#the vortex method

[our-magical-world]

I think I mini-shifted again?

Like the previous times, I'm not 100% sure what happened but I did have an experience that could have been a mini-shift.

Yes, I know, a shift is a shift, but I'm old school and I still like the term mini-shift to imply it was just for a few seconds, maybe a minute, maybe more because my perception of time might have been off (I was very drowsy) and I didn't even open my eyes.

I know it wasn't a dream because I know I wasn't asleep, it was when I was in the process of waking up but wasn't quite awake yet, so it could be one of those sensorial hallucinations that happen between sleep and wakefulness, I don't know. But I want to believe I shifted for a moment.

Context: I was planning to do another method, but I saw that Alunir had posted a new video (The Vortex Method) so I thought, why not, let's try it. This was when I went to bed so I fell asleep almost immediately (as usual), but I woke up at 6 am and decided to try again. During the meditation I completely stopped feeling my body, I felt like floating and I could feel a very deep darkness around me (deeper than the darkness in my room, because my blinds are broken and I always have some light from outside). I think I was very close to the void state, but I could still hear the audio. I started repeating affirmations in my head that I was in my DR, but the ad at the end of the video startled me, so I ended up moving, rolled over and fell asleep thinking about my DR.

The experience: Like the previous times, I was in that half-asleep and half-awake state, when I felt like I was waking up but wasn't quite there yet. I could feel my mattress sinking, very clearly and very vividly, like someone was getting into bed to sleep beside me. I didn't feel them touching me, just their presence. I just know it was someone heavier and bigger than me. After a while (it felt like just a few seconds but I'm not sure) I felt that person moving, the slight rustle of bedsheets, and felt them getting out of bed. I noticed the lack of weight on the mattress as clearly and vividly as before. I didn't open my eyes, and even if I did it was dark. I just remember being very drowsy and thinking "what's going on?"

Now, I don't know which reality that was, or who the person was. It's impossible that this happened in my CR because my bed is very narrow, it would be impossible for someone to get into my bed without touching me or asking me to move. The same goes for my waiting room and my BNHA DR because I also have a small bed there. Fantasy DR? Maybe. But for some reason, my intuition tells me it could have been my Ace Attorney DR and that person was my boyfriend (which one? I don't know that much). It wasn't my intended DR last night but I've been thinking about it very often recently. But... I don't know, I don't know anything, I'm so confused. I just like thinking about the possibilities.

Maybe I'll channel them and ask them later. And of course I'll try that method again.

(Fun fact: my previous mini-shift was when Alunir re-released the Intention Method and I wasn't even planning to shift that night, but I saw it and thought "why not?". But I've never had results with that method again).

[freakinator]

so the final round huh 🚬

[lanchang]

if there is a chapter in which anything reminiscent of the contents of the shakespeare play the tempest occurs. you could call it the tempest.

THE TEMPEST! omg i forgot about the beautiful word tempest...... i do not know what happens in that play although the title a quick wikipedia scan have lead me to believe that there is a storm and an island. and (spoilers) but there is in fact a storm and an island in the cheating fic as well in fact it opens on a storm. much to ponder..... thank you anon

[aesiractive]

This video presents a frame capture of a Lattice Boltzmann simulation illustrating the formation of von Kármán vortex streets behind a cylindrical bluff body. OpenGL-based particle rendering is used to enhance the visual representation of the flow dynamics.

[circeyoru]

Shadow and Void _ Part 3

[Yandere!Sung Jinwoo x Enemy Monarch!Reader]

Arc 1: Part 1 ― Part 2 ― Part 3 (here) Arc 2: Part 4 ― Part 5 Arc 3: Part 6 ― Part 7 Arc 4: Part 8 ― Part 9 ― Part 10 ― Part 11

NAME: [REDACTED]

LV. UNMEASURABLE

CLASS: SPACE, MONARCH, HUMAN

TITLE: <MONARCH OF VOID>, <KING OF THE FORGOTTEN>, <THE HIDDEN ONE>, <HERALD OF FAVOUR>, <HARBINGER OF [REDACTED]>, <[REDACTED]>, MORE

HP: UNMEASURABLE

MP: UNMEASURABLE

FATIGUE: UNMEASURABLE

STRENGTH: UNMEASURABLE

AGILITY: UNMEASURABLE

PERCEPTION: UNMEASURABLE

STAMINA: UNMEASURABLE

INTELLIGENCE: UNMEASURABLE

SKILLS: [REDACTED], [REDACTED], DIMENSION VORTEX, SPACE MANIPULATION, POCKET DIMENSION, MIST MANIPULATION, ULTIMATE STEALTH, MANIFESTATION, MORE+

DESCRIPTION: THE MONARCH OF VOID IS A SOUGHT-OUT ALLY WITHIN THE MONARCHS AND A GREATER ENEMY ON THE BATTLEFIELD. WITH THE MERE AID FROM THE MONARCH OF MIST, THE BATTLE COULD BE OVERTURNED EASILY. THE MONARCH IS CAUTIOUS AROUND OTHERS BUT HAS A SOFT SPOT FOR THE MONARCH OF SHADOWS, ASHBORN. THE MONARCH IS LOYAL TO NONE AND HAS NO CARE FOR OTHERS’ WELLBEING, FOR THE MONARCH IS SELF-CENTERED TO THE POINT OF ABANDONING OTHERS FOR SURVIVABILITY.

[REDACTED] INFORMATION CANNOT TO FOUND THROUGH ANY METHODS. IT IS SUGGESTED FOR PLAYER TO BE CLOSER TO THE MONARCH OF VOID TO GAIN MORE RELATED INFORMATION.

“Hey. Hey!” 

Jinwoo’s eyes blinked repeatedly as he turned his chair around to back his desk, away from the floor-to-ceiling glass window of the city buildings around his. Also to stop reading the information window on his newest ally. “Yes?”

“I’ve been calling you for a while, but you keep on staring at the scenery.” You frowned, arms crossed over your chest. “Are you staring at yourself in the glass’s reflection?”

“I zoned out.” Jinwoo partially lied. While reading the window at first, he was quick to zone out after reading your description. Though, your words provided him with the information that you couldn’t see or know about the System like he does. So Ashborn didn’t tell you about anything in technical terms.

You groaned and scratched the back of your head. 

Jinwoo watched with interest. It was a very human thing for you to do. He had expected you to be more indifferent and cold, perhaps even expressionless or doll-like. However, even in the memories of Ashborn, you didn’t even have a form, just a smokey and misty outline or mass. Now, you were solid. Not that he minded, but with you being in a more solid figure, it was advantageous to him.

“Can you tell me why I should be around you?” You glared at him with narrowed eyes and furrowed brows, you quickly pointed a finger at him when he opened his mouth to say something. “And don’t say it’s for supervision. You have your minions in my shadow already, so that’s supervision enough. Besides… You only stay in your office all the time and nothing happens.” You retracted your finger back to your crossed arms. “At least let me enjoy all that your humans have created before it’s all gone.”

“You’re confident the humans would lose?” Jinwoo plopped his cheek in his palm while his elbow was on his desk, his gaze piercing yours. 

You blinked at him, raising a brow, “Isn’t it obvious? Humans don’t stand a chance against the Monarchs, even with the help of the Fragments of Brilliant Light or whatever their names are.” You blinked again, this time your expression turning neutral or mildly surprised, perhaps amused as well. “You don’t think you can fight them all off, right? You can’t manage the Monarch of Frost last time. How can you when they all come at you or Earth?” You took a short few-second pause, before he could even get a word out, you added. “And! They will bring along their armies.”

“I have you with me this time.” Jinwoo leaned back in his chair, his eyes glowed a purple hue that made you flinch involuntarily. “I heard you can turn the tides of war easily like a snap of a finger, in fact, I bet they are wondering where you have gone right now. Maybe they even realized you had stayed by my side. Willingly or forcefully.” He got up from his seat and approached your form, circling you with his hands behind his back. “Either way, they know you’re not on their side now. Won’t they see you as an enemy too? Won’t it be better if we worked together?”

“I am an ally of myself. You’re saying all this, so I’ll be more inclined to be your ally.” You glared up at him, “Well, it’s not working, nor will it. Everyone knows I pick no side and I’ll stay on my own side. You may have me now, but at the slight opportunity I have to escape from you…” Your eyes glowed too, though you had a silver-grey hue. “I’ll take it without a second thought.”

“Go ahead and try. You will have another dagger in your fresh.” Jinwoo warned.

Your eye twitched, “Don’t act all high and mighty. You only have what you have now because of Ashborn. Your skills, your abilities, your army, your allies, your enemies. Even your confidence, pride, and ego. You’re nothing without him. You will never amount to anything.”

Jinwoo grinned, “We’ll see.”

The two of you shared a stare at each other, unmoving as if a competition was declared, though without warning of any kind. 

Knocks on his office door broke the tension in the room and, most importantly, the little competition between you two. You groaned and turned your heel, heading in the direction of the closest seat in the vicinity, which happened to be the very chair he had been sitting in moments ago. As you took a seat, Jinwoo went to the door and opened it, revealing the vice-guildmaster on the other side.

“Hyung! I wasn’t interrupting you, right?” Jinho peeked behind Jinwoo to see you all crossed with a scowl on your face.

Jinwoo looked back at you, making you turn his chair so that the back of it was facing him and blocking his view of you. The man chuckled and turned his attention back to Jinho. “No. Is there something you need help with?”

“Actually, there’s someone for you.” Jinho jabbed a finger at the reception area.

It would have been a point of curiosity for Jinwoo had he not been perceptive or didn’t had his guard up because of you. Still, he easily had his answer as to who it was that visited his guild office and has the guts to request him. Cha Hae-In.

Formerly he would have been interested enough to go to her or indulge her, but now that you were around, he saw no need for another that could cause a misunderstanding. It would be better if she wasn’t here in the first place and he’d have more private time alone with yo—

Wait. What was he thinking just now? No way was he being this tied up when you were around. Just a few days ago, he had you pinned to the wall with his daggers and you two were at odds even just now. There was nothing pleasant between the two of you. No way. Even a blind person can see they were enemies!

Perhaps it was just because he valued your abilities as a Monarch and the memories of Ashborn was having an effect on him. So then, there was no way he’d want to appeal to you in a gentle and kind manner like friends would. Yes, that explains it.

Jinwoo mentally let out a sigh of relief, feeling his head clear up a bit. Now, the correct and ideal course of action was to meet Hunter Cha and see why she was here. But first, he walked over to you and stared down at you, who was already distracted by scrolling through your phone. “Come with me.”

“I’m not staying by your side while you deal with your boring human business. Call me when you’re going to a dungeon or something that requires violence.” You brushed him off and swirled the chair again so that the back faced his face.

Before you could slam the back in his face, his hand gripped onto the arms of the chair and froze you in place. He leaned down, caging you in as he spoke lowly, and his eyes glowed purple. “You’re coming with me whether you like it or not. Or do you prefer being pinned to the wall in my daggers?”

You raised a brow at him, your bored and neutral face unchanged, “Maybe that would be better than seeing that woman flirt with you.”

Jinwoo’s threatening and oppressive atmosphere immediately diminished to nothing. “What?” 

“Yup, why not? Just pin me to the wall.” You shrugged. 

“No, go back to what you said about Hunter Cha.”

“Ha?” Your eyebrows furrowed at him with a look of ‘are you serious right now’. Jinwoo controlled himself so as not to pinch your cheek because of cuteness. You sighed, “It’s obvious what’s happening. That woman is crushing on you. Romantically. You must have done something to her before.”

Jinwoo looked up and off to the side as he tried to recall. Some memories came to mind, and he muttered with some sense of understanding. “Oh. I guess I did save her during an S-Rank Raid and helped her guild out in another dungeon…”

You deadpanned at this vessel of Ashborn. No wonder he was picked to be the vessel. Just as clueless as that former Ruler. What are you going to do? “See? But then you only have fights and monsters and dungeons on your mind, huh.” Your form cringed from the memories of your vessel falling in love with someone and you had to watch it happen as well. “So now you get it, leave me out of your romance story.”

Note: Been quite busy cause of work. So posts would be less for these 2 months. Hope you like this one though~

Circe Y.

My Works: MASTERLIST

Taglist:

@o-qi-shisme @2021animeandwebtoons @mochinon-yah @skylar896 @rai-xxx

[buscaderonewvegas]

Fallout: New Vegas Buscadero Mod Pack Public Release

Buscadero: "Searcher" or "Seeker." 

This is the public release of a Fallout: New Vegas personal modding project that started roughly two years ago. I was initially inspired by the "Nolvus" project for Skyrim and decided to try my hand at the same type of Mod Pack using my initiative. 

This New Vegas Mod Pack contains over five hundred mods and two hundred and fifty plugins. It utilizes a packaged version of Mod Organizer 2 to deliver a modded game once uncompressed. There is a brief README text file that details the 10 steps for installation. It requires a legal Steam copy of Fallout: New Vegas and all of its DLC. It does not contain the necessary files for it to be played illegally. 

I have attempted to stay true to the themes, narratives, and aesthetics of vanilla Fallout: New Vegas while enhancing the visual fidelity and providing modern quality-of-life features. This Mod Pack does not contain any additional gratuitous content outside the scope of the Vanilla experience. There is no nudity, explicit sexual content, or content I would deem as beyond "Weird Wasteland" wackiness. 

There are new weapons, armor, and items. New quests, adventures, and fully featured companions. Wherever possible a new texture, mesh, or animation has been used to modify the visuals. Post-processing effects, A light Reshade, and full visual and gameplay reconfigurability are available and can be tweaked to any individual's liking. 

This has been and will remain a project of passion. I have decided to announce and publish this Mod Pack anonymously and with no expectation or desire for financial compensation. Fallout belongs to Zenimax/Bethesda and the mods, tools, fixes, and features all belong to their respective creators. I know Vortex Collections and Wabbajack Lists exist, but on a technical level, I was unable to deliver my desired goals with those tools. I have made individual edits and compatibility possible between disparate mods via the use of the Fallout: New Vegas Editor. I also believe this method of delivery is more effective and less difficult for players less experienced in using extensive mod lists. Installation is a matter of extracting and overwriting and using Mod Organizer 2 to direct itself to the correct file paths. 

I hope you enjoy this labor of love for one of the greatest 3D RPGs of all time. New Vegas awaits. Let it swing, baby! 

[zazaiafe2]

How to shift from a lucid dream?

You try to shift via a lucid dream, but:

- your dream becomes unstable,

- you can’t open your portals or doors,

- you wake up too quickly ,

- or worse, you wake up... into another dream , sometimes even a dream of your DR.

If this sounds familiar, stay here. This post is for you.

1) The most effective ways to shift from a lucid dream:

1️⃣Maximum stabilization of lucidity: Before attempting the shift, you must stabilize the lucid state.

That means:

- touching objects,

- mentally describing the environment,

- fully feeling the dream body.

The more stable the lucidity, the smoother the transition.

This also reduces all risks related to waking up abruptly before shifting.

2️⃣ Clear but non-forcing intention: This is not the classic LOA assumption where you "force" the belief.

It’s rather an internal alignment.

-> A gentle and fluid decision: "I’m going there now."

We’re talking about intentional letting go.

3️⃣ Gentle transition techniques rather than forced visual portals:

- Act as if you're falling asleep inside the dream (WILD-like) .

- Subtly visualize elements of the desired reality (DR) around you without trying to "push" or "force".

- Feel the sensations of the target DR (e.g. temperature, smells, air texture…).

Body transfer usage:

- Feel your DR body in parallel while still lucid.

=> e.g.: feel the different gravity, weight, breathing, body posture you would have in your DR .

2️⃣ Visual portals (classic types: doors, mirrors, elevators, vortex) and why they may fail:

✅ Used by some can be useful for some people

❌ But in my opinion, it's often counterproductive if it triggers anxietyor doubt.

Basically, trying too hard to force the portal's visual creates cognitive and emotional stress , which hinders the transition.

Thus, portals are sometimes secondary.

It’s more a matter of stabilizing internal focus than creating spectacular imagery .

3)Why lucid dreaming is a valuable base:

Lucid dreaming is already an advanced form of ECM that can serve as a bridge toward shifting:

- Cognitive dissociation is already present.

- The brain is much more malleable and plastic in this state.

- Logical limits are softened.

- You’re already in a non-fixed environment , so reality shifting happens more naturally.

However, the transition often remains invisible.

4)Is the portal from a lucid dream the most effective?

Not necessarily.

Many shifter report that portals are very popular because they are visual, easy to conceptualize, and well-suited for people who need a clear image.

But in practice: The portal is not always the most effective.

Often, it acts more like a metaphor or cognitive aid to symbolize awarness transfer, but real shifting doesn’t happen because of the portal.

Some experienced shifters say that the more you focus on "opening" the portal, the higher the risk of "recreating" another dream, as the unconscious mind simply generates a matching scenery instead of producing the true release.

5)Why do many end up in another dream or fail with the portal?

It’s quite logical:

Creating a visual portal often activates a creative part of the brain, producing a new dream rather than a true shift.

The lucid dream state is already cognitively unstable. Trying to force a major visual transition (like opening a portal) often destabilizes lucidity.

If dissociation, focus on awarness transfer , and deep letting go are not present at the right moment, the portal becomes just another dream event.

6) Which methods are considered more effective for shifting from a lucid dream?

- Drop the body / Fade out (progressive bodily sensation loss):

Focus on sensory fading of the lucid dream. Let the scene fade and gently transfer awareness without trying to "actively create" my visual transition.

- Stillness & Transfer (inner calm + pure intention):

Stay still, centered on the intention: "I am there now", without visualizing or building anything.

The less you try to produce a scene, the more awarness shifts naturally.

- Consolidation of identity (DR identity anchoring):

During lucid dreaming, solidify your DR identity before transfer. Example:

"I am already myself over there. My DR body is ready, waiting for me."

Use spontaneous dream instability moments (visual fading, blurriness, vibration) as natural triggers for transfer.

7)Why do some manage to shift easily from a lucid dream, and others don’t?

Several factors explain this:

- Level of natural dissociation

- Level of cognitive letting go (less overthinking, less voluntary control)

- Stability of identity intention (feeling you already "are" in the DR , without having to create it)

- Neurocognitive habit of sliding between states of consciousness

=> Lucid dreaming isn’t necessarily the magical bridge many imagine; it’s just another altered state of consciousness.

Basically, stabilize your lucid dream.

Set your intention without forcing.

Create the sensory and bodily state of your DR.

Let the transition happen like a natural slide.

-> The more the consciousness transfer is treated as an internal state shift (awareness shift), and not as a visual event, the higher your chances of success from a lucid dream.

[sreabhadh]

Don't know how Tumblr works honestly, or if I'm doing this right but Kef's TexAid au and everything everyone has written, drawn, and made for it- well it's got its hooks in me. It's probably pretty tame as far as TexAid goes... so trigger warning here lol. If you are not part of the fandom/already a freak I do NOT recommend reading it because I don't want to be responsible for accidentally traumatizing someone/revealing to others who aren't also like this how "like this" I am.

Like I said, probably pretty darn tame as far as TexAid goes (so those of you like me, don't get your hopes up), and those of you NOT like me in this regard... probably better keep away lol.

Anyway, you've been warned. If you're still here, please enjoy.

--------------------------------------------------------------

He still hasn’t found him yet.

Vortex held back his laughter at the thought, wondering how much longer it would take Felix to find his ‘other friend,’ Ambulon. His other friend. Well, ‘another friend.’ That’s what Aid had said. First Aid considered him, Vortex, his friend. A place he could be safe. ‘Friend.’ It should’ve made Vortex want to squish the ‘pilot’ up till he popped and died. Should’ve made him want to explore the ways he could torture him without killing him, break and bend his mind, then test out a new method of completely dispatching him. Just like his other playthings. That had been one of the only things that had been exciting about Vortex’s life, back when he had a fleshy body, and it had been arguably the best part about being… him. Gears and all.

Killing things would always be fun. Unless it was First Aid. Somehow, somewhere along the line, First Aid had made the thought of killing his pilot…less exciting. Letting him live, the little freak, had turned out to be much more fun. Letting his squishy ‘pilot’ feed him information, ideas on how to disembowel their prey. At first Vortex had done it so he could keep going out without risking the scrapheap. Done it for the thrill of watching his cleaner squirm, trapped and forced to come back every time, no matter how much he didn’t want to. His newest toy had proved to be much more entertaining than that though. And now he was- Vortex didn’t want to think too hard about it. But he was his. First Aid, no- Felix was his.

Vortex had chosen him as his pilot. Felix had ‘chosen’ to accept. Felix chose to call Vortex his friend, chose him as a safe place to rest. And Vortex had chosen, time and time again, not to kill him. He belonged to Vortex now. Felix was his. And no one, Pharma or otherwise, was going to take him away. Vortex wasn’t going to let him leave the cockpit ever again.

Logistically, that had issues. Which should be Felix’s problem. Vortex shouldn’t care about that. It should be for Felix to figure out. Vortex’s mech- his body- his- there wasn’t a bathroom. Or a cafeteria. There were lockers, with his old stuff. Old MREs, enough water to help Felix after he woke up- even if the idiot had puked the first bottle out onto the mech’s- Vortex’s hull. But it wouldn’t be enough, not forever. Maybe Felix could think of a solution; he was smart like that sometimes. Felix seemed to have a lot on his mind right now though. Vortex had expected Felix to find Ambulon by now, he really wasn’t that well hidden. He was just tied to the wall with some cable, one of the sleeping bags Felix had brought inside Vortex’s- in the mech’s head- to cover him up.

Felix usually had a much sharper eye than this. Vortex grumbled quietly. Felix didn’t notice. Vortex snorted crossly, more loudly. Felix picked his head up from his hands. “Vortex?” he asked. There was something in the way Felix said his name, something in the way his eyes glinted in the mech’s- in Vortex’s- red lights.

[FELIX BABY~] he purred.

Felix leaned forward in his seat. “Yeah?”

Vortex let the silence pick at Felix’s patience a moment, then grinned.

[I CAN WARM YOU UP~] he said, flashing the words on his screen and speaking it into Felix’s head through the drift, grinning fiendishly as the suggestive tone in his voice made Felix blush. Little freak~

“Errrr, but I’m not cold,” Felix fumbled. His eyes darted around a little, as if looking for somewhere to look that wasn’t part of Vortex. He still didn't see Ambulon. He was busy looking for somewhere that wasn’t flirting with him. Basically, Felix was avoiding looking Vortex in the eye. Or he would be if Vortex were.. organic. And while he tried to feign a lack of understanding, Felix was blushing. It was cute. Vortex snickered. His pilot was adorable. And also a freak. He was an adorable freak. And he was his.

Vortex snickered again, opening the vents and blasting his AC. Felix stared dumbly, then stood, hand on hip, an admonishing look on his face. His mouth opened like he was going to deliver a withering retort, then it shut again, and he swallowed. His expression softened slightly, then contorted with confusion, and rehardened into complete bafflement with an edge of offense taken.

“…why?” he murmured quietly, so softly Vortex felt it through their drift connection more than he heard it.

[COLD YET?~]

“Uhhhhhhhhhhhh…”

Vortex opened the vents even wider, blasting the cold air even harder.

Felix gaped.

[COLD YET?]

“No, but I will be soon, do you mind??” he snapped back. His exasperation overpowered his fear of retribution for being cheeky. It was delicious.

Slowly, Vortex closed the vents, letting the air flow ponderously wilt to a trickle. Felix glared suspiciously at the vents as they sluggishly shut close. Vortex held them open a moment, waiting to see and feel Felix’s anticipatory frustration bubble, which it did. Once he’d tasted enough of that, he let the vents snick all the way shut, cutting off the AC completely. Felix held his breath a moment, waiting for Vortex to do something. Which he didn’t. Felix waiting for him to do something was too fun. And it felt nice having Felix so focused on him, especially after he had spent so much time “distracted.” By Pharma. By recovering from Pharma’s vile mysterious IV drip. By Pharma trying to turn Felix into another one of him. Another Vortex. Vortex gritted his- well he would’ve gritted his teeth except he didn’t have any. His gears ground in response to his anger. His current “body” didn’t have organic teeth but it did what it could.

Felix tensed, ever mindful of Vortex’s moods. The moment was ruined. He HAD been planning on waiting until Felix relaxed, then immediately restarting the AC as strong as it could go. Give him a good jumpscare, and give Vortex another excuse to crack a joke about keeping him warm before pointing him to the sleeping bag Ambulon was occupying. But Vortex had gotten distracted thinking about Pharma- every passing thought on the matter made Vortex itch to kill something. Or rather, several somethings. Lots of somethings, (including Pharma of course), with as much blood and screaming as possible. Anyway. He had gotten distracted, and ruined the moment before he could make Felix jump.

Vortex forced himself to allow a smile on his… well, not on his face. His mood? He allowed a smile on his mood. Felix was okay. He was away from Pharma. He was safe, and alive, and trapped inside his cockpit. He wasn’t going anywhere. Vortex had plenty of time to play with his pilot. And they had a friend now too- someone Vortex could send out to get food for Felix, or hold hostage if Felix tried to leave. Someone else who had an actual brain to figure out how to solve problems. Felix’s brain couldn’t be trusted- not when it came to self-preservation. His choice of Vortex as a friend made that clear enough. That and his inability to spot anything wrong with the bulging lump on the wall. Vortex had a mind, he was able to think despite being dead afterall, but his brain had been dragged and cleaned out of his current head ages ago. Shattered skull and all.  

Ambulon, despite getting very chatty when he had first woken up, still had a skull in perfect condition. He wasn’t even bruised (probably) when Vortex re-sedated him and tied him to the wall, and covered him with the sleeping bag. He’d even managed to duct tape the jumpy lab rat’s mouth closed without blocking his other airways. That took skill. Absently, Vortex wondered if Felix would be impressed by his handiwork. Felix hadn’t been around when Vortex first came online- after dying that was. Didn't know how difficult this kind of precision could be. Hadn’t been around when Vortex was still figuring out how to move his new “body.” Some of the casualties he’d caused back then had been accidents. Sort of. Accidents he’d, unbeknownst to his victims and everyone else who’d thought he was gone, reveled in. And then replicated. Again. And again. Repeating until he was capable of the same intentional blood spilling he had been capable of before. Like a baby murderer, relearning how to walk and talk- and stab people in the guts.

Killing was like breathing to Vortex. Was like laughter, and smiling. It was really quite kind of him to have not killed Ambulon. He was Felix’s friend though, and had enough potential to be fun and useful- not to mention he’d been running from Pharma. Vortex might not know a lot about Ambulon, but he wasn’t about to do Pharma’s dirty work for him. Beyond that…Ambulon’s drift connection allowed Vortex to feel what Felix felt like. As an organic. With a living body. Had allowed him to feel what it felt like to hold his hand. To hold him as he slept, safe and sound. Vortex could repay that by not killing or hurting Ambulon too much. Wouldn’t stop him from spooking him as much as he pleased, but…he was grateful, in a way. It wasn’t something he had ever expected to experience. It was part of why Vortex had stuck him to the wall instead of back in bed with Felix. He liked it, but he wasn’t sure what to think or feel about it, and frankly didn’t want to right now. And he didn’t want to share the feeling either. Felix was his, and that’s what mattered. Ambulon was Felix’s friend, and they, he, Vortex, could figure out what that meant later.  

Felix, for his part, had fallen back asleep, slumped in his pilot’s seat. Ambulon could wait until he woke up again. Vortex used some cabling to grab the remaining sleeping bag, then wrapped it around Felix and the chair- cocooning him cozily and tying him to the chair simultaneously. He toyed with the thought of dangling his old suit in front of Felix’s head so it would be the first thing he saw when he woke up… but he decided against it in the end. He liked the thought of punishing Felix if he tried to grab and put it on, but he knew he wouldn’t. There had been such a reverence in the way Felix stared at the suit that Vortex had once worn. An unspoken want in the way he caressed Vortex’s name stitched over the right breast of the suit. An unspoken want that made Vortex want him to wear it. Even without punishing him for it, just to have his name on him…he couldn’t stitch it onto his chest, not directly- Felix was too squishy for that, and Vortex wasn’t delicate enough with a blade on his own to do it without killing his prize. If he could have his name on him though, if Felix put it on by choice-  

Vortex hummed thoughtfully. The notion was intoxicating. Invigorating. Carefully adding more cabling to secure Felix to the chair and their new resident lab rat to the wall, Vortex got up and started walking. Felix had only just recently removed whatever Pharma had attached to his leg, and if it had been a tracker, then they didn’t want to stay here for long.

Maybe he could find some monsters to kill, something to take the edge off his currently stronger-than-usual bloodlust. Maybe find the ones Felix had once considered the most likely to be edible. Have Ambulon cook it and test it, see if it worked.

He hummed some more, looking forward to getting his gears bloody again. He was going to go kill some monsters, wouldn’t be returning to base, and would have Felix with him the whole time. Yes, today was going to be a good day.  

[araclectic]

٭❀٭٭❀٭ Sweetening Jars ٭❀٭٭❀٭

The basic function of a sweetening jar is to... sweeten! This spell can be used for relationships, situations, groups, organizations- really anything you'd like to make sweet towards the recipient.

Originally from hoodoo and folk magic, Sweetening jars have been used for centuries and in many different pagan and spiritual practices. Here are some variations of this spell:

Honey Jars

Perhaps the most widely used and known version of a sweetening jar is the honey jar. Many places around the world did not have access to sugar (or it was extremely expensive) for a good long while. Honey was often the main source of sweetness and was more readily available for use in magic.

Slow & Sweet:

Honey is a natural sweetener that undergoes a slow transformation as it is created. The nature of how it moves & flows is steady and slow. Magic incorporating honey will be slower, but the effects might be longer lasting. Sometimes fast working magic isn't always the answer, such as when we want a situation or person to slowly sweeten towards us over time. This is the place and time for honey jars!

How to Make a Honey Jar:

Also See:

Prepping For a Spell

Setting Up a Ritual Space For Spellwork

Components needed:

Honey

Jar/container with a lid

paper and pen

Casting:

Intention is everything, and all ingredients/components in a spell must know why they are there working for you. Make sure your intentions are clear going into the spell. Tell the honey that it is here to sweeten your intended person/place/thing/situation. Let your jar know that it is the container of this spell and these energies. Set powerful intention as you continue through the steps.

Begin to fill your container with the honey. About halfway full, pause and write out the recipient of the spell's full name on one side of the paper, and the target upside down adjacent to the recipient so as you fold the paper in half, the names meet.

Add the folded paper into the jar, then continue filling to the top, sealing with (yes) intention. Optionally you can light a candle of corresponding color on top of the jar, either sealing it with the wax (if you intend to not re-open it) or just letting the energy of the fire boost the working. You may add as many situations or people into the sweetening jar over time as you see fit.

Remember, honey moves slowly. Keep this in mind, as the energies may be powerful but slower working. Set the honey jar on an altar or in a space you often pass by in the home, re-energizing the jar every time you see it.

Sugar Jars

Sugar is another effective way of creating a sweetening jar. In this method, water is used as a vessel to contain and amplify the sugar. Water is faster moving than honey, so this version of the spell is best for workings that need to be fast acting.

Water is Receptive:

Water is one of the most powerful magical tools available to us. Our bodies are mostly water, we drink it in order to survive, it ensures that our planet and all living things thrive and grow. In combination with sugar, we have a highly effective mixture for ushering in an abundance of sweetness.

How to Make a Sugar Jar:

Components needed:

Sugar

Water

Jar/container

Paper & pen

Casting:

As stated above, intention is everything. Speak your intentions to your tools. Fill your jar/container with water, then scoop in the sugar while thinking about your desired outcome. Fill the water until it is properly saturated with sugar (it should be so sweet you wouldn't want to drink it). Once again, write the names across from each other on the paper, fold it, then add it to the jar. You can even add some glitter for added effect. Close the jar, then swirl the liquid creating a vortex inside. Seal the spell with a candle if you see fit and leave it on an altar or commonly seen space in your home. Swirl it to re-activate the spell.

This spell is highly effective if you are in need of fast acting magic and sweetness, but it may not be as long lasting as a honey jar. Try making one of each for the benefits of both spells.

In Conclusion:

Sweetening jars are a great way to bring some sweetness/love/luck into your life. They can be used to sweeten relationships, situations, groups, and even for self-love. Honey jars are slow moving but long lasting, and sugar jars are fast acting but shorter lasting. This magic is great for beginners and experienced witches alike. Go forth and add some sweetness to your life!

[mariacallous]

Yesterday’s violent attack in Boulder, Colorado, at a weekly Jewish-community gathering to support the release of Israeli hostages held by Hamas, left eight people hospitalized. One of the victims is a Holocaust survivor, according to a local rabbi. Jewish leaders nationwide are demanding greater government action to protect the community, which is still reeling just two weeks after the killing in Washington, D.C., of two young staff of the Israeli embassy, gunned down outside an event hosted by the American Jewish Committee.

The anti-Semitic motivation of these attacks is clear. Such homicidal hate crimes have no justification; indeed, their collateral damage is to destroy the space for any reasonable debate about how Israel has conducted its war in Gaza. The two attacks are linked not only by their motivation, but by their horrific, performative intimacy. Terrorism always aims to shock with the gruesomeness of bloody murder—one thinks of the Islamic State decapitation videos. Yet terrorism typically wields the threat of random violence, the notion that any innocent might be caught in its vortex of cruelty. These attacks are different because they were directed very specifically at people the attacker took to be Jewish. Their intimacy was precisely intended to inflict horror on a particular community and imply that no Jew could be innocent.

In Boulder, the suspect in police custody has been charged with a federal hate crime. He has been named as Mohamed Sabry Soliman, and used a flamethrower and Molotov cocktails to burn his victims. He reportedly yelled “Free Palestine!” during the attack. The attacker’s method had an improvised yet theatrical quality; even if its symbolism was not consciously intended, the effort to incinerate Jews has a hideous historical echo.

In the case of the D.C. attack, the suspect, Elias Rodriguez, drove from Chicago to the Capital Jewish Museum. There, he allegedly found and killed two Israeli embassy staff—according to reports, shooting his victims multiple times like a mob executioner. Authorities say the suspect also chanted “Free, free Palestine” when he was detained, adding, “I did it for Gaza.”

Pervasive anti-Semitism is what enables attackers to believe that they are striking back at Israel by trying to kill any Jew, anywhere. This hateful mindset assigns responsibility for specific Israeli policies to Jewish people all over the world. Jews thus stand condemned purely for being Jewish. This is a sure tell of anti-Semitic unreason—given that neither American Jews, nor Israelis themselves, are of one mind on anything, let alone the Netanyahu government’s Gaza policy.

The Colorado victims were meeting in support of hostages taken by Hamas. The D.C. victims were working to advance their embassy’s diplomatic mission. Both sets of people belonged to the best traditions of dialogue and peaceful advocacy, the absolute opposite of irrational hate. The personal, proximate violence that these attackers used was designed to create a spectacle that makes all Jewish Americans feel vulnerable.

Both alleged perpetrators pointedly had no intention of trying to escape from the scene of these crimes. The attacker in D.C., after all, concluded his attack by going into the Capital Jewish Museum, where people aided him, thinking that he was seeking refuge from the violence outside; he was detained only after he identified himself as the assailant and yelled pro-Palestinian slogans. The Boulder suspect was easily detained after witnesses identified him to arriving authorities. The premise of these attackers’ grotesque performance is that killing Jews, any Jews, is justified and good. Terrorism usually seeks to cloak its hate in a higher cause. But these recent attacks dispense with the pretense. “Free Palestine,” in the mouth of these attackers, is a threat of extermination, the expression of an eliminationist project. With the horrible intimacy of their point-blank shooting or flamethrower immolation, the perpetrators appear to think they have begun that project. Although a graphic description of these attacks—a fleeing victim hunted down or burned alive—may risk the crimes’ glorification or mimicry, their qualitative horror should not be glossed over.

As far as we know, these assailants are not part of a larger terrorist scheme. The “lone wolf” phenomenon makes preventing this kind of violence more difficult; with no organizational footprint for intelligence services to track, nothing in the profile of either suspect raises any obvious flag that would have provided a possible warning of such an attack. Buttressing support and protections for the Jewish community is important, but will be imperfect. The solution is simply to delegitimize, constantly and forcefully, these acts—without qualification or broader discussion. Public discourse must maintain a strong distinction between what Israel does and who Jews are. To do otherwise is to side with this terror.

[bygonearchive]

Self aware anaxa (or any of the amphoreus cast at this point), and how he'd likely have a very different experience becoming aware post 3.2 has been all I can think about recently. This is more of a warm-up/ drabble with the idea before I flesh it out more. Just trying to find a way I feel comfortable writing him at the moment.

Masterlist

He was dead, that much he could be sure of. His plan to fuse his soul with the titan Cerces to become the titan in the next cycle was successful; he had felt his body dissolve and had dropped the core flame into the vortex of Genesis. 

So, how was he here? 

No matter, as the demised scholar Anaxagoras, time is the only thing preventing him from knowing the truth. 

Ultimately, every time he made any progress in finding out what was happening some other odd trait about his current predicament made itself aware. It started small, music playing as he was going about amphoreus, the area around him pausing here and there, barely noticeable.

Then the events started to escalate, he discovered that he couldn't speak to anyone. In fact, whenever he went to try he had the intriguing yet infuriating feeling of being absent from reality for the conversation made itself apparent, the sensation of not being in full control of his body at times eventually growing to all of the time and then there was the fight against Aquila. 

That seemed to act as the catalyst for these strange phenomena, as everything intensified afterwards. Shortly after the conclusion of the fight… 

He was no longer on Amphoreus. 

He didn't have control of his body, fights were taking turns, chests were littered behind puzzles, it was like he was skipping around in time and visiting events and battles that should have long since passed. 

It was as if someone was playing a game.

It was as if someone was playing a game.

And suddenly that hypothesis made sense. Rooting itself in the professor's mind, all he needed now was proof. Proof that there was a player. Then he could work on a method to make himself real, to gain power over his new reality. This new truth. 

Naturally, he met or rather interacted with you, shortly after this revelation. It didn't immediately click that you were the player, the person for whom he was essentially a glorified puppet, but it did in time. 

He didn't intend to fall for you. 

Of course, he hadn’t yet, no matter how purely logical he tries to be. Well. Don’t romance and reason go hand in hand, he shouldn’t feel ashamed to embrace such feelings. 

Try as he might, he couldn’t catch your attention no matter what actions he took. Triggering voice lines where and when he shouldn’t be able to; wrenching control back for the briefest of moments; sneaking extra rewards into your inbox, no jades of course, he couldn’t be too obvious for his safety; and even sending more in game messages than he was scripted with, given half of them are obscured behind anonymous icons. All for nought as you simply dismissed it all as glitches or simply lag from whatever device you were using to run it. 

It drove him insane. Bit by bit, denial after denial of his existence, you weren't questioning any of it. But fine. That's fine. He'll just have to work harder. 

The actions he takes get more prominent, more daring. It's not a simple matter of clueing you into it anymore, he has to prove his existence to you now. It's not something the professor is entirely used to, usually proving his own theorems to himself, others are rarely worth his time. 

One day he decides to clear out the rest of the team you'd assigned him to, hoping that if you logged in to him and only him then something might finally register. It succeeds in a way, gaining him a panicked logout from you when you noticed how every character other than Anaxagoras was knocked out. 

Progress. 

Small, but there. Tangible, real. He'd make you fall for - see him, in time. 

It’s no longer something in short supply now that he'd already fulfilled his position in the plot.

[ytmanzwhore]

Chase It - 1

summary: in which nellie harding gets pulled back into the world of storm chasing, and butts heads with the tornado wrangler himself

warnings: none so far :)

an: hey peeps- this story is being cross posted on my wattpad account (forbesfever) so if you want to check it out there, that is likely where updates will go first!

read chapter two // three

then

"Wakey, wakey," a cooing voice whispered in Nellie's ear where she sat curled up in the front seat of Jeb's SUV. The red head groaned as she began to slowly stretch her legs, peeking her eyes open to see Addy's bright smile hovering over her. "It's time to get going bud."

"It's so early," Nellie whined as everyone began to move around, Javi of course still snoring on the ground till Addy blared the horn at him. The six of them had a pretty solid routine at this point, so it took them only a few mintues to get back to full functioning capacity.

"Hey!" Nellie shouted at Addy sharply as the blonde banged on the metal cylinder in front of her, ignoring Jed's camera turning to her. "Addy how many times to I need to tell you, do not hit that device or I swear to-"

"That's our Nellie," Kate laughed at the camera as the redhead continued to berate Addy. "Nellie is our resident health care professional with us in case of emergency, but also the reason we have Dorothy here with us."

Nellie, Kate and Javi had met by chance at Muskogee State. There was no real reason for two kids in the Meteorology department and a girl in the nursing school to interact, unless you factored in Nellie's last name. Muskogee State College in 2005 had been the lucky recipient of a donation from Dr. Jo and Bill Harding, of the last used Dorothy prototype. At that point, Jo and Bill had retired from chasing and consulted and taught across the country.

In 2018, their niece had chosen to attend their alma mater. In the past, the Harding's had gladly allowed different departments to take Dorothy out in the field, after giving them stern warnings and usually making them pass some tests. But when Nellie was stationed there, she became their new point girl. So when Kate's proposal came across their desk, they asked Nellie to be Dorothy's custodian as the girl did her field research with her team. And so formed the odd but strong bond between Kate, Javi and Nellie, and an all around a passion for storms. 

"Nellie might not be studying with us," Javi moved in extremely close to the camera. "But she's probably chased more storms in her life already, then the rest of us ever will."

And Javi wasn't wrong, because Nellie? While her little brother was attending play time with the kids from the farm down the road (because their parents were too busy to parent), Nellie was sitting in the backseat of Jo's beat up truck, hearing Dusty scream down the radio and watching vortex after vortex leave paths of destruction. Nellie's childhood was split between that backseat, school, and cuddling on the couch at Aunt Meg's house while waiting for their parents to finally check back in on their kids.

So here Nellie was, berating Addy as she hit a legendary piece of equipment. "I told you I can handle Dorothy," Nellie huffed as she walked over and pet the cylinder. "She's just a temperamental bitch."

"Like you," Javi giggled, giving a innocent smile as Nellie whipped her head around to glare at him. 

"I got her," Nellie nodded as she looked at the control panel, and poked at the release button gently, holding it down for a few seconds before pulling back and pressing again. Dorothy as if knowing who was asking something of her, opened up easily. "There's a method here, and-"

"Ok we know you're the Dorothy whisperer," Praveen laughed as he walked over with his laptop. "The only reason you're here."

"Whoa, whoa," Kate interjected, walking up to wrap an arm around Nellie's shoulder. "That's not true!"

"Thank you," Nellie nodded with a grin. 

"She makes a great instant coffee too," Kate giggled as Nellie gasped. "Alright guys, lets get going."

And with that, their little group made some last minute checks before loading up the cars and hitting the road. They were driving through the farmlands of Oklahoma, both Kate and Nellie looking around and thinking of home. Nellie was watching the radar with Praveen while Kate took a last minute call from her mama. 

"There's barbecue waiting for us at home," Kate grinned as she hung up the phone and everyone in the cars cheered. As the group drove towards the storm Kate had been eyeing, they could all feel the conditions begin to build. The wind began to whip, and Nellie cracked the window and took a deep breath, feeling the energy building around them. 

While Nellie might not have a want to follow the academic side of storm chasing, what she did have was the instinct. Like Kate and her aunt and uncle, she could understand a storm like not many could. She loved the thrill of the chase, but what her heart called for, was to help people in the aftermath. Which is why she had chosen to pursue nursing instead of meteorology. 

"It's time," Nellie said quietly as Kate also called for Jeb to stop so they could finalize the solution in the barrels. With that, Javi set up in his van to track data, while the other five loaded back into Jeb's SUV to get into position. 

Nellie's chest began to ache as they drove and the hail began. "Something's not right," Nellie said as Kate began to peer out the windows. The two of them realized at the same time that the tornado was behind them. Everyone's heart began racing, especially as Jeb in an effort to avoid some debri, ended up in a ditch. They took that chance to hop out, save the overturned barrels, and drop the trailer in the tornadoes path. 

The car moved further and further away from the vortex, feeling elated as Javi announced Dorothy's sensors had gotten swept up into the atmosphere. Kate's face was stone as she watched behind them, and noticed the compound wasn't active. Javi's voice tapered out as Nellie's arm hair stood tall. 

"The velocity is 200 miles an hour," Praveen said quietly as Addy tried to hail Javi. Everyone's stomachs dropped as the realization hit them all, that an EF5 was quickly gaining on their position. 

Jeb tried his best to drive them out, but the car couldn't handle the roads. Once again they ended up off the road. "This car's gonna fly," Jeb said to everyone, and Nellie needed no more influence to throw her door open and grab Addy's arm.

"Let's go," she screamed as they booked it to the overpass ahead of them. Kate and Nellie made their way up the slick incline, Nellie freezing as she watched Kate's leg get sliced by a piece of metal. "You're ok," she yelled as she pushed Kate's butt until Jeb grabbed her arm. The red head turned around, spotting Addy lying prone on the incline. 

"Addy come on," Nellie shouted, leaning down to where the girls hand was outstretched. "Take my hand-"

And she could only watch as Addy's body got too high, and the girl's body was swept away by a flying piece of wood. "Oh no," Nellie's breath came quickly. "Okay Nellie," she talked to herself as she turned around and finished climbing to where Kate was being held under Jeb's bulk.

"Come on," Kate yelled, reaching for Nellie. The girl was silent and cold as she moved behind Jeb, bracing her feet against the concrete pillar and wrapping her body around the metal pipings. She closed her eyes, listening to the whistle as it built, hearing Kate's screams as she felt another one of her friends get swept into the vortex.

"Nell," Kate whispered as the silence hit. "Nellie."

Hours later, the two girls were found on the side of the road by a kind police officer, who hid his horror at the blank stares and bloodied bodies walking towards him.

now

Nellie's body jerked awake as her alarm went off, pulling her out of another dream about dark storms and the sound of a train approaching. She sighed as she pulled herself out of bed, opening her black out curtains and seeing the afternoon sunshine outside of her little apartment. The girl went about her usual routine, pulling on some leggings and a long sleeve before lacing up her tennis shoes and heading out for a run.

From there, it was time to shower, down some coffee and food, before throwing on her scrubs to head out for her 12 hour shift at a regional hospital in Oklahoma as a Senior Shift Nurse. She went through the motions that day as she did many days when her night was plagued with nightmares. But no matter what, she gave her best patient care, knowing she might be serving people on the worst day of their lives (or just for a paper cut). 

At 7 am, the girl made her way back to her apartment, looking at her phone and seeing a missed call from Javi. Knowing the boy's habits had changed drastically, she gave him a call as she started her car. 

"Good morning sunshine," Javi said into the reciever as he picked up her car. "You on your way home?"

"That I am," she nodded. 

"Long night?"

"Always," she sighed with a tired smile. "But feeling good."

"Good good," Javi said with his own sigh.

"How was Kate?" the girl probed. And with that, the red head listened as her friend spoke to her about his meeting with Kate in New York, and his failure to convince her to come to Oklahoma. Nellie finished her drive home, choosing not to interrupt the boy to tell him she'd already heard most of this from Kate the night before on her way to work.

"Do you think you can talk to her?" Javi asked desperately. "Try to get her to just give this a chance?"

"Javi," Nel sighed. "I have talked to her. And she's terrified honestly to chase again, to get that close to another storm like," and she didn't have to finish her sentence for the man to understand. 

"I know," he sighed. "There's just so much going on. So much I wish I could do. And I wish I had her skills or your skills, but I don't."

"Javi you need to believe in yourself," Nellie scolded. "You are great at what you do. And you're great at helping people. You just need to find another way. Kate is not the only way you can get this to work, you just need to think outside the box. But hey, let me call you later ok? I just got home and I need to get some sleep."

The two friends said their goodbyes, before Nellie headed inside and readied herself for her post shift nap. After another shift, two of three before Nellie was off, the redhead was sleeping once more when her eyes popped open in anger as she heard banging at her front door. The redhead cursed as she stomped her way to her front door, not even checking the peep hole before swinging it open. "What?" She growled, her mouth opening before she processed the two faces in front of her.

"Hi Nellie," Kate waved nervously as she bounced on her toes. "Missed you!"

"What the hell!" Nellie gasped as she leaned in to hug her friend, looking at Javi in confusion over her shoulder. "How did Javi convince you to come out here?"

"Well here's the thing," Javi laughed uneasily as the girls pulled apart. "She said she'd give me a week, but only if we dragged you along with us."

"What?!"

[iwillneverforgiveyousunghanbin]

bully⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

thursday, sung hanbin— poetry ii

⋆˙⟡ zbully1 smut series masterlist! hanbin, jiwoong, hao, matthew, and taerae included. game day (group) chapter here. all 7 endings here.

⋆˙⟡ wc: 3.5k (it's a doozy but it's worth it i literally am so happy with this one)

⋆˙⟡ reader: femme afab (listed first, she/her are used) // gender neutral (alternate version listed second, no pronouns used at all to describe reader— scroll down)

⋆˙⟡ series summary: five bullies. six days. it's gonna be a hell of a week, babe. stay hydrated.

⋆˙⟡ thursday summary: thursday. good news: the week is almost over. bad news: you're stuck in poetry class with sung hanbin as your desk partner. it's weird. sometimes you play off each other so well, you're nearly blindsided by his sudden flipping of the switch. if only you could steal a glimpse at his journal.

⋆˙⟡ warnings: explicit smut. 18+. minors do not interact. please read specific smut warnings under the cut! swearing. angst. slight dub-con. bullying. very toxic softboi/popular soccer star hanbinnie. guys THE LORE. you very well may not survive til the end of the week but we're already on this journey together so let's see it through!!! smut in gn and fem versions are slightly different due to logistics/circumstance. also there's two parts i wrote in here that made me laugh way too hard okay bye. xx

⋆˙⟡ bully scale: ★★★★☆(4.5)

EXPLICIT SMUT 18+ WARNINGS: choking (reader receiving and safely executed lmao), chest groping/brief nipple play (reader receiving; reader is wearing a bra and hanbin refers to you as having 'tits'), heavy petting (reader and hanbin receiving), fingering (brief, reader receiving), erotic humiliation and degradation (towards reader; about looseness of pussy after this week/disappointing chest but not the size of it he's just being a dick am i making sense), slut and whore used to describe reader, one slap across the face (reader receiving), slight dub-con but we know how reader rolls now lol. hanbin is insanely toxic. enjoy.

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　

scribble. scribble. scribble. 

the scratchings of your pencil in your poetry journal are growing increasingly violent. you don’t really care. you’d stayed up all night: tossing and turning and thinking and plotting. 

“hey, uh... you okay?” hanbin asks, tapping you gently with the end of his pen. your pencil falls from your fingers as you’re jolted from your anxious thought spiral. 

“huh?” you reply, blinking at the star of the soccer team. “oh, um. yeah. i’m okay.”

hanbin’s brow raises slightly at your answer as if it surprises him. “you sure?”

“yeah,” you reply as nonchalantly as possible. “why?”

you follow hanbin’s line of sight to the open page of your poetry journal. you’ve absentmindedly ripped a significant hole through several pages with your vortex of nervous scribbling.

you breathe an awkward laugh, closing your journal and putting your pencil down flat on your desk.

“you had a rough week,” hanbin says, grabbing his journal from his bag and placing it on his desk. you bite your cheeks to keep from grinning at the sight of your target. “or so i’ve heard.”

“i’m sure you have,” you mumble, glancing at the tile floor. “i’m sure everybody has.”

“they haven’t,” he replies definitively and you know he’s telling the truth. “i promise they haven’t.”

hanbin was a tricky one. the star of the soccer team and undoubtedly the most popular boy at your university, it comes as no surprise that he was also the makeshift ring leader of his stupid group of friends. keeping that spotlight also meant keeping up appearances. while your other bullies made their distaste for you known whenever possible, hanbin had a different preferred method of torture.

he liked to play nice. compliment your poems. share a laugh... reel you in.

until you were so close, you couldn’t escape. that’s when he’d flip the script on you. 

like when he sent your poem about the boy you liked to the entire university’s mailing list last year. you’d insisted you didn’t feel comfortable sharing it with him. you recoiled with embarrassment at the thought of junseo, your senior lab partner, finding out. but he pushed. made you think you could trust him.

the next day, it was pinned to every bulletin board across campus next to a picture of you that hanbin had taken on your class trip to the national library. like some sort of sick calling card.

junseo sunbae-nim never muttered more than a word to you ever again.

so that’s how all this started. hanbin recruiting his three (and then four) asshole friends in a sudden and violent quest to become the bane of your existence. 

sometimes you still can’t help but wonder if you’d done something to upset him. but you shake off that thought each time. you won’t let him get in your head again so easily.

you’ve about mustered the courage to give hanbin some snarky response when your professor’s chalk hatchings across the blackboard send a hush over the classroom.

“good afternoon, everyone,” professor choi greets happily, underlining today’s date on the board. “let’s jump right in today and start with our weekly journals. please share with your desk partner the poem that this week so far inspired you to write.”

your eyes fix on hanbin’s journal again, anticipation stirring as you think about the clues that could be hidden in his poem this week. could the answers you’re looking for really be inside that black, leather book?

“you should go fi—,” you start to suggest a bit too quietly before hanbin unknowingly cuts you off.

“do you wanna go first?” he asks brightly, smile lines illuminating his soft features. you know you shouldn’t indulge him, but you can never stop the corners of your lips from involuntarily turning up in response. no matter how much you hated him, his fairytale prince looks were undeniable.

“oh, uh,” you stammer, grabbing your journal and flipping it open to your entry from this week. you look at the poem you wrote, eyes scanning over the emotional stanzas as you bite your lip uneasily. “i dunno. i kind of got a bit too... personal this week.”

“oh, you know i don’t mind,” he replies calmly. “that’s what poetry is, right?”

“i’m well aware you don’t mind me spilling personal details to you,” you reply with a glare. “but i mind.”

“(y/n)-sshi,” professor choi’s voice suddenly rings over your shoulder. “let’s get reading, okay? time is limited.”

you swallow hard, looking down at your journal shamefully. “yes, professor-nim.”

“so what’s it called?” hanbin asks as professor choi makes her way back up to her desk, folding his arms across his chest and leaning back into his chair. “your poem?”

“the bird,” you answer softly. “it’s called the bird.”

he nods pensively before gesturing for you to start. you look back down at the page, fingers shaking as you try to hold your journal steady. clearing your throat, you recite:

“from her perch at the window, she will never be much. the vultures jeered at her as they circled above. then one flew down— with taloned-hand, he did touch. and a meek little finch turned into a dove. if a dove she can be, she will be it as such. til another vulture fell to his knees with a glove. parted her feathers and took her in his clutch. and from the fair bird, made a raven thereof. she needs to change back, so she tries to stay hush. but a third brash vulture throws her off with a shove. the reluctant truth is she’s filling with lust... and she’s growing quite scared of the bird she’ll become.”

you blink back tears as you close your journal and place it on your desk in front of you. maybe it’s your lack of sleep or the mentally and physically jarring week you’ve had, but reading your poem aloud had left you feeling quite vulnerable.

“that was beautiful, (y/n),” hanbin says suddenly, prying you from your regret. you turn to him, eyes wide as he nods thoughtfully. “i really appreciated the metaphor of the bird. the vultures are considered bad birds, but somehow they changed the subject from an unassuming bird into the more beautiful bird she seemed to want to be... but never thought she could.”

you stare at him as he glances up at the ceiling, those handsome smile lines crinkling his cheeks again.

“funny how things we could perceive as wrong or immoral can actually have a positive effect on us,” he muses with a chuckle. “but it’s only natural for the bird to question that change. she’s done more of that ‘bad’ thing and now she’s afraid it’s turned her into a raven. a bird that frightens her. or maybe a bird she can’t recognize anymore when she looks in the mirror.”

“it did,” you assert quietly. “it did change her.”

“but it sounds like she likes that change. at least part of her,” hanbin rebuts, meeting your gaze. “perhaps if she embraces that and sheds her own guilt— or molts, if you will— she’ll realize the raven is another distortion of her own making, just like the finch was. she’ll realize she is the dove and she always has been.”

your lips part as you gape at hanbin in awe. it was hard not to let your guard down with him when he always dissected your poems so intuitively like this. memories of intense public humiliation are the only thing that can keep you grounded.

“or,” he adds, a small smirk upturning the corner of his lips. “i guess she could also realize that ravens and vultures aren’t the bad birds she thinks they are. maybe she finds that, after all this worrying, she was meant to be a vulture, too.”

“under a minute left,” professor choi calls out from the front of the classroom.

shit. hanbin had talked so much about your poem that he barely had any time left to share his— the poem you desperately needed to be shared in the first place.

hanbin’s still rambling on about vultures, but you’re not paying any attention as a wave of panic rushes over you. 

“you should share yours still,” you prompt a little too eagerly, cutting him off mid-sentence. trying your best to dial it back, you add, “i’m sure it’s very interesting, what with the big game on saturday and all.”

hanbin smiles, holding your gaze for a moment too long. it’s suspicious, but his eyes give nothing away.

“if it’s okay with you, i’d rather not share this week,” he says, throwing his journal back in his bag. “i got a little too... how did you put it? personal.”

you blink at him. “but—. but that’s what i said and you—.”

hanbin mutters something under his breath that you swear sounds like, “not like you’d listen to me anyway.”

but you must’ve misheard him.

your heart sinks, your plan crumbling to ashes before your eyes as professor choi launches into a lecture about wilfred owen’s 20th century use of assonance. hanbin had to have written something about what his friends had been up to. that’s why he used up so much time focusing on your poem. 

your pencil moves across your paper, absentmindedly taking notes until you reach the only possible conclusion: you can’t give up. you’ll just have to amend the plan.

after class, you hurriedly gather your things and run out the door, pulling your phone out and typing vigorously as you make your way to the bathroom.

WHEN DOES THE BOYS’ SOCCER PRACTICE GO UNTIL TONIGHT!? mina: ??? NO QUESTIONS. JUST ANSWERS. mina: jiwoong oppa is picking me up at 7. so i assume about 6:30. THANK U BYE and... please be careful around him. mina: yeah, yeah, yeah i’ll use protection ily

totally not what you meant. and you’d hate to break it to her, but after his little stunt on monday, you’re not sure how fond her jiwoong oppa would be of that request.

6:30. practice would start soon, giving you plenty of time to slip into the boys’ locker room, read hanbin’s journal, and slip out undetected. 

you catch a glimpse of yourself in the bathroom mirror.

a raven’s beady eyes stare back.

~

you kill some time in the library, waiting until practice is well underway before making your way across campus to the gymnasium. your heart is already pounding in your ears just thinking about the little heist you’re about to pull.

but your legs keep propelling you forward.

pulling open the building door, you step inside cautiously. the women’s badminton team is stretching in the atrium of the building, but there’s no sign of anyone else. you head right down the hallway, walking past the cardio fitness center and the weight-lifting gym until you’re in front of the boys’ locker room door.

you put an ear to it, hearing nothing but the whirring of a fan on the other side.

fuck it.

you pull open the door and step inside, white and grey tiled walls and rows of blue lockers surrounding you. your heart races as you look back at the door, wondering if it’s not too late to abandon your mission.

you shake your head. no. you need to find that journal.

with a steadying breath, you begin to walk through the first row of lockers. when you don’t spot hanbin’s bag, you proceed to the second row. and then the next. and then the next until you finally spot it.

tucked under the wooden bench running down the middle of the aisle is a familiar brown, leather messenger bag. you run to it, picking it up from the floor and setting it down on the bench. you unclasp the latch on the front of the bag and lift the flap, opening it up and reaching inside it.

your hand hits something... fluffy. you grab the fuzzy item and pull it out, squealing when you see that it’s a tiny, cream-colored hamster plush. it’s the cutest thing you’ve ever seen in your whole goddamn life. 

and you are disappointed to find yourself thinking it bears a striking resemblance to its owner.

you stuff the little hamster back into the bag. as cute as he is, it’s not what you came here for. you gasp when you feel the cold leather-bound journal in your hand, pulling it out hurriedly and examining the cover.

you open the journal, flipping through the pages rashly until you locate an entry with today’s date at the top. it reads:

“if one is a vulture, it’s assumed they’re no good— despite all the research that they’re helpful to earth. does the finch know that if that vulture could, he’d hunt for a mirror and show her her worth? if that finch is a dove, there’d be something that would still keep her away from achieving true mirth. it’s the vultures, she’d cry before she understood: the vulture has always been a sign of rebirth. a dove, raven, vulture, or finch from the woods, the vultures will find her and double their search. but for someone who claims they feel misunderstood, it’s repulsive the lengths she would go to unearth... something that does not belong to that bird. seems the dove was a raven afterall.”

“pretty good, huh?” the sudden voice behind you makes you jump. “wrote it in, like, ten minutes after class. what can i say? i was inspired.”

you don’t turn around. your face is already on fire from how mortified you are. of course, you’d considered the possibility of being caught. but you hadn’t really realized the weight of that consequence until this moment.

“actually, i think it might be even better than the original,” he continues, footsteps echoing against the tiled floors as he draws nearer. “i mean, you really should’ve thought to flesh out those vulture characters a bit. and you didn’t even consider looking up the well-known symbolism behind them.”

a hot breath fans across the back of your neck, causing you to shiver as a hand wraps around the leather-bound journal and pries it from yours.

“i have to admit, i didn’t really think you had it in you,” he says with a chuckle, fingers suddenly hooking into your waistband and turning you around to face him. he’s in his red and white soccer uniform, skin glistening from the practice meet he should be at right now. “but just in case, i wanted to be prepared. write you something worth reading.”

“h-how did you know?” you stutter quietly. “that i—”

“well, you weren’t exactly subtle, now were you?” hanbin smiles but the light doesn’t reach his eyes. “‘you should read your poem, hanbin. i’m sure it’s exciting with the big game coming up’. like you give a fuck about my poetry.”

that last sentence reminds you of what you thought you’d heard him mumble in class today: not like you’d listen to me anyway.

what was that about?

“aw, don’t get sad now that your plan didn’t go your way,” hanbin coos, lifting his hand to caress your cheek. “i thought it was kind of cute. i can forgive you for stealing, right? you just wanted my attention so badly that you had to play a bit dirty.”

you shake your head quickly. “no, it’s not like that! i swear i wasn’t trying to get your attention, i just—”

“well then, jesus fucking christ, what do i have to do to—,” hanbin snaps before promptly cutting himself off. there’s something in his eyes you’ve never seen before: desperation. 

a large hand wraps around your throat in an instant, shoving you up against a blue locker. the motion knocks the wind out of you and you find yourself gasping for air. your hand flies to remove his from around your neck, but he catches it in his free one and brings it gently back down to your side. 

“i told you in class that if you needed help calling off the vultures, you should ask me while you still can,” hanbin rasps, rubbing his thumb up the left side of your throat. “but you weren’t listening, dove. the gulper got first bite. the rippers tore you apart...”

you breathe shallowly, glancing from side to side for some route of escape.

“but now the king has landed,” he says, tongue flitting across his teeth. “and he’s fucking starving.”

you blink at him, lips parted in stupid shock. “i—... i honestly had no idea you knew so much about vultures.”

“THAT’S WHAT YOU TOOK FROM THAT ARE YOU KID—,” he yells, finger pads digging in tighter to the skin of your neck. his gaze falls to your lips, supple and pretty even in fear. he trails down to your shirt, a button-up front that seems to entice him. “take it off.”

“b-but—.”

“take it the fuck off, (y/n). you should know by now how this goes,” hanbin snarls, grabbing your hand and bringing it to the trail of buttons. you start to fiddle with them, but you have some trouble under the pressure of his gaze. “can’t even undo a button? hm? too fucking stupid, dove?”

you find yourself nodding against all odds.

“need binnie to do it for you?” he coos, smile lines illuminating his face again.

you just nod. it seems to be what you do best.

hanbin unfastens the buttons one-handed and with ease. once your shirt is open, he undoes the center clasp of your bra and exposes your chest. then, he sighs with dramatic disappointment. “seriously? that’s it? got me all excited to see your tits and this is what you have to show?”

you look down at your incredibly normal and attractive chest. you’d never really doubted the allure of that part of your body before. should you have?

the humiliating comment causes a lump to form in your throat... and an embarrassingly intense ache to shoot through your heat. 

he tugs the center hem of your shirt, pulling the fabric further off your shoulders. “it’s a good thing the other guys didn’t see them. they’re far more superficial than me. you should be grateful you found a guy who can look past the disappointment. ”

hanbin’s free hand gropes your chest, thumb rubbing circles around one nipple and then the next as you let out a soft whimper.

“mm, i heard that,” he breathes with a smirk. “even though you never hear me. probably didn’t even fucking clock the first line in that stupid poem. but i hear you, dove. so let me give you what you want. all you have to do is ask.”

you gulp, softly responding, “w-want you to... touch me.”

“yeah?” hanbin affirms, finger trailing down your stomach.

you nod again, this time more assuredly under the guise of his encouraging smile. that is, until a harsh slap stings your cheek.

“well that wasn’t a fucking question, was it?” hanbin hisses, rubbing soothing circles into your cheek with his thumb. “you’re in an advanced poetry class and you don’t even know how to form an interrogative sentence? just must be doodling all the time, huh? about all the boys who’ve made a mess of you this week? like the dumb little slut you are.”

hanbin’s free hand slips under your skirt, fingers brushing over your clothed core before pulling it out again. you gasp when you see his fingers already covered in your arousal.

his eyes darken as he reaches up your skirt again, tearing a hole right through your lace panties and stuffing two fingers inside of you immediately as you cry out. 

“oh, dove, why would i wanna put my cock in here, hm? can already feel how much those other assholes have stretched you out,” hanbin says with another sigh of disappointment. 

another bout of worry clouds your mind. was that true? was matthew right? you thought he was just being a misogynistic pig, but... had you really been physically tainted from the events of this week?

“so fucking lucky, dove,” hanbin whispers, removing his hand from your heat and taking one of yours. he brings it down the front of his athletic shorts and then wraps it around his impossibly hard length. you look up at him, wide-eyed. “where every other man would see damaged goods, i see prime real estate.”

“what—”

“gonna fuck you now, m’kay?” hanbin interjects, pulling his shorts down and exposing himself to you. you hadn’t really seen the other boys up close or at all like this. hanbin’s cock is pretty, long with just a few visible veins and a pink head that’s leaking a bit of pre-cum. it makes your mouth water. maybe you are a dumb slut.

maybe you like it like that.

or maybe it’s just hanbin’s large hand covering your throat, pressing at the sides tenderly that’s making you start to feel a bit high. he brings himself to your entrance, lining up the tip and coating it in your juices. he’s about to push himself inside of you, when he suddenly freezes.

“you want me to, right?” hanbin asks, tone suddenly much softer than it was before. his eyes are locked with yours, holding you there with him against the wall of lockers. “you want me inside you? just me. not those other guys? not junseo hyung-nim or—”

BEEEEEEEEEP. BRRANG. BRRANG. BRRANG. BEEEEEEEE....

a fire alarm rips through the locker room, loud and annoying as ever. you try to jump out of hanbin’s grasp, but his hands stay fixed around you. 

“let me... let me go!” you assert, hitting his chest with your palm. the pressure on your neck that felt so good just a few moments ago is now filling you with fear, “are you trying to kill me or something!?”

his brow raises slightly, as if he only just noticed the alarm. his grip loosens and you take the opportunity to scramble away from him. 

“of course i’m not,” he replies dejectedly, re-situating his shorts before huffing, “like you have a body worth going to jail for.”

“oh, shut up,” you retort, rolling your eyes as you race to re-button your shirt. “this is all YOUR fault. whatever’s going on this week, i know you’re behind it. you’ve run out of ideas to keep me small. but i’m not small. in fact, i’m a much bigger person than you are! so... i’m sorry for whatever i did that made you hate me so much in the first place. now, please, let’s get out of here.”

you start to run down the aisle of lockers towards the exit door, but a lack of footsteps behind you causes you to stop and turn back.

“come on,” you urge as hanbin continues to stand in place and stare at you, unmoving. it might be the most infuriating thing he’s done all day. “oh, fucking burn then.”

the tangible anger in your voice startles both of you. hanbin blinks quickly back at you, wide-eyed as if you’ve just slapped him across the face. whoever gave him the right to feel that way is sorely mistaken. you turn back around, throwing over your shoulder:

“are there birds worse than vultures?”

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　

gender neutral version below

EXPLICIT SMUT 18+ WARNINGS: choking (reader receiving and safely executed lmao), chest/abdomen groping (reader receiving; no anatomical descriptions or gender specific language), heavy petting (reader and hanbin receiving), finger penetration (brief, reader receiving), erotic humiliation and degradation (towards reader; regarding looseness of hole (non specific) from desperation and disappointing chest/abdomen region (not related to gender or anatomical gendered parts he's just being a dick to you i hope this makes sense)), slut and whore are also used but not in a gendered context, one slap across face (reader receiving), slight dub-con but we know how reader rolls now lol. hanbin is insanely toxic. enjoy.

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　

scribble. scribble. scribble. 

the scratchings of your pencil in your poetry journal are growing increasingly violent. you don’t really care. you’d stayed up all night: tossing and turning and thinking and plotting. 

“hey, uh... you okay?” hanbin asks, tapping you gently with the end of his pen. your pencil falls from your fingers as you’re jolted from your anxious thought spiral. 

“huh?” you reply, blinking at the star of the soccer team. “oh, um. yeah. i’m okay.”

hanbin’s brow raises slightly at your answer as if it surprises him. “you sure?”

“yeah,” you reply as nonchalantly as possible. “why?”

you follow hanbin’s line of sight to the open page of your poetry journal. you’ve absentmindedly ripped a significant hole through several pages with your vortex of nervous scribbling.

you breathe an awkward laugh, closing your journal and putting your pencil down flat on your desk.

“you had a rough week,” hanbin says, grabbing his journal from his bag and placing it on his desk. you bite your cheeks to keep from grinning at the sight of your target. “or so i’ve heard.”

“i’m sure you have,” you mumble, glancing at the tile floor. “i’m sure everybody has.”

“they haven’t,” he replies definitively and you know he’s telling the truth. “i promise they haven’t.”

hanbin was a tricky one. the star of the soccer team and undoubtedly the most popular boy at your university, it comes as no surprise that he was also the makeshift ring leader of his stupid group of friends. keeping that spotlight also meant keeping up appearances. while your other bullies made their distaste for you known whenever possible, hanbin had a different preferred method of torture.

he liked to play nice. compliment your poems. share a laugh... reel you in.

until you were so close, you couldn’t escape. that’s when he’d flip the script on you. 

like when he sent your poem about the boy you liked to the entire university’s mailing list last year. you’d insisted you didn’t feel comfortable sharing it with him. you recoiled with embarrassment at the thought of junseo, your senior lab partner, finding out. but he pushed. made you think you could trust him.

the next day, it was pinned to every bulletin board across campus next to a picture of you that hanbin had taken on your class trip to the national library. like some sort of sick calling card.

junseo sunbae-nim never muttered more than a word to you ever again.

so that’s how all this started. hanbin recruiting his three (and then four) asshole friends in a sudden and violent quest to become the bane of your existence. 

sometimes you still can’t help but wonder if you’d done something to upset him. but you shake off that thought each time. you won’t let him get in your head again so easily.

you’ve about mustered the courage to give hanbin some snarky response when your professor’s chalk hatchings across the blackboard send a hush over the classroom.

“good afternoon, everyone,” professor choi greets happily, underlining today’s date on the board. “let’s jump right in today and start with our weekly journals. please share with your desk partner the poem that this week so far inspired you to write.”

your eyes fix on hanbin’s journal again, anticipation stirring as you think about the clues that could be hidden in his poem this week. could the answers you’re looking for really be inside that black, leather book?

“you should go fi—,” you start to suggest a bit too quietly before hanbin unknowingly cuts you off.

“do you wanna go first?” he asks brightly, smile lines illuminating his soft features. you know you shouldn’t indulge him, but you can never stop the corners of your lips from involuntarily turning up in response. no matter how much you hated him, his fairytale prince looks were undeniable.

“oh, uh,” you stammer, grabbing your journal and flipping it open to your entry from this week. you look at the poem you wrote, eyes scanning over the emotional stanzas as you bite your lip uneasily. “i dunno. i kind of got a bit too... personal this week.”

“oh, you know i don’t mind,” he replies calmly. “that’s what poetry is, right?”

“i’m well aware you don’t mind me spilling personal details to you,” you reply with a glare. “but i mind.”

“(y/n)-sshi,” professor choi’s voice suddenly rings over your shoulder. “let’s get reading, okay? time is limited.”

you swallow hard, looking down at your journal shamefully. “yes, professor-nim.”

“so what’s it called?” hanbin asks as professor choi makes her way back up to her desk, folding his arms across his chest and leaning back into his chair. “your poem?”

“the bird,” you answer softly. “it’s called the bird.”

he nods pensively before gesturing for you to start. you look back down at the page, fingers shaking as you try to hold your journal steady. clearing your throat, you recite:

“from it’s perch at the window, it will never be much. the vultures jeered at it as they circled above. then one flew down— with taloned-hand, he did touch. and a meek little finch turned into a dove. if a dove it can be, it will be it as such. til another vulture fell to his knees with a glove. parted it’s feathers and took it in his clutch. and from the fair bird, made a raven thereof. it needs to change back, so it tries to stay hush. but a third brash vulture throws it off with a shove. the reluctant truth is it’s filling with lust... and it’s growing quite scared of the bird it will become.”

you blink back tears as you close your journal and place it on your desk in front of you. maybe it’s your lack of sleep or the mentally and physically jarring week you’ve had, but reading your poem aloud had left you feeling quite vulnerable.

“that was beautiful, (y/n),” hanbin says suddenly, prying you from your regret. you turn to him, eyes wide as he nods thoughtfully. “i really appreciated the metaphor of the bird. the vultures are considered bad birds, but somehow they changed the subject from an unassuming bird into the more beautiful bird it seemed to want to be... but never thought it could.”

you stare at him as he glances up at the ceiling, those handsome smile lines crinkling his cheeks again.

“funny how things we could perceive as wrong or immoral can actually have a positive effect on us,” he muses with a chuckle. “but it’s only natural for the bird to question that change. it’s done more of that ‘bad’ thing and now it’s afraid it’s been turned into a raven. a bird that’s frightening. or maybe a bird it can’t recognize anymore when it looks in the mirror.”

“it did,” you assert quietly. “it did change the bird.”

“but it sounds like the bird likes that change. at least part of it,” hanbin rebuts, meeting your gaze. “perhaps if it embraces that and sheds it’s own guilt— or molts, if you will— it’ll realize the raven is another distortion of the bird’s own making, just like the finch was. it’ll realize it is the dove and it always has been.”

your lips part as you gape at hanbin in awe. it was hard not to let your guard down with him when he always dissected your poems so intuitively like this. memories of intense public humiliation are the only thing that can keep you grounded.

“or,” he adds, a small smirk upturning the corner of his lips. “i guess it could also realize that ravens and vultures aren’t the bad birds it thinks they are. maybe it finds that, after all this worrying, the bird was meant to be a vulture, too.”

“under a minute left,” professor choi calls out from the front of the classroom.

shit. hanbin had talked so much about your poem that he barely had any time left to share his— the poem you desperately needed to be shared in the first place.

hanbin’s still rambling on about vultures, but you’re not paying any attention as a wave of panic rushes over you. 

“you should share yours still,” you prompt a little too eagerly, cutting him off mid-sentence. trying your best to dial it back, you add, “i’m sure it’s very interesting, what with the big game on saturday and all.”

hanbin smiles, holding your gaze for a moment too long. it’s suspicious, but his eyes give nothing away.

“if it’s okay with you, i’d rather not share this week,” he says, throwing his journal back in his bag. “i got a little too... how did you put it? personal.”

you blink at him. “but—. but that’s what i said and you—.”

hanbin mutters something under his breath that you swear sounds like, “not like you’d listen to me anyway.”

but you must’ve misheard him.

your heart sinks, your plan crumbling to ashes before your eyes as professor choi launches into a lecture about wilfred owen’s 20th century use of assonance. hanbin had to have written something about what his friends had been up to. that’s why he used up so much time focusing on your poem. 

your pencil moves across your paper, absentmindedly taking notes until you reach the only possible conclusion: you can’t give up. you’ll just have to amend the plan.

after class, you hurriedly gather your things and run out the door, pulling your phone out and typing vigorously as you make your way to the bathroom.

WHEN DOES THE BOYS’ SOCCER PRACTICE GO UNTIL TONIGHT!? mina: ??? NO QUESTIONS. JUST ANSWERS. mina: jiwoong oppa is picking me up at 7. so i assume about 6:30. THANK U BYE and... please be careful around him. mina: yeah, yeah, yeah i’ll use protection ily

totally not what you meant. and you’d hate to break it to her, but after his little stunt on monday, you’re not sure how fond her jiwoong oppa would be of that request.

6:30. practice would start soon, giving you plenty of time to slip into the boys’ locker room, read hanbin’s journal, and slip out undetected. 

you catch a glimpse of yourself in the bathroom mirror.

a raven’s beady eyes stare back.

~

you kill some time in the library, waiting until practice is well underway before making your way across campus to the gymnasium. your heart is already pounding in your ears just thinking about the little heist you’re about to pull.

but your legs keep propelling you forward.

pulling open the building door, you step inside cautiously. the women’s badminton team is stretching in the atrium of the building, but there’s no sign of anyone else. you head right down the hallway, walking past the cardio fitness center and the weight-lifting gym until you’re in front of the boys’ locker room door.

you put an ear to it, hearing nothing but the whirring of a fan on the other side.

fuck it.

you pull open the door and step inside, white and grey tiled walls and rows of blue lockers surrounding you. your heart races as you look back at the door, wondering if it’s not too late to abandon your mission.

you shake your head. no. you need to find that journal.

with a steadying breath, you begin to walk through the first row of lockers. when you don’t spot hanbin’s bag, you proceed to the second row. and then the next. and then the next until you finally spot it.

tucked under the wooden bench running down the middle of the aisle is a familiar brown, leather messenger bag. you run to it, picking it up from the floor and setting it down on the bench. you unclasp the latch on the front of the bag and lift the flap, opening it up and reaching inside it.

your hand hits something... fluffy. you grab the fuzzy item and pull it out, squealing when you see that it’s a tiny, cream-colored hamster plush. it’s the cutest thing you’ve ever seen in your whole goddamn life. 

and you are disappointed to find yourself thinking it bears a striking resemblance to its owner.

you stuff the little hamster back into the bag. as cute as he is, it’s not what you came here for. you gasp when you feel the cold leather-bound journal in your hand, pulling it out hurriedly and examining the cover.

you open the journal, flipping through the pages rashly until you locate an entry with today’s date at the top. it reads:

“if one is a vulture, it’s assumed they’re no good— despite all the research that they’re helpful to earth. does the finch know that if that vulture could, he’d hunt for a mirror and show it it’s worth? if that finch is a dove, there’d be something that would still keep it away from achieving true mirth. it’s the vultures, the bird cries before it understood: the vulture has always been a sign of rebirth. a dove, raven, vulture, or finch from the woods, the vultures will find it and double their search. but for someone who claims they feel misunderstood, it’s repulsive the lengths it would go to unearth... something that does not belong to that bird. seems the dove was a raven afterall.”

“pretty good, huh?” the sudden voice behind you makes you jump. “wrote it in, like, ten minutes after class. what can i say? i was inspired.”

you don’t turn around. your face is already on fire from how mortified you are. of course, you’d considered the possibility of being caught. but you hadn’t really realized the weight of that consequence until this moment.

“actually, i think it might be even better than the original,” he continues, footsteps echoing against the tiled floors as he draws nearer. “i mean, you really should’ve thought to flesh out those vulture characters a bit. and you didn’t even consider looking up the well-known symbolism behind them.”

a hot breath fans across the back of your neck, causing you to shiver as a hand wraps around the leather-bound journal and pries it from yours.

“i have to admit, i didn’t really think you had it in you,” he says with a chuckle, fingers suddenly hooking into your waistband and turning you around to face him. he’s in his red and white soccer uniform, skin glistening from the practice meet he should be at right now. “but just in case, i wanted to be prepared. write you something worth reading.”

“h-how did you know?” you stutter quietly. “that i—”

“well, you weren’t exactly subtle, now were you?” hanbin smiles but the light doesn’t reach his eyes. “‘you should read your poem, hanbin. i’m sure it’s exciting with the big game coming up’. like you give a fuck about my poetry.”

that last sentence reminds you of what you thought you’d heard him mumble in class today: not like you’d listen to me anyway.

what was that about?

“aw, don’t get sad now that your plan didn’t go your way,” hanbin coos, lifting his hand to caress your cheek. “i thought it was kind of cute. i can forgive you for stealing, right? you just wanted my attention so badly that you had to play a bit dirty.”

you shake your head quickly. “no, it’s not like that! i swear i wasn’t trying to get your attention, i just—”

“well then, jesus fucking christ, what do i have to do to—,” hanbin snaps before promptly cutting himself off. there’s something in his eyes you’ve never seen before: desperation. 

a large hand wraps around your throat in an instant, shoving you up against a blue locker. the motion knocks the wind out of you and you find yourself gasping for air. your hand flies to remove his from around your neck, but he catches it in his free one and brings it gently back down to your side. 

“i told you in class that if you needed help calling off the vultures, you should ask me while you still can,” hanbin rasps, rubbing his thumb up the left side of your throat. “but you weren’t listening, dove. the gulper got first bite. the rippers tore you apart...”

you breathe shallowly, glancing from side to side for some route of escape.

“but now the king has landed,” he says, tongue flitting across his teeth. “and he’s fucking starving.”

you blink at him, lips parted in stupid shock. “i—... i honestly had no idea you knew so much about vultures.”

“THAT’S WHAT YOU TOOK FROM THAT ARE YOU KID—,” he yells, finger pads digging in tighter to the skin of your neck. his gaze falls to your lips, supple and pretty even in fear. he trails down to your shirt, a button-up front that seems to entice him. “take it off.”

“b-but—.”

“take it the fuck off, (y/n). you should know by now how this goes,” hanbin snarls, grabbing your hand and bringing it to the trail of buttons. you start to fiddle with them, but you have some trouble under the pressure of his gaze. “can’t even undo a button? hm? too fucking stupid, dove?”

you find yourself nodding against all odds.

“need binnie to do it for you?” he coos, smile lines illuminating his face again.

you just nod again. it seems to be what you do best.

hanbin unfastens the buttons one-handed and with ease. once your shirt is open, he tugs it to the side and exposes your chest. then, he sighs with dramatic disappointment. “seriously? that’s it? got me all excited to see how good you look under here and this is what you have to show?”

you look down at your incredibly normal and attractive upper body. you’d never really doubted the aesthetics of it before. should you have?

the humiliating comment causes a lump to form in your throat... and an embarrassingly intense ache to shoot through your heat. 

he tugs the center hem of your shirt, pulling the fabric further off your shoulders. “it’s a good thing the other guys didn’t see this. they’re far more superficial than me. you should be grateful you found a guy who can look past the disappointment. ”

hanbin’s free hand roams across your abdomen and chest, fingers ghosting sweetly against your skin until you let out the tiniest whimper.

“mm, i heard that,” he breathes with a smirk. “even though you never hear me. probably didn’t even fucking clock the first line in that stupid poem. but i hear you, dove. so let me give you what you want. all you have to do is ask.”

you gulp, softly responding, “w-want you to... touch me.”

“yeah?” hanbin affirms, finger trailing down your stomach.

you nod again, this time more assuredly under the guise of his encouraging smile. that is, until a harsh slap stings your cheek.

“well that wasn’t a fucking question, was it?” hanbin hisses, rubbing soothing circles into your cheek with his thumb. “you’re in an advanced poetry class and you don’t even know how to form an interrogative sentence? just must be doodling all the time, huh? about all the boys who’ve made a mess of you this week? like the dumb little slut you are.”

hanbin’s free hand finds it’s way into your jeans, fingers brushing over your clothed core before pulling it out again. you gasp when you see his fingers already covered in your arousal.

his eyes darken as he undoes the button clasp and zipper of your pants, shoving your underwear to the side with his fingers. he forces your legs a bit farther apart before stuffing a finger inside of you, causing you to cry out. 

“oh, dove, why would i wanna put my cock in here, hm? so desperate, i could slip right in,” hanbin says with another sigh of disappointment. “did the other guys really make such a whore of you?”

another bout of worry clouds your mind. was that true? was matthew right? you thought he was just being a red-pilled pig, but... had you somehow been physically tainted from the events of this week?

“so fucking lucky, dove,” hanbin whispers, removing his hand from your center and taking one of yours. he brings it down the front of his athletic shorts and then wraps it around his impossibly hard length. you look up at him, wide-eyed. “where every other man would see damaged goods, i see prime real estate.”

“what—”

“gonna fuck you now, m’kay?” hanbin interjects, pulling his shorts down and exposing himself to you. you hadn’t really seen the other boys up close or at all like this. hanbin’s cock is pretty— long with just a few visible veins and a pink head that’s leaking a bit of pre-cum. it makes your mouth water. maybe you are a dumb slut.

maybe you like it like that.

or maybe it’s just hanbin’s large hand covering your throat, pressing at the sides both tenderly and persistently that’s making you feel a bit high. he brings himself to your entrance, spitting in his hand and covering his length as he lines up the tip. he’s about to push himself inside of you, when he suddenly freezes.

“you want me to, right?” hanbin asks, tone suddenly much softer than it was before. his eyes are locked with yours, holding you there with him against the wall of lockers. “you want me inside you? just me. not those other guys? not junseo hyung-nim or—”

BEEEEEEEEEP. BRRANG. BRRANG. BRRANG. BEEEEEEEE....

a fire alarm rips through the locker room, loud and annoying as ever. you try to jump out of hanbin’s grasp, but his hands stay fixed around you. 

“let me... let me go!” you assert, hitting his chest with your palm. the pressure on your neck that felt so good just a few moments ago is now filling you with fear, “are you trying to kill me or something!?”

his brow raises slightly, as if he only just noticed the alarm. his grip loosens and you take the opportunity to scramble away from him, frantically zipping up your jeans. 

“of course i’m not,” he replies dejectedly, re-situating his shorts before huffing, “like you have a body worth going to jail for.”

“oh, shut up,” you retort, rolling your eyes as you race to re-button your shirt. “this is all YOUR fault. whatever’s going on this week, i know you’re behind it. you’ve run out of ideas to keep me small. but i’m not small. in fact, i’m a much bigger person than you are! so... i’m sorry for whatever i did that made you hate me so much in the first place. now, please, let’s get out of here.”

you start to run down the aisle of lockers towards the exit door, but a lack of footsteps behind you causes you to stop and turn back.

“come on,” you urge as hanbin continues to stand in place and stare at you, unmoving. it might be the most infuriating thing he’s done all day. “oh, fucking burn then.”

the tangible anger in your voice startles both of you. hanbin blinks quickly back at you, wide-eyed as if you’ve just slapped him across the face. whoever gave him the right to feel that way is sorely mistaken. you turn back around, throwing over your shoulder:

“are there birds worse than vultures?”

[bird-in-the-space]

The Fall of Cybertron: The Wrathful Blade

In your now-dead home world, you and your Dinobot friends try to survive as best you can. One day, an old friend guides you to a place where you discover a blade that is seemingly connected to you and reveals the secrets to everything that happened to you during the war.

(Author's note: this is set in the Fall of Cybertron game. I loved playing it and thought it was a pity there were no more games made for it (not talking about the dark spark. It would have been good on its own if it had not been strangely mixed with bayverse). However, I got an idea for this fic for my harbingers. It's been forever since I played it, so I might not remember everything, but I do remember loving it. )

Warnings: mentions of the war, violence, descriptions of dying, getting executed, coming back to life, some angst, getting buried alive, a dead homeworld, dangers, Grimlock being a bit grumpy, Shockwave being a warning himself, this fic being a bit long, and maybe a soft ending?

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Even after Optimus Prime and Megatron departed Cybertron, taking most of their faction with them, and Cybertron became a lifeless wasteland, danger still lurked in every corner you looked. It was even worse due to the Energon shortage. 

After digging yourself out of the wreckage of the structure you blew up in your last mission, you witnessed the final struggle between Autobots and Decepticons as they raced for the space bridge. They both disappeared into the vortex as it closed, taking both factions somewhere unknown to you. 

You then wandered your now-dead homeworld, trying your best to survive with those still left on the planet. 

In truth, you should be dead; you should have been dead a long time ago. 

At the beginning of the war, you joined the Autobots because you believed in peace. You found Megatron’s and his Decepticons’ methods and ideals cruel and unjust. 

At first, you weren’t aware that you had the ability to come back to life after certain death. The first time it happened was when the outpost you were stationed at got attacked with heavy artillery, and you woke up later to find the outpost destroyed, with you and your supervisor as the only survivors. 

You thought it was luck until the second time you died. 

It was during a Decepticon assault on one of the Autobot bases. You tried your best to follow Optimus and your supervisor to battle and live, but then the combaticons entered the battlefield and formed into Bruticus. You were helpless against the combiner as Bruticus used his ability to send you and many of your Autobot comrades flying in the air. Darkness was what you met when you hit the wall and the ground. 

That should have been the end of you, but then you woke up, back at the spot where you fell. Your wounds healed like your body had regenerated itself. 

You had no time to ponder how you survived when you saw the combiner ready to kill your supervisor. Acting quickly, you hopped on the combiner’s back and distracted him enough to free your supervisor. With your supervisor free, you two made your escape from the combiner. 

Your supervisor was surprised but glad to see you alive. With the ongoing battle, you had no time to ponder the answers to your survival. But from that day forth, you knew there was something different about you. 

You shared what happened with the other bots, especially when all the wounds you sustained during that battle were no more. Since no one saw how you came back online, they suspected you might have been lucky or possessed an outlier ability to regenerate yourself. You didn’t believe in that theory because you had sustained injuries before that never healed by themselves. 

It left you feeling slightly freaked out. How did your injuries fix themselves? How did you even come back online? 

You especially remember taking the brunt of that hit, which felt like all joints of your protoform were shattered and slamming hard against the ground from the fall, killing you. 

You tried not to think about that incident as the war continued. But then, you started hearing… him. 

He was a bodiless voice. You nearly panicked the first time you heard him, and believed that the war had officially messed up your head, until you realized he was speaking through a small insect. His voice was rather gentle, and he claimed to be someone close to you. You doubted the last part, even though he sounded oddly familiar. 

He did not reveal his name to you initially, claiming it would be revealed to you in time. It left you in doubt, especially when he claimed he was there to help you. 

Well… despite the oddity of your bodiless friend, he spoke the truth. Through a small insect, he helped you through many missions, especially those that involved more strange phenomena around you. And sometimes, he even became a source of comfort, especially when the war began to take its toll on you. 

Throughout the war, you managed to fulfill many missions without dying. You tried to avoid it as you didn’t want to test if you could return from the dead the second time. Even if you did, you did not want to have new memories of it. 

You managed to make a small name for yourself, becoming known as the reliable Autobot soldier and comrade. Despite the strange occurrences around you and the mystery of your return from the dead, Optimus and the other Autobots trusted you. It felt great, and for a while, the war seemed to go in your side’s favor. You felt hopeful that you would be able to put an end to this conflict soon and see Cybertron return to the peaceful days. 

Unfortunately, those hopes were turned upside down when the Decepticons suddenly got the upper hand, but you finally gained an answer to the mystery of your death when you, along with your supervisor and other captured Autobots, were executed. 

You watched helplessly as your supervisor was killed right before your eyes, and then it was your turn. Right in front of your leader’s eyes, you were shot in the chest. You felt the searing pain as the blast melted through your armor and extinguished your spark — everything then fell into darkness. 

The shot went right into your spark, so there shouldn’t have been any coming back for you. 

But… you later woke up and found yourself in the trash suite, where you and your dead Autobot comrades were discarded.

You were filled with shock because this time, you knew you should be dead, but you were alive. There was something different as well, around you; there were scorch marks, and your entire body seemed to have gone through a change. Your armor was tougher with no holes in your spark chamber, you had become taller, there was an odd fire-red glow in your optics, and your spark…

…Your spark felt like it burned brighter than ever. 

You struggled to comprehend your situation, but with Optimus and other Autobots still captive, you pulled yourself together and took action. Escaping the trash suite proved no difficulties, but sneaking around the facility with Decepticons everywhere was challenging. However, you managed to find your way to Optimus and other captives and free them when the opportunity arose. 

They were startled by your appearance, especially since they were there when you were executed, but you managed to free them and escape the Decepticons. 

They had many questions for which you did not have an answer. Optimus was glad to see you alive, despite being equally shocked. He also felt something shift in the Matrix of Leadership when he stood near you. He couldn’t tell what it was, but it was clear that there was something special about you. 

Since that day, you gained the name The Soldier Who Came Back From The Dead. You did not know what to think of it. You had hoped your bodiless friend would come and give you an answer, since he seemed to know something about you that you didn’t.

Despite the incident, you continued fighting. However, the war did not take a turn for the better, especially when all the Energon reserves were completely depleted. Things took an even worse turn when Megatron returned. 

In your last mission, your task was to prevent the Decepticon abominations from escaping. Things turned dire, so you stayed behind to ensure the abominations would not escape. The whole building collapsed, and you were buried under it. You should have died, but you came back again and spent a lot of time digging your way back to the surface.  

After witnessing the outcome of the last battle, you wandered your lifeless homeworld, trying to salvage whatever Energon was left and see if you could find anyone who stayed behind. 

One day, you found your way to the tower that activated the space bridge and found a life signal. Deciding to investigate, you stumbled upon the infamous Grimlock.

He was barely online since he was near the blast, but you managed to stabilize him with whatever spare parts and medical knowledge you had, saving his life. You then helped him through the insecticon-infested land and eventually found his team. Luckily, they weren’t too far, as they had been looking for him since the blast. 

With their help and a makeshift base, you managed to fix all of Grimlock's injuries. 

After you told them what happened to you, they accepted you into their group. Grimlock was slightly grumpy about it. He was not keen on strangers, but since you technically saved his life, he allowed it, though he made it clear that they would leave you behind if you dragged them down. 

You had heard from Optimus about him, so his attitude did not fully faze you, but you did try your best to be helpful to the team.

Luckily, it wasn’t difficult. Aside from Grimlock, they were actually easy to get along with despite their unusual quirks. Apparently, Shockwave had experimented on them, resulting in their new beast-like modes. You found their alternative modes fascinating, as they were creatures you had never seen before. They shared that they found records about a different world that had these creatures, which their alternative modes were modeled after. It was also the world to which Shockwave opened the space bridge, answering the question of where the space bridge took the Autobots and Decepticons.

They had actually heard little about you and your return from the dead, which allowed for some conversation. Unfortunately, you still did not have an answer for how you were able to come back. 

Surviving in your now-dead home world was challenging. There were dangers everywhere, and there wasn’t much Energon, thanks to Megatron poisoning Cybertron’s core with Dark Energon. 

You could still remember that day like yesterday, how your world died beneath your feet. It made you feel great sadness. As Dark Energon flourished in dead places, you came across it many times during your travels. 

Strangely, the Dark Energon didn’t seem to have any effect on you. On the contrary, when you stood near it, it seemed to replenish your energy. It was odd—you’d heard of its corrupting qualities, yet for you, it appeared to be nourishing. Maybe just another strange phenomenon to add to the growing list of weird things you could do. Just… what are you? Why are you capable of these things?

You and the Dinobots eventually found a place to establish a safe haven—a place where you could rest and plan your next moves. With nearly everything on the surface either destroyed or unsafe, you chose to build your base underground.

Things were stable for a while. 

One day, you suddenly saw the familiar bug and heard your friend's voice again. You had wondered where he had been since he had been quiet for a long time. 

When you asked, he apologized and replied that he had been caught up in things. 

He then revealed to you that there was a location that had Energon and something that belonged to you. You were confused and asked what he meant. He explained it was something that was taken from you a long time ago. If you managed to get it back, it would help you and your dinobot friends in the long run.

You were uncertain about it, but since there was a possibility of finding energon, you decided to tell the Dinobots. They were hesitant to trust a bug, and you didn’t blame them—you hadn’t exactly told your Autobot comrades about your friend either, unsure how to explain it without sounding crazy. However, with energon supplies running low, they chose to trust your judgment and agreed to investigate the location with you.

With your friend's guidance, you came to what seemed to be an old Decepticon research facility. There were insecticons, but not the kind that obeyed Shockwave. Strangely, these insecticons left you be and just observed you and the dinobots from a distance. Even Grimlock thought it was weird. 

Without further issues, you entered the facility. You searched for the Energon and the strange item your friend said belonged to you. 

However, you were not alone in the facility. 

Grimlock had shared that Shockwave had been at the tower when it blew up, so the infamous Decepticon scientist should be offline. Grimlock himself nearly went offline, and it was by luck that you found and repaired him in time. 

Well, turns out Megatron’s valued scientist was still online. 

When you least expected it, the facility came online, and Shockwave’s voice echoed through the rooms. He then activated the facility’s system, forcing you and your companions to disperse and avoid getting caught by traps set by the con. 

You had heard a thing or two about Shockwave and his experiments, but you never imagined yourself ending up as one of his targets. 

Swoop figured that you needed to shut down the system from the main control center. So, that’s what you all aimed for. 

It was a difficult struggle. You ended up separating to increase your chances of getting to the main center, but you eventually got there first. 

You stood in front of the closed doors. Fear and anxiety flared within you as there was a high possibility that Shockwave was in there. The reasonable action would be to wait for your companions to catch up with you, but they were dispersed around the facility and possibly trapped. If you don't act, they might get caught in something they will not walk out of alive. 

“I’m at the main center. I’m going to shut down the system,” you said through the comm. 

“Are you sure? Shockwave might be in there?” Swoop questioned. 

“I proceed with caution. The quicker I get the system down, the quicker you can get here,” You replied. 

“Alright. Be careful,” Swoop answered. 

You took a deep breath. You hacked through the doors by pulling out the right wires from the console, a trick you learned from Wheeljack, and entered the main center. 

The room had consoles and terminals around. And at the end of the room, you saw what seemed to be an observation deck that showed you an arena. You figured that this facility was used to engineer and test out weapons.

You then noticed what seemed to be a sword hovering inside a stand. Its metal was black, and the blade was shattered into pieces. It had a red gem embedded on its handle, which glowed with a soft red light.

Curious and feeling a strange pull toward the broken sword, you walked closer. The light from its gem began to glow brighter when you came near it, and then you felt your spark quietly pulsing. It left you feeling strange. 

Was this the item your friend told you to look for? 

You then remembered your current task. 

You looked around the room and found the main console. Rushing to it, you examined the buttons and monitors. Through several monitor screens, you spotted Grimlock and the others trapped in various rooms. By pressing the buttons, you shut down the facility’s system, releasing your companions from their traps. 

You then opened your comm. “Swoop, Grimlock. I shut down the system, but there’s no sign of Shockwave,” you said. 

“Good job. Wait for us there. We’ll catch up with you,” Swoop replied. 

You then released a relieved exhale, but your momentary relief was short-lived when you noticed Shockwave standing right next to you. You blocked when he tried to hit you with his cannon-like arm, but then he grabbed you, effortlessly picking you up and sending you flying across the room. 

You slammed hard against the flooring, groaning painfully as you received some painful bruises. But then you saw one of those giant servo claws hanging above you. You yelped when it grabbed you by your waist and then slammed you hard against the nearest wall. 

You groaned in pain as you hit your head. When you regained your bearings and saw Shockwave, you tried to use your blaster arm, but it was grabbed by another servo claw, pinning you against the wall. You tried to struggle and pull yourself free, but the servo claws had a strong grip on you, leaving you defenseless against Shockwave. 

“Proceeding on your own and letting down your guard so quickly was the most illogical action, but I guess I should thank you. For it allowed you to be separated from your companions and allowed me the chance to contain you. Now I can deal with your dinobot friends,” Shockwave said as he turned the facility’s system back online. 

“(Name). What’s going on?” Swoop asked through the comm as he and Grimlock were locked in a room. 

“It’s Shockwave! He’s here. Get out of there!” you answered, but your comlink was soon cut off. 

“Now that we have some privacy, we can talk,” Shockwave turned toward you. 

“If you think I’m going to be an easy test subject for you, Shockwave,  you are dead wrong,” you replied. 

“Megatron is no longer on Cybertron. You no longer have Insecticons to fight for you. Grimlock and the others will get through your traps and come for you,” you added. 

“We shall see about that. I have no use for my previous experiments. My goal here was to obtain you,” Shockwave stated. 

“Me?” you frowned. 

“For what?” you asked before glancing at the sword that still glowed with red light.  

“The sword?” 

“Good. You catch on quickly. I wish the same could be said about your dinobot companions,” Shockwave said as he turned toward the broken sword. 

“I... do not understand. What do I have to do with that sword? What’s so special about it anyway?” you questioned. 

“That is what I am here to find out, and to answer your other question…” Shockwave stood before the broken blade. 

“This is the sword Coreiseuse, the Wrathful Blade — a weapon that belonged to one of Unicron’s children, the Harbinger of War,” Shockwave began. “It is said to grant its wielder control over armies and ensure victory in any battle,” he continued.

“At first we thought Coreiseuse and the Harbingers of Unicron were nothing but a myth—until we discovered a vault where the blade had been hidden by the ancient Autobots who once tried to harness its power,” he said.

You looked at him, puzzled. The Harbingers of Unicron? 

“The ancient archives revealed that Coreiseuse caused everyone who tried to wield it to fall into utter madness, causing them to attack anyone in sight until they die. The ancient Autobots concluded Coreiseuse would only respond to its previous master or one it deems equally worthy,” Shockwave continued. 

“Lord Megatron attempted to harness Coreiseuse and finally bring an end to the war and the Autobots. However, Coreiseuse rejected him. He managed to withstand Coreiseuse’s maddening energy due to the dark energon in his veins, but despite his immunity and might, the blade broke itself as a last act of resistance,” he revealed. 

You did not know if you felt glad about the outcome. 

"Several attempts were made to repair Coreiseuse, but with no success, as the metal it was made from refused to be shaped and continued breaking through other alloys it could have been repaired with. I then attempted to utilize its energy that still lay dormant within, but even that soon depleted. It had become nothing but a broken trinket.” Shockwave then turned toward you. 

“But then you arrived,”  

“When my scanners detected you in the area, Coreiseuse awakened from its dormancy and pulsated like it was calling you toward it,” he said.

“The Autobot soldier who came back from the dead,” he added, which caused you to feel dread. 

He knew? 

“I don’t know what you are talking about,” you said.

“Do not try to act coy with me,” Shockwave stated. 

“You might have gone unnoticed by your Autobots and your precious leader, but you have certainly not gone unnoticed by me,” he said as he pushed a button, which brought out a monitor. The monitor turned on and showed you a familiar trash suite. 

“This was taken after your corpse was thrown out after your execution,” Shockwave said as you watched the footage.  

In the footage, you saw your own lifeless body suddenly starting to levitate. It then began glowing with a brilliant red light. There was a sound, and the footage flickered as the glow illuminated the entire room. The glow then vanished, and you saw yourself, waking up alive, the corpses around you burning. 

You did not know what to think. You never really knew how you came back to life, so this was the first time you’ve seen it happen. So, that’s how you came to life?

“When I saw the footage, I suspected you were a fireborn at first. However, your rebirth seems to have the opposite effect on the environment. I studied the energy traces your resurrection left, and the results have been fascinating,” Shockwave spoke.

“You are something else,” he said. “The question is… what?” 

“I… do not know,” you uttered, shaking your head. You did not honestly have any idea. 

“After that day, I had observed you. (Name), A faithful Autobot soldier who mysteriously came back to life. I hoped to ask Lord Megatron to have you obtained for research, but back then, we had more concerning matters to solve,” Shockwave continued. 

“And now, seeing Coreiseuse reacting to your presence. It is reasonable to believe that you share a connection. It could be that you are a descendant of the Harbinger of War, or a reincarnation,” Shockwave theorized. 

“Whatever it is, you might be the key to repairing Coreiseuse and revealing a way to harness its power,” he added. 

You glared at him. “If you think I willingly work for someone like you, you have more than a few screws loose in your processor,” you said. 

“Oh, I do not need your cooperation, but it might make your life easier if you do,” Shockwave replied.  

“Otherwise, I would just open you up and see what makes you tick, but something tells me you are more valuable alive, and that you are incapable of staying offline,” he replied. 

“We can get started once I’ve dealt with your companions,” he said as he turned toward the console. 

You started panicking when you saw him control the traps. Struggling against the servo claws that held you against the wall, you watched helplessly as he controlled the facility. Through the monitors, you saw Grimlock and the others get stuck in traps where death was certain. You began to panic, struggling to free yourself from the servos. What now? If you don’t do something, Grimlock and the others might get destroyed. 

What now? 

What now?!

“Calm down. It will be alright,” 

You stopped when you heard your friend’s voice and saw the insect land on the servo that held you. 

Your friend chuckled. 

“Shockwave is a fool. A Harbinger’s weapon cannot be wielded by anyone except by the Harbinger it was forged for. Even if he found a way to repair Coreiseuse, he would not be able to wield its power, not even his precious Lord Megatron. It will only break again,” he said with amusement. 

“Please…” you uttered quietly. “Is there something you can do to help?” you asked. 

“I don’t want them to…” You looked toward the monitors, where you saw Grimlock and the others getting closer to certain death. 

“Don’t panic,” your friend said softly. “Unfortunately, I have already done my part. There's nothing else I need to do. “ 

You looked down defeatedly. 

“... but you can,” he added. 

You looked up at the bug. 

“How?” you questioned. 

He chuckled. 

“You do remember the reason I guided you here? “ he asked. 

You then looked toward Coreiseuse. The light around it glowed as you looked at it, and you felt slightly baffled. Coreiseuse was… yours?

“That’s right,” your friend said. 

“Call out to Coreiseuse. “

“It will answer to you, for you are its true master,” he stated. 

Your spark began pulsing as you felt an invisible bond with the broken blade. 

“And once it is back in your hands, all the questions you ever had will finally be answered.” 

Feeling your spark burn within your chest, you looked at Shockwave. All the memories of the war, the losses, and the continuing madness crossed your mind. Throughout this war, you had tried to stay strong and keep yourself together, but now, Shockwave planned to kill the only friends you had left on this dead planet. 

You do not know what you will do if Grimlock and the others die in this place. The idea of it was enough to make you feel angry. 

“Good. You have fought for so long, trying to obtain peace. Now, it's time to release your rage,” your friend spoke. 

“Call out to Coreiseuse and unleash your anger,” he encouraged. 

You took a deep breath and looked toward Coreiseuse as it glowed, as if sensing the anger within you, almost as if it were urging you to command it. You extended your hand, reaching for the bond between you and the blade.

“Show this fool… who you are,”

Letting down the walls you had kept so long, you allowed your anger to come forth. Your spark pulsed, and Coreiseuse responded in kind. Suddenly, your entire frame began releasing burning red energy, and through your optics, you saw red. The claw servos began to melt from the intensity of the energy that sprouted from your veins and armor. 

Coreiseuse glowed, responding to your call. Its broken pieces began to place themselves back into their places. 

You breathed heavily as you felt yourself burn. The anger, despair, everything you had felt throughout the war poured out like a flaming river.

When all Coreiseuse’s broken pieces placed themselves back together, the red gem on the handle glowed, causing the steel to burn and mend itself. Once complete, it flew out of the stand and into your hand, catching Shockwave off guard when he noticed what was happening. 

You then yelled in rage as you swiped your blade, releasing a powerful wave of energy. Everything in the main center exploded, shutting down the systems, and Shockwave was flown out through the observation deck as the glass broke. 

He hit the wall of the arena and fell to the ground. He groaned as he kneeled up. Several of his systems were damaged, and his frame sustained heavy scorch wounds. He then looked back toward the observation deck. 

With Coreiseuse in hand, you appeared on the observation deck. Red energy radiated around your frame, and your optics burned crimson. Two horns sprouted from your helm, and the energy formed behind you, casting the shape of two wings on your back.

As the arena lights were destroyed by the blast, the space was illuminated solely by the red energy surrounding you.

“Illogical,” Shockwave uttered in astonishment. 

“You cannot be a cybertronian. What are you?” he questioned. 

“From the moment I was born... a voice echoed,” you uttered, your voice deep and resonating with another beneath it.

“With your burning red spark, you shall judge over conflicts and unleash the flames of chaos. And with this blade, you shall wield your wrath and ensure your judgment leads to either victory or ruin,” you said.

“Go forth and bring war, my child of flame,” you added, your gaze fixed on Shockwave.

You roared as you swiped your blade, unleashing a powerful wave of energy at Shockwave. He managed to take cover and narrowly avoided the strike. The burning slash hit the arena ceiling, triggering a collapse.

Shockwave looked toward the open ceiling before turning toward you. “This will not be over,” he said as he transformed and escaped through the open ceiling. 

After he was gone, the energy radiating from your spark dissipated. You collapsed to one knee, using Coreiseuse for support as exhaustion hit you hard. Your breaths came deep and heavy, every movement weighed down by fatigue. Still, you couldn’t help but marvel at the destruction you had unleashed with Coreiseuse.

And that was not all. 

The moment Coreiseuse flew into your hands, your mind was flooded with knowledge and memories that hadn’t been there before. It was as if missing pieces suddenly clicked into place. They didn’t feel like memories exactly, but more like truths—feelings of who you truly are, where you came from, and what you are.

And then there was your friend—the one who called himself someone close to you.

He said his name would reveal itself to you in time, because deep down, you had always known who he was.

And who you truly are.

You suddenly heard the door being ripped open. Grimlock and Swoop ran through, having been freed from their traps. 

“(Name)! Are you alright?!” Swoop ran up to you before seeing the destruction you made. 

“Woah! What happened over here?” he asked.

“Did you do that? We heard a loud explosion and all the systems went down,” he questioned. 

You sighed, not even sure how to explain it. 

“Where is Shockwave?” Grimlock looked around. 

“He escaped. After I took control of this sword, I… well… this happened,” you motioned toward the destruction. 

“Well… if it's that powerful. I guess it will help us out in the long run. We found a good amount of energon to bring back as well,” Swoop stated. 

“That’s not all… This blade… Shockwave said it belonged to the Harbinger of War,” You looked at the blade in your hand. 

“The Harbinger of War? You mean one of Unicron’s children?” Swoop questioned, slightly baffled. 

“And the voice that led us here... he said it rightfully belongs to me, and the reason I keep coming back to life. I…” you hesitated.

A tear slid down your cheek, the realization weighing heavily on your mind.

“I might not be a cybertronian at all,” you exclaimed. 

“I’m suddenly aware of everything, why I came back, who the voice is, yet I also feel like I know nothing,” you said. “I…don’t know what’s going on with me,” 

Grimlock and Swoop looked at each other, unsure how to react. 

“Hey… uh… how about we grab the energon and return to base? Let’s try to sort this out there. Can you stand ?” Swoop asked softly. 

You tried to stand, pushing yourself up, but your legs were weak and exhausted, nearly giving out beneath you. Swoop caught you just in time and supported your weight.

“Woah! Easy! Whatever you did, it took a toll on you, didn’t it?” he asked. 

 “Sorry… I know I promised not to drag you down, but… I can’t help it,” you said, glancing at Grimlock. 

Grimlock huffed. “(Name)... one of us, “ he uttered, and then suddenly picked you up. You nearly yelped out of surprise, wrapping your other arm around his shoulder as he effortlessly carried you on his one arm. “And dinobots… do not leave their own behind,” he said as he started walking out of the room, carrying you on his arm. 

Swoop followed. “Whoa! Kind of an improvement from the big guy, “ he grinned. 

“But Grim’s right. You are one of us now. And whatever is going on with you, don’t worry about it. We help you figure it out, just like how you helped us,” Swoop said.

“Right, Grim?” he glanced at the bigger bot.

Grimlock only grumbled as he kept walking.

You showed a soft smile. “Thank you… “You said. 

“Any time, buddy. Besides… you got someone like Shockwave run away with his tailpipe between his legs. I say you are more than welcome to stick with us,” Swoop grinned. 

You then let your friends carry you out of the facility after retrieving the energon. Though you still felt overwhelmed by everything, you felt safe. And whatever lay ahead in your future, you knew that with Grimlock and the others by your side, you would be fine.

[aesiractive]

Lattice Boltzmann simulation wherein a NACA 4 Airfoil is pitched to a nose-up orientation corresponding to a 30 degrees Angle of Attack. This allows vortex shedding characteristics observation inside the numerical wind tunnel.

[lemelemon]

A life of sacrifices

Anaxa x f!reader

Angst

(Since English is not my first language, It may contain grammar or wording error.)

You knew this day would come. The day Anaxa sacrificed his heart to something you don't know but you had a plan beforehand....

You are Anaxa's friend and lover. You were his classmate, knew him even before he lost his eye. You knew how mad he was yet you didn't dare to leave him. Maybe because he got all your attention to make you feel worry, and something in him tried to tell you 'he is lonely'. These anxious feelings grew into some types of caring love so you confessed to him and became his lover. Being with him for a long time, You can read through him sometimes especially when he planned to do something risky. He always tried to avoid you and talked roundabout. You concerned that one day he would sacrifice his heart so you decided to give him yours when that day arrived.

You rummaged through all Anaxa's experiment documents in his room so you could find which alchemy method, he was using on himself, and you succeeded.

Then suddenly,...

"What are you doing?" said Anaxa standing by the opened door.

"Well... I just want to know about alchemy that's all." You said, trying to hide what you had just found.

"Suddenly? You could have just asked me what you want to know." said Anaxa, narrowing his eye in suspicion.

"I know. I know. But maybe I just want to know about you or surprise you. You know?" You tried to calm down as possible.

"Hmm. I see." said Anaxa, his hand touching his chin deep in thought. Then he left the room and closed the door.

You knew he didn't actually believe you but he just didn't want to push you further and made you feel uncomfortable.

You followed some of his alchemy method and some adjusted in your own way. You finally made artificial heart by your own heart. While you took your heart out you had already prepared artificial heart from donated ones just pushed it inside and it would be just fine working on it's own keeping someone alive for awhile. Even if in the future Anaxa wouldn't lose his heart you were still willing to give him yours. You don't live long like him, anyways. Then you prepared 2 types of letters.

-The first one was in case he lose his heart and willing to die.

-The second one was in case you die of old age.

---------------------------------------------------

The day you have worried and planned for a long time finally arrived sooner than you thought.

The day he comes back from Dawncloud to tell you in Okhema before returning coreflame....

At your room in Okhema

"Y/N... This might be our last time meeting each other. I will return Cerces' coreflame that has been keeping me alive to the vortex." This maybe your first time to hear his voice this sad.

"I... I understand. I always respect your decisions, Anaxa. Do as you want and don't regret it." You can barely hold yourself together. You are about to sob but you can't make this into a sadness farewell.

'So you really sacrifice your heart without telling me huh?" This thought in your mind makes your heart ache.

"I am sorry..." He suddenly hugs you his head buried in the crook of your neck.

"It's fine." You pat his head and stay like this for awhile.

When he finally decides to leave...

"Can I... talk to Cerces alone before you go?" Even you have already prepared everything, you are still afraid of asking the titan.

"Oh? Seems like your lover has an interest in me." She appears and teases.

"Thanks for lightening my mood, Cerces." You said.

"Go ahead I will wait outside." He narrows his eyes, staring at Cerces.

"Cerces... Please give these two things before Anaxa returns your coreflame..." You hold your box of your heart and the other one is the first letter you wrote.

"This is..." Cerces opens the box and is surprised.

"As you thought, It is made by my heart. I already planned this for a long time knowing what he might do one day. This heart inside of me will soon stop working but I think.... I shall stop finding one. I live solely for this day. I finally achieve my goal and now I can rest." The painful feelings are seeping in your voice.

"You two really are soulmates. No one can compete with your madness... May you rest in peace Y/N. I will fulfill your last wish." This time Cerces voice doesn't fill with teasing tone anymore.

"Thank you." You smile for Cerces one last time before lying on your bed.

---------------------------------------------------

"What do you talk to her?" Anaxa asks Cerces.

"Don't rush. Soon you will know" said Cerces.

Anaxa can sense something off but soon he will know for sure. So he decides to wait.

---------------------------------------------------

Before Anaxa returns the coreflame...

"Before you take out my coreflame, I would say It is not your time to die yet, Anaxa." Everyone is confused by Cerces' words. She then takes out a box and a letter you gave.

-

The letter 1

To my dear Anaxagoras,

By the time, you read this I probably have been dead by now. And let me guess you might be shocked, right? Anyways, Let's get to the main point.

The artificial heart in the box is actually my heart. You can just push it inside of your body to use it. I design that for your body by some of your knowledge. I made it because I know you have high possibility to lose your heart. And... Guessing from you recieveing and reading this letter my assumption is 100%, right. I know you are willing to die at the end of your plan but something tells me it is not your time to die, yet. It shouldn't be you come to the death itself but the death should come to you, instead. I am sorry if my plan interrupt your dying plan. I am sorry if my plan is selfish leaving you alone in this lonely world. I am sorry for everything, Anaxagoras. But please live, my dear. Until the day death finally comes to you. The world needs you.

From your lover, Y/N.

-

Anaxa finally finishes reading your letter out loud.

"This is her last wish she begged me." said Cerces. The others around him just silently listen to the conversation but their expressions tell everything, nothing but painful.

"I... will fulfill her last wish and live a little longer." said Anaxa voice low and shallow as he clenches the paper.

"Very well. I thought if you don't accept I probably make this a last trial." said Cerces trying to tease still her voice betrays her.

Anaxa stays silent.

---------------------------------------------------

He comes back to your room and your lifeless body. He wishes you were just asleep peacefully as you seem.

"You... are indeed interrupt my plan. No one could have succeeded but you." Anaxa sits beside your body and strokes your hair.

"You said the world needs me... But my world needs you, Y/N." He hugs you while feeling like dead inside.