#prom part 2

[huppydoodle]

prom, 1997

yoshida did Not ask permission to take this picture but he Did put it in the yearbook

[alienkitty259]

[maxphilippa]

Everyone adores you,

At least I do.

+ alt without the effects cuz yeah

[shortnotsweet]

all bets are off [2/3]

Lucemond High School AU drabble [part 1], She’s All That (1999)

Aemond Targaryen may be the leading man of Westeros, but Daeron is the man of the hour. His date moves timidly at first, but settles into the steps of a waltz as a swan does to water.

“You’re better than I thought,” he laughs, breathless and pretty. “Better than Jace, at least. He always stepped on my toes.”

“I hope you’d rather dance with me than your brother,” Daeron murmurs into the shell of his ear. “Besides, my mother may not pay attention when it counts, but she made sure we knew how to dance. We’re Targaryens, aren’t we?”

It’s when he swoops down to kiss him—or maybe when Valeryon tilts his head to receive it—that a sudden crash can be heard, followed by horrified—no, delighted—shrieks. Onlookers witness the leading man shoving through the crowd just to get to them. The drink table is overturned on the way; in retrospect, the table was already on its way down, overloaded with spiked punch bowls as it was, and the skirt of Maris Baratheon’s dress snagged on the hinges of the folding leg and helped it capsize once and for all.

Forget Maris, forget the dress, forget the table. No use crying over spilled vodka on a gymnasium floor. This is what matters:

Daeron jumps into action when he hears about the pig because that’s—that’s just fucked. Daeron heard it from Aegon who heard it from Helaena who didn’t hear it from Aemond because he didn’t tell her, but their sister must possess some form of clairvoyance because she always knows about these things. What kind of things?

Denial runs in the family; it’s in their blood. Having lived half a life with both, Daeron can guess which side. He’s the level one, the normal one. He spots the abnormal a mile away.

He sees it in the way their mother openly tosses Rhaenyra’s family holiday cards into the trash without even opening the envelopes, but must privately fish them out later in the evening. He found them all once at the back of her fragrance drawer, stacked chronologically by the year and tucked behind vintage perfume bottles, neatly out of sight.

He supposes Aemond is much the same. Aemond, the older brother he sparsely knows, has many tells. For example: two separate underwear drawers, a jar filled with hard lemon candies he himself doesn’t touch, a journal he once tackled Aegon for opening. With him, things stay out of sight, but never out of mind.

That’s why Daeron doesn’t rat him out when he first hears about the bet. From what Aegon has said, Helaena doesn’t contradict, and Daeron has witnessed, Aemond’s watched Luke for years and wants him in every possible way. Perhaps he is like Alicent, Daeron thinks, who lovingly files away memorabilia to dissect later. Perhaps Aemond will get the right of it in the end.

Then, Daeron catches wind of the blood and sees red. Right or wrong, plotting to seduce the object of your ire over the course of a school year and humiliate him come prom night by dumping him onstage, then dumping a bucket of blood suspended from the ceiling over him is—well. Aegon says it best.

“Pig’s blood? Really, Aemond? You’re like a cartoon supervillain.”

They all know Aemond never would’ve gone through with it. The Baratheon girls, save for one, are vapid creatures. Aemond never needed Maris’s favor to secure an internship with her father, but it was always an excuse. The moment she pointed out Luke—shy, wallflower freshman as he was—Aemond hatched his own plan. They’re Targaryens in name and blood, but they’re Hightowers, too. It’s in their conniving nature.

That summer, Luke should’ve taken one look at Aemond’s outstretched hand and taken off at a sprint. Daeron would’ve taken Luke’s hand himself and dragged him away, had he known.

Luke runs track in the winter and spring and hides himself away in the summer and fall, like an inverse of seasonal depression. Luke is a good runner. He’s skinny, but has strong legs and the instinct for it; the second the starting pistol blows, he jolts like a jackrabbit and covers the two-hundred stretch like it’s nothing. Daeron watches him run from the bleachers because he’s good at it, and because Luke sometimes wears these little shorts that barely cover anything. Aemond watches too, of course, stealing glances during lacrosse practice and nearly letting the ball get away from him. After the infamous breakup—which took place behind the scenes but played out in the aftermath for the entire school to see and speculate on—Aemond is even less subtle about it. A few times he moves to abandon the field, as if to run after Luke like a hound catching a scent. Then he’ll catch sight of Daeron in the bleachers and glower.

(“Who dumped who? It had to be Aemond, right?”

“No, no. Look at him. That’s not the look of someone who escaped a relationship.”

“What are they supposed to look like then?”

“Free, I guess. Liberated. I dunno.”)

Lucerys Valeryon pulls up the driveway in the dead of night. It’s the end of April.

Daeron watches for him out his bedroom window, then hurries downstairs and out the back door when he sees the Beetle convertible emerge, a baby blue blot in the dark. Luke called him beforehand, said he had to drop off Aemond’s things before he got too attached. Borrowed shirts, origami candy wrappers, a roll of photos sheathed in an envelope. A hardcover children’s book. It is a good thing Aemond and the rest of the household is asleep; he’d been in a black mood for weeks and knowing Lucerys was so close again would have him frothing at the mouth. Who knows what he’d be driven to do.

Daeron meets him at the edge of the lawn. Luke takes one look at him—his hair, the color of his eyes—and his expression crumbles. He cries on the curb. Daeron crouches down next to him. You’re my friend. You’re beautiful. You never deserved this, he thinks. Neither does Aemond. He never did.

“I have a suit,” Daeron says instead. And both eyes. “You were excited about it, right? Go with me.”

“Huh?” Luke wipes his face. It’s flushed red and splotchy. He is so lovely. “No, no. You don’t have to keep…” being nice to me, he finishes lamely, mentally. Daeron hears it anyway. Oh, you silly boy. He watched him before this summer, but they’d become true friends by the beginning of fall thanks to Aemond dragging him home every week, much to their mother’s despair and Rhaenyra’s clear delight. It might be one of the best things to ever happen to Daeron, besides his mother finally deciding he can come home. He knows what it’s like, then, that fear. Luke must think that once Aemond is no longer in his orbit, he’ll simply blink out existence like a star burned to a quick. It’s not true. It never was.

“I know. I want to.” Daeron hopes Luke hears his conviction bleeding through, and fears he’ll hear the love there, too. Luke is silent for a moment, turning it over in his mind.

“Okay,” he says wetly, finally. “I’ll go to prom with you. Pick me up at six.”

It’s a month to prom. Aemond’s stuff is packed in a box in the back of the car. It’s a date.

“Thank you for telling me,” Luke mutters against Daeron’s shoulder. “No one else did. They didn’t think I could handle it, I bet, but you—you knew.” A scaly beast that’s lived inside Daeron’s ribcage for longer than he can remember rumbles in agreement.

Luke rests his cheek against his collarbone and Daeron is sure that if he tried, he could hear the staccato of his heartbeat through the skin of his throat.

“Would you have wanted to know? Even if you knew it would make you unhappy?” It was obvious to anyone who knew them that Aemond never would’ve broken up with Luke in the end, not of his own volition. He’d die first.

“Of course.” Luke pulls back, offended. “How else would I—I would’ve never known it wasn’t real.” Daeron almost shakes his head. It was real, alright. Realer than Luke will ever know. But this—this can be real, too. This can be just as good. Better.

“I’m glad, then.” He dips him then, hand creeping down to plant against Luke’s lower back. The speakers continue to warble in the background, but Daeron doesn’t recognize the song; it’s something about moonlight, about fireflies dancing and the silver moon watching on.

“Don’t touch him.”

Ah. Speak of the devil. Daeron’s been touching their nephew all night, but Aemond probably knows that. He’s been watching them out of the corner of his remaining eye, jaw clenched in fury. His poor date—wretched girl she is—stands behind him, clutching at her torn skirt with a mottled expression. She’d scuttled after Aemond, to no avail.

“What are you doing?” Luke asks over Daeron’s shoulder. Everyone is watching. He is not as tall as his brother, but he’s taller than Luke and shifts to angle him away. Aemond, as expected, follows like a dog chasing a tail.

“You’re my boyfriend,” Aemond hisses, wounded, reaching out for Luke’s sleeve, “debasing himself. What are you doing?”

“Was.” Luke jerks away, clinging to Daeron’s arms like he’s a lifeboat at sea. Aemond flinches. “This is my date. I came here because I wanted to.” Luke’s fingers dig into the black fabric of Daeron’s tux. “Leave us alone.” At the mention of us, Aemond’s nostrils flare.

“Didn’t you hear him?” Daeron says blandly. “Leave us alone.” He doesn’t even need to turn to know there’s anguish painted on his face, in the tremor of his lip. You’re losing him, Aemond. One more strike, you’re out.

“How dare you?” Aemond grits out, snagging a fist in Daeron’s lapel instead, to the gasps of the crowd circling around the three of them. “You think you can come back here and help yourself?” You, who was born with nothing, for nothing, shipped away like nothing.

Daeron looks up at Aemond now, at the red rim of his eye and the brokenness behind the pupil. It’s been said that all men demand their pound of flesh. They’re not men, not yet, but Aemond’s been baying for Luke’s blood (and body, mind and soul) for the better of nine years. It’s a three-man play, and the spotlight is sweltering.

Daeron only smiles at the challenge. Maybe it looks sharp. Maybe it looks bloody. Maybe it looks like he has nothing to lose.

(Wrong. He has the audacity, actually. If he plays his cards right, he gets Luke, too.)

[marsixm]

i also think the fact that i had such a stunted and isolated upbringing and now that im an adult all my friends are on atypical life paths (and honestly even my friends as a kid were like this too) means i find things that are usually very common life stages really interesting. like knowing someone who has a house and a wife and 2 kids (with that wife) and a job with a salary feels like meeting fucking paul bunyun to me. or hearing the kids i work with talk about graduating high school and going to college and being on a real path with that stuff is neat? or even sometimes knowing cis/het people who are like going thru that coming of age stuff that i never really experienced the way you see it in the movies bc of transness/queerness/neurodivergence. its like woah they said the name of the thing in the thing. do u know what i mean???

[my-rose-tinted-glasses]

GMMTV 2024 - PART2

The Dark Dice

Trailer

[eldritchcutiepatootie]

Same vibe tbh (both end up happily married)

cinematic parallels at its finest.

[konakoro]

One of the more notable differences when going from being a casual horror fan to a more seasoned veteran horror fan is when your favorite slasher changes.

The more casual fans will say "oh my favorite slasher is Freddy/Jason/Michael!" - the vanilla ice cream of faves.

You know you're in the weeds when you answer something like Chromeskull from Laid to Rest 1 & 2 or the Driller Killer from Slumber Party Massacre 2

[ripplefields]

LETTING THE DAYS GO BY

(LET THE WATER HOLD ME DOWN)

mn - rain-writes-fics

[amadholes-lostre]

Religion: Califinidad(?)/Califinity

I created this fictional religion a few years ago in 2021, when I was obsessed with The Prom. Well, it is actually part of a crossover between BNHA and The Prom, then I added other series like Amphibia, The Owl House, and Attack on Titan (I know some people reading this are getting brain aneurysm lol). The idea was that, other than enriching the world, it will create a realistic scenario if people start developing powers. I would like to try add this in my dune fic, either as a minority religion or somewhat bi-worship like how Japan does with shintoism and Buddhism.

(Which willbe difficult since how the religion come to be).

The religion (depending on the denomination) focuses less on worshipping on said religion name (Califia) but more of what her and her... friends, disciples, group (?)'s beliefs are. It focuses on Califia's philosophy, spiritual belief, and ideology. The religion is imperative in quirk society (mainly in the Americas) because Califia and her group were first-generation quirk users. Califinity is frankly a quirk religion.

So the lore behind Calafia and her group is that Calafia :

1: was born in Central America (Guatemala likely), a Mestiza, and her family emigrated to California in mid-2040 (funny because the US was fucked at this point).

2: Form an academy/sanctuary for quirk children who were either abandoned by their parents or who came to learn how to control their power.

3: Is in a polygamous relationship with two women (lol, lmao even).

I based Califia on two characters: Xavier and Magento. She created the academy, Califia's Orphanage and Academy for the Gifted, to protect quirk children during a time when anti-quirk was horrific. However, unlike Professor X, she is very not a pacifist or the idea co-existing with non-quirks. She won't go antagonizing non-quirks society (or the government), but she is very "don't fuck with us and we won't fuck with you". Naturally, the government does so, and led a shadow war between them.

The academy, which is now a pro hero academy (federal-level), is located in Solano County, CA because I'm a California gal (and also California was like, one of the safest place to be a quirk during that time).

So, Califia's friends/disciples/group were quirks (naturally lol) and they were mostly either ciswomen or genderqueers (there is only one man and he is a transman). They were also non-white, either agonistic or not deeply religious, leftists, and educated. During a time when 1. People were developing powers that are coming out of nowhere; and 2. The US was just coming out of a horrific civil war. So they try to figure out why people were having powers. These will lead to the fundamental aspect of the religion.

They believe that people individually have energy, similar to souls/spirit. This energy helps form the universe and keep it stable. When a person dies, their energy/soul/spirit dissipated and merged with the universe. How quirks come to be is that quirks are the manifestation of a person's energy. The more powerful a quirk is, the greater the person's energy is. Sometimes, a person's energy, which is supposed to be nontangible, merged more directly to its host, and that is how mutation quirks are formed.

This helps scientifically explain when some quirks, like Momo, could defied thermodynamics.

Calafinity also suppose have a holy book, similar to The Bible. How the book were structured that it contains Califia's and her group 13 journals. The book is structured by beginning what Califia's belief how quirks come to be (explaining spiritually), then categorized Califia's early life (which is pitiful before her quirk awakening) chronologically. Then, it will lead into the 13 disciples' journals, each explaining their early life, their quirks awakening, and how they met Califia. Their journals will also explain how they believe how quirks and, by proxy, the main religion spirituality. So, the Books will likely come in 2 versions: one that is categorized by events, belief, and the disciples' views on Calafia; or, the Book separates the journals. However, there are important chapters in the Book: the final years of Calafia's. Actually, the chapter for the last days of Califia's, which she was killed in, is called "The Final Ballad" or "The Ballad of San Francisco.""

Califia has an archnemesis. The archnemesis isn't viewed as The Devil (though some denomination do view him as such), however, they view him as an antithesis of Califia's value. The archnemesis, named Dreadmond (he has many other aliases), is a quirk supremist, and by meta, I will view him as the Americas (or at least, in the US) counterpart of All for One. However, unlike him, Dreadmond does not work in the shadow. He is at the center of his legions (?), wnd is so in every battle. he makes sure that he is front and center. His philosophy is malleable depending on the era and followers, but he very much believes in might and Social Darwinism. He is charismatic, energetic, and authoritative, which allowed him to attract many meta-kinds (quirk-kinds). It also helped just how fucking awful having a quirk doing those time.

Califia and Dreadmond, initially, had informal agreement of not interfering with one another in their 30s (humans, by this time, double their lifespan). Both were already in a shadow war with the government, were at different coasts with Dreadmon and his followers being on the East Coast, and did not want to further weaken their cause. However, Califia utterly depised Dreadmond: even though Califia focused on quirk-kinds and hated the discrimination they face, she had no issue with non-quirks, especially ones who are sympathetic or helping their cause. Dreadmond, meanwhile, is a genocidal, eugenic tryant who believes non-quriks should, at best, be serfs that serve quirks. Later on, as quirk-kinds become the majority, Dreadmond starts changing this view, now harsher on weak quirks. Non-quirks, which he refers to as Roto (broken in Spanish), should be eradicated.

So, he is very much a horrible human being. Also, he is Puerto Rican lol.

So, while Dreadmond wants to dominate over the Americas (or, at least, the US), Califia wants to create a quirk society, locating on the West Coast, or at least California. Other than being a Cal-gal (and me being bias), California is isolated from the rest of the country thanks to the Sierra Mountains, the other side of the country, and far more tolerable compared to what going on past the Mississippi River.

How the conflict between them happened escalated suddenly and quickly. Dreadmond and his followers are, being bluntly, terrorists and though made life hellish in the East. His actions also increased anti-quirks sentiment and caused many quirks to migrated to the West Coast (by BNHA era, California has a population of 80 million, Oregon 9 million, and Washington (goes by different name) 13 million). There were some arguments between them, more in the likes of "can you maybe fucking chill for a moment?" "How 'bout you 🫵 chill." I don't know what really lead into this but one of Dreadmond's followers killed one of Califia's lover. All of a sudden, Califia and Dreadmond were in war. And Califia wants to kill him.

The war was short (lasting like six months), but it was brutal and bloody. Califia managed to create a truce with the US government (it more like "don't ever fuck with my people again and I will give you his head") which led into destructive battle. The final battle at San Francisco, which lasted for a day, destroyed almost half of it. Half of Sunset District, most of Market Street and the Financial District were just obliterate, leveled to the ground. The fight between Califia and Dreadmond pretty much ended not only the battle but the war itself and began the Dark Era (or Vigilantes Era, idfk anything about bhna history lol).

Califia was killed in the battle, and Dreadmond vanished, believing that he was either killed or went into hiding (he was actually hibernating beneath the Golden Gate Bridge waters). Her disciples were factual due to her; she was adhesive, the most important person of their group, and what held them together.

I didn't really talk about the disciples, mainly because I don't have a name for them (lol), but they're important in Calafinity, especially some who help disseminated Califia's teaching and belief, and one who mystified her. I gonna be referring them as their alias since it helps me. The most imperative figure was The Apostle, the youngest of the disciples (if Califia was in her mid-30s before her death, then The Apostle was likely in her late teen). When the disciples were factual, The Apostle spread about Califia, either her beliefs, her philosophy, her deeds, and even the possibility she was actually a deity (I also think the internet will be somewhat gone so she has to go it the old fashioned way). I would like to say that one of the denominations - one of the most popular ones, has a somewhat systematic structure (which is something Califia will actually hates lol), and it's dominanted in Northern California- will be named after The Apostle.

There is The Prophet, whose quirk is clairvoyance (though vaguely). There is The Man, and he is called that because I thought it was funny. Maybe The Lover for one of Califia's lover.

I don't know much about holidays. The Final Ballad will certainly be a holiday; ending the battle and war, stopping Dreadmond's tyranny, and for Califia's death/transcendence. However, do of how imperative quirk is to Califia and that Calafinity is a quir-religion, a child gaining their quirk will likely be one of the important day for them. For Japan, a quirk awakening will be a simple "Oh that great!" moment. For Califinitans, it is a celebration, a day where the community gathered at the local temple, throw a party, and formally welcome the child. Parents are required to mark the time and date when their child's quirk were awaken. Because of this, people usually celebrate two personal days for themselves: Birthday and Awakenday.

I certain I said this already, but Califinity superseded Christianity in the Americas, becoming the dominant religion both continents. However, this happened after The Great Blooming. The Great Blooming was an event a century (maybe half a century?) after the Final Ballad. It is similar to the Baby Bloom, except instead of having a population bloom, the ratio between non-quirks and quirks (1 quirk to every 4 non-quirks) flipped. Now, more than half of children were having a quirk awakening, and this led to another civil war, referred to as The Neo War (Human Purist teaming up with Neo-Confederates) (Also, the West Coast went mostly unscathed, lol)(also, Dreadmond was in). Doing a time where the majority are irreligious, horrific events occur, and the new generation were quirks, naturally Quirk-kinds will latch onto Califinity.

To be honest, I can't really think of anything else. There are other quir-religions in my bnha world au. There is a non-religious version of Califinity called Califinism, mostly about Califia's philosophy about quirks and how it should be used (she is a social individualist). All Might, Toshinori Yagi, is a Califinist.

Can't really think anything else, bye 👋.

[cerealmonster15]

i finally made a folder of my google docs re: twst fics/plannings and looking at the names are so fun bc a lot of them i didnt use the final fic name [if it got published] so sometimes it's just a placeholder [especially if it's just notes/ideas and not a fic] and some dont have a title at all and just auto used the first few words of the doc so i have like

i think only like 5ish of these have their ao3 titles on them / on two separate occasions i named an apple juice fic prompt doc the same thing except for literally just one has an extra ! and they were like 2 months apart......... i even checked bc i thought for some reason the doc duplicated themselves but no, those are just two completely different fics, they just both happened to be Apple Juice Kiss Prompts jvdjfdsljg i didnt do that w/any of the other kiss prompt docs but. whatever i guess!!

it's a fun guessing game on looking at the titles and trying to remember which ones they are. they date back to like 2021 when i moved from word docs to google so i could more easily share them with my friend since i wasnt really publishing anything at first lol.

[kiruamon]

Part 24

Any second now. Oz stood there, eyes widened in shock and paralyzed. It would take a miracle to free himself from his current dilemma. What could he do? Run away. He had to run and find another way to get to Pip, but his useless legs were failing him again. Meanwhile, his classmate was coming closer and closer. He felt the panic inside him rise even further. And then he noticed it. A monstrous figure moving towards them at an incredible speed. His breath stopped. Thankfully, he didn't needed air to survive.

The shape grew bigger and bigger, took a powerful leap, rose into the air and in the next moment the cursorial bird in front of him was dragged to the side by his long neck from the huge weight of the predator.

A single strangled cry of horror escaped Leonard's beak as the werewolf yanked him around like a toy, causing the mirror to fall from his beak to the ground among the green grass.

Half scared to death, Oz stared in pure terror at the picture that presented itself before him. Why was all this happening? W-why did this werewolf suddenly attacked Leonard? Although he might have felt relieved to have escaped the magic of the mirror, Oz was still too confused and stunned to feel anything in that regard. The frightened entity was trembling and even his phobias were huddling together in fear.

A piercing howl of victory filled the air before the massive, hairy beast reared up - still holding their classmate's long neck in his mouth - and before letting out a deep husky laugh. "Huhuhuh. That big chicken was easy prey! My bros will be so surprised when I bring it back!" the pack member spoke excited to himself with a full muzzle and tail wagging in delight not noticing Oz at first.

Could today actually get any worse? All he wanted was to help his friend. Finding out if he was well or… or... No! He shouldn't think about the alternative… not yet. Oz was still shaking, but despite the dreadful experience he just had, a new thought managed to raise his voice loud enough to get him finally to act. He had to grab this chance! As long as the werewolf was distracted by Leonard, he could leave this place to search for Pip.

His feet still felt wobbly as he took his first step. And although Oz hadn't been particularly loud, the small movement was enough to attract the attention of his predatory classmate. Immediately, the werewolfs head shot up, ears pointing up and the two green glowing eyes fixated on him in bewilderement. Obviously, the jock had completely blanked him out during his euphoric mood. At least until just now...

Green eyes narrowed suspiciously as Oz sensed that the other was trying to figure out if he was a potential threat to him or not. The muzzle of the fur-covered monstrous wolf released its - most likely from shock - unconscious prey, which fell to the ground with a thud. One of the enormous paws rested on Leonard's now feathered back. Even under all the fur, the flawless interplay of the thoroughly trained muscles was clearly noticeable. Oz silently prayed that his classmate would not just rip his head off of his shoulders.

With bristled back fur and a low and threatening growl, the pack member approached him. "What are you staring at?" the werewolf jock asked him, his voice full of suspicion, before he clarified even louder: "This chicken is mine! I hunted it down all fair, so back off and find your own meal! I won't share with someone like you!"

In his mind, Oz could already see his pathetic life passing by. This guy would eat him for breakfast if he didn't act quickly.

What would he have not given away at that very moment? For Brian's unwavering nature. For Amira's boundless confidence. For Vicky's endless optimism. Or simply for the fact that his mind - instead of coming up with a plan - wouldn't go blank in an emergency situation like this!

What should he do? What was he supposed to say? What could he… Calm down… he needed to calm down. Oz squeezed his eyes shut as tight as he could, forcing himself to breathe more calmly.

He could do it. He would make it work. Hopefully... Not fully convinced by his own encouraging words, the still frightened student slowly managed to raise his head again and withstanding the urge to dodge the jock's piercing gaze. Or to run away as fast as possible. Instead, Oz looked the still intimidating looking werewolf straight in the eyes.

As carefully as possible, he raised his hands in a soothing gesture. "I-I d-don't intend t-to take any… anything away from y-you," tried Oz to reassure his scary looking classmate, which earned him a frown from the latter.

But at least the canine monster seemed to listen to him. That wasn't such a bad sign, right? The small entity gathered up some more of his little courage. Maybe… maybe he could somehow convince this guy to listen to what he had to say. For the first time, the desperate student felt hopeful again. It didn't seemed impossible anymore that he could retrieve the mirror in order to return to his friend with it. "H-honestly I-I h-have only one f-f-favor to a-ask y-you, if you cou-could just l-let me have t-the m-"

"ARGH! I knew it! You are after my chicken!" the werewolf immediately growled angrily without letting him finish his question.

"W-what? N-no!", Oz gave a startled cry. "T-that's n-not wha-what I-I w-w-wanted. I-If y-you w-would o-only l-listen to m-me, please… "

"LIAR!" Without waiting another second, the member of the Wolfpack took a step towards him. Oz heard an ominous creaking sound as the werewolf shifted his weight onto his leg causing the massive paw to break the glass of the mirror beneath it.

… Oh no…

A cloud of white smoke appeared out of nowhere and surrounded the enchanted figure of the kappa. Confused, the werwolf tried to catch a glimpse of something through the clearing smoke that hid his prey. Even Oz wasn't quite sure what was really happening right now. That was until he saw Leonard. Still unconscious, but back to his normal self! The magic of the mirror must had lost its effect as soon as the artifact was broken!

"Why is my chicken suddenly an ugly duck?" the werewolf asked, visibly shocked, before his ears flattened and a dark concerning sounding growl escaped the jock's throat. The fur was all ruffled. The canine monster gritted his sharp teeth while his muzzle crinkled itself. Oz gulped. That didn't looked good for him.

The former surprise in the predator's face was fully replaced by blind rage as the werewolf turned to Oz looking not amused in the slightest.

Oh Gosh... He really couldn't have a break, could he?

"WHAT DID YOU DO TO MY CHICKEN! TELL ME! OR I WILL BREAK YOU LIKE THE LITTLE TWIG THAT YOU ARE!" Startled by the drastic rise in volume, Oz flinched hard. His ears rang from the roar of his opponent. He already expected to be devoured at any moment - even more so now that the canine predator had lost his original prey.

"B-but I-I j-j-just w-wa-wanted t-to...," Oz stuttered, nearly choking on his own words. He barely had the strength left in him to speak loud enough to be heard and was cut off once again.

"THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT!"

His fault. The words repeated themselves in his head. Over and over and over. Oz felt his knees finally giving out and he lost his footing. His hands scraped the hard floor as he fell. The angry hollering mixed with threats kept continuing. It was too much at once. He couldn't bear it anymore. All the yelling, screaming, the constant feeling of danger and fear. Not knowing how to handle it any longer. It was all too overwhelming. So exhausting. Draining. His mind went blank and Oz couldn't even manage to unravel the words of the other student. All these words were nothing more than static in his ears. There was nothing he could do but stare wide-eyed in fear at the grim face of the pack member in front of him, imagining how the other would end him in three dozen different, equally gruesome ways. Fine, maybe he couldn't die, but it would still be very, very painful…. His fingertips felt numb, though he could sense an irritating prickling in them. Why? Why couldn't he bring his body under control? Instead, the overwhelmed entity felt that he had begun to tremble even more, although he didn't believed that this could had been possible. His hands felt damp and ice-cold. He was afraid. So very afraid. From witnessing the brute strength of his canine classmate firsthand any second. Afraid of being yelled at again. Of not being understood if he tried to speak up. His chest rose and fell in unsteady motions, while his vision began blurring before his eyes.

And yes... yes... It was his fault. Completely and solely his. Just because he wasn't strong enough. Because he wasn't brave enough. If only he had never meddled with things that weren't his business. Without my help, it wouldn't have come to this, the thought crossed his mind. Pip would have surely found the magic artifact shortly after his transformation and would have changed back long ago if he hadn't picked him up. All these things had only happened because of his interference. Only because of him Pip was probably hurt now. Because he hadn't stopped Leonard. He should have protected his friend! But none of this could be changed now. There… there is nothing I can do about it anymore… nothing… Tears came to Oz's eyes as he thought about all his mistakes. He felt so helpless. And even though he didn't needed to breathe in order to live, he felt like he was almost suffocating. All the times he let others push him around. First Leonard and now this nameless werewolf. Yet all he wanted was to see his friend again. In order to help him. Was that so wrong?

Pictures of the little hedgehog, lying lifeless on the cold ground, while red blood collected in a puddle in front of the tiny body, made his chest tighten, although he actually knew that Pip should have changed back by now. But what if not? What if he was severely injured? He had to get out of here. He needed to run to him! So why? Why… wasn't his body moving? It was so frustrating! Why couldn't he move even though he tried so hard? Even though he wished for nothing more than that. His fears paralyzed him, made his legs shook, and his eyes teared up even more. Why… why was he just such an useless loser… ? "I'm s-s-so s-sorry. J-just bec-because o-of m-me… " Oz sobbed. Pip… Somebody… Please, someone had to help his friend. Someone had to make sure Pip was okay! "Somebody! Help! Please! I beg you! Please, somebody has to help my friend! He's hurt!" It surprised even Oz himself that - despite everything - he somehow managed to raise his voice loud and clear enough and that he was able to extend the radius of his message as far as he could - all over the school grounds. Even though he didn't know if his call for help would reach someone who would follow it. Or when this help was about to arrive. But maybe… maybe someone would find Pip. He needed to hope for the best... His loud cry for help seemed to stop the werewolf for a moment. Irritated, the athlete shook his furry head back and forth as if trying to shake off an annoying fly. But it didn't lasted long, and just a few seconds after Oz had fallen silent, the fierce green glowing eyes focused on him again. And this time the wide open mouth with its sharp rows of teeth approached his face without mercy.

_

To be continued. Next time we reach the final part of the story!

[alteadelight]

mark is going to be in ourskyy2 for bad buddy,, which means that prom is probably going to be in it too,,, which means that lotte and marc also will probably be in it,,, MY CHANGMO AND LOUISAFE ARE COMING HOME GUYS I’M SO EXCITED

[hughungrybear]

Oooh? It's a GeminiPrim series. Looks like the predictions are right with this one. Also, this series reminds me of The Gifted with a pinch of Enigma 😲

[gleesongtournament]

Glee Song Tournament Round 1

[sylveqs]

hi tumblr idk what it post is about because nothing special happening in my life rn but i want to share something