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buckyskorpion · 5 years ago

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11 Hours - part one

Pairing: Biker!Bucky x Reader

Summary: bucky is the mystery you can’t wait to solve. if you can get out of his bed long enough, that is. a biker au.

Warnings: gang-typical violence, sex scenes, alcohol mentions, probably more to come so stay tuned

A/N: um yes so hello another au and another wip..... dont hate the player hate the game. i hope you enjoy this though! this is my take on a biker!bucky au because we definitely dont have enough of those. let me know your thoughts on this, critiques, predictions, anything! my ask is open. also i wont be taking tags for this so please dont ask.

title taken from 11 hours by wet | playlist

You lie on your stomach, sheets pooled by your ankles, and watch Bucky watch you. One hand propping him up on his side, the other tracing slow, hair-raising circles on your bare back. He’s not really seeing you though, eyes glazed over so they look shiny and huge, big enough to get lost in. You roll away from him, off the edge of the bed and onto your feet.

“Going?” he asks, voice rough. You can’t remember the last time one of you spoke - the time between breathless moans and now seems stretched, like a liminal space you’ve both been sitting in for far too long. It’s time to get back to the real world. You shrug one shoulder, rooting around his bedroom floor for your clothes to redress.

“It’s late,” you say. He huffs an agreement. The two of you didn’t get back to his apartment until after midnight, so who knows the time now.

“Let me call you a cab,” Bucky says, rolling onto his back to pat around the bedside table for his phone. You toss him a look over your shoulder, chosing to ignore him as you pull your skinny jeans up over your ass. Bucky pauses to watch, tongue flicking over his lips and not bothering to hide his grin when you catch him. You throw your jacket at his head which he catches with ease, laughing himself back into the pillows. Ugh, he’s such a menace.

You walk back over to the bed once you get your last shoe on, closing the distance you’d created that was so obvious in the contrast between his bare skin and you, fully dressed. You lean over him, letting him tug you close with a hand on your hip while you pull him up with a grip on his dog-tags. You kiss him, a hard press of lips and a quick swipe of your tongue that he tries to follow but you pull away. He lets you go, rolling his eyes at the tease.

“See ya later, tough guy,” you say, backing up to the door. He tosses your leather jacket back to you, and you catch it with one hand as you head down the hallway. It’s the closest thing you’ll get to a goodbye from him, so you let the front door click shut without another word.

You shrug into your jacket as you race down the stairs of Bucky’s apartment building, heading for the laundry room. It’s not like you know Bucky - all you do is fuck on any day you both happen to be free, starting at a grungy bar in downtown weeks ago and ending here, in some strange friends with benefits situation (minus the ‘friends’ part). He’s hot, and you’re not looking for a relationship, so it’s perfect. Only, something about the scars on Bucky’s knuckles and the motorbike he drives you home on after the bar makes the hair on the back of your neck raise. Something about Bucky is bad news, and you’re not about to get caught up in it just for some (mindblowingly good) sex.

So, you head to the laundry room and climb out the window rather than using the lobby doors. Nobody sees you, and it’s easy to get to if you stand on the dryer in the far right corner. You don’t know why you think someone might be watching Bucky’s apartment, or following you from your late night visits, but your dad always said you were paranoid and it’s never hurt you this far in your life. You swing a leg through the window and drop down into the patchy grass below.

From here you scale the fence into the gym parking lot next door and enter the street that way, nobody the wiser. You stuff your hands in your pockets as you walk down the street, itching for a cigarette or some gum or a pair of earphones, something to keep you company as walk home in the middle of night in New York. There are still people out and about, because of course there are, it’s New York. You make it home without a hitch and immediately head to the shower to wash off the night.

Naked again, before you get under the jet you check your phone. Bucky has texted you - probably a joke or something, his pretence for checking you get home safely. Tough guy my ass, you think as you open the picture he’d sent. He’s holding up the black lace panties you’d been wearing, the one’s he’d pulled off with his teeth and tossed aside without a second thought. Under it, he’s sent another message. Think you forgot something.

Did I really forget them? You try to bite back a grin, because it’s sad to be standing in your bathroom smiling at your phone, but you’re unsuccessful. You watch the three dots under Bucky’s name start and stop, then start again, making your heartbeat pick up. You’d made the oh-so-confident Bucky ‘dont know his last name and don’t need to’ falter. It still gives you a thrill.

Don’t think you’ll be getting them back.

Consider it a present, perv.

You like it

No comment.

You jump in the shower, leaving your phone on the vanity. You can’t leave the shower until you rub one out, the rounds of sex you’d had a mere hour ago long forgotten at the thought of Bucky doing the same thing as you to the panties you’d left behind. Maybe you don’t want to get caught up in whatever shit Bucky is in to set off your paranoia radar, but you certainly want to get caught up in him. If you aren’t already; irreversibly tangled.

***

You never find Bucky, he finds you. Or rather, he gives you a call and you know within a few hours you’ll be at whatever bar or diner he asks you to meet him at, building up the tension until you both can’t take it anymore and go back to his apartment. It doesn’t matter what you say to him, or how many times you say no - you both know you’ll be there.

This time he catches you leaving your dad’s place, pushing through the gate as you put the phone up to your ear. You turn to wave goodbye to your dad in the window he always stands at to see you off towards the subway, and say, “So soon?”

“Hello to you too,” Bucky grumbles, but you know there’s no heat in it. You’re grinning as you dodge pedestrians, tugging your puffer jacket tighter around you with your free hand - the New York winter chill has started to set in and it’s biting through even the hoodie you’re wearing under the jacket.

“Hello, Bucky,” you say, hoping he can pick up on the thick condescension you’re handing him, “To what do I owe this pleasure?”

“I can hang up,” Bucky warns, and you smirk. You’re winning this round, at least.

“Aw, don’t be like that, baby.” You jog down the subway stairs, hoping your line doesn’t cut out as you move underground. It doesn’t, Bucky’s reluctant laugh filtering clear as day through your phone.

“Baby, huh? Moving onto pet names are we, doll?”

You wrinkle your nose, “Ugh, not if they’re from the nineteen forties, no thank you.”

“I’m sure you hate it,” Bucky says, sarcasm heavy. You can hear his eyeroll from here. “What are you doing?”

“Getting on a train,” you say, as you do indeed slip through the almost-closed doors and try to avoid any and all surfaces around you. “What are you doing?”

“Talking to you,” Bucky says, grin audible. It’s your turn to huff now - Bucky never tells you anything about his life, what he’s doing, who he’s with. It’s another thing that makes you think he’s hiding something, but instead of finding it infuriating and a dealbreaker like you should, instead you’re fascinated. Your mission is to figure Bucky out, piece by piece.

There’s a muffled voice on the other line, someone talking to Bucky and you imagine him covering the receiver with one big palm. A hand that you want on you, running down your skin and pressing down over your throat and dipping between-

“You there?” Bucky asks, jolting you out of your daydream. You’re blushing, suddenly too-hot in the layers that were previously not doing enough to ward off the chill.

You clear your throat and say, “Yeah, yeah, sorry, what?”

“Mmhmm,” Bucky says, clearly amused. “I said, I’ve got a favour to ask you. Something a bit different.”

“Oh?” It had been weeks of going to dive bars and underground diners, meeting Bucky in dark corners to drink rum and cokes and eventually fuck each other senseless until you’re sure Bucky must get noise complaints. Never had he once indicated he might want to change the routine you’d set up. Never had he asked you for a favour. To say you were intrigued was an understatement.

“Come to a party with me tonight?” he asks. You have to replay his voice in your head to make sure you heard right, stunned into silence. He takes your pause for a ‘no’, hurriedly filling it with, “I get if it’s a no, but my friend Nat is a drill sergeant and she’ll give me the third degree if I don’t bring-“

“Don’t hurt yourself,” you say, interrupting his nervous ramble. You’d never heard Bucky sound anything but aggressively confident before. It’s throwing you for more of a loop than his invitation. A large part of your brain tells you to say no. You don’t trust Bucky, really - you barely know him. But thats why you want to say yes. Going to this party might change that. “I’ll go. What time?”

“Eight tonight,” he says, breathing a sigh of relief. “I owe you one.”

“Yeah, you do,” you laugh. You organise to meet at his apartment, not quite ready to give him your address yet, and hang up. Your mind is reeling, sure everyone on the train must feel the impact of that phone call, too.

They’re all going about their business as if something monumental hasn’t just happened. Bucky has invited you into his life, to meet his friends, as his date. What happened to not-friends with benefits? What if this changes the arrangement you’ve carefully cultivated, so perfect for your independent lifestyle and Bucky’s obvious commitment issues?

The temptation is too much. You practically run home when you get off at your stop, anxious to get ready. You’re about to get a few more pieces of the Bucky puzzle and you have to look good for it.

***

Bucky stops you in the front hall of the house, a hand on your arm as he stares down at you. He looks comically large in the tiny Brooklyn town house, even if it is ten times nicer and more beautiful than your place will ever be. The party filters in from further inside the house, loud music and laughter and the obvious clink of beer bottles sounding muffled through the bubble of you and Bucky.

“My friends are… a lot,” he says, drawing his lip between his teeth. You tilt your head at him, amused by what you can only assume is nerves radiating off Bucky. He rolls his eyes at you, kisses you on the forehead quickly, and adds, “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

“I can handle myself, tough guy,” you say as he tugs you by the hand through to the living room where the party is in full swing.

“I hope you’re not calling that punk ‘tough’, lady,” a man calls out from the couch, pointing the neck of his beer at Bucky. His tone sounds aggressive but the wide, gap-toothed smile he gives says otherwise. He gets up and pulls Bucky into one of those manly half-hugs. Bucky doesn’t drop your hand as he pats the guy on the back, and you try in vain not to read too much into that.

“Sam, this is (Y/n),” Bucky says, and to your surprise Sam pulls you into a hug as well. You make wide eyes at Bucky over Sam’s shoulder but he just smirks, clearly amused. He’s still holding your hand.

“Nice to meet you!” Sam exclaims, a bit too loud in your ear but you don’t mind. His happiness is infectious. “Come meet Natasha, she’s going to love you.”

“Why’s that?” you ask, letting yourself be led by Sam with an arm over your shoulders to the couch he’d just vacated. Bucky drops his grip but follows too-close behind you, his body heat almost like a physical touch on your back, reminding you he’s there. You wonder if he’s nervous about what you’re going to say to his friends, or what his friends are going to say to you.

“Because,” Sam says cryptically. You roll your eyes - he’s sounds just like Bucky.

Sam stops in front of the redhead woman he was sitting next to when you entered, dropping the arm from your shoulders. She immediately stops her conversation and stands up, giving you a once over with a smirk tucked tight in the corner of your mouth. You try not to feel intimidated but it’s hard - she’s beautiful, and scary, and did you mention beautiful? She shoots an amused look to Bucky over your shoulder, and in response Bucky rests his fingertips on the small of your back. Barely there, but just enough.

“You’ve brought someone, James,” she says, turning her attention back to you and holding a hand out. “Natasha, lovely to meet you.”

“(Y/n),” you say, taking her hand. It’s soft - you half expected her to break your hand. “Thank you for having me.”

“Oh, you’re adorable,” she says, and you don’t bother hiding your frown. You don’t like feeling condescended and Natasha seems to be exuding that in palpable waves. Bucky must feel you stiffen because he steps closer, if possible, and slides the hand on your back around to grip your hip.

“Nat,” he says, with warning, and you glance up at Bucky to find him having some kind of silent stare off with Natasha over your head. Eventually he looks back down to you, smiling a bit and squeezing your hip, don’t worry about her. To you, he says, “Let’s go say hi to Steve.”

“See you later, (Y/n),” Nat says, wiggling her fingers in a wave as you follow Bucky to the kitchen. You ignore her, stepping closer to Bucky on instinct as you weave through people packed wall to wall. That was weird, but what did you expect? Bucky did warn you.

Steve turns out to be a giant blonde teddy bear who sweeps Bucky into a hug that lifts him onto his toes. It’s endlessly funny to see huge, muscled, intimidating Bucky being manhandled by a touchy, clearly tipsy behemoth. Bucky doesn’t let it stand for too long, though, bringing Steve into a headlock and sending them both tumbling into the kitchen bench.

“Jerk,” Steve gasps when Bucky lets him go, eyes narrowing. Bucky grins, breathless, and punches him on the shoulder.

“Punk,” he says fondly. You’re mesmerised. You’d wanted to see more of Bucky’s life but you never expected this. It’s like watching him with his family, and it makes something soft and fuzzy swell in your heart which is bad. Very, very bad. Maybe you shouldn’t have come.

Steve finally notices you’re there and you do the normal introductions, watching your hand disappear in his huge one as he shakes it. They’ve all been very welcoming, in their own ways, you notice (bar Natasha, but something tells you she’s always like that). They don’t seem to question your sudden appearance at their party or with their friend, holding Bucky’s hand and being tucked into his side as he passes you a beer and gets to talking about things you have no hope of following. You’re happy just to watch Bucky, smiling and laughing with pointed teeth and crinkles by his eyes. You still don’t really understand why you’re here, but you’re not going to question it. This feels like a stolen moment, something you’re not meant to see and might not see again so you try and commit as much to memory as you can.

The night goes on, talking with Sam and Steve and Natasha who appear to be Bucky’s closest friends and the only ones he bothers making time for. Bucky doesn’t stop touching you the entire time. At first you think it’s nerves, but the more you observe the party around you when the conversation turns to something you can’t contribute to, the more you think it’s for everyone else rather than Bucky’s nerves. You catch a lot of people eyeing his hand on your hip or his arm around your shoulders, or just looking at Bucky in general. Hardly anyone interrupts your little party of five but not for ignoring you - it’s almost like they revolve around you, in tune to the groups’ every movement, but they wouldn’t dare approach. It’s weird. You try not to look too hard into it but your dad is right. You’re paranoid.

Eventually it’s just you and Bucky sitting on a bench outside, a canopy of fairy lights casting shadows from his unfairly long eyelashes as he looks down at your entwined hands in his lap. You tug against his grip, causing him to look up at you and you almost lose your train of thought. Bucky’s eyes are searing blue, the hottest part of the flame.

“You’re being very possessive tonight,” you say, squeezing his hand for emphasis. He doesn’t look away from your eyes, cocking his head to the side and you have the distinct feeling you’re being tested.

“Do you want me to stop?” he asks. You don’t answer straight away. Truth be told, you have no idea what’s going on. You went from fucking Bucky on a semi-regular basis, keeping it at strangers who bone and nothing else, to being glued to his side at a party with his closest friends in what feels like no time at all. Whiplash, is what you feel. You don’t think you hate it, though.

“I never said that,” you tell Bucky, and watch as his face morphs from calculating to that shit-eating, confident smirk you’ve come to know. You’re relieved to see it, the sparkle of his eyes as he leans closer to you in the dark of the garden. This, at least, you know.

“You’ve done well tonight,” he says, and you hate how you glow at the compliment when you should be rolling your eyes. “I know I’ve asked a lot.”

“It’s alright Bucky,” you say, smiling at his seriousness. You’d think he’s asked you to commit a crime or something. “Although, I don’t know why you needed me here. I’m glad you did, but…”

“But you thought I only wanted you, to fuck you?” he finishes, kicking his eyebrows up in amusement. You hate the way you blush, ducking your head from him to try and hide it.

“I feel like that was a very logical conclusion,” you say defensively. What else had he given you? You didn’t even know his last name.

He takes your chin between his fingers, tilting your head back up to look at him. He’s smiling soft, not condescending at all, and he moves his hand to cup your cheek in his palm and hold you there, looking at him.

“Maybe this was a test,” he says, licking his lips. Biding time. “To see if I can trust you.”

“Do you?” you ask, eyebrows kicking up.

“Jury’s still out,” he says with a grin, light-hearted, playing it off as a joke but you know from the look in his eyes that he’s being somewhat serious. He looks out at the garden then, still holding you close, and says almost thoughtfully, “My friends like you, though. Even Natasha.”

You scoff at that, and he turns back to you with that crinkly, squishy smile he gave to Steve before. It catches you off guard, enough to not see the kiss before it comes but you catch up as fast as you can. You want to slide into his lap and run your fingers under his shirt, but that’s probably a bit inappropriate in front of a bunch of people you just met. You settle for a frustrated groan against his mouth, biting his lip and tugging so he’s forced to chase you against the back of the bench, crowding your space. He drops your hand to slide his up your thigh, fingertips dangerously close to your crotch, kissing you hard enough to bruise. His tongue in your mouth is scalding, stubble against your skin a delicious burn, and you would’ve gotten lost in it if it weren’t for the very pointed cough from behind Bucky’s shoulder.

It’s Natasha, standing with her arms folded and a smile hidden somewhere in the green of her eyes. You try to mentally will away the flush in your cheeks as Bucky pulls back, hand still on your thigh but turning to glare at Natasha. You find yourself somewhat hiding behind the bulk of his shoulder despite yourself, letting him take the reins.

“Steve is puking,” she reports, raising one eyebrow. “Sam requests your assistance.”

“Fucking ‘course he does,” Bucky grumbles roughly, getting to his feet. Right before he storms away he pauses, leans back down to kiss you again, and then he’s back on a warpath through the house. Other guests part for him like the red sea, and you watch with furrowed eyebrows as they also seem to watch him go. He never goes anywhere without an audience. Perhaps you were right to be paranoid about him.

Natasha is still standing there when you blink yourself back to the garden, watching you with an unreadable expression. You straighten your holey, vintage t-shirt under your leather jacket and stand, not enjoying the power difference with her standing above you. You wish Bucky had taken you with him, even though you didn’t particularly want to watch Steve throw up everywhere. It would be preferable to being stuck under Natasha’s x-ray vision, though.

“I like your boots,” she says. It takes you aback - such a typical girl thing to say at a party to someone you don’t know, and Natasha doesn’t give you ‘typical’. You glance down at your Docs, and then back up at her pretty sundress with a sexy v-cut. Sure you do, you think sarcastically, as you both stand there like night and day.

“Thanks,” you manage to say, “And again, for inviting me. The party’s been great.”

“Has it?” she asks, and why do you feel like she’s asking three questions at once? As if sensing your apprehension, she smiles and adds, “Just, I know we’re a bit full on and being the new girl at a party is always difficult.”

You blink, surprised once again. The sincerity throws you for a loop, as everything seems to with Natasha. You say, “I mean, yeah, but you guys are great. You all seem really close, it’s- nice. Like a family.”

Something flashes in Natasha’s eyes, that amused little smirk returning to her face that fills your gut with dread. Was it something you said?

“Come on,” she says, and just as you think you can’t be surprised by this woman anymore, she winds her arm with yours and starts leading you back into the house. Throwing you a conspiratorial look you’re not sure you’ve earned, she says, “Let’s go find the boys. I’m sure Steve’s finished throwing up by now.”

Part Two

~~~~~ please let me know what you think!

#bucky x reader fic #bucky barnes x reader fic #bucky x reader #reader insert fic #biker!bucky #biker au #avengers fic #pov fic #au fic #bucky barnes fic #bucky fic #bucky barnes #natasha x reader #steve rogers #sam wilson #11 hours

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teeth-and-tea · 4 years ago

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ANIME & MANGA I HAVE BINGED IN THE LAST MONTH: May 2021

I've Been Hunting Slimes for the Past 300 Years and Now Ive Maxed Out My Level: incredibly long name aside, cute af slice of life that suffers Same Face Syndrome. I'm still happy to watch it because of how feel good and fluffy it is though, Im probably gonna forget about it in two or three years tho. 8/10.

Don't Toy With Me, Miss Nagatoro: I found out this was a webcomic first and suddenly all the HORNINESS made so much more sense. A Femdom, Degradation, Humiliation, Dacryphilia Bullies to Lovers story disguised as a high school rom-com which, I'm not going to lie, misses SKEEVY CITY by mere inches on a regular basis. However, I'm a Dom/Switch and this entire relationship sets off my dom brain center like New York City just shy of midnight. So if you're into that sort of scene, this anime is for you. If not, it's still fascinating but you're probably gonna be a little put off by how mean the Girl!Bully is to the guy MC. Unless you find out something about yourself, in which case, congrats! Stay safe, sane, consensual, and learn about the traffic light system on top of safe words, I promise you'll have a better life in general after that. Still Ongoing, currently 10/10.

Fruits Basket: IM GONNA CRY I LOVE THIS ANIME SO MUCH???? The original anime came out when I was in... I think middle school and my parents were really strict on what I watched so I never got to experience the first wave and I never bothered to watch the show ever after I moved out of the house years later. However, now that I'm much older I honestly can say this is one of my favorite anime to date, and all the characters are charming, lovable, with their own problems that I can connect to or sympathize with, and I love the MC which is always a treat tbh. Except Akito. Akito can suck a sandpaper dick. I'm only on S2 tho so no spoilers! Anime 11/10.

Monster Girl Doctor: went in thinking it was gonna be a monster girl who's a doctor with a homoerotic assistant (her name is SAPPHY okay sue me for thinking it) and ended up watching the entire dubbed harem series. Honestly, I've seen worse and this one has consistent follow-through on interesting characters and backstory enough for me to shove aside the blatant under-monstrousness of the female monsters and the harem-ness of everything else. Dubbing is honestly really good, which is a treat, and the monster designs are not the worst and the MC is tolerable. Honestly, I don't mind having watched it! The mix of cgi and the traditional animation together work pretty strangely though, and it often doesn't flow super well. 7.5/10

So I'm a Spider, So What: Dubbed version which honestly isn't that bad. Took me a bit to get into it, but after realizing that it's got a mismatched timeline a la The Witcher, it made so much more sense. Heavily done in cgi, and you can definitely tell between the 2D and 3D animations, but not the worst in the world. I went in not expecting much but it ended up being an Issekai I can stand and even enjoy. On god has a decent story... with the spider. I'd be a liar if I didnt say I skipped some of the human parts just to get back to the best part of the show. 8/10.

Somali and the Forest Spirit: I'm so fucking nostalgic for this thing it makes me want to go and hug my dad. About a human girl under threat of being eaten with a monster-dominated world. Very obvious "humans fear what they don't understand" message but instead of the humans learning tolerance it's what happens when they get annihilated first so like, kudos for the mangaka for having the guts to do that. I cried like a baby regularly. It's really good, I watched the dub and ID WATCH IT AGAIN!!! 9/10.

To Your Eternity: Oh my god. O h my g o d. Fell in love on the first episode, ngl. About if an immortal being learned how to be a person from scratch. I love it. HOWEVER. Keep a box of tissues on you at all times because you're gonna need them. I'm only on EP7 because that's all that's out right now but just know. I love it. Not for everyone but certainly for my "what do we define as human and the human condition" ass. 12/10.

Those Snow White Notes: A sports anime without any sports. About shamisen playing which is cool because I never realized how cool this instrument was??? Its neat af. OP1&2 are by Burnout Syndrom so know theyre fire. Gonna be real, its pretty alright, but not extraordinary. You can tell they were using the characters as archetypes rather than actually characters which kinda kills a lot of the emotional value you could've had, but I'm still gonna watch it. It doesn't make me cringe as hard as other sports anime tho so I consider it toptier in that regards but if you're a big sports anime fan you might be bummed out by it. Every single musical performance is INCREDIBLE tho. A solid 8/10.

Toilet Bound Hanako-kun: THE ART OMFG IT'S SO GORGEOUS. Listen, if you took coptic markers and gave them an animation budget with some manga panel direction thrown in there, that's this anime. It's beautiful. Gorgeous. I'm in love with the aesthetic every second. Story? Really good. Characters? I love the MC and his evil little twin brother asshat. Demons? Not super imaginative but I'm carrying on happy as can be anyways. Dubbing? A bit shaky at times but I found the voices charming if a little off for some of them. I'm already waiting for the second season with popcorn at the ready. 10/10.

Prison School: I watched this directly after Hanako-kun and it was like I got slapped in the face by sweaty unwashed titties and some fedora wearing schmuck's piss kink. No character is likable or redeemable. I finished it, but at what cost? 2/10 and only because a character shit his pants and I laughed.

Sleepy Princess in the Demon Castle: watched this right after Prison School and it was NECESSARY tbh. Its so CUTE and honestly, im not even kidding you, the fucking funniest anime I've seen in months. I watched the dub and the VAs are having the time of their lives working on this anime not just giving it their all but literally just going ham. Its great. If I read this im sure id be bored outta my mind but the VAs giving it a joyous performance make it an insta fave for me tbh. 9/10.

Sk8 the Infinity: i watched the dub with my bro and I can confirm that its a spectacular show because we both loved it and we have vastly different tastes. Incredibly SUSPENSFUL AND STRESSFUL for an anime about skateboarding but we finished it in a single sitting tbh. The last episode is not dubbed for some reason but we still loved it. Like if Free! was less obnoxious but the only fan-service here is Joe ♡ a beefcake who owns my lesbian heart. I think there's exactly one named female character tho and I legit couldn't tell you what it was if there was a gun to my head. So, over all, 9.5/10.

That Time I Got Reincarnated as a Slime: I'm going to be entirely honest, I went in thinking it was going to be a boring isekai of no value. I was right about the Isekai part. It was honestly pretty interesting and focused on nation building like you're playing civilization rather than the usual "Get Stronger" narrative or "Get Some Pussy" narrative most isekais take which is delightfully refreshing. Granted there are flavors of that in this which means it doesn't alienate the big isekai watchers out there, but it's not the whole dish and it doesn't make me want to cringe the same way others do. You've got a slime MC just vibing and building a nation of monsters nbd. Does lose points for making the female monsters more humanoid than their male counterparts but makes them back by only doing perfunctory fan-service and nothing that makes me want to cry... except the butt sumo episode but in fairness it was all a terrible dream. Literally, the MC refuses to dream anymore after that. solid animation, decent voice acting, decent story, made me realize how HUGE this is in the Light Novel community???? There's like 18 fucking novels and that's WILD. 8.5/10.

MANGA:

Spirit Photographer Saburo Kono: a one shot special by the mangaka of The Promised Neverland! Honestly a really delicate touch of both super creepy and really touching, and I'm not gonna lie I'm bummed that this isn't a bigger project but the single chapter makes it a good taste for their style. I've been wondering if I wanna read/watch The Promised Neverland and now I think I will. 10/10

Deranged Detective Ron Kamonohashi: from the mangaka of Hitman Reborn comes this Sherlock and Watson derivative! Not even 20 chapters out yet with a sort of spotty schedule, I honestly love it even thought it's exactly as you expect. HOWEVER. Kamonohashi the "Sherlock" character uses mental pressure to kill all confirmed murderers and it's up to Toto the "Watson" character to save all those people before Kamonohashi kills them! It's just recently introduced a "Moriarty" family of crime lords (not a big spoiler don't worry it was obvious) so the tension surrounding Ron's past is amping up rn. Personally, I think the art is GORGEOUS, the characters engaging, and the story quick enough to keep my interest. Most mysteries are solved within a chapter or two so you're not stuck 20 chapters into one locked room mystery which is just peachy tbh. RN, 10/10. If this gets an anime, I anticipate a legion of fangirls who ship the two main characters along with their many friends. I've been alive too long to believe otherwise.

Don't Toy with Me, Miss Nagatoro: Yeah I read the manga after I watched the show. A slower build than the anime, but it works for the format, if theyd done the same with the show then I don't think it wouldve done as well. Honestly? Cuter tbh but just as horny. You dont start really LEARNING about your character until like, chap 65 tho and no real "drama" happens until like 75. A good chunk of the chapters are like 8pgs so its a breeze to get through. I love these slow burn idiots of the century. 9.5/10 because you can DEFINITELY tell the mangaka does hentai too.

Yugen's All-Ghouls Homeroom: one-shot by the mangaka for Food Wars, it's no wonder there's this constant perviness from the MC, a guy who can see and exorcise spirits. Takes place at an all girl's finishing school with KICK ASS monsters tbh, kinda bummed its not longer. The MC? Blatant monsterfucker who is also a CONFRIMED monsterfucker???? Idk i vibe with that single emotion. Everything else is hit or miss. 7/10 for monsters and cool concept, lost points for the MC very pointedly being okay with admitting he'd wait for the teenagers to be adults tho. Creepy af. Could live without that.

Hell's Paradise: I finished the entire 127chps in 3 days and I was really enthusiastic about it 90% of the time thinking about how deep it was and then I actually thought about it and I ended up being very neutral about the whole thing tbh. The art is fantastic tho, but DEFINITELY deserving of the M rating. Tits. Tits everywhere. But not tits to be ecchi over, no, monster hermit tits on beautiful women-ish figures. Now generally I give that a pass but a huge theme in the story is that men and women are "no better than one or the other" but like, lady tits are what you see 99% of the time. Men tits are few and far between. I call bullshit on most of the "deep" themes is what I'm saying, so it's like the mangaka was trying for those deep thoughts but missed the margin a little too far for my preference. That being said, the MC is a married man who loves his wife which automatically makes him my favorite character so like... idk so many good things, so many misses, but overall really spectacular themes and imagery. Unique but classic all at once. It's getting an anime and I have NO IDEA how much censorship they're gonna be doing but they're going to be doing SO MUCH. Oh yeah, and one guy is a plant/human hybrid who fucks a 1000 year old plant-hermit which makes him a canon monster fucker. And one canon non-binary character who I, a nonbinary, actually like. So like... gosh I've got mixed feelings. 8.5/10.

Choujin X: From Sui Ishida, mangaka to the mega hit Tokyo Ghoul comes this brand new manga!... Of one chapter, lol. Not really binge-y because it's just the one chapter out right now but I'm already keeping my eye on it. The grasp on anatomy in the art is PHENOMENAL and you can see Ishida flexing his art skill which is great. Can't give a true rating but I'm giving it a tentative 9/10 because I'm excited to see more.

Shag&Scoob: technically not a manga, its an ongoing webcomic I binged an subscribed to in one day and I just think it deserves more attention. Starts off funny with "what if Scooby Doo had a gun" and has been led to "what if all cartoons are aliens that survive and receive their powers by the humans that love them in an epic war with Martians." On god, its good. I finished the current series in a couple hours so it's a breezy read, highly recommend it. 9/10.

To Your Eternity: Yeah I watched the anime and then finished all current 143 chapters in like 3 days. GOD IM WEAK. I don't buy physical manga unless I know I want to remember the story forever and I'm already budgeting for the current books out. Yeah, this is a good series. That being said, definitely not for the faint of heart or those who suffer under common triggers like suicide, molestation, death, etc. It's all framed as bad and necessary to the story don't get me wrong, but it's there and has lasting affects on the characters. Incredible story telling by the creator of A Silent Voice. Keep tissues nearby at all times. 12/10.

#i've been killing slimes for 300 years and maxed out my level #don't toy with me miss nagatoro #spirit photographer saburo kono #fruits basket #deranged detective ron kamonohashi #yugen's all-ghoul's homeroom #monster girl doctor #so i'm a spider so what #somali and the forest spirit #to your eternity #jigokuraku #hell's paradise #choujin x #shag and scoob #toilet bound hanako kun #prison school #sk8 the infinity #that time i got reincarnated as a slime

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naptoons · 5 years ago

Note

Heyyy girl can I request a nick imagine where we are quarantined with the rest of the boys?

Hey dear!! And You got it darling!!

Polaroids- Nick Mara

Summary: being stuck in the house with your bestfriends seemed fine for a while but it started to make you anxious when you have to see nick everyday. Also known as your crush.

Warnings: fluff is all.

A/N: I hope this is good my dear!! But I had so much fun writing this one. I was in my feels today so fluff it is! I love taking requests they’re so fun.

Proofread: yes/no

You only meant to visit the boys and hang out with them, then leave the following week. You were in town for a vacation from college. Spring break made you happy finally a break from everything stressful.

Now here you are stuck with the boys with no way of going home because of this pandemic. Not that you didn’t mind being with them, it’s just that you were soon running out of clothes and your car was stuck at the airport in your hometown. Nick ended up sparing some of his clothes with you, while you ordered some to be shipped. While wearing his clothes Zion and Edwin would constantly tease you about it “Aw look at you being a cute girlfriend” Zion teased

“Shut the fuck up Zion” you spat, having the desire to strangle him

“What he is your boyfriend, so actually ask him out dude!, what are you scared of?”

“Rejection, ending a friendship, awkward moments” you defend yourself

“Oh shut up dude, it could never end y’all relationship, y’all are closer than us and we’re a band, we also live together!” Zion counterattacks, you look at Edwin to see if he agrees, to which he nods as he places his phone down. “Zion is right, most times he isn’t be this time he is right”

“But listen! It can get awkward because if he says he doesn’t feel the same way about me then where am I going to sleep? I sleep in nick’s room and plus I’m stuck here with him”

“Aye! Don’t act like we kidnapped you!” Edwin throws a pillow at you, squinting your eyes you throw it back at him to which he blocks it out his way.

“Listen it’s no or never, people can only wait for so long before they give up” Zion ruffles your hair before heading towards the closet “board game night!!” Edwin yells towards Zion, what if everything he said was true. What if your fear was slowly making nick fall out of love with you. But what if he never liked you at all. Standing up you walked towards his room to grab your Polaroid camera and films but bumped into a shirtless nick head first. Bouncing back you night your lower lip staring at your toes.

“Where you going speedy?” Nick laughs slightly, brushes his thumbs against your cheek, calling you ‘speedy’ was a joke between you guys, because anytime you were passionate or nervous about something you spoke so fast. That no one could comprehend, but nick does.

“Just-just going to the room to grab my camera, we’re having board game night you should join!” You smile your heart pounding against your ribcage, you walk into the room searching for your camera, as you found the films first, you heard the door close along with the closet being opened and closed. Turning around nick was closer to you than you thought. Almost tripping over your shoes on his floor, he grabbed you by your waist crashing you into his chest.

“Are you okay y/n? You’ve been hella jittery lately” nick furrows his eyes in confusion, your ears starting to flood up in color, you couldn’t even look him in the eyes without your face turning red. “Nothing— im okay just thinking a lot you know?” Nick’s eyes shallowing in disbelief he really wants to help you, he cares about you so much and never wants you to deal with heavy emotions alone.

“Hey dont look at me like that” you start off while rubbing his forearm “I’ll be okay I swear, I am okay”

Nick’s eyes shifting whole examining your whole face, Nick wondered how you’re so beautiful inside and out, and no has treated you the way you treat others. “M’kay” Nick answers “you got your Polaroid?”

“No, I have no clue where I put it” you chew on your lower lip looking through the nightstand drawers, Nick chuckles while sitting on the bed, his fingers dig into your waist “were you that wine drunk you forgot where you placed it?” Nick smiles, causing goosebumps to scale your arms “you placed it in the closet ma” you gasp, then punch him slightly, walking towards the closet you open it seeing it sit right on top of his folded clothes.

“You’re beautiful” Nick mummers, you turn back around to see him laying on his back, showing off the ink layered on his body, you try not to smile but he always has a way with words to make you weak in the knees. “You’re handsome” you reply

“Dare I say we make a great couple” Nick teases, you roll your eyes pulling him up to his feet “yeah we would” you beam brighter, Nick meant it and so did you. But both of y’all joke that way, and neither of you knew if one was being serious or was joking.

Coming into the living room the boys were sitting on the floor sitting around the coffee table “finally mom and dad are here!” Edwin jokes

“They were probably making our niece or nephew back there” Zion comments, grabbing the nearest thing you could find you throw it at Zion, which ultimately turns your face red. Sitting on the floor nick sits next to you. “What are we playing?” You ask

“We figure you’d pick, since you’re our guest” Brandon comments

“Aw, how sweet, let’s play clue” you excitedly grab the box,

“Oh shit, y’all are in for a treat” nick boosts your excitement

“Damnit, right y/n loves solving mysteries”

Couple of minutes later you guys were yelling who you think is the murder, your suggestions told you zion was the murder, so when it was your turn you squint your eyes at him. “Hm, Zion come with me, i think you’re the murder” after talking to Zion, he ended up showing everyone his cards pointing him as the murder. Everyone looked in shock while nick’s eyes swam in love. Everyday you never failed to surprise him. Sitting back down next to nick you smile rubbing your nose against his,while his arm is on the back of the couch. All of a sudden you see a flash on the corner of your eyes. Turning around Edwin hands you the film smiling.

“Do we look good?” Nick jokes

“When dont y’all look good” Edwin replies

“Fashion couple” Brandon adds, you turn your head in nick arm attempting to hide your face.

After a couple of hours you guys played more board games, you let Edwin dye your hair purple, painted in the backyard and played in the pool. Today was a great day. And nick was slowly getting more and more agitated with how he couldn’t just tell you how he felt. Watching movies with you and the boys in the backyard, you guys made a tiny little campfire as y’all at s’mores and drank hot cocoa. Your hair still a little damped , he ran his fingers through it. You turn towards him only inches away from his lips. Your breath caught in a turmoil.

“I can’t do this anymore” nick whispers above your lips

“Do what?” You ask, instead nick just cups your face pressing his lips upon yours, placing your hand on his wrist. Everything else began to fade away, and everything Zion said was right. It couldn’t be more awkward. Because he felt the same. Seeing a flash go off in the background nick pulls away, you cover your face in his arms, Nick pulls you in closer caressing your ear lobe with his thumb.

“OTP!!” Edwin yells, you laugh purely out of nervousness, while nick soaks it all in, never being ashamed of how much he loves you. Nick kisses the top of your head “mm, I love you” nick tells you.

Cuddling in bed you guys look at all the Polaroid pictures they took of you two and everything else. Grabbing a marker from the nightstand you write down the dates on them and stick them on the cork board you and nick started since the quarantine. looking back at it for a better view. You feel nick place his chin on your shoulder softly kissing your neck.

Caressing his forearm that’s wrapped around your waist “Hmm, this is going to look great on my wall when I get home” you joke nick pouts just thinking about it, now that you were his girlfriend and you were here for a while, he couldn’t phantom you being away from him. “Aww baby, dont be sad my love, I promise I’ll leave something behind that smells like me”

Nick rolls his eyes in sarcasm while chuckling at your comment, you lay your head on his chest running your fingers over the ink on his skin “by the way, I hope you remember I do graduate in two months, so I’ll be with you for a while”

Nick smiles letting out a huge sigh of relief, one had grabbing your jaw he kisses you all over your face finally reaching your lips “god I fucking love you”

Giggling into the kiss you smile “hm I love you more”

#prettymuch #prettymuch imagines #nick mara #nick mara concepts #nick mara imagines

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thequeenb · 5 years ago

Text

Lost love (part 2)

Pairings: KamilahxMC

A request from anon

She didn't knew where she was going neither it mattered to her, she just wanted to disappear from New York as soon as possible. Her head was spinning, she hadn't slept in days as her dreams kept her awake.

She moved in Venice hoping its beauty will make the ugly reality more bearable. Everyday it felt like it was harder to breathe, harder to accept that Kamilah won't be hers.

"We are in this together, i promise" her sweet melodic voice kept repeating on her head, her bittersweet perfume filled her nose, she just wanted everything to stop hurting so much but there wasn't any way. Anywhere she was going something would remind her of Kamilah and how she will never be able to tell her how much she misses her.

The sun was going down and it was just another dull day, tasteless almost lifeless. She was breathing but she wasn't alive, like a lost angel trying to find her way home.

"I miss you Kamilah" she whispered as tears ran down her face. It became a habit, watching the night sky thinking there is something that bounds them together. But Kamilah for her was like a star, so beautiful and amazing yet so far, a bright hope that she can only see at night in her dreams.

___

"I am telling you Adrian its weird" Kamilah said pacing around the room skeptical

"You had a lot of nightmares before" Adrian said trying to understand the situation better

"But..none of them felt real enough"

He wanted to help her of course she was his sister after all, but the more he thought about it the more he felt like something was missing from him, something that felt to far gone.

"I understand how you feel, why dont you repeat what you normally see in your dreams?"

Kamilah stopped to look at the window and then above to the sky

"At first i saw pointless scenes that didn't make sense, but the more the days pass the more i feel know this woman.. its so bizarre"

Adrian was lost in his thoughts trying to take in Kamilah's words

"Its okay Nicole i can take it from here" a man in an expensive suit said looking at Amy with a warm smile

"Hello you must be.."

"Amy, Amy Parker" she said nervously hoping her interview will go well.

He gasped when he felt Kamilah's hand on his shoulder shaking him lightly

"Are you ok? You were zooming out" she said with concern on her eyes

He looked at her stunned, everything was starting to make sense now, this name was familiar yet strange. Like he felt beautiful things when he heard it but also an unsettling pain.

"Her name is Amy..Amy Parker" he breathed out shocked

Kamilah opened her mouth to respond but she wasn't able to put into words what the sound of this name made her feel.

"Amy!" she yelled cradling her on her arms "Amy no" a sudden sadness entered her tone as her hand wondered uselessly above the sword pounding from Amy's chest.

"Hey Kamilah!" Amy said excited to see her after a few weeks of being apart

Kamilah was calm and professional as always bit a hint of a smile could be seen on her lips "Amy" her tone was usual yet different, more inviting

"Amy..Amy..oh Amy" she said as tears fell down her face. There was more to the story that she couldn't remember, like something was missing but now she is one step further, closer to solve the mystery puzzle.

"Nicole will have a list of the people i had appointments with two weeks ago" Adrian said walking downstairs, Kamilah closely behind him.

Nicole was sitting on her desk picking up phonecalls but she stopped once they both approached her

"Ad-- Mister Raines what can i do for you?" her tone changed from friendly to professional once Kamilah stood beside him, eyes full of determination

"I would like to have the list of the interviews we had two weeks ago"

Nicole started digging at her files to find it but she couldn't help but ask the purpose of this sudden rush Adrian seemed to be

"With all due respect why do you need that sir?" She looked between both trying to find answers but they both didn't seem to be up for questioning

"I dont think he hired you to get on our business" Kamilah rolled her eyes grabbing the list from Nicole's hand

She scanned quickly through names and numbers until

"Right here!" She said excitedly something all seemed to be surprised by "Why does it says cancelled next to her name?" she tapped at Amy's name showing Nicole

"Oh her? I remember her..she sounded pretty unprofessional if you ask me, she said an excuse to cancel the interview" she just shrugged going back to her work

"Should we call her? It has her personal information on the paper" Adrian pulled out his phone but Kamilah was quick to grab it

"Let me handle this" she said taking a shaky deep breath

___

What is life when everything you do is painful? Why should you hold on another day when hope is long gone?

Amy was sitting on the edge of a high building watching the city below her. Nothing made her feel anymore. The alcohol felt tasteless on her tongue, the painkillers didn't do much of an effect as her sleep wasn't an escape of peace but rather a nightmare ready to haunt her.

Everytime she closed her eyes she could still feel Kamilah's kisses on her lips, on her neck drinking up her whole body. A new memory would come to haunt her every night that she tried to rest from this tiring world until she had enough.

She looked at the sky as fresh tears ran down her cheeks.

"What is the point?" She said outloud

"I love you Amy, i love you so much"

"Stop..please stop" she repeated as her simple tears became body wrecking sobs

"I care for you Amy very much so"

"No stop!! I cant do this anymore" she now held her head on her hands wincing, the memories became to loud, to painful.

Without even looking down she took a deep breath stepping closer on the edge. Just jump she thought and like that she closed her eyes letting her body free.

Tag list: @potato-kai-mona-sayeed @scarlet-letter-a0114 @amorettemcsky @trouble-with-the-curve @gavryllo @sayeedbound @wildsayeed @blackphenix9527 @mrskamilxh @nydeiri @onyxgaytrash @thepotatobleh @lightning-fury @ilovetaylor13m

#kamilah x mc #choices kamilah #choices fanfiction #bb fanfic #bb #kamilah sayeed #bloodbound #kamilah is my queen #bb kamilah

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vincent-frankenstein · 6 years ago

Text

Ghost Hunter AU

“yea boy im doing one of these bullet point outline things bc i dont have time to ever write this but im not letting this idea go to waste //dabs

sorta inspired by bfu bc i just started watching that yea boyyyy

this is such a mess im sorry

so lets set the context

virgil and logan are both youtubers. virgil runs a paranormal channel, talking about different conspiracies and ghost stories and whatever; logan specializes in educational videos, specifcally history

and they watch each other’s channels and dont have a crush on each other what no

but then one day, their topics coincide

logan’s doing a video talking about the gruesome history of some old prison, and virgil’s doing a video on the ghostly legends that surround the place

they collab, and their viewers love it. they work really well together too; virgil’s spooky humor and logan’s skepticism mesh together and the fans adore them. it’s educational, it’s terrifying, and it’s fun.

“hey, maybe we could collab more often?” Virgil asks when they go out for coffee after filming. “If... if you want.”

Logan does want

they make a joint channel not a week later

and thus begins their ghost hunting career

break here bc damn this got long shdfklhsdfk

virgil provides the terrifying ghost stories. logan provides the history. together, armed with their knowledge and their trust in each other, they conquer some of the most haunted spots in the world

including goatman’s bridge ofc

the video of logan yelling “FUCK YOU GOATMAN” goes viral within a few hours

“i cant believe you achieved meme status before i did,” virgil remarks, scrolling through their tag. “unfair.”

logan hastily pulls out his vocab cards. “uh — ah — then perish?” he says, and virgil laughs himself breathless

but then, they decide to investigate the legend of an old, abandoned house

it’s said that the house is haunted by an evil demon, who lures people inside and kills them in horrible, cruel ways. no one who sets foot in the house ever returns

so, naturaly, Logan and Virgil are going to spent the night.

they set up in the living room with sleeping bags and an ouija board and a spirit box and set to work

“Are there any demons in this house?” Virgil asks, ignoring Logan’s skeptical laughter. “Hello?”

The spirit box crackles and shrieks

and then

“L̪͈EÁ͂̌̾͐̃V̼͂È̲̱̟̔̑”

the clearest voice they’ve ever heard. even logan is shaken, eyes wide as he glances around the room.

but the voice didnt sound angry, or evil, or cruel

it sounds scared

“GE̙͚̩͉T̺̯͔̲̟̍̈́̈ͤ͐ ̓ͤ̓̋O͖̳͔͕̺͚̯ͯ̃́̏ͬͩ̑UṬ̹̬͇͔̆̔ͨ͛̓” it screams. “GE̙͚̩͉T̺̯͔̲̟̍̈́̈ͤ͐ ̓ͤ̓̋O͖̳͔͕̺͚̯ͯ̃́̏ͬͩ̑UṬ̹̬͇͔̆̔ͨ͛̓ P͖̪̭͉̘̄͒͆ͮͬLE͚͎A̤͚̙͚̯̻͕ͯ̾ͦ̃ͯͮ̐SE”

virgil nearly drops the spirit box, his hands are shaking so badly. the room has grown so cold that their breath fogs in front of their faces. even logan has nothing to say.

they barely have time to share a glance before two men appear

one stands in the shadows, dressed all in black, his cloak billowing around him, one eye seeming to glow bright, poisonous yellow

the other has ashen skin and furiously beaming red eyes, hidden behind shattered glasses. his clawed fingers are curled into fists; his pastel-blue outfit stained with rusted red. one horn curls into a sharp point; the other is cracked off at the stump.

“i̻̘̽̂̏ͅ ̻͎̟̖t̞̞̅̍r̫̬̝̈́̂̏ȋ̥͎̰̟̲̠̯̉̋͆́̍ͥe̫͈̘͈̭͉ͩ͑̆̈́̐̾d ̣̥tô͚͓̤̥͐͌͛ ̄ͩͯ̑waṛ͑n̐̍͂ͦ ̞̹̣yͨ̔ͪͥͯou̟̻” he whispers, garbled

and in the split second before he lunges, Virgil spots tears in his eyes

they just barely escape with their lives. their gear is gone, left back in the house, and their lives are changed forever.

“well,” virgil says, breathless and terrifed. “you can’t be skeptical anymore.”

“shut up,” logan says.

the logical thing would be to stay away from the house. logan says as much, at least three times. but virgil can’t stop thinking about the way the demon had tried to warn them, had pleaded with them to leave

there’s more to this story, he knows it. he wont let this one stay unsolved

so they dig through the town’s history, find records of the house’s owners, search and search and search until finally

Dolos Morel. the last known owner of the house. though he lived hundreds of years ago, there are no records of his death. he was imprisoned young, sentenced to death, but he vanished the day before he was set to die.

he’s yet another unsolved mystery. virgil’s so used to those, he almost passes it by

but one thing stands out, one thing that makes virgil sure he’s the guy

he was born with one yellow eye

“this is him,” he says, slamming the records down on logan’s makeshift desk in their hotel room. logan scans the papers and nods, eyebrows furrowed

“why do you care so much?” logan asked, though he has to admit, he’s become invested in this as well

virgil doesnt answer

tears pooling in crimson eyes flash through his mind

finally, he meets logan’s eyes. “too many people have gotten hurt because of him,” he says. “i mean — shit, logan, we’ve got a real demon and some sort of immortal asshole on our hands. we should at least try to get to the bottom of it. isn’t that what we do?”

virgil doesn’t know where this heroic streak has come from. logan isnt sure what to think of it

hes not blushing shut up

but he and virgil have been partners for years. he’d follow him anywhere.

and so, armed with as much knowledge on exorcism and demonic protection as possible, and as many lucky charms and bottles of holy water as virgil can carry, the two set off to solve the mystery

they sit in the dusty living room, side by side on the floor. virgil turns on the spirit box and takes logan’s hand instinctively, and logan’s too busy watching the box to notice

“Why are you here, demon?” Virgil asks, getting straight (gay) to the point. “Are you Dolos Morel?”

“n̟̮̆ͦ,̯̫̖̦̼͚ͫ͐̋̊ͧ̄ ̝no̙” the box whispers through a cacophany of static

“Is Dolos Morel in this house?” Logan asks, more serious than Virgil has ever seen him on a hunt before.

the voice hesitates

then: “yes̰“

virgil and logan share a look. virgil opens his mouth to ask more questions, but then

“ÿ��͍͈ou͎̱͔͎̫̥̻ͤ͐̈́͐̔͂̚ ͖̭͙͙ͅh̤̠͔̜̲̙ͬ́ͧ̒̍̚aͨ̔̊͌ve̜̮͖͔̅͊ͭ̽ ̞͎̼͖̬̼̅ͦͦͨ̑ͪͮͅto ́̑̈ͫ̆͑le̳̹͛̈a̞̥͕͈̪̙̞v͖̇e̳͈͔ ͍͇̝̯̟̌̓̊̋̂y̜̍ou̺̱̪̼̟ ͉͇̹̼̗̭͕h͚a͐V̥̮̤͇̫̤E͓̹̥ͯ̓̈́̚ͅ ̟̔T̫̻̃͛O͖̫̞̰ ̂ͩ͆ͥ̈́L̬̳̞͔͇̪̲̊̔̎̽̄́̔E̲̩AVE͍̩̦̜͎ͩ̓͋̍̈́͐ͅ ̞̘̫N̿̋̉ͤ̽͋̆O̺͊W”

he wants to leave, his legs are about to give out, but the fear in the demons voice roots him to his spot.

“No!” he yells. “We’re not leaving.”

the spirit box goes silent. no crackling, no static; it’s like they turned it off

the air grows deathly still

“very well,” says a new voice, clear as day through the spirit box. “enjoy your stay.”

the world shifts and hisses and crackles and then goes dark.

when virgil wakes up, he’s in a dark room. his hands have been bound. he struggles and yells and screams for logan, and his stomach drops in terror when there’s no response.

“you can’t get out,” says the first voice they’d heard in the spirit box. it’s more subdued, a whisper. “there’s no escape.”

“fuck that,” virgil growls, never once stopping straining against his bonds. “tell me what the hell is going on. where is logan?”

he doesn’t know where this bravery is coming from, red-hot and acidic as he snaps at the demon he knows is waiting just outside. maybe he knows he’ll die anyway, whether he’s polite or rude as all hell

“i-i can’t, kiddo,” the demon says.

virgil hears remorse in his tone, maybe, and clings to it as his only hope.

“we came to help you,” he says. “but i need to know what’s going on. are you working with dolos?”

the demon falls silent. for a moment, virgil grows disappointed

but then the door opens and the demon stumbles in, his own clawed hands pressed tightly over his mouth

he meets virgil’s eyes, and shakes his head. no.

virgil remembers another unsolved legend he studied a while back: a man who would summon demons to trap them in agreements, getting himself eternal life, eternal power, and eternal fame in the process

“you’re trapped with him,” he guesses, and the demon jerks his head in a shaky nod.

he cant feel good about being right for long

a loud yell pierces the air and virgil’s lungs forget how to work. “let me out,” he hisses, as his mind screams logan’s name. “you have to let me out now.”

“I-I can’t!” the demon cries, tearing his hands away from his mouth. “Dolos forbade it, I can only attack —”

“Then attack,” virgil says without hesitation. he plants his feet firmly on the ground and says it again, tensing beneath his bonds

the demon lunges — virgil spins — and the demon’s claws slice right through the thick fabric tying him to the chair. they sliced through his shirt, too, and his back aches, but he doesnt have time to dwell on that.

he’s gotta save the man he loves

Logan stands across the room from Dolos Morel, among a minefield of broken chair bits. his face stings where dolos slapped him, and theres no chance of escape

but he’s smart. he’s cunning. he’s already gotten some of Dolos’ backstory and only confirmed what he already suspected

he hears a crash in a room down the hall and knows

he is not going to die here

virgil bursts down the door, brandishing a water gun like a deadly weapon, and soaks Dolos with a loud warcry

“Eat holy water, you shit!”

Dolos splutters. “I’m human, you fool. Holy water cannot harm me.”

“no,” logan says. “but this can.”

and he grabs Dolos and punches him directly in the face

logan shakes out his hand with a wince as dolos collapses to the floor and virgil becomes Too Gay To Function

and the demon steps forward and kneels beside his master, placing his hand on the weird symbol on the man’s left wrist.

Dolos wakes with a start as the demon grabs his hand. logan and virgil stand watch as red light fills the space between them

“s̺̱̆͑ͨͅa͍̣͌̾y i̒ͧ͌t̜͕ͧ̓” the demon whispers

dolos’ fight drains and he slumps against the wall, his glowing eye fading to dull brown

“I release you” he whispers, and crumbles to dust.

the demon stumbles away from the pile of dust. he sobs once, then twice, and then doubles over, trembling, his eyes overflowing with tears

logan laces his fingers through virgil’s as he straightens up

“Thank you,” he says hoarsely. “thank you, thank you, thank you.”

“my name is patton,” he says when he’s stopped sobbing, “and i owe you my life.”

BONUS:

so now virge n lo have a Demon Friend and theyve p much proved the existence of the supernatural, but they dont want to stop making videos

still, it’s a few weeks before either of them brings up the notion of finding another haunted place to investigate

but virgil cant stay away from the supernatural for long

“I found our next stop,” he says, shoving his phone into logan’s hands. “A theater mysteriously burned down there like, 60 years ago. they say the spot is haunted by the spirit of the man who died in the fire.”

logan scrolls through the article, and nods. “it looks interesting,” he says, and returns virgil’s smile.

“let’s go find this Roman Kingsley.”

i might make a second post abt roman if yall are interested owo

#sanders sides #virgil sanders #logan sanders #patton sanders #deceit sanders #villain deceit #tw deceit #tw demons #tw ghosts #tw death #tw death mention #ask to tag #WOW this got way longer than i wanted it to shdkfhdsflhsdk #im shooketh i love bfu so much already???#i couldnt Not make an au at least somewhat inspired by it #analogical #celeste's portfolio

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collective-laugh · 6 years ago

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Detective AU - Muriel x MC Chapter 5

Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four

@a-zoidberg-aesthetic@lesbiancountess @fartkittyonline @yaysam@y-all-dnt-ve@countgoatman-and-drleechboy @julians-chest-hair@vesuviass @caterpiller-tea @saltywerewolfrebel @obsessedwiththearcana@thatsaltyseaman@xburningwitch @i-dont-speak-wolf@missrabbitart @softarcana @ethereal—pisces @cfluffiness @lhm-2001

Chapter Song Inspiration: “It’s a Sin” by Eddy Arnold Summary: Asra finally gets some insight to the events of the past...and meets with a mysterious stranger

Chapter 5: Sin

“Do you have any intent to marry me, Asra?”

The question startled him, though he figured it was bound to happen sooner or later. People were getting married left and right, especially with the war finally ending, and he knew how important stability was to her, how much she needed it.

Her question didn’t have the malice he expected, though. It was concise, neat, like she’d been playing it in her head, over and over again, like she was deciding exactly how she wanted to say it.

He didn’t know what to say. He didn’t know how to tell her that the ring in his pocket was shaped just for her finger, or how he was, in fact, planning on marrying her.

She wasn’t angry, or even disappointed. Her expression was neutral, like that of the nun who used to smack her ruler against his knuckles.

The shock wears off before it’s too late to save the subject, and he puts on that charming grin he was so used to getting into trouble for. His arm winds around her waist, pulling her flush against him, pressing a kiss to her temple.

“Intentions are nothing, sweetheart.” His lips are soft as they trace the curve of her jaw, “I’m gonna marry you.”

She smiles, thrilled and seduced, and so very, very in love, tilting her head back just enough for him, “And what if the war sweeps you away from me?”

“I promised you, right?” He kisses her jaw, “I’m gonna marry you, one of these days.”

She pulls away, rolling her eyes, “One day soon?”

He kisses her, full on the mouth, tipping her chin, “Very, very soon.”

The train jolts, knocking his head against the window and pulling him out of the altogether unpleasant memory - dream? Dream of a memory? He didn’t know the terminology.

He checks to be sure that he still has his bag and that everything is still in place, and that Faust wasn’t hurt in the commotion. He was still shaken from the memory, and knew that he hadn’t been wrong in saying that intentions were nothing.

Obviously, as he was still entirely unmarried and she was still without a spouse.

The thought has tears springing to his eyes, and with the way the woman adjacent to him was already looking up at him from her book, he wasn’t too keen on her judgemental stares - though, he thinks, Faust was bound to draw a few confused looks.

He should’ve married her then, under the stars. She would’ve loved that, he knows, just he and her and the priest to have them hitched, and…

Fuck, his intentions were shit, and he felt like shit.

And he wasn’t an idiot. He saw how Muriel looked at her. But when he had her, he felt like…

He felt immune, like there was nothing that could tear them apart, like they would be married and have babies and have a normal life, and he would go work in an office and they could manage the house and they would be together -

Instead, she was stuck in that damp hole in the wall, all on her own.

He couldn’t help but hate himself for that.

At least Muriel was there for her. Maybe he’d finally make a goddamn move.

He stands, silently excusing himself from the cart and making his way to the lavatory, pushing past the steward, tears stinging his eyes and Faust curling. Blessedly, no one else had the same idea and he's free to bawl his eyes out while he slides down the door, idly reaching up to lock the door.

He hiccups, pulling his legs to his chest, and it's so overwhelming, thinking of her, of who she used to be, and the fact that everyone around her couldn't help but to fall in love with her.

A shaky hand reaches into his pocket, pulling the simple golden wedding band free, sobbing into his hand.

He’s known for a long time now that he’d never really have her, not like she was. She was still the woman he fell in love with all those years ago, but there was more than that - or, less, he supposed, considering she didn’t even remember who she was.

He was still in love with her, in the little things she did, in the way she scrunched her nose when she was annoyed or how she would dance when the radio managed to croak out a song she felt deserved to be graced with the sway of her hips.

Sometimes, if he was daring enough, he’d stand up and dance with her - not like there was much work coming in nowadays anyway - and spin her just so, and she’d smile at him in just a way that nearly convinced him that she could possibly feel something for him the way he felt for her.

But he knew better, knew better than to believe that she could feel anything other than confused. It was only a matter of time before she asked about her family, who she was before, what, exactly, drove her to him in the first place.

Or, more terrifying, it was a matter of time before she tired of the waiting game and left.

He couldn’t blame her for wanting to leave, but it might just kill him.

He could live with her moving on, with finding someone new, even if it was Muriel, or Doctor Devorak, or some other man who deserved to be loved by her, and he was grateful for having felt it, even briefly, no matter how much he craved more.

He could live with her staying, with her complacency. With the two of them living together and solving their cases and just trying to make ends meet. He could live with pretending like he didn’t love her anymore, as long as he knew she was alright.

But the world was cruel, and she had only seen hard times.

Faust headbutts him, concern written across her little snake face, and he wished that she could talk, that he could ask her advice, for anyone’s advice, really, because the longer this went on, the more taxing it became.

And then, like a sign from god, Faust nudges the ring in his hand. He takes a shaky breath, the tears finally stopping, but a sob threatening to rack his chest again. He stands, careful not to jostle Faust too much, and stands before the toilet, truly unsure if he was ready to do this, or, hell, if it was the right thing to do, but he couldn’t hold on anymore, couldn’t…

The ring lands in the toilet in time with his stomach dropping, and it hurts, so damn much.

But it’s swept away with the flush of the toilet, and he has to put a hand on the far wall to steady himself because he was genuinely frightened that he would topple at any given moment.

Faust wraps herself around his neck, and he walks back to his cart in a half-daze, never having felt so simultaneously free, yet stuck.

He practically falls into his seat, letting his hand rest in his hand, and the woman doesn’t even bother trying to hide her stares behind her book this time.

Fine. Let her stare.

Maybe he was being selfish, lying to her, keeping her there, giving her the job and holding onto her with every fiber of his being, but there was too much on the line otherwise. Losing her was...too much.

He does get off on the Nevivon stop, though. He wouldn’t lie to her about that.

But, that didn’t stop him from lying about his intent -

No, he didn’t lie. He said it was business. Actual, money-making business, that would hopefully save them all from the pits of poverty.

He’s set to meet the client at a diner that Dr. Devorak has probably frequented at some point, and another pang of guilt hits him at the thought of the doctor.

The diner is quaint, if a little tacky and decidedly understaffed, though there’s only one customer, sitting in a booth, without anything in front of her. He figures that she’s either the client, or she’s some passerby he’s about to start an awkward conversation with.

“Detective?” The woman asks, voice stern and experienced, and it genuinely rattles Asra to his core, wondering what this woman must have seen.

He covers his nerves with a charming smile, holding his hand out to her as he stands by the booth, “Call me Asra.”

She stands and looks at his hand like it might carry some disease, but takes it, shaking it firmly, “You can help me?”

“That depends.” He jests, taking a seat, the client following suit, “So long as I’m not killing anyone, we should be fine.”

Her lips are pressed in a thin line, eyes unimpressed, and Asra got the impression that she didn’t need him to kill anyone for her.

He clears his throat and asks, “Who are we looking for?”

“My child.” Asra’s heart felt like it was swelling into his throat. These were always the worst.

The kids were usually the dead ones.

Asra nods, taking a long, deep breath, “Alright. I brought a couple of things for you to fill out - can you give me your name?”

Her eyes flit over to the waitstaff, who still refused to take their order just yet. Her tongue darts out to wet her lips, and her name slips out in a hushed whisper, like it could really be such a big secret. He supposed it could, though, depending on how much shit she was in.

“Nasrin.” It almost pains her to say it, but Asra tries to remain level, setting the papers in front of her.

He would make this work. For her.

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shadowmooncat · 5 years ago

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Shenmue 3 Review PT2 *With Spoilers*

Reviewed and played by a veteran shenmue gamer.

I finally beat the game and what can i say about it?

NOT WORTH THE MONEY SEND IT BACK AND BURN IT!

First off despite the LONG amount of time I spent to upgrade kung fu, etc, money and all the shit I said before.. it was sadly useless and pointless. I should have expected as much from a game not with SEGA anymore. Sorry but now it gets a standard 2/10 from me.

First off after all the hard work, all the skill grinding all the stuff I went through, NOT A SINGLE BIT OF IT MATTERS BECAUSE QTE AND OTHER SHIT!

The story has left me speechless and not in a good way. Three games and finally *Spoiler Alert* after getting to Lan Di, it was pointless. No martial arts worked on him as predicted and Ryo got his ass handed to him as predicted. More mysteries have been left than solved. This game was a try hard mess.

Halfway through it.. I remembered something the PS4 has a knack for doing in games. MAKING MINI GAMES MORE IMPORTANT THAN ACTUAL GAMEPLAY!

For the love of Shenmue blacklist this game and send it back to the drawing board. This game itself felt like it was someones idea that got stolen, dragged through the mud to hid away anything that it was thought of by someone else, and then labled new. It wasnt even worth the money. This is like fishwrap but at least fishwrap has a point!! Their going to try to make a fourth game I heard but with how BAD this one was I think its going to be another 18 years before we get that. HAHAHAHA its insane. Still what do you expect about a game where a deluded like high school er with lots of money travels the world in search of a badass guy who kills his father easily, can do about that? I expected the end and really was wishing it wasnt that. Cliffhanger is bad enough but you didnt stand a chance in the beginning you dont stand a chance against the bosses you dont stand a chance against Lan Di you dont stand a chance against anything. All that training and all that money and all the work you put into this game is absolutely pointless. Most of your “moves” you learned are only to hold you off.

So simply put. Just watch this shit on youtube or something its not worth the money. Those of us who are Shenmue players for the story, will understand.

SAVE YOUR MONEY SAVE IT I TELL YOU!

This is no better than the kickstarter, ive seen good ones but this takes the shit pile. Whats more its like rubbing it into your face and stealing your money at the same time while you sit there forced to eat this shit and smile!

All in all THIS GAME IS NOT WORTH IT DO NOT BUY IT FOR THE LOVE OF THE GODS DO NOT BUY IT!

2/10! Shouldnt have expected less.. -.-

#Shenmue 3 #rant #review #terrible #not worth it #As told by #gamer

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sashasduke · 5 years ago

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𝐌𝐄𝐄𝐓 𝐒𝐀𝐒𝐇𝐀.

╰☆╮ YANDEH SALLAH , 19 , CISFEMALE , SHE/HER ☆ — wait , is that SASHA ‘SAS’ DUKE ? dean lockwood has been looking for them . you didn’t hear it from me but , apparently the SOPHOMORE might know something about the whole omega chi & kappa tau situation . while they can be PESSIMISTIC & IMPULSIVE , they’re far too PROTECTIVE & CREATIVE to be involved , right ? those who know them say they’re reminded of GOLD NAMEPLATE NECKLACES, PLACING FIRST AT THE SCIENCE FAIR, TELLING NEIGHBORHOOD KIDS THE HOUSE ON THE CORNER IS HAUNTED, AND TUNING OUT THE MISOGYNY OF 90S HIP-HOP . honestly , the FORENSIC PSYCHOLOGY major should try to keep their head down . after the events of last semester , lockwood is out for blood . did you know that SAS is a member of GAMMA RHO ALPHA & HOLLINGSWORTH ATHLETICS ? that might explain why their name is being brought up . ☆ XIOMARA (XIO), 24 , SHE & HER , & EST ╰☆╮

hi lovebugs !! im about to keep this intro short & sweet . i’m xiomara aka xio and this is sasha ( i also have ramses ). very happy to be here with all you beautiful people and your beautiful characters !! can’t wait to write with you and just chat tbh . you can message me whenever . i have a connections page here ( its empty lets fix that as a family ) and if you read this mess ily . ( tw death . tw murder ~ not detailed AT ALL . literally a footnote . ) & i believe that’s the only triggers . if you enjoyed this intro like & subscribe 🥰

𝐁𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐬 ―

name: sasha duke

hometown: brooklyn , new york

ethnicity: trinidadian ( mom ) , african american ( dad )

parents: inga & ralph duke

siblings: sean duke ( deceased )

age: 19

gender: cisfemale ( she / her )

sexuality: straight ( … but if she kisses a girl and likes it well then )

zodiac: aquarius

year of study: sophomore

major: forensic psychology

minor: natural science

extra-curriculars: gamma rho alpha , pitcher on hollingsworth softball team , employee at boom & busters

𝐁𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐠𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 ―

sasha wasn’t always a closet pessimist . once upon a time she believed in the tooth fairy and justice and that if you drank your milk you’d grow up big and strong

but , as we know , the tooth fairy was just a demon that collected teeth . and she drank milk until it poured out of her ears only to peak at 5 foot 5 . and the justice system failed the duke’s …. miserably ( more on that later )

raised by a science teacher & a wedding planner in a middle class neighborhood in brooklyn , she was one of two children . a spunky kid with guts and charm , sasha was a picture perfect child … but also v erica sinclair-y

she won science fairs all over brooklyn and entered every contest known to man . sasha even tried to break a guinness world record

unfortunately some of that tenacity left the day sean was murdered

no one knows exactly what happened that night , but the family has some ideas . the case was never solved and went cold after a year , but in the pit of her stomach , sasha knows the police department didn’t do their due diligence .

it seemed like everyone else tried to move on with their lives except for sas

enter her interest in forensics and psychology and all things crime solving !!

sasha has a pretty bleak outlook on life since the death of her brother , but she’s fascinated with , and maybe a little piece of her believes she’ll be able to solve her brother’s murder one day , solving crimes and all the science that goes into it

legit watches true crime shows all day . give her all the buzz-feed unsolved , give her all the i.d channel shows , give her snapped

her parents sent her to grief counseling , but sas believes she’s perfectly fine . she just knows everything and everyone is bullshit . this mentality put a wedge between her and her parents though. they think she’s troubled , she thinks they’re full of it

she kinda floated through high school & her teachers just had to understand because she never failed a class and they let her do a ton of makeup work , but she’s also v bright & excelled in science

her dad played in the minors before becoming a teacher so sports came pretty naturally to her . her fastball caps out at 92 mph and she’s a star player

between her grades and athletic prowess hollingsworth was a no brainer

she joined a sorority for a sense of sisterhood . plus she wasn’t getting that from home anymore

regardless of her pessimism (it boarders nihilism …. yikes !!) sasha is cool to be around . she has pretty dark humor sometimes , and she can be impulsive to the point of recklessness , but she’s a fiercely protective friend and creative problem solver .

she works @ boom & busters so she has a nerf gun at all times . beware

sas is the person you want in your corner . will legit fight for you

v bright , clever , has heaps of common sense and book smart too . but not in your face with it . she doesn’t need to be the smartest person in the room . also queen of random snapple facts

hard on the outside soft on the inside . please someone crack her open , she has nothing but love to give

loves a good party . loves to forget about the troubles plaguing society

can be quiet , kinda mysterious BUT her friends know otherwise

not big on emotions

dont ask for dating advice will tell you to dump their ass

𝐚𝐥𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 !!

roommates ( come on gamma theydies ) , GIVE US A DIVERSE CLIQUE , softball teammates or just sport friends ( the person she sits next to during away games ) , crushes , study buddies , hookups , ... exes ... IM DOWN FOR ANYTHING 🥰 this is kinda brief BC the possibilities are endless ... anyway THANK U FOR READING THIS XOXO

#hworth:intro #meet sasha

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nocancer · 6 years ago

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Tryna by Cancer moon

Before Young T went to bed he poured a glass of water and looked out the kitchen window to his backyard and noted how the snow made 3:00 A.M. look like 6:00 P.M.. Only difference being that if he stepped outside with his glass of water to the seeming twilight he wouldn’t be able to hear the rush-hour traffic like he usually could if it was Friday and 6:00 P.M.. Young T didn’t bother going outside because the snow was still falling a little and it’d be there when he woke up. And the neighborhood would still be silent, as it always was.

Young T woke up and his fan was still humming its white noise which he needed to sleep at night even though it was January and his dad was reluctant to leave the heat on over night. The small fan sat on his dresser and was pointed away from his bed towards his window which emitted a sharper and more blinding afternoon light than what he was used to. He checked his phone for the time, it was about noon - about the time where his parents bedroom door would open and their TV would blast the local news and his persian cat, Jo Jo, would meow at his door from which would force him out of bed to open the door so Jo Jo could jump up on his bed to sleep on his pillow from which he would either start his day or keep doing nothing. This time he laid back down, idly on his bed, with the covers pulled over his head to lessen the effects of his slight cat allergy. Jo Jo had a flat face and was grey and fat, and he occupied the entire pillow. Young T thought of how he wanted to trade lives with Jo Jo.

Young T couldn’t fall back to sleep, so he looked at his phone. He bireifly looked at worldstarhiphop, Twitter, then Instagram.

Then he went to bed with a head ache and woke up in college.

9/27/17 wednesday

Tycho: excuse me, hey, getting along just fine, I see? Yolandra: hey, and yeah, sort of, just studying, whats going on with you T: Nothing, the usual, i guess, being responsible, trying not to offend anyone. Y: Oh but you're so innocent. If anyone's offended its on them, not you. T: But my presence alone, I dont know, like I'm out of place or something. And I just want to tell people, Yeah, so, I know how strange it is, me being here and all. Y: You're a free spirit amongst prisoners. That was my favorite part about getting to know you.

Tycho: After all these years, not for a second did i think you were right for me. And thats why i liked you. Cus I'm crazy. Yolandra: thats okay? what do you mean?, i want to get inside your head again. T: [pause] Most people wouldnt understand. Y: Don't be too cool for school. Im not most people. If I knew what was good for me, I'd have cut ties with you a long time ago. But im a crazy bitch too. Havent you realized? T: Yes. Youre highly psychic when it comes to "free spirits" like me - and you, though maybe, "lost soul" would be a better term for me. Though I dont mind being lost. It keeps things interesting. Anyway, you should spend your energy on solving world hunger than worrying about me. Y: dont be so difficult. catching vibes isnt easy you know? coming for your type. Who knows, maybe youre worth it. Tycho: well, your the first to try me like this. im mysterious for a reason. Yolandra: And do you know why exactly? T: Thats for me to decide. Y: It's so damn frustrating. But I guess some things are better left unsaid. T: Most people wouldnt understand that, what youre saying. Indescribable feelings we know happened but fall short in explaining. That sort of thing. Y: I call those. "You had to be there" moments. Tycho: Honestly i never gave up on you, only myself, thinking you were different from my dream girl. it took months for me to realize that but when i did the only thing i wanted to do was forget i ever met you. Yolandra: than what? T: the rest of these simple people that surround us, they see in a way thats opposite of what i am. Y: how convenient it must be. to blame your problems on people you dont even know. and just say "fuck it." I envy you. T: just my luck haha. of being born into myself, my personality forgive me, i dont mean to be such a downer. thats my ego talking Y: you had to be there T: where? Y: in my memories. T: it matters that much to you? Y: if I could find you in a crowd, just to say something, anything, even if i have to scream it in your ear, then you'd know how much it means to me. Tycho: I'll be waiting for you to say hola.

9/30/17 saturday In the midst of an obnoxious trap beat I remember what my grandpa used to tell me. It's the harsh realities of life that stick with us the most. A dream is only a dream until you make it come true. Never hit a women no exceptions." He would say to a 7 year old me. Now I wish I had the balls back then to tell him that his strict army ass probably never had a dream that went beyond what he already knew. Like revisiting the same shitty cloud of meaningless thoughts every night till you reincarnate into someone who revisits a slightly less shitty cloud over and over until they become someone like me, who lives on the cloud everyone strives to be, forgetting those elvish looking folks of the below who never leave the house except to get groceries. There's comes a point in life where you just gotta be honest with yourself, and say hey, i just dont match the freqeuncy anymore. It's okay. I can still pretend like that one MGMT song, but im fading away. Fuck. I get naseous and imagine a cop coming around the corner which kills my vibe for a second so I take my headphones off, spit on my finger tip, ash the blunt, and walk to my dorm. I'm in water so muddy that the surface is all I have to cling onto. What lies beneath is my past, housing the memories like demons. Of course, her face, would be in the middle. Falling more faintly in detail as I wake up sober and go to sleep high and dream nonsense that somehow doesnt go away like the usual forgotten dream you usually wouldnt give a second thought to otherwise but this morning my head feels foggy and theres a vague recollection of a search going on but I dont know what it's for and my chances of knowing diminish as I go deeper into the day. A search, it's on repeat, like my brain is an actual TV. Thats probably a normal thought to have, though I've never heard it in real words. "Is my brain a TV." I say to myself. if you can call it that. but those take the shape of monsters of which, as if I had no choice, I find myself preparing for so when the moment really matters, I can either go down in a blaze of glory or come out on top like the badass I imagine myself to be. All I know is that I was born and now I have to live.

Maybe because my past is so glaringly depicted onto a person I refuse to acknowledge. All that shit was a dream. The only thing that matters is the present, right? Bill Nye the Science Guy would agree with that. Back in elementary whenever we had a sub for the day, a cart would roll in and thats how you knew. I watched his show in elementary school, when we had a substitute teacher. Those were the best days. I had no worries then, able to speak freely with no inhibitions as if duality had nothing to latch its mechanical claws onto. Wait, I'm thinking about the past again. And thats going way back. Fuck! Okay.. On your feet soldier! That baby momma drama dont fly out here in the real world. out here it's the winners and the losers, haves and the have-nots, thats the way it is.

We're here to endure anxiety. I dont care about this slave shit. I think im gonna drop out. These fucking people bro, I shouldve known better than to come here. Deep down in the recesses of my highly realized capacity for recognizing everyday objects I'm hearing the voice my computer makes. It just so happens that I'm a little different from everyone else. I see things. Feel them. Some are expressed. Others proccessed. Though most get put away for later. These things I speak of is all they'll ever be to Some bad. Some good. But in the end I understand the root cause is nothing and thats where I pretty much exist anyway. In between any and all things, including people. At least that what it feels like. So although I may come off as shy and maybe a bit soft to the average layperson I aint no bitch and I wont hesitate to put my body on the line to make some headway when it comes to cementing my place as a savage demon in the halls of said layperson's memory bank. Someone who is wise would recognize the virtue of my conviction It is only because I must prepare for that singular moment, an unknown point in the fabric of time and space. To where if theyre not careful, a life's worth of energy should be pitted against me as if one were to stand a chance against the power housed within my vessle. Theres no such thing as a polite gesture. Nobody asks me how my day is "going" for no other reason than to relay to me how their own special day is "going". reckoning between a humble acknowledgement that I can never truly grasp the reason for existing and therefor should play my part in keeping the peace, versus pure badass in a world of sheep. And the more I get to know my surroundings, the more I reach erradically for the inherent bliss found within the path of satanism.

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Spmewhere off in the distance, Crermoth sits on a palm tree idly sculpting astral suspensions into a tattered fervor of mesh for working the keys of ineptitude. She is oblivious to her surroundings, not caring for chatty and gossip which she cant seperate between her reality and theirs because she is sensitive and when the the fully recognized sage, Esoh, confronts her about she says she much prefers it that way.

Their balance among them. With the wind at her side, Hojihka refuses the initial preference of her stillness and moves in a nameless precession by the whim of her ancestral birth right. "aaa may-ee soo shay-noo"

Her possession wakes up without a name. a new and more elaborate transposition of jubilee onto each successive indifference. The attention to one area renders the outer confines a vacuum enveloping the excess span unto both of their liable to taken over like a plain, sole, unconscious will. It certainly does its job Crermoth and has become something of a plan b pill thats taken during one of her many unpredictable episodes of self hate and general spiritual torment. One time she told J-Money she was a demon in a matter of factness that still haunts J-Money in moments when he pretends it doesnt bother him.. Reliant upon the interaction of her world and the next. Crermoth normally prefers being to herself on nights like these, that way she can answer any calls at a moments notice. A dimension close enough so that she may assist her friends in earthly manners of which, by the natural law of limitation, those lacking the incessant nobility of the Orisha cannot be bothered to see to themselves, less the tether between her world and theirs be rendered a useless tattered fervor of mesh that gives way to any varitable knock of an over arching brood of usurpment of the mundane frequency. “I need space. I only have but so much light of see to her calling as a being of light, assisting the pieces of herself that we’re lost during the falling. You remember that don’t you?” She says “Of course I remember. But only as a matter of fact. Upon closer reflection I fail to see the relevance of a subtle hunch with no bearings in the present.”

I must know that I’m allowed to be straight up with you, else I run the risk of straying from my calling. If there’s anything I hate more than being ignored its catching myself being lazy to the voices. “She musn’t veer to far.” Esoh said on a mountain.

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The woman wakes up to look around. Store-bought soil, empty bike-rack, office building. "Harder. Think harder. Come on girl." She stands for dignity's sake. A car traces a hilltop in the distance. She raises her cold arms to the sun in defiance of stillness. Nothing is in tune with the nature of her being besides the stale wind of a coming day. "Where are you?" The car freezes as it reaches the horizon, but the sound remains on loop. Whirrrrr A portal manifests abruptly and Elegua arrives on a chariot of skulls. "Erzulie, madame, how nice it is to see you this early in the morning." A whisp of fire cleans her face and the car continues over the horizon. "It really shouldnt be, not like this. Where Im at should tell a lot you know." Erzulie said. "Quite a dense reply to a longtime friend, dont you think" "Hmm, considering how I slept in a bush last night and dont remember a thing. I shouldnt need to explain myself." "No? is the friz on your hair not matching the blood on your knees? I can't tell which." Elegua said. Or is the attitude possessing you as if theres no consequence for ill-manneredness? I cant tell which." So long as one's not so dense up his selfish ass that he aint notice." "Oh so now all a sudden you about the finer things in life? We can switch places less you miss me. Erzulie said. Im only pointing out the obvious." Elegua said. Erzulie replied with silence, forcing life to flash before his eyes. She learned this from her Mother, Darkness. "Attitude is possessing you. I cant tell why but its a poison I dont deserve. I was only trying to help" He continued. "I just dont fuck with being called too early. So long as youre not too dense up your ass to take notice, safe to say i'm in some shit right now." "Clearly. A product of consequence." Elegua said randomly. "Yeah, recognize. Please, for me, baby?" "No more testing your patience, Goddess immortal of justice. Save that for what I came to tell you about." "Take me to cleanliness, saintly promise of wisdom. For im not feeling myself." They left the scene to the past and pondered on the pyramid they had just made with each other. "It's nice to be home." Erzulie said. Flying over the palm trees brought Elegua back to his power. "On the basis of love." Elegua said. The salt-water washed away all glimpses of doubt Erzulie had of her beauty. And she harnessed the pastels of the ocean. Thus, all guilt was abolished and unconditional love was convinced to dance within them. Drying his body under the rays of Amen reminded Elegua of his first words. Long ago, before Time was born. "O Father, you are so brilliant." "Thank you, son. I am the Light" "Then tell me, Father, if you are the Light, and are so brilliant, then why is it you flee from Darkness?" "All I do is my purpose, which seeks to balance harmony with creation. Although it is much more complicated than that. Like always I suppose. I'm afraid you ask me a question that I cannot answer. Here, because you are so curious, I will show you." "I'm ready, Father." Light grew brighter causing Elegua to cry in his recollection of what it felt like to say words. The links in his mind straining to pull in the right words. Not too plain to where the moment would be lost in happen stance, and not too radical so that his manhood could stay irrefutable (to convey meaning.) Then Light disintegrated into everything and Elegua searched for Light ever since. So Elegua went to the crossroads, and prodded Darkness for Light's wherabouts, "I want to relive the the moments before he left for eternity. Where can I find him?" Without a hug or a kiss, she told him to let go of his experience in order to live in the now, "Take his place and move forward. Grow up, your Daddy's gone cus you never did." "How could you say that me? I love you, Mom. Yet all I get is hate. Why are you hiding the truth from me?" "If I don't hate you, then who will? You got so much to learn that my heart breaks into brass. You must leave, understand me? LEAVE, before I do what your Father did and them some. I'm this close. Believe me." With nowhere else to go, Elegua obeyed the commands of his Mother. Although lonely at first, the spirits of the dead related to his despair, and offered to guide him through all the known and unknown realms of Ether, so long as he guided the spirits of the living to his Mother. So that the dead could learn for themselves the origins of their being dead. And when Light came back, they could say "Father, we know of Hate, now teach us Love." Elegua tried telling them that it was hopeless, that his Father was there, just not in the way they imagined, that they we're actually his Father and they had to realize it through an altered perception. but that negativity only made them more adament to their cause which annoyed Elegua into a manic spell of existential irony which persisted during times of war with the Snakes on 5th density. One battle in particular Badly wounded, he pulled his chariot with his arms to the middle of a corn-field on a full-moon during the Solstice, it was there he made a pact with his self, to never be ignorant to the fact that fate was an inescapable constant within all contributors to existence. That the very fabric that distinguishes the dead from the living was comprised of scattered shards of an indestructable essence that attached itself to the spirit-body via fate which is the Father of destiny. That the collective conscious is woven by the thread of Fate, thus binding a common goal, or Destiny, inherent to all beings of both polarities, thus setting in motion the spiral of gnosis, which lends itself to the spreading of keys that open the doors to helping each other fulfill each others Purpose. "I will collect the pieces of my Father so that I may speak with him again as I did as a child. I will never forget you because I love you. You are everything to me, which is all I ever could be. Please, I want to know why you flee in the face of Darkness."

____10/9/17 monday

My pace quickens as I veer away from the crowd onto the handicap stairs. I silently count my steps to give off a pensive, non-assuming vibe. Over by the quad theres crows just walking on the grass. Yet I'm the only one who seems to notice, even from a distance. The busses haul ass down Memorial St. I've learned to always be on alert because I'll never know whats waiting for me when I turn my attention off the floor and become reminded of string theory. Artificial energy, cork boards with grime on the edges, tunnel of dull ends, spongy plywood cielings. as i step with my head down and in every so sudden a demarcation in the bricks, the reptiles answer emails. This is where I'm going. Because my soul chose to live here at some point in time not too long ago considering the relationship between all that the universe has to offer and my general apathy towards said all as in any and all one. Which has become quite of a bore ever since the first week ended I had to come to terms with the reality that friends won't simply fall into my lap like they would if I wasnt such a masochist for being lonely. The row of pillars turn to one and all I see is the contentment in the air of the lobby. In the hallway are casually turned faces which glide about in a linear fashion like the ghost of a lost bride.. I get a side-view of the people afraid to admit that this is far from the paradise we expected it to be. The brochure in our acceptance letters didn't include the drunken nights of another dimension. I'm inside the life of an architect. One who's dead by now, but lives on through his work. I'm not going anywhere, the building would say, if it could talk. And I suppose it can. Because I just had the thought, and nothing is ever truly wrong without another thought to compare it to. But then if buildings could speak existed first, and was allowed to grow and find its place in the universe, then it'd be established enough to not warrant an adversary. But the question remains where, if it existed, was its fate organized before coming into my mind, awaiting my final judgement. Substitute me for a unicellular collective conscious and it seems like we're all dealers of fate her on planet earth of the milky way of the universe of the whatever comes next (should we ever know for sure). he or she deserves all the credit for it manifesting onto the grid of my consciousness, which is a zig zag joint's worth of a high right now. The perfect amount for not giving a fuck while still staying slick enough for witty comebacks. Which wouldn't hurt right now. This building isn't going anywhere. Though I wish it would. Because I dread what I'm about to do How he must have pained to communicate something he could call his own while maintaining a dignified and safe, always safe, because god forgive, well, you know, , putting the pen to the pad, drawing collumns in front of a Victorian fassad Succumbing to authority just to eat with a roof over your head and not freeze your ass off like a homeless freak. Profit margins in the final half of quarter one are lower than 1 standard deviation to what is considered by corporate to be optimal. As of now, the college has no incentive to ship in product from outside sources. All inventory must be stored in house to the buyer's demand. You better not be late.

___ On the parking deck

Tycho: “I had a dream I was on an internet forum. Someone posted the words: “life is an endless hell. With a blurry picture of a street at night-time. Not much different from what’s in front of us. I thought that made sense, until I scrolled down, to see a video looking out the windshield of a vintage rolls royce, coasting along a pacific highway. And the lines kept going. Next thing you know I’m falling down a pitch black waterslide, dreading my destination. If I never woke up I have a funny feeling i know where it was leading.

Preacher: In that instance did you feel the need to repent for your sins?

Tycho: No. that didn’t cross my mind. It was too late at that point.

Miranda: “I used to.

T: What made it stop?

Miranda: Seeing all the happy people around me. And knowing that they’ve been through the same shit. Break-ups, Death in the family, just generally feeling lost.

My heart was broken ”

T: Getting over the mind can be a dark place when it has nowhere else to rest. You can train it to think anything.”

Miranda: True

Tycho: Lately Ive been taking these long drives late at night into the boonies. Just to see where I up. I realized theres so many lives I’ll never know about.

If i wasnt born into money maybe I’d be humble enough to hate myself for even thinking such a thing.

How’d you get out of that?

Miranda:

These know it all professors are getting on my nerves. I fear Im crossing into an abyss I’ll never fully understand. Honestly I can’t fuckin stand these people. What name do I have to make for myself that i haven’t already experienced in the depths of my soul?

Tyco: You know how they try to act like they all official and shit, like I won’t see past it.

Miranda: [agreement] They do that.

Tyco: [stream of consciousness] So I just told her look I know its a rule, but I’m all about learning at my own pace and no disrespect i love her but Mrs. Soso can only go so far in telling me how to write. You can give tips and tricks but at the end of the day, I’ve been developed my writing style.. Like I thought we were done with all this high school shit. Well I didnt say that.

M: And what’d she say?

Tyco: She was like “As you get further into your major 90% of your assignments will be in essay format.. we require full participation “ At this im like she gonna hit me with the book like hell nah THEN outta nowhere She said “However, I also believe in 2nd chances.”. On the outside I was cool but inside I was like “*fist bump* yo i cannot fail outta college like someone watchin out for me idk who but-

Chad: fuck that shiiiiit *holds up white rum in front of street light”

Friend in background: 12! 12! 12!

Abrupt scene change. Camera shows Tyco zoned out. Then police car, as Tyco begins to hide behind the tree hes smoking on.

My black hoodie and phone-call to my dealer will still be with me tomorrow as I do the same thing.

(From a dream 10/23)

Tyco is driving around serving with Shantel when she lights her phone up from the passenger seat and puts the phone to her ear.

Shantel: You are not finna be talkin all that mess on my phone. Be honest with yourself. Don’t lie. You a hoe ass bitch.

?? Caller: Why are you even calling me? I dont give a fuck.

Shantel: Wait till I pull up then and slap the shit out you. Would that be better sweety?

?? Caller: I’m at Kawaii’s 30 deep. Bring your lil boyfriend and see what happens.

Shantel: Try me bitch.

[ The economy sedan turns right on red seemingly without breaking. ]

Tyco: 30 deep huh?

Shantel: With them ratchets.

Tyco: She sounds scared as hell aint nobody sticken up for her like that. You know they gonna talk shit right but soon as we throw them hands they gon be like, I dont know that bitch.

Shantel: nah but she stupid tho like not even worth all that extra

Tyco: We’re going. Wheres that nigga house i’ll waze that shit and we get there we just pop off. Aite?

[Not looking at the road, but to her, coasting down an average 2-lane with box neon trimmed tire shops and drive-thru windows governed stately as immovable beasts of mothership stores lurk behind low-sodium trenches of the new world order’s surveillence agenda for mass poplations en masse. ]

Just follow me. I’m walkin in and gonna start a commotion just bussin and you just break this bottle on her mother fuckin head and we out.

Shantel: haaah what okay

Tyco: You’re gonna fuck her shit up som serious.

Shantel: She talk shit about you.

Tyco: It’s in the stars babe for real.

Shantel: You gonna help me find that bitch?

Tyco: You my fucken queen I love you and I got you.

Neighborhood entrance.

Cars parked for miles.

House identified first glance.

Park.

Car doors..

Hip-Hop

Grass.

Walkway.

Steps.

Porch.

Door opens and yellow tops within the frame.

!! WHERE YOU AT// YALL FAKE AND CANT FINESSEE !!

AAAAAH YOU UGLY DARK SKINNED NIGROS

The caller is sitting on a couch ass to ass with other dudes. Looking stupid.

She never saw Shantel. Who came upon her like The Ring.

She has become a party magnet. It is a Slayer concert now. Nobody knows who’s who. Though Tyco is surely getting his ass beat. He catches of glimpse of Shantel’s fat ass ducking through the doorway and he could die right now and it wouldnt matter.

*GUN SHOT*

FUCK GOIN ON HERE MANE

“This not the place for you bro. - White boy comin up here in my place of business - Tryna pop shit off like you really not a bitch”

Kawaii looks up with his glock-9 extendo at his GD party mostly all gone just like that. The poor girl is still leaking.

“She need to go to the hospital.” Her friend says.

He points the glock at his head. Despair.

“Look around before I kill you.” An invitation.

Tycho: “I sold a 4 oz today after my accounting exam. I could be GD, 74, rock purp. whatever it be its nothing but Respect yo. Got connects with chad and Becky nahmean dog. Could put you on to some numbers they white and they fiends. Please OG.

“How much for a zip.”

“80, gas.”

“Was that yo bitch?”

“yea”

Kawaii: You lyin to me?

“No.”

“She eat your ass?”

“Yeah and bounce on my BIG ASS DICK” Tyco says with autism.

K walks away.

T: they don't even sell Molly bruh

K is you fucken high you dummies. Beat this nigga ass. *Tyco imagines the why the fuck you lyyin vine and remembers the exact moment he realized that wasnt an original song but actually a spin off of a classic throwback jam by the 90s R&B group “Next” in their hit single “Too Close”.. He was driving home from the cafe he used to write high school essays in while smoking a menthol american spirit with the windows rolled down on a spring evening playing KISS 104.1 Atlantas classic jams. Then he realized there was a full 6 minute video of the vine on youtube. After watching it he felt gayer. Thats all it did for him.

Tycho wakes up on living room floor.Terry (random G, on couch): *Hands him note× Kawaii said he's sorry. No hard feelings ya heard dog?

Tyco: I guess thugs act on impulse. *looks at note* and don't count on a gahdamn thing you bitchass motherfuckers. Tyco walks into class with a black eye. The Professor talks about interest loans. Tyco meets Moe after class in parking lot.

*Moe: Waddup

Tyco: It's lemon og I just got in.

Moe: Bet. Those last cookies you got. Bomb dude. It had them frar mother fuckers leanin like they can't handle that purp like that nahmean.*laughs*

Tyco: I got some backwoods you wanna hotbox.

Moe: Yo I'm down.

10/24/17 thursday

____ Last night I decided not to hate myself. The look I get from them doesnt bother me. Really, its a simple sign from nature that I’m used to by now. A wrong impression can sustain the fog of memory, of which I will be seen from the lens of another dimension, with not a care in the world, an angel in disguise. Thats the crux of my life up to this point. To no longer hate myself. But appear as if I still do. The nameless place in our past with no address., one of which even a frat boy can relate to. This invisible standard that’s thrown us into the pits of despair must be addressed. To seperate the real from the fake. Like the others are sleep walking through class fronting like they dont see me. The pyramid of perspective is an accordian overlayed on my third eye, televising scenes of sleep walkers who stay fronting like they dont see me. Walking behind the parking deck where green dumpsters were with my phone to my ear is a feeling that remains within me until I do the same thing over again in a few days. Buying in bulk never appealed to me. And if a 20 a g was the price thered be nothing my lonely ass could do. Fuck this worthless paper, I tell myself.

I tell myself. Anyone who catches my glimpse pauses for a split second, calibrating my own opinion of the why in life. A definition of nuance that was never meant to be expressed but felt. To sense what I’ve been wanting, free and alone, after all those wasted days.

I’m signalling. Though I havent been approached yet.

Figuring that would resolve the look I give other people. I mean, christ, I turned 18 last March. And spent the Summer in a last ditch effort to secure an identity before I made my plays in college. For too long I’ve avoided the call of the light and in return have gotten blank stares.

(SOMEHOW gets wrapped up into a petty conversation with sorirty girl (on top of parking deck.)

Clarissa: I was the only one alone in the entire party.

Tycho: Why didnt you leave?

T: Dont worry I dont wanna know your major.

C; Good cus it keeps changing.

T: You think you know everything dont you? This world aint nothin babe.

C: Why do you say that?

T: What do you wanna know? That I get money? Thats nothin.

Clarissa drifts off.

Hannah: So Stacy’s telling me the banners weren’t in that right place and we’re like an hour away from starting and we still haven’t even got the chairs in order and barely anyone who was suppose to be here has shown up yet.

Tycho: Where were they?

“Well for one, Candace, I dont know whats her problem lately, but shes been gone because her best-friends now telling her she’s not rushing anymore but thats honestly a relief because that girl wheres winged eyeliner and thinks shes better than us.”

Tycho: Oh, I think I’ve seen that girl at the library or something.

I intuit that in order to justify her reasoning for not liking the winged eyeliner girl, that she channeled my very own resonant storm cloud of which I emit silently in the face of vanity..

H: Well you’ll probably see her there a lot more cus shes definitely not with us.

“Okay so thats one.” I say as if taking notes.

“Then Rachel’s out at some charity event that I never even heard of probably with a guy she’s not telling us about which is so frustrating that of all days you pick friday night at the peak of rush to go be a hoe behind our backs.”

“Did she ever show up to the party?”

“Yeah. And she was fucking drunk.” She said as if surprised but not really because this is Rachel we’re talking about, after all.

“Like wasted orrr “

“Damn I didnt know yall got down like that.”

“Umm when youre stumbling through the door and your first words to all the new girls is hallelujah bitches!

She wasn’t with a guy.

“So tell me more about the party. Like was there”

who nobody knows anyway

is that Cheyenne is just out of it because her friends now telling her she doesnt want to rush anymore and for one its like look,

Wait, who’s hannah?

Hannah’s the leader of her sorority.

Ooooh, Okay, I see why now

-Yeah, I mean if word got around that would literally mean she was going around their backs to cover up that she was lying.

> Right. Yeah I hear what you sayin. She’s trying to make it seem as if it never concerned yall in the first place but if thats the case then she dont need to be acting like she got the right to be trusted.

This goes beyond reputation. Manipulating emotions just cus she has none of her own. Conniving biitch. just to get her way goes beyond reputation.

Aint nobody wanna be around that energy.

> So what you tell her?

I get schizophrenic when it comes accepting new ways of being. The person I made him out to be was the perfect cure for my suffering. All those forgetful nights of boredom I knew what I needed all along, but was to scared to do it myself.

------ Frat house halloween party kidnap scene ----

GD shaman prays to shango for power to go out by mantra. Squad in car repeats the same mantra. The power goes out at 1:00 (or peak of the party).

Tycho throws blue flare through the side of the window

at the Tycho must find Chad and lure him downstairs near the door so the squad can get the keys to the room full cocaine and adderal. After looking everwhere he’s no where to be found. He walks in on a couple having with the girl in missionary with devil ears. “Yo chad that you?” Its

(fuckem x3) Music stops from power so he sneaks in wireless speaker in his robot costume and puts it at one end of the room. Squad member 1 will carry bigger wireless speaker and set it down when he storms in. Tycho also brings a timed strobe light to distract people and keep the illusion of the party still going.

Tycho runs down stairs and towards door with chad chasing him. Squad slaps tape and mask on him and carries like a battering ram although theyve already kicked the door.

*Power turns back on*

“Fuck em, fuck em, nigga get out my section

Don’t want to see him, I don’t want to touch him

*waves zippo lighter in front of face so chad can see him through mask*

“Ima count 3 seconds and your dead on 5 if i dont get this combination” says calmly. thus saiyth the lord thy god”

“Three... No mercy”

“Two.. Shall be given unto those”

*gives code*

“One.”

Love takes many shapes and forms.Tycho never opened up to people, hating himself for being incapable of feeling what others felt. He wanted more so he went spiritual. Which his close friends perceived as going off the deep end."Ayy whatsup bro you tryna smoke?""I have a calc exam tomorrow but I'm down after."Aight good luck on your studying tonight and then kill it tomorrow I know you got this calc is your specialty can't say the same for me but that's why you always tutored me haha."Let me know if you need more help. Figuring their was no bounds and he could be whatever, even silent, and experience irony rather than fate. How bland, he thought, to have a life plan and nothing to look forward to. Running drugs would be a necessary chain reaction. The highest elixer exceeding the bliss provided by the very weight he'd be pushing, itd be getting off on defying his own life, leaving spirit his only option. And so like a blackbird his soul seeks experience only in the clearest degree of visibility. Swerving transgressions of lonliness to levy the burdens of contrived responsibilities at societies every turn until his flight patterns veer from the trodden path to and fro the calling of reality in which he desires to preside over as a God of many statures. Untainted by works, head first into the entity of the adversary, of which he is able to predict the situational consequence in only a glimpsing moment before havoc ensues and the final hour is upon him, his loose wings coated with astral charcoal of depravity. Be caught slipping once and he loses the jump until the enevitable program takes its course - an unstoppable relationship between fate and reckoning that must be fulfilled as day turns to night. Once that happens he reverts back to being like the rest of them. Yet to the world, now desolated beyond repair, hed still be alive, exuding a calm presence that something is not quite right with him existing without remorse. The truth is simple enough, a hint just ever so slight as to never be able to cross the threshold of utterance, thus becoming rendered a convinction of self delusion on the part of the unknowing accuser, who by this time hates himself for even thinking badly of such a good guy to make peace with. The collage curtails past the illusion of what is already known and at last the watchers take notice and thus regeneration is able to take place along all the land, allowing for new energy to take the throne of anticipation. One that has harnessed the potential to become anything the wonder puts his mind too. So what if I'm imaginative? Yolandra: I mean everyone's different in their own way. Like yeah the soroitys have a dress code and all that Starbucks and capris. But I don't know. You just have to get know a person for who they are and not how the outside world perceives them to be. T: So what'd you first think of me? Yolandra: Honestly not much anything. You were one of those people who could be anything. But then I overheard you say taurus's are gold diggers and I hated you cus I'm a taurus. T: Oh sorry I really didn't mean it like that but c'mon now I can tell you have a taste for finer things you bougie little.. Boob. *laugh\ haha "you know what I mean" It doesn't bother you? What? That so much could go wrong so quickly? Look, deep down he's telling you his heart lies with getting over and you let him because that's /just what you like about him, how deep he gets. cus he's a sad and selfish individual who was never about loving anything other than vanity. The best thing to do would be to trust his actions, intentions aren't what's important right now. Really, forget about the soul connection. Loves comes through all types of people as long as you're open to receiving them. Those energies. Don't lose yourself in the illusion. Without ever taking credit for what truly matters which should be you. Then your fashion made sense to me. T: I'm so caught up in myself. I mean, it's impossible to know anything else. I'll never get to stand in your shoes. Its just truth. Yet I'm the bad guy. You're not like the other people I've met. T: Yeah I'm kind of loner if you couldn't tell already. I guess that's a good thing.T: Hey it's okay. I get that a lot... Wait what do you mean you guess? Ive found that who evers saying does a 180 in their normalcy. Knowing your even here right now is a good thing. Knowing that you're with me even when im not. Don't you think? Starting out with confidence and ending strong to be lucky if I'm not hurt. Tell me what you want out of this. Sometimes I feel so lame, then I realize how fun itd be to not care. Through the window screen i see parchments and grass blades, this is an image I've sought to ignore for its blandness thinking I was over recognizing such mundane structures. The sunlight made me drunk with non verbal contemplation. I crave this heat when I'm in low spirits. And a breeze when I'm high. My thoughts are channeled from a lonely place (My thoughts come from a lonely place) I've had no choice but to become accustomed to for my own sanity. To work faster and breach that veil of reckonning. So unreachable and enticing at the same time.T When I'm alone, welcome something more than the past if you ever cared to help me. This isn't the only world out there. And even if it was the material would eventually reach infinity. Then a black hole would open or something. Don't quote me on that, science is the hottest thing going right now. It cant hurt to butt in unofficially. As long as no one calls you on it. The universe molds to your confidence. That's another story. At the end of the day, I have too much pride to be a scientist. The God they're serving calls for a lot of self sacrifice. A self that ignores emergency when called to speak. A self i'm not prepared to lose. "Why are you here again, nothing will change, you're gonna be quiet like last time" any handle on reality I had during the sun rise flees like an ex girlfriend into the night. I'm not prepared to lose. Anxiety is that humid feeling you get when roughnecking the time away. Jaded peripherals, internet browsing, and fading friends initiate a color spectrum so cruelly vivid in its inability to be shared with the CVS cashier who looked at you wrong because you bought 3 4oz bottles of robitussin. A man who couldnt care to see the streets, stop signs, and traffic lights. Man is a slang term we use when caught in the moment. Of which matrix programming loves to grasp onto. --- 10/25/17 wednesday So here I am enjoying a piece of lackluster nothing for the sake of something I've agreed to experience in a past life I can't even remember but somehow must make amends to as if its an actual concrete thing I can touch and make sense out of without caring to ponder how life puts us in these type situations like getting your hair done a new way and meeting a friend of a friend superficially without ever following up like aight word up bro I feel you by the way hows life and what's the special fact I should become one with in this moment while not thinking too much in to things or else id be alone as if we're not alive under the stars for any other reason than to be happy but still to me that becomes too much like a flash in time rather than something meaningful because then sex would have to be our purpose for being here but you and I both know it's more complicated than that so we look into it via memories and realize the journey was brighter than the reward as in I don't remember the actual sex part but rather the day as a whole with stained glass sprinkled in on a film reel to push the past into something real and unexplainably alluring to the self of which we projected this light onto in order to perhaps know in advance maybe how to repeat this metaphysical phenomenon for a second time because we're not quite there yet although at this rate if seems that to finally reach a state of thereness would mean we wouldn't be able to be here right now having this conversation like a building block struck from below or a house of cards we have to keep faith that every moment plays its part because we had an emotion for it and therefore couldn't be rendered to nothing in a wreckless attempt force it all together rather let each tile compliment it's neighbor and bypass the need for destruction by allowing enough caring energy to flow through that filter mechanism within you that deems lifes moments as worth remembering or forgetting and pretend you never heard about forgetting and avoid it like the plague because everything that ever was is depending on you to go forth into righteous so that gods original intention for letting go of unwanted baggage be synthesized within your vessel of upgrades intelligence so that the journey can still be appreciated only this time without th deceptive veil of the end. to question the little things that somehow don't mean much but at the same time appear to us daily as conduits for good fortune and thats what we must uphold ___ 11/2/17 thursday

I you and me playcated on a surface of stones that match our longing to search in the wrong places. Convenient are we done such a conceivable time that is time which is also time because what more can be said other than us winding down a fire escape to an inexplicable hatch sitting like paper mache on our transformative spiritual natures. Gone already but not forgotten just make sure to take the negative side of every situation involving 1 or more parties so as to make sure the rythym is in order because you can't go wrong with challenging the status quo of an area you're not suppose to be in even if that seems too easy and superficial it's the right choice because even the idea of rebellion as a bad thing must be able to project into a physical thing prompt for examination so secrets may be revealed. Wouldn't you know i stopped believing in faith due to its redundancy of chasing metaphysical strings too far out for us to put into words and isn't that the source of all our angst. Depraved of propositional phrases and elemental tables it's all so clear to me now. Casandra had a bag and Mikey had his sneakers in the forefront like a low hanging fruit but of course they had personalities that weren't so easy to see unless the hard work of interfacing came into the equation. Lets judge people based on judging for the sake of basing ourselves onto something not within our realm of reality. Perception is a hard question i think maybe inanimate objects could tell us a thing or two. Low pressure sodium lamps.Documentorial lecture hall amps failing to reach the end of the pyramid turned 90 degrees away from its focal point. May disease not reach our unexplainable selves if ever they may inhabit our temporary vessels like a friend who has no friends but you and wants desperately to get along with others but is attached to your ways. Are we in hell? What can our astral travels tell us about signaling locations with Etheric marks of time dialation. Things are what they are by defintion or they wouldn t be things however stepping the observer up a notch sets in motion cancer to grow from the singular notion that we ourselves separate on a cost of lightening our load. I am partly responsible for this mess we have made. Pulling my hair out in thin strands so as to not make a difference. Some people just don't understand what it means to be so far gone yet in a place of enchantment that lets us know we're not alone as Michael Jackson plays on the ham radio and Wikipedia says the song was written by r kelly. I'm a solitary young man, joined at the seams complacency and red-ridden vanishing points to a line of sight I'd rather not identify with if I had a choice. I'm seriously considering becoming rich and famous despite others already forcing me to. I guess eventually my spirit will give in as my soul looks from a distance and says what a fool I am then goes about his day. You can't be like the rest of them no matter how hard you try. Thinking on the sensualities you avoided after this rap shit led you no where. The palace at the height of creation where Jesus stopped and stared to collect his thoughts before he kept going when his alarm rang as his slave bending consistency tracked the new melinnia into a moldy piece of sandstone cheese the better of which tasted nutty with fruity notes and 80% abv shards of liquid glass on the throat thatd make even an immortal weep a shy tear or two. The pigs down in Mississippi feel things we can't understand in their slaughterhouse decrepit and forwarned in a musk ridden air flow that's non existent to hypocritical angels who were supposed to stop atrocity but opted to sit on their ads and play virtua tennis all day. Oink says the pig. Hee haw says the donkey. Give me life says the God and there on the 30th night fags came to tell the story on their faces. The bag lady told them to shut up and stop whining but they wouldn't listen though they lost their ability to speak. Goodness gracious me oh my great balls of fire. Great balls of ball you are the Lord of my lonely century in this dimension I took awareness to when I allowed you into my heart space.And then I left asking my self: Who is this I?

755559888a

Let’s stand for a while and think about the dastardly ways we have gone under the waters and flew away from temptation. Have us saying isnt it so pretty to be in something and have that to fall back on due to the struggles of forgetting the place we come from which didnt always have it out for us this bad in refusing us of inconjunctions we can at least point to and blame our problems on saying “See! There, I told you so. That’s why we cant find our beginning!” And we’ll keep toilling the fields as halflings saving up for a chance to leave the very universe we serve. “So thats more like it. Finally something I can get my flows on to” Shelly the alien said. “The Stars dont have to like you just because you see them. They have their place and so do we” Gerald said. “Oh but they do.” “How do you know?” “Well for one they always shine bright at the most oppurtune times, like when I’m feeling down about the part of myself that conveinently seems to escape me just when I need it most. If that be so then put me on to something else and that’ll do just fine.” “Perhaps you're not as big as you thought ” Gerald held up his hand to salvage what was left of the dissolving psychic barrier between them. An invisible giant with an ocd issue. For now he could only listen. “No im not here to choose and thats exactly why Im not afraid to go where you can’t. Having the courage to admit your wrongs requires as much energy as universal rotation itself - a force which exists beyond our pleaidien awareness. ” “ But Shel- Okay whatever” Gerald paused and rolled the horizon through his scaly fingertips. “Keep calling on the unknown and you might get lost because it’s been there forever and sometimes Look, Shelly, no offense, you know I love you, but your awareness has no filter on what representation it can cling onto like danger isnt a reality to you. Me and Dazel always had to look out for you and thats just in this world what makes you think you can take on things you cant even see? “But do you believe in me? Anyone can say they love me. I’ve been hearing that my whole life. So much that it holds the same meaning as “um” does in conversation. Is that really the final conclusion we have at the end of the day? That you love me? Besides, I dont think you really meant that.”

“Here goes Miss Type-1 personality again. Always needing to label circles into squares, stars into gods, this as that, out of an inability to cope with insecurity. Leaving the rest of us as unwilling participants.”

“HOW DO YOU KNOW WHAT’S WRONG IN NATURE?” Shelly bawled.

The beach of Temofose was out of walking distance from the orange cottage they grew up in with there Mom. When they were young it was somewhere theyd go when they had nothing else to do. Euweu Sister Beach was the brighter of the two, but now too populated for their liking. Temofose is less frequented by other families and polluted by cargo ships and a lack of open views but as they stood there a semblence of twilight through the holographic cages offered closure to the purpose of them arguing in the elements about a timeline Shelly was going to step into And no matter what argument he could put forth, Gerald thought of it fruitless unless he spoke from his heart, a heart of which Shelly was currently taking the place of, so that he could not use it against her. “Shelly, I just hope you can understand how I dont want to let you go.” “I’m sorry you feel that way. But it’s my choice. Have a good njght Gerald. I love you” She said as she went into darkness.

Summer Break 2018

As a street light exploring strip malls, I am a linoleum tile on top of a trapezoid emitting frames of rave scenes. Heres where I find myself walking through last nights dream of the gang member selling duck pussy then getting assaulted by a pizza guy and a cop. Alone after those nights. Seems love was never meant to be expressed but felt. I look inside to see if I’m about to die, seeing diamonds mixed with sky. Materializing in the backdrop of my memories. Now I know why.

Now I know.

Then a wren on the fence manifests when it needs to. The perspective pyramid is that I pleaded for a higher calling. There’s nobody bohemian as me. One day I’ll take this civic off the road and escape into my sacred grove. If only I wasnt such a bitch.

I carry my single briefcase through the airport parking lot. I’m hot and out of breath. Everyone watching me. I can read their thoughts but not my own. They say look at the guy who isnt me but is still conscious enough to move his vessel.

The a/c runs down to the end of the terminal, but my spirit is squared by the stores selling vain material. The pyramid of perspective is an accordian overlayed on my mind’s eye televises scenes too chaotic to put into words. Walking through customs is an event to be remembered, I tell myself. Anyone who catches my glimpse pauses for a split second, calibrating my own opinion of the why in life. A definition of nuance that was never meant to be expressed but felt. To sense what I’ve been wanting, free and alone, after all those wasted days. I board the flight to say finally I am my own religion. If I was flying over africa I’d see bon fires, but over Georgia I only see street lights. Thinking how absurd that they will speak of me as crazy. Others will listen. A vibration through these amber aisles to look no further than my destiny. Because everyone has their destination is the way it goes. I refuse. I’m tired of being a number. Atlanta had its place. Now I’m homeless in Tokyo. This is the not-so perfect end to the chapter planned out for me by the higher power. Not-so bad neither.

Save me. I’m on the other side now.

#chapter 1 #short-story #novella #atl streetz #cancer moon #tryna

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buckyskorpion · 5 years ago

Text

11 hours - part seven

Pairing: Biker!Bucky x Reader

Summary: bucky is the mystery you can’t wait to solve. if you can get out of his bed long enough, that is. a biker au.

Warnings: gang-typical violence, sex scenes, alcohol mentions, probably more to come so stay tuned

A/N: hello i apologise in advance. pls dont hurt me!!! i would appreciate your feedback and your theories about where this fic is going! i hope this part isn’t too..... upsetting lmao. i wont be taking tags for this so please dont ask.

title taken from 11 hours by wet | playlist | please donate to my ko-fi!

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You believed, until now, that you walked the world seeking out dark corners and underbellies other people didn’t want to touch. That’s your job. The current case you're supposed to be working on involves a man suspected of drugging his girlfriend to take nonconsensual nudes of her and sell them to his friends while she slept. You’re well aware the world is a dangerous place.

But things look different now, in a way you never could have imagined before the Lerna. Those men were dead before you could blink, and you know life is expendable and fragile and so easy to take but it’s another thing to see it taken before your eyes. It’s another thing to take it yourself. And you know, now, why Bucky would only show you parts of his life and himself because this whole truth feels like staring directly into the sun - painfully bright, to the point where it’s all you can see and all the good things are reduced to a spotty, hazy blur.

You’re sitting in your office, at your desk where you’re trying to work but you can’t get the sound of bullet casings hitting the floor and the thunk of a knife in skin out of your head. There, in the centre of your tiny office, was where you sat on Bucky’s lap and kissed him and demanded ‘no secrets.’ Too stubborn to know he was keeping them for a reason, that maybe there are things you don't want to know after all. But you can feel his skin under your fingertips and the brush of his stubble as he kissed you, a memory you can touch, and you can’t help but think it still feels worth it. At the end of it all, if it was a choice of the Lerna happening or never having Bucky at all, you know what you’d chose.

As if he can hear you, your phone buzzes with a text from him. Joey’s at 7?

It’s already 6:30. You’re grabbing your keys and leaving the fear on your desk chair as you text him back. Sounds perfect.

It really is. Joey’s is your favourite bar, and just seeing the grimy neon sign outside makes your heart feel less heavy. This, after everything, remains the same. You still feel giddy jogging down the stairs, ready for the heady bass music to push through your chest and a whiskey apple to numb the wounds. It feels like the beginning, half-nervous half-excited to go find Bucky tucked in a booth at the back, dim purple light chiseling out his cheekbones and catching bright on his sharp smile. Back then it was innocent, if a fuck buddy hook-up could be. Now that you know you would do things for Bucky you’d never do for anyone else, that you don’t think you’ll ever be able to remove his brand from your heart- well. You skip a couple more steps as you head down into Joey’s, only a few minutes late.

You don’t slow down as you enter the bar, weaving through patrons searching for a familiar face. Now that you’re here to the urge to see him, to have him in your arms, is almost unbearable. When you do find Bucky, spinning a glass between his fingers in a nervous habit you’ve noticed he has, he feels your eyes on him immediately. He stands and you crash into him, burying your hands under his leather jacket to feel the warmth of his body against your palms. Bucky hugs you back just as harshly, the force of his embrace lifting your toes off the ground. When he pulls away his runs a hand over your head, down your hair, coming to rest by the side of your neck as if to check your pulse and make sure you’re really there.

“You ok?” he asks, bright blue eyes now dark and hooded as he stares down at you.

You nod, unwilling to let go of your grip on the back of his t-shirt even as he pulls away, and say, “Am now.”

“Need to talk to you, it’s important,” Bucky says. He escapes your grip with ease, because he’s huge and strong and it’s easy to forget that when he softens for you. He sits at the booth and you slide in across him, watching as he downs the rest of the straight whiskey in his glass like its water. That bad feeling is back, like back at Steve’s tattoo shop, but you don’t want it here. You fumble for Bucky’s hand across the table, and he lets you hold it but it doesn’t stop the dread settling heavy in your gut. You squeeze his fingers tighter, just in case.

“Is everything alright?” you ask. “Are we- did the cops find out-“

“No, no,” Bucky says, shaking his head down at the table. His gaze catches on your intwined fingers, the glint of his signet rings in the dim bar light, and says, “The cops aren’t the problem.”

“But there is a problem,” you say, and now Bucky raises his eyes to look at you.

“I need to tell you something, it’s important” Bucky says, again, and the dread rises from your stomach like bile to your throat. “You have to understand this, so you can see that I’m not- that this isn’t just-“

“Bucky.” He lets out a ragged breath as you cut him off mid ramble, scrubs a hand through his hair. You hate the way your voice wobbles when you say, “You’re scaring me.”

You almost make yourself laugh as those words leave your mouth. This scares you? Bucky, frustrated and nervous and clinging to your hand like a lifeline, but when he walked over lifeless bodies he sunk bullets into with a giant rifle on his back - that was just fine.

“You know when we were at Steve’s, and we were talking about Hydra? About Rumlow? Do you remember that?” Bucky asks. He stares at you like he’s imploring you to say it for him, whatever it is he’s struggling to say, but you don’t understand.

You nod slowly and say, “Natasha said Rumlow had it out for you. You said Hydra is your biggest rival.”

“Yes, right,” Bucky says, nodding a bit manically. He’s still gripping your hand tight. “Rumlow hated me, and as far as we can tell - or Nat, I guess, she’s been looking into it - he was acting on his own, to get to me.”

“That’s good, right?” You don’t feel sure, with the way Bucky is acting and looking at you all glassy-eyed. “No big gang war, or whatever.”

“I need you to understand why Rumlow hated me, because it’s not just- it wasn’t just about him, ok?” Bucky says, and now he’s looking around the room like that night in your office. Casing the bar, looking for exits. “He’s dead, but none of this died with him.”

“What is ‘this’?” you ask, and wonder for the first time, do I want to find out?

“The first time I met Rumlow was in the hospital, a couple of days after I got back from Afghanistan,” Bucky says. “I’d been honourably discharged, my arm was all fucked up and fried from a chem bomb and I lost all sensation in it so they sent me home. I remember I was lying in the bed looking out the window, and it was snowing. I hadn’t been anywhere but a desert in so long and I was like, what do I do know? I don’t own a coat anymore. I’m a black ops sniper, that’s not exactly a transferrable skill - can’t even put it on a resume because it’s classified. My arm’s fried and ugly lookin’. I’m fucked.”

“You must’ve been so scared,” you say. Bucky meets your eyes, and you can see it haunting him in the back of them - so much heat and fire and pain left behind, so much cold and unknown and pain lying in front. Your dad has told you a similar story, when he came back from Iraq, and he had the same look in his eyes Bucky does right now.

“I was,” he says, and you squeeze his fingers. He looks towards your hands again and says, “I was, and they knew it.”

“Hydra,” you say, and you know you’re right. Bucky nods anyway.

“Rumlow came into my hospital room and told me, Hydra helps guys like me. They helped him and look - he’s got a job and money and friends and a team again. A purpose. But I said no. I’m black ops, I know shady guys when I seem ‘em and Rumlow reeked of it. Just, Hydra doesn’t like being told no.”

“They target vulnerable, traumatised vets in hospitals?” you ask, disgusted. You can taste the hate that boils up, and that ugly, angry part picturing Bucky lying in a bed so alone and afraid and imagining someone like Rumlow trying to take advantage of him like that - that ugly part says I’m glad he’s dead.

“They’re highly trained and easily moulded,” Bucky says in way of answer, and you shudder at the thought. “But seem Rumlow failed and it was my fault. He failed over and over again every time they sent him to recruit me. So he hated me, and then I started the Commandos with Steve and Sam and Nat to target them. The only way to save the next poor bastard like me from ending up with Hydra is to end them, except there ain't a cop in the city who can touch them.”

“But you can,” you say, and you know it’s stupid but your heart has never been known as terribly smart, so you add, “Bucky, that’s dangerous.”

He smiles, small but it’s there, and he rubs his thumb over your knuckles as he says, “I know, doll. I don’t know if you know this about me, but stupid’s kinda my thing.”

“Very funny,” you say, rolling your eyes at Bucky’s cheeky grin now splitting his face. As quick as it came, though, his smile dies and so does the small spark of hope that maybe this story has a happy ending.

“I’ve made Hydra my enemy and I can’t change that. I don’t want to,” Bucky says, nodding solemnly at his own words and you watch him physically turn cold, stony and distant in the space of a second. “But that means that as long as Hydra is around, they’re going to be coming after me. First Rumlow, but it won’t stop there. They’ll come and keep coming and what if, one time, I don’t get there in time? Or you don’t get to leave your phone on, or even make it to a location before they shoot you in the back of the car?”

“No,” you say. You’re not stupid, you know where this is going and just- no. Bucky is being deliberately harsh, speaking loud and unfiltered to try and make it easier to do what he’s about to do but you won’t let him. That dread turned bile has now turned into straight, acidic fire pumping through veins and it hurts.

Bucky smiles faint and sad, says, “You said it yourself - it’s dangerous no matter what.”

“That's not what I meant,” you say, shaking your head vehemently, wildly, as if you can physically shake Bucky of this stupid idea and the actual pain you’re in just entertaining this conversation. “You know that’s not what I meant, what are- you asked me to stay, Bucky. You asked me, and now you want-“

“I know, I know,” Bucky says, tugging your hand close to him now but it’s your turn to try and pull away, albeit unsuccessfully. “I know and I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, but you almost died. Do you understand that? They would have killed you, and the only reason is me.”

“That’s such bullshit,” you say, trying and failing to pull your hand free of his grip but he isn’t letting go now and the death-grip he has on you, tethering you to him even as he pushes you away, makes your eyes sting with ugly tears.

“It’s not,” Bucky says, so sad, and you just want to kiss that guilt away for him even still, even as your heart is breaking under his fist. “You will always be in danger until the day comes where I can’t protect you, and I won’t do that to you. I can’t, I can’t be the reason you get hurt.”

“You can’t protect me if you’re not around,” you say, so soft you can barely be heard over Joey’s house music but honestly, you might as well be completely alone for how little you care about the bar around you.

“The safest place for you is away from me,” Bucky says, and that makes you laugh. Humourless, fucking painfully, but you laugh and Bucky glares so dark you’re reminded of the look in his eyes when he stared down at Rumlow’s body bleeding out on the ground. Through gritted teeth he says, “You think I would do this if there was any other way?”

“There is another way,” you say, glaring right back. “There’s not being a coward about it, Bucky. You lead a dangerous life, I get it. Believe me, I fucking get it, and I chose to stay. Ok? I wanna be here anyway, so why does my choice not matter to you? Is this some stupid excuse to get rid of me?”

“Don’t say that,” Bucky all but growls, and you should be scared. He’s scary, Bucky is dangerous by his own admission but you refuse to be afraid of him. Even when he’s trying to force you to be, holding your hand too tight and dragging you around the booth so he can pin you to the seat and you both know the only way you can move is if he lets you. As if he thinks he can scare you away from him, if he can’t reason you to go.

“I don’t care how dangerous it is,” you say into his seething face, inches from yours, teeth bared in a truly terrifying snarl as he pins you to the leather in a show of strength that will leave bruises tomorrow. “I don’t wanna be away from you.”

For half a moment, you really think Bucky is going to hit you. He moves so fast, and you’ve never seen his face look like that - hurt and angry and upset and half-insane all at once. But he just presses his forehead to yours, closes his eyes and breathes you in, and for another half a moment you get to think, maybe he’ll change his mind.

“You’re all I want,” Bucky breathes, so soft and quiet you almost don’t hear him if it wasn’t said almost directly into your skin. “But that’s selfish.”

“I don’t care,” you say, like a mantra now, or a prayer. Just hoping he’ll hear you, “I don’t care, I don’t care, I don’t care.”

“You should,” Bucky says, and pulls away from you just as fast as he came in. “I won’t be the reason you end up dead.”

Bucky sits before you like a solid brick wall - unbreakable, immovable, cold and blank. His eyes are shuttered from you and you know there’s no way to get to him now. There’s nothing else you can say. If you aren’t enough for him to push past his fear and love you anyway, nothing you say is going to change his mind. Just because you know it’s true doesn’t mean it hurts any less, though, as you sit there boxed in by this menacing stranger looking at you in a way you never want to be looked at again. Like he already doesn’t know you. Like you’ve already been forgotten.

“This was always gonna happen, wasn’t it?” you ask, more to yourself than to Bucky. You laugh at his silence, the flat set of his mouth and clenched fists on his thighs. Maybe if you never went to that first party at Natasha’s house and remained at arms length, sneaking out his window and never staying the night, then maybe you could’ve had him just a little bit longer. But you didn’t, and now you’re hurt in a way you’ve never been before. Your dad never prepared you to survive a pain like this.

You slide out the other side of the booth, tripping slightly as you climb to unsteady feet. It’s hard to see through unshed tears but you don’t bother looking back at Bucky still sat in the booth. You weave through people just as fast as when you came in, but for the opposite reason now - you can’t leave behind this dim-lit bar painted with the gorey tatters of your heart fast enough.

When you emerge onto the street you know Bucky has followed you, his hulking presence palpable behind you as you stand on the sidewalk and try and calm your rapid heartbeat. You’re surprised its still beating with how much it hurts, especially when Bucky places a hand on your shoulder and cracks your heart neatly in two. He says, softly under New York traffic, “Let me drive you home. Please.”

Instead of asking why, why does he care, why does he want to, if the safest place is away from you then leave me alone, what you say is a mildly whiny, “You don’t know where I live.”

“I’ll put the address in my phone,” Bucky says, calm and low as if to placate you but you’re well past that point now. You’re crying openly on the street like a lunatic as Bucky gently takes your hand and leads you towards his bike, manhandles you onto it, clicks a helmet on over your head. It feels cruel for him to be this soft after so ruthlessly tearing you apart, but you suppose it’s better than being left alone in the street like he never cared at all.

When you pull up to your apartment building Bucky kills the engine and leans in close to you before you have a chance to jump off and run away. You think, surely he’s not about to kiss me right now and you really hate the part of you that hopes he does, but he doesn’t. He just leans in close and whispers into your helmet, “They could be watching your place, after what happened. I’m so sorry.”

You close your eyes. Bucky’s right, this will never stop, but that doesn’t mean you want to face it alone. Your whole life has been carved out for you only, but just once you thought maybe you could live it with someone else. That’s not a life for you to have, it seems, so you take a deep breath through snotty tears and nod, say, “I can handle it,” because you know you can. You’ll have to.

“I think-“ Bucky starts but falters, bites his lip blanched white before continuing, “They might leave you alone if you make it clear I’m not in your life anymore.”

“You can’t ask me to do that,” you say, and all the resolve you just gathered is shattered as instantly as you found it. You’re crying again because fuck, nothing has ever hurt like this has, from the inside where you can’t find it or heal it or stop it so it just sucks the life out of you one painful second at a time.

“You have to, honey,” Bucky says, and you want to punch him for it. The way he talks to you like he loves you, like he cares, but he can’t if he’s making you do this. Break your own heart to save his. “Scream at me, send me away. They won’t need to target you then.”

“You’re cruel,” you say, pulling away from him. You don’t want to touch him anymore, can’t stand to be this close so you trip off the bike and stumble down the street. Bucky stares after you, his own eyes teary and face screwed up in genuine pain. It could never compare to the sick feelings in your stomach as you take a deep breath and scream, “Go away, Bucky. Fucking leave me alone and never come back or I’ll fucking kill you, you hear me? Fuck off, and don’t come back.”

You can’t help the sob that rips from you, threatening to buckle your knees and break you right on the sidewalk. Bucky is looking at you like you’ve just stuck a knife in his chest but he asked you to, he keeps asking and taking and it’s always you that ends up hurt. You leave him on the street, stumble up the stairs to your apartment and sink to the floor as soon as the door clicks shut behind you. It’s dark in your apartment, nothing but streetlights outside casting shadows on furniture he never touched, but it still feels like he’s haunting you just the same.

Bucky’s bike revs to life and he tears away, the sound ripping straight through and down the street. It leaves you hollowed out, a burnt-through husk curled up on your hardwood floor. You know you’ll never hear that sound again.

****

For your entire life it’s always been you against the world. The only person you could ever trust is yourself, the only one who’s going to look out for you is you and you can’t remember a time where you didn’t think this way. Maybe it’s nature, maybe it’s nurture, but it’s how you’ve always seen the world.

However, you’re only now starting to feel what being truly alone is actually like.

Bucky’s contact lies open on your phone, but you don’t press call. You won’t. He pushed you away for your own ‘safety,’ for his own fear, and you’ll have to learn to live with his choice. Even though you still love him and always will, you can’t have him and you’ll just have to be ok with that. So you leave this contact photo up on your phone, resting on your coffee table beside your open laptop. You’ve got the input feed of the bug you planted in your dad’s kitchen open, chunky headphones on, scrolling through the audio from the past few days since you’d last seen him.

Your heart is broken by the first man you’ve ever let into your life and the only other person who knows you and who you trust, you’re currently spying on. Now, for the first time, you truly have no one left.

Focusing on work has always been an escape for you, and even when your life is in pieces around you and your heart looks no different, work still pulls through. Even if that work is your own father and the inane conversations he has with himself about the baseball teams on TV, or the calls he makes to his vet friends, or the late-night renditions of ABBA songs you remember well from your childhood. A file lies open on your coffee table with your father’s name on it and pages of notes you’ve made from nearly one hundred hours of audio recordings. You hope beyond hope that you’re just paranoid, and that this time when you go digging you don’t find anything at all.

The only thing you’ve noticed so far is your dad makes a lot of phone calls. They’re long, with a lot of names thrown around you don’t recognise as being his friends or anyone from work he’s mentioned to you before. You write them all down to look up later, but you’ve got to go meet a client so you shut everything down and collect your notes in the file. You hide them, just in case, and grab your leather jacket before you leave. You still have rent to pay. The world goes on around you despite everything being turned upside down, almost as if Bucky never happened at all.

You leave via the back of the building, to come out onto the street closest to the subway station. Usually smokers hang out around there so you aren’t surprised to see two men leaning against the wall, but you are surprised when they star following you down the alley. At this point you’re an old hand at being followed, and the petty part of you brain thinks in Bucky’s direction, see? Doesn’t matter if you’re here or not, dumbass. You sigh to yourself and plan to give them the run around once you clear the alley, but you don’t get a chance to.

From behind you hear a couple of solid thunks, a groan, a muttered curse from one of the men and then one final thunk before silence. You turn around, half afraid of who you’re going to meet once you do and half annoyed because you think you might know who it is. Sure enough, standing there in her leather jacket and a rusted metal pipe from the dumpster in her grip, is Natasha.

She blows a stray strand of hair out of her face and says, “Fancy seeing you here.”

“So he’ll break up with me but will still have me followed,” you say, folding your arms over your chest. Natasha shrugs and you mutter, “Figures.”

“I am always the first to say James is an idiot,” Natasha says, twirling the pipe like a baton in her delicate hands. She grins at you and says, “James is an idiot.”

“I’m aware,” you grit out, glaring at the red-head. “What are you doing here?”

“Making sure you don’t end up as Hydra mince-meat,” Natasha says, “What does it look like?”

“Doing whatever Bucky says even when it’s stupid,” you say. Natasha doesn’t like that, her bright grin dropping into a scowl as she steps up to you. Small, but with a clearly lethal weapon in her hands if the unconscious bodies behind her are anything to go by, she jabs the tip of the pipe into your chest and forces you a step backwards.

“James always has good intentions, even if his logic is sometimes flawed.” She drops the pipe, letting it clang to the floor between you as if to punctuate her saying, “Besides, James didn't tell me to do anything. I volunteered.”

“Why?” you ask, sneering slightly. “I think we both know you don’t trust me, or like me, and you make it very hard to like you.”

Natasha smiles at that, and you hate the face she makes every time you say something she ‘approves’ of - condescending, like she doesn’t expect you to have brain cells and is surprised every time you do. She says, very solemn despite the smile in her eyes, “I owe you.”

That makes you pause. Instantly, like you’re right back in that bar. You can see her groaning body struggling to stand after being thrown into a wall. Rumlow pointing a gun at her back, the blood-thirst emanating off him in waves. Your own hand, as if detached from your body, flinging the knife across the room into his neck before he can put a bullet in Natasha’s.

You swallow thickly, shake your head and say, “No you don’t.”

“I do,” she insists. She steps forward with her hand out, beckoning her fingers like she wants you to hand her something. You just stare at her empty palm for a few seconds before she clicks her tongue and says, “Phone.”

You hand it over without thinking, which was definitely stupid. But Natasha just types away quickly before giving it back and you see you have a new contact with her name attached entered into your phone.

“If you ever need anything,” she says, and taps your phone screen with her nail, “call me.”

It was only minutes ago you were sitting on your couch scrolling through audio from your tapped father’s kitchen thinking you’ve never been more alone in your life. Yet here you are, looking at a helping hand outstretched from the last person you expected it to come from. Your fingers shake slightly as you tuck your phone into your back pocket, and Natasha smiles at you like she understands.

“Thank you,” you say, and you hope she knows you genuinely do mean it.

Natasha nods, then says, “Get out of here, alright? I have to clean this up.”

You suppose that’s Natasha speak for ‘your welcome,’ so you leave her to it. The whole client meeting you can’t focus properly, too busy trying to decide if you feel safer or more afraid at having one of the scariest women you know watching your apartment. By the end of the day, your conclusion is that if Natasha is going to be in your life, its probably best she’s on your side rather than against it.

When you get home that afternoon there is no sign of the two guys Natasha knocked out, nor is she anywhere to be seen. You can’t help but feel watched, though, as you enter your building and climb the stairs. She’s a busy woman and you know she can’t be watching you all the time but you still feel her green eyes on the back of your neck - its not an altogether uncomfortable sensation. That’s something to unpack later, you think, as you collapse on the couch.

You try to resist, but as soon as you sit down and close your eyes the urge to forget about the case you’ve just taken on and look into your own hunches grows too strong. You get up again and fish out your dad’s file again from your hiding place, bringing it back to the couch to flip open. The list of names you’ve been compiling is at the top, scribbled in messy handwriting as you listened to your dad’s one-sided conversations. You tallied up how many times the same name had been mentioned and in what context, however it had been hard to decipher what your dad was talking about with only half the story.

You decide to go looking into the most mentioned name - more of a title, really. Somebody your dad calls Chief shows up in almost every single conversation he has over the phone, and when you were going through the audio it dredged up some strange, suppressed childhood memory. You used to hear him talking to guys downstairs when you were doing your homework, and you always thought he called them ‘chief’ as a nickname or weird, macho term of endearment like how kids in your class would call each other ‘bro’.

Maybe, he was only talking to one guy. You were going to find out.

Starting at your dad’s job, you scroll through their website and LinkedIn profiles to find any link to the name ‘Chief.’ He works as a security guard for a chain of clubs in the city so you are doubtful, and sure enough nothing really comes up to peak your interest. Your dad really only has one other major outlet to look into and that’s the VA, so you have to swallow past the dirty feeling of investigating suffering vets and start scrolling through the website for the Brooklyn VA group attached to the medical centre.

It’s all wholesome stuff and nothing of interest to your snooping at all until you get to a photo gallery from four years ago. It’s dedicated to commemorating the Brooklyn VA and New York Police Department workshop day promoting mental health for vets and servicemen. There are a bunch of photos of group activities and the lunch put on by the VA, and you spot your dad in a couple of them. You’re about to click off when you find one where your dad is posed with another vet and a very official, very dressed up cop. Nothing you haven’t seen at least forty of before in this gallery, but it’s the caption which makes you pause.

It reads, Some of the Brooklyn VA’s finest with NY Chief of Police. It has to be a coincidence, the man’s job title and nothing more. He’s tall, broad, with sandy blonde hair turning grey under his police hat. There are more medals than you can count pinned to his uniform and even in this grainy photo you can tell he would squash your dad like an ant if he gave the Chief of Police a reason to. You’ve never paid attention to this before, steering clear of cops whenever you can, but you find yourself googling him as soon as you can pull yourself away from his mile-long stare.

As soon as the NYPD profile on the Chief of Police loads, your blood turns to ice. You want to say you’re crazy, you’re crazy, you’re paranoid, but name one time your paranoia had led you wrong? Two strange coincidences don’t happen back to back, no matter how disconnected they may appear. Two worlds you never thought you would know, let alone be watching them collide, stare up at you from your computer screen. You can hear Steve’s voice like he’s sitting right next to you, saying “It is strange we haven’t heard anything from Pierce,” and right under a professional portrait of the Chief of Police is his name burning into the back of your eyelids - Alexander Pierce.

You shove your laptop onto the coffee table and stand, pacing back and forth in front of your couch. Scraping a hand through your hair and pulling half of it out of your head in the process, you try to reason your way out of connecting these dots. They’re barely dots, their echoes of dots - so your dad took a photo with the Chief of Police four years ago and he refers to someone he knows as ‘Chief’ as a nickname and Steve mentioned Pierce was someone in Hydra and the Chief of Police happened to be named Alexander Pierce. So what, right?

“Ok, ok, ok, ok,” you say to yourself, rushed and manic. You’ll just ask your dad. He’s your dad, he was never supposed to hide anything from you so why would he start now? If you just ask he might-

You don’t get to finish your thought. Three loud knocks ring through your empty apartment, your doorbell chiming impatiently straight afterwards. You stare at the door with your heart in your throat, long enough for them to ring the doorbell again and a loud, male voice to call out your full name. Someone you don’t recognise, yet they know where you live. You approach the door on silent feet and look through the peephole, reaching for the baseball bat you keep behind a pot plant as you do.

Standing outside are two men in suits, one of whom is looming at the peephole and making stupid faces while his college rolls his eyes and attempts to hold him back. Through the door, you ask, “Who is it? What department are you with?”

“I’m Special Detective James Rhodes and this is my partner, Special Detective Tony Stark,” the unimpressed cop says, elbowing his colleague out of the way who is still trying to look through the wrong side of the peephole. Holding up a badge and gesturing for his partner to do the same, Detective Rhodes says, “We’re with the FBI, ma’am.”

“Shit,” you say, before realising you said that out loud. Your hand feels numb where you grip your baseball bat tightly, and you decide in that moment you have to be dreaming. No way has the events of the past fifteen minutes taken place.

The guy who must be Detective Stark laughs and says, “Shit is right. Let us in, ma’am, we need to ask you some questions.”

You look back at the coffee table laden with copious notes on your father and your open laptop, Chief of Police Alexander Pierce’s face staring back at you. An omen, you think, but it would be even more suspicious if you asked them to wait to clean everything up. Your heart-stopping, life-changing, maybe-discovery will have to wait.

You slide off the chain and unlock your deadbolt, opening the door for the two FBI agents. They walk in without another word, and it really hits you then. It doesn’t matter what Bucky does now, if he leaves you and never comes back or if he never left at all - you’re in this, now. And now you’ll pay the price.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader fic #bucky x reader fic #bucky barnes fic #bucky fic #reader insert fic #pov fic #biker!bucky #biker!bucky au #biker au #avengers fic #marvel fic #bucky barnes #natasha romanoff #11 hours #heheheheeeee

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maribelsawyer · 6 years ago

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- ̗̀ * ( ella purnell + cisfemale + she/her ) have you seen ( maribel sawyer ) walking around campus ? they are a ( nineteen ) year old, studying ( journalism ). we hear they are in ( delta gamma chi ), and can be ( benevolent & impressionable ), maybe it’s because they are a ( gemini ). they sort of remind us of ( scraped knees , magnifying glasses , vintage oxfords ), maybe we can find out more ! * ̖́- + newspaper writer

god okay looks like i’ve fallen in love w ella purnell and i want to b her. anyways maribel is my newest baby n im sorta making her up as i go so pls bare w me lmao

TW: eating disorder mentions, subtle abuse?

{she is not currently in that mindset ^}

gen. info

full name: maribel ottoline sawyer

nickname(s): mari, bell, lottie b/c middle name, etc. etc. just sawyer sometimes idk

b.o.d. - june 1st, 19 yrs old

label(s): the marionette, the demure, the prevaricator, etc. etc.

height: like 5′3″ prolly tbh

hometown: duluth, minnesota

sexuality: shit she don’t know

bio. info

her dad’s in the air force, her mom’s published three diet cookbooks and two different DVDs--maribel is the only middle child

one of those conservative, all american families, they were strict and definitely made it known that they were parents and not friends by any means

9pm curfew, not leaving the dining room until all ur food is gone, grounded if ur grades were below their expectations, etc. etc.

her older sister can evoke emotions in others thru her acting like no other. has taken the hearts (and leads) of all her acting directors since childhood. her voice is broadway material.

and her older brother? has been the best linebacker on any high school team he’s joined; hopes to make it to the big leagues. but if he doesn’t? he’s been taking college-level classes since he was a sophomore.

and...maribel?

maribel is...just, maribel.

for the longest time, there was nothing special about maribel

she couldn’t sing, or dance, or compose words in pretty prose

her grades were only satisfactory after hrs n hrs of studying everyday

homegirl can’t even cook w/o smth exploding

in short, maribel has never been good at anything. can’t draw within the lines, can’t follow the line, opens her mouth at the wrong time. etc. etc. shit? rough.

ANYWAYS

her family moves around a lot b/c of her dad, so she’s never really been in one place long enough to really prove herself? always been the quiet girl in class while her siblings brought home gold stars everyday

the kinda girl others would sorta push around n bully a lil bit bc she would never know what to say; prolly just cried a lot tbh

grew up w a lot of insecurities b/c of this

definitely doesnt help that her mother is obsessed w beauty n fitness n like

their mother p much forced her lifestyle onto her children, mari has a rough relationship w food b/c of it

ANYWAYS part 2

grew up always in the shadows of her siblings and their accomplishments, and spent a lot of her time tryn find something to be good at just so somebody could give her a stamp of approval

was always the ~wannabe~, the girl who would just endlessly suck up to the most popular girl she could find and try to mimic her to the best of mari’s abilities, just so she could survive her school experience

by the time mari was a freshmen in high school, her parents had divorced and she finally thought she could have a normal school experience and make something for herself

obv not. her mother shipped her off to a boarding school in nevada and that was it; her sister had already graduated and her brother was still in middle school.

it was finally just mari.

of course like she tried to suck up to others but it wasn’t really helpful, everybody was a lil too boujie for her and she always froze up when she tried to speak to the ~popular kids~

they only rly spoke to her b/c she’s got this knack for forging shit, like i dont think she even has her own handwriting; she always copies other people’S b/c she’s just. so used to tryn to mimic others n be them as much as possible

around this time she found herself fucking around in her computer class more often than not; it’d been the only elective left b/c she arrived in the middle of the year

but she surprisingly enjoyed it, like, a lot

her parents never really allowed much computer use b/c like. rots ur brain or whatever.

got into programming, but when she found out that u could ? hack shit ? kinda peaked her interest.

her shift into programming to hacking was subtle but before she knew it, she was fucking around on websites for the fun of it. never anything severe

computers became her friends, y’know

that was until her sophomore year and there was another loser fucking around on the computers during lunchtime

and like...they just started kinda talking, y’know? became friends, prolly mari’s first legitimate friend in...forever, really

the kid was kinda weird but she didn’t mind b/c fuck, mari couldn’t be picky n she didn’t mind weird

like...they were obsessed w conspiracies n mysteries n shit

it started to rub off on mari too, b/c homegirl is an idiot but. an observant idiot.

so she started getting reeeally into mysteries and shit. started acting like a mini investigator w/ her pal; solving stupid things like ‘who wrote ‘mindy is a whore’ in the bathroom stall’ and ‘does mr. roberts have a secret obsession w kpop’

no mindy is not a whore it was slander

yes mr. roberts is into kpop

ANYWAYS part 3

so they were these nancy drew, scooby doo, veronica mars knock off duo

by junior yr her partner started getting into like. drinking and minor drugs and other things that the other boarding school kids were smuggling in, y’know.

this meant that mari was getting into that shit too, y’know. cant stay innocent forever.

became a lil bit of a pothead lmao

so like now theyre just stoners who go around solving shit and prolly also stirring shit up for the hell of it

so like . . . . . one night they were doin’ their thing, right? and her partner brings up this...completely wild idea

they live in nevada. y’kno what else is in nevada?

area 51

these fucking idiots want to go break into this fucking. air force base. to find area 51.

guess what they did?

they attempted to break into the air force base. like. of course they tried.

they failed like, super miserably, got arrested for trespassing and had to be bailed out of the county jail by their parents

her dad almost lost his job so he was mcfuckin PISSED esp once they figured out she was high as shit

her partner? disappeared. nobody knows where they went.

mari was moved from the boarding school to a public school closer to where her mother could, begrudgingly, keep an eye on her

kinda spent the rest of her high school career p miserable, she gave up on her whole ~detective~ thing and resorted to making fake IDs for her fellow high schoolers

was drug-tested like every week or so, too

around this time her mental health and relationship w food got worse, she barely made it to graduation. took a gap year to recover, worked a buncha jobs but usually gets fired from them b/c she’s really fucking bad like most things besides her two (2) unconventional talents that are decidedly useless

came to ucla b/c her mother p much made her, her mother’s a legacy and that’s about the only reason why she got into delta gamma chi

doesn’t want ppl to know she was a loser and also like . fucked up her dad’s life a lil, b/c it was def a thing that made the news and the only reason why her name wasn’t in the articles was b/c she was a minor at the time

so she like...lies abt her childhood a lot

tells a lotta lil white lies b/c she just. doesn’t wanna b her

uuuhh wanted to do computer science bc she loves it but her parents were both like ‘lmao we’re not paying for shit if u do that’ bc they don’t think it’s very ~ladylike~ n they still want her to like. just be submissive and obedient n shit.

so she took up journalism b/c neither her parents think it’s like a real career and they just want her to find a husband n get married n settle down n stop being troublesome

fun fact: she has a scholarship for being lefthanded so that pays for Some of it esp b/c she’s an out of state student

still struggles a lil bit w food but she’s like. doing a lot better. goes to group therapy, probably

uuuh that’s it for now i think ??

OH SIKE !! she’s a writer for the newspaper and writes ADVICE columns on various topics b/c she’s good at offering advice but only when she can sit down n think abt it lmao

^^she goes by an alias b/c she just. doesnt want ppl to know its her idk she thinks its embarrassing

other than that she’s probably like ... doing campus tech support b/c that’s her current job but who knows how long that’ll last lmao

knowing her she’s going to accidentally switch into her phone sex voice (another, old job she doesn’t do anymore) n get fired for tryn seduce a man with ‘did u try turning it on and off again?’

OKAY i think that’s all lmao

personality

mari is just. awkward, man

i mean like...she’s sorta bad at talking to others a lot of the time??

like ppl r kinda like ‘how tf r u a delta gamma chi girl’ n she’s just like i mean u h h h h

prolly stutters a lil bit b/c she’s usually rly anxious

but she’s v v nice, like, she tries her hardest to be a good friend n everything

but she also kinda switches her personality to appeal to whoever she’s talking too ?? like she wants to be. likable. she’s not real w/ others v v often

if ur boujie yeah she’ll pretend to be boujie too

she prolly still sells fake IDs to high schoolers n some of her college peers, she has one herself n hasn’t gotten caught yet sooo

always fidgets like she can’t rly sit still often b/c she’s so nervous

is a lil bit of a stoner but i feel like u can’t ever tell tbh

a lil shy n hesitant at first i’d imagine, or maybe just always lmao

has a bit more of a personality once she sucks it up n gets closer to u but she’s always v v cautious abt befriending ppl just b/c she’s had a bad time w bullies n her one friend in life disappeared so like...bummer, y’kno?

can never say no. like, i dont think it’s in her vocabulary. she’s a yes gal.

will p much do anything u ask of her b/c she’s constantly seeking approval

can ramble a bit when she’s nervous which is always but she also apologizes like a lot.

squeaks like a mouse

present at parties but it’s always kinda like. who r u. n she has to remind everybody that she’s a sorority gal too

considers herself v v forgettable, like, just v unimportant

like she’s just rly insecure

still does computer shit n is still rly good at it but she hasn’t done anything srs w/ it so it’s just wasted potential

going to use her journalism degree to do investigative journalism and maybe escape her parents, eventually

she just. bends easily to other’s wills, y’know? she’s hashtag soft

even tho she’s like. shy n awkward n shit it doesn’t take a lot for her to like, laugh, or smile

like she tries rly hard to appear happy n an optimist n just like. unfettered

a lil plain jane we stan

i cant think of anything else but she’s. she’s a good kid

OH she’s rly good w numbers n math but like that’s abt it. she’s a whole dumbass on everything else sometimes

is bad w talking n giving advice like in person but like ?? in her column or ovr text or smth ? she’s good. she’s concise.

is a good team player/good w/ projects/etc. etc.

OH OKAY YEAH

she’s rly observant n b/c she’s a lil bit of a compulsive liar she can usually tell when ppl arent honest

depending on how close y’all r she’ll prolly crack down on ur bullshit

but she’s also timid so like who knows tbh

this isn’t a personality trait but she wears like medium hoop earrings all the time n it’s cute ok bye

OK OK LAST THING

she’s so. fucking. clumsy. she will bump into everything. she’ll bump into the air. fuck, she prolly falls over just standing straight. usually has bruises n scratches from just being a clumsy idiot

like she can b a lil ditzy y’know ?? doesn’t have much common sense, sometimes, n can b naive but idk it’s all rly dependent on her n who she’s w n just. how i end up playing her lmao

lovs vintage. is cute.

wanted connections

her roommate uwu

ppl she’s interacted w/ during her childhood !! she’s moved around a lot so like . . . . they could kno each other

mmm sorority sisters

um gimme a ride or die or like a best friend or smth PLS she needs more friends

just more friends in general. she’s awkward but she needs ‘em

?? a one night stand ?? she’s not really . . . known for hooking up w/ ppl but i think an accidental occurrence would b fun!

idk somebody for her to just. crush on from afar. prolly stutters whenever they come near or talk to her or smth

^^i mean like an unrequited crush

SOMEBODY USE HER ! RUIN HER !

FRIENDS OR FUCKING OR WHATEVER

fake friends too! use her for her ~kewl skillz~

bad influence

let her b a good influence

some kinda...skinny love idk what that means. a will they wont they. smth cute. smth pure

it’d be wild if her partner just popped up outta the blue like that b/c mari 100% thinks they were like killed by the government

ppl she gets high w n talk abt conspiracies w/ tbh

ppl she gives or has given advice to w her column pieces ! love it

idk partners in a class

enemies or smth. i want conflict.

a tutor for her dumbass

but also anybody who needs help in math? she can tutor u

idk like this we can work a lil smth smth out

i give u one penny, if u plot w me. pls. i am poor.

#uclas:intro #like if u'd like to plot w her !!#pls give her love i think i love her

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rosapeachhogwartsmystery · 7 years ago

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Can I really trust you? (Hogwarts Mystery Imagine - fem!reader x Ben Copper)

Masterlist (To view my Masterlist, visit my Tumblr page)

Words: 2497

Pairing: fem!reader x Ben Copper

Summary: You have been staring at Ben more often than you like to admit. Rowan would point out he might have to do something with R you would tell Rowan that Ben wouldn’t lie to you. Once you follow him out of the Great Hall, something happened. Perhaps Rowan was right after all. Ben might not be telling the truth, or is he?

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Ben noticed you have been staring at him more often lately. He just didn’t understand why though. Did he do something wrong? Didn’t you trust him anymore after Rowan became suspicious? It didn’t make sense though, because you said you believed him. Those letters from R were addressed to him, but he just couldn’t remember them. Or perhaps he did remember them, but he tried to forget about it. He didn’t want you to be suspicious of him, after all, you were a really great friend. You have helped him out when he needed it. You even duelled Merula, because she called him a Mudblood. He hasn’t said anything weird to you lately, has he? If he did then he would have been embarrassed about it. No, it couldn’t be that. There must be another reason why you were staring at him. He was sitting in the Great Hall, eating his lunch, when he caught you staring at him again. You quickly looked away when your eyes met each other. What was going on?

Rowan sat next to you and elbowed you. “What are you doing, Y/N?” She asked. “Nothing.” You mumbled, blushing a little. “Oh, so staring at Ben is nothing?” She asked, smirking slightly. “You have doing that a lot lately. You have to be careful, Y/N. He might have seen it.” She said amused. You knew he might have caught you staring at him often, but you definitely wouldn’t admit you did such a thing. “I wasn’t staring at Ben. I was just thinking.” You muttered. “Sure you were.” She said, rolling her eyes. “Let me guess, did those thoughts include Ben?” She teased you. You elbowed her “You are a terrible friend, Khanna.” You said with a grin. “Hey! I’m just looking after you. I mean, after this whole ‘R’ thing, I’m not sure whether Ben is telling the truth or not. I don’t want you to get hurt.” She said honestly.

“Rowan, Ben wouldn’t lie about such a thing.” You said, wanting to believe Ben’s word, but you knew there was always the possibility he might knew something about it. “And if he did something he might not be able to remember it because someone made sure he wouldn’t remember it. Perhaps a Forgetfulness Potion.” You pointed out. “That might be so, but I don’t want you to do something you might regret later.” Rowan said. You sighed and shook your head. There was no way Ben did something bad. You thought Ben was a really sweet guy and you definitely enjoyed being around him. He might be a coward often, but he did help you with the Cursed Vaults. You thought he was really helpful. He was also very talented at Charms and you would sometimes ask him for advice. There was just no way you would be able to see Ben as the bad guy.

Once Ben was about to leave the Great Hall you stood up. “Rowan, I can assure you that Ben doesn’t intend to harm anyone. We can trust him.” You said. “In fact, I’m going to ask him if he wants to help me practice Charms. I feel like it will help me a lot with the Cursed Vaults. I mean, charms will help me with solving the mysteries around the Cursed Vaults.” You said. “Just like any other class.” Rowan pointed out. “That is true, but Ben is especially talented at Charms. Just like Penny is really good at Potions. You are really good at studying.” You said with a smile. Rowan sighed with a smile. “Well, go then. Ben has already left the Great Hall.” She said. You grinned and then you quickly left the Great Hall. You didn’t know where Ben was going, but you managed to spot him in the crowd. You quickly followed after him, wondering where he was going.

Oh, he was going the Artefacts room. You knew Ben would go there often. Perhaps he wanted to be alone? You still wanted to ask him to help you with Charms. You weren’t going to back out of it now. You slowly opened the door. Ben didn’t notice you entering the Artefacts room, like he was busy looking for something inside the room. You slowly walked over to him and then you placed a hand on his shoulder. Ben was startled and grabbed his wand immediately. “Depulso!” He said, pointing his wand at you. Before you knew it, you were blasted against the wall. Things fell onto you and your head began throbbing a lot. You must have hit your head pretty hard. Maybe you should have said something when you entered the room. You couldn’t help it but to feel hurt he would just attack you like that. You quickly tried to get the things off you.

“Y/N?” Ben said surprised slowly stepping closer to you, his eyes widened a little. You bit your lip and then you quickly stood up, leaving the Artefacts Room as quickly as possible. Ben called out your name again, but you didn’t turn around. No, you weren’t going back. He might not have done it on purpose, but the fact he was so startled he attacked you hurt you. He was up to something, you just knew he was up to something. You didn’t want to listen to Rowan, but it was hard to ignore such evidence. You knew you should probably head to the Hospital Wing now. Your head hurt a lot and you knew it was better to get it fixed.

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“So, you don’t know who attacked you, miss Y/L/N?” Madam Pomfrey asked when she used a healing spell. “No, I wasn’t really looking where I was going when I was attacked.” You lied. “That is unusual.” She said. “I mean, normally you know what happened and who were involved.” She pointed out. “Yeah, I was daydreaming a bit. Probably not a good idea.” You lied, trying to smile a little. She sighed a little. “Well, you are good to go. And please, try to be more careful. Such accidents can be prevented easily.” She said. “I will try to be more careful. Thanks for the help, Madam Pomfrey.” You said when you left the Hospital Wing.

You sighed once you were out, slowly making your way to the common room. You wanted to hide in your dormitory, thinking that would be the only place you could think clearly now. You didn’t want to face anyone. Rowan would probably ask you what happened and probably suspect Ben even more. You definitely didn’t want to face Ben now. You didn’t want to assume things. You just thought the whole scene was really suspicious. Perhaps it was your own fault for not saying anything when you entered the room. Then again, he could have done the same thing if he heard you speak up. After all you had entered the room without him realizing it. Maybe your voice would have startled him just as much. You didn’t want to think about it. It had happened and it was enough to confuse you. Maybe you were just too blind to see Ben was being suspicious, because you liked him more than you would like to admit.

On your way to your Common Room you saw Ben. Your eyes widened and you quickly tried to take a different way. Of course, Ben had already seen you and began following you. You tried to speed up the pace, hoping you could lose him on the way. The last thing you wanted was to talk to Ben. You weren’t thinking straight and you needed to think straight to make the right decision, at least you thought you would make the right the decision if you were thinking more straight. You just couldn’t talk to him right now. You just knew it.

You froze when Ben had caught your hand. You stopped walking, not turning around to look at him. “Y/N…” He spoke softly. You didn’t know what to say. Your eyes were getting watery and you refused to turn around. You weren’t going to cry, you refused to cry. “I’m sorry for hitting you with that charm.” He said softly, sounding apologetic. “I didn’t mean to hit you. I just didn’t know it was you.” He said honestly. You bit your lip, closing your eyes. You hoped your tears would disappear, but they didn’t. Tears were already rolling down your cheeks. “No...! I-I didn’t mean to make you cry...!” He said, panicking a little when he walked in front of you. He gently grabbed your shoulder, but you struggled a bit, making him let go.

“Are you being honest with me, Ben?” You asked softly. “What do you mean?” He asked. “I want to trust you, Ben. I really do, but the way you are acting… I can’t help to wonder if you are lying to me.” You said softly. “W-what? No, I’m not lying to you.” He said. “Why were you in the Artefacts Room looking for something…? I know you get startled easily, but you have never grabbed your wand before.” You said, looking into his eyes. Tears were still falling down. You wanted to hear the truth. “I was just looking for some charms to practice. I swear, I didn’t mean to hurt you!” He said. His eyes were getting watery as well. “How can I be sure you are telling the truth, Ben?” You asked. “I don’t want to suspect you, I really don’t, but you have been acting strange.” You said.

“Please, Y/N. You have to believe me. I don’t remember those letters. I really don’t remember writing R. I’m not doing anything against you.” Ben said, tears rolling down his face. “For Merlin’s sake... I don’t know what to believe anymore…! These Cursed Vaults, they only cause trouble.” You mumbled to yourself, panicking a bit. You really didn’t know what to do. You definitely still liked Ben, but how could you like him if he does know something about R? You didn’t want to be lied to. No matter what the reason was. You needed to keep looking for the Cursed Vaults to find Jacob. You knew if your brother wasn’t missing things might have been normal. What if there were more people you couldn’t trust? What if you couldn’t trust your friends? There would be nobody left. Your mother doesn’t want to hear anything about the Cursed Vaults and you knew your dad wouldn’t either after Jacob’s disappearance. You would be all alone…

Your eyes widened when Ben pulled you into a tight hug. “B-Ben?” You said very softly, surprised by his action. “I don’t want you to think I’m not being honest with you.” He said. “I want you to trust me.” He said softly, still not letting go. “I want to trust you as well.” You spoke up softly. “Then, how could I prove it to you?” He asked softly. “Really, I would do anything.” He said, sounding just a little nervous. You thought about something, wondering if he would tell you the truth. “Do you promise to tell me the truth…?” You asked. “Of course.” He said immediately. “Have… have you seen me do something more often lately…?” You asked. “I-eh… I think so…” He said softly. “What have I been doing?” You asked, blushing slightly. “You were… you were staring at me.” He said. “Do you know why...?” You asked. “No, I really don’t.” He said honestly. You avoided his gaze, blushing more. You bit your lip, wondering if you should tell him why you have been staring at him. You took a deep breath.

“I like you, Ben… I really like you.” You said seriously. Ben looked baffled, almost wanting to make himself believe you just really liked him as a good friend. But he couldn’t do that. He knew what kind of like you were talking about. “I-if I wasn’t clear enough, I fancy you, Ben…” You mumbled softly, blushing more. You slowly hid your face in your hands, feeling a bit embarrassed you have told him you liked him. “That is why I do want to trust you. I don’t want to feel like you are suspicious.” You said softly. It all sounded a little muffled, because you didn’t pull your hands away from your face. Meanwhile Ben was trying to let this all sink in. He didn’t expect to hear this from you after you began crying. He thought the friendship would be over after he attacked you by accident. Now he was feeling like a blushing mess.

Ben slowly pulled your hands away from your face, looking into your eyes. “Do you actually mean it?” He asked. You nodded. “Do I have to say it again?” You asked, still blushing. He shook his head and then he leant in closer to your face. “I actually like you a lot too…” He said softly, blushing a lot. You couldn’t refrain yourself from kissing him. He tensed up a little for a moment. Once he relaxed he kissed you back. The kiss was sweet and you could feel the tension you felt earlier leaving your body. You were sure about one thing; he liked you as well. If he didn’t like you he would probably have let you know in some kind of way. He wouldn’t have kissed you back if he didn’t like you nor he would have told you.

You two looked at each other, both still blushing a lot. “I hope that convinced you that I’m honest with you.” He said softly. “I promise I will tell you the truth.” He said softly. You nodded lightly. “I believe you, Ben.” You said softly. You rubbed away the last tears, slowly smiling again. He seemed to smile as well. Perhaps running into him wasn’t as bad as you anticipated. You definitely felt a lot better about everything. You have got a lot off your chest and it made you feel pretty calm again. Well, you were also excited because you have just kissed your crush and admitted you liked him. You were happy he liked you back and you knew this was the start of something new.

Ben held your hand when you two walked towards the Great Hall. You two weren’t saying much besides smiling a lot. It was like you two didn’t need any words to show each other how you were feeling. Although Ben decided to bring up the attack. “I feel like I have to make things up with you.” He said. “Please, I’m going to feel bad if I don’t do anything.” He said honestly. “Hm…” You thought about what he could do. “Perhaps you could help me with Charms, so I can improve myself.” You said. “Or, perhaps we can go to Hogsmeade together.” You said with a grin. “How about we do both?” Ben said with a smile. “I really like that idea a lot.”

#harry potter hogwarts mystery #hogwarts mystery #hogwarts mobile game #hogwarts mystery imagine #ben copper #mc #rowan khanna #harry potter imagine #imagine

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multifandomshipping · 8 years ago

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Hey, me again~ First of all I have to say how much I love your blog. You both are putting so much love and passion into it and I really appreciate this. You both totally deserve all the followers you currently have and all followers that are going to find this block and love it like I do. So a real big thank you for doing this ❤

And I wanted to ask if I could get a “Theme Week” Ship? It can be smutty if you feel like writing it but it hasn’t to be 😉 I hope I answered everything correctly, because I was a bit confused in the beginning tbh 😅

Fave Character: Hermione Granger House: Slytherin Fave location: Black Lake or Slytherin common room Fave spell: Legilimens Fave teacher: Professor Snape A person you don’t like: Ron Weasley Blood status: Pureblood Who is your love/BF: Jeon Jungkook Fave Animal: Fox Which HP characters are you shipping: Hermione and Draco

@heartprincesselinachan-blog Hey again lovely :D Aww cutie you make us so happy with the text you wrote that’s amazing ! Thank you so much we really appreciate it and we want to say a big thank you too because we have such awesome followers like you ❤️️ Here is your scenario sweetie ;) You are most compatible with J-Hope 😊

1st year: You got the letter from Hogwarts 1 month ago and you were really excited. You were getting your things for Hogwarts in the Diagon Alley with your family when you meet a girl,” Hey I’m Y/N nice to meet you !” She looked fierce at you then she said to fast,” My name is Hermione and I’m a Muggle ! Do you want be one of my new friends ?” You laughed at her,” Well yes sure Hermione you seem very nice and eager.” She smiled,” Yes I always am and I love learning ! Do you know a lot about magic ?” You nodded,” Yes I’m a Pure-Blood and my whole Family works at the Ministry of Magic !” She was shocked,” Wow that’s cool I want to work there too when I graduate from Hogwarts.” The conversation lasts for about an 1 hour and she became your new best friend. At Hogwarts you were nervous but Hermione assured you that you two will get into Gyriffindor. When the Sorting Hat was on your head he said,” You have a good soul and you’re very clever so Gryffindor would be an option for you but I in your future you will change a lot and you won't be the same person anymore. So.... Slytherin it is !” You were about to cry what did he mean ? Why would you change ? Will something bad happen ?. Hermione and you were still meeting and you ignored the stares from the other Slytherins. You had 2 new friends called Yoongi and Hoseok.

2nd year: The other Slytherins did not accept you because you were a good person even some of them harassed you but Hermione defended you. She asked you to come with her, Harry and Ron to solve the mystery about the Chamber of Secrets. You helped them as much as you could but Snape was watching you all the time. One day you meet a cute boy at the Black Lake. You said,” Oh a Hufflepuff I never talked to one I heard Hufflepuff’s are the nicest people on earth is that true ? My name is Y/N by the way !” He was very shy and began to speak,” Eeee...mmhhh my name ii..ss Jungkook ! I well... I think yes we a...rre nice.” You began to smile of how cute he is,” Don't be shy Jungkook I’m not bad just because I’m in Slytherin !” He smiled and said goodbye then he run away. You loved his black hair and bunny smile. You told Hermione about him and she said,” I think I like Ron Y/N what should I do ?” Your mouth hang open,” Ron ? RON ? nooooo he is not your type ! Maybe Draco ? He is way better for you ! She made gag sounds,” EW no not Draco I would rather die than date him !” You shrugged and walked back to the Slytherin common room. Yoongi and Hoseok were sitting on the Sofa. Yoongi said,” Hey Y/N do you want a chocolate frog ? My brother send me them today.” You nodded and took one. You said,” Are you guys bad or why do you think that the Sorting Hat has sorted you into Slytherin ?” Hoseok swallowed,” No not bad but maybe we treat people a little bit colder .” You said,” But I do not ! I am so friendly.” Yoongi laughed,” Yeah too friendly for sure !” You sighed and went to your room.

3rd year: Draco asked you if you want to hang out with him a few weeks ago since then he became one of your friends. Draco said,” You are very beautiful Y/N why do you hang out with that Muggle girl and Harry Potter ?” You waited a few seconds before answering,” I like her, she is very nice and a good friend ! I can relay on her and she helps me with homeworks.” He shook his head,” You don't have to be her friend ! I’m reliable too and you would be accepted from the other Slytherins.” You thought for a minute,” Well we could try that out but I will hang out with her once a week.” He nodded. You walked to the Black Lake to meet Hermione. You two hugged then she said,” So what do you want to talk about ?” You took her hand and said,” I don't want to hang out that much with you anymore because I’m friends now with Draco and the other Slytherins would accept me !” She glared at you,” Ohh just because you want to be accepted you hang out with false friends ? Their not even your “friends”. You were about to cry,” No Hermione they are my friends and you need to accept that ! Just because you are not popular you say something like that !” She screamed,” THEN GO TO YOUR NEW FRIENDS I DONT NEED YOU !” Then she walked off. Hoseok and Yoongi saw what happened and asked you,” What was that about ?” You didn’t say anything just hugged them both for comfort.

4th year: What the Sorting Hat said was true you changed and became one of the bad ones. You, Yoongi and Hoseok are the Trio of the bad side along with Draco and his friends. When you heard about the Yule Ball you decided to go with both Yoongi and Hoseok. You wore something short and sexy. Everyone was looking at you. Hermione couldn’t understand why you became so slutty. When one of your jams came on and you danced wildly and rubbed your butt against Hoseok’s, Yoongi’s and Draco’s pelvis. You where turned on the first time in your life and you loved it. At that night you made out with all 3 of the boys. Since then you were the hot girl of school and you had a lot of boyfriends. You never felt love but it was fun. One day you meet Jungkook in the corridors. You smiled at him and rubbed his arm,” Hey cutie do you want to eat lunch with me ?” He shrugged you off and said,” No not interested ! I’m not one of your lovers.” Then he walked away. You loved him but you didn’t wanted to change your style because you liked it. Hoseok became your first long time boyfriend.

5th year: You are so popular now and every boy wants you. Hoseok was very jealous and one day he said to you,” Y/N just stop you have me now why are you dressing so revealing ?” You were annoyed and said,” Because I like this style and the attention !” He was about to cry and said,” Well then I’m breaking up with you !” You said,” Fine go away I can handle that .” Then you walked away. A week later you got a new boyfriend named John. He is hot, very tall and strong. One day he trapped you against the wall and kissed you wildly. You were used to do that but this time he wanted more. He touched your boobs and undid his jeans. You screamed,” WHAT ARE YOU DOING ? I’M STILL A VIRGIN AND YOU ARE NOT THE RIGHT ONE FOR ME SO STOP IT ! He just laughed and began to undress you. You fighted against him but he was too strong. But then you heard a loud bam and John was on the ground unconscious. Hoseok saved you. You cried into his arms he carried you bridal style back to your room. You said,” Thank you so much Hoseok I love you ! He tried to rape me and you saved me my hero.” “Shhhhh Y/N don't talk you need to sleep baby ! I love you too.” He forgave you and you were once again a couple.

6th year: You changed your style once again completely to innocent and everyone ignored you again. It does not bother you because you had Hoseok. Yoongi helped to be friends with Hermione again and it worked. Hermione and you were best friends again. Draco were disappointed in you and called you a betrayer. This life made you happier and you knew that Hoseok is the love of your life. Hoseok showed you the Room of Requirement. You two imagined to be in a warm and cozy Cabin. The fireplace was on the right and a big queen sized bed was on the other side. You two hugged each other and looked into the fire. Hoseok began to speak,” Y/N I love you so much ! And I want you to always be with me.” You smiled,” I want to be with you too !” He smiled and kissed you. The kiss grew more passionate and you wanted him. You broke the kiss and said,” Hoseok I’m ready !” He looked deeply into your eyes carried you to the bed,” Are you sure ? I don't want to hurt you !” You smiled and nodded heavily. He began to kiss your neck and you moaned for the first time. You pulled him in more and ripped his shirt off. He unbuttoned you blouse and kissed your breasts. The other clothes came off pretty fast and you saw his erection ready to enter you. You took a deep breath and he trusted slowly into you. It hurts but you don't want it to stop. After a few minutes the pain was away and you assured him that you were alright. You moaned louder and he trusted into with a fast rhythm. His moans became louder and his penis twitched inside of you. Your orgasm hit you hard. You both were so happy and totally in love with each other. The other day you woke up next to a naked Hoseok. You kissed his full lips and saw the hickeys you left on his collarbone. He said,” Good morning my love. Are you okay ?” You smiled,” Yes I am just a little sore but fine. That was the best night of my life.” He caressed your arm and gave you a light kiss on the forehead,” Yes mine too sweetie.” You two dressed and got back into your rooms. Hoseok told Yoongi and you told Hermione. She was shocked but happy that he is the one you love.

7th year: You didn’t liked the fact that Hermione was with Ron all the time. Hoseok tried to calm you down because you were scared of Voldemort. The day came and you, Hoseok and Yoongi fought on the side of Harry Potter. Luckily no one was seriously injured. You became a good Magician and learned everything from Hermione. After graduating from Hogwarts you married Hoseok after 2 years. You two have 3 sons and 1 girl. They are named Ichiro ( that means first son ), Youngjae, Win and Nami. You work at the Ministry of Magic and Hoseok owns a Candy shop in the Diagon Alley. Hermione visited you with her kids every weekend. Sadly your kids and her kids couldn’t go to school together because her children go to a muggle school.

OMG that BTS Hogwarts pic is life 😍

Thats my very first time ever writing a smut so don't be angry with me when I described something wrong I’m so shy 🙈

I hope you like it and sorry for not choosing Jungkook but you are most compatible with J-hope by the answers you gave us❤️️

Feel free to request more lovely !

Thanks for requesting 😊

Have an amazing day 🍀

°Admin Kookka

#theme week #kpop #bts #hoseok #jungkook #yoongi #hermione #draco #fantastickpopshiptrash #have fun #i hope you're happy #submission

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priestcatte-blog · 8 years ago

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Sini’s Dark Knight story part 4

Sini would now leave the mansion more often, not only to go visit his love in the Goblet, but also to meet with the Dark Knight in La Noscea, to train away from prying eyes several times a week. The Jackals would not like having a broody stranger around the mansion and garden, and the wilderness had much more space and privacy. As per the Knights advice, Sini fought with a simple greatsword now that Bert had made for him, and he was slowly making progress.

It was a truly cheesy name, Dark Knight, Sini thought to himself as he crossed swords with the older Keeper again, but he couldnt think of a better name. The man had told Sini his name by now, Ome'a Molkot, but being mentor and pupil Sini wasn't gonna call him that. And the guy was clad in a blackened heavy armor after all... Sini had asked him once why, and the reply had been: "There are several like me, i know that much, but they don't all look like 'Dark Knights'. That's just a name people made up because it's so ominous and mysterious. And many of us are not much liked either. But i digress... this armors colour is just coincidence, personal preference. Some look like normal Knights. Some look nothing like Knights at all, more like commoners, but that doesn't change what they are and do." Sini already knew what they all had in common, the fight against injustice and the use of the so called 'dark arts', a technique they developed in Ishgard in secrecy. Sini knew that much already, so he didnt have to ask his mentor about that. He had already made some visits to Ishgard, to see the seminarium and learn more about the ishgardian way of priesthood, and at these occasions he secretly looked some of the stories about these 'Dark Knights' up.

He would ask about the Dark Arts at some point, maybe, probably... he didn't plan to yet. For now it was important to simply learn how to fight well with a greatsword and armor. Sini had told him about his first succesful, real fight. It had been on the bridge in lower La Noscea, where Sini and Shin, together with some friends of hers, had to fight off a group of scoundrels who wanted to get rid of her. Among these, Sini succesfully fought and killed a Hyur with a greatsword, an Elezen swordsman and a Roegadyn with an axe. All in teamwork with Shin and her friends of course. Why all Roes seemed to fight with axes was a curiosum that probably would keep puzzling scholars for ages... In any case, this earned Sini the approval and respect of his mentor. Good job and keep it up, the usual words one would expect. But also "Seems i were not wrong with my estimation of you." Well that was nice to hear.

But training would continue further of course, and so it did on this day too. Although Sini didn't seem very concentrated. They were sparring, training moves and reactions, as his mentors sword slammed against the protection on Sini's upper right arm. They lowered their weapons and Ome'a took off his helmet. "Get yourself together, you are not really here, not in the fight with your thoughts! Are you thinking about your sweetheart again?" Sini held his right arm in pain, but a wide grin spread on his lips nonetheless as he thought about Shin. He could hear Ome mumble something about "worst priest...", but Sini shook his head. "No... no, it's not her, actually... we got trouble in our company. Nothing i should share with outsiders..." The older Miqo'te nodded, and gestured him to follow him to the side, where they took a break standing in the shadow beneath a tree. "Yeah, thats understandable... but it eats at you, it seems." Sini leaned his sword against the bark, and rubbed his neck while looking away. "Yeah, well... it's someone i don't have a problem with usually... her name is Thya. You fought with her in the job you gave us." He nodded again, remembering. His interest was peaked. "Ah, yes... i do remember her. Fights similar to me, i am quite curious how she learned the arts... but it's not that which worries you, right? You knew about that." "Yeah... you cannot miss it when fighting with her, and i did. But no... it's something else. I just... i won't talk about it. But i feel like i cannot trust her anymore. For Reasons i cannot disclose. And that makes everything... complicated of course... I still have to work with her. Wavering trust is a problem, but i see no way how this can be solved easily." "Hm... yeah... thats bad..." The old man sat down, his armor creaking a little. He flicked his black furred ears and looked back to Limsa Lominsa, the cityscape visible in the distance. They fell silent for a moment, with only the sound of the wind and the sheep grazing nearby reaching their ears.

"I will be honest, i don't know a simple solution either. Or any advice. It's a shitty situation, but there's no help beside her regaining your trust. However she could accomplish that, i don't know the details..." Sini sighed, running a hand throuhg his grey hair and sitting down with his back against the tree. "I know... i will figure something out." Ome'a suddenly grinned, and looked back to Sini'to. "Heh, i was gonna say, i can maybe give you something to distract you from that. But i guess you have plenty of distraction with your sweetheart already, whenever you want." Sini smiled again. Yes, he had been very happy lately, before the thoughts about Thya and her family clouded his mind, but it had been pretty obvious still. And it was a nice feeling to see when people were happy for him. "But i am a curious sort... you can still show me. What did you have in mind?"

The old man reached for something under his armor, a little bag that he seemingly always had close to his body. He opened it and took a small black crystal out, adorned with a golden symbol. It was fitting into his palm perfectly. "Do you know what this is?" Sini straightened up a little, raising his brows. "Yes... that's a soulstone, no? I heard they are pretty rare. But i read about them. That little symbol differentiates it from a gem." Ome'a nodded. "Yes, smart one. It's my soulstone. I got this one from my master, the one who picked me up from the brume after my mother died and trained me. He got it from his master and where he got it from, i have no idea. I assume some Knights just started to make these, like other soulstones that are around, to pass them on. Like we do with our art. Master, apprentice, master, apprentice, and so on... So you know what it can do." Sini leaned forward, inspecting the stone curiously. He nodded slowly, hesitant. "Yes... i assume it could allow someone to learn your dark arts, as you called them... i have spoken with Thya about it once. She said it's a dark force inside you, that you can harness to empower yourself, but you have to be careful... the price to pay is an internal struggle. She called it a voice in your head, that speaks to you and wants to make you do things, or even take over herself... but then again it's not really just some voice, it's still you. It's another you, but still you. Part of you. She said it's hard to describe..." "Hmm, yes..." The black haired keeper held the small stone up betwen his index and thumb, tilting his head a little as he watched it. It was slightly heart shaped and deep black, like the purest Onyx Sini had ever seen, the light shining on its polished surface. "That's one way to put it. I also heard it does differ from person to person, and manifests differently for different people. She is right, it's nothing from outside, it's all you. So you don't need to worry about that, you don't get a voice in your head. It is like... urges and desire. You know? We all have urges, but of course, we don't just give in to them. We are civilized, we know what we can do and what we better shouldn't do. We fight our urges. It is like that, just stronger. Go ahead, bash that guys face in. He deserves it! Make him pay. Who cares about the people staring? Just let him feel the pain, pay him back tenfold, nay, hundred! Like that. For example."

He was very calm as he talked about it like that, and Sini watched him with a frown, not sure what to think. "You can control it. You learn that. It's not much different then than controling our daily urges. It's just when we tire and slip that it gets dangerous. If the urges take control of us, if we go and bash that guys head in, we have to live with the consequences. But... the powers it can grant are very, very useful... you might have already seen some of the things one can do with it from your friend Thya." He held it out for Sini, looking him straight in the eyes. "You'll have already guessed it by now, i want to give it to you. I had an apprentice once, but he died, and now im old and dont want to go through that again, and i dont know if i would even live long enough. But you are smart, you are capable, and you can make good use of the things i show and teach you. You're not a warrior, but a mage... you have to learn to fight, but the powers and magics you will learn with this stone will be much easier for you, i am sure. You are smart, you can figure it out. And i figure using the magics the dark arts grant will be very useful for you. You can, no you must incorporate them into your fighting. That's what makes a 'so called Dark Knight' much better than any other ordinary fighter. You could use magical shields, for example. But as said, you'll prolly have seen from your friend what else it can do..."

Sini was staring at the stone with a frown. He was clearly hesitant, reaching out but not taking it yet. "I don't know... Thya said there's no going back." Ome'a shrugged. "That's true, i guess. I never tried. But yeah, i guess think good about it. Go ahead, you can take it, it wont just go and imbue you with scary dark powers. It won't do anything unless you concentrate on it." "You don't need it anymore?" "No... it literally only teaches you. It's filled up with... the experiences of its former bearers, to say it in lack of a better description. I can't describe how it works, but you can learn with it, things just seem to come to you naturally with it. I already know everything, i know how to use the Darkness. You don't need to stone for it, it just shows you how. And i will give it to you anyway, if you decide to learn it or not. I'm old, as said, and i rather give it away before i die somewhere and it gets lost. Even if you don't use it, you can give it to someone else." Sini nodded and sighed, reaching for the stone and taking it. It felt cold in his hand, and smooth, not different to any other gem. Unconsciously, with his other hand he reached for the glas encased pieces of topaz that were hanging on a chain around his neck, a gift made by Shin. They were the broken remains of the gem with which he always had summoned his carbuncle Puff, since his childhood. Symbol of his lifelong practised arcanism, that was failing on him now and again lately.

He nodded to the old Knight and closed his fist around the soulstone, his voice steadfast. "Alright. You are entrusting me with something important to you. I thank you, and promise to make or find good use of it. I apprecaite it." The other keeper smiled faintly. "Heh. Well... thanks for taking care of my legacy, so to say." He got up and stretched, holding his back like a typical old man. He looked back to the City in the distance again, and Sini swore the Knight even got a bit melancholic. "It's a chain of tradition that goes on and on, and should be kept going...keep the art alive and all that. It's like life, really. Old teach the new, things get passed on from generation to generation, and so on and so on..." He gazed out into the distance and fell silent, and Sini could only imagine the things that probably went through the old keepers head. What if his life had taken different turns? What if he had grown up in the shroud instead? What if he, instead of leading a vigilante life, had settled down and got a family? Who knew, who knew... what if, could have been, all that didn't matter in the end... Life was what it was right now, and none of us could change the past. Ome'a chuckled and shook his head, probably thinking just the same as Sini right now.

He took his helmet and put it back on his head. Now he was the image of a Dark Knight again, gone was the old man, hidden beneath a blackened suit of armor and only for few to know. "Heh. Thanks again. See you around next time. And don't die, alright? Would be a shame. Your sweetheart would be sad." With that, he strode off, towards Limsa Lominsa, leaving Sini behind underneath that tree. The grey priest in a training suit of armor followed the Knight with his gaze until he was out of sight, sitting there and pondering.

#ffxiv #roleplay #balmung

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