the long game," eugene responded confidently, making another chuckle leave your lips. "my moms say people will appreciate me when i'm older. they're probably just trying to make me feel better."

poor kid.

"i know you're going to the rave'n, y/n. how did you end up asking xavier?" eugene asked innocently, but you only groaned in response.

"gods, this again. i had to ask him because wednesday and i got caught investigating," your mood soured at the reminder of having to go to the dance with xavier. if he thought that you were dressing up for him, he was as stupid as you thought. "i have ulterior motives, though."

"that sucks, but at least you have a date!" eugene said with that usual nonstop optimism of his. "but wednesday, are you not going to the rave'n?"

"no. everything on this murder board is far more pressing than a school dance." wednesday crossed her arms over her chest as she gazed at xavier's art. "sketches are the closest thing i have to a lead to try and stop this thing."

"that spiral thing the monster's standing on," eugene said, squinting through his glasses. "i think i know where that is."

eugene led you both to a huge spiral cave, the dark void inside doing nothing to calm the goosebumps you received upon your arrival. the entire thing felt like it had horrible negative energy and the feeling of eyes watching you never ceased. hesitantly, you let your sword appear, the metal glinting in the soft sunlight. you gripped the familiar handle as you began to walk closer to the cave with the both of them behind you.

"don't worry, y/n! i'm sure we'll be able to help you if the monster is in here!" eugene chuckled nervously, following close behind your form.

"do you see anything?" wednesday asked you, but as you peered into the deep hole, you found nothing but darkness.

"no." you shook your head, "we'd have to go in if we wanted to find something."

"i can't go in there." eugene shook his head rapidly, stepping back from the cave. "i'm claustrophobic."

you were already going into the cave, your steps careful at the steep entrance and your head bowed low. wednesday looked at eugene. "if you hear us screaming bloody murder, i'm probably enjoying it. y/n, not so much." with that, the turned back to the cave and went after you.

eugene sighed before following closely behind wednesday.

the den of the cave was a lot wider and taller than its entrance. you looked down at the bones that were near your feet. you were thankful that they were deer bones.

eugene's flashlight landed on a pair of chains that hung on the wall of the cave. you reached forward with your sword and moved it. your sword went up to trace the scratched that were on the wall of the cave, your lips tugging into a frown. "these chains are strong, but not strong enough," you thought out loud.

"yahtzee." wednesday crouched down to pull a claw out of a crack in the cave. "this will be our concrete proof to the sheriff," she said to you.

that was how you found yourself at xavier's studio yet again, looking around xavier's trash bin. it was wednesday's plan, but you offered to go inside instead of her; you probably had more leeway. so while you were inside, wednesday was out in the bushes, and thing was keeping watch near the door.

one of your hands held a ziplock bag as you used a paintbrush to poke around his trash. a victorious smile tugged at your lips when you found a bloodied rag at the very bottom. "gotcha."

the sound of the door creaking made you quickly put the napkin in the ziplock bag and pocket it, your body turning away form the trash. you were face to face with xavier, who only seemed shocked that you were inside.

"the hell are you doing in here?" xaiver asked, obviously annoyed by your sudden entrance.

"are you sure that the monster's just been in your visions?" you asked him, looking at the huge canvases dedicated to one monster. "or are these self portraits?"

"you cannot be serious right now," xavier laughed bitterly, but you continued on, taking a step towards him.

"you saved wednesday's life once. the monster was attacking rowan when he was attacking wednesday— it practically saved her." your tone was becoming more accusatory by the second, your brows knotting together as the pieces began to fall into place.

"this is literally the painting that came to life and swiped at me," xavier nodded to a nearby canvas of an unfinished painting of the monster. "cmon, y/n. i've explained myself to you so many times—"

"and the lair in the woods?" you asked, cocking your head to the side. "from one of your sketchbooks. you drew the monster in its lair, thorpe."

xavier's face contorted into a pained expression. he wasn't sure what he expected from you; a part of him did think that your ask was genuine. it was all too complicated for him to explain— it was like he liked that you asked him but didn't at the same time. it was all too much of a mess to make any sense of it, but as he stood in front of you while you interrogated him, it suddenly all made sense.

"you were in here. god, of course," xavier laughed in disbelief, "when i caught you outside. you were just snooping around in here." he shook his head to himself, the overall disbelief being too much to comprehend. "you were just gonna use me, weren't you?"

"gods, no—"

"no, you were," xavier hissed, "what were you gonna go to the dance with me and ask me for more info? is that it, so that you and wednesday can prove i'm the monster? i've explained myself enough for you both to believe me."

"it's nothing personal, thorpe, jesus christ."

he chuckled darkly to himself, his voice raising as he said, "nothing is ever personal with you, y/n," he spat, the comment making your facade fall for a second. "no one knows anything genuine about you. your roommates barely know a thing about you because you're so fucking guarded all the time! do you even care about anyone or anything that isn't even remotely violent?"

you swallowed thickly, your mouth opening to defend yourself before xavier continued to speak.

"all you know is war."

he didn't understand.

"fuck you," you seethed, shoving past him as you made your way out of the studio. you walked towards where wednesday was hidden in the bushed, her expression blank as usual as you gave her the bloodied rag. without another word, you walked back to your dorm.

xavier's words echoed in your head as you walked, your throat feeling constricted as you swallowed thickly.

all you know is war.

"fucking stupid," you muttered under your breath, angry tears slipping out of your eyes that you harshly wiped.

in a way, you knew that xavier was right.

it wasn't like you could help it— you were quite literally an angel of war —but you also knew that that wasn't an excuse for it all. your second eldest sister, eir, was millennia years old, and yet she was the most peaceful out of your siblings. whenever a disagreement would break out, she was there to help. whenever brunhilde and your father, odin, fought, eir was the one who stepped in.

she was a peacemaker as much as she was wonderful at her job. you always heard stories about her from your sisters; she never fought a war that she had tried to previously avoid.

you wished you were like her.

you turned a different corridor from where your dorm was located, finding yourself standing in front of weem's office door. taking a deep breath, you knocked. weems' muffled, 'come in!' made you open the door.

"y/n." weems seemed as shocked as you to find you standing at her doorway. her eyesbrows were raised high above her forehead as you shut the door behind you and walked towards her briskly.

"i need you," you swallowed thickly again. gods, you hated crying. "i need you to burn those old documents. the ones about my foster homes."

"you and i both know that i can't do that, y/n." weems' voice was calm as she placed her hands on her desk, clasping them together. "are you alright, dear?"

"i'm fine," you forced out, sniffing harshly, "i just— please, just burn them. get rid of them. anything."

weems sighed, bringing out your folder. she brought out the forms from your orphanage, all paperclipped together neatly. in the front was a photo of you when you were younger; barely 7, with two missing teeth missing as you smiled at the polaroid camera.

"i cannot burn these forms, y/n."

"they have everything about me that i've moved on from," your words were so quick that they seemed to mold together. you were frantic at this point, yet you took a deep breath to calm yourself. "my sisters had those forms terminated because i wanted to forget that part of my life."

"you cannot easily forget 13 years of your life, y/n," weems said concernedly, "it will be a part of you for the rest of your life."

"i don't want it to be," you spat bitterly, eyes burning with tears again as you practically pleaded with her. "i've worked so hard to forget that part of my life, so please. burn them."

"i cannot do that, y/n." weems was firm with her decision, which only made you sniff again, harshly wiping your nose.

you left weems' office abruptly, your obviously turmoiled mind making you go to the archery range. it was dark outside now, but you still found yourself stretching your wings out and flying over jericho. the cold air whipped your face as you tried to ignore xavier's words that still repeated like a mantra in your head.

all you know is war.

you were flying for hours it seemed, too deep in your thoughts to force yourself to return to your dorm. but you had to admit that it was a beautiful night; the full moon was out tonight, and you heard the distant howling of wolves in the forest. the stars were shining as bright as ever over your head as you flew.

flying gave you peace.

the next morning, you begrudgingly approached wednesday and eugene, both in deep conversation about the monster in the quad.

"y/n— we're going to stake out the cave and identify the monster." eugene said, obviously much too excited to be doing something dangerous. "oh wait; i forgot you were going to the dance."

"not anymore," you stated dryly, hands holding onto the straps of your backpack. you glanced at eugene and wednesday and shook your head. "i'm not gonna explain." you looked over at xavier, who was working on his raven mural. he glanced at you only briefly before focusing on his mural again.

that night, you shoved on a black backless longsleeve as you got ready to stake out with eugene. you had to be ready in case anything happened; you brought your sharpest knives and packed snacks to keep yourself full of energy. you put on an black leather jacket over your clothes, turning to wednesday, who was also getting ready.

the jacket was your father's. it was one of the few things he had given you the last time he saw you.

a knock on the door made you turn your head, wednesday yelling, "coming eugene!" as she walked over.

"hey, did you grab any extra batteries for the flash—tyler." her voice died in her throat when she saw the barista standing at the doorway.

"tyler?" you peeked over the side of the door, eyebrows raising when you saw the boy's all-white getup and the corsage in his hands. "wednesday, i thought you weren't going to the dance," you said cautiously, sending the pigtailed girl a look.

"i got your invite," tyler stammered, holding up an envelope. "i'm guessing you had thing drop it in the tip jar?"

you snorted as you returned to packing your things, thing climbing up your bed as they made a sign that looked a lot like laughing. "it was you, wasn't it?" you asked amusedly, and thing nodded proudly.

"good guess." wednesday forced out, and you chuckled to yourself as their conversation died into the background.

"are you sure you're not going to the dance?" thing asked you, making you sigh as you shoved your flashlight into your backpack.

"i'm staying away from socializing for a while," you said in response, eyes cold as you finally zipped up your backpack. "it's prbably for the best."

"that sounds like the opposite of what you should do," thing signed.

"it's whatever. my sisters were right, anyway." the door shut on tyler as wednesday quickly walked to her closet, obviously bothered by thing's interference.

"genuine and sweet? how could you do this to me?" wednesday asked, fully betrayed by thing as she rummaged through her closet. "can you believe it, y/n? he actually believed i would write a sweet letter— how oblivious."

"truly." you glanced at thing as they pointed at a dress on wednesday's bed. it was a beautifully gothic dress, one that you were sure was made for wednesday, but you found yourself frowning. "are you not gonna stake out with eugene and i?"

"no, i can't. not after what thing pulled—"

"c'mon wednesday, just admit that you wanna go with tyler to the dance," you groaned, throwing your backpack over your back. "i'm gonna head out. don't do anything i wouldn't do."

the entire main entryway of nevermore was decked out for the rave'n. white cloth hung from the different entrances, and light up trees created a frame over doorways. people passed by you left and right, all dressed in complete white for the occasion.

you walked by bianca and xavier, xavier's eyes avoiding yours just as easily as you avoided his.

"where's wednesday?" eugene asked you as you walked down the steps. he was just as ready as you were, dressed in multiple layers and with his backpack practically bulging with what you knew were snacks.

"she decided to go to the dance. it'll just be us tonight," you said eugene, fixing the straps of your backpack. you watched his face fall, and you nudged him to try and lighten the mood. "it'll be okay. wednesday rarely willingly goes to events like the rave'n; she can sit this stake out out."

"it was her idea, though." eugene said sadly, following you as you walked out of the building.

you walked out into the woods with eugene, the night air cold against your face as you twirled a knife in your hand absentmindedly. thankfully, it seemed to be a pretty quiet night, as the only sounds were coming from the crickets and the wind.

"do you two really think that xavier is the mosnter?" eugene asked you as he pulled his second granola bar out of his backpack, opening it and taking a bite.

"he's a suspect. that's all." the cave came into view, and you crouched down near a nearby tree. "we can stay here." you made yourself comfortable as you leaned up against the tree, eugene sitting next to you.

he pulled out a recorder and began to talk into it. "eugene ottinger and—" he motioned for you to speak into it, and you sighed as you moved your head closer.

"y/n odinsdottir."

"2100 hours," eugene continued, "no movement at the cave. no sign of the target." the sound of a rather large grasshopper rang in his ears, and he smiled fondly. "although, i just heard a rare club-horned grasshopper."

you smiled softly to yourself as you listened to him. he reminded you a lot of the friends you made at your foster homes; all of them were bright and intelligent kids, all with their own specific interests that they never stopped talking about. when you were younger, you liked to listen to them. but depending on the house, they often lacked the freedom to speak so freely of their interests.

people weren't kind.

you both sat comfortably for nearly 2 hours, talking occasionally to each other. eugene was too busy snacking to talk most of the time, and when he did talk, he talked about bees and bugs. you swore you never met someone who could tell you the scientific name for practically every bug imaginable. sometimes, he even left your post to catch rare bugs.

"do you like, understand nordic?"

eugene's question made you snap out of your little bubble, your head turning away from the cave to glance at him.

"old norse, yeah," you replied, managing a tight lipped smile. "it's kind of automatic; comes with the whole valkyrie thing."

"that's so cool! i mean, i wish i could talk a whole other language. one some people might be able to understand, not just bees," eugene said casually. he had caught a bug moment before, and he was staring at it as he spoke.

your eyes drifted back to the cave, squinting as a car pulled up nearby it. you shushed eugene, your hand reaching for one of your knives.

"eugene ottinger and y/n odinsdottir. 22:42 hours." eugene whispered behind you as you grabbed some binoculars to look closer. usually you'd rely on your heightened eyesight, but you needed to gather as much evidence of the suspect as you could. "potential subject has arrived at location."

your brows knotted together as you watched the figure light something on fire and throw it into the cave. but suddenly, the figure's flashlight flashed towards you and eugene, the sudden brightness blinding you from seeing their face. but you felt like something was wrong, because right as the figure turned away and ran, you immediately turned around, your wings appearing to surround you and eugene.

the sound of an explosion made your ears ring, your arms wrapping around eugene tightly to keep him within the bubble of your wings. the fire was hot against your feathers as you waited for a second before letting eugene go. "we need to go. now."

eugene nodded frantically before the both of you ran back to nevermore. you let eugene run ahead of you, fearful that whoever was behind you would get to him first. you grabbed eugene, pulling him aside behind a tree. you raised your finger to your lips before whispering to him.

"i'm gonna carry you and fly out of here, got it?" you asked, and eugene could only nod quickly. your arms wrapped around eugene, ready to fly, until a pained groan left your lips.

long claws dug into your wings, staining the white of your wings red. the air was torn out of you as the monster lifted you up, your kicking doing nothing as you were lifted by the end of your wings.

you were horrified when you looked at eugene, who had a very faint golden glow around him.

when a glow was faint, that meant it was only up to the gods to decide whether or not he would survive.

"run!" you yelled at eugene, who quickly snapped out of his trance to run further towards nevermore.

you were held up in front of the monster, too far away from its body to make genuine damage. it was intelligent enough to know that it had to keep you from looking at it; being face to face with it would mean you could bring genuine damage. drops of your blood dropped onto the forest floor as the claws dug deeper into your back and your wings. you could feel the warm liquid seep down your back. you grabbed your made your sword appear, forcefully reaching behind you as you sliced the monster's arm.

but it did nothing to deter it. if anything, it only angered it more, its roar ringing wildly in your ears. it swatted your sword away with its free hand, making it land far away from you.

the monster used its free hand to grab your desperately flapping wings, taking one of them and bending them in half with a sickening crack.

and with that, you let out a bloodcurdling scream. it was as though someone had broken your spine and your leg all at once; the pain shot through your body like poison, and you found yourself sobbing as the pain seared you.

the monster reached for your other wing, which flapped twice as hard as you tried to escape its hold. but its claws were hooked into your skin and the roots of your wings, stopping you from fully escaping.

another scream left your lips as your other wing broke in half, the pain stabbing you yet again.

the wings, the only thing that ever gave you peace, were lifeless as the monster slammed you into the ground. the monster was smart enough to slam you back first into the cold ground, making you let out another scream as your clawed back and your broken wings harshly met the dirt.

your anguished screams echoed through the woods, reaching the ears of a running wednesday as she made her way down the forest. she had seen everything happen in her vision and was too panicked to tell others as she ran towards you and eugene.

but xavier was following behind her. he had lost sight of her ages ago, but your screams made his heart thump faster as he ran further into the woods.

eugene's cry for help made you try and sit up, a gut wrenching cry leaving your lips at the pain that shot harshly through your body. you couldn't get up— you were far too weak and losing far too much blood to fully raise your body.

"y/n?" xavier's yell made you try and sit up again, to no avail. your wings were limp on your back and too damaged to the point that you couldn't even fold them back into your back.

"xavier? xavier!" you yelled loudly, frantically looking around you. but all you saw were the tall trees and the darkness that surrounded you.

but xavier saw you before you saw him. you were on the ground, your wings bent horrifically around you as you tried to sit up again, a pained cry leaving your lips. you were able to get up, but the blood still seeped out of you like a leaking faucet.

"y/n, stop," xavier rushed towards you, trying to make you lay down, only for you to try and push him off with a bloodied hand. you didn't even ask why he was covered in what you saw was fake blood, the adrenaline making you too frantic as you shoved his hands away. "what happened?!"

"eugene. where's eugene?" you asked as xavier tried to make you stay seated. your eyes burned with tears as you looked around you for the kid, desperation in your tone as you shoved xavier again. "xavier, where's eugene?" your voice cracked as you put your hands on the forest floor and tried to put yourself up, only for xavier to stop you.

"y/n, you cannot get up. we need to get you help—"

"where's eugene?!" you snapped, tears shining as your eyes met xaviers. he swore that he never wanted to see you like that again; your voice breaking as you spoke, blood staining your face and nothing but desperation in your face.

"wednesday probably found him." xavier's eyes widened as you tried to stand up again. he put his hands on your shoulders. "can you just care about your health for one second?!"

"i can't," you cried out, shoving his hands off of your shoulders. yet again you tried to get up, but xavier put his hands on your shoulders and stopped you again. "i couldn't protect him," you cried, still trying to push xavier off of you. "stop stopping me xavier!"

"you did everything you could, y/n, please," xavier begged. he grabbed your head and held you to his chest as you sobbed. you tried to punch him away, your hits against his back and stomach still relatively strong. but you were too weak to fight anymore, your hands falling at your sides as you cried into his chest. tears dripped down xavier's eyes as he listened to your pain. he felt your arms slowly wrap around him, gripping his shirt in your hands.

"i couldn't protect him. he had the glow and i couldn't protect him," you sobbed, feeling xavier hold you tighter as you continued to cry. you felt his hand brush your hair down as you sobbed.

you sobbed for eugene, the kid you told yourself you would protect, now equally as mauled as you were. you sobbed for how weak you were against a monster; you should've done more. you sobbed for your wings, how they laid lifeless next to you as you cried like a child.

"i tried. i really tried," you whimpered.

in your mind, you should've tried harder. if you weren't so focused on making sure eugene was safe then you would've been able to save him.

"i know, y/n. i know." xavier swallowed thickly as his eyes drifted to your limp wings, lifeless on the forest ground. one of the bones was protruding out of your skin, blood dripping down the wound. your once pure white wings were stained crimson under the moonlight.

you turned your head to try and look at them, only for xavier to keep your head to his heaving chest. "don't." he said softly.

you tried to move them, but you couldn't feel anything but pain. "no, no, no," you tried to move them again, groaning in pain as you did, but they wouldn't move. "why can't they move? xavier, why can't they move—" you were frantic, and all xavier could do was hold you.

ACT V, ACT VI

#AUTHORSNOTE— xavier and the reader are so the neighborhood and arctic monkeys coded it's crazy. thank you for reading, and the next part will be out asap bc i'm excited to write it

#TAGLIST— @gamorxa @rayliz793 @cali-888 @targaryensswp @hopefulfuturenovelauthor @just-amess @maystecc @cmac-writes @ahnneyong @importantpuppyshark @mannstarkey @alienm0vie @carinacassiopeiae @simonsbluee @g3org1al33 @killmewithafanfic @nattheartless13 @astrynyx @idontknowwhattodo35 @addisonnie @wxnderingthoughts @r1dd1kulus @smol-book-nerd @555stargirl555 @wonderlandco @siriuslysmoking @skye231 @boomitsallie1 @southernraven @buckleylips @yunoguns @theprettytragic @levylovegood @slut4fictionalcharacters28

[mins-fins]

≡;- ꒰ °𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃 𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐇𝐄𝐄𝐋𝐒 ꒱

a kim gyuvin smau

⟡   ֺ   𓂂 SYNOPSIS ⋆ kim gyuvin has never been the best when it comes to science. every grade he's gotten in that class has been average at best, sometimes even lower than average. how he's passed middle school, and the first three years of high school is beyond him, and everyone in his life as well. after he fails his first science exam of the year, his teacher decides that the best thing to do is to assign him a tutor, but there are two problems with that. number one, gyuvin has the attention span of a fly, and number two, his tutor is insanely cute and he desperately wants to ask him out.

⟡   ֺ   𓂂 PAIRING ⋆ kim gyuvin x male!reader

⟡   ֺ   𓂂 GENRE ⋆ high school au, social media au, classmates to lovers, comedy (i'm unfunny sorry), fluff, angst, smart mf x dumb mf

⟡   ֺ   𓂂 WARNINGS ⋆ much swearing, kys/kms jokes, mentions of smoking, jokes about mental illness, homophobia, leehan of BOYNEXTDOOR as y/n's fc

⟡   ֺ   𓂂 FEATURING ⋆ zerobaseone members (mainly maknae line). boys planet contestants. enhypen (jungwon & ni-ki). ive (rei & liz). newjeans (minji & hanni). stayc (yoon & j).

⟡   ֺ   𓂂 STATUS ⋆ discontinued.

⟡   ֺ   𓂂 PROFILES ⋆ the dinner club | yujin parent association

⟡   ֺ   𓂂 TABLE OF CONTENTS ꜜ

˖ ݁  𓂃 one ⋆ a big fat zero!!!

˖ ݁  𓂃 two ⋆ crushy wushy

˖ ݁  𓂃 three ⋆ #1 ricky hater

˖ ݁  𓂃 four ⋆ gyuvin's (un)successful rizz

˖ ݁  𓂃 five ⋆ the awkwardness is awkwarding

˖ ݁  𓂃 six ⋆ dogs know all

˖ ݁  𓂃 seven ⋆ shoot your shot

˖ ݁  𓂃 eight ⋆ boyfriends?

˖ ݁  𓂃 nine ⋆ oh you are so down bad

˖ ݁  𓂃 ten ⋆ cinnamon girl by lana del rey

˖ ݁  𓂃 eleven ⋆ three in the fucking morning

˖ ݁  𓂃 twelve ⋆ operation boyfriend is a go!!!

˖ ݁  𓂃 thirteen ⋆ delusion is dangerous

˖ ݁  𓂃 fourteen ⋆ minji's pantry

˖ ݁  𓂃 fifteen ⋆ never ending beef

˖ ݁  𓂃 sixteen ⋆ would've, could've, should've

˖ ݁  𓂃 sixteen ⋆ NO FIBBING ON THE INTERNET‼️

˖ ݁  𓂃 seventeen ⋆ kim gyurizz 😨???

˖ ݁  𓂃 eighteen ⋆ losing the idgaf war

˖ ݁  𓂃 nineteen ⋆ i hate tall, handsome men

˖ ݁  𓂃 twenty ⋆ gyuvin's successful rizz

˖ ݁  𓂃 epilogue ⋆ eumppappa solos

⟡   ֺ   𓂂 TAGLIST (closed) ꜜ

˖ ݁  𓂃 @jinkiseason, @i520u, @junjiie, @elaineas-elysian, @purikkura, @big-uwu-stan, @sirenologies, @cowsidfk, @kpoprhia, @bbangricz, @samudan, @solarwoniii, @stvrboy-k, @gunwookiez, @planethyuka

[jedimaesteryoda]

Serra was Illyrio’s second wife, a sex slave from a pleasure house in Lys, and likely Aegon’s actual mother. She was a Blackfyre in the War of the Roses parallel of Margaret Beaufort, likely Daemon IV’s daughter sold into slavery after Maelys’s coup. 

Serra’s story sounds much similar to Daenerys’s: a young girl of Targaryen blood in Essos whose (proclaimed) royal father was deposed by a distant cousin, and then sold into marriage as part of a plan to take the Iron Throne. 

She did succeed in having a living son unlike Daenerys, but she never got to see him grow up as Illyrio states about her tragic death:

"A Braavosi trading galley called at Pentos on her way back from the Jade Sea. The Treasure carried cloves and saffron, jet and jade, scarlet samite, green silk … and the grey death. We slew her oarsmen as they came ashore and burned the ship at anchor, but the rats crept down the oars and paddled to the quay on cold stone feet. The plague took two thousand before it ran its course." Magister Illyrio closed the locket. "I keep her hands in my bedchamber. Her hands that were so soft …"

I think just as he doesn’t mention the actual details of her identity and the reason Illyrio married, he also may have been fibbing about her death. The best lies have bits of truth, the truth being the grey plague likely may have happened at the time. Note, he mentions that a plague came to Pentos, yet he doesn’t state that Serra herself got sick. 

At the end of the chapter, Tyrion sings a song by Symon Silvertongue threatening to reveal his secret about the sex worker who became his mistress, Shae. Shae herself (understandbly given her situation) betrayed him, and he would end up killing that very woman with the gold hands of the Hand's chain.

"A Braavosi trading galley called at Pentos on her way back from the Jade Sea. The Treasure

For she was his secret treasure

"I keep her hands in my bedchamber. Her hands that were so soft …"

For hands of gold are always cold, but a woman's hands are warm

Just where was the galley headed? As Illyrio said, it was on its way back to its home port of Braavos, a historical refuge for escaped slaves. 

Cutting off body parts with the tongues removed for little birds is part of Illyrio and Varys’s modus operandi, but it must be noted that the cutting off of one’s hands is the common punishment for thieves. What did Serra try to steal?

The thing of most value to Illyrio and Varys: Aegon.

While Illyrio and Varys were all in on the plan to crown Aegon, just what were Serra’s thoughts on it? The plan involved taking her young son from her for perhaps indefinitely to be raised by strangers to pursue the Iron Throne, a quest that has only resulted in death and disaster for her family.

Serra may have tried to run away with an infant Aegon to Braavos. Illyrio’s house slaves may even have helped her escape. Of course, Varys and Illyrio found out and stopped her, killing the crew on the ship. They would have been undoubtedly mad that she almost undid years of planning, and she likely threatened to reveal their secrets as a desperate last attempt. By that point, she had given birth to Aegon and fulfilled her part in the plan, so they didn’t need her anymore. 

They likely killed Serra, and Illyrio kept her hands as a memento. Serra was used a brood mare for her house's cause and when she tried to exercise some agency, she was murdered.

[crissiebaby]

The Padded Palace Act IV: Chapter 17

DISCLAIMER: This story contains diaper usage, crossdressing, inappropriate language, humiliation, masturbation/diaper sex, and other ABDL themes. I hope you enjoy!

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“Ya know, I don’t think I’ve ever been in here before,” said Stacy, eying up Latasha’s private office and tea room. It was oddly foreign considering the amount of time she spent in the Padded Palace on a weekly basis. Much like Latasha’s bedroom, the mature environment was almost completely devoid of ABDL furnishings, “Feels too…normal…to be the Padded Palace.”

Plopping down at her desk heavily, Latasha wasn’t exactly in the mood to discuss the layout of her house. “You try being audited while claiming that daycare is an office space. See how far it gets you,” she said, shutting down Stacy’s idle speculation before it could overrun the conversation, “Why don’t we cut the chatter and get to the chase? The Padded Palace is meant to be a safe kink space, for patrons and employees. Blackmail is not kosher here. Period.”

“Oh, yeah, and I’m sure kinkless Connor over there who needed Riri to make him a DeviantArt account really chose to wear that pull-up to Ellie’s party on his own, right?” quipped Stacy, reminding Latasha of how she acquired her blackmailing materials in the first place. She smirked at the elongated silence her one question created, “Lemme make a wild guess. Buddy Boy got curious and tried out some freaky stuff during his first week. You found out and decided to keep his little secret so long as he let you continue to treat him like your own, personal dress-up doll from that point onward. But yeah…blackmail isn’t kosher here.”

Scrunching her lips together, Latasha couldn’t deny there was some truth to what Stacy was saying even if the comparison was extensively stretched. Had she not commanded Connor to stay padded for Ellie’s birthday, Stacy likely would’ve never found out. “You’re conflating a willing agreement between two parties with forcing someone to bend to your will. I never made Connor do anything he didn’t want to,” she said, knowing her defense was only a half-truth. Memories of Connor bursting into tears after waking up in full ABDL attire for the first time surfaced in the forefront of her mind.

Unfortunately for Stacy, she had no means of debunking Latasha’s fib, pushing her to pivot. “Be that as it may, it was still a means of keeping him under your thumb for the last two months. I’m sure it felt no different from Connor’s point of view,” she said, aiming to amplify any doubt potentially lingering in Latasha’s head. It wasn’t a fool-proof strategy but it didn’t need to be; its only purpose was to put Latasha on her back foot before attacking her weakest point, “It’s funny, though. If Connor could see the REAL you, I doubt he would’ve been intimidated for a second.”

Turning her head sideways, Latasha was at a loss. “Th-the REAL me? Care to elaborate?” she asked snidely. She had no clue what Stacy was on about but her curiosity was morbidly peaked.

“I mean the REAL Latasha; the one with a crinkly butt and doe eyes begging for someone to dote on her,” said Stacy, her words delivered slowly and methodically to ensure maximum humiliation, “You may have the others fooled but my eyes are open after this weekend. I know everything.”

Sweat droplets pooled beneath Latasha’s hairline. Stacy couldn’t possibly know about the incident at CrissCon. The only other person in the Palace who knew was Skye, and Skye ran upstairs the moment they got home. Moreover, the idea of Skye blabbing about something she was in tears over no less than half a day earlier felt immensely far-fetched. Letting out a strained chuckle, she deflected, “Oh-ho-kay, I think the outfit’s officially gone to your head. I don’t know what you think you know about me but it takes a lot more than some flustering words to make me blush-”

“You can stop acting. I saw it with my own eyes,” said Stacy bluntly, once again freezing Latasha with a verbal quick draw. It was a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it moment but right before the alleged Big laughed, her eyes twitched with fear. She had Latasha right where she wanted her. All she needed to do was stay on the offensive until she got her to crack.

Little did Stacy know how paralyzing her vague statement was for Latasha. What Mother Elma did at CrissCon was taboo enough without the idea of some jackal filming the whole thing on the down low. Despairingly, if Stacy’s words were to be believed, then that was the only possibility. The icy hand of anxiety clutched her aching chest. “After everything we’ve been through…have you no sympathy?” she said, choking up at the thought of the most embarrassing moment of her life winding up online. Was this her karma for letting the same happen to Stacy, Skye, and everyone else she was supposed to protect? “When those photos ended up online, I alone was there for you, and this is how you treat me when the shoe’s on the other foot? Do you think I enjoyed being humiliated like that?! It was mortifying!”

“Woah, woah! Hold up, I’m…so lost,” said Stacy, holding up her hands innocently. A series of bewildered expressions descended upon her as she began connecting the dots from Latasha’s ramblings, “I was talking about your private stash of diapers…from your bedside table…and you never did say why you and Skye came home early…” Her vacant countenance shifted into a beguiled smirk as she let her imagination run rampant.

Contrary to her previous retort, Latasha’s face became profusely flushed over Stacy’s ‘flustering words.’ At least, she could take solace in knowing that Stacy hadn’t witnessed a recording of her fall from grace, though that was a paltry consolation prize in comparison to what she’d unwittingly given up. “Ah…I see. It wasn’t just my wardrobe that was raided. You’ve got quite some nerve,” she said, attempting to maintain her authoritative tone.

“Weak sauce, Latasha. Now, look who’s changing the subject?” said Stacy, exposing more and more of her pearly white teeth to Latasha. Not even sharks could smile so menacingly, “Did someone have too much fun at CrissCon? I bet you were super bummed that you left these at home…” Raising the skirt of the dress, she revealed the sodden Megamax diaper that was hugging her butt; Latasha’s Megamax diaper, to be precise. “...though, I’m sure Skye was more than happy to share.”

Recognizing the plain nappy Stacy was dawning as her own, Latasha was fuming with both fury and embarrassment. “Thin ice, Stacy. Thin ice,” she said acrimoniously, completely dropping the affect she utilized as a caregiver in favor of her natural, deeper voice. The fun and games ended now.

A chill ran down Stacy’s spine as if she could actively feel a shift in the room’s air pressure. Her smile flinched, prompting her to scoff to cover it up. "Oooh, so scary. You might as well be throwing a tantrum,” she said, her anxiety mounting as Latasha rose from her chair, “What? You can dish it but you can’t take it?” As caddy and unperturbed as she was attempting to sound, her voice couldn’t help but waver as Latasha rounded her desk to meet her at a malignant pace. “Y-You’re not going to intimidate me by just staring me down and-HEY!”

Wrapping tightly around Stacy’s skinny wrist, Latasha made speedy work of pinning Stacy’s right arm behind her back. “I warned you,” she said soberly, taking a page out of Elma’s book as she thrust Stacy forward onto the desk and yanked the back of her diaper open in one continuous movement.

“EEEEK! Latasha! What are you…” screamed Stacy, her eyes widening as she spotted Latasha’s spanking arm reeling backward. Pencils, pens, and other office supplies were sent flying as she thrashed in place atop the immovable surface. Try as she might, she was no match for Latasha’s strength. She’d flown too close to the sun, “W-Wait! I was j-just kidding aroun-”

*SMACK!*

The foundation of the Padded Palace shook as the flat of Latasha’s hand impacted Stacy’s unblemished ass. The subsequent shriek that leaped out of the troublemaking Little’s mouth was music to her ears. “Just kidding around, huh?” *SMACK!* “That’s not what it looked like to me!” *SMACK!* “All I see is someone who’s gotten away with being a brat for far too long!” *SMACK!*

Stacy’s wiggling quickly turned into writhing as she fruitlessly clawed at the desk for freedom. Each hit felt like a sheet of sandpaper scraping against her toned buttocks, causing her reddened rear to sizzle with increasing vigor between blows. It wasn’t that she’d never been spanked before, or spanked hard for that matter; Mal could be quite punishing. It was the fact that not even her parents dared to bare-bottom spank her, making this experience with Latasha a brutal first. Within seconds, her brazen demeanor was reduced to a blubbering mess. “STAAWP! I’M SOWWY! PWEASE SHTAWP!” she shouted, earning zero sympathies from the embittered Big. She felt her legs give out, slowing her frantic movements significantly and abandoning her with no choice but to endure.

Worst of all, Stacy could tell she was moistening over Latasha’s harsh treatment. Deep down, she knew she deserved every thwack despite resisting every step of the way. Such was the chaotic duality of a brat. Had she succeeded in topping Latasha and taking over the Padded Palace, she would’ve relished in her triumph without remorse. That said, if there was any absolute truth in this universe, it was that all brats craved defeat. To work so hard and stand so defiantly only to be put in her place like a naughty little girl was more satisfying and more stimulating than any outright victory ever could be.

*SMACK! SMACK! SMAAAAAAACK!*

Capping off Stacy’s paddling with one last stinging spank, Latasha released her grip on Stacy and watched as the pretend caregiver sank to the floor. “You had enough?” she said as she squatted down beside Stacy. No longer was there fury behind her eyes. She had extracted her pound of flesh.

Stacy bobbled her head up and down, the wind completely taken out of her sails. “Am done. N-no mo,” she mumbled, bending to Latasha’s will and ceding her caregiver role in one fell swoop. She’d made huge strides this weekend and was capable of holding her own as a Big but she still had nothing on a bonafide Mommy Domme with years of discipline experience under her belt, “You t-turned the tables so fast. I thought I h-had you.” She exhaled a despair-induced chuckle over the stark distance between Latasha and herself.

“Oh, honey, you never had me,” said Latasha, claiming all of Stacy’s cockiness for herself. A wave of calmness replaced the nervous energy that had permeated Latasha’s office since the moment their conversation began, offering her a chance to reflect, “Why did you want to have me in the first place? You literally pay me $2500 a month to treat you like a baby five days a week.”

Pausing to think about Latasha’s question, it suddenly occurred to Stacy how far she’d strayed from her original goals. The whole point of this was to prevent Connor from taking advantage of her the way Latasha’s former assistant had. But after the leverage that she was holding over him went up in flames, she’d been in a mad scramble to reclaim any semblance of control. Although, that didn’t explain why she enjoyed getting the chance to be the dominant one for a change. This was way too much to unpack in one sitting, leaving her to formulate the only reason she could come up with in the heat of the moment, “It…felt good…to be in control. Like I’d regained the confidence I used to have before…b-before…” Her voice became inaudible as Latasha pulled her in for a much-needed hug.

Equally in need of a caring embrace, Latasha’s shoulders eased back as Stacy returned her affection in kind. As much as it pained her to admit, Elma had been right on the money. She’d been a failure as a caregiver and a Diaper Dom, in more ways than one. “When I promised you that I would do everything I could to revive the Padded Palace as a safe space for you, I meant it. But I’ve been so far off the mark, haven’t I?” she said, separating from Stacy enough to look at her face to face, “So, I want to make a new promise to you…a promise that will give you the opportunity to express that need for control…”

*DING-DONG!*

The doorbell echoed throughout the Padded Palace, alerting Latasha, Stacy, and all inside. The Bigs were back. 

TO BE CONTINUED…

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💕 Story By CrissieBaby 💕 💙 Edited By AllySmolShork 💙 💚 Edited By AliceKChan 💚

Special Thanks to Our CrissBaby Diaper Company Investors: BlushyBen DD JFN Nike PrincessKittenLizzi Rosie Princess SissyDina Strawberry Sweetsamantharebecca & One Anonymous Investor

[summonhouse]

did u know !!!!! i am . INTERESTED in your characters and u should Tell me all about them

WAA WAA WAAA (HITS YOU WITH BRICKS )

Heres two collections of characters .

housecats who ive detailed plenty recently. the perfect person/pp, xerox, catch 22, and amaryllis/no signal. they are (sans amaryllis) fiction aware interdimensional creatures. the perfect person is the hand of god (me as a writer) torturing and assisting fictional creatures, xerox serves to clean up forgotten and abandoned stories lest they become overrun by nightmares and void, catch 22 is the nightmares and void, and amaryllis is pps normal child.

pp's a righteous bitch, extremely erratic and constantly experiencing back and forth. to have personality while also being explicitly and only a tool for someone who enjoys hurt/comfort is existentially hellish; it cannot allow for any personal connection because it will inevitably be torn apart for some writer sanctioned angst. its also only able to do what writers are capable of and so could easily be written stripped of its powers and lives knowing it has to serve or be trashed (which it had been for a year until recently and is still recovering). xerox is nice and sweet, despite regularly killing people and fighting monsters and the other housecats being very mean to him. he wishes everyone had the clarity to enjoy their time on screen and submit gracefully when the curtains close as an inevitability. catch 22 is just miserable and wants to see everything end (as it cannot) so seeks to permanently ruin any story it could. it personally despises pp for reasons i actually cannot remember. something about stealing its partner before it turned into a creepy void centaur? amaryllis is pretty normal, half mortal and ignorant to the larger problems around it really. in canon verse its been kidnapped by catch 22 in the hopes of hurting pp or inspiring it to try and rescue it but pp actually doesnt really care so amaryllis has been left abandoned to rot away in the void. i like to think about what i call "normalverse" aus where that didnt happen and it grows up relatively normal. i think it has a very .. heady personality

heres characters for fibs story which im in the process of rewriting. i originally made it in 2019 and dropped it for 2-3 years and am only now picking it back up so theres a lot of reworking i need to do and explanation is mostly going to be recollection. its about a dog named fib (first guy), he used to be prince lye of the laurel kingdom before labyrinth (second guy), a malicious magical entity, teamed up with another canine to usurp his parents and tossed fib in a magical prison for a decade or so, where fib slowly goes mad. the usurper has since died and so fib has been released, but the magic of his binding has leaked into him and he is now cursed so that he cannot tell the truth, instead automatically saying lies which then warp reality into whatever he had stated. still he is the only one who can take title of king and now struggles to maintain control of his kingdom. he now goes on an adventure to try and track down labyrinth to reverse his curse, learning lessons along the way about self reflection, different nonverbal ways of communication, boundaries and expectations in relationships he has with others, and generally coping with immense trauma. cricket (third guy) hunts fib down during his journey; when fib was a normal boy, so was cricket, and they were young best friends before lye was imprisoned. with no clarity on the situation as someone new takes over the throne, cricket assumes that lye had simply ran away, abandoning the kingdom for worse as the new king subjected the kingdom to needless war, drafting the young cricket who dies on the battle field and resurrects through his rage, digging himself out of his mass grave and now seeking to kill fib. lie (fourth guy) is like totally nothing i just wanted to put him up there LOL hes some sort of spooky doll magical creature who seeks to manipulate fib by feigning kinship, for profit i guess

i love. to think and talk

[intubatedangel]

Code Red : Chapter 2

Merry Christmas everyone! I managed to get the next chapter done for you all. It was a little hazy writing this one, between work crunch and an allergy attack (nothing major, think hayfever but thanks to dustmites) leaving me feeling horrible. I’m still happy with it though, so here it is. Hope you all enjoy it and have a great holiday!

Story Index  

Chapter 1

* * *

Carl looked up at Clarissa, the question prompting an ingrained reaction. "This is Kevin, male, late 20's - early 30's. Fell as much as 4 stories. Open left tib fracture. Likely compound fractures to right tib and fib, with potential fractures to both femurs. Querying pelvic and spinal trauma. Clear dislocation of right elbow, unknown damage to left arm, its pinned beneath him. Confirmed opiate use, we're attempting ketamine for analgesia preceding log roll and immobilisation." Carl took a breath. "We just called it on his girlfriend, looking at possible suicide attempt." He finished.

That doesn't fit. A voice in the back of his mind told him. If you’re trying to end it, you go higher than four floors. You're missing something.

He dismissed the thought. It didn't matter if Kevin had been trying to kill himself. Psych could run that. Carl's job was to give him the best chance of walking out of whichever kind of hospital he ended up in.

No! Think!

Carl shook his head, ignoring the unsettling tirade of his subconscious.

"I'm in!" Trish shouted, ramming the syringe of ketamine into the now secured IV port. It was enough to distract Carl away from the nagging thoughts. He could see it clearly, the high dose of tranquilizer sapping the tension from Kevin's body, leaving him much limper and more pliable.

"There we go. Roger, pass the backboard down." He ordered, accepting the head of the spine board as it was passed along the nurses and laid next to the crumpled young man. "Dr. Stelling, I need you to steady the left leg, we can reduce and splint in the trauma room." As the head of the emergency department, Clarissa was his senior, but Carl was first on scene. Unless Stelling specifically claimed his patient, protocol was to follow the orders of the primary physician. She knelt down, manipulating Kevin's leg until it was roughly in line with the rest of his body. He moaned at that, but the powerful drugs, both illicit and administered, kept him from actively resisting.

"Ready to roll." Stelling announced, without a hint of irony or sarcasm.

Carl looked around the nursing team. Why isn't she here yet? No time to dwell on it. Everyone present looked ready. "On 3. 1...2...3!" In a coordinated manoeuvre the team rolled Kevin onto his back, keeping his spine straight, while Stelling ensured there was no further damage to his leg. "Primary immobilisation." Carl commented, though the nurses were already working the straps of the backboard. A pair of foam blocks were placed either side of Kevin's head and secured, allowing Carl to pull his hands away and settle back to get an overview.

With the young man on his back Carl could see his other arm and hand, and his torso. It was bloody, yet there was no obvious lacerations or open injuries. That doesn't fit either. What's missing?

"Carl." Stelling's voice dragged his attention again. "That's the best we can get here."

"Right." He replied, forcing his focus to the patient before them. "Everyone got a piece?" He said, prompting the gathered nurses to grab various handholds of the hard backboard. "3 again. 1...2...3!" Together they lifted Kevin into the air, shuffling the few steps over to the waiting gurney. "And down, gently." He commanded.

Damned fool! WHO is missing!

Carl paused, while the nurses gathered the equipment on the ground, preparing to move the gurney to the nearby trauma room. He answered the thought. Anna. But she needed to take a break. She'll be in her usual spot. He looked upwards instinctively. Whenever she needed to take a moment, she would go to the top of the stairs. These stairs.

Something flashed past the corner of his vision, too fast for him to identify.

"What the fu..." Trish exclaimed, barely catching herself.

Carl's gaze snapped to her, glimpsing the dark streak on the back of her scrubs before she turned her back away from him as she leaned down to pick something off the floor. She straightened staring at the object in her hand, before a look of horrified recognition shattered her face.

Suddenly unsteady, Carl took a step forward, reaching for Trish's hands. Before he could touch her, she angled her fingers towards him. Cradled in the digits was a familiar sight. The locket he had given to Anna just this last weekend.

It glistened with the crimson sheen of fresh blood.

Even as the realisations cascaded together, he was already dashing up the stairs, ignoring the shout from Dr. Stelling.

* * *

Anna let out a sigh when she saw the locket drop over the edge, before the whole world seemed to flicker. She was no longer looking across the floor, but straight up at the tiles of the suspended ceiling.

Had she been unconscious for long? She was still on her own. She was still alive. Her mind was sluggish, but she figured it must have just been a momentary lapse. The tiles above her seemed to flex and distort as her vision wavered. Her hearing was fuzzy too. None of the noises down below carried to her now. The only sound she could hear was her own heartbeat in her ears, a soft, laboured thrumming. Her whole body felt distant, numb and cold.

Vaso constriction re-directing blood from the extremities. A quiet intellectual part of her brain supplied. What a lovely fact to bring to your own attention when you were bleeding to death. She was running out of time.

Did he get the locket? Or had he already left? Anna's eyes rolled. She wasn't sure if it was intentional, a response to her own questions to herself, or if it was because her consciousness was hanging by a whisper thin thread.

Hold it together for just a little longer. He's coming. He has to be coming. Just stay alive until he gets here. That was a better response. Though numb and practically lifeless, Anna managed to drag her arm across her body, placing her hand over the wounds. At least they were close together. She didn't have the strength to apply any serious pressure, but maybe it would help.

Her hands were desensitised from the reduced blood flow, but she could still feel the warm wetness of her saturated scrubs beneath her fingers. The sensation was enough to let her recognise the same feeling encasing her belly and flowing down her right side. Seeping under and spreading across her back.

The pool of blood was still growing, even though it only seemed to be oozing between her fingers now, instead of the spurting rush of earlier. She let her head fall to the side. It was hard to tell from this angle, almost parallel to the floor, but it seemed pretty big. She wondered how much blood she had already lost.

Is this really what we want to be thinking about right now? How close we are to .... gone? If she'd had the strength Anna would have shrugged to herself. She needed something to keep herself occupied. Keep herself awake. Figuring out ones current medical status was far better than counting the tiles on the ceiling. Without getting a top down view she could only make a rough guess. The sanguine puddles were both large. Her heart continued to thrum in her ears. The skin of the arm lying next to her body was beyond pale, almost a ghostly white. She became aware of her breathing. Quick, shallow. Almost gasping.

Damn. She was already well into stage 4 of hypovolemic shock. Or would that be haemorrhagic shock? 40% of her blood was no longer inside her.

What was that? Anna refocused her eyes. She hadn't even noticed that she'd zoned out, tip toeing the fine line of losing her grasp on reality itself. She didn't see anything. She tried to focus on her hearing. For a moment she could only perceive the thumthumthumthumthumthumthum of her racing heart. But then there was something else. Footsteps. Loud, dashing footsteps. Then a shout. Two syllables shouldn't be hard to understand, but they were just so fuzzy.

He shouted Anna, dummy. That made sense. Wait. HE shouted. There was another exclamation. Just one sound, but repeated a few times. She knew that voice. She'd been waiting for that voice.

Movement. Her vision had gone all cloudy again, but she convinced her eyes to work together. She could see him. Just his face. The look on his face broke her heart.

"Anna!" He screamed, lurching into motion as he sprinted up the last few steps.

* * *

Carl bounded up the steps, two at a time, his comfortable but hard wearing footwear making loud clacks as it impacted the aluminium edging strips of each step he proceeded to launch off. His hand intermittently gripped the handrail, pulling hard to augment his rushing leaps, and holding tight as he swung around the corner of each landing.

"Anna!" He called, halfway up the staircase. She either didn't reply, or it was so quiet it couldn't be heard over the sound of his frantic climb. Neither was a good sign. He turned on another landing, looking upwards, and almost stumbled. He could see the glass panel lining the top landing.

A bloody, smeared handprint stained the glass.

"No! No! No!" He shouted, before launching himself up the last few flights.

He rounded the final landing, slowing as he saw the knife. It lay there on a step, the four inch blade coated in crimson from tip to handle. He forced himself to climb the last few stairs, his legs weak, like jelly, terrified of what he was going to find. On the sixth step his head was high enough to see what was on the landing.

His world almost shattered.

Anna was lying on the floor, a pool of blood beside her. She was still. Gut-wrenchingly, terrifyingly still. Around her abdomen her scrubs were darkened with bloodstains. He looked at her face, tears prickling the corners of his eyes. Her eyes were half open, staring blankly. His stomach dropped. For a moment he was certain she was already gone. The woman he loved, the woman who owned his own heart, dead on the false marble floor of the landing.

Her eyes flickered and shifted, focusing. On him. Her hand, laid out on the floor as if reaching towards him, twitched. She was still alive.

"Anna!" He shouted again, leaping forward, bolting up the stairs as fast as his legs would take him.

Carl raced towards, fear filling him as he saw the other pool of blood surrounded by scattered drips. He practically slid on his knees as he rounded her body and dropped down beside her.

"Anna, Anna baby please look at me." He pleaded as he shrugged out of his white coat. Her head rolled, trying to track him, but she was too weak to actually keep it steady. He balled up the coat, then gently pulled away the hand that lay across her belly. He could just barely see the two wounds, a brighter scarlet than the blood darkened scrubs. He placed the coat across them both, intertwining his fingers with hers. They were so cold, each digit like a separate icicle. He guided both their hands over the coat, pressing hard.

Anna whimpered, the pressure sending a spike of pain through her body.

"I'm sorry baby. I'm sorry." He whispered to her as he looked down at her face. Their eyes met, the pain dragging her back to a vague form of alertness. He could see the tears sparkling at the corners of her eyes. She must have been so scared. He shuffled around, keeping his hand tight over her injuries, adjusting his legs enough that he was able to lift her head into his lap. "I've got you. I've got you." He told her, gently stroking her cheek.

"C...arl." She said softly, her gasping breath hitching.

"I'm here Anna. I'm right here." He told her pulling her closer. Her eyes were flickering, drifting away then snapping back to his face as she clung on to consciousness.

"I....wish we....had....more....t....t...time." She whispered, fighting to say each word.

"We'll have all the time in the world baby. You're going to be just fine. I've got you and you're going to be just fine." His voice cracked.

"S...S...Sorry." Anna shook her head ever so slightly.

"No. No, don't be sorry. I'm going to take care of you."

A gasping cry from the stairwell, made him glance up. Trish leaned against the railing, her hands covering her mouth in shock as she tried to comprehend the scene before her.

"Trish. Call a Code Red. Major haemorrhage. We need a trolley and a grab bag up here now." Carl said, his gaze falling back to the woman he was cradling. Trish stood there trembling. Carl turned back to her, finding that commanding voice inside him. "Go! Call a Code Red now!" He roared, finally prompting Trish into motion.

[yeahmiknight]

TW/CW theres SSO MUCH. Hi its me after having a really bad episode or something im going to tell you all my story in full detail as much as I can remember because I cant take it anymore if any of the people named see this please understand if I dont do this I might actually off myself because this has gone on too long. I wont hide anymore I wont I dont know I dont actually know lets begin can you tell im not recovered? I joined the Mark101/TBOTV community maybe a year or two ago? And met two people, a guy named Jax and a guy named Alex. I bonded with both of them quickly though Alex grew on me more because we seemed to have alot more in common than I did with Jax. I started a server for the TBOTV community known as Offbrand and it was all nice until Alex started feeding off of the times I felt vulnerable and started telling me my friends (more specifically Jax for some reason) were bad people who were actually doing bad things. My PERSECUTOR in my system (why is that in all caps?) jumped on the opportunity to hurt us or well me- the host. I did not know he existed at the time and I was gaslit in a sense to believe everything Alex was telling me. Now you might be asking fib why didnt you get away from the other guys? Because I was an emotionally unstable bastard who couldn't let go of people. Eventually I had a meltdown and deleted the server and Jax became PISSED and did something small I cant remember but it made me feel worse during my meltdown. We 'made up' I think but the relationship was toxic in a sense as I still had Alex breathing down my neck and as time went on the relationship with Jax got worse and the relationship with Alex turned into online sexual abuse and emotional manipulation which I started taking without protesting because I never thought I would get out of it. My persecutor would constantly do things to start fights with Jax and I would be left completely clueless dealing with the fights which led me to try and find reasons for why they were even happening which Jax took as excuses and only left me more confused and heartbroken. I never understood what was going on and only knew I was a horrible person despite my actions not being my own. I always wanted second chances but never understood that it would never ever ever ever ever ever end ever. I would feel genuine fear around Jax but I would struggle to leave, I felt stuck between two people and I could never say anything about what Alex was doing to me or anything remotely right about the Jax situation because I never even knew what was happening. I was completely silent, and I suffering getting my shit rocked by Jax and his friend for things Alex encouraged and my persecutor jumped on, I thought I would never be able to leave so I took it and it only made me worse. Alex told me not to tell anyone he was saying anything because he couldn't have the community attacking him for 'exposing a bigger person in the community' and told me that if I ever told anyone even my closest friend that he would not only blackmail me but come to my house, kidnap me and rape me which for further context. This guy had my address. And he knew when I was home alone because my parents would always leave at a specific time for work and we would always play games right as they left. I dont know how he got it, but he had it, and he made sure I knew he had it. I couldnt do anything, so I stayed silent forever and ever while he breathed down my neck and told me so many things so so many things I cannot share about myself about what he would do and nobody ever knew. Ontop of this with the Jax situation and I just lost it. It went on for months until it was 'stopped' when I got banned from MWD for my persecutor saying a word they should not have said. it didn't stop. Ive been living with this for so long, I know this wont reach the people who were apart of it but I want people to know this, I need people to know this. is this my resolution? Im sorry Jax Im sorry Hob Im sorry Xonxt Im sorry Mark im sorry this ever happened but it did and I will suffer for it

[solardick]

Cassiopeia, daughter of the great Devil. Eight stars by eight is 88 constellations. 58 5 by 8 pointed stars. The rosary. The 5 star constellation to name Cassiopeia. The celestial mother of wayfair travellers. And the five reindeer stags. Whip and chariot. The forbidden purple enclosure of the north star. The throne. Santa clause is coming to town. Well that was fun.

5 + 17 is 22. Not my experience of it. Less god more perverts.

5+7 = 12. Hanged man.

Unifying number is 2. Inside the church. The hanged man is given to 10. The wheel.

Anyway.

Letter A. Is a feather. I fallen white feather. Though others have placed a black one. Aside the feather. It’s a kite. Learning to fly a kite. Trying to easenit with the wind. Letter A is all things aerial.

Where’d his heart go? I don’t know. He’s dead inside.

Though, be the first time ive seen a manifestation of a card that doesn’t yet exist. I can correct the moon card. Ive seen. And the sun card is identical to the marseille card. Except that it lacks the superficial barrier separating the two children. As they play “ball”. In my case, badminton. That wall in the background should be placed in the middle ground. A short wall, easily passed over.

Hidden soviet-tarot- symbols hidden in plain sight.

18+31=49. ≠13 ≠4

R, Temperance/moon + 10 wheel. M/Q Death. D, Emperor/empress.

18 Р 31 Я. У 13. Г 4.

Mixes tarot with the qwerty. And leaves aside the yet undefined jcuzen.

For letters RЯ. Completes a mussing piece and spells out the dangers of the moon, and the death function of all material attachments.

For example on the possibility of card letter Аа. Not much mention of the magician here save that paired with the fallowing Башня card of the tower. On this count it works simultaneously to both qwerty and jcuzen type sets.

On the horror scene of lightning and the kite. And the creation of life. Frankenstein. To Benjamin franklin catching lightning with a kite. To the missing key of the image.

Electricity is bonded to the life force. Through the use of defibrillators. And serves as a protection charm. Here also not too. Far away is the theft of fire. And a fib isn’t just a lie. But a fabrication of story. Inconsequential to or of little importance. As one passes over truth, and may yet still continue on being in the palm of my hand here.

And welcome to 9-11. The beginning of a script

The picture of the hermit holding his smart phone paired next to justice. Or “strength” watching the mother feminine wrestling away his pride. His voice and his will of command.

Justices will is lunar by nature and thus reactive in its acts to sever the life force.

By jcuzen, 9 and 11 have been given to something else. З and Й. Letter Зз the fertile grounds of the mind. Imagination building. As letter 3 brings it back to letter Вв. To letter C. And one of the letters ties it to the high priestess. Aka temple of solomon. In a cut out stand alone story of the book of god inside a golden throne or sacred resting place where all evil is left outside the gate. Here plays in the magician card. But B also means something else. Not saying. Iduhno.

If Й is given to judgement. Then it plays true all the way through all connections made here today. Though judgement. Given to the perverse. The majority of the world. Is anything but sacred.

And what is seen at this step past letter Б, as for in the present tower. What lays outside of that crumbled state. The story begins and is held all the way through.

Should invest in some scotch. And suck on that for while.

But im not living this perverted twisted framed life they’ve given me. My suicide plan is still alive and well. Fear i may never finish this card game.

They cheated, god. I can’t function anymore. And im never going to learn how to live.

Yeah, still my favourite movie. Baahubali. Images that are completely missing from americano bs. Which does everything in its power to degenerate masculinity with pompous bs mixed with villainy.

I prime example. Even has the ametica in it. American gods. Starts off, like most do. Inmocentky enough. Then it loops over everything with perversion. Poor clark kent. With his secret rainbow identity and when he steps out of thr closet… the entire smalltown claps and cheers him on. Yay! Oh well. What to expect from a canadian show overlayering the southern states. And their conservatis laws of illegality.

Fuck the entire northern american continent.

Wonder ifvthe bible will olay out true and whch teo countries are sodom and gamorah. Since i was born to be owned and dominated by twisted perdonalities. Which is obvious to me now. Is never going to end because it always was. Elation brings me to thoughts of the end of this world.

Portents though that fallow the rabbit. Are some of my least favourite. Busy rodents. The gofer doesn’t seem to offer much in the way of symbolism. Not to my count. But the rabbit, there being no Hares. Ties back to lost and found. Depending on which card precedes it. Not the most pleasant of happenings. So i said fuck it. My new state to lack of care. I left to go get mine. Concession, and pleasant interaction.

All of those years to bring me to this point. All those years of framing me up to states of being. All those years of the same preceding all that. It’s always been the company paired to. All the violence. All dispositions of being a centre of gravity: to everything thats wrong. Bringing out my worst. It’s all its ever been others meddling with my affairs. From birth to 40 years on. Constant. Iv’e never done that not once. Addiction. And all that’s entropic. Ive been swallowed by a state of darkness. Over 25 years ago. Any attempt at anything is nothing. I just wait. And that waiting is getting nearer to its absence. And my act will close all light. Whichnisn’t much of a loss cause there’s nothing good in it. Never has been never will be. Im done.

Portents still speaking strong. A rabbit, a crow in sheeps clothing and a dove. The second two repeat twice. Sabotage mixed with good will. And the fucken rabbit of loss, found is only attained through effort.

Wish there were other animals, but no, not really.

There were also blue jays further ahead. And bluejays are all about cooperation. But are found in between the two sets of two.

As it’s set. Alot more to do.

Poor john wick. Everyone keeps calling you a woman after then killed you dog and stole you car. No Womder your mad.

Here’s never learning how to socially assert myself. And to the unsatisfying sex all never have. And to never being wble to do anything witg myself. Tried learning how. Never allowed. Ill just stay in the same state i have for the last 40 years. Being subject to others tyranixal rule.

Its the endweek end again. So its just me. With nothign to do. No orders to fallow. No one to see or talk to. No wonderni still smoke. 25 straight years of that. I dont want to be alive anymor e

“You got any olans this weekend?! Hope you have a great weekend” donyou have a wife? Any children? How about your family?” Fuck you. Yeahs everything is great! I dont even know what havign a fucken friend is like. So fuck you and die.

Doritos, marijuaana ans vedio games. I wont be too conscious for most of this weekend. Ill wake up on monday and go backnto work.

[skiagram]

Ive been too busy to diary but. So far so good. Last week kinda flop bc I missed out on some important homework assignments which was embarrassing but I promise I’m gonna do better.

clinicals is also going good, I have 6 competencies signed off!!! Chest, Wrist, ankle, foot, hand, and tib fib. I’m still super fail at like doing things on my own but my log sheets I’m spending more time on and I’m trying to follow Tech E’s advice and be more diligent in the routine like sanitizing, gloving, etc. hopefully I don’t get chewed out more at my SVP…

hw I’m embarrassingly bad at studying as usual but I think it’s bc lecture sucks SO BAD. I usually just end up doodling at lecture instead of paying attention. I think tho bc working is hard at home I want to use my class time to actually do the workbook or hw stuff better…it’s all anatomy and fact things which usually I’m good at but unfortunately here, thinking you know isn’t as good as ACTUALLY being able to reproduce knowledge!!!!

food wise: I’m eating well! Happy to say I have NOT been eating out horrendously for almost a month now. I pack my lunches, I eat a lot of cabbage and beans (farty) and sweet potato. Last week I cooked up a bunch of chicken breast chunks so I use that in my meal prep with some curry and paprika. Trying hard to make things tasty so I’m not tempted to spend more money, the tough part tho is breakfasts/mornings—I love getting my matcha drinks and pastries at the shop as I rush to school or work.

[priyeshmeenasourceandsign]

BLOG-7

Grand Theft Auto 6: Abstract OF REAL LIFE

SOURCES: INTERTEXTUALITY IN MEDIA

There are a lot of insane situations in the GTA 6 teaser, some of them are even directly influenced by actual events. I've always enjoyed finding Easter eggs in the games I play, frequently spending additional time looking for those tiny gems. Rockstar Games are known to use parodying in their Grand Theft Auto sequence.

Curriculum Vitae

The term intertextuality is defined by Julia Kristeva as the transposition of one (or several) sign system(s) into another. Kristeva urges a departure from the 'banal sense of "the study of sources."' (In-text citation)

For Example:

Easter Eggs

Parody

The similarity between GTA IV, GTA V, and the upcoming GTA 6

Those Shots in the trailer are similar to what Rockstar Games did in the Past with GTA IV AND GTA V Games. GTA IV's emphasis on different gangs gave the game a realistic crime drama feel, but GTA V was overly preoccupied with the FIB/Merryweather and dull rich individuals like Weston. Still, Liberty City felt more "real" than Las Vegas, which may have been the intention of the developers. But, the map of Grand Theft Auto V is far too dominated by an enormously pointless rural area. There are a lot of scenes in the games that are based on real-life events or locations like The Vinewood Von Crastenburg Hotel (Based On The Hollywood Roosevelt Hotel) in GTA V.

The Von Crastenburg Hotel & Resorts network appears to be modeled after the Hilton group. However, the Hollywood Roosevelt Hotel was most likely the inspiration for the company's Vinewood location. It is situated at the intersection of Clinton and Meteor and has restaurants, nightclubs, and swimming pools among its facilities.

Scenes In GTA 6 Trailer Based on real-life news stories

Some of the more absurd shots in the Grand Theft Auto VI teaser are essentially news articles.

Racist Women comes with hammers

Rockstar Games included this event in the trailer of GTA 6 even though it's from Los Angeles and not Florida, where the environment (Map) of the game will be based. A woman verbally and physically assaulted her neighbor. She had two hammers with her so she could smash up her neighbor's car. In the GTA 6 teaser, a woman is also seen carrying two hammers in the same manner.

Crocodile walks into the supermarket

Another shot from the trailer is a crocodile walking into the shop. CCTV footage of a crocodile barging through the front door of a store appears in the GTA 6 teaser. This is also based on a real-life event where an alligator showed up at a Florida Walmart's front entrance in 2013.

Police Officers Chasing Naked Man Running on Highway

Another non-Florida event was this naked man running from police in Canada. Even the style of mobile phone footage is identical to a moment seen in the GTA VI trailer.

In Conclusion

The creative way that each real-life events are integrated as an Easter egg gives this storyline a brilliant touch. Grand Theft Auto's core attraction is intertextuality, which is well demonstrated in the GTA 6 trailer. Several examples demonstrate how well Rockstar Games can incorporate real-world elements into its virtual worlds. From Easter eggs and parodies in Grand Theft Auto IV and V to the forthcoming Grand Theft Auto VI, the series has evolved to intentionally move towards greater realism with GTA 6. Scenes that mimic viral news stories like the crocodile invading a store or the woman wielding a hammer show that rockstars want to create immersive experiences for users in GTA6. Adding a Viral News story in the game can be a good way to attract young audiences towards the game, as it can be in the form of realistic character interactions, relatable locales, or events modeled after real-world occurrences. All things considered, young audiences stand to gain a great deal from the inclusion of realism in games as it encourages empathy, critical thinking, connection, and curiosity, all of which contribute to a more fulfilling and meaningful gaming experience.

References

Kristeva, J. and Moi, T. (1986) The Kristeva reader. https://ci.nii.ac.jp/ncid/BA00525868.

Petty, T.E. and Campbell, M.W. (2023) GTA VI - TRAILER. Published by Universal Music Works on behalf of Wild Gator Music (GMR) and Wixen Music Publishing, Inc. as agent for Gone Gator Music (ASCAP) and NotoriousJBPSongs (ASCAP) Courtesy of Universal Music Enterprises, a Division of UMG Recordings, Inc. 4 December. Available at: https://youtu.be/QdBZY2fkU-0?si=HWi1wszybeulaxEr (Accessed: 01 January 2024).

[neonthoughtsforever]

I don’t know me bitching and moaning I guess

It’s not fair. My dad is a good patient. He sees his primary care doctor twice a year. Gets blood work. Follows up with any consults his primary orders. Pays for expensive tests to be sure his health is as good as it can be for a 70 year old. Takes all medications as prescribed and never misses a dose. Then he gets fucking sepsis and everything goes to shit. He goes into a fib causing left ventricular heart failure. His abdominal aorta has an ejection fraction of 45%, maybe less, when just a year ago, he was between 60-70%. He’s in respiratory failure secondary to the heart failure. His kidneys shit the bed. He’s got septic arthritis in his knee that needs surgical debridement but the fucking bone bros haven’t come to see him ONCE despite being on consult since he was in the MICU. His appetite is still shit. He blames the hospital food but when we brought him food from home, he just picked at it and gave up. He’s exhausted and can barely keep his eyes open when we visit. He knows we are there, but he’s not getting sleep because of the pain in his knee keeping him awake and they can’t give him pain medications because his blood pressure and kidneys couldn’t handle it.

Good things: the cardiologist came by and ordered IV lasix to pull the extra fluid off his heart and lungs. Lauren said he peed out quite a bit (she estimated the urinal would have been full if she wasn’t emptying it, so that’s about 1L of fluid off) by the time she left. His work of breathing seemed to be less, but he’s still on 5L NC and tachypneic. His urine is no longer brown, but still dark. His kidney labs are getting closer to baseline meaning the AKI is clearing up so it doesn’t seem like he will have chronic kidney problems (thank fuck, dialysis is a fucking nightmare). He has an angiogram scheduled for Wednesday and if he needs a stent, will have it placed then therefore making it easier for him to breathe.

I just want the ortho guys to come. The sooner they can clean out his knee, the sooner he can get up to walk which I know will make him feel better because maybe then he could take a shower. Once he’s able to walk and they do the angiogram, he SHOULD in theory, be able to come home. The infectious disease doctor was saying it would be a 4-6 week process to clear the infection so that’ll mean IV antibiotics when he comes home, but I can take care of a PICC line and even teach him to care for it. A PICC is no big deal, and IV antibiotics are super easy to give. He doesn’t have to be in a rehabilitation facility or nursing home for that. And I could take him to physical therapy every week and Tyler said he would make sure dad goes on walks either with him and Roger or just him around the block. We have everything sorted out for him to come home. The doctors just need to do their jobs. I know it doesn’t happen instantaneously and I’m trying to be patient, but the bone bros have had 4, almost 5 days to come in and see him and they just haven’t. When I visit tomorrow I’m going to ask what’s the hold up because his bill is only getting bigger and all he’s doing is sitting there. I don’t care about the money. I’ll pick up shifts if I have to, I don’t care. I just want him healthy again and I want him home. I took him for granted and would get annoyed at stupid shit that I shouldn’t have let bother me so much. I just want him home.