#never would have thought that's unnatural way to end call with a family member lol

[drysauce]

each day my roommate surprises me more and more with new things she finds weird in my habits or things i do lmao

[andrigyn]

A Swing in The Dark (Rewrite) Snippet

Ok so I’m posting this snippet to let everyone know that I am actually doing a rewrite lol <3

In Nesta’s former life as a human girl, she took advantage of every opportunity that being the daughter of a wealthy merchant afforded her. Invitations to lavish parties arrived by mail and ended up in a stack atop her mother’s desk, awaiting judgment. She took a keen interest in the social life of her first daughter, and began the search for her perfect match early. Before she fell ill, she knew best when it came to the who, what, and where of courting. To entertain too many suitors would have been disastrous for the family’s reputation, and the eldest child had the greatest duty towards protecting that reputation. Nesta’s time on the scene as a single lady would have also paved the way for Elain and Feyre, had things gone differently. 

Nesta never fussed much over the specifics, choosing instead to surrender to her mother’s well laid plans. But following the inner circle’s direction required an unnatural kind of submission. By their own design, she wasn’t a full member of their court. She was sometimes included in a half-assed way, if only to appease Feyre. Rhysand gritted his teeth and barely tolerated the eldest sister’s presence, which is why she was shocked to hear that the High Lord wished to meet with her. 

Cassian let her know over breakfast that morning training would have to be canceled so that she could go meet with Rhysand and Feyre in the river house. The male didn’t have an answer when she prodded him for more of an explanation. Azriel looked as puzzled as Nesta was, but if he was equally as curious to know what was going on, he didn’t utter a word about it. So after the trio finished eating, Cassian flew her down to the river house and led her through the winding corridors. 

“Well, here it is.” Cassian gestured to a dark wooden door. 

“If he plans on sending me back to the human lands after all, promise you’ll remember me fondly,” Nesta said. She twisted the brass knob and slipped inside before Cassian had a chance to respond, closing the door behind her. 

The room was quite large for a study, as was the desk that sat in its center. Light poured in through the tall windows to illuminate the space. Its walls were painted a shade of blue that resembled the night sky, but not much of the wall was visible behind the numerous paintings and bookshelves. She thought it looked awfully cluttered. Most unsettling of all was Rhysand seated there, with his gaze fixed on her. Those violet eyes were uncanny. Some may have thought them beautiful, but to Nesta it served as a reminder of how inhuman he was. 

“Sit,” he said. 

“Where is my sister? I thought she would be here.” 

“She is occupied. Some of us have responsibilities outside of playing soldier all day. Now, sit.” He waved his hand in front of the seat again, so she obliged. 

“I pretend to be a soldier, Feyre pretends to be a ruler. Have you decided yet which role Elain shall play?” 

“Keep my mate’s name out of your mouth. She and Elain are free to live as they please. You, however, haven’t earned that privilege. But that isn’t why I’ve called you here today.” 

“Get on with it then, what do you want from me?” Nesta asked. Her arms were crossed and she was making every effort to avoid eye contact with the male in front of her. She knew of his ability to shatter minds. That thought inspired a healthy level of fear, and suddenly the cluttered space started to feel more than just annoying. It was suffocating. 

“Eris Vanserra came to me, asking for help to kill his father so that he becomes High Lord. Our assassin cannot be just anybody, we must send someone who Beron wouldn’t perceive as a threat, someone he would allow to stay in his court,” Rhysand drawled, “Ideally a female who would travel to Autumn under the pretense of an engagement.”

“Why should I help you? I don’t care about your petty alliances.” 

Rhysand hunched over the desk and leaned in closer towards Nesta. She decided to meet his gaze, not wanting to appear as though she was backing down. 

This was a ridiculous plan that she wanted no part in. 

“Because someone must, Nesta. If you refuse, then my only other option is to send Elain, and do what should have been done a long time ago and banish you to the human lands.” 

Asshole. She wanted to punch that smug look right off of his face. She wanted to dangle him out of that window until he begged for mercy. The way he thought it appropriate to use Elain as a bargaining chip threatened to make her lose her cool. Everything that she gleaned about the Autumn Court indicated that it was a treacherous place, somewhere that was somehow more undeserving of her sister’s warmth and kindness than Velaris. 

“That will not be necessary. I will go, and once I return I want my freedom.”

Rhysand scoffed. “You’re in no position to make demands. Be grateful I don’t shatter your mind and tell your sisters that you ran away.” 

“Does Cassian know?” Nesta asked. 

“Of course he does.” His curt reply cut like a knife. Nesta considered briefly what it meant that Cassian knew of this plan, and chose not to warn her. She wasn’t sure why she expected his loyalty. It was naive of her, but that didn’t make it hurt any less. How meaningful could the handful of nights they shared together be to a male who was over five hundred years old? 

“Tell me what your plan is exactly, then,” Nesta said. 

“We will hold a ball in the Hewn City in a few days time, where the engagement will be announced. After that you’ll go to Autumn, and follow Eris’s orders,” Rhysand explained. Nesta only nodded in reply. 

“I am beyond grateful you’ve given me so much useful information, I’d hate to go into such a dangerous mission blindly,” she said flippantly. 

[mxvladdy]

Shake On It

This is an older original work I wrote for a writing prompt given to me on a writing discord I’m on. I really liked it!

Ironically it also pertains to the Christian mythos and such, but is in no way affiliated with Obey Me lmao 

Prompt:  traveling bible salesman, death of a family member and bouns round- a time machine.

Hope y’all like! I might add to this later on. I got a lot of fanfics and original projects I’m working on as it lol.

Down on your luck? At the end of your rope? Sister's funeral not going as planned?

We've all been there.

Perhaps I can offer you a hand? Promise it's worth it.

Thin smiles and fake condolences. It was all really one could expect under the circumstances, really. You and your sister hadn’t-well- weren’t the most well-received individuals on your family tree. But she deserved better than this, some stale flowers and a note. You had stormed from the viewing room near tears, the only two relatives who had shown looking after you. They had been less than tactful in saying that no one else was coming. Not even your parents were there. So, instead of watching over your twin’s ashes, you sat crying next to the funeral home's rusty dumpster.

How fitting.

Did no one care that familial blood had been spilt? A cold body and no leads and they just shrug it off? You sniff, lips trembling around an unlit cigarette, numb and lost as to what to do next.

“Need a light?” Reedy fingers flick out beneath your nose and pluck the stick from your slack lips.

You jerk your chin up in shock, more surprised that you hadn’t heard them approaching. “Oi!” Your eyes squint as they snap up toward the setting sun. Your uninvited visitor is perfectly shadowed by the low light. They tisk, ignoring you in favor of sniffing your cheap smoke before flicking it to the ground as if it had personally offended them.

“I swear,” they scoff, fumbling in their pockets. Their soft accent is unrecognizable to your ear. “On a day like this. You deserve better, no?” Their hand stops at their chest with a soft gasp. “Ah! Here we are, here we are!” The stranger’s silhouette produces something from an unseen pocket with a grant flourish, offering it out to you.

“A lolli?” You take it from them in a daze, twirling the bright yellow candy between your fingers. You eye them quizzically.  It seemed like an odd practice for a funeral home to do. You knew they hadn’t been at the wake. Their form was taller and lankier than the few guests or staff that had been milling about. Did they work in the back with the bodies, perhaps? Out on their 15? You eye their scuffed oxfords and old mud clinging to their khaki pants.

The stranger chuckles, an oddly deep one for their stature. “But of course! Better for you in the long run. Believe you me, lungs full of ash are quite unpleasant.” You stare blankly up at them. What? “Might I join you for a tick? You look like you could use some company.” They continue nodding their head toward the empty space beside you.

“Can’t stop you.” You sigh popping the sickly yellow lolli into your mouth. The flavor catches you off guard. Hands flying up flap uselessly at your burning cheeks. You gag, only swallowing down your initial shock. Chili and lemon? Who the hell…

“Shock to the system huh?” They laugh at your teary-eyed glare. “I find a bit of contrast clears the mind.”

“I guess.” You cough as you thump your chest hard. Wiping at your teary eyes, you get a better look at them. You were correct in your assumption that you had never seen this person till now.

They smile at you patiently, knowing exactly what you were doing. They seemed normal enough. Unkempt hair and thick glasses. Gangly knees draw close to their chest. A rumpled white button-up tent like on their frame. Sleeves pushed up to show off their knobby elbows. Their tawny skin was spattered with freckles, crossing from high cheekbone to high cheekbone. The freckles were interrupted in their smooth transition across their face by a jagged edge on the wide bridge of their nose. From a distance, the crook of their nose wouldn’t have been noticeable. But this close, you recognize the look of a break long since healed. Its off-centered placement only emphasizes their lopsided grin. Their teeth, though, are surprisingly flawless. Their canines flash predatorily off of the security lights as the sun finally sets.

“My condolences.” They cut through your musing, popping a candy in their mouth as well. “I assume you are part of the party inside?” You follow their pointed finger to the door.

“Yes.” You nod and readjust your posture, mind back on your sorrows. They hum noncommittally, finger tapping their nose deep in thought. “It’s my sister- was- my sister.” You explain. “Her landlord found her last week in her bathroom. Coroner says the wounds were self-inflicted.”

“You don’t believe it?”

“Not in a million years.” You scowl. You were gonna make it big together, if for no other reason than to thumb your noses at the family that threw you aside. Didn’t know how yet, but you thought you had all the time in the world to figure it out. “We had a plan. Leaving all our work unfinished? It isn’t like her.” They nod, letting the silence draw out between you. The cicadas filling the emptiness.

“What are you planning now?” they ask. The words tickle in your ear, temping thoughts you had long since buried. You knew what you wanted. You wanted revenge, to find and destroy whoever took her away from you. To take your family to task and prove to them that you both had been worth a damn.

“Therapy and a potted plant.” You lie easily, resting your back on the chain link fence. They laugh loudly head thrown back from the power of it. It grates at you.

“Oh, my dear~” They wipe at their eyes, chortling. “I haven’t had a laugh like that in a millennium.” They clear their throat after a bit, brushing at some imaginary dust on their arm. “No need to lie to me. Such peace is not in human nature.” You bristle, wanting to argue, but something holds your tongue. “Perhaps I might have what you seek?” They pull an old briefcase out from behind them. You gape, brows threatening to disappear into your hairline.

It all clicks, as sudden as a blown light bulb. The clothes and glasses. The aversion to smoking. The pushiness. Unbelievable. “You aren’t-no. No!” It was your turn to laugh, the sound bouncing around the back alley. “A freakin’ Bible salesman!?”   You lose it, slapping their knee while clutching your stomach and gasping in the sour air. “Oh my God! What, did you get lost on your way to a 60’s convention?”

“Yes, yes. It is quite out of vogue in these times, isn’t it? We had to take a more hands-on approach in recent years. The old lore just doesn’t hold up like it used to.” Their chuckle patting the case, thumbs popping the locks. “But I assure you my book is just what you need.” You stop laughing. A little nagging feeling in the back of your head finally starting to take over.

“Listen- with all due respect."

“Please,” they snap, their tone turning sharp and businesslike. “Lying just insults both of us here.” They hand you the case, nodding at you to open it. “Give it a look. I know you want to.” They lean close then, placing a hand on top of yours. The shadows of the overhead light elongate the digits. Candy sweet breath tickles the fine hairs on your face. “And if the book doesn’t entice you, perhaps a deal might?”

You pop the lid.

The sole occupant of the case lounges on an ornate cushion. The rich blue velvet is inlaid with silver thread and beads, the ornate geometric stitching painstakingly done by some poor sod years ago. Frankly, it looked like a lot of flash and theatrics for a rather ugly book. The leather bound cover is bereft of any discernible writing or art. Despite its apparent age, the paper within is crisp. It's bone white color contrasts harshly with the gold ink used on it.

“I can’t read this.” You look up confused by the random string of symbols and letters. The Bible salesman shrugs, picking at a cuticle.

“You sure? Try again.” Their nonchalant demeanor befuddles you.

“Yes, I’m sure. What kind of mor-'' You glance down at the book again, the leather warming in your palm despite the cool night air. The symbols are the same but it all seems so familiar to you now. Book of The Dawnstar.

“Is this a joke?” You already know the answer. The unnatural warmth and pulsing from the book bring the nerves in your stomach to a sickening curl, tipping you off. But, you don't want to say the word. Magic was a stupid fairy tale made for the big screen.

“Does it feel like a joke?” They ask, lips curling.

“What do you want?” You shut the book with a snap, placing it back in its case. You weren't liking where this was going, but were intrigued all the same.

“Well~ I thought it was self-explanatory.” They take the book back out, fingers going over the front’s cover in odd swirls and dips. Your eyes follow the trail left by their fingers. “Striking deals used to be so much easier, I swear.” They point at you, then at themselves. “I can feel the rage. It called me here. You want answers; more importantly to me, you want revenge. I can help. All you need to do is make a deal with me. You know the saying.”

“For-for real?” You can hardly believe it. This is a prank-or a fever dream. It’s the only explanation. No demon or devils, or stupid magic bullshit. Someone would find you soon, passed out from the stress back here.

“Dream or not, what would it hurt to try?”

“What would it hurt!” you laugh in disbelief. “You know in Bible school they say not to make deals with devils.”

“Pfft.” They wave off the comment. “I’m wounded! Half those fools get the language twisted anyway. Devil, Satan, and my name are not interchangeable . I’m not some low level sprite begging for souls.”

“Why come to me then?” you ask. They shrug, fingers slowing to a stop over their book. “Wouldn’t some--I don’t know--Christian soul be tastier or something?” You begin to panic. The look of exasperation you get in return stops you from losing it completely.

“Is that what they teach these days? Heh, Gabriel must be ringing his halo. But if those stupid little superstitions are whats stopping you from what we both know you desire, let me rectify that.” They rise to their feet, far more elegantly then their appearance would lead you to believe was possible. A haze covers them, the shadows around you seemingly clinging to their body as they turn. “A formal introduction then. Dawnstar, Lucifer. The light bringer, rebel, and protector of those under my eyes.” They bow, baggy clothes replaced with elegant robes of navy. All gangly awkwardness gone in the wake of sheer power. “And you are exactly the entertainment I’m looking for.”

“Entertainment?” You sputter, sinking back as far as you can into the fence behind you. You were sure if you should be insulted or not by the notion. “So you don’t want my soul?”  

Lucifer rolls two of their many eyes. “I have bigger, quite frankly purer souls, for that. But they are all rather boring to follow around till they croak. Besides, despite what sweet old pastor Dale says, I am empathetic--to a certain degree. You are right in your assumption that your twin did not take her own life. So I’m offering you a chance to meddle.”

You ponder over the words, mind racing as your spirit soars. This was impossible. “So I can-- what, like wish her back? A soul for a soul?” You rise to your feet, knees shaking as the heavy gaze of the fallen angel bares into you.

“Ugh. Figured you’d say something like that,” Lucifer groans, rolling their neck. “And the answer is no.”

“What? Why!” you snap, heart seizing. You jab a finger at their chest. The cold radiating off of them stops you from getting any closer. “You said you would help!”

They step back, smirking as you rub at your frostbitten finger. “Live and learn, I guess?” Lucifer turns, looking up into the bug-infested sky. “You humans always try that martyr shtick. ‘Oh, trade me for them, please!’. Turns into a never ending headache I’m contractually obligated to help with. Plus, it’s rather boring.”

You sputter. “Excuse me?” Lucifer looks at you, blinking coyly.

“When you’ve been around as long as I have, such clichés get grating every couple of centuries. You, my girl, just have the misfortune of being in one of those centuries. Try something more creative. Make me work for it.”

“Seriously?” You throw your hands up exasperatedly.

“As serious as your great aunt's coming heart attack.” They reply deadpan.

“Fine!” You purse your lips, not evening wanting to think about that last statement. “Help me prevent it.” You fume, all the little thoughts and wishes since the day you got the call boiling over. “I wanna look that fucker in the eyes before they can get to her. I want them to pay for even thinking they could take her from me!”

Lucifer grins, cold dead eyes warming over like coals on an open flame. “Oh yes, now that I will do. Time distortion is such a pain to undo. By the time they catch on, Michael will be up to their necks in timelines to untangle to get to you.” They unfurl a long clawed hand from beneath their robes. You see a symbol glowing, hot and white, on the skeletal palm. “Is that what you truly want?”

“Yes.” You nod, your throat clicking dryly as you approach them again. You hand inches from theirs before stopping. “Can you do that?”

Their smile is all teeth. “With ease. I look forward to watching the mess you make.”

[im-whatchamccallit]

Who Are You//Optional Bias

Requested: No

Pairing: Optional Bias x Reader

Genre: Barely fluff but also barely angst

Warning: Poorly written (I’ve never done an optional bias writing before and it was lowkey a struggle lol)

Words: 1.4k

Key: (Y/b/n) = Your bias name, (Y/b/s/n) = Your bias’ stage name, (Y/b/g) = Your bias group

(A/N: Idk if I’ll include this in the masterlist, mainly because I’d have to put it for each group, but I also might just because I’d feel unethical not doing it lol)

You anxiously smoothed your silk dress shirt before entering the café, eyes wandering to find a man fitting the vague description your friend gave you. ‘He’ll be in a grey shirt with kinda dark hair, unless he dyed it again, but you’ll know him when you see him. Just ask for Danny.’ You sighed, continuing to look around cautiously, not seeing anyone in grey or wildly colored hair and believing you’d been stood up, maybe because he got an equally ridiculous description as the one your friend gave you and didn’t bother looking.

You didn’t like the idea of blind dates. You’ve only ever heard horror stories of being introduced to a complete stranger with the descriptions given by their mutual friends exaggerated to peak interest. You weren’t afraid that your date wouldn’t be attractive or anything, you just didn’t want to end up in an uncomfortable situation with someone you’d never want to see again. But you’ve been single since your freshman year of college, and your friends have been begging you to get a love life for the sake of your (their) sanity. So here you were, scoping out the shop for a guy your roommate so desperately wanted you to meet, and still managing to come up short.

You were ready to leave until a plain grey t-shirt caught your eye, your eyes trailing to his obviously unnatural hair color and defined face. He was fucking gorgeous, but the fact he was sitting with someone else, laughing and taking sips from their drinks made you nervous that he wasn’t who you had to meet. But it wouldn’t hurt to ask, right? Worst case scenario, this beautiful stranger turns out to be someone else and you truly were stood up by Danny.

(Y/b/n) ran a hand through his hair while attempting to adjust the sweaty mess, finally getting a break from practice and trying to enjoy it with his group member who looked equally as disheveled. Faint footsteps were heard beside them before stopping just at their table in the very corner of the coffee shop, his eyes trailing up to see your nervous but kind face, a weird stutter interrupting his heartbeat as he took in your features. Being an idol he had to be reluctant on who he spoke to and interacted with, unsure of their intentions or if they’d be a danger to him, but as soon as you asked if he was Danny, he couldn’t help but say yes, knowing telling the truth would lead to him probably never seeing you again.

You smiled awkwardly and looked to his group member that only gave him a questioning look, trying to figure out who the hell was Danny and, more importantly, who the hell were you.

“I-I’m (Y/n), Ellie’s roommate. I should’ve brought her along if I knew you were with a friend, she’d probably find you cute.” You admitted, mentally screaming at yourself to not make things awkward, but “Danny” spoke up much to your relief.

“Oh no, we just ran into each other here and decided to catch up for a bit.” (Y/b/n) shot him a look, silently telling him to get out, his group member reluctantly agreeing before excusing himself, leaving the seat open for you to occupy.

“So, uhm, tell me about yourself. I heard you work in finance.” You started after a brief moment of silence, straightening your posture and smiling softly, trying to remain friendly and appealing to the hot guy staring at you with an intense gaze.

“Y-yeah, I’ve been doing finance for a few years now, right out of college. It’s honestly boring having to work alone with numbers all day, so thank you for taking an interest in meeting me and saving me from my boredom.” He had no clue about finance or the right terms to use to describe a job in finance, but watching you blush deeply at his final statement helped him ignore the anxiety of possibly being found out.

“But, anyways, what about you? Tell me everything about yourself.” He attempted to take the attention off of him, your eyes rolling upwards in thought as you tried to figure out where to start.

“Uhm, well, I’m the assistant manager at a department store, but I also create clothing at home to sell online.”

“So you’re a designer?” He asked in genuine interest, a more relaxed smile gracing your face this time.

“Yeah, it’s honestly my passion. I wanna expand into streetwear, but the material cost way too much. It’s pretty much the same for formal wear, but it’s what I’m best at and what my clients love.”

“Well, I’d love to have you dress me up one day.” An embarrassed laugh escaped both of you as the atmosphere became much more lighthearted.

You sat there for nearly an hour at this point, talking and learning about each other faster than you had with people you were in actual relationships with. “Danny” was perfect in every way. He maintained a profession he wasn’t crazy about but was enough to get him by in life while never forgetting about his real passion for music. He cared deeply for his friends and family, and was not afraid to embarrass himself with stories of his childhood whenever you became an bashful, red faced mess after one of his flirtatious remarks.

And (Y/b/n) was positive he was in love with you. The moment he learned you had given up television and social media because of stress and never returned, he felt a wave of relief wash over him. Not only because you wouldn’t recognize he was an idol, but because it gave him the opportunity to be personal and honest with you. From the questions you asked about “Danny”, he realized your friend was bad with giving info on people, but it worked in his favor, watching you slowly but surely fall for him from the actual facts of his life.

“We should go out again, maybe to that restaurant you said had “the world’s greatest pasta”.”(Y/b/n) stated, your eyes lighting up at the suggestion.

You were about to respond when the faint call of your name gained both yours and (Y/b/n)’s attention, your eyes falling on a tall and also very attractive man in a grey button down shirt with dark red, almost black, hair, a bouquet of flowers in his hands as he slowly approached your table, your body instinctively standing to meet him.

“Hello, do I know you?”

“I’m so sorry I’m late, I got caught up at work, but I’m Seunghoon, or Danny. Ellie calls me that so I assume that’s how she’d introduce me.” He said with a gently chuckle, your face unamused as you looked back to the first man in horror, your body growing cold yet your face hot, uncertain if you were angry or scared.

“So who are you?” You asked softly, wanting some explanation from the man you spent so much time exposing your life to, his eyes large and pleading as he tried to find some way to salvage this.

“You’re (Y/b/s/n) from (Y/b/g), right?” The real Danny asked, your brows furrowing in confusion trying to figure out who and what that was, Danny giving you an incredulous look.

“He’s an idol. Have you seriously never heard of him?”

Your eyes met the man now known as (Y/b/n), his lips moving to find spew some excuse to make you forgive him, but you could only ignore him and think about the red flags. The way he was so relieved when you mentioned you didn’t use social media for almost two years, the fact he tried to hide his face when a few girls nearby were staring, and the way he talked so passionately about performing but not about finance. You should’ve known better that people in finance didn’t give a damn about dancing.

You were hurt, it was written all over your face, you felt like your trust in everyone involved with this moment was gone. Not even a minute ago, you were staring at (Y/b/n) like he was the rarest gem in the world, like he was irreplaceable and you could do nothing but stay by his side and protect him. But he was nothing like you thought. He wasn’t a gem, he wasn’t irreplaceable or in need of protecting. And the fact he can make you believe that made you scared of what else he could have lied about. This situation was a disaster, and (Y/b/n) knew there was no fixing it.