#maybe alos a good cry later

[miraeism]

i can’t wait to be done with college

[4joonkookie]

Break Me Off Another Time ♥

Just some smutty musings and 300-600 word drabble/scenarios to consider while your vibrator is charging. Jungkook is a menace.

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Words: Individual word counts and TAGS are listed, 3.3K total.

Masturbation Monday 630 words - masturbation, JK finishes what you start

You find yourself in a smutty rabbit hole in your phone, waiting for JK to get home. It’ll still be awhile before he does. Half horny, half bored, and convinced you can get yourself off without ruining yourself for him later. 

You find the right content to get off and slip your fingers beneath the waistband of your panties, sliding your fingers and spreading your wetness around. 

Not wanting to wear yourself out, you focus right on your clit, chasing it quickly, hands moving swiftly beneath the sheet. 

The bedroom door opens. You jump out of your skin and toss the phone on the bed.

He knows. A mischievous grin forms on his face right away.

“Whatcha doin'?” he asks, crawling on the bed with a suspicious cocked eyebrow. 

“Nothing, I just_,” you start to explain, and he reaches for your phone on the bed. You clamor to reach it before he does and tuck it close to your chest. 

“Let me see. What are you up to?” He teases, reaching for the phone. 

You keep a tight grip on it and he tickles your side to get it free. He lifts it and his eyes go wide. 

“Oh…” He says. And you could swear all the blood in your body rushes to your face. You try to smother yourself with a pillow. 

“You’re getting off to a video of us?!”

“Well, there are worse things, don’t you think?” The heat of embarrassment somehow gets worse. 

“So impatient,” he continues, pulling the pillow off your face. “How far did you get?” He asks, reaching his fingers between your legs and his eyes go wide in delight. “Oh, pretty far,” he coos, pressing his lips to the side of your neck. “So wet.” 

“Yeah, maybe we could just…” You trail off, pulling his body on top of yours. 

“No, no, no, I want you to finish,” he says, sitting with his back to the headboard and guiding you to press your back against his chest with his knees outside of yours, cradling you in. He holds the phone where you both can see it and guides your other hand back to your pussy. 

The video keeps playing and you move your hands slowly, unsure, head resting on his chest, his knees outside of yours. 

“That’s it,” He encourages. Out of the corner of your vision, you see his eyes are aimed down at your center. Hot breath on your neck. “It was hot enough thinking I just walked in on you jerking off, much less doing it to us. I told you making that was a good idea.”

You chuckle, circling fingers on yourself. “Shut up,”

He laughs. “Keep going, just like that, baby.” The phone is in one hand, showing off his hardbody plowing into you. He uses two fingers, lewdly spreading your lips so he can see your swollen clit better. 

Your knees start to buckle, close to coming. 

He removes your hands and gives you the screen. Replacing your hand with his, he keeps moving on you. Your eyes are darting from the screen and back to his tattooed fingers, making quick work of your pussy, sending you careening over the edge. 

“Is my good girl gonna come for me?” And he uses his body to keep your squirming one still as you cry out. His fingers circle faster and the orgasm crashes into you, phone fallen on the bed. ‘That’s it," he coos, letting it wash over you. Eventually slowing his hand down to a stop. You pant right there in his lap. He pushes 2 fingers inside, sending a shockwave of sensitivity through your body. He pulls them out and brings them to his lips, sucking them clean. 

Tasty Tuesday 540 words - teasing/edging, face riding

“Pleeeeeeease, JK.”

Your body is on fire. He's been teasing you for what feels like hours.

He’s been tracing his tongue along the inside of your thighs, leaving gentle bites and sucking little marks. He hasn’t touched your pussy at all and he swipes your hand away when you try it yourself. 

“I don’t think you’re ready,” he hums. 

Your body jolts when you finally feel something on your pussy. It's his fingers, spreading your lips apart. And you almost feel his mouth on you, but it’s only air. Warm breath blowing over your clit, causing it to painfully throb.

You groan and he chuckles. You prop yourself on your elbows, looking up at him with your best puppy dog eyes. 

“JK, I need it, please,” you beg, pushing your hips toward him. 

He dips 2 fingers inside, slowly pushing them in and out. Offering you something and it's heaven. But not where you need it most. 

“How bad do you need it?” He teases, voice low and sultry, not changing the speed of his fingers. 

“So bad,” you whine, desperate. Tangling a hand in his hair, you instinctively push him down. He resists but looks intrigued. 

“That bad?” He leans down and draws his tongue up from your opening to your clit and you just about scream. 

You keep his head pushed down with all your might, but he only maintains his slow licks, sending electricity to your spine when he flicks over your clit. 

Finally, he stops resisting his head and lets you push him right where you want him. He latches his mouth to you and focuses right on your clit, and it's almost too much after waiting so long. 

You press his whole face on your pussy and thrust your hips up to his mouth, never letting go of the hold on his dark locks. 

Suddenly, he fights free, pulling himself off you. He’s gorgeous. Hair a mess with glossy pink lips.

“Come here,” he says, laying on his back on the bed.

You know what he wants. 

He loves this, but you’re always a bit insecure about it. He senses your hesitation but pulls you by the arms toward him, now as desperate as you. He moves you so your thighs are straddled around his face and he pulls you down hard, suctioning his mouth to your pussy. 

And every insecurity leaves your body when the warmth of his mouth is on you again. He encourages your hips to start moving.

You moan, grinding on his face without even thinking. Couldn’t stop if you wanted to. You grab the side of his face and ride, taking everything he has to give you. 

He has one arm wrapped around your hips, pulling you down. The other hand is stroking himself wildly. He starts to moan and the vibrations from his voice have you coming even faster. 

You speed up, riding his face and feeling his lips, his tongue, his breath, everything right at your center. His moans get high pitched, pressed against your flesh. You know he’s close, too.

You see white and your ears ring when you come, convulsing, then slowly halting on his face. Feel spurts of JK’s cum spill on your back and ass.

Wet Wednesday 340 words - hot tub sexing, silicone-based lube

You and JK are making out in the hot tub, legs straddling him on the steps. He pulls away, heated. “Do you want to go inside?” He asks, suggesting to take this back to the room. 

“No,” you reply, kissing his neck and he lolls his head back, hard cock pressing against you. You reach over to where your purse sits on the edge of the tub. Pull out a bottle of lube. 

“MMm,” he hums, looking at you. “You planned this,” he says, drawing the string of your bathing suit bottom and pulling them down. 

“Maybe,” you wink. “Sit up for a minute.” 

He pulls his shorts down underwater and sits up on the edge. Looking around to be sure the coast is still clear, you pour lube over JKs cock and his eyes roll back as spread it around his shaft with your hand. 

You guide him back onto the first step and straddle him, lowering yourself onto his slicked cock underwater. 

You groan together as you settle onto him. He places his hands on your hips as you circle around his lap, warm water lapping over your bodies. 

You try to keep yourself quiet, but your panting can be heard in the air. There's rustling in the bushes, an animal, maybe, but it starts to spook you both. 

“Hurry,” he says, thrusting faster from below.

He hits deeper right at your spot and you cry out. He quickly places his hand over your mouth to quiet you, never stopping his pace. You have no control anymore. You can only hang around his neck while he fucks you from below. 

“Fuck, I’m gonna come, baby. Fuck. Fuck,” He whispers. His warmth spills inside and you whine behind the palm of his hand as you come and clench around his cock. He grunts through gritted teeth. You both pant and come down. 

Then, headlights pull forward at the gate by the hot tub. You both jump out, get clothes at least half way on, jump the fence, and run. 

Thigh-Ride Thursday 330 words - thigh riding, bondage, ruined orgasm

JK is tied naked to a chair, a tie wrapped around his wrists. He has a shimmer to him, sweat glistening over his chest and abs. His chest heaves and his cock stands hard and aching between his legs. 

You drag your fingertips over his nipples, making his body shake. Wrap your hand around his shaft again and stroke aggressively until his hips buck up and he’s lifting off the seat of his chair. Just before he’s over the edge, you remove your hand. Evil. 

“Noona,” he whines. “Pleeeease.”

“This is payback for the other day,” you say, kneeling between his legs. 

“I’m sorry, baby, pleeease. I need to come so bad,”

You tilt your head in sympathy and relish having control over him like this. You run your fingertips over his nipples and watch him squeal. 

“Me first,” you say. 

You straddle yourself over one of his thighs and begin sliding back and forth, gliding your pussy over the smooth skin of his leg and loving the friction. 

He’s left looking forlorn, forced to just sit and watch. 

“Fuck, you look so good,” he moans. “I can’t wait to fuck you.”

You notice his arms are shifting behind him.  

“Don’t loosen yourself,” you warn. 

“I’m not,”  he says with innocent eyes. And you keep sliding, feasting your eyes on him, watching his pretty cock leak at the very sight of you. 

He lifts his thigh up, pressing harder against your core and you close your eyes, chasing it.

You grind your way through it, open your eyes, and see him free himself from the tie. He reaches for your hips. 

“I didn’t say you could,” you scold. And without a second thought, you wrap a hand around his cock and stroke with intention. His eyes go wide and he moans. Coming and spilling over his abs and you stroke him through it. 

He gasps and shakes. “MM… so mean,” he whines. 

Four-wheel drive Friday  325 words - car sex, blowjob, spit, spitting

It started innocently enough. Your hand resting on JK’s thigh as he drives to your destination. 

It’s escalated to the point where you’re unbuckled, disheveled, and bent over the center console with his cock down your throat. He has one hand on the steering wheel and the other tangled in your hair. 

Suddenly, the tires skid as he turns into a parking lot and stops behind a building. 

“You don’t think we’ll get caught here?” You ask.

He doesn’t answer, just guide your head back down where you can properly suck him. Lips wrapped tight around his shaft and the tip hitting the back of your throat. He reclines the seat and you both take advantage of being able to do this properly (and safely). 

Soon, he stops you, pulling your head off. 

“Get in the back,” he says through kisses at the back of the car. He kneels between your legs in the cramped back seat, already pulling the panties from underneath your dress and around your ankles. 

“You’re so fucking desperate,” you hiss, through kisses and he bites your bottom lip. 

“Shut up,” he seethes, “You’d still need this even if I hadn’t fucked you twice today already.”

He unbuckles his belt and lowers his pants. He wraps arms around your thighs and pulls you down onto his dick over and over. It's uncomfortable in the cramped backseat, but it hurts in the best way. 

He looks down and watches himself disappear inside you. Then, purses his lips and spits where your bodies meet. He spits again over your clit and moves his fingers to spread it. You can feel the car rocking back and forth. 

He pulls out and leans over your face, spilling inside, wringing himself into your open mouth. 

“Let me see,” he says breathlessly and prying your jaw open. He hums in satisfaction at the sight of your mouth full of cum, purses his lips again and spills saliva into your mouth. 

“Good girl,” he says. 

Six-Pack Saturday 375 words - gym sex, doggystyle, creampie

You set down your dumbbells and sit for a rest on the bench. Looking in the mirror, you see JK on a pull-up machine behind you. A beautiful distraction. 

He’s in a pair of sweats only, glistening from the waist up. You take out your earbuds to hear him, little grunts and pants as he works his way through a set, watching the veins and muscles flex under his skin. 

His eyes meet yours in the mirror. You’re caught. He lets go of the handles, feet hitting the floor, and approaches where you are on the bench. 

“You seem distracted,” he says, wrapping arms around you from behind. 

“Maybe a little,” you admit, craning your neck back to kiss him. 

“Me too… how could I get anything done with this in front of me? ‘He grabs at your ass and begins pulling the waistband of your shorts down. 

“JK…” you scold. 

“What? There’s no one here,” he says, bending you over on the bench. One knee on the pad below you. 

“I’m all sweaty,” you excuse.

“Good,” he replies, dragging his tongue from the base of your spine up your back until he can graze teeth along your neck. 

He pulls your shorts and panties down, letting them hang off your propped ankle. He lowers the waistband of his sweats and pushes inside without hesitation. You grab onto the pad of the bench below you. 

He wraps his hands around your hips with a bruising grip and pounds inside. Placing one of his legs up on the bench, getting impossibly deeper and you cry out.

He twists your hair into both his hands and pulls up, creating a deep arch in your back. He uses the grip to angle your face to the mirror where you can watch him plow mercilessly into you, watch the flesh of your ass bounce against his pelvis. 

“So pretty, baby,” he coos and releases your hair. You catch yourself on the bench and hold on for dear life as he moves faster, chasing his orgasm. 

Wetness gushes down the insides of your thighs and he comes, spilling inside and making even more a mess of you. 

Soft Sunday  700 words [an excerpt of this] - Missionary sex, vibrators

He drags his hands over your skin, getting at the flesh under your shirt. “Anything else?” he asks, lifting the fabric over your head. You get hands on each other's bodies, a night's sleep having been too long a time away. 

You gasp and giggle when he slides his fingers inside your panties, stroking between your lips. 

“Mmmm,” you sigh, adjusting to his touch. “No, I don’t think so, just the coffee,” you tease. 

He pulls his fingers away and leans up on his knees. “If you say so.”

“Jungkook,” you whine, tugging his body close to yours again. He chuckles and pulls panties around your ankles. 

“So needy,” you remark, teasing. 

“Me or you?” he asks rhetorically. He kisses down your chest and continues. “You think I need an excuse to fuck you into the mattress other than just wanting to?” 

He kisses your lips, then leans down to pull one of your nipples into his mouth. He swirls his tongue and sucks, dragging his teeth over the sensitive skin. He smirks as he watches the flesh of your other breast spill between his fingers, puckering his lips and blowing cold air on your skin. You gasp and he wraps his mouth around the other nipple for a while, switching the motions of his hands and lips as he ruts his bare cock against the sheets.

He removes his underwear and positions himself between your legs, lacing his fingers with yours again. He lines himself up and you both groan when he pushes inside. “Fuck, you’re so deep,” you whine as he circles his hips.

He takes the utterance as a challenge and buries himself even further. He leans up on his knees with hands gripped on your hips, pressing your body onto his cock and watching himself disappear inside effortlessly.

He wrings out your pussy like a sponge, everything so wet and slippery.

“Baby, you’re dripping,” he comments.

Draping your ankles over his shoulders, he forms a ‘V’ with his fingertips and spreads your lips. He spits, warm saliva spilling on your clit. He fills you with shallow thrusts and rubs circles, alternating both thumbs, his other fingers gripped around your hips. You cry out, feeling the heat build up in your belly.

He lodges fully inside when you come, pushing against that spot that makes you leak. 

“I love when you clench around me like this,” he says, collapsing on his hands again, bending you in half and losing his rhythm. “So fucking wet,” he moans, losing control. He pulses inside as you drag nails down his back. 

He barely catches his breath before speaking again. “You sound so pretty when you come,” he says, reaching to the bedside table for the vibrator. 

He stays pushed in and you feel his cock softening inside. “Let me hear it again?” He powers the toy on and goosebumps rise on your skin.

“Come again for me?” he affirms.

You drag your bottom lip between your teeth, contemplating the idea as he drags it over your thighs. 

“Softer,” you instruct, and he’s already done it. The threatening boom of the toy is lowered to a gentle buzz before you can even finish the sentence.  

“I know,” he says, prodding the tip of the toy where your bodies are connected, gathering fluid to push over your clit. “So sensitive,” he remarks. 

You prop yourself on your elbows to see what he sees. 

He holds it on your clit and your knees buckle. Using his free hand, he keeps them pried open and rubs the toy in circles on you with eyes glued to your face.

He gathers more of your mess on his free fingers and presses them to your lips. You suck and moan, feeling yourself close again.

“Ungh, Jungkook,” you cry out when your mouth is empty. “Please,” awed at how he’s put you in this desperate place again. 

“Gonna come again, baby?” he taunts, increasing the setting on the toy. He pushes his hips forward to stay buried inside as you tense around him again. 

You moan, legs shaking. He holds the toy in place until you come and shove his hands away in oversensitivity. 

He leans down and kisses your lips. You can feel the smile on his mouth, proud of what he’s done. He grunts when he finally falls out of you, standing up from the bed to grab a towel to clean himself.

[themultifandomgal]

From 2010- The First Half Of Tour

2013

Part 30

1st March- Cardiff

“Ow ow ow" I cry as Harry, Louis and Zayn are pouring their cool water bottles on my legs after I spilt my hot water, lemmon and honey on them. I sit in Harry’s baggy gym shorts so that 1 I’m in loose clothing and 2 I’m not sat in my underwear

"Bloody hell YN how did you manage that?" My dad says on the phone

"My throat feels funny and it's good for your voice. Stupidly I tried doing my makeup at the same time and knocked it over” I sniffle

“Oh YN. How bad is it?”

“Well her thighs are bright red. Almost look sunburnt” Zayn tells my dad

“It doesn’t help she spilt the drink on her jeans which made the hot water stay on her skin longer” Niall says

"Paramedics are here" Paul says walking in

"Hi YN, I'm Nelly and this is Amari. Let's take a look shall we?" Kneeling down Nelly takes a look “ok luckily it seems to just be a first degree burn. Let's apply some aloe Vera on the burn and then we can wrap it up in sterile dressing. No need to take you to hospital"

"Oh thank goodness" I hear dad on the phone

"Can I still go on stage?" I ask

"Really? You've burnt yourself YN you can't" Zayn says to me shocked

"But..?"

"If you sit down and take it easy then I don't see a problem" Amari tells me

"Are you sure you're up for it tonight?"

"Yes. I missed to many shows last tour" I reply to Paul

"Just go steady tonight YN"

"I will dad. Speak to you later" I end the phone call. We let the paramedics finish up before I have to get ready.

During the show I end up mostly sitting on a stool unless I need to move to a different part of the stage in that case I just go steady with one of the boys by my side.

22nd March- Birmingham

"I wish I could take you on tour with me” I say snuggling cookie who’s licking my face while I sit cross legged on the floor “I missed you so much”

“YN you need to put the dog down at some point, I need to get your hair done” Erin says laughing at me

“Can’t you do my hair from down here?” I joke

“If I could I would, now on to the chair” Erin pats the chair that’s in my dressing room. Groaning I get up and put Cookie down on the floor who then runs over to Emma who’s sat on my sofa

“Do you think she thinks your her owner not me?” I ask Emma sadly

“No chance dogs have a sense for this kinda thing. She knows you’re her mum and I’m the cool aunt” Emma replies

“I wish I could bring her with me”

“I know, but I’ll bring her to all of the shows I come to, promise” I give Emma a smile to say thank you while I let Erin get on with my hair.

Hello Birmingham!' I say waving to the arena "I still can't believe that this is where Liam and I would come to see concerts and here we are on our second tour!”

"What was your first concert YN?”

"I think it was the sugar babes" I reply to Liam “I remember my mum and dad taking me to an 80s concert when I was younger so maybe it was that” I shrug

“You do love your 80s songs” Zayn says smiling

“I do I do”

"Now the next song we're going to sing is one of our current favourites to perform. This is One Way Or Another" Louis shouts into his Microphone and the music starts

"One way or another I'm gonna find ya. I'm gonna get ya, get ya, get ya, get ya. One way, or another, I'm gonna win ya I'm gonna get ya, get ya, get ya, get ya" Harry sings putting his arm around my shoulders

"One way, or another, I'm gonna see ya. I'm gonna meet ya, meet ya, meet ya, meet ya. One day, maybe next week. I'm gonna meet ya, I'm gonna meet ya, I'll meet ya" I sing.

13th April- Sheffield

“Hello Sheffield!” Harry shouts into his microphone. The crowd all scream in reply “now today it’s someone’s birthday” the boys all then turn to look at me “and we want you to help us sing happy birthday”

“No!” I try to protest but it’s no use. The fans and boys all sing happy birthday as I see Emma bringing out a cake on stage

“Ok make a wish” Emma says, but I truly don’t know what to wish for other than Alex being here. I blow out the candles and everyone cheers. I give Emma a quick hug before she walks off stage.

14th June- Miami

“I’ve just found out that Jennifer Lawrence, Liam Hemsworth, Sam Claflin and Elizabeth Banks are here tonight” Erin says doing my hair

“How did you find that out?” I frown looking at Erin through the mirror. She digs through her back pocket then unlocks her phone. She does some scrolling then hands me her phone. On the screen is a photo of then stood in the pit chatting. The photo is captioned “guess J Law has forced the cast to see One Direction” 

“Isn’t Liam Hemsworth one of your celebrity crushes? Maybe you’ll be able to go on a date” Erin teases wiggling her eyebrows at me as she takes her phone back. I know she’s joking but part of feels like I can’t date. Sighing I close my eyes thinking of Alex

“I can’t… Alex….”

“Would want you to be happy. He’d want you to move on, maybe Liam isn’t the ‘one’ but maybe he can help you feel like you can date again”

“Your talking as if I know him and have met him Erin anyway he’s dating Miley Cyrus”

“Split up”

“I can’t keep up” I groan making Erin laugh.

By the end on the show I’m in my dressing room dripping with sweat when there’s a knock on the door. Thinking it’s just one of the boys I shout

“Come in!” not looking up I hear the door open

“Hi” that’s not one of the boys. I quickly turn around and see Jennifer Lawrence stood at my door smiling with Liam, Sam and Elizabeth behind her “I was told it was ok to come and see you. I’m sorry if we’ve disturbed you”

“No it’s ok hi” I walk over to them and hold my hand out “sorry I look a mess right now”

“Don’t be silly you look beautiful” Liam says making me blush a little. He’s a little older than I am, 23 I think he is while I’m 19

“We just wanted to come and say how good the show was. Your really talented” Elizabeth says smiling at me

“Thank you I’m glad you enjoyed the show. Have you met the others?”

“No”

“Then follow me” I say leading them towards Harry and Louis dressing room where I know all of the boys will be.

10th August- LA

“See you after the show” Liam says smiling at me before he pecks my cheek. I wasn’t planning on dating right now, but after Liam and I met we exchanged numbers then ended up going on a date. Things are just casual at the moment and we don’t plan on announcing anything anytime soon

“YN let’s go!” Harry shouts to me

“Yeah I’m coming” I shout back. I give Liam one more smile before walking towards Harry and Louis

“I can’t believe your not coming back home with us”

“Liam ask me on another date” I shrug

“Can’t say I like you both together” Harry mumbles but I clearly hear him

“Well it’s not your life H” I snap

“Don’t I know”

“What’s your problem Harry?” I step in front of him with my hands on my hips

“He’s goin to break y’heart”

“And how do you know that?” I frown

“I can jus’ tell alright” Harry then tries to brush past me

“No you don’t get to do that. Say shit like that then try and walk off”

“Woah what’s gotten into you two” Zayn says looking confused

“Liam”

“What did I do?” Liam asks just as confused

“Not you. Hemsworth. Come on we’re gonna be late” Harry walks off leaving me with the others

“He just wants what’s best for you” Zayn tries

“Harrys right we’re going to be late” I sigh.

[bearlytolerant]

mtas | fang x oc | ch 6 rating: T | AO3

Ch 6 Excerpt:

The door swung open, hinges crying out in need of oil. Filed away on a mental note card for later. Fang used the tip of a blade to strip away the thin green layer of an aloe leaf. Though the clinic didn’t technically open for another hour, he wasn’t one to refuse a patient.

“Hi birdie!”

“Hello, X.”

Recognizing Sage’s voice immediately, he finished separating the gel from the bottom layer of the skin and set the knife down while X chatted with her. Wash, rinse, patted hands dry with a towel and he wandered his way over to Sage. She eyed the rules on the wall, X perched on her shoulder. He shuffled up behind her.

“May I?”

She spun with a nod and he reached for her, placing her wrist in his palm, the thrum of her pulse steady and becoming familiar under his thumb. He eyed her bandages. She startled briefly under his touch as his fingers grazed gauze. Then relaxed as he tugged at the loose edge, unraveling it with methodical leisure.

“Vi insisted I come to you,” she said.

“She did the right thing,” he said. The gauze revealed angry and blistered skin with a dewy sheen. A second degree burn. “How long?”

“Thirty minutes ago? Maybe? I ran it under cool water for a while and wrapped it, assuming it would be fine. But Vi wouldn’t let me get back to work unless I came over here and I really need to get back to my customers. Not that I don’t trust Vi but it’s opening day and, well...” Her voice trailed off. “You can blame Vi for wasting your time.”

“Not—wasting time.” He circled back to the aloe he’d been taking apart and put some of the gel into a mortar, squishing it up into an applicable paste to spread on her burn. “Sit,” he directed, gesturing to the patient bed next to his work desk.

X flitted off, landing on the top of the room divider.

Sage followed his directions to sit, struggling a bit to get onto the bed and a brief moment of guilt plagued him for not assisting her. But Sage situated herself well enough out of determination and she most likely would’ve refused his help anyway, he was sure of it. Setting the mortar filled with gel next to her, he lifted her hand and met her gaze. Her eyes were like the green sea glass that would surface along the shore of the oasis, crystalline and enchanting. Sometimes he’d collect them and set them in a jar for X.

He couldn’t place why he was so drawn to her. Or why holding her hand made his heart flutter inconsistently and his palms clammy, while simultaneously being the most natural thing to do in the whole world. Almost as if he was always meant to hold her hand. Suddenly self conscious and she didn’t seem to notice, he glanced away. All his observations about his feelings were a secret of his own for now. Easy to dismiss. Not that any of it mattered. He’d witnessed her dancing with Owen earlier in the week and that seemed to make her happy. Owen was kind and good. He could keep her happy. Again, not that it mattered.

“Grabbed the cast iron handle without a mitt,” she explained. “In case you wondered what happened.”

He did wonder and that did matter.

[kowaindar0u]

//

tried to draw some but it's nOT WORKINNNGGG tonight so some vamp-au things I'm thinking about

- Soooo cause Yuichi has to sleep during the day and work at night, and Saseki has classes, that usually leaves I think just the evenings, but... he wants to spend more time with him if he can so... maybe during the day, when he doesn't have class Saseki reads on the couch while Yuichi lays over his lap and sleeps lol. And honestly Yuichi can probably sleep heavily enough that he could just use him as a table, put a laptop or sketchbook on him and work away askdjsjd. And moving him to get up for a snack or the bathroom wouldn't bother him much either 💀

- Yuichi often re-realizes that like... he has TWO boyfriends and never stops being floored by that fact lol

- he still hates going grocery shopping but he will do it bc it's not as bad if he can go in the middle of the night lol. also I mean he can probably pick up a good amount of stuff at his work anyway !

- I know Rai and I already talked about Yuichi getting hyperfocused counting pills but it's still so funny to me imagining him doing that cause I feel like it's one thing he really could not be shaken out of asksjdjdj like ... if they're gonna give him that task they gotta know he's not gonna do anything else in the meantime but he will do it so quickly and accurately lol

- nooooo i just imagined Yuichi misjudging the time it takes to get home vs the time the sun rises too much and coming home in a panic and with burns on his skin ;-; it heals fairly quickly cause vampire but saseki maybe still puts some aloe on it or something to help soothe it and comfort him a lil ? Especially cause the sun is one of the few thing he knows for sure can and will kill him lol

- at some point when yuichi finally figures out how to go bat form and saseki can just put him in his pocket or on his head and carry him around ... HOW FCKING CUTE I love bats especially the itty bitty ones I cry ...saseki living tje dream lol

- usually he sleeps in his closet if he's by himself for the day cause... darkest place and closest thing to a coffin he's got lol ... but maybe sometimes he'll pull in a pillow or two from their bed to hug or pull the curtains shut and curl up in the middle of that big ol bed

- sometimes he might just pick saseki up for no reason other than because he can hold him like that 🥺

- sometimes he still tries to eat lil bits of human food even tho he knows he'll pay for it not much later lol he just can't resist ;-;

Buy a stupid candy bar from a vending machine on his way home from work and eats it. Then goes and tosses his cookies in a bush 💀

"worth it..."

-

PS @zantedeschia-praesul I just realized I've been drawing Sase with a white shirt and black vest omg but in ur pics it's the other way around !! my apologies lol asksjdj idk why my brain totally flipped that

[mrultra100]

After watching Roize Rasen’s most recent video about what sorts of possible new Megas, regional forms, and normal evolutions for Pokemon we could get in PLZA, I wanna try and do a quick thought exercise on what the possible new Megas could be.

Keep in mind, I’m following a similar set of limits and rules like what Roize did in his video, so there’s gonna be some explaining to do on which Pokemon I think/hope get Megas.

- The Kalos starters; It should be pretty obvious that the original starter trio from X and Y could get something. Especially if neither the Kanto and/or Hoenn starters don’t show up in the game. Aside from Ash-Greninja being removed for quite some time, it still has Battle Bond as a possible ability, even during the early days of SV’s release. Plus, Chesnaught and Delphox both need something to keep up with the ninja frog after the latter took off in popularity

- Xerneas and Yveltal; Similar to the starters, the main two legendaries of X and Y are due to get something for this game. If Dialga and Palkia can finally get something of their own via their Origin forms similar to Giratina, why can the Life and Death duo? This could go in two different directions; they either get proper Megas, or they could do something like Primal Groudon/Kyorge and Origin Form Dialga/Palkia, and have forms that are like Megas, but are their own thing. Either option works

- A few more Kalos Pokemon; Something that I always found odd is that aside from Diancie of all Pokemon, none of the species introduced in Kalos got Megas of their own. While later generations have plenty of their respective ‘Mons join in their respective battle gimmicks, we really never saw a Mega-Evolved Kalos Pokemon. Maybe Z-A could be a good way to fix that. Following the rules that Roize pointed out in his video (things like not include Pokemon that are either in pairs that could have a member get left out if the other got a Mega, have gender or size differences that could make the process hard to code in, have multiple forms already like Furfrou and Vivilion, part of multi-generational groups like Dedenne and Sylveon (the former being a Pika-clone and the latter being an Eeveelution), already got something recently (Hisuian Avalugg and Goodra say hi), and making sure the Megas are given out to Pokemon that aren’t really useful in battle), quite a lot of Kalos’ Dex is gonna be cut out, leaving out a few species to pick from. If the amount of Megas is only gonna be something like 20 to give time and space to the other new additions like regional forms and new evolutions to older Pokemon, along with already existing Pokemon and Megas from the original X and Y games, we have 5 slots to work with, given how I imagine that maybe half of the new Megas would be for Kalos species (along with how the starters and legendaries already make up that first quarter). My personal picks would include Noivern, Heliolisk, Barbaracle, Hawlucha, and Malamar

- Flygon; You all knew that this guy would be here, let’s not kid ourselves. Maybe after more than 10 years, Gamefreak could finally come up with a design for a Mega Flygon that they’re happy with. This entire game could be a good chance for some Pokemon that missed out on getting a Mega back in Gen 6 to finally get that second chance, Flygon especially. Make it the Bug/Dragon combo that people have been wanting for years

- Jynx; Yes, for those who are not in the know, Jynx may seem like a weird choice. However, similar to Flygon, Jynx was originally planned to get a Mega in X and Y, but was cut. Additionally, the whole thing of a strange cry similar to Jynx’s own being found in the data of Pokémon HOME having a similar reverb heard in the cries of every single Mega-Evolved Pokemon adds fuel to the fire

- Milotic; If the possible new Megas fit in with the culture of Kalos in a similar way to how new Pokemon and forms fit in with the cultures of the respective regions they were introduced in, Milotic would be a perfect fit. Along with that, it’s a very popular Pokemon that people have been wanting to see get a Mega for years now, and it would be a good foil to Mega Gyarados, given how both lines are seen as counterparts of each other

- Revavroom: If we’re gonna pick any Pokemon from recent gens to get a Mega, Revavroom would check that box very well, along with getting a much-needed buff. The poor thing needs a better ability to deal with its 4-times weakness to Ground types. Something like Levitate could work, as the dang thing is already floating up in the air for some reason. Plus, we could have a good opportunity to make this weird and delightfully goofy Pokemon even MORE so. Plenty of the existing Megas build off of the original designs to make their own designs extremely wild and creative, so the Rat Fink-looking car monster would be a very perfect candidate

- Parasect; Another weird candidate, the Paras line is one of the few remaining Pokemon from Gen 1 to not get anything. Perhaps that could finally be fixed with a Mega, and there’s a route for its design that I can easily see it going in; have it be a Ghost/Grass type that have the mushroom assimilate the dead bug into its body, resulting in a truly twisted-looking abomination of a Mega.

- Mimikyu; As much as I wanna avoid giving Megas to Pokemon who are already powerful juggernauts, I can definitely see Gamefreak giving one to Mimikyu, due to how insanely popular it is. While I don’t have much input on which the stats or ability could be, I can easily imagine maybe even a tiny glimpse of Mimikyu’s true appearance factoring into the design in some way

- Sandaconda; I’m aware that Sandaconda already has a Gigantamax form, but the Kanto starters and Gengar do as well, and they also have Megas too, so needless to say, the sand snake is fair game. Sandaconda isn’t that bad, but I feel it could use a Mega to make it relevant some more. The best possible route I can see this guy going is probably Ground/Dark with a Titanoboa-like design. Let this guy keep Sand Spit as its ability. A few Megas already have abilities that their original counterpart normally have, so this wouldn’t be anything new

- Vikavolt; As much as I don’t wanna add in personal favorites to this list, Vikavolt actually has a few things that could work in its favor in terms of getting a Mega; Stag beetles can be found in France, it most certainly needs some sort of buff to its Speed, and it could be a good pick for a Pokemon to add in your team early on before giving it its Mega Stone. I’m split on its ability, however; should I let it keep Levitate to not be affected by Ground types? Or should I give it Speed Boot to make it even more faster, with the added caveat of making it a glass cannon? That’s something that the fans who are into stats and Abilites would have to step in for

- Golurk; Going back to what I said earlier about this game being a second chance for certain Pokemon getting a Mega, Golurk is another example. Plus, given that more and more Gen 5 Pokemon have been getting new regional forms and the like in the last few games, I say it’s high time for Golurk to join in. Audino had its fun as the only Gen 5 Mega after all these years. Not only is Golurk one of the most popular Gen 5 ‘mons, it also has a few things that could lend it towards getting a Mega; either letting it keep its original typing or replace Ground with Steel, make it a more heavy hitter with powerful defenses, having Iron Fist as its ability (this guy can learn 7 punching moves, so it works), and having its design include more of the energy inside of its body to leak out, making it a bit more dangerous to be around for long periods of time (side-note; I really hope this game addresses how potentially damaging the transformations are to not only the Pokemon themselves, but also anyone around them, as stated by the Alola Dex entires on them)

- Scovillain; While not the most thought-of pick for a Paldean species to Mega Evolve, Scovillain has a few points in its favor; Creative typing that could translate to a memorable design, a buff to mostly its Special Attack, and something like Solar Power being a perfect fit due to its types benefiting from the sun.

Could I be wrong about most of these predictions? Maybe, but it was still fun to speculate on what new Mega s we could see in PLZA. While I think were still not gonna hear any updates for a while (while I’m cool with, these damn games need more development time), perhaps we could get a sneak peek during a possible Pokemon Presents or something. We’ll have to wait and see

[zmediaoutlet]

happy wincest wednesday! a cheery one: sam and dean have a day off and finally decide to get some sand between their toes! how do you imagine their day at the beach goes? do they have fun?

hello, happy wincest wednesday (whatever day it ends up being) :)

Sand between their tooooooooooes! To be honest this is something that I think Dean likes the idea of in concept more than in fact, haha. I want them to go to an unusual beach -- not LA or Florida but like -- North Carolina, or those little islands off the coast of Georgia, or Galveston, ideally when no hurricanes are in the forecast. And tbh I can't really imagine them making the trip *just* to make the trip -- they do always have work, and they actually do like to work, so while they'll take some lil trips here and there I do like the idea of it being post-job. So Sam's got two splinted fingers and stitches on his shoulder, and Dean's got bruised ribs and a split in his lip, and they're in -- sure, why not, Texas, and they're only an hour from the coast, and Dean's like, fuck it. We time.

They obviously don't own swimming trunks. (Dean does own lil cute cut-off shorts, ahem.) But they park down by the promenade -- it's the furthest edge of the season, so it's not so crowded -- and they walk up and down, and Dean gets great and honest entertainment out of the guy who does caricatures (makes a comment about getting him to do Sam, all hair like cousin IT, and Sam rolls his eyes) -- and they get funnel cake, and then Dean eats the other half of Sam's funnel cake -- and then there is the beach, washing along, bright. They don't actually buy swimming trunks but Dean gets one of those huge towels and two cheap pairs of sunglasses and they go and sit out on the warm sand, and they take off their boots and roll up their jeans and Sam walks out to where the surf foams up, and experiences that destabilizing moment where the ocean carries the ground away from underneath your feet. Dean asks if he wants to build a castle like the other kids and Sam smiles at him, and Dean lays back on the towel with his hands behind his head, listening to the waves. Sam wishes he'd brought a book. Dean calls him a nerd.

They don't stay long -- an hour, maybe, with Dean dozing and Sam sitting with his arms around his knees, watching the water -- and then Dean sits up and yawns, and wants a beer, and they leave the towel hung over one of the rails for anyone who wants it to pick up and take, and lean on each other to get their boots back on and roll their jeans back down, and then they wander to one of the bars one street back from the beachfront to get a beer that won't cost fifteen bucks and that's when Sam notices that Dean's going to get an epic, peeling, terrible sunburn. Dean throws a fry at him for laughing. They go back out to the fading afternoon and watch a family with little kids squabbling and over-tired try to pack themselves back into a station wagon, getting sand everywhere, and when they get back to their own car Dean pauses for a minute, turned toward the sea, listening past the traffic sounds and the clatter and shrieks from the rides at the park and those little kids crying. Sam waits with him, listening too. Then he says, "Good?" and Dean blinks, and looks across the top of the car, and he says, "Would've been better with you in one of them seashell bras," and Sam rolls his eyes, and they get in the car, and later at the motel Sam gives Dean the aloe cream that he bought when Dean wasn't paying enough attention to protest that he wouldn't need it.

Pretty good day.

[pokenimagines]

SFW- Jessie, literally anything fluffy (maybe something with the beach in alola 👀) shes just,, so pretty and I desperately need more content with her

Oh boy, you’re discussing one of my childhood crushes here. I’m doing semi-romantic but can be taken as platonic since Jessie and James have been 16 for the past like 20 years. Jessie was definitely a part of my gay awakening though, ngl.

Discord (16+) - Request Information 

SFW Jessie: Ocean Friends

“You know we’re not here to vacation.” You remind your companion who was currently sunbathing in the beautiful Alola sun. Jessie turned to you with a pout on her lips, wondering why you were trying to ruin her fun before it began.

“Oh hush, we might as well enjoy this mission while we can. Besides, that pikachu isn’t going anywhere and James and Meowth will keep them occupied.” Jessie said as she put her sunglasses back down and relaxed back into her beach chair.

You had accidentally gotten involved in team rocket’s shenanigans when Jessie had proclaimed anyone would make a better teammate than James or Meowth. So she dragged you into it, her amazing partner in crime when she wasn’t running amok with team rocket.

“Okay, fine you win.” You always easily gave into her. She might’ve had a bratty attitude but she was really a sweetheart and you couldn’t help but give into her. Besides, relaxing on the beach wouldn’t be too bad.

You sighed and sat down on the beach chair next to her, letting the warm sun beat down on you. It was almost lulling you to sleep but you knew it would be a very bad idea to do so. You felt a lump on your chest as Mimikyu crawled up and poked your face. You batted the spectral hand away as you sat up with a yawn. You went and pet Mimikyu on the head and turned to Jessie.

“Wanna get in the water, I’m going to fall asleep here.” You said, rubbing the sleep from your eyes.

“I guess we could for a while, but I still need to work on my tan.” Jessie said and you held back the smile. She was turning far more red than getting tan and you knew you’d be helping apply aloe later on for the burns.

The two of you wadded through the shallows of the ocean until you were waist deep in the water. That’s when Jessie decided it was the perfect opportunity to splash you with some water. You blinked out the salty water as you processed before laughing and splashing her back.

“How dare you!” She shouted while laughing as the two of you continued to splash around in the water like a couple of kids. By the time you two were absolutely drenched, you felt a bit cooler.

“Eep!” You heard Jessie screech out and you immediately stopped and walked closer.

“Hey, are you okay?” You asked, placing a hand on her shoulder. Jessie nodded as she turned towards you.

“S-something just touched me.” She exclaimed and you let out a sigh.

“It was probably a remoraid. We are in the ocean after al-.” Before you could finish the sentence you felt something go by your legs as well. You also let out a screech and all but jumped into Jessie’s arms as you tried to get away.

“I told you!” Jessie said and you nodded. You looked into the water and around you and to your surprise you saw a mantyke swimming about.

“Oh my goodness it’s so cute!” You said as you bent on the water and let the Pokémon rub go against your hand. You laughed at the slimy texture ran across you and Jessie decided to join and pet it as well.

“Do you think it belongs to anyone?” Jessie asked, her eyes sparkling with amusement.

“I don’t know, I don’t see any other trainers around.” You said, searching back and forth. Really the beach wasn’t crowded at all and the two of you had chosen a specifically secluded area to hang out in.

“Maybe I should catch it, huh cutie? Wouldn’t you love to join my team?” Jessie cooed as the mantyke let out a happy little cry. Jessie clearly took that as a yes and told you to watch it while she went to shore and got a poke ball.

You smiled and walked to the shallows with the little Pokémon following on your ankles. You sat down once you knew it was fine and the water didn’t go past your neck. The mantyke came over and rested on your lap.

You could see Jessie running back with a dive ball in hand. She was smiling brighter than before as she got closer and held the ball out, “Okay little one, come on in.” She said as the Pokémon clicked the pokeball.

The red light flashed and the mantyke was easily caught. Jessie almost immediately released it from its confines so you could continue bonding.

“Any plans for the name?” You asked Jessie and she bummed as the mantyke swam around her now sitting form.

“Not right now, but maybe I’ll figure a name out later.” She mused and you nodded.

“Hey…maybe we could stay at the ocean for a bit more. I doubt James or Meowth will actually be able to get pikachu anytime soon.” You said but as soon as you finished the sentence you saw to familiar figures on the shore. Both looking electrocuted and you two laughed. Ya, they wouldn’t be making much progress.

[azols]

My first one, so please be gentle. I'm actually posting this drunk, can there be any mistakes? Yes, so let me know if you find any, okay?

She is not angst, but ????? But maybe you who are reading it will find it a little boring, it's not very descriptive and gets to the point. There is nothing explicit.

1,048 words

And the gif is not mine, I found it on Pinterest.

You don’t know exactly when you met Wanda, maybe she was always in your life, or maybe she just appeared like magic.

But everything about the Sokovian girl was interesting to you, from stories about her country to childhood dreams she had, Wanda was always a great mystery.

Her twin brother Pietro liked to call her the Red Queen, implying that the girl was too spoiled, which of course made the girl very angry.

You also liked Pietro, the fast and playful boy who teased you whenever you won at the video game, but of course, you didn’t like Pietro as much as you liked Wanda.

You became inseparable in your childhood and every day you discovered more and more new things about the girl.

Until the beginning of high school, when you and Wanda had your first kiss and then a light went on in your head, making you finally realize why you liked the girl so much.

A few weeks later you declared yourself to Wanda, and lucky for you, she felt the same way.

Wanda was your first kiss, your first time, your first love, and your first broken heart.

At the end of freshman year, Wanda joined the cheerleading squad, and then everything changed.

The girl of your dreams had changed, or maybe she was still the same Wanda, only you were no longer so interesting.

Well, you had changed too, you had become a troublemaker, detentions and running away from class were your specialty.

At the beginning of the vacations you split up, and the news was that she had given you the boot, which was true but very bad for your reputation.

Soon after that she got into a relationship with Jarvis Stark, or Vision for short.

The golden boy, younger brother of Tony Stark, high school basketball star and number one in his class, rich and destined to run the family business with iron hand alongside his brother.

The two were named after a royal couple, but you knew the truth.

When you heard the news you rushed to the Maximoff house and snuck into Wanda’s room, something that was already almost natural for you.

“ What are you doing here?” she didn’t even have to look back to know you were there.

“ Is it true?” The question came out quickly almost desperately, and you didn’t want to sound desperate.

Wanda gave a smile that you knew well, she knew you well enough to know that you would come to her as soon as the news got to you.

“ What is true?” Her voice still gave you chills.

“You’re dating that guy”

“Vision is a nice guy, he treats me well” You didn’t need to hear any more, walking out of there right away.

You knew it.

The second week of school she called you.

She said she couldn’t stop thinking about you and that she missed you a lot.

You went to see her late at night.

You never really talked.

Her skin was too soft, your fingers glided across her milky skin.

Her smell was intoxicating and made you dizzy.

Her lips... They were intoxicating, they made you lose your mind.

You jumped through her window early in the morning and swore to yourself that it would never happen again.

By the third week of school, the hallways were a mess, everyone wanted to see the golden boy with his broken heart.

Wanda had dumped him in front of everyone, leaving the boy inconsolable.

He was crying while all his friends were around him.

You felt a little sorry for him, you had been through the same situation.

Of course, not the public humiliation, but the feeling of being left, kicked and cheated.

You went to your class without looking back.

After that Wanda got a new title, The Heartbreaking Queen.

She broke a good part of the hearts of the boys and girls of the college.

Driving several people crazy along the way, everyone speculated who would make the cold queen’s heart melt.

You meet countless times after this.

You liked to fool yourself that this was the time she would finally choose you.

But Wanda would call you just to spend the night, just to play.

You couldn’t understand how the girl who called you the love of her life could have turned out to be such a cold-hearted bitch.

You were in the cafeteria when Steve Rogers, captain of the football team, came screaming for Wanda.

He was red and seemed to foam with rage, frightening anyone in the room.

Wanda however was unfazed.

Pietro stood up to protect his sister in case something happened, but Steve was pulled away screaming by his teammates.

Later that day you found out that Wanda had broken up with a boy.

Wait finished? Were they a thing?

A day later Wanda called you, you tried to resist, but....

Who are you kidding?

You went, determined to end that relationship.

Well, you never got to talk about it.

Wanda continued to destroy hearts, the third important person or the athletic team was Natasha Romanoff, the fight club leader punched away at the cabinet’s wondering how she could have been so stupid to fall into the spider’s web.

You wondered the same thing sometimes.

You went on your way out of the school, feeling sick and not wanting to attend any more classes, you went home.

Unable to think, unable to reason, and feeling used, you skipped that whole week.

Ignoring all of Wanda’s messages and calls, you spent the week inside your room reflecting.

You knew it, so did she.

Two weeks later, you showed up in Wanda’s room.

“Are you finally going to stop acting like a child?” She asked.

“You know, you used to call me the love of your life, used to ask me to stay. “

“When was all that declined Wanda?” The question made her uncomfortable, you could tell.

“I guess we weren’t made to fit in, we grow and change” She shrugged.

“ I don’t want to be one of your games anymore, I’m tired of being the Queen’s pawn” You turned around about to leave.

“You know... Could you stay for the day?” she let the question slip in a whisper.

You’ve made your decision.

[keilemlucent]

half-day

hawks | takami keigo x reader 

word count: ~3k

absence helps the heart grow wounds 

warnings: reader takes medication, angst, sad uwu 

beta’ed: @hawnks

a/n: so in the middle of all the horny, here’s some angsty, SFW, hurt/comfort i wrote as a vent. enjoy 💗

...

“Did you take your meds yet?”

You paused on the edge of the bed, rubbing at your eyes with the inside of your wrist.

“No, I forgot. Sorry.”

You kicked yourself for how weak your voice came out.

Keigo’s wings drooped, though you could only tell by the wide shadow they cast on the wall of your shared bedroom.

It was late, far too late for you to be awake, but you’d forced yourself to stay lucid and somewhat lively to wait for Keigo to arrive home after patrol. It wasn’t something you did often, as he so often was kept past his scheduled hours.

This night was no different.

He’d come through the balcony door in the early hours of the morning, sighing harshly and kicking off his boots with a huff before even noticing you blinking at him from the couch.

And with a single look, his heart sank.

Keigo wasn’t an idiot.

You looked so tired.

Your eyes were shadowed, punched with sleepless bags and the corners of your pretty lips pulled down and taut. You worried your hands, picking at your cuticles and fingernails.

You mustered up a smile, and fuck, if it wasn’t one of the weakest things he’d seen in a long time.

He’d been quick to whisk the two of you off to bed after that. A short shower later, he slung on some sweats and draped a towel over his shoulders. He tried to keep his look casual, despite his own exhaustion, aches and anxiety.

Because you looked shitty.  

Not that you ever looked bad, Keigo had seen you in any number of states. Fucked up, fucked out, bright and shining like the sun itself and tear-streaked—

But none hurt in the same way or as much as he’d been seeing you lately.

When he crept into the bedroom, your gaze was vacant, trained on the floor as you picked at a hangnail on your thumb.

So he asked about your meds, just probing, seeing where you were at.

Truthfully, Keigo’s work had been keeping him from home, though he wasn’t actively avoiding you like this.

But, he did have the undeniable knowledge that his absence was hurting you.

Guilt.

“You don’t need to be sorry, dove,” Keigo slipped next to you on the sheets, letting his wings stretch out and back over the thrown back covers. “Do you want some fresh water?”

You shook your head, silent, as you grabbed your pill organizer from your nightstand.

Keigo eyed the old glass of water, frowning. He could practically see the dust settling on the surface of the stale liquid.

“Are you sure—”

“It’s fine, Kei’, let’s just go to bed,” Your voice was so hollow, half-broken and swallowed up by the gulp of water you took down with your meds.

Keigo managed to keep a grin on his face, but it was hard.

He couldn’t restrain himself from taking your cheeks in his hands, worrying your undereyes with his thumbs the moment you set the murky glass down.

You didn’t say anything, just sagged into his grip, brow creasing.

There was a tension in the air, but nothing that could be cut or the kind that could easily immolate. This was the kind of sluggish frustration that pulled on your muscles and ligaments like gummy syrup.

It dragged the two of you down.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” You spoke without thinking, your hands inching towards his knees.

Why was he?

“Lots of reasons, the first being that I love you,” Keigo reminded you, softly, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

It was all the touch you needed to fall into his shoulders, pressing your face into the wet towel around his neck.

It would’ve been cumbersome, a deterrent from fully touching him, but in that moment, it soaked up the budding tears at the corners of your eyes.

He didn’t need to know how poorly you were doing.

Why did his little affections send you spiraling?

Why did each of his touches feel like aloe to a wound that was deep and tarry, impossibly endless and nothing that could be tackled in a night?

Why did it hurt so good?

“I don’t want to hear the others,” you told him, squeezing his covered knee. “I think I know. I’m sad, not dumb.”

Your quip earned you a half-hearted chuckle, Keigo smoothing a hand up and down your spine.

“Can you lay with me?”

You gave a wordless answer, slipping into the sheets with him while feebly rubbing at your eyes.

Keigo sends a few feathers to click off the bedside lamps, keeping on a small light atop the dresser, the kind that throws pinpricks of faux stars onto the ceiling in oscillating little rings.

It was a false comfort, but you’d both take it.

You laid facing each other, naked in mind and body by then.

With your cheek squished into your pillow, it was even easier to see the tear tracks and worry that you carried.

Keigo had to be careful, he knew he had to, if he pushed you too hard for your words or feelings, you could just lockup, deflect and drift off into fitless sleep yet again.

You didn’t make him reach for too long, didn’t let him worry himself for very long, before you spoke up, weakly, and interrupted his thoughts.

“We’re okay, right, Kei’?”

The question sent splinters of worry into the tender flesh of his heart.

Keigo responded instantly, dragging your body into his as his feathers twitched and ruffled, “Yes, yes, we’re completely okay, better than, I love— “

“I know,” You pressed your face into his sternum, locking an arm over his lower back. “I know you love me.”

You still sounded so empty.

Keigo didn’t know what to do, fuck, he was grasping for even what to say.

“How can I make it better?”

He had to try, right?

Maybe that was the reason why he’d been rushing off so often and for so long lately, without rest, no matter how he felt.

He was a hero, his job was to make things better. He wanted to fix things, mend and stitch the ills and pains of others.

Yet, the person closest to him was splitting at the seams.

Work had been busy, busier than normal, and it just gave him the excuse to avoid his personal problems, like any sane, normal person.

Maybe, he was justified in shoving off the weight of everything, maybe, but only because every time he asked how he could help, you’d just say—

“You can’t, Kei’. It’s okay.”

Just like you did then.

Except, in the past, your voice would just echo from your lips as you gave him a sad smile.

This time?

Your voice broke and your breath hitched as you tried to tug him closer.

He can feel your tears wet his chest.

You tried to fight for so long.

You still were, notably. Against the loneliness and against the odds of your odd relationship, you smiled and mused your way through the struggles of it. You loved Keigo, and the burdens were bearable. They were never from him, they were from the fucked circumstances of his employment and the conditions around it.

You had a deep, heartfelt understanding of this. It was communicated about since the beginning of your partnership, and you had learned, quite well, how to deal with Keigo’s job as a hero. You’d peace with it, mostly.

A lot of the time, contending with this reality was hardly difficult.

But, it was distinctly entirely unmanageable during times when your own mental health started to spiral downward.

So, here you were, beginning to weep into your partner’s chest over all of the weight that was bearing over your mind.

Each moment, your mind sparked with a new poison, until one slipped out amid your muffled tears.

“I can’t even fix m-me— “

You snapped.

And you damn near shrieked into his chest.

Keigo hadn’t seen you do this poorly in a long time.

It hurt, all of it did, but like fuck he was going to push off the responsibility any longer. You’d never admit it, but his absence had to be doing some damage.

“You don’t need to,” Keigo promised, shifting to straddle your hips.

Maybe, on a different night, things would’ve gone a different direction.

Not that night though.

Keigo pressed his weight over your chest, tucking your face into his neck as his feathers settled up and over the two of you. A scarlet shield that read black in the witching hour of the evening.

You didn’t really notice, but you could feel Keigo’s breath and body over the top of yours. He was like some sort of barrier towards the outside world and god did you need it.

You tried to reply, but your words came out as blubberings, broken by tears and ragged breath as you buried yourself into Keigo.

Despite the fact that Keigo was over you, it was the unseen, soul-crushing weight of you that bore down on him.

How did you let it get this bad?

You choked on another sob, your thighs squeezing around his hips.

Your nails raked down his back, an accident borne from your own frustration. Keigo didn’t react to the pain, even when it tread so close to the sensitive roots of his wings. He could bear it— if you had to, he would as well.

This is the least he could do, right?

Be there, though he definitely should’ve been there sooner.

He nuzzled his nose into your temple, brushing his lips over the sweat and tears gathering.

“Cry, dove, I’ve got you now.”

And god, did you.

You sputtered and wept against him, whatever hollow sheen you’d been carrying falling away to a flood of pent up pain.

Keigo had his own mess of emotions about being complicit in letting you get to this point, and what that said about him as a partner, but he swallowed those feelings down to the pit of his stomach and busied himself with comforting you.

He wiped the tears from your cheeks, kissing away the stray ones that dripped down to your jaw and neck. His fingers and nails scratched and massaged your scalp, part of him prayed that the little circles he drew would pull some of the tension and stress from inside your skull, but that was just fantasy.

Ultimately, the only thing to do was nothing, and that was probably why Keigo avoided it for so long.

Powerlessness was not something he was used to, nor did he want to become familiar with it. He was the number two hero in the nation, for fuck’s sake. The last thing he ever felt was helpless, sans a few choice feelings about his arrangements with the Commission.

But with you?

He felt so useless in moments like these.  

But, that was the nature of these things, and he knew this, the two of you had been over that, but that didn’t mean he didn’t feel himself getting choked up.

And as much as he wanted to suppress his own feelings, he just fucking couldn’t.

And everything spilt over at once, as things tend to.

Keigo scooped you up, pressing your front to his, pressing your cheek into his own, a few of his own tear tracks forming.

The feeling of Keigo’s own sadness tugged you from your own panic.

You swallowed thickly, your dry tongue sticking in your mouth as you tried to speak coherently.

“H-hey, Kei’?” You asked, trying to rub away at his tears. “C-could you take a h-alf day tomorrow? You don’t need to, but— “

Keigo shushed you with a kiss, sagging over top of you a moment later.

“Yeah, y-eah, of course,” Quietly, Keigo added, muffled into the crook of your shoulder. “You shouldn’t have to ask.”

“It’s okay, but it’s how i-it is,” Your voice shook as you coaxed Keigo to meet your gaze.

And oh, to bear souls with another is quite an intimate thing, don’t you think?

Especially when there was so much raw between the two of you, things that weren’t quite right, and things that hurt a bit too much.

Yet, at the same time, as you searched Keigo’s pretty ambers, more vibrant next to his reddened eye whites, you held nothing against him. There was both implicit and explicit understanding swimming in the air between you.

The unavoidable harshness of your arrangement with the truth that both of you cared so much, even if you didn’t know how to chew of your chunks of reality. It was comforting, seeing Keigo give you a broken little smile as you rubbed his tears away, and he yours.

“I love you,” Keigo's wings fluttered with his words. “I’m sorry for not being here like I should’ve been.”

“It’s okay,” It was, mostly. “I’m sorry for pushing you away.”

You both needed to be better, but being ‘better’ was a process in and of itself.

Carefully, you rose, your hands finding Keigo’s bare hips while his helped prop up your back.

You swallowed around your fat tongue, grimacing and reaching for the stale glass of water.

Just before you could grab it, Keigo reached past you, stopping your hand from closing around it.

“Let’s start small,” Keigo gave you a weak smile. “Can I grab you some fresh water?”

You nodded, the warmth and care of the gesture immediately relaxing you. Quirking a brow, you managed a small grin, “Yes, thank you.”

And you let him.

And all that you’d been carrying with you didn’t dissolve, but it maybe felt lighter.

...

You spent the rest of the night twisted up in each other.

Truthfully, Keigo felt greedy. He’d been too absent and that had made him needy for you and your touch, even if it was just idle and soft.

He craved you in other ways, but you were more than enough.

By the sun rose came, he was hardly sated, but he had calls to make and things to arrange.

...

The next morning, you awoke alone, though the sheets were warm.

A few feathers laid around you, snuggling up to your cheeks and under the covers, fluttering every so often against your bare skin.

As you drew back to lucidity, you could hear Keigo’s muffled voice from the kitchen.

Your body ached, but in a necessary way. It reminded you of the night prior, along with your scratchy eyes and raw throat.

You threw on one of his shirts and padded towards his voice.

Despite your state, and the rawness of the air, Keigo still managed to stun you speechless, as he so often did.

He stood in the kitchen, hip popped against the counter with a pair of sweats hanging dangerously low on his hips. His phone was tucked between his shoulder and ear as he spoke low, hushed and hurried, his hands and a handful of feathers helping prepare two steaming mugs of coffee.

You didn’t eavesdrop, only approaching when Keigo breathed a sigh of relief and the phone was set down on the counter.

Somehow, you were able to surprise him.

Your arms looped around his waist from behind, circling and squeezing.

“I’m guessing you’ve gotta run?” You mumbled into his spine with a weak laugh. “I should say fly, huh?”

Keigo clicked his tongue, turning to drape his arms over your shoulders, “Nope, neither, dove. Two days.”

“… Two days?” You scrunch your brow, though Keigo was quick to smooth out the wrinkles with a quick kiss.

“Two days off a month, barring emergencies, not counting today. Fully off and all yours. And that’s not counting today,” Keigo’s smile warmed his voice. “Sound good?”

Your scrambled psyche rushed to catch up with the revelation that ‘holy fuck, Keigo actually had real, scheduled time off.’

“I can see how hard you’re thinking, chickpea,” Keigo tsked, somehow wrangling you onto the counter top, slotting himself between your parted thighs. “I’ve got this one, okay? I want to be around more.”

You bit your lip, gaze pointed towards the ground.

“For me or for you?”

“Why can’t it be both?”

You swallowed your tongue, still frowning.

It easily could.

Keigo needed the rest, even if he had trouble admitting it. As much as he claimed to be lazy, he was more so a workaholic due to his background. It was difficult for him to ever stop working for any considerable length of time.

Perhaps it wasn’t in his nature, just his training.

All the same, the idea of having Keigo around and mostly to yourself for a few days a month seemed goddamn fantastic.

“... Can it?”

Keigo softened visibly, rubbing at your side, just below the bottom hem of your sleep shirt. Maybe, he was a bit sheepish in those moments, but he’d had to be pretty stern making the calls he had that morning.

Speaking to the right people to allow him to get that time off had been a pain, but seeing the slow way you were deflating and melting into his arms made it worth it.

Not to mention he needed some lazy days as well.

“Of course it can,” Keigo gave a soft little smile. “Both of us getting a bit of extra rest, don’t you think?”

You flickered your gaze to his, where the gooeyness of his amber eyes caught and held you.

A part of you, one that had been particularly loud lately, screamed to ask for more reassurance. That in some way, Keigo was lying and you had to know.

But, with a deep breath, and a press of your forehead to his, you relaxed a bit.

Not enough, but it was a sure start.

“Alright, but only if you promise to let me help you relax too, and that includes today,” You silenced any retort he might have with a gentle kiss.

The moment you tried to pull away, Keigo’s hand was on the back of your neck, holding you steady and close.

“I dunno dove, it is my half-day,” He hummed with a raise of his eyebrows, the dark circles under his eyes hardly detracting from how luminous he so constantly was, “I think I’ll do whatever I’d like.”

You gave your own little grin, “That’s alright too, I guess. As long as you get some rest today.”

“So, a lazy day, that’s what I’m hearing?” Keigo’s wings fluttered at the concept.

With a nod and one more stolen kiss, you hummed, “A lazy day it is.”

[jjbarestaurant]

Excuse me, may I order some Bucci gang with an member s/o, who they thought was dead in the events of Vento Aureo, pulling a Joseph Joestar move on their own funeral (lol showing up at your own funeral). And um....extra side of fluff if its available. Please and thank you!

Of course. Enjoy your meal!

TW: Reader death

Bucci gang at S/O’s funeral (But they show up at their own funeral)

🌺Giorno Giovanna🌺

Giorno is crying on Mista's shoulder. This is how life is supposed to be? Honestly, what is the price? He lost someone he loved; Yeah, he has the gang, but you were his love!

He is so confused. Everything happened so suddenly that he couldn't even give you a proper goodbye.

When someone puts a hand on his shoulder, Mista notices it.

"Hey, please let him alo- Giorno... there's someone who wants to talk with you..."

When Giorno looks at you while wiping his tears off, he is in shock. How are you ali- honestly, who has time for questions now? His lover is right in front of him; When he thought they were dead! The only thing he can do now is smile, and hug you.

"My love, how are you ali-"

Giorno will only ask some stuff. He doesn't want to overwhelm you when Narancia is asking all the details about the days you were gone.

Giorno, being the romantic boy he is, will take you on a romantic date. He will tell about how it was receiving the news of what happened, say how much he loves you, how much he missed you.

When you two get home, Giorno will kiss you... almost every time; He cuddles with you before sleep; And will whisper sweet nothings in your ear, maybe even sing a lullaby in Italian.

🤐Bruno Bucciarati🤐

Even though Bruno wants to stay strong in front of his gang, he can't.

Bruno isn't crying too much but is blaming himself. He is the worst leader; He should die in your place;  If Bruno can't take care of a member (and his dear), he can't be a leader! After that, he has a breakdown.

When Bruno listens to footsteps approaching, he tries to compose himself and stay calm (even if he can't that much, he is trying).

When he feels a hand on his shoulder, he asks in a harsh tone. While sobbing a little.

"What do you want?"

When he hears your voice saying his name, he turns to see the person.

When Bruno perceives it's you, he is in shock. You were dead. Right? w-what the heck is going on?

Bruno stares at you for some time in disbelief. He gives the momma Bruno smile (you know what I'm talking about) he hugs you and cries... hard.

He has so many questions but won't ask you now. You being alive is already enough.

Bruno tells everyone in the gang you're alive; By showing you to them. 

Bruno will do a reunion at Libeccio's. Besides all the questions you are receiving from everyone in the gang. Is good to be together.

Later that day, Bruno will make a home date, cook your favorite food; take a bath together; lay on the couch; cuddle; All the things he can to show he loves you. 

When you two are laying in the bed, ready to sleep, Bruno will give you a tight hug; and a goodnight kiss.

"Thank you for being alive"

🛩Narancia Ghirga🛩

Here he is, crying on Fugo's shoulder while holding a bunch of flowers he got on a field last day to give you as a present.

He is a mix of anger and sadness. Even though he wants to take revenge, you are more important.

Why did this happen? Why you and not him? He is such a bad boyfriend for not protecting you.

Narancia, at that moment, will only talk to Mista and fugo. Anyone who isn't these people, he will ignore or tell them to go away.

When Narancia feels a hand on his shoulder, he tells you to go away.

"Hey, Narancia, it's me."

When he hears your voice, he stops crying so hard and calms down. He looks at you; A huge smile appears on his face; he gives you a tight hug and pampers your face with kisses.

"Y/N, Y/N, Y/N! You weren't dea-? Wait, how are you... UGH! YOU DON'T KNOW HOW I MISSED YOU"

Please give this poor boy an explanation.

He will ask you everything, but when he sees you are feeling a little overwhelmed, he will start to apologize.

Narancia will be with you almost the whole day for one week. He will plan a date and pamper you with love and some gifts.

That day, in the afternoon/night, Narancia would ask if you want to go to a restaurant with him.

When you two get home, Narancia will cuddle with you for a reeeeeeally long time while showering with love.

🔫Guido Mista🔫

*insert Mista's crying face here*

Mista is with a hand on his head, trying to process everything that happened. He is crying a mess. Honestly, what kind of boyfriend is he? Probably the worst one; He can't even take care of his s/o.

He is muttering little "why's" repeatedly. He could have saved you, he could have died in your place, and everything would be fine! But no, he wasn't capable of saving his s/o life.

When Mista feels a hand on his shoulder, he thinks it is a member of the gang.

"I will stay here a little longer. I will join you guys soon..."

When he hears your voice saying his name, Mista slowly turns to you, in a state of complete shock. He can't believe what's in front of him now. Mista will almost scream.

"My love? wha- ho- wait, you weren't..."

Please explain to him what happened, or Mista will freak out believing he can see ghosts.

Even after the explanation, Mista will stay confused.

Mista will take you on a date at an ice cream shop. He will buy every flavor you want.

Also, Mista wouldn't give you this idea, but if you want to take a bubble bath with him, he will accept it. Mista loves to make a beard with bubbles, and put some bubbles on your nose.

(i just loved this last scenario)

🗯Panacotta Fugo 🗯

Fugo is devasted. Besides being a member he appreciated, you were the one who loved him, and now, here he is. Alone again. 

Fugo has a hard time showing his emotions. He isn't crying; He is furious and being rude to almost everyone around him.

When Fugo hears footsteps approaching him, he turns to the people and yells at them to fuck off. He doesn't need help and tells them to go away.

When Fugo sees it's you, he thinks it's a joke. Even though, this isn't the moment to prank someone. 

But, when he hears your voice; And the way you're talking to him, he is sure isn't a prank. 

Fugo is feeling guilty for reacting like that, and later that day, he will apologize for what happened; He was just in shock.

Fugo will ask Bruno if he can take you to a place and talk (maybe Bruno wants a reunion, or to ask you something, who knows?).

Fugo will take you to a calm place. He has many questions but will try to not overwhelm you with it.  He is listening to every detail you tell.

Soon that day, Fugo would like to lay with you on the bed/couch, with his head on your chest, happy to hear your heartbeat.

"uh... y/n, thank you for staying with me."

🍷Leone Abbacchio🍷

Abbacchio stays at the funeral after everyone had left; He needs his time alone. He is on his knees, venting to your grave, telling he is sorry for not being the best, for sometimes being a little rough with you; These type of stuff.

First, his friend, now, his love, what kind of person he is? Two people died because of him.

Abbacchio already had a breakdown earlier, so now he isn't crying too much, just sobbing.

When he hears footsteps approaching him, he stops talking and starts talking in his head.

When you put a hand on his shoulder, he tries to take it off. But when he feels a touch very similar to his darling, he looks at you.

He looks at you from toes to head. He can't believe it. 

At first, Abbacchio thinks he is hallucinating. But... the touch he felt on his shoulder... Was identical to yours. When you approach him more, he is sure it's you.

"Y/n?"

Leone feels a mix of happiness, relief, and confusion.

He holds your hand, and even though Leone isn't good with actions, he hugs you. He is happy to feel you again.

Abbacchio, later that day, he will cuddle and take a bath with you.

Does he have a lot of questions? Yes! But at least you are here with him. And even though he doesn't show it that much, he is enjoying every moment with you; Your presence makes him feel happy.

Abbacchio will stay away awake a little longer just enjoying your presence (even though you are sleeping); And wake during the night to check if you are well.

I’m sorry some of these are really short, and that some of these are huge.

[voltrinityub]

Omori AU - Mari Pushes Sunny Down the Stairs and Basil Witnesses it

//Spoiler Warning for the Omori end game! Even though it’s an AU, I don’t want to leave implied spoilers!! 

//Trigger warning for death and graphic imagery!

Omori AU where Mari pushed Sunny down the stairs and Basil is the one who witnessed it.

Major points -

Basil was visiting Sunny’s house to play before their recital. The twins had just finished a routine practice session but Sunny was upset and Mari was mad at him.

Soon after Basil arrives, the two fight, and Sunny grabs his violin and throws it down the stairs. It breaks at the bottom of the staircase.

Mari storms up to him out of anger. The two proceed to argue and fight back and forth. Basil is watching in disbelief the whole time.

Mari suddenly pushes Sunny down the stairs during their fight. He lands at the bottom on top of the violin, a snap was heard during his fall. Basil watches in disbelief.

After a few moments, Mari realizes what she’s done and rushes to her brother. She tries to wake him up and notices he isn’t moving or responding.

Meanwhile, Basil’s in shock at what he witnessed. His perception of Mari is changed from this event and now he fears her and is afraid of her and seeing his best friend dead.

Mari’s Something takes the form of Sunny with a limp expression, while Basil’s Something takes the form of Mari’s silhouette because he now fears her.

They end up contacting their parents and emergency personnel. The event is played off as an accident after authorities questioned Mari and Basil about what happened. Neither of them could formulate the courage to admit what happened (Basil’s in too much shock, Mari is breaking down and doesn’t want to get in trouble).

Basil is unable to confront Mari or be with her from that point onward and starts to seclude himself from others after watching his best friend die. He couldn’t bear to see Sunny’s face in photos anymore after that, so he removed them from his photo album in addition to scribbling out Mari’s face on some.

Mari goes into a depressive state and ends up quitting piano because of this. She puts off going to college for a little while until after she moves away.

The gang would be affected by Sunny’s death and not hang out as much anymore. Basil’s too traumatized to play with them and stops attending school. Mari doesn’t attend school for a while and Hero helps her with taking notes, etc, and starts to spend less time with the others. Kel and Aubrey begin to fight more now that they’re alone and eventually drift apart. Everyone is upset by Sunny’s death.

((I don’t think Basil or Mari would play off Sunny’s death as a suicide, but I also don’t think they’d completely tell the truth either. They’re still young and don’t want to suffer the consequences, whatever they maybe, so it is played off as an accident instead))

More under the cut if you’re interested!

Story Breakdown

I wanted to include how I envisioned this to play out. So, if you’d like to read some of my 3am thoughts then enjoy lol.

Beforehand -

The day starts off perfectly normal. Sunny was practicing with his sister in preparation for their recital. He had asked Basil beforehand to come play with him later that day.

Basil arrives at Sunny’s house just as he and Mari finished practicing. The door opens with a somewhat annoyed Sunny and Mari yelling at him from inside the house. Something was off with the two of them and Basil could tell Sunny was upset and so was Mari, but he didn’t ask.

As Basil and Sunny were starting to play in the living room together, Mari comes in and complains to Sunny about storming off from their practice to play and not playing well enough (she wanted their duet to be perfect)! Sunny is annoyed and doesn’t care, saying he just wants to play with his friend.

Mari and Sunny continue to argue while Basil is still settling down. Basil watches as his two friends fight about their playing and attempts to calm them down but is too timid for them to pay him any attention.

The two’s argument gets worse when Sunny storms off to his bedroom to grab his Violin he just put away, while Mari is demanding he stays put and Basil just watches his two friends fight. (Arguments between Sunny and Mari are few and far between, and when they do happen they resolve very quickly or are about little things. But this one is different: it’s more physical and there’s genuine tension between the two he’s never noticed before.)

Angry by Mari’s demands and bickering, and sick of practicing a hobby he thought would be fun, Sunny throws his violin down the stairs in a fit of rage, frustration — you name it.

Basil and Mari hear an instrument crash against the hardwood floor and run to the stairwell to find Sunny’s gifted violin broken at the bottom of the stairs.

At first, Basil is just shocked and all he can do is watch. Sunny’s at the top of the steps angry and crying. Mari, however shocked in disbelief she is at first, storms up the stairs to Sunny.

The two begin to argue more and this time they’re getting physical. Mari’s yelling at him, asking all sorts of questions out of her anger and disbelief. (“Why would you do that? You broke the present we all saved up for you? And our recital!? You completely ruined our recital!”)

Meanwhile, Sunny’s breaking down and angry because he’s so frustrated with how strict Mari is during practice and how much he hates doing this. He won’t ever be good enough for her and is just sick of hearing how to improve or about their concert later. He’s had it.

Basil is watching from the bottom of the stairs, hiding behind a wall watching his best friend and his sister fight. He’s too timid (and scared) to break them up or speak up; all he can do is watch as they hit one another and shove one another.

During -

Then it happens. Between the sibling’s fighting and bickering, Mari pushes Sunny down the stairs.

Several loud thuds later and Sunny crashed at the bottom, into his broken violin, with an audible snapping sound along the way.

Mari’s at the top of the steps still heaving and angry.

Basil watched in horror as someone he loved and trusted just pushed his best friend down the stairs, in total shock and not moving at first; this will lead to him fearing Mari and this day ((will explain more further down)).

A few moments pass and Sunny isn’t moving. Mari catches her breath and Basil emerges more from the corner, flickering his gaze between Mari and Sunny lying limp on the ground.

When the two take clear notice Sunny isn’t moving, panic sets in. Mari realizes her mistake and runs down the steps to her brother, stopping at his side.

Basil’s still in shock but slowly moves forward. He’s starting to breath rapidly and rationalize what the hell just happened.

Mari’s now freaking out next to Sunny’s body. She tries to wake him up, tries to move him slightly or tap on him to get a response. She tries her best but there isn’t any response... Sunny’s just limp. And all Basil can do is watch.

“S-Sunny?” Basil sheepishly mutters, now he’s only a few steps away from his friends. He notices Sunny’s limp posture and expression; Sunny’s face is scarred into his memories.

Amidst Mari’s panic, she hears Basil and demands him to grab the house phone for her.

Basil’s startled at the demand but heads to grab the house phone in the other room. He’s shaking and breathing violently, comprehending what happened (“Mari’s a good person, she’d never do that! It’s just an accident! Mari didn’t mean it! That wasn’t Mari!”).

Meanwhile, Mari doesn’t know what to do and her hysteria is taking over. She can’t think or reason but she’s mature enough to know to call someone: ((I believe Mari would be more mature and knows her brother needs help but still isn’t responsible enough to rationalize it completely and do the best thing. I don’t believe she would try to cover it up and I also don’t believe Basil would suggest something as such to her. Personally, I think they would be too terrified of the consequences of doing so))

Once Basil returns with the phone, Mari snatches it from his hand. She can’t decide who to call first — her parents, Hero’s house next door, or 911 for help. She doesn’t have time to think though and her first instinct is to call Hero’s house to get someone else here.

Mari calls Hero’s house and cries when she hears him answer. She sobs and painfully asks him to come over with his parents, muttering something about Sunny and needing help. It’s hard to understand but Mari’s panicking like he’s never heard before.

Within a minute, Hero’s rushing into the house with his parents right behind him. Kel was out with Aubrey, so neither of them are here (and that’s for the best).

Hero ignores Basil who’s hiding behind the wall still in shock and rushes to Mari’s side. Hero yells to his parents to call an ambulance and they do.

Meanwhile, Basil is dissociating and hard. Panic, fear, confusion — any and every type of feeling is running through his brain after seeing his friend get pushed down the stairs by his sister. Basil looks at Mari with horror and an image of a black distorted figure takes his mind in place of Mari (his Something).

Basil drowns out the commotion of Mari, Hero’s family, and the EMT that arrive the whole time. He’s sitting against the wall in shambles until one of the authorities snaps him out of his trance. 

Meanwhile, Sunny was taken away in an ambulance with Hero’s mom (Mari and Sunny’s parents weren’t there, and Mari was still freaking out so Hero’s mom volunteered to go with them until their parents arrived)

The authorities begin to question Basil and Mari about what happened. Mari claims it was an accident and found Sunny like that, not completely telling the truth. But all Basil can really say is “it was an accident.” 

The entire case was written off as an accident. Neither Mari nor Basil could clearly confess what happened even though they both know what happened.

Afterwards -

Hero’s mom goes with the EMT service and contacts Sunny’s parents along the way, meanwhile Hero’s dad stayed behind. Hero ends up walking Basil home and can’t get a response out of him.

Once Sunny’s parents and Mari get to the hospital, it’s too late. Sunny died going down the stairs with his neck snapping. There wasn't anything they could do to save him.

The recital never happened that night.

Basil found out that same night his friend was dead and he witnessed it.

The next few days are met with grief, remorse, sorrow, and regret on Mari’s half.

Mari’s family is mourning the loss of their son. The news is broken to Kel me Aubrey the next day. They’re both sad and confused.

Sunny’s funeral was hard to sit through. All of his friends attended but Basil couldn’t rationalize it. The whole time at his funeral, all he could do is stare at Mari in fear and disbelief while he mourned the loss of his best friend. It left him sick to his stomach.

Mari is crying the entire time and regrets pushing him down the stairs and to his limits. She should’ve been a better sister.

After this, Mari would fall into a deep depressive state. She would end up quitting playing the piano and resenting it. She would stop going to school and would rely on Hero to bring her class notes, but she never had the enthusiasm to try hard anymore and eventually just stops.

Basil stops going to school after this for a while, most likely the rest of the year until he has enough strength to go again. But he has a hard time confronting his friends out of anxiety and fear from that night. He doesn’t want them to know what happened.

Due to Sunny’s death and both Mari and Basil confiding themselves to their homes, their group starts to break up.

Hero has little time to hang out with his brother and Aubrey while he’s swamped with school work, college prep, and trying to help Mari (I believe Hero would try to make Mari happy and help her, but would stop once he has to go off to college without her).

Kel and Aubrey begin to fight more without the others around. They blame one another in their grief and confusion until eventually they stop playing together. 

Aubrey eventually finds another group of friends and starts to bully Kel and Basil once he returns back to school.

Kel takes up doing sports to get his mind off of things. He tries to play with Basil still, but Basil has put up a wall between him and everyone else so Kel eventually gives up trying to talk to Basil.

The next several years, the gang is older but still hurt and distant. Sunny’s death was the unfortunate event that caused them all to drift apart.

Mari -

Mari’s Something would look like Sunny’s limp face after she saw him at the bottom of the stairs. It haunts her constantly.  Her Something is a manifestation of grief, regret, self-hate, remorse, and anxiety.

I don’t believe Mari would have a headspace in this AU because she is older than Sunny in the original game, so it wouldn’t make too much sense to me if she had a Headspace to hide in. Instead, Mari would just be room-bound and would never make an effort to do anything or see anyone in her depression.

However, if Mari did have a headspace, I think it would revolve around the friend group and playing the piano. It wouldn’t be as crazy as Sunny’s in the original, but just a dream world she would find herself in where her brother was still alive and happy and not tormented by playing the violin.

I also believe Mari would rely on Hero for the first portion of this tragedy until he eventually has to go away to college, leaving her with only texts and calls instead of coming over to visit. Before Hero goes off to college, he tries to balance school work,  keeping his friend group happy, and caring for Mari whom he’d come to visit and support.

Basil -

Basil’s Something would look like a distorted version of Mari’s silhouette the day she pushed Sunny down the stairs. It would haunt him relentlessly to the point where Basil can’t even see Mari. This Something would be a manifestation of grief, anxiety, fear, and sadness.

Basil would find it hard to hang out with his old friends in fear of seeing Mari or somehow changing their perception of her. So he chooses to keep the truth to himself and hides away. 

Thank you for reading if you made it this far! 

I was just thinking one night “what would’ve happened if Sunny fell down the stairs and Basil was there?” This was just one of those crazy ideas I had to type out and imagine, so I hope you enjoyed it or will think about it with me. 

I apologize if my thoughts are a bit misconstrued but feel free to add on to this or whatever. I think the story could have a dramatic change if Sunny was the one who was pushed down the stairs that day and died rather than Mari.

If anyone wants me to expand on this AU story a bit more or has questions, let me know. I’m not the best story teller and I didn’t want to make this too long.

[ihopesocomic]

Do you guys ever get extremely emotional over a name you gave to a character? Like maybe a bit unreasonably emotional?

Like ive got a character whos bio mum hates her and named her Doomed to tear down her confidence but then her adoptive mum names her Everything and i think about that then i have to stop or ill start crying my eyes out

I sorta get emotional over Aloe's name, as aloe vera is symbolic with grief and healing from said loss. Tempest's name gets me too, for reasons that will be revealed later. By extension: Storm and Wind too. Daffodils are often associated with rebirth and new beginnings, which makes me adore Daffodil all the more. Dagga named them that to symbolise that she had found a new purpose in life, after losing both her father and mother. And of course, there's Hopeful. I won't lie, I had real misgivings around her being called Hopeless and then having to wait a few chapters before it officially becomes Hopeful. However, Clever taking the -less from the name and just naming her Hope will always get me. It just perfectly paves the way for her becoming -ful once she decides to leave the Grove.

On the other side of the coin, there's Diamond. Their parents believing they were such a blessing despite being born with paralysed back legs that they named them after the toughest, most precious gemstone there is. A complete contrast to Hope's situation. We unfortunately never get to meet Diamond's parents but I like to think that gesture indicates they were good and kind-hearted and loved their kid, no matter what.

And the fact that Adamant is a legendary mineral and she ends up with Diamond in the end. So looking forward to having Adamant/Diamond time.

The Meaningful Name trope is just one of my favourite tropes as a writer. Hence why the comic is just littered with them.

[raindownforme]

Santa Monica

Ted Nivison x read [they/them used]

(Preface; this fic is gently inspired by the song Santa Monica by the Front Bottoms)

“Maybe I’m just un-lovable.”

“That’s a bit dramatic.”

y/n dug their foot into the sand, spilling a bit onto their beach towel. It was late in the afternoon by now, with the sun starting to reach the horizon between the sea and the sky. Ted was standing nearby, slowly packing up everything they’d both brought to the beach. “I don’t know. Maybe.”

“You’re just being dumb.”

“Don’t call me dumb!” y/n picked up their empty water bottle and tossed it Ted, it bumping into his hip. He laughed at it and tossed it back.

“If you’re being dumb I’ll call you dumb. I mean, there is 1,000 percent someone out there who loves you.”

“Oh yeah? Who?” y/n looked up towards Ted, but he was slightly turned away. They could still see his face was bright red, however. “Are you sunburnt? I have some aloe vera at home.”

“Uh yeah. I think so.”

“Come on let’s head back.” y/n stood up, shoving their towel in their bag, and Ted followed. The pair made their way from the sand to the stone bike path that lead to the pier. Then, they climbed the rotting wooden stairs onto the wooden street, climbing uphill until they reached the busy paved road. They crossed, heading down a block to y/n’s apartment building. They made their way to the rickety elevator that could just barely fit the two of them.

“Fifth floor please.”

“Yeah yeah.” y/n rolled their eyes at ted and pressed the button. They shifted weight on their feet, moving around the small pile of sand that sat in the grooves of the floor. “They really should clean this thing.”

“I don’t know I just work here.”

“Ted I swear-“ The elevator dinged and the two stepped off, walking the eight doors down to y/n’s small apartment. Once inside, y/n slipped off their sandals and went to place everything on the kitchen counters. “Do you want to shower or anything? You should have some extra clothes in my room.”

“No I don’t feel that gross yet.”

“Fine just don’t get sand all over my stuff.”

“I didn’t even go in the water that much!” y/n chuckled as Ted laid back against their yellow couch. “What are you doing over there?”

“I’m just washing all the sand off everything. It kind of needs to be clean before I put it away.”

“Cool. I think I might take a shower.”

“No go ahead you know where everything is.” y/n continued on with cleaning as Ted showered. Almost ten minutes later, they heard the bathroom door open. “Hey if you’re still sun burnt-“

The stopped. Ted was wearing comfortable clothing he’d kept at their place. “What? Is there something on my face?”

“No! No never mind.” y/n turned back to the sand toys drying on the kitchen counter. “There’s still aloe vera in there if you need it.”

“I think I’m good but thanks.” Ted walked over to the kitchen area, lightly pushing y/n over. “Can I get water now.”

“Absolutely not.” y/n jokingly shoved him.

“Yeah y/n?” The two kept pushing back and forth jokingly, playing around with each other as Ted kept trying to reach the Brita filter in the fridge.

“Wait-!” y/n slipped and began to tumble backwards, but Ted dropped his glass to catch them.

The glass shattered and y/n held their breath. One of Ted’s hand was securely on their back, the other gently holding their shoulder. The cup Ted had been holding shattered on the ground beneath the two of them.

“Are you okay?” Ted leaned a bit closer to y/n. He seemed to scan them over, looking for any injury.

“Yeah just don’t set me down I guess.”

“Here watch this.” Ted, the tall boy he was, took a big step across the glass pile, doing his best to pull y/n with him. “Like an angel.”

“Yeah sure.” y/n stood and went to fetch the small broom from the closet. “You didn’t step on any did you?”

“No definitely not.” Ted went back to sit on the couch. “You hungry at all? It’s seven already.”

“I know. Theres a couple places downstairs.”

“You’re still in your bathing suit dumbass.”

“Oh.” y/n looked down at themselves. They set the broom to the side and leaned it against the counter. “Just a moment.”

Ted watched as they went to their room then to the bathroom. “I’ll just wait here.”

“Don’t go in the kitchen yet!” y/n shut the door. Waiting for them to come back out, Ted went through google maps, looking at all the restaurants downstairs.

As the door opened, Ted readjusted his glasses. “Okay so theres Mexican, a bakery, some seafood, and whatever is on the pier. We could go somewhere and sit or grab something and come back.”

“I don’t know. Mexican sounds kind of good. I’m guessing anything else is way over priced.”

“You don’t gotta worry about money with me baby.” Ted’s eyes trailed y/n as they walked back to the kitchen.

“Calling me baby now? Quite bold of you. We haven’t even dated yet.”

Ted felt his face flush and he coughed, trying to hide his face from y/n. “Y-Yet you say?”

y/n paused sweeping. “W-Well. I just- You know what I meant!”

y/n kept sweeping as Ted thought to himself. “Can I… Can I talk about something?”

“Of course you can.” y/n’s voice echoed from the kitchen.

Ted hesitated. “I don’t want to not be friends.”

The sweeping paused. “Why wouldn’t we be?”

Ted took a breath. He sat flat on the couch, glancing around the room, trying to not look at y/n. “I’ve been friends with you for ever now, but I don’t want to anymore. And I don’t want to because I don’t like you. I mean I do like you. I- fuck- I love you. I spend half my day thinking about it you want to do a video with me or hang out or if you need help ever. I can’t not think about it. And I know that you haven’t had the best relationships but I want to make things so much better for you-“

“T-Ted.” y/n was standing in the entry way of the kitchen, holding the broom in one hand while trying to not cry.

“Hey what’s wrong?” He stood up and rushed to their side, gently resting his hands on their face to wipe at stray tears.

“I- you’re really sweet and I didn’t-“ y/n stopped and leaned on their toes to wrap their arms over the top of Ted’s shoulders, peppering kisses on his cheek. “I love you to Ted. I love you so much.”

Ted pulled away for a moment, only to lean back in and kiss y/n firmly on the lips. They both smiled into it, y/n doing their best to pull Ted closer while minding the glass still at their feet.

As they pulled apart, y/n smiled. Tapping lightly on Ted’s shoulder. “So, a relationship you said?”

Ted laughed. “A relationship it is. You wanna go get food?”

“Yeah let me just go get some shoes.”

y/n turned around and Ted was finishing straightening up the kitchen. He put the broom back and looked up to see y/n standing by the door, holding out a hand for him to hold. “Ready baby?”

They smiled. “Ready.”

[reveriequill-rai]

Shroud: Withered Soul

A/N: Sorry it’s been a while. As of right now I’ve just been uploading stories I’ve written in my newspaper club, and now that I’ve graduated I hope that can now expand to short stories generally. I’m not gonna promise that posts from now on will be more consistent, but I would like to at least speed up my uploads a bit before they actually wind down, as I imagine I will be working on more stories in the future. Everything being uploaded right now is previous work, but nothing too old--probably like, from last year tops. This was completed sometime in May, I believe. 

This is an introduction to a character I created called ‘Shroud,’ an amateur self-proclaimed ‘detective’ who exclusively investigates occult-based crimes and malefic.

Content Warning: death, descriptions of corpses, graphic descriptions of violence and pain, cults 

[My blog will usually contain PG-13 stories, and as of right now I am writing some darker content, but I will tag anything that may be especially disturbing or uncomfortable. I’ll include this warning in my bio, too.]

----------

The corpse in front of me wasn’t all that disturbing by itself. I had seen dead people before–comes with the territory. I had been dead before. Murder rates in Twilight were, naturally, much higher than any other district in New Fable–especially further south of the district where I was–considering how much wild magic was around, and not even the police force sent here from the northern district of Bastion could do anything about it. So the corpse itself didn’t bother me, all things considered.

What did disturb me, though, was a number of other things.

For one, the corpse just being there was a problem. They weren’t stopping, and they were getting far too close to home.

Its eyes were still open, for another thing, and nearly colorless, and looking at me specifically, and I can swear to you that had not happened when I first laid eyes on it. Even worse, like me, the man lying dead in front of me appeared to be wearing a few bandages like I was, perhaps just recovering from an injury.

And for yet another thing, and perhaps the worst part of this, was the connection I felt with this dead man. Something about the state he was in struck a familiar chord that only I and a select unlucky others knew. As if we were kindred spirits–undergoing the same fate, yet with (probably) different outcomes.

I had been at this–whatever you would call tracking down cults as someone with zero prior detective experience with the help of almost no one–for…a few months now? And I’ve made a bit less progress than would be expected from someone who has seen just about everything the darker sides of magic had to offer. I did have one solid lead, though, and hopefully one that would lead me to exactly who I was looking for.

“Everyone move,” I ordered, pushing my way through the crowd.

Ignoring their complaints, I made my way over toward the body and began to examine it, hoping for any hint of who had done this, and more importantly, if it was exactly who I had suspected. There didn’t appear to be much damage, but what first caught my attention was the note tucked into the man’s pocket. I took it out and unfolded it, and immediately flinched.

Demon tongue.

Hellish whispers ran through my head, and I wasn’t sure if they were just in my head or not. It was hard to tell these days.

I honed in on the note, written on some old paper as if torn from an ancient book. The more I stared, the louder the whispers got. I ignored the throbbing in my head as best as I could–humans were not mentally equipped to engage with the infernal language at all, and I much less so. My hands shook as I read the brief message, which I must have read dozens and dozens of times already; I wasn’t counting and didn’t care to.

Some people studied demon tongue despite…well…everything, even the illegality. It probably didn’t matter to them. It didn’t matter to me, either, but someone had spoken to me in demon tongue before–though, in their defense, likely not out of their own volition–and the trembling and rapid heart rate was not worth the ability to communicate with infernals. (Nothing was, honestly.)

For these reasons–and also not wanting to be arrested or have my mage license revoked–I personally didn’t speak or write demon tongue, but I at least knew a little bit and could recognize some of the infernal runes. And those runes were enough for me to know that this was the exact same message that the abyss had been trying to send me in my last moments.

—

Can’t run home, I thought. They’ll follow me.

Just gotta run until I find a phone booth.

I ran until I finally spotted one on the street corner near a bridge. I let out a sigh of relief, taking a quick moment to catch my breath. Then, I quickly crossed the street and ran toward the phone booth, quickly dialing the police station.

“Hello?” I said into the phone as quietly as I could manage. “My name is [……………………………] I’m at the corner of Coral Avenue by the Armada IV Memorial Bridge. I’m being pursued by a group of kids in demon-charmed cloaks and shawls, please I need your help they have knives and they’re trying to kill me-“

The tears stinging at the edge of my eyes began to overflow as a human voice at the end of the line responded in perfect, uncharacteristically calm demon tongue. It was a short sentence, repeated over and over again, but with the little knowledge I *did* have, I could translate it by about the sixth loop:

“You are going to hell.”

I hung up the phone immediately, resisting the urge to yell, “I KNOW” directly into the phone.

Humans can’t speak demon tongue here. It’s illegal.

So how did an officer know demon tongue?

—

Unsurprisingly, the body was still in semi-good condition. After all, little damage was done to the body—only the soul. The only physical marks I could make out were marks around the wrist and neck, likely to restrain the victim. Couple of bruises here and there, too, but nothing was broken.

This…disturbed me, to say the least.

Cults around here were usually known to be violent. After all, a lot of them stood for violent causes–executing the ‘impure,’ plunging everyone into the dreams of a volatile eldritch creature, usurping the throne and forcing everyone to convert, rallying the youth to their bloody cause with claims that they alone possessed special powers…I had heard it all, all of them violent to some degree. But the ones that had gotten me…they seemed to worship oblivion itself. Or maybe whatever was in it. That was beyond even my knowledge.

But…even then, they still had arguably the least violent cause. The deadliest, yes–they seemed to just be destroying souls–but strangely not as bloody. Yet their means of carrying out this objective has historically been, well, bloody.

Or maybe that was just me.

Either way, this victim had certainly not gotten the worst of it. There were no twisted limbs, no bloodied nose, no wounds from blade or bullet, basically no magic-driven attacks aside from the terminating consumption of the soul…only marks of the initial restraint, bruises from the subduing, and the abyss claiming and destroying the soul.

I could almost picture it in my head: they likely jumped him in the middle of the street, kicking him around a bit to possibly weaken him, throw him off balance, but not too much as to rouse resistance, then restraining him–to the floor? A wall? I couldn’t tell, but there were no rope burns so they must have done this by hand–and calling, somehow, for their god, for lack of a better word, to devour its newest victim’s soul.

What did he see as he died? Did their eyes turn as colorless as his would become? Had they shown any sign of enjoying his torment? I doubt it; it didn’t seem like a very ‘fun’ kill. And likely not as personal as it was for me.

They were getting much better at their kills. It probably wasn’t as fun, but more precise.

And a lot less violent than I had gotten.

—

I caught a glimpse of the charm from earlier out of the corner of my eye, but just as I looked it vanished. Just then a cold breeze hit me as the door behind me opened, and I was yanked out onto the street, leaving the phone dangling by the cord. The book dropped from my hands.

The four delinquents appeared in front of me from nowhere, likely having turned off their Moonlight Shroud charms.

“Gotcha,” Ransley said, smiling as he picked up the book.

“Give it BACK!” I roared, lunging for him. Ransley hit me hard across the face with the book, sending me flying a few feet back onto the brick road. Quickly I realized that my safety was not worth keeping that book. I didn’t know where or how Ransley learned to hit that hard but I wasn’t going to stick around to find out. As he and the others examined the book, I began to scurry away as Ransley gave an order to the others:

“Get him.”

An instant later, I heard something click far behind me, and a sharp pain ripped through my knee. I collapsed to the floor, letting out an agonized cry. I examined my knee, and saw a hole much bigger than a bullet hole should be. I looked up at my attackers.

A gun?!

“What the HELL?!” I shouted. “You’ve already got what you want! LEAVE ME ALO-“

Ardent appeared behind me and punched me square in the face. I held my probably-broken nose as a muffled shriek of pain escaped me. Each of them vanished and took turns raining blows and slashes on me as I tried to step back and run. They gave me almost no chance to react. My body ached everywhere; the knife wounds, though shallow, stung just as bad, if not worse, as any bee. I could barely stand. I used my remaining strength to try and push them off of me whenever I felt them, but I stumbled each time I did, giving them room to knock me around further. Finally I collapsed, and Ardent grabbed my shirt and dragged me to the bridge.

“W-wait-“ I cried, still wincing and crying from my bruises and decayed knee. “STOP IT!-”

—

I examined the bandages on my hand and knee. The ones from that night must’ve been amateurs, or at least new to the cult’s way of doing things.

Focus, Shroud.

The victim’s eyes were still open, and almost completely empty.

Almost.

The body must not be entirely empty, then. This wasn’t exactly a kill—whoever this person was, they would not be dead for much longer, or at least depending on your definition of ‘dead.’

How long ago had this attack been, then? I touched the skin—still warm-ish. This had to be recent.

By that logic, if this was meant not as a lethal attack, but as one of induction into their group…

I wasn’t sure how long I had been out, but I at least knew it wasn’t for very long.

So…I didn’t have much longer, then.

I instinctively jerked away from the body. Would he come back? He wouldn’t be under anyone’s control, at least for the first few minutes–how long does it take to kill someone? Would it be long enough for him to kill me?–no, he probably wouldn’t go after me; I had barely any soul left for him to long for…unless he’s just that desperate enough to take scraps from a near-husk.

What would he do when he came back? Would he wander around, lost, confused, until they welcomed him with false promises of salvation and freedom from the ‘burden’ of having a judgement-tied soul? Would he be violent, as they had been to him?

Then again…I came back after one of their attacks, but with a will of my own. Did they want me to come back? Why would they want me of all people to come back?

—

“You know how much trouble you caused us, […….…]?!” Ransley shouted as he kicked me in my injured leg. “Don’t act like you didn’t have this coming, you little weasel.”

“I didn’t-“ I tried to say.

Ransley propped me up on the sidewalk, just by the edge of the bridge, right above the river. He placed his hand on my bruised shoulder, looking at me with a bone-chilling grin.

Again, I got a good look at his eyes. This time, everything except the pupils was entirely white. As I looked I almost felt like I was staring at something beyond; further, even. But the harder I looked the more I could see how much nothing there was. And yet, in spite of that, this nothing seemed to be staring back at me.

The others had the same white eyes too, looking on with a horrible satisfaction.

“What…” I barely managed to say, “…what are y-you…?”

“Free,” Ransley answered, without his usual cruelty and instead with an uncharacteristically sanctimonious tone. “And with our help, so too will you be free.”

With a hard shove, I was pushed off the bridge.

I grabbed onto the edge with my hand, barely having the strength to pull myself up.

“T-this is insane-!” I cried. “Ransley! Please! Y-you can keep the book; I won’t call the police, just help me up-“

Ransley frowned and put his boot on my hand. He leaned in as he brought his foot down harder, crushing my hand. Bone splintered and crumbled under the weight of the shoe, and I let out a shriek as a cold look crossed his face.

“You really should stop holding on so much,” he said. “That’s your problem. That’s why you’re here. Just let go, and face oblivion.”

Ransley took his foot off finally, but my hand had run out of strength. I slipped, and fell into the river.

—

Either way, I had to work fast.

“Hey, kid!” Someone from the crowd called. “What’re you doing? Leave this to the professionals.”

I turned around, and maybe it was the speed at which I had whirled around to face them, or he did just flinch.

Was it my eyes?

“The police won’t find them,” I explained. “I know what I’m doing. I’ve studied demonology for a few years.”

I went back to the body.

“You mean you know who did this?” he asked.

“Maybe,” I answered. “I just wanna be sure…”

I pressed down on the bruises on their shoulder and arms. Hollow. I felt no bone or extra layer of skin or muscle underneath.

Just as I suspected, I thought. Soul devouring.

My only question now was, how much of the soul was left?

—-

The bridge wasn’t particularly tall; just enough for any small cargo ships to run under. But the fall felt much longer than it had any right to.

I never hit the water. I was swallowed by something but it certainly wasn’t the river. It was as cold and sharp but nothing wet ever touched my skin or clothes.

I did not fall into water. I fell into something foreign, something dark, something alive, something evil.

Its eyes were beady and attentive, focused, eager, and it had long rows of sharp fangs. It appeared to smile at me, expecting me, welcoming me. Whispers in demon-tongue surrounded me, and I overwhelmed myself trying to find a single word I could understand. The only thing I could catch was “going to hell” again…was this it? Was this hell? What circle was this?

I was immobile, unable to look away from the creature in front of me, unable to scream as it opened its fang-filled mouth. I couldn’t even let out a scream of protest; no, not against this, as it brought down its jaws and took a large bite out of a deep part of me even I could never access. The pain from my bruises and wounds no longer burned; only ached, as if the pain had been there forever.

I was hollow. If there was anything left, I barely even felt it. My wounds glowed a hot white color and became shallow. I felt nothing but an aching nigh-emptiness that seemed to have no origin I could place; no past; only a present and a long future.

I didn’t know how long I was in that void. But as much as I despised that thing for robbing me of my life, I was grateful that it chose to let me go.

—-


I took out my pen from my pocket and a couple of mini-candles from my satchel. I flicked a lighter and lit the candles, surrounding them at different points around the body. I began to draw an evocation circle around the body. I’m not sure what had stopped this cult from performing forced evocations as opposed to beating everyone into submission until they blacked out enough to face the abyss and have their soul devoured, but I wasn’t about to find any sense in a group of people who literally worship the abyss.

I took my time with the intricate webs of the circle, carefully connecting whatever remained of the soul to the points where I would draw in the runes, and connected those to the candles.

I then drew in symbols in the language of the spirits at the different sub-points that would draw up souls from the afterlife, adding a desperate prayer in each pen stroke that I evoke the right thing and not something unwelcome. I had to steady my hand as I did this, reminding myself that this was merely a human soul who was recently killed, so the chances of him having ended up in hell – was he that kind of person? – were slim; they had to be, of course they were; there was no need to panic so stop panicking. Yet knowing I was drawing the same symbols, the same webs, lighting the same candles as the deadly evokers around town who would break into people’s houses and draw evocation circles under their beds to call up who-knows-what from the pits of hell to torment the living…to think I was drawing the same circle that I checked for every night when I went to sleep…

The pen snapped in my shaking hand against the concrete, getting ink all over my hand. I swore, and rubbed some on my finger tip so I could start to finish the circle.

“What the hell are you doing, kid?!” someone cried, making me jump. “You’re tampering with evidence! That’s illegal!”

“You’re gonna screw up the investigation!” someone else shouted.

I steadied myself from being startled.

“This…this is the investigation,” I replied bluntly.

“Wh–okay…? Are you a detective or something?” the first guy asked.

I shrugged.

“I think so,” I said.

“You think-”

I could hear further shouts from the crowd as I turned the body over to draw the rest of the circle underneath, but I held up my hand to stop them from getting closer.

“Just let me work!” I cried without looking back.

That’s when I noticed some of the rapidly-decaying skin near the shoulder and side of the ankles. The skin had withered and given way to bone, the effect cutting through flesh and muscle. Even the bone had begun to decay.

Well, so much for minimal damage.  

I unzipped the victim’s jacket and pulled back the shirt just slightly to get a better look at the damage. The withering had spread further—the entire shoulder seemed about ready to decay. I took a camera out of my bag and took a picture of the decaying wounds.

With the remaining ink, I drew another sigil on the bandage of my injured hand, a heart-shaped eye-like symbol with two lines running up my index and middle finger. It was a painful process and I was just careful enough to have the pen not tear through the bandage, and I placed my shaking hand on the decaying shoulder and closed my eyes. I saw all of the injuries on the man’s body, including where he had been injured–he had a broken arm that had almost finished recovering, and a fractured foot that was also healing, but wasn’t as near completion as his arms. Either way, both of these had stopped healing, and had actually gotten worse, with the bones beginning to decay in both areas.

What was the point of beating people up, breaking them, letting them decay, and then expecting them to join you after you had broken them? My attackers probably went through the same thing as this man had–as I had, if this cult was larger than them. So why do the same thing to others?

But that was just it, though, wasn’t it?

They knew what it was like to be soulless, and only they knew not only how to recover from the injuries suffered, but how to disguise themselves as living to avoid trouble with the law.

I looked again at the bandages on my hand, and unraveled it slightly, careful not to let the crowd see. There, too, did my flesh begin to decay. This was the primary issue with not having a soul: without the very essence that gives us life, our bodies aren’t capable of self-healing anymore. Any injuries are permanent unless fixed by a doctor, or if we tend our own wounds.

Fortunately my bones—at least in my hand—hadn’t completely withered away. I managed to revive just in time, fortunately.

Just in time.

——

I don’t remember much about the day I woke up. Just the excruciating, aching pain.

What I did know was I had washed up on the shore of the city, and I couldn’t stand up for a very long time. A burning sensation enveloped my entire hand and knee, and I felt a throbbing sensation in both areas. The bruises from the beatdown stuck on me like a leech, but most vividly, my chest felt hollow. And it hurt. The emptiness gnawed at the inside of my chest, and it, too, burned and ached. Like a stomach ache in the wrong place.

With my good hand I crawled my way off of the shore until I found a lamppost. I grabbed onto it, and propped up my good knee. I swung my arm toward the lamppost, grabbing onto it with my bad hand, shocks of pain running through my body. I tried to haul myself up, but the weight of my body caved my knee in, and I collapsed. That’s when I got a good look at my hand.

Bits of skin had completely come off, seeming to have withered away. Pieces of bone underneath had chipped off.

I grew nauseous and I felt the blood drain from my face. I let out some inhuman noise that I reckoned was some attempt at a scream but came out as a cross between that and a moan of agony.

How had this happened?

It was a horrible sound, but at least I had been found. Otherwise, who knows what would’ve happened?

Or who else would’ve found me?

——

Finishing the circle grew tricky as my hand trembled, though I was unsure if it was from the injury or from the reality of the process itself.

“Kid, we don’t even know who you are,” the guy from earlier said. “Are you even a licensed detective?”

I ignored him and wiped some of the ink from my pen on my hand, pressing my hands together to activate the circle. As the soul fire candles flared, what little color was left in their eyes drained slowly, and a small, glowing, deteriorated wisp of a soul rose out of the victim’s body.

This was all that was left…

Somehow this dead man was just the same as I, who could still breath, still walk, still talk, still live—but only just.

What had this man’s soul seen before it was decimated? If, in fact, the same people who killed me are responsible for this, did he, too, see the same grinning face in the abyss that I had? Was he as afraid as I was? Or did he accept this as death?

I took my mage’s license out of my pocket and showed it to the crowd.

“I’m a licensed magic user,” I said, “is that enough?”

“…that’s not a detective license,” the same guy said. “I’m calling the police.”

“Great!” I said. “Tell them the Brotherhood of Abyss Walkers did this.” At this point it was all but confirmed.

“The…what?”

“The cult that keeps tormenting this forsaken town,” I explained. “The one behind all the unexplained murders.”

The guy—along with the rest of the crowd—stifled a laugh. Some of them couldn’t hold it in.

“There’s no cult in New Lumanore,” someone else said. “Our security’s airtight; no way they would’ve been able to form a guild without a license.”

“Just call the authorities, Aaron,” a lady in the crowd said. “This kid isn’t worth persuading.”

“W-wait-“ I said before letting out a resigned sigh. I packed up the candles and pocketed my pen, and took off. I knew who the culprit was. What the police had to say didn’t bother me.

They’ll believe me when I put the culprit behind bars.

—————

In previous investigations I managed to pin down the general area where the Abyss Walkers operate. Prior murders took place at least within a mile’s range of Eclipse Avenue, an area further south of New Lumanore. It was a relatively quiet and empty area; there were quite a bit of shops and buildings of unknown function that no one ever seemed to go into, not even during the day.

The entire place screamed occult activity.

Sure enough, just as I hit the corner of the avenue I caught a glimpse of a Moonlight Shroud charm, pinned to the outwear of a hooded figure. They were walking along the other side of the street, hanging close to the bare wall of a wide building.

Once they were some distance along I crossed the street quickly and began tailing them.

Confrontation wasn’t new to me, just…unfavorable. Is that why I trembled? Either way I knew the procedure: Walk with the same beat. Same path, same pattern of step. Stop when he stops. Walk like this until the shadow is close enough for contact.

Once I did I took out a capsule from my coat. It contained shadow ink, allowing me to either create my own shadow, or to hide within someone else’s. I didn’t have enough of a soul to perform any magical feats on my own–whatever I could do would probably just come out as sparks–so this was the best I could work with. Unfortunately the capsule was nearly empty, and I made a mental note to contact my supplier after I was finished. In the meantime, I used what was left to lather my hand in ink as I silently crept behind the lone cultist, and pressed my hand against his shadow. I latched on and eventually got pulled in. Inside the shadow realm, I had a black-and-white view of the street from inside the wall. I couldn’t breathe, though, and I couldn’t hold my breath for very long so I knew I had to jump him sooner rather than later.

I took a coin out of my pocket and tossed it outside behind the cultist. He stopped and turned around, as expected, and I took the moment to lunge out and grab him by the throat.

—————

The cultist narrowed his eyes, and an amused smirk came on his face.

“Hey…” he said. “I know you.”

I flinched. How?

He kicked me off and stood up.

“You…you’re the kid we got that book from!” He chuckled. “You don’t quit, do you? This is really what you chose to do after death? Vigilante work?”

I felt the blood drained from my face.

“…what are you talking about?” I lied. “What book?”

“The demonology book, stupid,” he said. “The thing damning you to begin with. You forgot already? Or did you lose your memories alongside almost all your soul somehow?”

I clenched my fist, resisting the urge to charge at him again. I couldn’t take him in a head-on fight. I was too weak for that.

“Tell me,” he said. “How’s it feel? Being so close to freedom, so close to ridding yourself of that moral creed weighing you down…no fear of rapture…just your life and your…well, I suppose now broken…body, and your heart and mind.”

“Shut up,” I snapped.

“Good thing you came back, though. We’ve been slacking on our initiations recently…Ardent went a little too hard on too many people. We’re behind on our quota.”

“Wait a sec…” I took a step back. “What do you mean ‘too hard?’ Aren’t they supposed to come back?”

“The idiot decided to use magic to slow the initiates down,” the cultist explained. “As if that wouldn’t damage the soul at all. I’m sure you of all people know. You’ve taken enough beatings form him, right, D–“

I punched him in the face. The second I made contact I realized I had used my bad hand without thinking. Bone snapped, collapsed, and even shifted through the hole in my hand. I let out a far-too-loud shriek of agony as I recoiled and caressed my hand, trying to relocate the bone.

The cultist looked at me and laughed, and I raised a finger on my good hand and threatened him:

“Don’t try that again,” I said. “I’ve still got one—ahh…—perfectly functioning hand.”

“Fine by me,” he replied. “You hit hard for a dead person…”

My hand still ached from the punch. I imagine it probably hurt me way more than it hurt him.

“Do you mean to turn me in, Shroud?” the cultist hissed. “Just try it. I know who you are. They’ll find out you’re undead and investigate you to hell and back. Whatever decimal of a soul you have left won’t save you. Not even close.”

“I can’t trust you with that information even if I let you go,” I said. “But even if you do…I’ll know sooner or later if you’ve said something. You best not try it if you don’t wanna die twice.”

The cultist grinned.

“I’m shaking,” he said, deadpan. “I’ll just come back again.”

“What, are there no revival limits in your little group?”

“Nope. He’ll bring us back again and again as long as he needs us.”

“That sounds terrible.”

“Oh, you’ve only been resurrected once, you big baby,” the cultist said. “You’ll get used to it.”

“I’m not joining you.”

“You have no reason not to,” the cultist said. “We can fix your broken body; make you look and seem as alive as the next person. Those remnants of a soul may not matter to the police, who’ll mark you as soulless anyway, but you know who it does matter to?” He pointed at the sky and at the group. “Them. Someone like you, who’s spent hours learning about heaven’s enemies…you think you have any chance of reaching heaven? HA!”

I fell silent. Just when I thought being registered as ‘dead’ to everyone you know meant they wouldn’t bother you about being a (rookie) demonologist anymore. That reminder worked my last nerve, yet every time it was brought up I could never muster up a proper defense.

“…I’m aware,” I mumbled.

“Besides, I’m sure you’re just livid at the police, who never caught who got you. I’m sure you’d like your vengeance against them for failing you…we can help you out with that, if you’d like. After all, why should we fear death, or judgement, from this life or the next? Like I’ve said, we’ve got no soul to weigh us down to heaven or hell. No death, no judgment. Just you, whatever you wanna do, and a welcoming oblivion who’ll spit you back out as many times as needed. As long as you keep it fed, that is.”

“It doesn’t matter if the police know or if they don’t know,” I said. “I know. And I’ll know more than they ever will. Besides, why the hell would I trust you to give me closure about my death–the death YOU caused?!”

The cultist frowned.

“And that’s just the trouble, isn’t it…you’re just about soulless, and the only soulless person New Lumanore who isn’t with us and…for what? You lose nothing by joining us!”

“First of all,” I shouted. “I am not soulless. Your stupid demon didn’t take all of it.”

“Yeah. Still not sure why that happened,” the cultist replied, “but who am I to question the great abyss–”

“Oh, shut up. And second of all–just in case you forgot–YOU KILLED ME! I don’t owe you loyalty, or gratitude, or mercy…I owe you nothing.”

“You may be upset now,” the cultist said, “but you’ll learn to thank us later.”

“I will not.”

His frown turned into a scowl. He took out a small cylinder from his pocket.

“I was gonna use this the day of the attack,” he said, “but I didn’t see any point. Seemed like the others were doing just fine without the staff.”

Sure enough, the cylinder popped open into a metal bo-staff. He walked towards me, twirling it through his fingers.

“You’ve been chasing the wrong thing, Shroud,” he said. “You think you need vengeance, but what you really need is security. We all know what being soulless is like. You’re weaker, you can’t heal your wounds, you can’t do magic, and it’s pretty obvious when you’ve just come back from the dead. I don’t care what three-percent of a soul you do have; it’s nowhere near enough for you to enjoy all the privileges of being fully human. Face it. You’re basically the same as us.”

As I stepped back, he stopped spinning the staff and instead gripped it with both hands.

“So you can either let go of those remnants you have the audacity to still call a soul, then come with us and let us give you the safety you so desperately need,” he said, rearing the staff back, “…or we’ll just break you further and let oblivion do what it wishes with your remains.”

He started to bring the staff down.

“WAIT!” I yelled, bringing my hands to my face.

Surprisingly enough, he actually froze, the staff a couple inches from my face.

“Okay…I get it…” I said. “You’re right. I won’t turn you in. Just…promise me you won’t tell anyone who I am.”

“What’s stopping me?” the cultist asked, cocking his head slightly and raising an eyebrow.

“Look. I didn’t turn you in,” I said. “You owe me.”

“No I don’t. I’m not tied to anything but oblivion.”

I let out an annoyed huff.

“Like I said. I’ll know if you exposed me,” I reminded him. “I don’t care if that scares you or not, just…let me go.”

“Let YOU go?! You jumped ME!”

“And I had—I…thought…I had the right to. Look…I’m backing down. You go about your night. I go about mine. We don’t speak of this.”

The cultist hesitated, then put the staff away.

“Fine,” he said. “But we’ll still come back for you. Whether or not your initiation goes smoothly is entirely on you.”

With that, he pulled out the same charm he had on the day of the attack, and vanished.

“See you around,” he said.

That was the last I heard of him that night.

Once I thought I was safe, I let out a loud groan of annoyance.

I had him. He was literally a few feet away. If I *just* had more shadow ink that would’ve been it for him.

But…he was right. I was at every possible disadvantage. And I couldn’t work like that. I shouldn’t have jumped him. I should’ve just taken note of his appearance and went from there. That was foolish on my part.

But…I did have his appearance now.

But he had my identity.

I still wasn’t at a complete advantage. And I couldn’t work like that. I had to lay low, and rebuild. My hand was wounded and I was lucky I didn’t get my skull bashed in. There was no way I could have recovered from that. But I wouldn’t give up. I had a lead and I wasn’t letting go of it.

I didn’t care about their ‘freedom’ or ‘not being tied down’ or anything like that. Fact of the matter is, they were hurting people, and their demon lord had more control over them than they’d realize.

They were beyond redemption. The demon didn’t bind them through any soul manipulation or contract–it was some weird combination of free will, gratitude, and the threat of permanent death.

These cultists had to go, and quickly. They had to pay, and dearly.

I know I’m weak, but once I’m back up and running I would do as much damage from the shadows as humanly possible.

They weren’t bound by any rules, so why should I have to be?

I didn’t care how many times I would get hurt. They ruined my life, and I was going to pay them back tenfold.

[beautyiswithinchaos]

Home

*** disclaimer: all new work is here @chaos-is-beautifvl ***

a/n: having a sad day so i decided to write something angsty but sweet to make myself feel better

this is with sojourn!michael because why not? anyway, enjoy my loves!

summary: broken souls can be mended when you find something like home (weird summary, but you get the gist ... well i hope you do)

word count: approx. 1.4K (she’s full of angst but w/ a happy ending)

---

“Y/N! Get over here!”

You let out a sigh, tossing down the dough you had been kneading. You made your way to the front of the restaurant to see your boss standing with the work schedule in his hands.

“Yes, sir?”

“I need you to work the night shift.”

You stared at him blankly. “What do you mean?” You had been the only employee pulling the weight lately, coming in earlier and staying later than usual.

“Angela has to leave early today.” He said, typing something on his computer. “And Bryan is sick.”

“No offense, sir, but I was supposed to be leaving early today since I’ve been staying so late.”

He turned to you, raising an eyebrow, “I thought you were an employee-“

“I am, but-“

He was quick to cut you off, “No buts. As an employee, whenever there’s an issue, you pick up the slack. Now, is there a problem?”

You opened your mouth before closing it in defeat. There was no reason to argue. “No, sir. No problems at all.”

I’m going to quit one of these days, you thought as you headed back to the kitchen.

---

It was near closing time, well, for you, that is. Everyone had left, and you were picking up the slack per usual. You might as well be promoted to manager with how you had been doing.

You were cleaning off the counter when the bell above the door rang. You sighed for the hundredth time that day as you went to pick up your notepad.

You stepped up to their table, pencil in hand, ready to take their order. “What can I get you?”

When the person didn’t answer, you lifted your head and had to hold in your shocked gasp. The man sitting in the booth was beautiful, to say the least. The thing that stood out to you, however, were the prominent purplish eyebags and cuts he sported on his face. His ocean blue eyes were bloodshot eyes and it looked like he had been crying for hours on end. His blonde hair was matted as if it hadn’t been washed in days, if not weeks.

You shook your head, silently berating yourself for staring, “Sir?”

He, too, seemed shaken from his reverie, turning to you with a sullen look. “Anything is fine.”

You nodded before turning on your heel and walking behind the counter. You wanted to ask if he was okay, but you didn’t want to intrude on his personal life.

You fixed him up a burger and fries along with a cup of water. The old woman, who took reservation at the counter, flashed you a smile when you came to pick up her empty plates before handing you a $10 tip for keeping the doors open so late.

Well, at least something good came out of today.

You made your way over to the man and set the food and drink down. Looking around, you took note of the fact you and him were the only people in the diner and sat down across from him.

“Hi.” Your voice was soft as you didn’t want to scare him. He didn’t say anything, eyes still downcast to the glossy tiles on the table.

“Do you want me to leave you alo-?” Before you could finish your question, he spoke.

“No.” His voice was raspy, probably from disuse. You nodded, settling back down in the booth.

“You should eat your food.” You said gently, pushing the plate over to him some.

“I don’t deserve to eat.”

“What do you mean?” You were confused. What happened to make him feel that way?

“My mother hates me, my grandmother killed herself because of me, the only person who cared about me was killed, and my father left me.”

You stared at him in shock. He had said it so… bluntly. You cleared your throat before speaking, “Wow... I’m sorry. I’m sorry that happened to you, but that doesn’t mean you don’t matter or that you should take care of yourself.”

He shrugged measly, body slumped in what looked like complete defeat. He looked so tired, so ready to give up on everything.

You bit your lip, contemplating what you were about to say. When you came to a conclusion, you looked over to him, “Why don’t you finish your food and maybe… only if you want to.” He raised his head, the light gone from his eyes.

“You could come home with me? I can let you take a warm shower. Maybe some comfy clothes? And a bed?”

He didn’t respond, only eyeing the glass of water in front of him. You looked down, shaking your head, “I’m sorry. That was inappropriate. I’ll- uh I’ll leave you alone now.”

“You can stay.”

And after that he didn’t say anything, only slowly eating his food and taking small sips of the water with trembling hands in between.

Once he was finished, you took the plate and cup into the kitchen before walking back out and shutting off the lights.

You came back over with the keys in hand. “Hey, you ready to go?” He nodded, standing up slowly, and that’s when you noticed the torn shirt on his body and the crooked, dirty tie on his neck. You walked him outside, turning to lock up.

On the drive to your apartment, he didn’t say anything, looking out the window with a distant look on his face. He looked so broken, and all you wanted to do was help him.

You dropped your keys for the third time, and a curse left your mouth. Hearing a huff of breath, you looked up to see a very tiny smile on his face.

Once you made it inside, you directed him to the bathroom, telling him that you’d find some spare clothes for him. You had never been happier to have a plethora of oversized shirts and baggy sweats.

The shower had stopped running a while ago, but he had never come out, so you knocked on the door softly. “Is everything okay?”

There was a muffled sound coming from inside. You placed your ear to the door and could hear quiet sniffling. “I’m going to come in, okay?”

Cracking open the door, you took in the sight of him hunched over, sitting on the floor, only wrapped in a towel. His shoulders shook as tears silently rolled down his face. You got on the floor beside him, wrapped your arms around his body, shushing him.

A few minutes had passed, and he had stopped crying. He looked over to you, eyes bloodshot, “Why am I not good enough?”

“You are good enough.” He shook his head, “No. No, I’m not. If I was, no one would leave time and time again.”

There was so much hurt in his voice. You grabbed his hand. “I’m sorry. I truly am. But you are good enough. And I know we just met a couple of hours ago, and I don’t even know your name, but I want to help you, help you not feel so… broken.”

There was silence for a bit before you gave him privacy to change. He came to your room, standing in the doorway. You smiled at him, patting your bed.

“You can sleep here. I’ll be on the couch if you need anything.” When you turned to leave, a hand shot out and grabbed yours. “Don’t leave. I don’t…” He looked down at the floor, “I don’t want to be alone.”

You climbed into bed with him, making sure to leave a good distance in case he didn’t like contact. The sound of the clock on the wall filled the room along with the sounds of a car passing by now and then.

“Michael.”

You turned on your side, facing him, his tired, blue eyes meeting yours. “What?”

“Michael,” he repeated. “That’s my name.”

“Hi, Michael. I’m Y/N.” He cracked a very tiny smile at your introduction. “Thank you.”

“No need to thank me. I just want to make you feel better.”

“I think I’m too broken for that,” he chuckled dryly. His face dropped as he averted his gaze, overcome with sadness.

“Being broken only means you’re not complete yet. All you have to do is find the right pieces.” You placed your hand on top of his under the blanket, “Just because you’re lost doesn’t mean you can’t find your way home.”

Just before he closed his eyes, he muttered under his breath:

“You’re starting to feel like home.”

—

a/n: all done! i just want to give him a hug and tell him everything will be alright 🥺