#or rather a whole truck of twists

[l-in-the-light]

This, so much. I even wrote a joke about Oda struggling to bend Law to be the evil guy he planned him to be, but tbh I never found a source for that "Law was supposed to be evil" belief either. I had a feeling those are rumours, because I read some interviews and One Piece magazine translations, and this never came up. Heh.

But I have few extra thoughts here, and I'm gonna use this occassion to share :D

I think I get why this scene looks so different from the sketched one. It's because in the sketch Oda didn't incorporate yet Sanji and Law's dynamics. Those fleshed out as he was going. Sanji seems like he's cornering Law here, but it's actually not what's going on imo!

Because look at the scene in next chapter. They're all *worried* for Law. Sanji included. We know Sanji, he might pretend to be harsh towards guys and say he doesn't care, but *he always cares* and worries and protects people (Usopp, anyone?). That's why the scene from above isn't Sanji cornering Law just because he doesn't trust him and thinks he's up to no good. It's actually Sanji using the last possible moment to talk some sense into Law, because he thinks Law is losing their final goal from sight, getting too passionate about Doflamingo. He doesn't even care if Law has some hidden agenda. He says all of that because, yes, he is worried Law is gonna do something stupid and possibly die in the process (and was he wrong? No, he wasn't).

Why would Strawhats care for Law? This is just an alliance! I heard that argument so many times already. Yeah, but Luffy cares, and they know their captain pretty well so they will care as well, for his sake, if not for anything else. Besides Strawhats are actually a bunch of good people, so of course they will care, even for "strangers". Sanji also saved Kinemon who happens to be a dude, not a lady, and Sanji has no connection to him whatsoever. He simply does that because he cares for people.

And Law isn't so scheming and shady there like Oda planned in his original sketch, because Sanji's line also changed. Now he isn't confronting Law because he's distrustful but worried instead, and I think Law realized that. He recognized the worry coming from the blond guy always smoking a cigarette who also respected his dislike of bread and made onigiri especially for him at breakfast. We can say many things about Law, but not that he can't recognize care when he sees (and receives) it. And I could bet anything he looks so surprised there because someone reminding him slightly of his favourite Cora-san (blond, always smoking, caring) is worrying for him and asking him "are you not overfocusing on Doflamingo?"; that must have hit close to home. It's like Cora-san himself appeared in front of him and asked that question to Law, through Sanji.

But Law is a stubborn bastard and he wouldn't change his goal anyway.

Ok so sometimes I see people claiming Oda originally planned for Law to be evil. Did he actually say that? I can't find much on it

This and "Law is Oda's wife's favorite character" ROFL

Videos like this might've been the culprit behind this rumor. Law being 'named after a brutal pirate and allegedly had terrible rumors about him', doesn't equate to "Law was meant to be evil." No matter how canon-coded it seems, something can't be called a "fact" unless there's a legitimate reference. So far, Oda has made no such statement about Law.

The video used a draft image to back the point that Law was depicted as "scheming and manipulative" during Punk Hazard, taken from OP magazine vol. 8:

Sanji's dialogue, roughly: "Your strategy is to go head on against Doflamingo and Kaido, and to weaken Kaido's military strength, isn't it? And we're *in it together* because we believe the outcome benefits us, as well.

What are you planning?

I don't mind going ahead (to Zou), but I won't leave my friends in danger."

Law: Sharp at bargaining, aren't you...

It's not from Punk Hazard, it was Dressrosa.

Not to mention in both draft and finalized versions, it was Sanji cornering Law, not the other way around. IMHO it didn't add or subtract much from law's character as we already know him.

It's very likely that Law was planned to be (more) morally grey and manipulative. But inflating it as Oda's statement makes it a misinformation. This fandom sadly has a lot of these, thanks to engagement farming content creators.

[jakeotters]

scott x reader where they have insane sexual tension and everyone notices (and is fed up) but them so they keep forming elaborate plans to get them alone together

Next Time (scott miller x reader) part I - 18+ MDNI

warnings: sexual tension, swearing, scott being scott, not enemies but not friends to lovers, eventual kissing, eventual smut

a/n: i thought i’d put a twist on this request and make it a multi-part fic! i hope anon doesn’t mind that it’s not specifically the pov from the crew/other chasers but rather the tension filled journey between scott x reader :,)

my inbox is open for requests! rules for requests are on my pinned post :)

part two | part three (coming soon)

This wasn’t your first season chasing with Scott. You’d first met him at a little gas station in the middle Oklahoma. Scott’s rigid demeanor intimidated you, but your friend Javi had practically pushed you two together. Your first chase with Scott was tension filled and awkward, you could tell he didn’t exactly respect you.

That was 3 years ago, and now, you were more than used to Scott’s dull personality. The tension-filled relationship had only grown between the two of you, but neither of you cared to admit how you felt to each other.

“Which cell is it gonna be?”

You’re standing in a gas station parking lot, holding an iPad in front of Scott, a radar image pulled up on the screen. The rest of the Storm Par crew was dispersed around their vehicles and Javi was off somewhere, you assumed he’d gone to get snacks and drinks for the crew.

“You tell me.”

Scott’s answer was short and direct. You knew this game- he’d let you choose and then tell you that he thought otherwise.

“West.”

You inquired, your response just as short and direct as Scott’s.

“You sure? East looks better.”

Scott’s eyes met yours from under his sunglasses. You couldn’t see his eyes, but you knew they glistened with cockiness.

“I’m always sure.”

You rolled your eyes at him, putting the iPad at your side. Javi came running out of the gas station, plastic bags in his hands. He stopped to give bags to other members of the crew before making his way over to you and Scott.

“You guys want snacks?”

Javi held two bags in front of each of you.

You took a bag from him and peered inside— all of your favorites. You smiled.

“Thanks, Javi.”

Scott took the second bag and muttered something that sounded like a thank you before walking to your chase vehicle.

“Where are we headed?”

Javi asked, but you could tell he already knew the answer.

“West.”

You winked and smiled at him before turning and walking to the SUV.

—

“I’m tired of your little game, Scott.”

You broke the silence in the vehicle. It was a silence you’d gotten comfortable with, you knew Scott wasn’t one for small talk or casual conversations- especially with you.

“What game?”

Scott’s eyes were trained on the road in front of him, Javi’s truck not far in front of your SUV.

“The whole ‘East looks better’ bullshit.”

You adjusted in your seat. Typical of him to act like he didn’t know the way he treated you. You heard something that sounded like a scoff come from him.

You expected an arrogant response but it never came. You wondered if you’d caught him off guard with your declaration.

“It’s been 3 years, Scott. I can understand not liking me, but you should respect me. I think I’ve shown that I deserve that, at the very least.”

You knew you were venturing into dangerous territory by the way his jaw clenched and his eyes narrowed. But, you were almost eager to push his buttons- to tell him everything you’d bitten back for 3 years. You wanted to be mean to him, drill the words into him and break him down like the times he’d broken you down for making simple mistakes.

Again, no response. You wondered if he was doing this on purpose, making you sit in his silence while he plotted how he was going to pull you aside and belittle you after the chase.

“I don’t dislike you.”

After a few minutes, his words cut through the silence. Your mind did a full stop.

“What?”

“I don’t dislike you.”

Scott repeated. His eyes darted to you for a second before returning to the road. The words cut through you. Everything you’d ever assumed he thought about you had just been squashed.

The familiar silence returned. You weren’t sure what to say, or even what to think. You stared at the yellow lines that split the road into two lanes. It felt like they went on forever.

—

“Hey, good job today. Sorry we didn’t get anything.”

Javi handed you the key card to your room. The two of you stood in the parking lot of a cheap motel. The rest of Storm Par had either gone to their rooms or were dispersed throughout the lot, talking with other chasers or cleaning out their vehicles.

“Oh well. There’s always next time.”

You managed a half smile. Sure, you were disappointed, but you were tired and ready to be away from everyone.

“Yeah- well, goodnight. See you tomorrow.”

Javi smiled, patting your shoulder before walking off. You almost felt bad for keeping the conversation short but you were glad to be left alone. You started walking to your room, ready to be in the warmth of a bed.

“Hey.”

You heard a voice behind you. You swore you let out a curse under your breath before turning around. Scott was standing there, clipboard resting under his arm.

“What?”

The word came out harsher than you’d meant for it to but you didn’t care. This was supposed to be your time, you just wanted to be away from him.

“East looked better.”

You stood there. You bit your tongue, holding back the long line of curses that threatened to spill from your lips.

“You followed me over here to tell me that?”

You managed, turning to walk away from him. You wanted to be away from him.

“Not so fast.”

He caught your arm with his hand.

“You aren’t always sure.”

Asshole, you thought. You knew he was doing this on purpose, this was just another one of his ways of giving you shit, but you weren’t in the mood.

“Fuck off.”

You shrugged out of his grasp.

“Why? Is there somewhere you need to be?”

Scott tilted his head, crossing his arms in front of his chest, clipboard resting under them.

“Yeah, there is. Away from you.”

You spat, walking away from him again.

Scott watched you walk away for a moment before following you.

“I said I don’t dislike you. This is what I get for that?”

You scoffed.

“Then why do you treat me like shit?”

Scott shrugged.

“Because it’s fun.”

You stopped at the door to your room and turned towards him again. His arms were back to his sides. You were almost too tired to care about what he was saying.

“I see. Goodnight.”

Sarcasm dripped from your voice. You turned to put the key card in the lock. You opened the door and slammed it shut, leaving Scott standing outside like a dog on your doorstep.

You quickly changed clothes and climbed into bed. The softness of the sheets and warmth of the blankets instantly relaxed you. You closed your eyes, enjoying the peacefulness.

—

You didn’t know how long it had been before there was a knock at your door. You ignored it. There was another. You opened your eyes. Sighing, you turned on the bedside lamp and got up. You unlocked the door, not even bothering to see who was there before you did. Opening it, you felt every ounce of peace fade away.

Scott stood there in his black undershirt and a pair of sweatpants, a plastic bag in his hand. His curls hung in the low light of the hallway. It was rare you saw him in anything other than his white Storm Par button up and perfectly ironed pants. You hated to admit that he looked good.

“Wanted to give this to you.”

He extended the bag towards you. You blinked at him. Maybe if you blinked enough, he’d go away.

“Take it.”

Scott held up the bag. Wanting him to go away, you took it from him. You pushed the door shut when his hand stopped it, pushing it back open.

“Where’s my thank you?”

He raised an eyebrow.

“Thanks.”

You rolled your eyes and shut the door.

You opened the bag. A few of your favorite snacks were inside, along with a note. Curious, you picked up the note.

There’s always next time.

- Scott

“Asshole.”

You said out loud, putting the note back in the bag and throwing the bag on the table by the door. You climbed back into bed and turned off the lamp. You closed your eyes again, sleep finding you not long after.

[lovebugism]

first time having sex with eddie pleasepleaseplease

bug's blurb sleepover (���˃ᴗ˂⁎)! 18+

The first time you and Eddie have sex, he gives you a paper ring.

It’s made of the delicate wrappings of a straw. He’d gotten it for his drink at the diner, ripped off the end of it, and blew it square in your face, then laughed when you tried to do the same to him.

You couldn’t get the trajectory quite right, though, and decided to count your losses.

When he retrieves the pieces of forlorn trash from your end of the table and twirls it around in his hand, you figure he’s just fiddling with it. That it’s some absentminded thing he’s doing because his mind is always so preoccupied with one thing or another. Then he reaches for your hand across the table and takes hold of your left hand. 

Your fingertips are ice-cold, he finds, from where they’d been clutching the ribbed glass of your milkshake. He holds onto them anyway, and slips the twisted piece of paper onto your fourth finger. It’s tied at the top like a ribbon with a large knot at the center like a ring. 

You don’t realize the sentiment in it at first. You think it’s some party trick, like tying a cherry stem with your tongue or making a paper crane out of a napkin. 

Then Eddie smiles at you, a big, dumb, and sparkling grin — “Let Henderson try to make fun of us now, sweetheart. It’s finally official.”

Your eyes widen at the realization. 

Eddie used to call you his wife as a joke. It started as a way to get free meals at fancy restaurants you couldn’t afford. Then he saw how it made you blush and he did it just to make you laugh. It became a habit he couldn’t break sometime thereafter. The rest of Hellfire teased him to no end about the whole thing.

But it’s official now, or so he says. And you know it’s not real, not entirely, but suddenly you’re sad that it isn’t. 

Eddie steals your milkshake and lifts the lip of the glass to his mouth rather than use the straw. He smears whipped cream all over the tip of his nose and his cupid’s bow. You realize you can’t imagine spending your life with anyone else.

The thought doesn’t scare you as much as you thought it would. And you know that you’re just a couple of kids who don’t know a single damn thing about the world, but you know that yours would be so empty without Eddie in it.

You keep the ring on the rest of your lunch and flaunt it like it’s the real thing. It may not be made of metal with a too big diamond at the center, but the sentiment feels the same.

He takes you back to the trailer a little while later. Eddie makes sure to tell you how pretty you look sitting in the passenger seat of his van while he goes a world over the speed limit. You scold him for not paying attention and he blames you for distracting him.

Wayne’s truck is gone from the drive when you get to Forest Hills. It’s the first time you’ve had the trailer to yourselves and the realization sends a sick feeling swirling in the pit of your stomach — an elation, an apprehension, a shiver of anticipation.

And things weren’t tense exactly, nothing between you and Eddie was ever tense, but it was a foreign edge of a different kind. Things were unusually charged, like, sexually. It was just the thought of having the place to yourselves, of what couples usually did when they were alone. It left the both of you silently stewing over whether or not to take advantage of it all.

But you manage to keep things fairly innocent despite the distant, lingering libido that purrs like a roused sleeping dragon in the backs of your mind. 

The post-lunch fatigue hits the both of you like a ton of bricks, and you peel off what little you’d put on for your short trip to the diner most innocently. In nothing but oversized t-shirts and less than sexy underwear, you crawl into his bed and slip off to sleep without thinking.

That, coincidentally, is when things bubbled over.

You wake first some hours later. The setting sun has started to coat Eddie’s bedroom in various shades of orange You rise only because of the way the boy shifts behind you, sliding his hips over your back and gripping your waist with his fingers only for them to go lax a moment or so later. 

He tangles himself with you and it’s all perfectly normal. Eddie tends to shift in his sleep and the only way he can ever be content, it seems, is when he’s holding you like a teddy bear.

What isn’t normal, though, is the very apparent erection nudging at your lower back. 

“Eds…” you murmur, voice still groggy and heavy with exhaustion despite your alarm.

The boy, still half asleep and unknowing of the brick in his pants, mumbles back a lazy “hm?” 

He shifts again as he becomes more aware of his surroundings. It isn’t until his sensitive cock brushes against you that he notices how alarmingly hard he’d gotten in his sleep. He tenses, utterly mortified, before he feels you rock back against him. 

It’s intentional this time, knowing, and it lessens his fear but certainly not his hunger.

You press yourself further into him and twist your neck to look over at him. With tired eyes and heavy mouths, he shifts over you and catches your lips in a kiss. It’s lazy and slow, simmering with a cozy warmth. It doesn’t take either of you very long to wake up.

He presses a hand to your shoulder and rolls you onto your back, propping himself on his elbows to rest his weight on top of you. In your adjustment, lies a five-second pause that manages to feel like a moment’s blink in time and an eternity all at once. It’s as blissful as it is terrifying, the moment just before the kiss, the feeling when you know it’s about to happen.

Your eyes dart between his darker ones in a silent question. Eddie answers it with a searing kiss.

His knuckles brush against your buzzing skin as he strips you from the top you wear. You lift your hips to remove your panties after, while he rises to remove his own shirt. He tugs it up and over his pale torso, spotted with patches of hair on his chest and belly and fading tattoos.

“This was bound to happen, huh?” he jokes with a grin.

You bite back your own wide smile that threatens to take over your mouth and watch with twinkling eyes as he maneuvers his boxers down his legs without standing up. His hard cock bounces to his stomach, grateful to have been released from its confines. It glows an angry red at the tip.

“Are you complaining?” you retort playfully as he leans back over you again — both of you fully naked, bare chest pressed to bare chest.

The ends of Eddie’s hair tickle your jaw as he shakes his head. “Hell, no I’m not complaining, sweetheart.”

Lust swallows the two of you whole and blankets the room in a heavy heat. It’s all tongue and teeth and scorching touches. You flip yourself over for him suddenly, pressing your face into his pillow, and leaving the rest of you perfectly on display for him. 

Eddie is all too happy to admire the view as he takes you. His eyes remained locked on your ass, trained on the way you swallow his cock and how you meet his unpracticed thrusts with ease and diligence. His nervous hands are nearly numb where they clutch the dip of your waist. 

You peek over your shoulder at him, a playful and eager glint in your eye. Your smile widens when one of his hands lifts to swat your outer thigh. 

He was no stranger to this position — doggy style. In fact, the few girls he had fucked before you, he’d taken this way. But none of them were girlfriends. They were one-night stands from The Hideout or girls who used him to pass the time. He never minded how impersonal it felt before now. Because even with his cock nestled within you, closer than he could possibly be to you, the distance still feels like too much.

The breathless moans you exhale into the pillow cease when his hips still.

“Could you—  Can you, uh… Can you roll over?” he stammers, chest heaving as he tries to catch his breath.

As lame as he feels in his request, you comply without thinking. 

You feel empty when he pulls out of you, warm again when he gets you on your back and looms over you again. You don’t mind when he presses his weight into you. Instead, you pull him somehow closer, catching him by his jaw to pull him into a devouring kiss that has him chasing you back into the pillows.

Your legs hook around his waist, keeping him locked into you though you writhe something fierce beneath him. Your hips roll with each of his unhurried thrusts, exhaling heavily against his mouth every time he presses into you.

“Eddie…” you breathe through lusted pants. “Please. I need… Need more.”

He doesn’t know why you’re begging. He’s never denied you of anything before. He doesn’t plan on starting now. Eddie wants to give you everything you want all the time — even when he doesn’t exactly know how to.

He ruts his hips harder than he had been before, with a pace far quicker than the relaxed thrusts he’d been given you. And it becomes obvious how greatly he’d undermined his strength when his pelvis presses into you and drives you up the bed. The crown of your head meets the wall with a dull thunk that echoes through the quiet, golden room.

Eddie stills immediately, blanching and gaping in fear.

“Ow,” you whine lowly, then laugh at yourself and him and the situation entire. 

You let Eddie cradle the back of your head as his fingers dance through the strands of your hair, rubbing gently at the sore spot of your skull. “Not that much, Eds…”

It makes him feel like a fumbling virgin all over again.

“Sorry,” he apologizes, wincing for you. He presses a sheepish kiss to the tip of your nose, rubbing the buzzing skin of your waist with the hand not pillowing the crown of your head. 

You’re healed instantaneously by all of the softness of touch.

“It’s okay,” you promise with a distant smile. “I asked for it.”

After your assurance (and then some), Eddie gets back into the swing of things. Distantly, he’s still terrified of hurting you again, but he gets so drunk on the praises that spill so effortlessly from your mouth to care. 

Your honeyed words are entwined with moans of his name and fragile whimpers as you near your peak. It catapults Eddie to his own orgasm. When you come, you do it with your fingers wrapped in the umber strands of his wild hair. Your walls flutter and tighten around his cock and your hands tug at his curly strands, hard — it drags him down right along with you.

He tenses and stills against you, whining and whimpering with his eyes squeezed shut. He fights to keep himself from bucking too wildly against you while you milk him and moan his name like it’s some prayer. You drive him crazy without even trying, reduce him to a puddle of nothingness with ease.

He flops less than gracefully beside you all over again, pale chest heaving with uneven breaths and curls clinging to his sweating forehead. The two of you fight to catch your breath.

You’re not looking at him. Your eyes have long fluttered shut as you revel in the aftermath of your orgasm, feeling like you’re not all there. A lazy smile pulls at the corners of your mouth and you exhale sharply, stuttering breaths in the place of a laugh. 

He can’t take his eyes off of you. You look ethereal and filthy, a heavenly being and a succubus from hell. He’s amazed by you, confounded at how an angel like you could wind up in his bed like this, somehow more in love with you than he had been just minutes before.

“I’m gonna marry you one day,” he promises out of the blue, voice heavy and far away from himself. 

And Eddie so often speaks candidly. He’s honest to a fault, saying things he knows he probably shouldn’t — but that? That catches even him off guard. 

But you don’t seem all that surprised by his words. They make you laugh, actually, eyes squinting and nose crinkling when you finally peek over at him.

Eddie’s still too far gone to laugh with you, but the corners of his lips quirky slightly.

“I thought we already were.”

You lift your left hand to remind him of the ring he’d tied to your finger just hours ago. The paper has slackened around the joint. The knot isn’t as tight as it had been before, hanging loosely at the knuckle. The edges are frayed and ripping in some places. But it’s still there.

And when it tears completely, he’ll make you another. And another. And another.

Until he can replace it with the real thing.

[fluffypotatey]

evil swk only it's him finally fed up with everyone hurting mk so he kills the latest villain of the week and takes the powers of the Jade Emperor for his own thus: Monster (epic)

oops, hands slipped!

He meets MK on accident. Sun Wukong does not make it his ordeal to wander where mortals are near, but sometimes needs must. his little Suns have chosen to pester him about this specific brand of chips (how they ever got their hands on a bag of chips in the first place is a mystery of itself), so after hours of twisting his arm, Wukong obeyed their pleading cries and whines.

the accident came when Wukong found himself run over by a meager delivery cart. the boy, probably only two decades old, hopped off his death kart immediately, apologies spilling from his lips while Wukong debated throwing his disguise down the gutter and raising this whole block to the ground.

“—you have to understand! The Megapolis Grand Prix has a grand prize of an immortal peach and I thought I could both race and deliver, you know, kill two birds with one stone and all that but—“

“I don’t really care, kid.”

The mortal was quick to shut his mouth and nodded. Another apology was thrown out while Wukong dusted off the spare dirt from his clothes, and he was pretty sure the mortal made sure to follow him back to the safety of the sidewalk. It was a little overbearing, but Wukong was trying to keep a low profile for the sake of a stupid bag of chips. He would rather not bring Heaven or any other celestial’s attention to himself.

The things he did for his monkeys.

-

He met MK again on New Years. Again, his little Suns sent his out for a task— apparently, some idiot decided to teach them what noodles were and Wuking spent months suffering while they bemoaned and cried about it.

There was a plaza full of food trucks, so Wukong figured he’d find noodles over there somehow.

“Oh! It’s you!”

Wukong was startled by the smile, how it spread wide, so easily like a trained soldier (except soldiers were more fixed and lacked the warmth this smile gave). The mortal stood behind one of the windows of a truck, apron tied around him.

Wukong grunted put a hello.

“Can I get you anything?”

“Eight helpings of noodles.”

“Wow, that’s quite the haul! Got a party or something?”

“More like a family of rascals.”

The mortal laughed, quickly writing down the order before placing somewhere near the kitchen. There followed some indignant shouting about the order while the mortal— MK, the cool called him MK— placated and answered all the cook’s questions.

“It’ll be ready in an hour? Maybe longer.”

-

The third time, he found MK through his monkeys. A mortal, they had chirped at him, a mortal on the beach! Color him surprised when it was his mortal he found. How he got past the volcanic mountains was something he figured MK would tell him when he woke up.

And, boy, did he ever.

MK told Wukong of his old sworn brother, the Demon Bull King, and the would-be Spider Queen. Two demons who found it in their heads that Megapolis was their city, and neither were keen on sharing. And both seemed to believe that their solution was a secret weapon hidden in Wukong’s vault.

“And we thought— my friends and I— that if we found it first, then they wouldn’t be able to.”

It was a hilarious story. One Wukong made sure to laugh at in MK’s face. Because really, why would either demon think they had the balls to invade his island?

“I’m serious! We need to find it now or else they’ll—“

“Tell me, MK,” Wukong spoke, keeping a bright smile on his face. It was different from the ones MK would share. Less genuine and more senile. “How much do you truly know about me?”

Finding the terror in the mortal’s eyes shouldn’t have been endearing, but Wukong would argue that after receiving plenty, he was open to judge them all. While MK was slow on the uptake on who he was talking to, he was a quick learner in figuring out just how dangerous Wukong could be.

In the end, neither of the demons stepped foot on his island. And if he had to twist their arms a little to ensure there would be no future attempts of them sneaking in, that was between Wukong and them. The fact that a little delivery boy was included in that clause was neither here nor there.

-

The fourth time was when Azure made his appearance on Wukong’s island, smiling and laughing as if none of the past millennia had ever happened. Wukong played a good host to his old brother even while his skin crawled and his little Suns whined. But that all came to pause when out of Azure’s scroll came MK and more of his old brothers.

“So you used him,” he asked, eyes closely watching the mortal shake and tremble (he was mumbling something too but Azure was speaking too loudly).

“We needed someone on the inside in order to retrieve the rest of our brothers. With all of us here and reunited, we can finally put Heaven in their place!”

Wukong tilted his head. “What of the Bull King?”

He watched MK flinch when Azure scoffed, the mortal clutching his robes tighter. He was still in shock, but it would not last long. The new buzz of magic told him as much.

“He has forsaken the cause.” There seemed to be more but MK finally cracked.

“You said we’d free my friends.”

Wukong raised a brow, watching Azure’s careful sigh and friendly smile.

“And we will, but there is something I must do first. You have to understand?”

MK shook his head. “You promised. I’d go in the scroll and free my friends. You said you’d help me—“

“And I will, MK.”

“No you won’t.”

All eyes faced Wukong. He saw as Peng rolled their eyes, ever the dramatic one, but Wukong chose to ignore him.

“Azure is too set on his goal of overthrowing the Emperor that no other task will matter until that endeavor is complete.”

“And we will complete it. Wukong, you are not one to be so glum.”

“A lot has changed.”

“So much that you would turn your back once more to us?”

Wukong watched as MK’s eyes pleaded at him.

“I would.”

-

Given that he was the last one in possession of the missing memory scroll, the Diyu was quick to point their fingers on Wukong and claim MK as his accomplice. How they came to that conclusion was, quite frankly, insane and stupid of them. Wukong told them as much while they placed him on trial.

“And yet there is no other living soul we can find.”

“Well, duh,” he sniffed, keeping MK behind him at all costs, “I killed them all.”

“So you could have it for yourself?”

“Because they threatened my subjects.”

This one king was starting to get on his nerves. All his questions seemed posed to specifically point all attention on MK and Wukong refused to bring any attention to him. He’s not blind, there was obviously something mystical with the mortal. What exactly, he wasn’t sure. He could just hear Macaque lecturing him about it. As if that shadow monkey knew anything! He just spent most of his time trying to steal the attention of Wukong’s subjects like the asshole he was!

“And so why was this mortal involved?”

Again, the same king. He was a strange one, his magic not exactly the same as the others. Wukong was not liking the look of him.

And it turned out his instincts were right. As the trial continued and he asked more questions, the King began to call MK the harbinger, a title MK seemed to recognize and freeze at.

But in the end, none of their words held any good defense. Not that Wukong expected anything different. In fact, he was excited for it. Both the Diyu and Heaven have dreamed of shackling him down once again ever since his first havoc. So, when the chains came to shackle MK as well, Wukong felt he was excused enough to start a little mayhem.

Or a lot.

Actually, a lot, a lot.

It was only a pleasant occurance that Heaven chose to bring Wukong up to their realm and place him before the Emperor. And if said Emperor threatened to erase MK out of punishment of Wukong’s behavior?

Well.

Who is to say that Wukong is not excused from cutting that old goat down to size?

[tangent101]

Have we gotten Rachel wrong this whole time?

There are plenty of theories about Rachel Amber in the LiS community. Some folks like to think of her as a manipulator who only was out for herself. We have others who think she was deep in love with Chloe and would never cheat on her and everything she did was to get her and Chloe out of Arcadia Bay. It seems like everyone looks at Rachel and sees something new. But… what if we were all wrong? What if Rachel was something else… someone who tried avoiding conflict by talking to people and agreeing with them… and thus everyone saw her as they wanted to see her?

There is actually some evidence toward this in the game. First, Chloe herself points this out, though in a way that is perhaps less than flattering: "She blended like a chameleon. Clearly more than I knew… or wanted to know…." People take this as to Rachel was able to see what makes a person tick and just become the person that someone else wanted… but we can see several people who had a rather negative view of Rachel. So what is it about those people that had a negative viewpoint of Rachel?

First, we have David Madsen, who detested Rachel and saw her as a bad influence and a criminal. He was investigating Rachel and had photographs he felt were of her being a drug mule. Next, we had a truck driver who talked about Rachel really wanting to get out of town. And of course there is Mark Jefferson who also had a… twisted view of Rachel, though it also seems Rachel was so enthralled by Jefferson that she may have been sleeping with him (and both Stella and Victoria seem to be interested in what's going on in Jefferson's pants as well, though I'm not sure why, he's not that charming).

The truth is that Rachel was something other than a manipulative gold-digger or the like. She were a teenage girl who disliked conflict and was adept at listening to people and when talking to them would agree with them? I mean, consider her two breakup letters, one to Frank and one to Chloe? Rachel so wanted to avoid conflict that she left a letter to Frank because he scared her. She did not want a fight. She wanted out. So she left… with a note basically giving her reasons and essentially ending things. (Frank thankfully accepted that.)

Chloe also got a letter. Honestly… given it was all crumpled up, I half-wonder if Chloe had read it while high one time and crumpled it up and forgot about it afterward. But we have a very important line here: I don't want you to hate me. I don't want you to hate me. That's a very interesting thing to say. There is no deliberate malice, this is someone who has found someone else who just rings all those bells but wants to keep the friend aspect. She still wants the laughter, the moments of sharing a glance and both having the same thought, the things she envisions friends do… but to walk away from the sensual intimacy.

Remember what Victoria Chase said to Max in the Dark Room, that she was just a teenage girl? That's Rachel. Rachel Amber was not a seductress or a narcissist or a monster. She was a teenage girl who was avoiding conflict in her life, but in doing so ended up in a shallow grave in a junkyard. Because quiet girls don't make history… they end up used, abused, and discarded. They end up on the rooftops willing to throw themselves to their deaths because no one would listen to them. They end up abandoned because they were not good enough, because they ultimately were not willing to stand up to those who would use them.

Max, before Chloe reentered her life, was one of those quiet girls who ends up used and discarded. The reason folks keep seeing Rachel in Max is because Rachel stayed quiet and let people make up their own minds about her. And they saw in her what they wanted.

Or at least, it's one way to interpret Rachel Amber.

[hils79]

Hils Watches Lovely Runner - Ep 16

Can't believe I'm at the end already. I forget that althought kdrama episodes are long there's a lot less of them

Of course he escaped. This dude really is like the terminator

Going under the cut because I don't want to spoil the ending

Well in a twist of irony he got hit by a truck and knocked into the river, which is what he did to Im Sol before this drama even started. I'm assuming he's not coming back from this and the rest of the drama will be about Im Sol and Sunjae sorting out their relationship

Oh. I thought that was going to take longer. There's still over an hour left to go on the episode!

They are so damn cute I can't deal with it

Poor Taesung. While Im Sol and Sunjae are snuggling and being adorable he's all beaten up and feels bad that someone died that he was chasing. He's a good boy. I want him to be happy.

Sunjae: I want to buy cake for my perfect girlfriend but no one can so we're dating so I'll just buy cake for everyone. I'm so smart.

I love him

I love that he's acting all cool but we all know what a nerd he is

I don't care how sweet and handsome he is if someone started pokling me while I was trying to write that laptop would be coming down on his head

Like that

I was going to use my usual congrats on the sex gif but they are still fully clothed so I guess they just snuggled

Yeah, I'm glad that they're all happy and in love now but I think they both have a ton of trauma that they probably need to work through at some point

I love that even Im Sol joking about them being married made Sunjae's brain go offline

Made his brain go offline and made him decide that actually, yes, he does want to marry her. LOL I can't wait to see how this conversation goes

I love Taesung so much

Aww they have to get drunk and bond in every timeline

I know they're a band rather an an idol group but imagine being at a baby's birthday party and BTS or someone like that shows up to perform

I love grandma so much

Yeah, I'm, crying too

He had his 5 minutes of being a cool celebrity and now he's back to being a dork again

I'm really glad they haven't gone down the route of 'she has the man she loves and that's all she needs for her happy ending'. Look at her being awesome as a movie director. Love it!

Heh that looks very similar to the software I used to when I tried to learn video editing. Ironically I decided it was too time consuming as a hobby so I decided to do gifmaking instead which is just as time consuming

Aww yay! I really enjoyed this! I don't watch a whole lot of het romance dramas but I'm really glad I watched this one. I absolutely loved it!

[wexhappyxfew]

Also! 29 on OTP dialogue for Annie and Brady?

HI JAMIEEEE!!! thank you so much for this other prompt as well!!! sorry it took a bit to get to! :) i must say, this idea swirled in my head for a bit and then, when i felt things in writing were finally going the way i wanted them to, i felt ready to post this!! thank you again!!!! :D

a little while longer

(a/n): for the annie x brady girlies, with a mix of angst and fluff all at once!!! to say the least, these two have my whole heart and just !!!!!! there was an anon awhile back talking about brady freaking out if he ever saw annie injured or wounded in the slightest way - and well....here ya go! prompt: don't lie to me. i was there.

The soup was probably the best thing she could've had in that moment - despite what little warmth this place provided, the soup was sure to give her enough strength to keep her going. She'd been up most of the night with a nasty, wheezing cough, her nose running and her throat sore as all get-out. Now, with her stomach feeling sour, nose run red from the amount of times she'd wiped it, she felt like she'd been drug behind a truck and tried standing again. But, for now, this little bowl of soup was making her incredibly happy.

Annie looked up and towards where Brady was, sat taking up spoonful after spoonful of soup himself, getting every last bit her possibly could. She had to admit, she was worried about him more often than not - because he spent the majority of his time worrying about her, especially in the past few days. So seeing him eat his fill and focus on himself, settled her for the time being.

"Guys. Guys!" yelling started down the hallway, along with a banging all along the wooden walls of this sad excuse for barracks. Annie met Buck's eyes from beside her at the table and watched as everyone in the tiny bunk room looked towards the doorway to find Benny DeMarco racing in, eyes wide and bloodshot as he made an attempt to catch his breath.

"What is it, Benny?" Bucky said, pushing up from where he leaned against a bunk, forgetting about his soup and focused on the rather frantic nature of Benny there in front of them. Benny took a minute to catch his breath and then pointed outside.

"They got a new group comin' in. Margie may be in that group. We gotta go look." he said quickly, before disappearing again out the door. Annie watched that now-empty doorway and slowly turned to meet Kennedy and Bessie's eyes - there was something unspoken between the three of them that the boys hadn't entirely clued into or focused on. But coming in as a woman was one thing; having survived that level of interrogation was another.

Margie had to.

She had to be in that group.

She was more hopeful than half of them combined.

"Let's go." Annie said, moving to her feet, buttoning her coat and wrapped that scarf around her neck, "C'mon." She was the first out the door, hurrying down the hall, a few echoing footsteps behind her as she pushed outside and attempted to seek out Benny in the crowd. She caught sight of his beanie, and began, rather slowly, moving through the open area towards the gates.

As she got closer, she watched, as if in shaky, frantic real-time capture, as Benny moved along the fence, yelling out, over and over again, before tearing around the edge of the wiring and disappearing into the crowd.

Annie felt her face grow cold and stoic, her shoulders pressed high, her chin pointed up. Her heart pounded as she turned around the edge of the gate and found Benny there on the ground, pulling a rather fragile looking, collapsed, corpse of Margie Harlowe on the ground, her face bloodied, her clothing practically hanging off of her form, and her one shoulder looking twisted in all the wrong places. Then, standing over them, was whom she could only assume as one of the German soldiers who had been begrudgingly dragging Margie along.

This was one of her girls, her flight engineer; bright, sunny Margie, with that beautiful blonde hair that was now all haphazard angles around her shoulders, bright blue eyes that were red and filled with tears and beautiful rosy cheeks that were scarred and bloodied.

Annie slowly looked up at the German who stood silent and still, overtop where Margie was half alive in Benny's arms, her cries weak and pained, Benny's comfort only doing so much to erase the pain of reality.

Annie couldn't take it anymore.

She took three, wide steps forward right into the German's face, without much thought for her own self and stared up at him, her body rigid, her eyes narrowed.

"She's already half-dead," Annie practically spat out, "did you really have to drag her in the dirt like a dying dog!" Any sort of celebration and welcoming immediately went quiet as people turned to look at the female lieutenant who was currently losing it on one of the Germans. Annie's throat tightened.

"How can you just stand there!" Annie managed out again, but she knew she had messed up long before she even had opened her mouth. She should've stayed with her soup, let Benny handle all this. But she couldn't. This was one of her girls, this was Margie Harlowe.

Without warning, the German had grabbed her by the shoulders and swung her around him right into the dirt, her body hitting the ground with a rough whimper, her eyes closing at the pain shooting through her body.

"Annie, don't," came Margie's quiet cry.

"Don't touch her." Benny said, his voice drowned out by the sudden kick of the German's booted foot into Annie's side. She curled into a ball with a strangled cry, tears squeaking out of her eyes, her body begging for some sort of reprieve that wasn't this.

When the German had stepped away, angrily spitting down on her, she heard yelling and a commotion somewhere behind her, which was enough to make her sit up, weakly at that, looking past Benny and Margie in his arms and a few stragglers hanging about.

There, just past them, was Brady, screaming and yelling, being held back by Bucky and Murphy as best as they could hold him, Brady's eyes dead set on the German officer who walked away casually and calmly. Annie turned her quivering eyes to Brady again and watched as he broke free of the bodies holding him back and stomped across the open bit of land, taking his hands on the front of the Germans uniform and slamming him against the rusty wiring, yelling, over and over.

"Don't you dare fucking touch her again!" Brady yelled, his voice sounding like a wild animal's, guttural and raw, as the German yelled back, "Don't lie to me. I was there! I saw you hit her! Don't touch her again!" It didn't take long for the German officer to yell something in German, before swinging at Brady, sending him to the ground.

The brawl turned into a power struggle, the German kicking and punching Brady there on the ground, Brady all but weakened and defenseless. Finally, the two were separated and bodies were left behind and the few groupings that had been out were left behind by the Germans, only watched by guards in the towers. Annie watched as Bucky helped Brady to his feet, Brady struggling to find his footing, before ignoring any possible help, as he ambled over to Annie.

"Annie." he managed out, his voice sounding weak as he collapsed on the ground beside her, his hands reaching forward - he was always reaching for her, they always were with one another - and placing themselves against her cheeks, his thumbs rubbing in circles, "He should've never have hit you. I swear to fucking-"

"John." Annie whispered, slowly bringing her hands to his own cheeks, "You've gotta calm down."

"Not when they hit you, Annie. He did it because he-"

"John." she managed out again, "I'm okay. It's…..Margie." Brady watched her and some sort of realization seemed to hit him. He knew how important the women of Silver Bullets were to her, beyond anything, beyond even herself.

Slowly, the two looked over to Margie there, wrapped in Benny's arms, those tears running down her bloodied cheeks, grasping onto Benny like it was her lifeline. Annie managed to pull herself to her feet, Brady beside her, their hands linking to one another for some sort of support, before she fell to the ground in front of Benny and Margie, her hands shaking as she reached forward. Margie flinched at Annie's touch, her eyes immediately welling with tears - what could they have done to you?

"Hey, Margie, it's me." Annie whispered, reaching her hand forward and softly cupping the girl's cheek, brushing her thumb over her pink, wounded skin, "You're okay." Margie looked up at her with those water-filled blue eyes and let out a croaky cry, reaching up a free hand to lay gently against Annie's hand and nodded.

"I can't believe….I found…you all." Margie managed out, "Benny saw me first……I didn't want anyone to get hurt." Benny let out a quiet, wet laugh, as if holding in any tears he was trying not to shed. Annie looked to Brady, whose face had grown soft and gentle. Brady watched Annie, his face full of love and adoration, that same look she'd gotten the privilege of seeing anytime he watched her.

"You didn't have to go beat up any Germans, Brady." Margie managed out, her hand still grasping Annie's tightly, "You're too kind." The three of them laughed again at Margie's words, before Annie's eyes filled with tears and Margie seemed to notice.

"Don't cry, Bradshaw, I'm still here." Margie said softly, "Look at me."

"I thought you were dead," Annie managed out, her throat filled with emotion, "I should've looked for you….tried to get you to safety-"

"Don't go saying that, Bradshaw," Margie managed out, before letting out a wet, rattling cough, "I got to see Brady beat up a German for a bit. It was worth it."

"I promise it felt just as good as it looked." Brady said quietly.

"Don't give yourself that much credit." Benny offered and the group fell into small bits of laughter again.

By the time they'd gotten Margie up and in the comforting arms of Benny and Bucky who had come racing over like a bat out of hell, Annie had turned to Brady, looking at him bathed in cold sunshine, his face more stressed and sunken in these days, but still the Brady from that first day on base. They watched one another and she smiled slightly, reaching up to run a finger beside the cut near his eyebrow.

"Let me help you dress that," she whispered quietly, her hand cradling his cheek, as he watched her, "thank you for doing that." Brady clenched his jaw.

"He shouldn't have even touched you."

"I shouldn't have gotten in his face. I shouldn't have said a word-"

"You did the right thing, Annie, I know that. They gotta have a little humanity in this place."

"There's barely an ounce of that here." she whispered, voice sorrowful and sad. Brady watched her, before bringing up a hand to clasp around her one against his cheek. For a second, it looked like Brady was going to say something else, but he bit his tongue and continued to watch her instead.

"Does your chest hurt?" he whispered to her, "I'll help you wrap it. I'll scrounge some bandage."

"Only a little," she whispered back, "I'm more worried about your chest. He hit you pretty hard." Brady smiled softly at her and stepped forward, cradling her face in his hands, his beautiful eyes on her own.

"Let me take care of you." he whispered to her, "Let me hold you, just a little while longer." Annie stared up at him and flitted her eyes across his face and lips, before settling on that scar again.

"Only if you let me wrap up your chest." she whispered back to him.

"Only if I can wrap yours." he said back. She stared at him and then smiled softly, nodding, "Is it tender?"

"I'll be okay." she whispered, "You know that."

"I know." Brady whispered, "Sometimes I just….." Annie watched him, her big eyes holding him in her gaze, watching as he watched her back, their emotions hitting a head.

"What?" Annie asked quietly, her voice hidden it felt by the sweeping winds this place had. Brady couldn't get his eyes off her it felt, and like it were the most delicate thing in the world, he pulled her into his arms, probably the warmest hug she'd had since arriving here, and stayed like that. Her heart raced in his embrace and as he pulled back, she looked up into his face right in front of her and licked her lips. The corner of his mouth lifted upwards and she felt her body shiver. Something pulled her closer, she wanted to be closer than they already had been.

"Hey!" Brady and Annie seemed to bounce apart, and they turned to find Bucky walking closer, all smug, hands in his pockets, "We're gonna get Margie comfortable."

"Right." Annie said, stepping back and smoothing out her normally, crumpled clothes, catching Brady's eyes for a second and then pushing her hair behind her ears, "Let's go." She hurried away, towards where Benny was still walking with Margie, as Bucky came to Brady's side. Brady stared at Bucky, who smirked and clapped his shoulder.

"What?"

"Nothing, nothing," Bucky said, "quite the dragon slayer though, huh."

"Shut up."

"You tell her yet?"

"Shut up, Bucky."

[semthescientist]

In moments like these, you wish not to be saved. When your back is pressed firmly to the metal wall of a cargo truck, lips puffy and wet, and cunt full and stretched — you wish nothing more than for the city of Ergastulum to lay claim to you in the way Nicolas does. When his hips retreat briefly and snap forward with powerful thrusts, you're convinced that the tingling sensation settling deep within your bones is the last few ounces of innocence leaving your system.

The rigid, pulsing veins of his cock glide against your sugary walls; earning the most guttural groans from the Twilight. There is something so primal and animalistic in the way he takes you; whole and unapologetic. The way his thick cock splits you apart, heavy balls tightening with each precise thrust. He likes it like this, and you know. Even through your bleary vision, you can see the corner of his lips curl into a wicked grin — dark orbs fixated on the sticky covering that coats his shaft. This very fact makes your head spin while Nicolas' forceful exhales become all too deafening.

"Nicolas," you mewl out. "I really can't."

Nicolas can sense the shattered vibrations of your voice which gently guides his gaze from the mess in between your legs to your love-bitten lips. His thrusts are slow in effort to read your lips, and after he does, he decides that you can. He doesn't communicate this to you through words expressed in his uneven voice but rather his quickened strokes and same twisted smile. Thick forearms hooked under your pliable thighs and his climax approaching ever-so closely, Nicolas marvels at the idea of making you his personal fucktoy. Seeing you this way, breasts spilling from your thin pathetic t-shirt and eyes screwed shut as he mercilessly drills into your needy cunt — he decides you wouldn't be opposed to the idea.

Before the city was truly up, Nicolas was already spilling thick, white ropes of his seed deep within you. Before the city could birth more criminals and lowlives, you were already itching to become one.

[vaultdamned]

@mayormentats

THE OCEAN ABOVE IS BLACK, dressing the towering man with a coat made of night. footsteps traverse along the rotted ground, his shadow following behind like an obedient ghost. the silence is familiar; an old friend listening to the solemn rhythm of vincent’s heart beating inside his chest, unchanging in the air of loneliness some 200 years later. however, this particular loneliness fairs differently. self-inflicted, rather than forced. 

he tightens his grip against hancock’s freshly washed clothes, folded neatly & cradled by the weight of his forearm. blood still painted the fabric, splotches sized like pin-pricks; an effort made in vain, as no matter how much fluid could be scrubbed away, the reminder remained within the squint of an eye. 

mass pike tunnel e looms ahead, skyscrapers stretching high against the rubble, watching over the graveyard of cars — the phantom beeping of horns, panicking for evacuation, mimicks the echo of a piano player's notes from miles away. the past entertains the darkness as vincent continues forth, allowing the parade of memories to float on by like an unpleasant odor. mushroom clouds. radiated sulfur. sweat. 

the warehouse manifests out of thin air, a projection of reality outside vincent’s tunnel vision. he stops, standing beside a once bright yellow, now decrepit truck. hancock’s warning lingers in the back of his mind. don’t fuck with the lock. fine — but, part of him thinks he could break in no problem. most locks had a master system, & this one probably wasn’t any different – what a sight to see. vincent settled as hancock enters the space, finding his warehouse infiltrated, an all knowing, shit-eating grin greeting him from across the room. maybe even right inside the door.

No.

hancock’s tone turned serious at the mention of waiting. vincent’s wrist burned, remembering the pressure of hancock’s grab & the impression he’d left as he slapped that note into vincent’s palm,.the immortal man's breathing hitched in just that split second, caught off guard & distracted by the smell of cigarette smoke — which damn, why did he forget his smokes?

he flicks his head to the left, then the right, spotting a train car; its backside just inches off the track. he retrieves his knife as he paces forward, opening the side door with anticipation for an enemy, but it’s empty, save for a lone chair & a patch of stained wood. he holsters his blade. takes the seat. lays the clothes against the floor. leans forward, meeting his elbows to his knees. no way anyone would follow him out here, still, he wasn’t exactly on marowski’s goodside, especially after insulting his shitty handywork which nearly got vincent killed by the mayor of goodneighbor – or so vincent spun, leaving out many, many details -- details that held a power over him he could only relay as, haunting.

minutes pass & still he’s left to his own company, hiding inside a traincar. it’s expected, isn’t it? why would hancock give him any more than necessary of his deserved time? what gave vincent that right? bringing the clothes felt ridiculous now. this whole thing — god, he should have packed up & left when he had the chance, & there were plenty of them, still he stayed. couldn’t be hancock’s sake. perhaps for his own revenge? freedom from marowski? some deeply misunderstood alliance between himself & a betrayed friend? 

none of these harbored enough life; the reason was always selfish. 

the distinct jingle of keys alerts him. vincent twists his head up, his whole body lifting as if he’s tied to a rope that’s actively being pulled, then he grabs the clothes & inches closer to the edge of the traincar, peeking his head out, his brown curls brushing against the doorway. he’s spying on the earth, watching the front of the warehouse, waiting for his turn to appear like a rabbit out of a magic hat.

[hobisstar]

What are you hiding from love?| Yandere!Jk x Reader IV

This will be short! But chapter V will be worth it I promise!

Summary: Being in a relationship with Jungkook you’ve always noticed the signs, the red flags if you will. Being so in love with him you ignored them, until the people you loved dearly started disappearing one by one.

Warnings: Murder, Jungkook victim blaming ( like he will say i killed you because you are too stupid or whatever), Possessiveness, Mentions of Smut, Controlling, Locking up YN.

Taglist: vante 🫶🏾

A/N: This is made to be scary! That is all. I honestly dont like mixing smut with yandere because i read yandere fics to be spooked not horny lol. This one will be simple as for the last part of the series will be more … horror ish?

Ever since the window incident, Jungkook has been feeling shitty to say the least.

He’s not enough for her and he knows that.

He hates to say it but he thinks it’s time to officially let her leave.

She was willing to brutally hurt herself to get away from him. She would rather die than love him.

Of course he’s doing this for her sake. He loves her too much to see her die or something worst than death.

While Yn was in the bathroom showering, Jungkook was packing her things. He already bought her a brand new apartment, which wasn’t too far from Jin. He knows Jin was going to keep her in safe hands and cause he’s the only person he trusted to ever be around yn.

She got out the bathroom fully clothed and froze when she saw plenty of bags and boxes packed nicely. Some empty some ready to be taped. Were they moving? She questioned.

Jungkook as if a psychic, he looked at her and smiled tiredly.

He hasn’t slept in a few days just up and thinking. “ No, we aren’t moving but you are.” He tried not to tear up he truly did but damn why did she have to taunt him with her life.

“I can’t have you…” he mumbled feeling the tears drop from his eyes. “ so… I have to let you go. I’ll feel better knowing that you aren’t with me.”

Yn was shocked yes but boy she really didn’t expect him to actually let her go.

It’s not that she wanted to stay, but she knew there had to be a catch to it. Why was he giving in so easily?

“ Jin will be coming to get you in a few hours once he gets off work…” he whipped his tears and turned to continue packing her things.

“ I’ll feel better if your with him to keep you safe.”

Yes, He wasn’t lying. He is going to let her go. But not just that easily.

He knows that If she’s alone she’ll be so lonely she would crawl back to him. She will want him back forgetting about all the things he did to those people who dared be in her presence.

“Thank you.” She blurted out which caused him to nod.

“I’m in over my head” is what Jungkook kept saying to himself while him and Jin loaded his truck with her things.

yn sat in the front seat shaking from excitement but also fear. Something just wasn’t right.

She could practically smell that something about this whole thing was just… fishy.

While in her thought process, The guys loaded the last thing up closing the trunk. Jungkook walked over to her side of the car looking at her eagerly.

yn was so deep in her on thoughts she didn’t see Jungkook standing in front of her. Didn’t even feel the vehicle start up and back out the parking lot driving away.

“She’s gone…” Jungkook said standing there lost. “ and she didn’t even say goodbye…”

He walked back into the apartment building going to the elevator and then getting off onto his floor then into his now empty apartment.

It wasn’t really empty but it felt empty. The one who kept it so warm was gone. Now it was cold.

Him and bam both looked sad honestly. Well, Bam looked like Bam. But Jungkook? Something twisted and turned in him.

Something pure demented. Evil.

He thought over and over again. He’d stop hurting others but without his reasoning to staying so clean, he had every reason to go torture someone…

“ I wonder what her sister is up to…” he mumbled staring off into space imagining how nice it would be to just hurt yns sweet but dumb sister.

He never liked her sister or any of her family. Hell her contact has the name ‘ No One’. He never cared for her.

He always imagined killing her then blaming it on that wack ass boyfriend of hers.

He smiled. The smile that he hasn’t seem to do since before he met yn.

Whatever he was about to do… it was good. 

[hermesserpent-stuff]

spoilers for caged spade au remy and rogue meet!!!!!

romance is something Im reallllllllllyyy not good at so here's my best meet cute i can manage!

Remy bounces a little as he stands in line. He knows that he is a little too excited for this book release. But he had been reading Austin Jaques, a famous gothic writer, for years and had been ecstatic to hear that his latest novel would be set in New Orleans. He is excited to compare what the writer has to say about vampires to what he now knows to be true from living in the graveyard of a holy coven. And to see if his beloved city is represented correctly. He had convinced Creed to let him join the line while the man when off to get hot chocolate. Which is a little nice. He normally loves having Creed right there as back up, but sometimes it is a little nice to be separated and get some breathing room.

He can still feel Creed through the empathic link, the man currently feeling a mix of amusement and boredom. Must be taking a while for a reason. 

Remy tilts his head a little, adjusting his sunglasses as he looks about. The girl in front of him shifts a bit head turning to the side to watch a truck go down the road and then she rubs her arms. Oh. shes pretty. And it looks like she had come alone to the event. Remy shifts a little awkwardly on his feet and then decides to bite the bullet. He wants to talk to more people and talking to a pretty mademoiselle is worth his time. Now… what to say, something not too intrusive but easy to spring a conversation from.

“Excuse me miss?”

Her shoulders tense as she turns and he can see the stance of a fighter coming through. Not obvious to everyone, but obvious to anyone who had experience. He makes a small waving motion while smiling and tilting his head, trying to show how little of a threat he is to her.

“I love your earrings, mademoiselle.” 

“Oh, uh, thanks! I got them a week ago.”

She touches the crescent moon that is hanging low from her left ear. 

“They go well with your boots.”

“Thanks.”

She smiles a bit at the additional complement, fight stance fading slightly. 

“So, Austin Jaques, good writer, non? Got a favorite book in the series?”

Only people who enjoyed the man's writing would be willing to stand in line alone, so it should be a safe question.

“Oh, uh yeah. Midnight Heist. It was a really good plot. The twist was really well done. You?”

Remy nods. That book had a good twist that was perfectly set up so that rereads made it even stronger. 

“That ones definitely top ten. I really enjoy Moon Stones. Dealing with the horror of all your falures to create as an artist coming back as monstrocities was interesting.”

She nods. They chat back and forth and shift to be standing side by side in the line rather than infront and behind.

“Im Rogue by the way.”

“Remy! Nice to meet you.”

They move on from talking about the books to sharing favorite songs and texting recommendations back and forth to be listened to in full later. Remy barely registers that he got her number, so wrapped up in talking to her and trying to keep that smile that makes her whole face light up right going. 

Then Creed returns and Remy happily greets him. He sees Rogue tense and Creed sniffs the air. Remy grabs his arm and pats it.

“This is Creed, hes my papa.”

No one else could claim that title now. Creed straightens a little and Remy relizes that he might never have said that allowed before. Remy feels joy swirling across the link and grins.

“Creed, this is Rogue! My new friend.”

Creed looks her up and down and then nods. 

“Hi. Dont mess with my pack and I won't mess with yours.”

“Yeah? You gonna stick to that?”i

Remy frowns and shoots her a look.

“Hey, there be no need for this. We all peacefully in line. Creed, she been real nice to me so far. And Rogue, this is my family… We can all be okay? Oui?”

He feels a tinge of desperation, his heart starting to beat louder. Creed chuffs and nuzzles the side of his head. 

“Yeah yeah. Not gonna do nothin’ kitten.”

He passes Remy the hot chocolate and after a second, gives the other to Rogue, a peace offering that seems to work.

[frracturedjaw]

Hi ! I was wondering if you could do either Thomas or Bo, with the prompt of the reader being hurt by a victim ?

warning(s): vomit, minor blood, brief canon-typical violence

a/n: bo does all the wrong things to care for a concussed person. i know this goes without saying with slasher fanfic but don’t do what this guy does

the bat collides with your skull, and color explodes behind your eyes. your head is void of thought, only something molten hot remaining inside. it might be dripping out of your nose. you whip around and grab the weapon with both hands, wrenching it out of the guy’s grip. the neon signs behind him are blinding, even though you know they’ve been getting dimmer for decades. he reaches to take it back, but you drive the end of it into his body. it hits ribs; not quite what you were going for. but he stumbles backwards nonetheless, giving you the second you need to flip the bat around and grip it properly. it sails down from overhead and cracks sharply against his trunk, folding him to the ground. you twist to check over your shoulder and almost go down next to him, your vision throbbing and tilting with the movement.

“Bo?” it comes out slow. you try again: “Bo, you here?”

“Yeah, ‘m comin’.” he calls from a nearby storefront. he’s still got that quiver of agitation in his voice. usually you’d let him cool off for a while after dealing with the tourists, especially a slippery bunch like these last few. but you’re struggling to get your eyes to focus, now. you squat and use the bat to prop yourself upright, waiting for him to drag another corpse into the street. you’re suddenly aware that the hot liquid dripping down your neck is blood, rather than sweat. then you’re on the ground. grit embeds itself into your bruised skin, and you can hear it crunching underfoot somewhere near your head. Bo’s face appears over yours, framed by the night sky and those insufferable neons. his hair slick with sweat, he looks downright handsome in this light. “you’re so pretty, Bo.”

“I asked if you’re okay.” Bo replies. you can only guess he’d been talking since you hit the ground. “get up, i’m takin’ you back to the house.”

you turn your head and curl up tight against the cold. and then it is dark.

Bo doesn’t panic. that’s not his thing. he gets angry, he throws shit, kills people, but he doesn’t panic. not up until now, at least. not until he sees your eyes roll back, the blood running in the crevices of your eyelids. his body’s in sharp, shrieking pain the whole time he’s yanking you off the ground and heaving you into the truck. but he can hardly feel it, with how fast his blood is thundering in his ears. he knows he won’t cry, not out in the open like this, but his chest is twisting in that awful, desperate way and won’t stop. he’s talking nonstop the whole way back. partly for you, partly for himself.

“we’re only a few minutes out. Vince should be waiting for us. I can get Lester up here, too. we could have him run out to town n’ get you something nice. some a’ that candy you like. getcha settled in bed, somethin’ cold to drink. i’ll find that shirt a’ mine you like. put on the tv. anything you want.” he goes on and on, as if he can convince you to wake up if he offers enough.

Vincent had been helpful getting the bleeding to stop, but Bo insists on attending to everything else. he keeps finding blankets from around the house, wiping off your face and hands, touching your forehead. he isn’t even sure what he’s looking for. he’s never really had to learn to care for a concussion. finally, he perches himself in a chair by the foot of the bed — his bed, he won’t have you anywhere else — and puts his head in his hands.

he can’t get the twisting to stop. the burning, sinking, nausea that hadn’t relented since you first passed out. what if you started bleeding again? what if you stopped breathing? what if you simply didn’t wake up? what was he to do then? he feels the knot crawl up into his throat, threatening a sob. he wants to tear it out of his body and crush it in his hands. he wants to feel its strength peter out between his palms, to destroy that part of him. he wants to break it. he wants to break anything. he wants you to wake up.

the sky goes from deep violet to the fiery pink of sunrise, and his eyes don’t leave you. his glare is frosted with sleeplessness, and he almost doesn’t notice when you wake.

a low whine crawls it’s way out of you, catching on dry throat and grit teeth. you barely get upright before you fling yourself to the edge of the bed to vomit, heaving dryly.

“hey! whoa, hey!” he calls out in surprise. he crawls up the bed towards you, smoothing his palm up and down your back. concern creases his face as you cough out the last of what was left in your stomach.

“g’morning.” you warble, peeking sideways at him. the movement of your eyes feels grating, and makes you gag again. his laughter surprises him.

“good morning to you, too, sunshine.” he replies, wiping your mouth on his sleeve. you wince and lean away when he touches the back of your head. “just let me get a look.” you groan when his fingers skim your scalp, and he can’t help but frown at the gnarled scab forming there. he should clean it, he thinks. he’s not sure how. he’s not sure if he should give you food and water or not. he feels something in his chest flex uncomfortably.

“m’tired, bo.” you murmur through your teeth. over your shoulder, he sees a tear drip from your chin.

“i know,” he sighs. “i wanna get you cleaned up. you’re gonna worry me to death, lookin’ the way you do.”

you can’t recall how he got you into the bathtub. all you know is how pleasant the cool tile feels against your skin. someone’s hand cupping over your brow as water flows over your head. quiet murmuring and sharp men’s soap smell. you’re struggling to decide if it’s sandalwood or something else, and then you’re gone again.

he has difficulty trying to get you into clean underwear, and opts for a pair of his boxers instead. he spends some time digging through the laundry scattered around, searching for the shirt. he has to swipe some dog fur off the front when he finally finds it. he’s not sure why you like it so much; it smells strongly of himself in a way that never quite washes out. it’s so old that he can’t remember where he got it from. it might have been from some old rock band, but the graphic is so worn it’s illegible. but he helps you lift your arms over your head and slip it on nonetheless.

you still don’t look right. your face is pallid and pulled into a subconscious frown. he grasps at his chest without knowing exactly what for. Bo had gotten used to the feeling of being in control.

[fandom-junk-drawer]

The Witcher Headcanon (Modern Au) - Error 404 Brain Not Found: Bonus Scene - Part 14

Geralt and Jaskier shuffled through the back door, arms loaded with bags of sodas. They headed straight for the kitchen and began unpacking.

It was D&D night, so Yennefer might not have thought twice about the large quantity of drinks they were hauling in. But there were two little details that set warning bells off in her head.

1. Geralt had already gone out two days earlier and bought drinks and snacks for their weekly game night. 2. Every single soda in the bags was Sprite. Both Geralt and Jaskier favored colas, and Eskel was the only one of the Witchers that preferred Sprite. What where they doing with all that Sprite?

Something asinine this way comes. Yennefer thought to herself as she eyed the men suspiciously from the kitchen doorway. Jaskier was openly smiling at her, eyes glowing merrily. Geralt was avoiding looking at her all together.

Dumbf**kery was definitely afoot.

"You want to play with us?" Jaskier asked excitedly, "We're going to do The Sprite Challenge!"

"The what--?" Before Yennefer could finish asking her question, Jaskier opened a bottle of soda and downed the whole thing in one go, pausing only to breathe and give the carbonation burn time to fade. Then he stood there expectantly.

Mentally trying to regain her footing, Yennefer glanced at Geralt. The Witcher was watching Jaskier excitedly.

The seconds ticked by.

Feeling as if she was supposed to give some sort of commentary, Yennefer said, "Er, congratulations? You drank an entire bottle of Sprite all--!"

The rest of what Yennefer said was drowned out by the almighty belch that erupted from Jaskier. It was long, loud, and carried the faint scent of lemon-lime. Geralt and Jaskier laughing ecstatically, gave each other a celebratory high-five.

What the h*ll, a girl had to have fun sometimes. Yennefer gave up trying to be the mature one, and joined her two idiots, cheering them on and recording the proceedings.

"Your turn, big guy!" Jaskier announced. Geralt nodded, twisted the top off a Sprite, and chugged it. The liquid swirled in a little tornado as it disapeared down Geralt's throat. There was a moment of silence, before Geralt made a noise like a Skellige fog horn.

Guffaws erupted, and the process was repeated, with time in between for stomachs and bladders to empty. While they waited for the next round, Jaskier and Geralt took turns trying to belch their names and various obscenities.

Geralt and Jaskier: * chug Sprite*

Jaskier: *bear with a bellyache*

Geralt: *Semi truck engine braking*

Jaskier: *sound like someone ripping a***

Geralt: *goose honk*

Jaskier: *sound like a toilet unclogging*

Yennefer decided to give it a try herself. Jaskier and Geralt cheered her on as she downed her soda. Seconds later, she opened her mouth and out came a string of garbled noises that sounded like the syllables of the blackest magic spell ever spoken.

"Holy f**k!" Jaskier laughed, tears streaming down his cheeks.

"Did you just curse someone?" Geralt chortled.

"Was it just me, or did you see snakes come out of her boots and a black cloud swirl around her?"

"Oh, f**k you both!" Yennefer grumbled.

"I'd rather *garbled burp* a nekker!" Jaskier retorted.

"That's not much of an insult, considering you'd f**k anything with a hole in it!"

Jaskier: *affronted gasp*

"Scr*bber!"

"B*llend!"

"M*ngebag!"

"A*semonger!"

Geralt decided to intervene before the tit-for-tat escalated. The Witcher chugged a Sprite, tossed the bottle aside, and assumed the belching position. The distraction worked, and Yennefer and Jaskier forgot about their bantering and waited with bated breath.

Geralt grimaced, and then *dying humpback whale noises*

The three of them immediately lost their sh*t. They howled maniacally, holding their sides and leaning on whatever surface was close by.

Laughing on a belly full of carbonated liquid turned out to be risky business.

Geralt and Jaskier both laughed so hard they spewed.

One minute Yennefer was laughing at the ridiculous noise Geralt had made, and the next, her laughter turned to exclamations of surprised disgust. Puke fountained onto the floor as Geralt and Jaskier chucked whiteys. It rolled and splattered, and Yennefer was just doing her best to get the h*ll out of the way.

The vomiting petered out, turning to dry heaves before stopping. Yennefer helped them to the living room, settling them on the couches, then went back to the kitchen to clean up the mess.

She was not one to use magic for mundane things that she could do herself, but this time, she made an exception. She was not going to clean up this mess by hand. She spelled the kitchen clean with a wave of her hand, then returned to the living room and her two dumba**es.

She knew their stomachs were probably feeling a bit queasy, so she cheerfully offered them something to help.

"Here, have some Sprite, it will settle your stomachs!"

*Symphony of groans*

[sirduck48]

*is wearing a trench coat, fedora, sunglasses, and mustache* psst! hey kid? you want some Sir Handel headcanons?

-In my human AU, every time Duncan goes to practice his electric guitar, or listen to his Led Zeppelin or AC/DC albums, Sir Handel suddenly needs to do a project that requires the power to be shut off.

-He gets very offended if Gordon refers to him as "mini me", but it's fine if Peter Sam calls him a "mini Gordon"

-there was this whole incident where Paxton couldn't work at the quarry, so he had Diesel take his place, Diesel then decided to try and take over the Skarloey railway but it backfired horribly, first he had to put up with Sir Handel's tantrums,

(diesel: will you stop whining!?

Sir handel: you want whining? I'll give you whining! it's too hot! I'm too tired! you're shunting the trucks wrong! you're too mean! the trucks are too heavy!)

-Diesel then decided to try the same tactics he used with Duck by spreading rumors that Sir Handel was speaking bad about the other engines. when he told this to the rest of the narrow gauge engines, they went "yep, that sounds like sir Handel alright, he tends to do that, except his insults are way more creative than that." and not even care.

-Diesel then changed his story so it was Duncan being the one to talk badly about the narrow gauge engines, and they were just like, "yeah no, if Duncan were to speak badly about us, he would've said it to our faces."

-then diesel tried to pit the others against Rusty, but that backfire horribly and the whole thing ended with Diesel being terrorized by Duncan, and being backed into a corner by said Duncan, and somehow dragged halfway up the incline.

-my OC No. 2456 despises Sir Handel for no reason other than his name starts with a "sir", ergo Sir Handel is an aristocrat, No. 2456 hates aristocrats because in their mind, they started ww1. and they're a trench loco so...

needless to say Sir Handel is rather offended by this.

*points to my open palm* "I'll take all of the Sir Handel headcanons you have if you please" (this goes for everyone who has Sir Handel headcanons by the way).

•Plot twist, this is Peter Sam. Sir Handel sneaks in and listens to Duncan's albums. The two rock out together, but Sir Handel hurries off the minute anyone comes along.

•To me, Sir Handel cares deeply about being distinctive and having his own identity, so calling him a mini version of someone else would cause him to complain and boast about how smart and distinctive he is.

•You know that scene in My Little Pony where Rarity starts whining at the Diamond Dogs? That scene (and episode as a whole) is Sir Handel. Sir Handel is definitely Rarity.

•I completely agree. Sir Handel's insults are definitely creative, and even earn a laugh out of most.

•Again, I completely agree. I love the rest of the engine's reactions, they are highly amusing and fitting.

•Once again, I completely agree. Duncan does not really show positive emotions in the way that everyone else does. So, while he does not say to Rusty that he cares about them, he comes charging if anyone messes with them.

•Sir Handel would probably think that they're jealous because of how grand and fancy he is. He is a posh chap, and he takes great pride in it.

[cheezecakeee]

Enhypen as Taylor Swift songs🫧 (angst. ver)

enhypen masterlist | main masterlist

──●◎●──

➺ Heesung : illicit affairs

"Take the roads less traveled by, tell yourself you can always stop, what started in beautiful rooms, ends with meetings in parking lots" "and that's the thing about illicit affairs, and clandestine meetings, and stolen stares, they show their truth one single time but it dies a million times" "don't call me "kid", don't call me "baby", look at this godforsaken mess that you made me, you showed me the colours you know I can't see with anyone else, don't call me "kid", don't call me "baby", look at this idiotic fool that you made me, you taught me a language I can't speak with anyone else" "and you know damn well, for you i would ruin myself a million little times"

➺ Jay : 'tis the damn season

"It's kind of cold, fogs up the windshield glass but i felt it when i passed you, there's an ache in you put there by the ache in me but if it's all the same to you, it's the same to me" "time flies, messy as the mud on your truck tires, now I'm missing your smile, hear me out, we could just ride around and the roads not taken looks real good now and it always leads me to you in my hometown" "wonder about the only soul who can tell which smiles I'm fakin' and the heart i know I'm breakin' is my own to leave the warmest bed I've ever known" "we could call it even, even though I'm leavin' and I'll be yours for the weekend, 'tis the damn season"

➺ Jake : story of us

"I used to know my place was a spot next to you, now I'm searching the room for an empty seat, 'cause lately i don't even know what page you're on. Oh a simple complication, miscommunication leads to fall out, so many things i wish i knew but there's so many walls I can't break through" "this is looking like a contest of who can act like they care less, but i liked it more when you were on my side. The battle's is in your hand now but i would lay my armour down if you'd say you'd rather love than fight" "so many things you wish i knew, but the story of us might be ending soon" "and we're not speaking, and i wanted to know is it killing you like it's killing me? I don't know how since a twist of fate and 'cause we are going down and the story of us looks like a tragedy now"

➺ Sunghoon - tolerate it

"I sit and watch you read with your head hung low, i wake and watch you breathing with your eyes closed, i sit and watch you, i notice everything you do, you're so much old and wise and I wait by the door like a little kid, use my best colours for your potrait, lay the table with the fancy shit and watch you tolerate it" "while you were building other worlds where was i? Where's the man who'd throw blankets over my barbed wire? I made you my temple, my mural, my sky, now I'm begging for footnotes in the story of your life" "you assume i am fine, but what would you do if I break free and leave us in the ruins, took this dagger in me and remove it, gain the weight of you then lose it, believe me i could it" " if it's all in my head tell me now, tell me I've got it wrong somehow, I know my love should be celebrated, but you tolerate it"

➺ Sunoo : exile

"And it took you five whole minutes to pack us up and leave me with it holdin' all this love out there in my hands" "second, third, and hundred chances, balancing on breaking branches, those eyes add insult to the injury" "so step right out, there's no amount of crying i can do for you, all this time we walked a very thin line, you didn't even hear me out, you never gave a warning sign. All this time I never learned to read your mind, i couldn't turn things around, 'cause you never gave me a warning sign" "and i think I've seen this film before and i didn't like the ending, you're not my homeland anymore, so who am I defending now? You were my town, now I'm in exile, seein' you out, i think I've seen this film before, so I'm leavin' out the side door."

➺ Jungwon : Last Kiss

"I do recall now, the smell of the rain, fresh on the pavement, i ran off the plane that july ninth, the beat of your heart it jumps through your shirt I can still feel your arms. But now I'll go, sit on the floor wearing your clothes, all i know is i don't know" "So I'll watch your life in picture like i used to watch you sleep an I feel like you forget me like I used to feel you breathe, and I'll keep with our old friends just to ask them how you are, hope it's nice where you are. And I hope the sun shines and it's a beautiful day, and something reminds you, you wish you had stayed, you can plan fora change in weather and time but i never planed on changing your mind" "I never thought we'd had a last kiss, never imagined we'd end like this, your name, forever on my lips."

➺ Niki : coney island

"And if this is the long haul, how did we get here so soon? Did i close my fist around something delicate? Did i shatter you?" "Over and over, lost again with no surprises, disappointment close your eyes and it gets colder and colder when the sun goes down" "were you waiting at our old spot in the tree line, by the gold clock? Did I leave you hanging every single day? Were you standing in the hallway with a big cake? Happy Birthday. Did I paint your bluest skies the darkest gray? A universe away" "when the sun goes down the sight that flashed before me was your face, when the sun goes down but i think i forgot to say your name, over and over, sorry for not making you my centerfold"

──●◎●──

[corie-is-writing]

↳ ❝ [S Y N P O S I S] ¡! ❞

Y/n L/n, a simple minded reader, is one of the biggest fans of a popular web novel, Twisted wonderland. In their shock after finding out it has ended, they froze in the middle of a busy street and got hit by a truck.

Dizzy and confused, they have awoken in a coffin in the world they adore so much, and must use their knowledge to survive and stop the boys from overblotting.

A/n: I just realized the first paragraph disappeared omfg

2nd a/n: two paragraphs from the story were missing wtf

↳ ❝ [M A S T E R L I S T] ¡! ❞

↳ ❝ [WELCOME TO THE VILLAINS WORLD] ¡! ❞

˗ˏˋ How'd I get here? ´ˎ˗

Walking through the busy streets, you stop at a red light in the sidewalk. Scrolling through the webnovel on your phone while waiting for the lights to turn green.

You had just finished playing the latest episode on the game version of your favorite novel, [Twisted Wonderland.]

Originally a webnovel, adapted into a physical copy and game, it is a story where a teen named Yuuya ends up into a twisted version of wonderland, where he befriends a beast and characters that are based off of disney villains and attend a magical school called Night Raven College.

With the new friends he has made, they fight against troubled students who have overblotted, which is basically the magic version of a mental breakdown.

The latest episode of the game drove you to tears, Idia's voice actor did such a good job, but damn, it took you hours to defeat his overblot form and Ortho! But the ending made you so excited to finally finish the novel and see what happens next.

You sighed, reaching the last piece of paragraph just as the light turns green. You begin walking, excited to finish the chapter and read the next.

Out the corner of your eye, you see a short text in bold, one that made you stop you in your tracks and widen your eyes.

"Author's note: Will be on hiatus until furthur notice!"

"What."

What indeed, there's no way you cried a whole night catching up with the novel just for it to suddenly to be on hiatus?!

The author doesn't even explain why?! You groan, 'Alright, calm down! there must be a good explanation!' Of course, they must.

maybe they're burnt out from helping with the physical copies and the games, afterall, they're the artist as well! Maybe they're health isn't doing well, or there is some personal problems they'd rather not share.

In your thoughts you fail to notice the angered drivers beeping, waiting for you to finally move, as well as the sudden shouts and cries as the pedestrians and drivers turn to see a truck driving so reckelssly.

"God damn it! work you little shit!" The driver yells, steering the wheel and hitting the breaks, yet to no avail.

As you're about to move, you snap your head to the sounds of loud beepings, just to be met with a truck inches away from your face.

"Eh?"

𓆩♡𓆪

You awake to the sound of loud shuffling and a headache, your whole body is sore. "Is it morning already..?" You whisper.

You try to stretch yet your arms stay bent, you blink, realizing you're confined in a small space.

The panic settles it, your breath quickens as you look around the dark space. 'What..did I get kidnapped..?' You think.

You squeeze your eyes shut, trying to remember what you saw or did last. You recall walking through the busy streets, reading chapter 6 of twisted wonderland that has recently been published.

And the truck.

The truck that was so close to you, you could smell the mud and oil it has been through, feel the heat emitting from it, blinded by it's headlights, and the touch of the rough metallic texture as it meets your skin.

You could still feel the aftermath of the quick collision between you and the truck.

You're whole body was now screaming in agony as you recall that awful memory, were you..dead?

'No way..how am I thinking and moving if I'm dead?' You shake off that thought, did you survive? maybe everyone thought you died and decided to bury you already.

You are snapped out of your thoughts as the shuffling grows louder, you listen in, able to hear a voice.

"Crap, people are coming.. gotta get a uniform while..grrr!" You are startled as you hear the raspy voice belonging to someone, who was that? were you actually kidnapped? and why did he growl?!

"Tch, this lid is too heavy.. time for my secret move!" You hear the mysterious voice take a deep breath, suddenly, blue fire surrounds your view and melts the lock of the enclosure you were trapped in.

Tripping out of the place ('Is that..a floating coffin?' You question yourself) you widen your eyes in surprise as you look around the place and fire. "B-blue fire?!"

"Ok,ok. gotta get.." You turn to the source of the voice, he looks up at you as well, shocked. "WHAA- WHY ARE YOU AWAKE!?"

You can't believe what you're seeing, a blue eyed talking tanuki looking cat with fiery blue flames in his hears, paired with his grey fur and white fluff around his neck and the raspy annoying voice of his..this can't be..!

'Grim?!' On the ground, you sit there motionless with your jaw hanging low, how the fuck-

"What are you looking at like that!" He snaps you out of your thoughts, this wasn't in the game or novel..well, maybe because of you?

'Holy shit does this mean I'm Yuu now?!' You feel giddy and excited, smiling. Were you finally going to be the heroic main character you've always dreamed of being?

"what's with the smile? Well, whatever. Hey, human! Gimme those clothes already! otherwise.." Grim's eyes sharpen as he smirks, his claws out. "I'll burn ya!"

You shiver, and immediately get up from the floor, booking it quickly. 'There's no time for questions, y/n, survival first!' You think.

You run through the large halls, not wasting time to take in every detail (unfortunately for you). Grim chases behind closely.

You end up lost in a dead end, a place full of books. 'In the story, Yuu gets lost in the library while running from Grim, is this it?'

You don't have time to answer your own questions as Grim runs in, laughing. "Did you really you'd get away from me, dumb human?!" He yells, it wasn't really a question.

"Hand over those clothes before I-" He doesn't get to finish his words before he is suddenly tied by a rope. "BWAAH! What's with this rope?!"

Grim struggles to move out the ropes and tried to bite into it, before turning to the culprit that caused this. You can't contain your excitement. 'The sussy deadbeat dad is here!'

"It is no mere rope, it is the lash of love!" A masked man in a suit announces. "Ah! found you at last, you're the new student, no?" He says, looking at you.

"This won't do, you mustn't leave the gates or take untamed familiars with you!" The man lightly scolds, Grim doesn't seem all too happy to be called a familiar.

"Let me go! who you callin' familiar?!" he yells, wiggling around in the rope. Crowley just shakes his head, ignoring him.

"That's what all rebellious beasts say.." He sighs, grabbing him and shutting his mouth. "It's quite rare for a student to open the gate on their own.. Uuugh, how impatient must you be?" He turns to you, you just look at him with a smile, he seems a little taken back by that.

"Hurry on now! the ceremony has already started." Crowley says and begins to make his way to the hall of mirrors, you follow closely behind, shaking of excitement slightly.

'O.M.G! Headmaster Crowley is right in front if me?! how is this possible..!' It seems all the excitement by being isekaied into your favorite game and novel has made you forget about your hatred for Crowley.

The whole time you were walking to the hall of mirrors, Grim was staring at you, wondering why you had such a strange look on your face.

𓆩♡𓆪

The walk to the hall of mirrors was longer than it was in the novel or game, possibly because there are no skips in this world. Not to mention– the halls seem longer and the school in general is a lot bigger than on screen or how it was described in the novel.

You take in every little detail, looking around the place in excitement. You never would have guessed you would end up in the story you loved the most.

The three of you (Grim included) finally reach the hall of mirrors, you here a muffled voice, yet clear enough to understand.

"Did he get a stomachace?" At that, Crowley barges in through the doors.

"No, I have not!" His voice echoes through the dark halls, catching the attention of the students and even startling some.

The background students, surprisingly, all look very different, despite the game not caring much and reusing the same models for them.

The ones you recognize the most, however, are the ones that get your heartbeat going and your smile grow wider, the main characters of the book and game!

"Ah, he's here." A red haired boy acknowledges. Crowley steps forward with you in tow, Grim still being carried around like a bag.

"I cannot believe you all, we were missing a student so I went to fetch them." He explains before turning to you, "You're the only one without an assigned dormitory, I shall watch over your familiar, so step up to the dark mirror." Crowley instructs.

You walk up to the mirror, it seems a lot more scarier and realistic than you remember.

"State thy name." It says, the voice booming loud. You think for a moment, wondering if you should tell your name or no, but decided to tell your real name anyway.

"Y/n." You simply say, leaving out your last name.

"The shape of thy soul is..unknown."

"Come again?" Crowley asks, tilting his head slightly.

"I sense not a spark of magic in this one." Says the mirror before continuing. "The color, the shape, all nothing, therefore, there are no dorms suited for them.

It was silent for what seemed like an eternity, then came the waves of whispers amongst the students, confusion apparent on their faces and voices.

You definitely don't remember the mirror's words hurting this much, nor the feeling of anxiety and fear rushing through you as you notice all eyes are on you.

"The ebony carriage has never picked up a magicless student." Crowley finally speaks, "Since a hundred years, there was never a problem in the student selection..so why now?!" His words do nothing to soothe your anxious state.

At that, Grim breaks free from the headmaster's hold, ripping the rope apart and smirking mischievously. "Then I'll take their place!" he says.

"Stay right there raccoon!" yells the headmaster, yet his words does not effect the wild beast, whose flames seem to grow bigger at every second.

"Unlike that magicless human– I can actually do magic! Let me in the school now! I'll prove it to ya!" Grim says confidently, taking a deep breath in.

Riddle, alarmed, immediately yells to the other students. "Get down, quick!"

"Nnnah!!!" Grim exhales, fire comes out of his mouth, catching the venue on fire. You quickly move out of the way, grabbing a careless student along with you.

"Phew, that was close.. Thanks!" The student says, his voices catches you off guard.

'Is that-' You don't have much time to think as Grim continues to burn down the school.

The headmaster yells out for someone to catch that beast, while two students have a light banter, another set of students go out to catch the running Grim.

'Oh gee, this is gonna take a while.' You sigh.

𓆩♡𓆪

"OFF WITH YOUR HEAD!" Yells the red head, with his words came a heart shaped collar around the silly beast.

"NYGAAH! What's with this collar!?" Said beast yells, his blue eyes widening as he looks down at the collar.

"Laws of the Queen of Hearts: Number 23 "One shall never bring a cat to a festival." You being a cat breaks the rules, I shall escort you out at once." Riddle says.

"I'm not a cat! I'll burn this collar and.." Grim's confusion grows as he realizes he is unable to use his magic. "Huh?! Why can't I use my magic?!"

Riddle huffs, "You won't be using any magic until I remove the collar, you'll be just like an ordinary house cat." He mocked.

"What?! I'm not some pet!" The beast yells, his scowl growing wider.

Riddle smirks as he picks up Grim. "Don't worry, I'd never keep a cat like you." He sneers, "I'll take it off once you're thrown out." His words don't reassure the beast.

Azul begins to speak up. "Wow, as wonderful as ever. Any and all magic get's sealed by your unique magic, Riddle." He gives an unneeded explanation towards no one in particular.

"I must simply have..Ahem! I mean, I wouldn't have that cast on me." He finishes.

Back to you, the Headmaster walks up to you. "You must do something about this! this is your familiar afterall! you must discipli-"

You quickly cut him off. "He's not mine." You say, furrowing your brows slightly.

"Eh? It's not yours?" Crowley asks, takened back.

"Nope, never seen him." You simply say, lying through your teeth. 'Technically not in person..'

"You haven't?" He coughs. "Anyway, let's get it out the school at any rate. I won't turn you into stew, for I am gracious! Someone, help please." You don't wanna know what he meant by turning Grim into stew.

"Gyaaa! Let me go! I'm going.. I'm going to become the best mage!" His cries do not phase the students and headmaster as he gets thrown out, though it does shake your heart slightly.

'Oh well, he'll come back anyway.' You think, cheering yourself up.

Soon, at the headmaster's command, all the students follow their respective dormleaders to their dorm.

"Then, Y/n." Crowley turns to you, "I'm terribly sorry about this but, we must have you leave the school." He says.

"Those without any magic cannot be allowed to attend here." He explains, "Not to worry– the dark mirror will send you to where you've come from." He reassures.

"Just enter the gate and imagine your home clearly." He instructs and you do so.

"Oh, dark mirror! Guide this one back to the place where they belong!" The headmaster commands, and was responded with silence.

He tilts his head before trying again. "Once more. Oh dark mirror! guide thi-"

"It is nowhere." Says the dark mirror nonchalant, a smile tugs at your lips, yet you refrain from making any odd faces.

"Eh?" The headmaster seems confused.

The dark mirror begins to explain. "The place they belong is nowhere in this world..it does not exist."

"What did you say?! That is unbelievable!" Crowley shouts, before calming down. "Well, the unbelievable seems to be the theme today.."

The dark mirror just stays silent.

The headmaster turns to you. "This is the first time this happened since I've become the headmaster, where exactly do you come from?" He asks.

You answer him, telling him your hometown.

"I've never heard of this place. I have a general understanding of where all the students came from, but I've never even heard of that name." Crowley says. "Let's go do some research in the library. He suggests.

You follow after him out the venue, and to the library you go.

𓆩♡𓆪

Just as suspected, there was nothing in the library that even mentioned your hometown.

"Are you truly from where you say? You aren't hiding the truth, are you?" You just shake your head no.

"Looking at all this, you may have somehow been brought here from another planet..or another world." He suggests, you've already figured that out long ago.

"Do you have anything that can verify your identity? a drivers license or even a slipper?" Crowley asks, you rummage through your pockets.

"Nope, nothing on me." You answer, a bit disappointed. You could've checked your phone and told your friend everything that happened whether they believe it or not, or reread the story to prepare for whatever happens.

Well, you doubt the reception here will work, and you're pretty sure you've got every little detail of the story memorized in your head.

"This is concerning, I can't just let a magicless person stay at my school. However, as an educator. I can't toss a penniless teenager who has no means of contacting their guardians out on the street." He stays silent for a bit before smiling and saying his catchphrase. "For I am so gracious!"

Crowley thinks for a moment before speaking up again. "I know! There is an unused building on campus. It was once a dormitory in the past, if you can clean in up, you should be able to at least sleep there." He suggests, you get excited again. You can to live in the rusty, old, rat filled, dusty, disgusting, moldy, broken ramshackle dorm?! in your favorite novel?! amazing!

"For the time being, I shall allow you to stay there!" The headmaster interrupts your train of thoughts, "Then I will look for a way to return you home."

He rambles on for a bit on how gracious and amazing he is before leading you to the dirty dorm.

And there it is, the ramshackle dorm in all it's glory. You really hope this isn't some vivid dream.

"What a glorious place!" You say, with a hint of sarcasm in your tone.

"Right right, please come inside." The headmaster says, not picking up on your tone of voice and leads you inside.

The inside is worse, with speckles of dust flying everywhere, torn couches, and dirty floors. But you love it anyway.

"Staying here will at least keep you out of the rain." Crowley states. "I'm going to do more research, make yourself at home and please do not wander around the campus!" He warns before leaving you in the dark dorm.

You sigh, looking around the place. The game and novel doesn't show it, but the dust really does look like snow.

You walk to the window, gently pressing the palm of your hand against the glass.

Peeping through the stained glass, you see rain coming down, it's drops hit the ground with a splash you can hear through the barrier, and the wind howls loudly through the night.

You can see the campus nearby, and the lanterns glowing, lightening the cold and dark paths of ramshackle to the campus.

You feel the cool breeze come through the cracks of the walls, making you shiver slightly. "Why was I excited about this.." You mutter quietly.

It felt a little lonely as you sat down on the couch, still watching the rain. But the loud screech of a familiar beast was there to keep you company.

"Hyiii!! It's really coming down!" You turn, almost breaking your neck with how fast you snapped your head. Eyes widened as you look at the raccoon like beast.

"Gyahahaha! You shoud see the stupid look on your face!" Grim laughs, "It's like a bat being attacked by a water gun!" He snickers through his comparison.

"Sneaking back into the school again is easy-peasy for me, no sweat!" Grim brags. "If you think getting kicked out is gonna make me give up on getting in, you've got another thing coming!"

You stay quiet for a bit, sitting back down in the couch in a more comfortable position, bring your knees to your chest and allowing your head to rest on them. "Why do you wanna be in this school so badly?" You ask.

"That's simple!" Grim huffs as he begins to explain, "I'm a genius who is destined to become a great wizard! I've been waiting for the ebony carriage to pick me up..but.." The mood turns bitter and somber as Grim looks down in disappointment.

"But..hmph! the dark mirror has no eye for talent. So that's why I came here myself!" He speaks again, his moment of weakness quickly replaced by his cheerfull and haughty act.

"Not letting me in would be a loss for the world. Humans just don't get it." As Grim finishes his explanation, a rain drops through the cracks of the ceiling an onto his ears, making him flinch and screech.

"Nyaa! So cold! The ceiling is leaking!" He shivers, more water drips down again. "Fgyaaa! it keeps coming! my signature fire ears are gonna go out at this rate!"

You look at the ceiling calmly, and get up from your position. "I'm gonna look for buckets." You state.

Grim looks at you confusingly. "Why not use magic?" He asks curiously, before his eyes widen in realization and smirking smugly. "Oh! that's right, you can't use magic~" He taunts, laughing.

You just scoff at his weak attempt to piss you off and leave the room.

Walking through the foyer, you shiver slightly from the cold. Your socks dirty from the dusty floor and almost slip at one point from the small puddle caused by the leak.

The dark and broken halls of ramshackle makes you quiver, your heart quickens as you hear a noise. Before you can take another step, white cartoony figures appear before you.

"Hihihi..hihihi.." Their chuckles echoe loudly, you widen your eyes in surprise and fear.

"We haven't had a guest in such a long time.. I'm itching for some actiong! hihihihi....."

You calm as you realize who they are, the three ghosts of ramshackle! They were creepy at first, but you warmed up to them as the game and novel progressed.

You do have to fight them though, that's a shame. But it was easy in the game so..

'Oh..'

You don't know how to fight in real life..

'Oh crap.'