#you never know... this person might be the next guy to invent some really cool tech for improving!!!

[alkemylabz]

been thinking about deviantart lately and i cant help but remember during the later years of the site's popularity where people would go out of their way to find what was (in retrospect, very clearly) art made by literal children and shit on it and cyberbully the kid about it. what the fuck was that. even shit that was like, well made was subject to overly critical bullshit about being unrealistic or a mary sue or whatever. its frankly bizarre to me as an adult that anyone ever tolerated this culture or even like, participated in it and -wasn't- a child themselves. or even saw it and didnt feel the need to say "hey what youre doing is really fucking stupid and pathetic"

[slasherbastard]

How would the slashers act if there s/o had a musical talent? Like amazing singing or plays an instrument? Just curious. Love your blog

thank you so much! You have no idea how excited I’ve been to post this, also I didn’t know what slashers to do so I threw together some random ones who I haven’t written for much (and Brahms, you can’t forget Brahms)

(gif credit: macmillanestate)

Poly!Billy and Stu

You're in a band as the electric guitarist/lead vocalist, probably a pop punk band

Billy and Stu always come to your shows

Even if they have murder plans, they will 100% show up to support their favourite person and their band afterwards (but mostly you)

Supportive boyfriends™

Back when you were practicing with your band in your parent's garage, Billy and Stu were the walking definition of happy heckling

It was either you kick them out of the garage or practice at someone else's place

Long story short, the drummer's house is pretty cool

They get to hear your band's songs early, no exceptions

They will want to help you with song writing

Stu: "Okay okay what about you just start screaming at this part?"

Billy: "Ooh wait, you should sing this part then go into the chorus"

Stu: "Will I be credited on the album as a co-songwriter?"

"Yeah, definitely Stu."

When your band goes on tour they will miss you like crazy, Stu will cry and beg you not to go

One of them - if not both - have probably tried hiding in your suitcases

If you’re performing at a show that isn’t too far, there’s a chance that Billy and Stu will show up and surprise you

Your band either hates or loves them

You may or may not have had to replace one of the ruder members after their mysterious disappearance, your boyfriends definitely didn’t have anything to do with it

Okay he was getting on your nerves and Billy caught him flirting with you- oh, you guys weren’t flirting? You were just showing him your new guitar? Oof

They’ve definitely been kicked out of multiple venues for being happy hecklers

"That's my Y/N! Wooh!"

"We love you, babe!"

(gif credit: boodalinski-gifs)

Brahms Heelshire

Before taking the job as a babysitter, you were a pianist

When Mrs. Heelshire first showed you the “classroom” you were so happy to see that they owned a piano

You wanted to ask if you could play it but you did arrive later than you’d expected so you’s expected

So you waited until your first day with Brahms

Brahms didn’t expect his nanny to know how to play the piano so when you sat down and started playing one of your favourite pieces, he was hooked

The human Brahms started leaving you notes and sheets of music that he wanted you to learn, bonus points if you already knew them

It confused you, but you weren’t complaining. You love playing piano and it was one way to stop you from dying of boredom

When you’re doing chores you gently sing along to whatever song is playing on your phone

You found out about the real Brahms in the middle of the night when you heard someone playing a lullaby on the piano 

You followed the music and saw him sitting there, lost in the music

When Brahms saw you he expected you to run, but instead you sat next to him and watched him play

But knowing Brahms, he’d probably stop and make you play a piece for him

This happens everytime you catch him playing

So you’ve started pretending not to hear it, when you’re actually standing just outside the room

Brahms caught you once, you sing a lot louder than you think you do

(gif credit: vork---m)

Bubba Sawyer

Texas in the mid 1970s? You’re probably an acoustic guitarist who knows a few country songs

But your musical expertise isn’t shortened to just country songs, you also know how to play some blues and a few older songs from the 30s-50s (think Diamond City Radio from Fallout 4?)

When Bubba found out you could play the guitar he begged you to play him something

You probably played him Johnny Cash, maybe Betty Hutton

Sometimes you put on concerts for him, his cousins, and sometimes his grandpa

Hell, sometimes Drayton will even listen - he won’t admit that he likes hearing you play but you’ve caught him singing and dancing along to you playing the guitar more times than either of you would like to admit

When Bubba isn’t busy dealing with victims he’ll definitely sit with you and watch you practice

If a song comes on the radio that he knows that you can play, he’ll ask you to play it on your guitar

When you sing he also tries to sing - well, babbles but it’s still adorable

Bubba would encourage you to perform in public at a nearby bar - although he can’t come and see you for obvious reasons

Or he’ll beg you to record yourself playing and send it to a radio station

If you did and they decided to play it, Bubba would be more excited than you

He’d babble so much, roughly translating to something along the lines of-

"I'm so proud of you! My baby Y/N is famous!"

Would Bubba cry? Yes

Bubba’s always gonna be your biggest fan, no matter if you get famous or only play for him and his family in the living room

If he could, he’d brag about you to everyone

Sometimes when he’s dealing with victims he’ll babble to them as if he’s trying to tell them that his Y/N is one of the most talented humans he’d ever me

"They're amazing - stop screaming i'm trying to tell you about the love of my life - sigh, okay fine *chainsaw noises*

(gif credit: theghostbeaters)

Amanda Young

Amanda LOVES hearing you sing

She idolises you, although she’s a tiny bit jealous about your voice

It makes her wonder how she was so lucky to score someone like you

If you write a song about her, she will be obsessed

She’ll hum it while she’s setting up the next games and while preparing the next victims

When she first introduces you to John, he’ll tell you that Amanda is beyond obsessed with you

You won’t see it, but she’ll be making faces and hand gestures at John trying to shut him up and stop embarrassing her

"This one does not shut up about you"

"Did you write her a song? She sings it constantly!"

"I swear I should invent a trap to shut her up"

It’s like a father-daughter relationship between those two, it’s amusing

Sometimes you try to get Amanda to sing with you as well

Amanda’s more of a listener than a singer - unless she’s singing one of your songs

But she tries to sing with you as it makes you happy

She mostly enjoys your voice, though, especially when she’s not feeling the best mentally, it calms her

(gif credit: stabhappyslashers)

Vincent Sinclair

Vincent didn’t know you could sing until he caught you singing along to one his brother’s CDs, so you know it’s gonna be either heavy, edgy, or both

Spoiler alert: it was a Deftones album

You were upstairs doing who knows what when he heard loud music, and he doesn’t like being disturbed especially when he’s working

He came upstairs to tell you to turn your music down but was stunned when he heard you singing those harsh vocals almost entirely at the same level as the vocalist

When you realised Vincent was watching you you nearly passed out from shock

He’s really quiet

You’d quickly pause your music and apologise

"Oh- Uh sorry Vincent. I didn't see you there"

"Were you working? Shit, you were working. I am so sorry"

Although you were embarrassed, Vincent thought it was cute

He’d sign at you not to be embarrassed and he’d leave you to finish whatever you were previously doing

He listens to you sing more often, he’s a sucker for your voice

If you’re in the studio with him and you start softly humming he won’t stop you

Although it might distract him and cause him to take too much wax off of one of his works (sorry Vincent)

Bonus: (aka, sort of shitposts)

Poly!Billy and Stu - Billy and Stu were never huge fans of Alice Cooper but after you forced them to watch Monster Dog, they have not shut up about Identity Crisises

Brahms Heelshire - As much as Brahms loves you and your musical talent, he really wants you to stop playing “meme songs” on the piano. He can’t stand whatever a “wii shop theme” is

Bubba Sawyer - three words. Friends Without Faces

Amanda Young - Amanda’s guilty pleasure? Musicals - Just don’t mention Repo! The Genetic Opera, though

Vincent Sinclair - He’ll record you singing - with your permission, of course - for an exhibition in the House of Wax

[my-writings-and-musings]

Not sure if you still want to write for old prompts but if so; May I request Rodimus, Brainstorm, and a bot of your choice for the kidnapped s/o defending their bot and giving the kidnapper a tongue lashing? Your writing is so good it seriously brightens my day reading through it all! :D

I never tire of my prompts, lovely anon! Thanks a million and here's the good boys! I couldn't think of anyone I wanted to do for the third bot but I poured my heart and soul into these two, I hope you like them!

Rodimus

·Your panic had never really gone beyond some light anxiety about when you'd get to eat next, but you credited that to the rescue party you knew was coming. Rodimus had bested bad guys far more competent than this loser, so you had few worries about getting out. Truthfully your greatest concern was how unfathomably annoying your captor was proving to be. Between their grandiose personality and their constant taunting over the communication line, you feel as if you're going to go mad. Unfortunately, when the mocking starts to be aimed directly at Rodimus without end, you quickly build to your limit. The gloves come off when your captor crosses the final line and calls your partner "Hot Rod" in an unacceptable jab.

·"Oh for God's sake! It's Rodimus you dolt, not Hot Rod! I know the extra syllable is a little difficult for you, but try to keep up!" Your shout echoes so loudly in the tiny cave that a bit of dust falls from the ceiling. Your captor is quick to try and shut you up, but that doesn't stop you in the slightest, as yelling feels far better than taking any more of their trash. For pete's sake, they stole you for ransom and they're expecting good behavior? Entitlement falls way short of describing what a jerk this bot is, and you let them know it, channeling the insults you know your partner would unleash if they could.

·"You think you scare me? You think you scare anyone?! You're dumb enough to piss off the captain of the Lost Light buddy, you should be afraid! Rodimus sees guys like you as footnotes compared to what he usually deals with!" Quite accustomed to your beloved captain charging in to save the day, you let loose a long list of his accomplishments, proudly defending and boasting at the same time. Your captor can't even get a word in edgewise. With a devilish smirk, you start to go on about all the less public ways Rodimus rules as a partner. His impeccable charm, his smooth wit, and his capacity to perform as a Prime where it really counts... That last bit is kept from vulgarity only due to a none too distant explosion cutting you off.

·Before anything can move, the door quite literally melts before imploding inward as molten metal, revealing Rodimus covered in flame. He moves in a fiery blur, his fist more akin to a meteorite as it collides with your captor to knock them out in a single punch. At your cheering of his name, he comes to your side in a flash, fire dissipating completely after he frees you of your bonds. Moments later the remainder of the crew is pouring in with Magnus scolding Rodimus for rushing ahead. He ignored him completely as he takes you into his arms, optics shining as if he's beholding something more precious than the Matrix could ever be. Though his words are flirty, his tone is tender and brimming with affection as he takes you back to the ship. His lovestruck expression doesn't seem to go away even when he throws a massive party to celebrate your rescue.

·In an incredibly rare moment where his responsibilities pull him away from you, a bot close to him tells you something they think you should know. Rodimus was initially devastated by your kidnapping. Though the entire ship had rallied for your rescue, he'd barely held it together enough to take charge, and hearing the bot mock him had nearly sent him over the edge. Your outburst had, as if by a miracle, revitalized him. Hearing you stick up for him, including your grand list of what you adored about him, had so inspired him that controlling his fire had become easy. It was unlike anything anyone had ever seen. You believing in him had put into perspective what he was capable of, to the point it lit a fire in the most literal sense of the phrase.

Brainstorm

·Dating a bot brilliant enough to rend time had made you quite accustomed to shenanigans of all kinds. Thus, you were calm when kidnapped, both due to the aforementioned reason as well as your certainty of rescue. However, that calm had proved short lived when your captor proved to be an annoying jerk with a massive inferiority complex. Their ceaseless mockery through the communication channel was like torture the DJD would have found too cruel to condone. You'd been able to stay cool for some time, focusing on keeping the situation calm and looking for weak points your rescuers might exploit, but inevitably you'd been pushed to your limit. The final straw had been your captor having the audacity to mock your partner for being a hopeless inventor who only managed to make things no one needed, and that sent you over the edge.

·"Hopeless?! You call inventing time travel and creating the multiverse hopeless?! This coming from a loser in a cave with the most backwards security system on this side of the galaxy?!" Your outburst had come with a rattling of your chains to emphasize your point, and between your voice and the clanking metal you'd immediately had the full attention of the bad bot. Still enraged, you made a point of detailing every single categorical failure they'd displayed, having learned plenty about judging the quality of technology in Brainstorm's lab. There's more than enough material for you to throw at them with the nightmare of poor maintenance surrounding you. "When was the last time you bothered patching up these turrets anyway?! Hope you're not planning on using these for defense, Brainstorm will have them short circuiting before he's done hacking that door!"

·There's something resembling an attempt at a comeback, but you're a mile ahead before it's even halfway out. To say your beloved bot eclipses this loser's intellect would imply they'd actually register on the same level, and you have to laugh at the absurdity of someone so incompetent daring to come after one of the most brilliant bots in the galaxy, something you let them know in no uncertain terms. The litany of reality warping ways you might be rescued is as long as it is ridiculously plausible. You begin going off on the countless other ways Brainstorm might get around this captive situation, extolling his many talents in weapon design and paying special attention to how brilliantly he thinks outside the box. You're about to get into the details of other areas he's creative in when the lights go out and everything plunges in to darkness.

·Flashes of biolights, small explosions, and shouts of action are all you have to discern some incredible rush of activity. Before you can really figure out what's happening a beautiful pair of yellow optics light up the darkness, and in a split second your chains are broken and you're being lovingly cupped by a pair of careful hands. At the flip of a small device the lights flicker on to reveal a beaten but otherwise fine captor being cuffed, but you ignore that entirely when Brainstorm removes his mask to speak to you. Playfully fussing over your condition, he uncharacteristically kisses your little head in full view of everyone, something he's never done before. In fact, the next few days he's nothing but openly loving and outright showy in his affections, publicly presenting you with a series of fantastic gifts invented to profess his love.

·In a rare moment of solitude, you're unexpectedly taken aside by a bot who says they need to let you know something important. Brainstorm was almost dangerous. He'd already lost one love, and he'd been so intent on not losing another he'd been forced from his lab to prevent him from tearing reality asunder to get to you. He'd been nearly impossible to console or restrain until your voice came through the comm. Hearing you defend him so passionately had calmed and invigorated him all at once, grounding him in reality and giving him the clarity he needed to assist in rescuing you. The device he'd created to extinguish enemy defenses had been put together at a speed that impressed Perceptor. It was thanks to you that he remembered to go slow and take things one step at a time, because just as much as you were worth fighting for, you were worth living for.

[wesimpforxiao]

Say My Name and I’ll Be There:  5.1

Author’s Note:  How’s everyone liking the story so far?  Kinda getting into my head about how stiff the writing is.  Maybe it just feels stiff to me, idk.  Anyways, here’s an early chapter!

"So, why are your eyes different colors?"  Childe caught you alone while you gathered firewood a few yards away from the camp.  The sun had long set, leaving you to rely on a lantern and the dim light of the distant fire.  He was limping from your sparring session earlier.

You had beat him.

And man, did it feel good.

"We crossed paths with a merchant that was traveling from Fontaine.  He said they're 'contacts.'  Basically little objects a person can put across their pupils and change their color," you repeated the rehearsed words a little too perfectly for Childe to believe.

"Oh?  I've never heard of that invention before," he tested.

"I guess it's new?  Like the kamera devices they recently developed? Aether has one of those."  You watched as he kept his hands idle at his sides.

"Interesting.  And Aether was the one who told you to say this to me?"  He blocked your path to the fire by placing a hand against the tree that stood behind you.  What a terrible liar you make, ojou-chan.  His friendly smile never left his lips, but it never reached his eyes.  They were cold and demeaning as they examined yours.

"I-I," you stumbled over your words.  "Why are you acting so weird, Childe?" You tried to laugh him off and attempted to duck under his arm.  What to say, what to say! Oh, maybe this'll work?  "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you're acting like a schoolboy crushing on one of his friends."

It might have been a wrong move.

He pinned your shoulders to the tree and made sure no one had their eyes on the two of you.  "On the contrary, you began acting strangely the minute I found you today."  Something in his gaze faltered as he replayed your words in his head. Perhaps I am acting like a schoolboy. But I can't help it if I'm infatuated with my target.  His eyes fell to the shimmering necklace resting against your collarbone, and he gently touched it.  "This is new."

"Don't touch that," you slapped his hand away.

"I don't recall you wearing such a genuine cor lapis charm before.  Where'd you get this from?"

"It was my Granny's."

Childe scrunched his nose at the answer, a brief look of internal conflict passing over his face like a cloud.  'Was?' The woman passed? I made sure she wouldn't get hurt by my men.  So then how did she--  He wanted to ask until the realization struck him.  They went to Quince Village after my leaving.  She saw the Fatui there--

You were too enraged to notice him visually fight himself and approached the campsite with an armful of branches.  You made a point to sit next to Xiao and glared at the Harbinger as he returned.

He maintained eye contact with you, even after sitting across the fire from you and the yaksha.  Your pupils seemed to glow from his perspective.  The fire licked the air in between you until all he could make out was the anger in your eyes.  She knows.  He mentally kicked himself, but only partially because of the possible complications this could pose for Signora and her grand plan.  If you were this angry, there was a chance you had told the yaksha.  And if the yaksha saw the Fatui, or at least heard of what you thought happened, then there's a chance he told Mr. Zhongli.  While he could not break the contract with the Tsaritsa, he'd find a way around the stated rules.  He made a fool of Childe once; he could do it again.

Childe didn't care in the slightest about fighting the entire group--though he was a bit afraid of facing the yaksha despite his urge to fight every living thing on Teyvat.  The only thing that mattered to him was you.  And if you were angry enough to fight, vision or not, he'd have to take you by force.  You may hold a special place in his heart, but his feelings for you meant nothing compared to his loyalty for the Tsaritsa.

One chance, the harbinger strengthened his resolve. I'll give her one chance to prove herself.  If she fails, I won't hesitate to take that which will secure Snezhnaya's future.

...................................................................

Several days passed by without incident--

--Is what I'd like to say, but unfortunately, that didn't hold true for you.

Childe and his unrelenting pleas for battles continued to reach your ears day in and day out.  He was the one that was attached to your hip, not Xiao.  You had only realized today that Childe was around you more often than the yaksha ever since he greeted you with a jumpscare at Luhua Pool.  To make matters worse, Xiao neglected to make a move towards him.

She can handle herself, he thought after witnessing the stunts you pulled on Childe.  Xiao recognized that the movements you were using as his own; perhaps there was an upside to you unconsciously peeking in on his memories.  He put himself on standby when he came to the realization.  But make no mistake, he would and will protect you if things got out of hand with the harbinger.  He just figured he'd take a step back and quietly observe his weak points, just like the old days.  The days in which Childe did not pose a serious threat to the group; when all that was between you and the harbinger was harmless bickering.

It would seem like those old days were still fresh to an outsider, but as the days passed by, you were growing increasingly frustrated with Childe's behavior.  After all, how could he continue to play the part of an oblivious comrade, when it was clear as day that the tensions within the group were growing?  How could he even call you a comrade with a straight face? How was it that he felt no remorse for his actions toward Granny when he looked you in the eye?

How was it that he could be so carefree?

Maybe part of you envied him for it.  Your inner grumblings did you no favor in the present moment though; the team had stepped into the western side of Dragonspine.  Your four coats made almost no difference against the sheer cold, and your body shivered uncontrollably even though warmer weather was only a hundred yards behind you.

Everyone except Xiao and Aether wore warm clothes, and it looked like the poor outlander regretted his decision to forego the garments.  Xiao appeared to be unbothered and more energetic than usual.  Childe looked like he was right at home with the weather, his shirt still sloppily unbuttoned to reveal his toned body underneath.  Bennet walked alongside you and was replacing Zhongli for the time being.

Snowflakes lazily floated their way down to earth, but they did nothing to grab your attention when the wind continued to howl against the team's direction.  You caught Xiao letting snow collect in his hand with an almost childlike wonder, but he glared at you when he found you staring.

"I want to find some dragon teeth for a sword and since you haven't been here before I thought it'd be a good idea to show you around," Aether called out to you over his shoulder, his arms crossing over his bare stomach for an ounce of warmth.

"You're insane!"

Aether's laugh mixed with the clattering of his teeth.  "You only live once, right?"  You removed two of your coats and threw them over his head.  "T-t-thanks."

You rolled your eyes despite the fact that you were smiling at him, only for your gaze to lock with Xiao's look of disapproval.  'Mortals are fragile,' you interpreted his frown and giggled.  

"Here we go!" Bennet lit the firepit with his flaming sword and knelt down in front of it.  Everyone joined him;  Aether was especially close to the flames.

"It's kind of annoying to find fire every five minutes," you shivered violently.  "And you practically go up here for fun?"  

"It gets easier the more we do it," Paimon giggled with a nervous smile.  "Besides, we get to mine starsilver and find cool dragon stuff that we can sell--"

"Don't lump me in with you," Aether piped up without moving away from the fire.

The distant sound of a conversation was carried over by a bone-chilling breeze.  "Huh?  Should we go check it out?"  Paimon stared in the direction the vague voices were coming from.

"U-uh-huh," nodded Aether.

The group stumbled over a hill only to find the body cavity of Durin.  While it threw you off, the sight around the remains was what chilled you to the bone.  Of course there's Fatui here, you scoffed.

"I see a tooth over there too,"  Aether whined.

"What's everyone looking at me for?"  Childe let out a nervous chuckle and awkwardly scratched the back of his head.  "These aren't my guys."

"We know," Paimon cooed.

"That's why we want you to go talk to them and let us pass," Aether held the smuggest expression you've ever seen him pull off.

"Uh...I'm not under any jurisdiction to--"

"Do it," you ordered with cold eyes.  When he locked eyes with you, you stood on your tip-toes and spoke in his ear.  "Prove your loyalty to the group."

"My loyalty, ojou-chan," his eyes narrowed significantly, "lies with Her Majesty, the Tsaritsa."

"Uh-oh," Paimon poofed out of existence.

"Uh, guys?  Those Fatui agents are approaching us reeeaal fast," Bennett warned.  

The two of you broke eye contact to find that he was right.  One electro and two geo skirmishers were walking towards the group.  Poofing would be a more accurate description.  Childe gave you a final look before he hopped over a log to greet them.

"Greetings!"  He didn't smile, and the skirmishers stopped in their tracks.

"Master Childe?  We didn't realize you'd be joining us on the mountain."  The three of them knelt out of respect.

"It's a surprise visit, really.  I came to check on your progress--"  The group made their way around the Fatui and Aether yanked the large tooth out of the ground while Childe chattered away with his subordinates.

[tonystarktogo]

Could I pretty pretty please get some more on the time travel crack au? Maybe when it gets out that Steve, Bruce, andThor are technically from the future?

As much as I’d love to jump to that part, I think it’s funnier necessary to cover a few other tidbits first. For example:

Tony misses whatever discussion follows Thor’s -- hah, got it right in one, he hasn’t lost his touch completely yet -- arrival before the god carries his brother off towards a containment cell with the sort of cheer that causes Tony to carefully keep at least two people between himself and Thor, lest the asshole tries to hug him again.

Not that it can be that big a loss considering they all -- sans Loki -- end up back in the command center of the helicarrier, where Fury glares balefully at the most recent invader of his precious aircraft that clearly isn’t meant to stand in the way of gods.

A glare Thor aggressively doesn’t notice. Likely because he’s too busy partaking in the on-going discussion on what to do next.

And by ‘what to do next’ Tony doesn’t mean the expected we-were-invaded-by-a-mindcontrolled-alien-nutbag-and-there’s-probably-more-out-there-seems-like-the-kind-of-oh-shit-situation-we-should-plan-for. No. That would be reasonable and expected and Tony’s spent all of three hours in the company of the esteemed Captain America and already he can tell you that Rogers is none of that.

[Which, not cool, Capsicle. Dazzling and befuddling people with crazily brilliant ideas is his job.]

[continues under the cut]

So far, Tony’s been paying attention for ten minutes. In that time, Rogers and Thor have gotten into an argument over how to handle Loki -- which holy shit, that went from a calm, rational discussion to a battle to the death between two superhumans on a sugar high in zero point four seconds -- that Tony is so not gonna touch. [Nope. Let some other fool [i.e. Rogers] throw himself head-first into norse god family drama, Tony’s own feelings concerning his family are complicated enough.] That conversation devolved into a not-openly-fighting-while-totally-fighting stand-off between Rogers and Banner over a way too bitter comment from the latter [something about ‘you’d know all about choosing one brother over the other, wouldn’t you’ which what?], which in turn gets derailed by Banner needling Thor about the merits of beheading over stabbing.

Romanoff had the good sense to disappear -- probably to interrogate Loki while his apparently protective big brother is distracted, now that Tony thinks about it. 

Unfortunately that still leaves Tony stuck here, having to play the role of the mature adult because no one else fucking will. Tony hates being responsible. It’s like being back in high school and being left to do all the work on your own in group project.

[Tony failed that project. Got a straight up zero on purpose because spite is a wonderful motivator. Which, now that Tony thinks about it, doesn’t say anything promising about the current situation.]

Tony leans even further back in his seat, only balancing on the backlegs of the chair, to give Fury a very sharp, very judgemental look.

These are the people you’re betting Earth’s survival on, that look says.

Fury’s already pissed off expression darkens further, which brightens Tony mood substantially. That one of the suit’s sensors flashes green twice in quick succession less than a minute later really just makes for a delicious cherry on the top. Or more precisely a good excuse to ditch this trainwreck of a match-making attempt.

“Whoops,” Tony says, clearly audible but not too loud to draw real attention from the three [still arguing-while-pretending-not-to] stooges on the other end of the room. “Looks like I gotta take this call.”

He jiggles his fingers at Fury. The guy rolls his eyes -- probably jealous that he doesn’t have an excuse himself, that bitch face doesn’t fool Tony -- but no one tries to stop him.

“Alright, J, what do you have for me?”

*

Tony pretends not to notice the shuffling footsteps. Glances at the disturbingly normal clock on the wall that is so not up-to-date with the rest of the technology in the room, it must be an inside joke. Tony would love to meet the SHIELD agent behind it -- it can’t be easy, being the only person with a sense of humor in an entire agency.

30 minutes.

Well. That’s longer than Tony thought he’d get. JARVIS still hasn’t cracked the last layer on SHIELD’s really fucked up dirt -- and given what he’s already found, that says a lot -- but it’s only a matter of time now. Besides, Tony’s got a job to do.

“To- Stark.”

“Rogers.”

Tony doesn’t turn. Neither does he stop typing.

“What are you doing?”

Tony scoffs. He’s not in the mood to pander to inferior minds -- not when they’re so fucking frustrating, don’t make any sense and worst of all make him do all the work. 

“He’s tracking the Tesseract, using the scepter as a point of reference,” Banner says after taking one look at the screen over Tony’s shoulder.

Tony raises his eyebrows, impressed despite himself. Banner’s credentials clearly don’t do him justice -- and they were pretty damn good to begin with.

“Huh,” says Rogers.

Thanks for playing. Now buckle down and make yourself useful or fuck off, Tony wants to snipe but doesn’t get the chance to because the gods -- this god at least -- just aren’t on his side.

“Even without my brother’s help, a weapon of the tesseract’s might should not be underestimated,” Thor speaks up. “Should we not make haste and collect it?”

"Great idea.” Tony’s voice is dryer than the sand dune he crash-landed in back during his fun little trip to Afghanistan. “If only I’d thought of that instead of inventing fifteen new algorithms to try and get a read on SHIELD’s precious magic eight ball while you were busy defending your brother’s honor. Speaking of, I’m pretty sure Romanoff is a greater danger to his virtue than Captain Shockfreeze over there, so why are you still here?”

Okay, maybe poking the hornet nest that is godly family isn’t his smartest move [didn’t he just say he wasn’t gonna touch that?!] but damn if Tony isn’t curious. And also too annoyed to care about unimportant, subjective things like good manners and tact.

He sort of regrets his cavalier attitute a little when Thor sobers. At least there are no tears in sight. Tony is the last person on Earth who should be left unsupervised around crying people. It just never ends well.

“Ah.” Thor sighs heavily, stems his body against an unfortunate table that creaks dangerously. "I’m afraid I can’t afford to see my brother right now.”

It’s the way he says those words, the weight they carry more than anything that tells Tony he needs to drop this issue right now. Talk about one huge trigger button.

Must be inconvenient to have siblings. Tony totally can’t relate.

“Well, in that case, unless you have a magic trick with which you can pull the Tesseract’s position out of your sleeve, how about you sit as far away from these delicate instruments as possible and don’t touch anything while I work my magic, hm?”

Tony doesn’t let his gaze linger on the crushed edge of the table. Thor hasn’t even seemed to notice. He’s too busy lighting up at Tony’s snappish response. Which is surprising. Tony’s aware he’s a bit of an asshole right now. In his defence, he’s an asshole most of the time.

Rogers leaps across the room -- almost crashing into the previously mentioned delicate sensors as he does so -- to slap his palm over Thor’s mouth.

Tony stares. [How quickly can you develop a new habit again? Because this starts to feel like a new habit.]

“That sounds like a great plan!” Rogers beams at him, so wide and fake it must be physically painful for the epitome of all that is good and holy. At least Tony hopes it is. The supersoldier his father worshipped is still clinging to their resident god of thunder’s face.

It’s.

Tony resolutely turns his back on both of them because their madness doesn’t seem to come with a refund-ticket and if Tony doesn’t finish this program, no one will.

Not even Banner -- whom Tony had been kind of hoping for. Speaking of, the man’s been awfully quiet for a while now.

“You alright there, Brucie-Bear?” Tony turns around -- a little because it’s polite to face people when you talk with them and mostly to have an excuse not to watch the ongoing doomed wrestle-match between Blonde 1 and Blonde 2. His awesome nicknaming skill doesn’t get so much as a twitch.

To be fair, Banner is so busy staring straight ahead with the most epic rendition of the World’s Most Thoughtful Expression™ Tony has seen in a while that it doesn’t seem like the man heard him. At all.

Until he suddenly speaks up.

“I think we’ve forgotten something.” Behind Tony the impromptu wrestling comes to a sudden halt.

Probably something negligible like how to focus on a mission, the sarcastic voice in the back of Tony’s mind drawls. Though it should be noted that Tony’s consciousness only comes in sarcastic or not at all. Sorry, everyone, all the other flavors are out.

Banner’s frown deepens. “Something- Something important.”

Right on cue an explosion rocks the aircraft.

*

There’s a bit more tension in this part than the previous ones. On Tony’s side it’s because he’s smart enough to pick up on Something Is Seriously Wrong, both consciously and subconsciously and also because he feels the pressure what with everyone else apparently not taking this whole thing very seriously.

[Excluding Natasha who, believe me, takes Clint’s fate very serious indeed.]

On our time travellers’ side, they experience the frustration of being unable to talk openly, surrounded by people they don’t trust, trying to play along to the script of a movie they watched like 12 years ago and never revisited. Needless to say they’re failing horrenduously.

[floralprintsharks]

Prompt fill #4 for @dimension20alphabet:

Dares

“Hey Fig”, Fabian hears the Genasi girl—Romilda? Rowina? Ronalda?—say after their latest Bard class on Tuesday. He’s breathing heavily after finishing his latest dance routine and he’s not actively listening to their conversation, but Fig stopped beside him to ask if he wanted to try dancing to one of her new compositions.

 “I wanted to ask if you could—uh. Maybe give me the crystal number of your friend?”

 Fabian grins down at his battle sheet, trying to remember if Romilda—or whatever her name was—is pretty and whether or not he wants Fig to give her his number.

 “Which one?”, Fig asks, which is honestly ridiculous. He is easily the most attractive one—

 “Umm... Riz?”

 Fabian stops folding his battle sheet and blinks before straightening his back to turn his head. Rowina is twirling a very pretty, blue curl around her index finger. She’s very attractive and Fabian is not sure he heard correctly.

 “Oh, sorry. He’s not available”, Fig says with an apologetic smile and Fabian feels his stomach knot into something very unpleasant. Which makes sense, because first of all, The Ball always insists on him and Fabian being best friends. If Riz has a girlfriend, why wouldn’t Fabian know about it?

 Second, Fabian is offended because it’s completely preposterous that The Ball is supposed to be in a relationship while Fabian is not. That’s just absurd.

 Sure, The Ball is endearing and smart and funny and loyal. But he’s The Ball. Tiny, skinny, nerdy, socially awkward.

 “Oh... Oh, sorry, I didn’t know”, Ronalda says and seems very embarrassed before she turns around and rushes out of the classroom. Fig watches her leave and shakes her head before pulling a cigarette out of her backpack to put it behind her ear.

 “Since when is The Ball not available? And why the fuck would a girl like that want his number?”, Fabian asks Fig the second they step out of the classroom to head to the cafeteria.

 “Well, I just know that Riz just wouldn’t be interested in someone like that. And also, what the fuck Fabian, why are you being such a dick?”

 Fabian wants to know what Fig means by ‘someone like that’. He also wants to ask further questions but he’s sure that it might sound weird to get so defensive about something like this. It’s not like he’s actually interested in The Ball’s love life. Or who he’s potentially kissing. Because that would be weird.

 Plus, Fabian could get all the kisses that he wants. He just so happens to concentrate on his dancing right now. And if the whole thing with Aelwyn turned out to be a disaster, then that has nothing to do with him or what a great catch he is. That was simply because they weren’t actually as compatible as they originally thought.

 “I’m not being a dick, I’m just saying that it seems wild that someone would want The Ball’s number instead of mine!”

 Fig rolls her eyes at him.

 “She’s not the first one to ask, you know. Riz has gotten pretty popular after the whole Goldenrod thing at prom”, she says and looks at him with raised eyebrows. Fabian snorts disbelievingly.

 Sure, The Ball has changed a lot since they first met. And since, after their Spring Break, he stopped wearing his weird hat maybe Fabian would even go as far as to call him kind of handsome. If he thought about guys like that.

 Which he doesn’t.

 But the thought that all of a sudden people want to date The Ball is just ridiculous.

 “Oh yeah?”, Fabian asks and snorts a little louder than was maybe necessary. “And who else is interested in The Ball?”

 Fig narrows her eyes at Fabian and raises her hand before she starts listing names.

 “Theo from Barbarian class. Kat from clerics. Ragh said that Riz is cute just yesterday. And Gorgug keeps getting questions about Riz from the Bloodrush team.”

 She looks at him as if she’s expecting a very specific reaction from him. Fabian’s first thought is that he somehow feels like he should run every single guy on the team into the ground who asked Gorgug about Riz.

 Then he wonders why people never ask him about The Ball.

 Then he wonders if The Ball likes guys or girls. If Fabian remembers correctly Baron was a guy, but he was also a nightmare came to life and doesn’t count. Probably.

 Then Fabian gets annoyed again because he feels like he doesn’t know all these things.

 And then he thinks that maybe Ragh should stay in his lane.

 He tries to imagine Ragh and The Ball on a date together, getting their kisses in with each other and it’s ludicrous, completely insane, but his skin feels way too tight for his body all of a sudden and there’s a rush of heat in his abdomen that has nothing to do with dance practice.

 “You okay, dude?”, Fig wants to know as she carries her tray over to a table where Kristen, Adaine and Gorgug are already sitting.

 “What? Yeah. Sure. Whatever”, he snaps, sits down next to Gorgug and starts poking at the atrocity on his plate that is supposed to be lasagna but looks weirdly like something that might come alive and attack him at any moment.

 “What’s gotten his panties twisted?”, Kristen wants to know after one look at him.

 “He’s pissed because people want to date Riz”, Fig says and Fabian considers grabbing a handful lasagna and throwing it at Fig.

 “Why would you be pissed about that?”, Gorgug asks, confused. There is a beat of silence that makes Fabian raise his head just in time to realize that Adaine has cast Message to tell Gorgug something telepathically.

 Gorgug makes a face that shows way too much understanding for Fabian’s tastes because there is really nothing to understand about this whole situation. This is ridiculous. His friends are being ridiculous. And the idea of The Ball being popular is—

 “Hey guys”, a voice says and The Ball slides into the seat next to Fig.

 Did The Ball always have so many freckles? And hair that looks way too soft to be legal?

 Fabian stares at him.

 Riz stares back.

“What?”, he asks.

 “Nothing”, Fabian snaps and starts eating his lasagna. It tastes just as terrible as it looks. It’s hard to ignore the pointed looks that Gorgug, Fig, Adaine and Kristen exchange meaningful looks with each other.

 “Anyway”, Fig says, ignoring Fabian and turning to the others. “Theo is throwing a party this weekend, do you guys wanna go?”

 “Sure”, Kristen says.

 “Is it one of those parties where people drink way too much and then throw up all over the house?”, Adaine asks.

 Fig shrugs.

 “I don’t know. Theo is pretty chill and his parents aren’t home, but I guess it would be cool if we just. You know. Stayed in our group and chilled with some beer or whatever. And he said we don’t have to bring our own booze because I gave him one of our records for free.”

 “Sure. Yeah. We can like. Hang. Who knows, maybe I’ll even drink a whole beer this time”, The Ball says in the same voice he tends to use when he says the words ‘hooking up’.

 “No hard drugs though”, Gorgug says with a look at Fabian.

 “Hey! That wasn’t my idea! That dude just came up and kissed me straight on the mouth!”

 “Wait, you kissed a dude?”, Kristen wants to know.

 Fabian glares at her.

 “I didn’t kiss a dude. He kissed me, okay? It was during our boys’ night and I was very high afterwards.”

 “Must have been one hell of a kiss”, Kristen says with a smirk. Fabian is ready to throw his tray through the cafeteria but he doesn’t get the chance because at this point a dude he’s never seen before steps up to their table.

 “Hey Riz. You coming on Saturday? I invited Fig and you guys over to my party.”

 The Ball smiles awkwardly and scratches the back of his head.

 “Uh—yeah. I’ll be there, I guess.”

 “Sweet. See you then!”

 Fabian stares at the guy who is at least as tall as him, fucking jacked—probably because he’s in a damn barbarian class, and he has a damn eyebrow piercing. What a tool.

 Kristen wiggles her eyebrows at Riz and he has the nerve to blush darkgreen.

 “Stop it!”

 “Soo... Theo, huh?”, Kristen says.

 “Kristen”, Riz says and buries his face in his hands. Fabian wonders if Theo is the person who Fig was talking about when she said that The Ball is not available. And not interested in people like Romilda. He wouldn’t be, of course, if he’s into guys.

 Guys like Theo.

 The Ball is interested in guys. And Fabian didn’t know.

 *

 “Fabian, bro, you alright, dude? You seem a little on edge”, Ragh says on Friday while they’re out on the field throwing some balls—the irony doesn’t escape him.

 “Did you know that The Ball is into guys?”, Fabian asks before he manages to stop himself. Ragh throws the ball to him and Fabian catches it without issue before throwing it right back at Ragh, maybe a little harder than the ones before.

 “I mean, kinda? I don’t think Riz knows what he’s really into. Especially because he’s super freaked out about the whole sex thing, you know. But I guess he’s not not into guys. More into guys than girls. Why? That bother you?”

 Fabian isn’t sure how to explain to a gay guy that he’s offended about The Ball being into dudes without sounding like the worst homophobe. It’s not that he minds. He’s just pissed because he didn’t know. Because they’re supposed to be best friends—and okay, maybe The Ball was always very insistent on that and Fabian never actually confirmed it. But if Fabian is The Ball’s best friend, shouldn’t Fabian know about this?

 Doesn’t The Ball trust him?

 “I mean. No. Obviously not. I don’t give a shit”, Fabian says and watches as Ragh raises his eyebrows at him.

 “Dude, remember how we talked about feelings and letting them out and like, being truthful about our emotions and stuff?”

 Fabian does remember, but he refuses to acknowledge it.

 “Fig said that you think The Ball is cute”, Fabian says instead and Ragh shrugs, the ball still firm in his hands

 “I mean, yeah. He’s cute. He’s smart and super fucking badass. He has dimples when he smiles. Pretty adorable, if you ask me.”

 Fabian feels a rush of anger again and he doesn’t know where it’s coming from. Whoever invented emotions should be hunted down for sport and shot.

 “Well, I suppose, if you’re into stuff like that”, Fabian says. Ragh throws the ball at him, also a little harder than before.

 “Yeah, stuff like that. Like guys, dude”, he says.

 “Yeah. Like that. I wouldn’t know”, Fabian answers.

 Ragh opens his mouth to say something but he seems to decide against it and shakes his head.

 “Whatever, man. You’ll get there eventually”, Ragh says and Fabian has no idea what the fuck that is supposed to mean, but the next ball he throws flies wide.

 *

 Theo’s house is way smaller and less impressive than Fabian’s house—which is to be expected, but he still feels smug about it when the Bad Kids arrive at a red brick building with a garden full of sunflowers and a trampoline in the backyard that multiple people have already started using.

 Loud music, laughter and voices spill out of the open windows and onto the street as Fig pushes the small garden gate open and saunters up to the front door to ring the bell.

 “Damn, bro, you look sleek as fuck”, Ragh says to Fabian and hits him on the back with one his giants hands. Fabian manages not to stumble and grins. Ragh doesn’t have to know that Fabian took way longer than usual to get dressed because he is ready to get his kisses in tonight.

 He doesn’t care about Theo or about the fact that The Ball secretly likes guys. He can like whoever he wants and it’s of no concern to Fabian. For all he knows The Ball can kiss half Elmville and Fabian wouldn’t care one single bit about it.

 He keeps telling himself that as he follows the others into the house where people are already scattered in different rooms, many of them already drunk. There is a beerpong table set up in the living room where all other furniture has been pushed aside.

 “Hey guys”, Theo says as soon as he spots them and Fabian refuses to notice the way he grins down at The Ball  as if they were good friends. Which they are not. Since Riz already has a best friend and, in fact, an entire group of good friends, who are all here right now and of which Theo is definitely not a part.

 Now that Fabian stands in front of him he can see that Theo is in fact taller than him, half elven, half orc with light green skin and pointy ears, dark hair and wearing a black muscle shirt which Fabian finds endlessly offensive.

 “The guys were just talking about playing some old fashioned party games, do you guys wanna join?”, Theo asks and grabs some bottles of beer from a nearby table to hand them to Kristen, Riz and Gorgug. Fabian considers if it would be appropriate to deck Theo in the face because he didn’t offer Fabian a beer as well.

 “I’ve never really played any party games. What kind of games?”, Adaine wants to know. She’s holding Boggy with a look of mild concern on her face.

 “Oh, you know. Spin the bottle, truth or dare, that sort of stuff. Should be fun. Come on, I’ll introduce you!”, Theo proclaims and he throws an arm around Gorgug and waves all of them over to what seems to be a dining room that has been filled with a ton of pillows for people to sit on.

 Fabian doesn’t really know any of the people sitting here—Fig and Gorgug on the other hand know some of them from Barbarian classes. It turns out that Theo also participates in Druid classes, which Fabians finds weird.

 But he doesn’t have time to think too much about how much Theo sucks for various different reasons, because Ragh hollers excitedly, flings himself down on one of the pillows and pulls Fabian down with him.

 “Fuck yeah, dude. This rules! Here, have a beer!”

 Fabian has never played truth or dare before and he’s not particularly sure if he enjoys it. Adaine seems very on edge and picks truth every time, Fig on the other hand is delighted about giving people dares and picking dares herself. Kristen still has a hard time holding her liquor and insists on daring people to kiss each other. Then she starts crying because she misses Tracker.

 Riz is biting his nails as he watches people play and sips on the one beer he’s had since the beginning. Fabian doesn’t actually want to look at him for more than a few seconds, but The Ball is sitting directly next to Theo who is sprawled on one of his dumb pillows and seems to have the time of his life watching two of his buddies stick their tongues down each other’s throats.

 Someone dares Ragh to do a prank call on the vice principal and Ragh apologizes to Fig before he dials Gilear’s number to tell him that he won the lottery.

 “Fabian, bro! I feel like I should make you kiss someone”, Ragh shouts after he’s done and throws an arm around Fabian’s shoulder. Fabian laughs and considers all the girls sitting in the circle to figure out which one he’d like to kiss the most.

 “Make him kiss Riz”, Kristen calls and Fabian is confused for a second until what she said sinks in.

 “Kiss Riz! Kiss Riz! Kiss Riz!”

 Fabian’s eyes find The Ball’s face.

 His big, yellow eyes have grown impossibly wide and he stopped biting on his nails only to start chewing on his bottom lip in a way that looks dangerous with those sharp teeth.

 This is absurd. Fabian would never kiss The Ball.

 “What?”, he says with a half laugh. “No!”

 Fabian feels like this must be some kind of joke. He elbows Ragh in the ribs and says “Don’t be ridiculous.” and it takes him a few seconds to realize that the group of people around him has fallen silent.

 “Riz?”, Adaine says quietly.

 “I’ll be—uh. In the bathroom. Where the toilet is. To pee”, Riz stammers before fleeing out of the room as if the Nightmare King was chasing after him.

[moonlightreal]

This is the “author’s note” I found on the amazon pages for the pretty hardcover Night World books.  My memory is that it was just there, the book-blurb at the top by the cover picture, was this. 

Like a bonehead I just copied the text without grabbing a screencap or noting the date.  The amazon page now has the publication date is December 2016 so this bit of optimism was just before Ms. Smith vanished.  Of course we don’t know when it was written or whose idea it was.  Was Strange Fate really finished or was someone just feeling hopeful? 

NIGHT WORLD Dear Readers, It’s hard to tell you how much the re-release of the Night World books means to me. It has allowed me to come full circle, to complete a cycle that began with Secret Vampire. It has allowed me to finish Strange Fate, which grew into an epic that included roles for almost every Night World character. And Strange Fate allowed me to show the origins of the Night World, the apocalypse that threatens to destroy it, and even a possible future in which the evil side of the Night World prevails. I am often asked how I conceived the idea for the Night World series. It began when I wanted to write stand-alone novels that would combine horror and romance. But I wanted more: I wanted to do a series in which this Night World—a vast, secret world that exists within the everyday world—would slowly reveal itself to readers. That’s why the first book is called Secret Vampire: the inhabitants of the Night World, composed of vampires, shapeshifters, witches, and other supernatural creatures I wanted to invent, are hidden from humans. A vampire is necessarily a secret vampire … because of the laws. I also wanted to write about a new kind of forbidden love. That’s not easy—most good forbidden love topics were old by Shakespeare’s time. But with this series, I could create the possibility of forbidden love simply by saying that the laws of the Night World prohibit a Night Person from falling in love with a human. But I still needed one more ingredient. I needed the rise of the soulmate principle to actively force Night People to fall in love with humans, no matter how hard they fought against it. Voilà! Then it was just a matter of making up interesting characters and setting them loose in my head to see what they would do. I often begin like that: sitting in a quiet room and searching for a sparkle in my mind that could become my new heroine. Sometimes it’s easy and a whole character shimmers before me. Sometimes I only get the faintest firefly glimmer of a new girl, and I have to hold my breath and see if that glimmer will materialize into a three-dimensional person. Heroes and anti-heroes are easier. It’s just a matter of picking one that will be a true soulmate for my heroine. I have a whole collection of these characters in my mind, all trying to crash the party. And they’re usually bad boys. The settings and in-depth plot development are another layer of work. But often the characters just run off and do what they want, and I have trouble keeping up with their antics on my keyboard. One thing I always do is look carefully at my characters and plot from all angles to make sure I’m not plagiarizing a book or series that I may have read before. That’s just normal procedure for ethical authors: we make sure our stories aren’t too much like another story we might have read. Of course, there are many ideas that have been around since the Babylonian myths, and many characters that are archetypal. But, really, it’s almost impossible to take many things from the body of another author’s work—say, someone else’s character(s) or plot or story device—without actually intending to do so. I can’t imagine wanting to do that. I wish I could say every author felt the same. Poppy North is a character I examined very carefully. I wanted to make sure she wasn’t too much like Bonnie McCullough, another petite character of mine from The Vampire Diaries. I didn’t even want to plagiarize myself ! But Poppy convinced me that she was a tough little squirt who by high school had already planned out her future, which is very unlike Bonnie. Poppy was going to marry her mysterious friend James—she just hadn’t informed him yet. Also, unlike Bonnie, she had a fatal flaw in her small body. In Secret Vampire, I knew I was dealing with a serious issue: terminal cancer in a high school girl. So I did a lot of research before deciding on a type of cancer that would be truly inoperable and give Poppy only a month or two to live. I went to several hospitals to talk to nurses in oncology wards. I always brought toys for the hospitalized children, but the whole subject was so heartbreaking I was almost afraid to tackle it. Once I did, though, I found that Poppy was even stronger than I had imagined. In the book, she makes the only choice she can to go on living, and she never looks back. Poppy is one of my favorite girls, and she ushers in Ash Redfern, who quickly became one of my favorite bad boys. Ash has a murky past of womanizing and … well, more womanizing. Ash returns in Daughters of Darkness because he has been ordered by the leader of all vampires, Hunter Redfern, to bring his three runaway sisters back to their cloistered vampire island. But when Ash locates his sisters, he runs straight into the human stargazer Mary-Lynnette, and the sparks begin flying—literally. Mary-Lynnette is a character I made up when I was a kid, and I’m always surprised by how many people like her and Ash together. Mary-Lynnette spends most of the time expressing her feelings for Ash by kicking him in the shins, but their dialogues are some of my favorite passages in the whole series. Ash, in turn, escorts Quinn into the series. And Quinn (who does have a first name, though he rarely uses it) is one really scary guy. A vampire since 1639 A.D., Quinn is sharp, cold, humorless, and heartless. Unlike Ash, who is mainly guilty of an incredibly long series of one-night stands, Quinn enters the series as a human slave trader. That is, he provides vampires with young girls, and he doesn’t ask questions about what happens to the girls afterward. This led to a problem: How on earth was I going to redeem this villain enough to make him someone’s soulmate in The Chosen? I really sweated over that. My first task was to make Quinn more sympathetic. The best way to do it seemed to be by telling a bit of Quinn’s own tragic story: how he falls in love with sweet Dove Redfern, and how her vampire father decides to make Quinn his heir. Dove’s father is Hunter Redfern, one of the most important vampire leaders in Night World history. This is the same Hunter Redfern who, nearly half a millennium later, sends Ash to drag his sisters back home. The same Hunter Redfern who sends his daughter, Lily, after Jez in Huntress. The same Hunter Redfern who tries to turn Delos into a merciless killer in Black Dawn. But, as a boy, Quinn doesn’t know anything about the Night World, and he is deeply in love with gentle Dove. When Hunter makes him a vampire by force and then when Quinn can’t save Dove from being killed, Quinn’s heart freezes over. For four hundred years it accumulates ice—until he meets Rashel. That’s another favorite scene of mine: when Rashel, a dedicated vampire hunter since (guess who?) Hunter Redfern killed her mother, encounters Quinn. A group of Rashel’s fellow vampire slayers have captured Quinn and plan to torture him, and Rashel is left alone to guard him. Quinn, feeling old and tired despite his youthful appearance and great power, gives himself up for dead—and is a little glad to do so. Rashel, however, can’t stomach the idea of torture. When Rashel talks to this most-hated vampire and hears his story, she deliberately sets him free. And that astonishes him. But it’s the soulmate principle working its magic. I loved making two such strong-willed enemies succumb to the silver cord that connects them. I especially loved hearing Quinn warning Rashel not to let him go—and then protecting her when her comrades arrive back in time to see that she’s let him loose. I really loved writing about Quinn and Rashel’s soulmate sequences. As Rashel enters Quinn’s mind, she sees “thorny scary parts” but also “rainbow places that were aching to grow” and “other parts that seemed to quiver with light, desperate to be awakened.” She begins to think that people ask so little of themselves. If the mind of a slave trader can look like this, an ordinary person must have the power to become a saint. It is with this revelation (and much penance on Quinn’s part) that Quinn is redeemed. That’s the thread that binds all the novels together: redemption. The possibility of a second chance. Everyone has choices to make, but even the most evil of vampires can choose to atone and be redeemed. It may not necessarily stave off punishment in this world or the next, but redemption is possible. I’ve been asked who my favorite characters are, and the answer always changes because it depends on the book I’m writing. Right now my favorites are three characters from Strange Fate. As for my favorite couples in the published books? Morgead and Jez—I suppose. Who would find themselves at greater odds than a vampire gang leader and his onetime superior, a vampire who finds out she is half human? I learned some cool martial arts moves as a bonus for writing about them. Then there is Keller, one of my all-time favorite heroines, and Iliana, the beautiful Witch Child, and Galen, ruler of the shapeshifters: the love triangle in Witchlight. Keller starts out seeming brusque and businesslike, but the love of Galen and of the unselfish Iliana help to heal her inner wounds. And I can’t forget Thierry and Hannah, and Circle Daybreak. I created Circle Daybreak because the Night World witches had only two clans: Circle Twilight and Circle Midnight. Those, like Thea in Spellbinder, who belong to Circle Twilight are not-so-wicked witches (that is, they don’t want to exterminate all humans like the darkest witches, those who belong to Circle Midnight), but they are still wicked enough. So what was to be done with all these new soulmates, when Night World law said that they must be put to death? Someone had to make a place for them where they would be safe, and I decided it was Thierry, one of the oldest vampires, and Hannah, his Old Soul soulmate, who has lived hundreds of lifetimes without ever reaching the age of seventeen. They are the ones who revive Circle Daybreak, where humans and Night People can forget about past tragedies and concentrate on a brighter future together. Although Thierry is an old vampire, he isn’t the oldest vampire. There is one older, the one who Changed him. She provides another thread that binds the series: the pitiless Maya. Maya is the first vampire, the witch who finds the secret of eternal life—and chooses to use it for evil. But there will be plenty more about her, including a look at the young Maya, her sister Hellewise, and their mother, Hecate Witch-Queen, in the upcoming Strange Fate. And so now I’ve come full circle, back to Strange Fate. But I can’t finish until I add the other joy that the re-release of Night World has brought me. It’s brought me into contact with you by e-mail. Night World fans write so many intelligent, articulate, courteous, exciting e-mails! I love to get messages from “old” fans, who say my works “got them through high school.” Thank you for them! And messages from new fans, who say they have just read all my reissued books—and are impatient for more. Thank you! And the messages that simply demand: “When is Strange Fate coming out?” Thank you, too! With a full heart, all I can say is thank you, thank you, and thank you again! I never thought I would have a chance to write an open letter to all Night World fans, and I can only wish that you knew how grateful I am … for this second chance. Sincerely, (LJ Smith signature image) P.S. I love to get e-mail, letters, and messages. Visit me at ljanesmith.net!

[classic80sand90smovieloves2]

Meeting and Dating Ray Stantz

(Not my gif)(Requested by anonymous)

- You first met Ray when you were both still working at the University. You worked down the hall from him and would run into him frequently.

- In the mornings, the two of you would arrive at the same time and he’d open the door for you. You’d make small talk whenever you ended up in the same room or walking in the same direction and he was always willing to lend you something; or a hand, if you needed it. You didn’t know him incredibly well but you did know that he was a sweet guy.

- Ray had a major crush on you. He pretty much fell for you the moment he saw you but his own insecurities kept him from trying to do anything about it. You were smart, gorgeous, and had an amazing personality. What would you want with him?

- It takes him a while to actually ask you out. He keeps going back and forth on whether or not he should, wondering if he’s willing to make a fool of himself just for the off chance that you’ll agree. Peter has a field day with him when he’s in this state, constantly teasing and prodding, urging him to just get it over with and see what you say.

- There was definitely a few instances of him approaching you and/or opening his mouth to say something to you, then quickly shutting it and excusing himself with an apology. It takes him nearly a year to actually go through with it.

- You were just leaving the building and preparing for your walk home when he caught up with you and somewhat shyly asked if you would like to have dinner with him sometime. To his utter shock, you smiled and agreed, and the two of you made plans to meet.

- The two of you went out to a not so fancy restaurant which was perfect for the occasion. He felt like he was walking on clouds the entire night; here he was, with you, and you actually seemed to like him. What were the odds that you would actually like him?

- But regardless of his disbelief over how lucky he was, the two of you had a really great time together and you were happy to see him again the next day at the university.

- The two of you shared your first kiss on your third date. He was walking you home and you were both stood in front of your door, saying goodbye. You were just about to walk inside when you paused, turning around and placing a gentle kiss on his lips before saying goodnight again and closing your door.

- He was frozen in shock for a good minute and a half but you should have seen the smile on his face.

- It wasn’t long before the two of you considered yourselves a couple, and he couldn’t have been happier.

- Ray is a big sweetheart and you can’t convince me otherwise, though I doubt you would even try. You’ll never meet another man who treats you so right.

- He loves Pda, especially when people recognize him in public. He feels particularly cool with you hanging on his arm.

- Quick giddy kisses. 

- He keeps his hand on your lower back whenever you’re standing together, it’s just a habit of his. 

- He likes using nicknames; he thinks they’re cute. He usually just calls you things like honey, sweetheart, and beautiful; he’s somewhat old fashioned in that regard. He wouldn’t even mind you calling him pet names. In fact, he’d probably love it. 

- He’s a strong boy and proud of it! Ask him to hold something! Ask him to open a pickle jar! Ask him to carry you! He’s got it covered! …Although, occasionally he wont be able to open the pickle jar and you might actually show him up when trying it again for yourself. 

- Cheek kisses. He wraps an arm around your neck and pulls you in, pressing his lips to your cheek enthusiastically and smiling down at you.

- Stealing his sweaters. They’re big and cozy and he melts every time he sees you wearing them.

- Takeout meals. You order in or pick something up at least once a week.

- He’s not afraid to make a fool out of himself so the two of you always have a great time together, filled with jokes and stupid/ridiculous behavior. He loves being able to make you laugh. 

- Cuddling? Sign him the fuck up! No matter what you’re doing, he’ll find a way to squeeze himself beside you and wrap himself around you in some way. Whenever you’re going to bed, you’ll rest your head on his chest with his arms wrapped around you; …or you’ll just be laying almost completely on top of him. 

- A lot of your dates are going to be interrupted, it just sort of comes with the territory. When something strange is in the neighborhood, he’s the one being called so you just have to be patient and understanding. He always makes it up to you anyway.

- Occasionally, he’ll stop and pick up flowers or a movie you’ve been wanting to see from the rental place on his way home. He likes surprising you with something nice, especially if he was called away when you were supposed to spend time together.

- Becoming close with Egon, Winston and Peter. You see them constantly so it’s sort of hard not to.

- Sticking by his side and cheering him up when the Ghostbusters aren’t too popular anymore. 

- You may or may not be a partial owner of the bookshop. As much as he loves being a Ghostbuster, he can’t deny that he likes running the place with you. 

- He’s always there if you need someone to get you something or somewhere. He’s particularly good at pushing through crowds and coming up with things to say that will make it easier for you to do what you have to do. He also just doesn’t take no for an answer so, ya know. 

- He’s a total pushover when it comes to you. You can always convince him to do something for you.

- Ray looks like he knows how to fix things. He looks and acts like a man I could trust with my things. If my car broke down, his smiling face would be the one I would ask to help me. So, if you need anything fixed around your house, all you have to do is ask. 

- Little traditions. Things like watching a specific show after dinner, going to a certain place every weekend or eating certain things on certain days. 

- He loves hugs, they’re pretty much his favorite thing in the entire world.

- Random playful harassment. He kind of likes to tease you, jokingly making fun of and tickling you. He thinks the way you react is cute and it’s usually after you do or say something to him so technically it’s revenge. 

- Now, I’m not saying that Ray owns action figures or other toys of that nature, but Ray would definitely be the type to own them.... You may or may not have a little shelf full of figures when you move in together. 

- He’s a big fan of going to zoos. You practically know the animals at your local zoo by name from how many times you go to see them. 

- Carnival and amusement park dates. 

- He gets this dopey smile on his face whenever you try to give him a massage or dote on him in anyway. He’s just so overjoyed that you actually like him and care about his wellbeing. He also just loves the feeling of your hands. 

- Ray sort of craves domesticity. Seeing you wearing one of his shirts and cooking breakfast or being there to welcome him home after work or surprising him by doing some chores would literally make him melt. He’s a centimeter away from proposing to you on the spot.

- The two of you are pretty much the epitome of two best friends dating. You have the time of your lives together and are always completely comfortable and happy in each others presences. 

- Walking around New York together. You wind up just wandering around the city a lot, occasionally stopping for food or drinks or whatever comes to mind when you pass a store. 

- He isn’t the most sensitive person to talk to when you’re upset or scared about something but he apologizes when he goes off on a tangent or says the wrong thing. Don’t blame him too much, he’s got a skewed view of what’s considered a problem rather than a good scientific discovery. 

- Ray gets easily excited about a lot of things, he’s sort of like a puppy at times so even though you might not be so amused with a situation, he’ll be incredibly happy. Whenever he notices that you aren’t thrilled, he’ll usually just give you a sheepish smile and a “sorry honey”. 

- Having him randomly show up and borderline embarrass you when something big is found out. Just picture the restaurant scene from the second movie.

- Visiting him at the office. 

- Letting him gush to you about the paranormal and supernatural. 

- Helping him with his research, experiments, and invention. He loves having you around and hearing your input.  

- He’s definitely named something after you, whether it be a theory, project or machine he’s created. It’s cute, in a geeky sort of way. 

- Be prepared to get scared and not just by ghosts. Sometimes Ray will just pop into view out of nowhere, excitedly talking about something he just saw and scaring the living daylights out of you. He doesn’t understand why you’re looking at him like that, did he do something wrong? 

- He works with all things supernatural and paranormal; he’s seen a lot over the years and because of that, he’s gradually gotten more and more protective of you over time. Wouldn’t you if you knew that evil slime once ran wild underneath your girlfriends apartment? 

- He gets particularly miffed when jealous, not livid or angry just …miffed. You know he’s not upset with you but you can tell that something is bothering him. Occasionally, you won’t even have to figure out what because he’ll insult whoever he’s jealous of like he’s talking about the weather. 

- The two of you don’t really fight all too often, you rarely have a reason too, even though your lives are incredibly hectic most of the time. He doesn’t really have one certain way of responding when he’s angry, everything depend on the situation. One day, you’ll bicker, the next, you’ll yell.

- He always feels bad whenever he snaps at you. Almost immediately after he storms out, he’ll get this pang of guilt in his chest and debate on whether or not he should just walk back in and apologize. He usually doesn’t right then; wanting to give you time to yourself, but does come back not very long after and apologizes, admitting he was wrong if he was and asking if things are alright between the two of you.

- He’s always happy to say he loves you, and gosh does he love hearing you say it.

- Your family probably loves him. He’s a guy that’s easy to get along with …and he’s a ghostbuster so he’s got that going for him.

- Ray is sooo ready to have kids and settle down with you, he’s just waiting until he’s in a more stable work environment. He doesn’t need any ghosties lurking in your kids nursery, even if he’s the most equipped to get rid of them.

[whitesparrows97]

Heartstring Melodies – Part 5

Pairing: Min Yoongi x Reader (feat. Jeon Jungkook x Reader)

Genre: Soulmate AU, College AU, fuckboy!Yoongi

Summary: Min Yoongi, the fuckboy of the whole college and the guy all girls fall for, should be your soulmate? You don’t believe that, you don’t want to believe that. Therefore, you and your best friend make a pact: She pretends to be you and gets together with Yoongi. Nothing can go wrong with that, right?

Warnings: The angst is strong with this one; also a bit of smut, swearing and a lot of stupid decisions

Word Count: 4.2K

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Chapter five: «They slipped briskly into an intimacy from which they never recovered.» – f.c.f.

You had finished the phone call with your father a few minutes ago, but you were still holding your cell phone in your hands, completely speechless. The thought that you might have made a mistake by making this plan with Liv had already crossed your mind days ago. But that you would suffer permanent damage if you didn’t tell the truth, shocked you. To put it mildly. 

This shock almost pushed the pain into the background, which still flashed through you every few seconds. Even if it had no effect on your health, you definitely couldn’t live with this constant pain. Not to mention the emotional pain. You were reminded every second that Liv and Yoongi were just–

You shook your head and put these thoughts out of your mind. You did not want to think about that at all. Ew, no. That was still your best friend. And even though you often had to listen to stories about her exciting sex life, it was different to be reminded of it indirectly. 

It was almost like an annoying alarm clock that would go off whenever it wanted to and that you could never turn off. 

But if you didn’t clear this with Liv, it seemed like the batteries would be taken out of this alarm clock soon anyway; and that forever. 

It didn’t help, you had to sort it out. The faster the better.

With a sigh you dialed Liv’s number. It rang for a long time, but you waited patiently and breathed a sigh of relief when your patience was rewarded.

“What?” Liv asked annoyed. She sounded out of breath and you repressed the reason that came to your head, why that was.

“Liv, we really need to talk,” you began seriously. 

“Can’t we do that tomorrow? Do you have any idea what time it is?”

You didn’t, but you assumed it was way past one in the morning by now. But you knew that Liv hadn’t slept yet and that that wasn’t the reason why she sounded annoyed. So you persisted. “Liv, we really need to talk. Yoongi is with you, right?”

For a moment it was quiet on the other end of the line. Then a quiet: “How do you know that?”

“Are you alone or is he still next to you?”

“No, I went into the bathroom when I saw that you were calling,” Liv explained and now you also heard the slight reverb as her voice bounced off the tiles. 

“Okay, good,” you said and took a deep breath to prepare yourself for the following conversation. “Please let me finish before you argue with me. Okay?”

“Sure, but maybe keep it short. Yoongi is probably wondering where I am.”

“I don’t think I can keep such a serious subject short, but I’ll try.” Again, you took a deep breath. At least the pain in your chest had disappeared. “Well, I just got off the phone with my dad because I suddenly felt a sharp pain in my chest. Liv we have to end this and tell Yoongi the truth–”

“What?!” exclaimed Liv in surprise and you flinched at the volume of her voice. 

“It’s bad for me that you’re with Yoongi. Every time you… are around him, I get this pain in my chest.”

“How do you even know that this is related to him? Yoongi was doing more than great the last few minutes.”

You sighed again on the inside. You knew Liv wouldn’t give up that easily. “The pain radiates from exactly where the tattoo is. That’s why I called my dad and he said that it will be dangerous for me if you continue to be with him.”

You were waiting for an answer from her, but all you heard was the static of the connected call. “Liv, are you still there?” you asked after a few seconds. 

“You like him, don’t you?” came the answer you hadn’t expected instead. 

“What?”

“You think I didn’t see the way you looked at him today?”

There it was, the sentence you had been waiting for all along. The fact that you had to wait so long for it almost surprised you. Normally this behavior from your best friend would hurt you, but right now you had other problems. 

“Liv, please listen to me. This has nothing to do with the fact that I–”

“Oh come on,” she interrupted you and her voice reminded you of toxin, which poisoned you from within. “You’re just looking for an excuse to be with him.”

“What?!” it was up to you this time to cry out in surprise. “I want nothing from him. My feelings for him have not changed.” Lie. “I have Jungkook and I’m more than happy with him.” Another lie. “I wish I could never see Yoongi again and erase the name from my skin.” More lies. “But I can’t do that. I didn’t choose this, Liv. But here we are and our behavior hurts not only me but him as well. So if you won’t do it for my sake, then at least do it for his. Every time I am with Jungkook, he will feel the same as I do now.”

Liv seemed to think about your words and for a short moment you had the hope that you had convinced her. But that hope vanished into thin air with Liv’s next sentence. “Well,” she said and her voice reminded you of a huge block of ice, “maybe you should end it with Jungkook then.” She took the ice block, swung it and thrust it deep into your chest. With the next painful breath the line was cut.

❀ ❀ ❀ ❀

“Hey, everything okay?” Yoongi asked when Liv came out of the bathroom after a few minutes.

She just nodded briefly and let herself fall into the bed next to him. Immediately, Yoongi enclosed her face with his hands and stroked a few strands of hair from her face to get a better view of his soulmate. 

Liv closed her eyes briefly before she sat up in bed and looked at Yoongi seriously. “That was Liv,” she said and Yoongi also sat up as he suspected that this would be a longer conversation. “She is unbelievable.”

“What happened?” he asked and gently took her hand. He stroked the back of her hand with his thumb to calm her down. He had never seen Y/N so angry.

Furiously, Liv ran her hand through her hair. “I don’t know what her problem is, but apparently she has something against us being together.”

Immediately Yoongi pinched his eyebrows together. “We are soulmates. How could she object?”

“I don’t know!” said Liv and threw her one free hand up in frustration, “She’s jealous, I don’t know.”

“Jealous?” Yoongi paused skeptically. “What about Jungkook?”

Liv shrugged her shoulders. “Maybe she’s playing him.”

Yoongi angrily pulled back his hand and looked at Liv. He felt the anger slowly climb up his windpipe and swallow his tongue. He had to watch what he said. “Is this a guess or did she say something to you?”

Liv looked at him pitifully. “This is a guess, but Yoongles… you can’t believe a word she says. No matter what she tells you, okay? She’s a notorious liar, and I’m afraid she’ll come between us.”

Yoongi’s anger disappeared immediately. He took Liv’s face in his hands and looked at her seriously. “Nothing can come between us, sweetheart. You belong to me and I belong to you. Nothing and no one can change that.”

Liv smiled. To outsiders, who knew the whole story, it seemed cool, calculating. But for Yoongi it looked as if Liv was reassured by his words. And that meant that her plan had worked out. 

❀ ❀ ❀ ❀

You didn’t even try to put make-up on your dark circles the next morning. Such a strong concealer did not exist and would have to be invented first. Frustrated and tired, you grabbed your bag and headed off to your first lecture. All the way there and during the lecture itself you thought about the conversation with Liv. You were pondering what you could have done better. 

Maybe not coming up with this stupid pact in the first place?

You pushed back your inner voice and thought about it further. Maybe you just hadn’t made it clear to Liv how serious the situation was. Maybe she was under the assumption that the pain was just a slight discomfort. You hadn’t even told her what exactly the consequences would be.

But on the other hand, she hadn’t asked either. Wouldn’t a good friend have done that? Wouldn’t a good friend be worried if she heard that her best friend was in pain and that it was because of her? 

You didn’t see a spark of concern yesterday. On the contrary, you had never experienced her as you did yesterday. And to be honest, it scared you a little. You had hardly recognized Liv yesterday. You had always thought that no man could come between you. But usually you also had different tastes when it came to men. You would never have chosen someone like Yoongi. It was obvious that fate seemed to give a shit about your opinions and feelings. 

You had to talk to Liv. Best in person and in private. With this certainty, you left your second lecture and headed for your friend’s apartment without any excuses. The walk did you good and you had time to get your thoughts in order. The fresh air gave you some clarity so that you knew exactly what you were going to say to her when you stood outside her door a few minutes later.

You raised your hand to ring the bell, but at that moment the door was already opened. Liv almost ran you down when she barged through the door. “Oh,” she said as she recognized who was standing at her door. “Hey.”

“Hey,” you gave back and didn’t quite know what to do with yourself. All the sentences you had thought of were blown away when you saw her face. 

“Why are you… uh, why are you here?” she asked while standing in the doorway, a little insecure.

“Can we talk? I mean, really talk about this?” You looked at her nervously. You were afraid that she would shut you down again and send you away.

But she nodded directly. “I wanted to talk to you, too.” She looked at her watch. “I have to go to the bank before it closes. But afterwards we can talk. Would you like to wait here? The appointment won’t take long. I’ll be back in half an hour.”

“Okay,” you agreed and Liv stepped aside to let you into her apartment.

“See you soon,” said Liv and closed the door behind her. 

The silence that lingered in the apartment enveloped you and you threatened to choke on it if you didn’t move immediately. So you took off your jacket and shoes and strolled around the apartment for a while. You had been here so many times, all the days and nights you had spent here, and yet the four walls never felt so strange as they did now. 

You took a look at your phone, but not even five minutes had passed. That would be a long thirty minutes, if–

Your stream of thoughts was interrupted when you suddenly heard a key in the lock. Oh wow, Liv was back sooner than you thought. Maybe she had forgotten something and had to come back again. 

But it wasn’t Liv who stepped through the door at that moment and ran his fingers through the windswept hair. Your heart beat faster and a warmth flowed through you as Yoongi looked up and reciprocated your stare. Immediately he froze in the door frame, the door still in his hand. He stared at you a moment longer before he cleared his throat and turned around to close the door. 

“Where is Y/N?” he asked and stripped off his shoes and jacket. He had turned his back to you so you could not see his face. 

“At the bank, but she will be back in twenty minutes,” you replied automatically. You clenched your hands briefly into fists to pump blood through them. Your fingertips were so cold that you were afraid they would fall off at any moment and fall onto the equally cold floor. You didn’t know why, but the atmosphere between you was tense. 

Not tense in a good sense, as it was yesterday. Something was wrong, you just didn’t know what.

Yoongi just grumbled, before he let himself fall on the sofa, phone in one hand, without looking at you again. You watched him scroll through something with his thumb and fix his gaze firmly on the screen in front of him. 

You felt more than uncomfortable as you stepped from one foot to the other. The silence between you hurt. He ignored you, you realized that in one fell swoop. The lump that formed in your throat made it more difficult to breathe from second to second. You cleared your throat and prepared to talk. But Yoongi beat you to it.

“I don’t want to hear it,” he said without taking his eyes off his phone. 

You were surprised and frowned. “What do you mean?” Your voice sounded rough, as if you hadn’t spoken for a thousand years. 

Yoongi closed his eyes briefly as if he was frustrated before he lowered his phone and looked at you. “You spoke to Y/N yesterday, right?”

Ah, that’s where it came from. So Liv had told him about it. The only question was what exactly she had told him that Yoongi was just stabbing you with his gaze. 

Nervously you wrung your hands and nodded slightly. “What did she tell you that we talked about?”

Yoongi put his phone back in his pocket and slowly straightened up. He kept fixing you with his gaze as he slowly came towards you. He stopped about one meter before you. “What do you want with Jungkook?”

Confused, you took a small step back. You needed the distance between you to get a clear thought. You wondered if Yoongi could feel the warmth that developed between you. “What do you mean?”

“You understood me correctly,” he replied coolly, “what do you want from him? Are you playing with him?”

“What, no!” You shook your head vehemently, but Yoongi only raised one eyebrow. 

“Then what do you want from me?” he asked and looked at you provokingly. 

“I don’t want anything from you, Min Yoongi,” just saying his name caused you trouble. 

Yoongi sneered. “At least admit it, Liv.” You didn’t let on, even though you wanted to correct him. “You really suck.”

Your head shot up and you stared at him in shock.

“You are the worst best friend I have ever seen. You’re hitting on your best friend’s soulmate and at the same time you’re messing with another boy. Are you with him to get closer to me or what’s your plan?”

“I don’t have a plan,” you said and your voice gave out at the end of the sentence. You felt the first tears burning in the corners of your eyes, but you blinked them away. You wouldn’t give yourself the shame to cry in front of him and show him how much his words hurt. “I don’t know what she told you, but I don’t want anything from you, nor do I mess with Jungkook.”

Yoongi shook his head. “I hate people like you. People like you are the scum of our society. I hope Jungkook realizes what a terrible person you are. Unfortunately the kid won’t let himself be talked out of it, I already tried telling him you’re just playing with him.”

You had your eyes on the ground so Yoongi couldn’t see the tears streaming down your cheeks. You had nothing to say, you just wanted to get out of the situation. 

“I’ll take your silence as approval of what I just said.”

You felt your lower lip tremble when you had to suppress a sob. Slowly you looked up and you could tell from Yoongi’s look that he was surprised when he saw your tears. “I knew you were an asshole.” You were hoping that this realization would make it easier. That it would reduce your desire to tell him the truth and wrap yourself around him. But still your fingers twitched, the ones you wanted to bury in his hair. 

Yoongi’s hands twitched as well, but whatever he wanted to do, he seemed to hold back. Instead, he continued to watch you struggle not to have a complete breakdown right in front of him.

“Maybe you should stop for a moment and ask yourself who the bad guy is. I don’t know what she told you, but I don’t want to cause any harm to anyone.”

You looked at Yoongi and hoped that you could somehow telepathically tell him what you didn’t dare to say. Your surprise was great when he suddenly took a step towards you and surrounded your face with his hands. You were gasping for breath when his fingers touched your skin. The feeling that flowed through you reminded you of the feeling when you pressed the last piece of the puzzle into place and could finally see the finished picture. 

Your tears stopped, as did your heartbeat for a second, and you looked at Yoongi and saw that he must be feeling the same. His eyes widened for a short moment while he stared at you. You stared back and were completely frozen in fear that any movement of you would break the spell you two were under.

Yoongi was the first one who had pulled himself together again. He let his gaze slide down a bit and came to a halt at your lips. You watched him nervously wet his lips with his tongue before his eyes searched for your gaze again. You saw the unspoken question, which practically dangled between you like a mistletoe at Christmas time. 

As if by remote control, you raised your hand and grabbed his hoodie. You felt the soft material between your fingers and pulled him slightly closer to you. 

That was all Yoongi needed. You closed your eyes and at the same moment you felt his lips on yours. He released one hand and grabbed your hips to pull you closer to him. You wrapped your arms around his neck while your mouths pressed passionately together. You opened your mouth when you felt his tongue on your lips and immediately they fought for the upper hand.

Yoongi grunted happily into the kiss as you buried a hand in his hair and pulled it. The kiss became wilder, his hands moving up and down your upper body and exploring everything that could only be guessed under your sweater. A steady, gentle vibration seemed to emanate from the lines under your breast and you felt as if you were about to be lifted off into the sky at any moment, so light you felt.

But the higher you rise, the harder you fall.

A moment later Yoongi retreated as if he had been stung by a tarantula. Totally out of breath, he stood in front of you and looked at you in shock. Only now did you realize how warm you were. You would like to take off your top to let some air to your skin. But your attention was focused on Yoongi, who took another step back. 

“What the hell?” he said quietly and more to himself than to you, “Fuck,” followed a second later and frustrated, he pushed his hair back but it fell back into his face. You felt the need to smooth it out of his face. But with the look he gave you, you did not dare to approach him. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he cursed and pulled on his hair. He began to run up and down the room.

“Yoongi,” you said softly, but he seemed too engrossed in thought to hear you.

“Shit, that shouldn’t have happened,” he murmured without stopping. 

“Yoongi,” you said again, this time with more determination. As he passed you, you grabbed his forearm and he stopped immediately. His head snapped towards you and he looked at you in shock. You hoped that he could put one and one together himself and understand what had just happened. 

But he yanked his arm out of your grip and you backed off in surprise. “That shouldn’t have happened,” he repeated and let his arms dangle at his side. “Y/N is my soulmate, I don’t understand this.” He stared at you and you could see the wheels spinning in his head. But unfortunately not in the right direction. “What have you done to me? Y/N is my soulmate and you just kiss me?”

“I kissed you?” you asked in surprise.

He shook his head, but not to deny your question. “I don’t understand this.” 

“Yoongi,” you said cautiously and took a step towards him. 

Immediately, he almost stared at you angrily. “Stay where you are.” You flinched at his tone of voice. “Listen, you don’t tell Y/N about this mistake and I won’t tell Jungkook. Deal?”

You’ve had enough of deals. They had brought you nothing but pain lately. You were about to refuse and tell Yoongi the truth but then you stopped when you saw Yoongi’s face. He was desperate. His eyes begged, begged for you to agree with him. 

Without having control over your body, you noticed your head nodding by itself. Relieved, Yoongi breathed out. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath before opening them again. He glanced at you once more before he went to the front door and put on his shoes and jacket.

“Where are you going?” you heard yourself ask. Your voice sounded strange, not like yourself. 

“To the studio, I need to clear my head. I can’t see Y/N, not when I feel as guilty as I do now.”

Guilty. 

So that’s what he felt when you kissed him. Unlike you, who had probably been the happiest person in the world when Yoongi pressed his lips to yours. For a brief moment, you had felt wanted and loved. But that feeling had withered so quickly that the flowers now began to rot at the bottom of the pit of your stomach. You felt the nausea already rising within you.

Without another word and another look, Yoongi yanked open the door and disappeared faster than you could say something else. You flinched as the door slammed loudly shut. 

Your eyes began to burn again and you pressed the heels of your hands into your eyes to stop the tears. You didn’t care about the pain that made you flinch as a result. The disappointment that ate you up from the inside was much worse. 

“I’m such an idiot,” you said, pulling your hair. You pulled them to feel something other than the pain inside you. “Fuck,” you said and angrily wiped away the tears. You were immediately reminded of Yoongi’s gesture and you could still feel his fingers gently caressing your face. You had to close your eyes when the feeling of his lips, which you could still feel on yours, took your breath away. 

You pushed all feelings and thoughts aside and went to your shoes with wobbly knees. In your current state you would not be able to talk to Liv. You didn’t want to talk to anyone, to be honest. Except Yoongi. And finally get this mess sorted out. Fuck, you suppressed a sob when you realized that you wanted to run after him just to throw your arms around him and pull him into a hug. 

You grabbed your jacket and were already halfway out the door when your eyes fell on a business card that was lying on the dresser next to the front door. You closed the door again and walked the few steps to take a closer look at the card. 

CrazyInk was written in italic letters on the front. There was a tribal tattoo that took up the entire width of the business card and entwined the letters of the name. You turned the card around and your fears were confirmed. Underneath the squiggly name was written clearly: Your tattoo store for fine and fancy tattoos.

And what was even worse, was the date which was handwritten on the card. It was dated for the week after next, beside it was a time and you understood that it was an appointment. Liv had made an appointment with a tattoo artist to tattoo Yoongi’s name on her skin. And she had already saved the perfect template for it on her phone. 

Soo, that happened I guess. I’m aiming for probably nine or ten chapters for this story, just so you guys know!

I really hope you liked this chapter! As always, any kind of feedback is really appreciated. I’m happy about every comment or ask I get and I’m excited to hear what you think about this chapter and the story itself. I hope you’ll have a great rest of the week, see you soon! 💜

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Tag list:

@loveyoongles @missseoulite @mymainaccountlol @stillcopingxx @boywithtofucheekies @betysotelo18 @wrecklesseuphoria @welcometothecity @teresaisla @kaheryn @forever-once-gone @deathkat657 @daisybutterlions @ilillyshadow @purplelady85 @kelitt​

[longitudinalwaveme]

Arkham Files: Mirror Master I (Samuel Joseph Scudder)

Hugo Strange: From the patient files of Dr. Hugo Strange, director of Arkham Asylum. Patient: Samuel Joseph Scudder, also known as the Mirror Master. The patient displays a number of antisocial and narcissistic tendencies, and clearly has a nicotine addiction, but no formal diagnosis has ever been given to him, and since he, like the rest of the so-called “Rogues”, arrived at Arkham only a few days ago, I have not had the time to give him a complete psychological examination. Session One. So, Mr. Scudder, how are you today?

Mirror Master: (Blows puff of cigarette smoke) For suddenly having been sent a thousand miles away from home? Not bad, I suppose. 

Hugo Strange: Yes, I can see how that would be stressful. Believe me, having suddenly gained over a dozen new patients in one fell swoop is not an ideal situation for me, either. 

Mirror Master: Don’t sweat it, Doctor. I’ll be out of here in a few days anyway. 

Hugo Strange: I very much doubt that, Mr. Scudder. Arkham Asylum’s security has been improved considerably since the days of the unfortunate Dr. Jeremiah Arkham. 

Mirror Master: It doesn’t matter how good the security is, Doctor. The prison hasn’t been built yet that can keep me locked up. 

Hugo Strange: You are not a metahuman, Mr. Scudder. As long as we do not allow you undue access to technology, you will not be able to effect one of the fantastic escapes for which you are so well known. 

Mirror Master: (Blows a puff of smoke) You a betting man, Doctor? 

Hugo Strange: Not particularly, Mr. Scudder.

Mirror Master: Too bad. I was going to bet you that I’d be out of this joint in a week or less. 

Hugo Strange: If those are the terms of your ‘bet’, then I might be willing to relax my standards on betting. In the parlance of gambling, my victory will be a “sure thing”. 

Mirror Master: So, do we have a bet, doctor? 

Hugo Strange: Do we not need to, ah, set the terms for victory first? 

Mirror Master: You’re right. If I win, well...I’m out of prison, and you have to acknowledge that I can beat your supposedly impervious security system. 

Hugo Strange: And if I win, you will make no more escape attempts and will attend psychological sessions with me regularly. 

Mirror Master: It’s a bet. (The two shake hands) 

Hugo Strange: Now that that is out of the way, Mr. Scudder, I would like to make it clear that Arkham Asylum is not a prison. It is a mental hospital; a place of psychological healing. 

Mirror Master: Then why am I here? I’m perfectly sane. 

Hugo Strange: You call yourself the “Mirror Master” and commit crimes whilst wearing a hideous orange-and-green leotard. If that isn’t a sign of emotional disturbance, I do not know what is. 

Mirror Master: It’s a costume, Doctor. You know, like the ones actors wear while putting on a show? If they’re not insane, then neither am I. 

Hugo Strange: The two situations are not at all synonymous, Mr. Scudder. Crime is not a performance. 

Mirror Master: (Blows puff of smoke) The crimes aren’t the performance, Doctor. I commited crimes a long time before I put on the costume. The performance is being the Mirror Master. 

Hugo Strange: Ordinary criminals do not turn their crimes into elaborate performances, Mr. Scudder. 

Mirror Master: And that, my dear Doctor, is what separates the criminals...from the supervillains. 

Hugo Strange: So, in your mind, the crimes you commit as the Mirror Master, with the silly costume and the incredible technology, they aren’t for money? 

Mirror Master: Well, the money’s nice...but the real fun of being the Mirror Master is the challenge. Matching wits with the Flash, outwitting security, getting my name in the papers-that’s the real reason I became the Mirror Master. If I’d just wanted to get rich, I could’ve done that easily. 

Hugo Strange: Yes, I was just about to mention that. Your records indicate that, among other things, you have invented or discovered an alternate dimension known as the Mirror Realm, which enables you to teleport between locations, mirrors that can hold people’s reflections, a 3D printer that makes perfect mirror images of people, hypnotic technology that works over long distances, a mirror that predicts the future, a mirror that lets you switch your legs with other people’s legs, a number of laser weapons, some sort of flying car, a mirror-powered jet pack, a mirror that allows you to shrink and enlarge yourself and other people, mirrors that create a wide variety of fantastical illusions, a weapon that turns people into glass, a weapon that reverses the way that the brain perceived the world, guns that can transform stolen jewelry into light beams (and back again) for the purposes of easy transport, and a weapon that distorts people’s bodies. 

Mirror Master: (Blows out a puff of smoke) I’m a man of many talents, Doctor. 

Hugo Strange: Obviously. What’s more, when you arrived here, we administered a number of psychological and intelligence tests to you, and the results were remarkable. 

Mirror Master: How so? 

Hugo Strange: In spite of the fact that your records indicate that you never graduated from high school, your overall intelligence score was somewhere around 174. In other words, Mr. Scudder...you are a genius. 

 Mirror Master: (Whistles) Well, I always knew I was smart...but I’ve gotta admit, I didn’t realize I was that smart. 

Hugo Strange: Mr. Scudder, you are, quite bluntly, one of the most astonishing scientists of our generation. You could easily have made yourself rich and famous legitimately. 

Mirror Master: Yeah, well, here’s the thing, Doctor. By the time I made those discoveries, I was already a convict. People don’t exactly line up to hire liquor store robbers from Skid Row, even if they are geniuses. Besides, why should I try to help science and society? What did they ever do for me, except put me behind bars? 

Hugo Strange: After you had robbed a liquor store, Mr. Scudder.

Mirror Master: (Blows puff of smoke) In case you haven’t figured it out, Doctor, I’m not a very good person. 

Hugo Strange: No, Mr. Scudder, you are not a good man...but you are also a very sick man, and it is my duty to help you. 

Mirror Master: What do you mean, I’m sick? 

Hugo Strange: By your own testimony, you dress up in costume and commit crimes as though it’s some sort of grand performance. You have repeatedly ignored opportunities to make money legitimately, and even your crimes focus more on showmanship than on actually making a profit. In fact, the only times your crimes show a profit requisite to the amount of effort you put into committing them are when you are working alongside the other so-called Rogues, which, I suspect, is largely attributable to the fact that Mr. Leonard Snart puts some effort into keeping your idiosyncrasies in check when you work together. All of this suggests that you are emotionally disturbed, Mr. Scudder. 

Mirror Master: So I’m dramatic. That hardly makes me a candidate for a rubber room, Doctor. 

Hugo Strange: I’m afraid I would have to disagree, Mr. Scudder. And I am the medical professional here. (Pause) So, Mr. Scudder, I repeat: why the costume? Mirror Master: I told you already. It’s part of the performance. 

Hugo Strange: And your decision to wear this costume had nothing whatsoever to do with the costumed vigilante who runs around Central City? 

Mirror Master: What, you mean the Flash? He really didn’t have much to do with it. I put on the costume before I ever met him. He makes commiting crimes more fun, but I would’ve become the Mirror Master regardless of whether there was a Speedster around to fight. 

Hugo Strange: So the Flash did not inspire the Mirror Master? 

Mirror Master: (Blows puff of smoke) No. 

Hugo Strange: Then what, exactly, inspired you to put on the spandex leotard? 

Mirror Master: Well, you’ve gotta admit it’s memorable. 

Hugo Strange: I suppose so. 

Mirror Master: But in all seriousness, I was a big fan of JSA comic books as a kid. I always thought their costumes were pretty cool; if anything inspired my costume; it was theirs. 

Hugo Strange: So the Mirror Master was inspired by the so-called Mystery Men of the 1940s and 1950s? 

Mirror Master: Yeah. Let me tell you, if anyone understood showmanship, it was the JSA. Those guys were my heroes.

Hugo Strange: In that case, is it not counterintuitive that you became a supervillain? I was under the impression that the JSA comics presented those vigilantes as unambiguous heroes. 

Mirror Master: (Blows puff of smoke) You know, I never really thought about it like that before. 

Hugo Strange: Then allow me to posit my own theory. (Strange pulls out Mirror Master’s file, papers rustle as he does so) According to your files, you were born to Percival and Martha Scudder. Your father died of cancer when you were only seven months old, and his medical bills consumed all of your parents’ money. As a result, your mother was forced to move with you to a glorified tenement building on the spot where Morrow Street and Baker Street met. The area was colloquially known as “Skid Row”, and poverty, crime, and drug addiction were rampant. Your mother, a seamstress, had to work long hours just to make ends meet, so you were often left at home alone. You and your mother never had enough clothes or enough to eat. When you were six years old, your next-door neighbor was murdered in a violent drug dispute; you were at home to hear the gunshot. When you were eight, you witnessed a violent brawl that ended in a man being sent to the hospital; when you were twelve, you watched another neighbor die of a drug overdose. 

Mirror Master: (Obviously uncomfortable) Can we please stop talking about this? 

Hugo Strange: Mr. Scudder, until you acknowledge what happened to you, you cannot make progress. 

Mirror Master: I do acknowledge what happened! I know Skid Row was a crappy place to grow up; I’m not pretending it wasn’t! But that doesn’t mean I want to talk about it! 

Hugo Strange: Mr. Scudder, I understand your discomfort, but unless we talk about what happened to you, I will not be able to help you. (Pause) To continue: As a boy, you were very close to a young girl named Jennifer Conners, who lived in the apartment across from yours. Her father, a minister at a local church, soon became like a father to you. He even served as your Scoutmaster. You were a Boy Scout, Mr. Scudder. You even earned the title of Eagle Scout when you were fourteen. That’s highly irregular for a costumed criminal.

Mirror Master: (Trying to change the subject) Yeah, well, I’ve always been extraordinary. 

Hugo Strange: That is not the point, Mr. Scudder. The point is, until you were sixteen years old, you were a remarkably well-behaved child in spite of your dreadful environment. You got good grades, you loved comics about so-called superheroes, you were a Boy Scout-you were not a juvenile delinquent in any sense of the word. What changed, Mr. Scudder? 

Mirror Master: (Angry) Why do you need me to tell you? Isn’t it in my files? 

Hugo Strange: It is, but I think it is important that you admit it, Mr. Scudder. 

Mirror Master: (Blows puff of smoke) Fine! What changed was that I watched Mr. Conners get shot right in front of me! (Blows another puff of smoke) He was the best man I knew, and it still didn’t stop him from getting murdered by one of the Candy Man’s drug dealers. 

Hugo Strange: The...Candy Man? 

Mirror Master: Jack Monteleone. (Blows puff of smoke) He controls Central City’s drug empire. 

Hugo Strange: I see. So, your beloved father figure was killed in front of you. I’d imagine that produced a great deal of anxiety. 

Mirror Master: (Blows puff of smoke) No duh, Sherlock. 

Hugo Strange: As such, you decided to start self-medicating with alcohol and cigarettes. Eventually, this got you mixed up with the party crowd at your school. Your grades slipped rapidly, and, by the time you were seventeen, you had dropped out of school and run away from home so that you could better feed your addictions. You committed a number of petty crimes before robbing a local liquor store at the age of 19, whereupon you were sent to prison. While serving your sentence, you discovered the Mirror Realm, and upon your release, you became the Mirror Master. 

Mirror Master: (Blows puff of smoke) So, how exactly does my life story prove that I’m crazy? 

Hugo Strange: Mr. Scudder, you are not “crazy”. What you are, however, is a child living a fantasy life. You used to self-medicate with alcohol; now you deal with your trauma by putting on a mask and playing an elaborate game of cops and robbers with your city’s scarlet-clad vigilante. By becoming this “Mirror Master”, you are reenacting the comic book stories that you loved as a child. You may be a warped reflection of the JSA, but you have nevertheless created a world for yourself where good and evil are simple and clear-cut and no one will ever really get hurt. And the Flash is enabling your fantasy. 

Mirror Master: (Blows a puff of smoke) Or-and here’s a novel concept-I do it because I like money and attention. 

Hugo Strange: Nothing is ever that simple, Mr. Scudder. 

Mirror Master: (Blows a puff of smoke) I’m really looking forward to watching you have to eat your words when I escape, Doctor. 

Hugo Strange: And when you fail to escape, I will look forward to helping you deal with your nicotine addiction, Mr. Scudder. Regardless, I think that it is time for this session to come to an end. We have covered enough ground for one day. 

[lemontwst]

Nessun Dorma | 01 - m!ver.

he says i am sorry i am not an easy person to want i look at him surprised who said i wanted easy i don’t crave easy i crave goddamn difficult

❥ 𝑝𝑎𝑖𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔: harem x m!reader. |  female version here.

❥ 𝑔𝑒𝑛𝑟𝑒: cyoa + smut.

⟶ index  |  prologue.

__

You can’t say no to him.

You don't think you'd ever be able to deny Mira anything, really. Not when he looks at you like a kicked puppy… a tall, imposing kicked puppy with weird horns on his head who could probably cremate you alive without breaking a sweat.

"Of course I would stay with you! Do you even have to ask?" You reach out to touch his face. His skin always feels so cold under your fingers, but the fire in his eyes burns brighter than ever, as if the intensity of his flames depends solely on the intensity of your affection for him.

"I love you, Mira."

Your heart flutters at your own words and for a second you don't even know if you mean that as a friend or as a lover. But, well, you're only sixteen years old. You have a lifetime to figure it out.

You think Mira stops breathing, but it's hard to tell because the rise and fall of his chest is usually pretty much imperceptible anyway.

“I… I love you too.”

He sounds like he’s about to cry. One of his hands rests against your chest. It’s an innocent touch. He’s just feeling your heartbeat under his palm, tiny and steady like that of a little bird, “I will always, always love you. Even if one day you grow to hate me. Even if you forget about me. Even should you fall in love with somebody else…”

You suddenly feel very tired.

His gentle voice is like a lullaby in this field of roses. His words leave you dazed, like he’s casting a spell on you.

“I love you, (y/n).”

The last thing you hear is Mira wishing you a happy birthday before you fall into a warm, comfortable sleep without dreams.

___

A sharp pain in your chest jerks you awake.

It fucking hurts, like your heart is being pierced by a shard of glass. Like the fissures of your very existence are being pulled apart at the seams.

You clutch the spot above your heart, almost elbowing Epel in the face with all your trashing, trying to catch your breath.

"(y/n)! What the hell...?" Your friend rolls away from you, finally letting go of the octopus hold he had on you all night. He's all disheveled as he gives you a weak glare, falling back into the makeshift bed you two share with a groan.

It's not even a bed, really. Just a pile of cotton blankets messily thrown under the skylight of an unused barn. This is your little hiding place, and despite you two having perfectly comfortable beds in the main house with Grandma and Grandpa, you prefer to spend your summer nights sleeping in this very loft, where it's cool and open and comfortable. 

"Sorry! I… had a nightmare… I think.” 

Your friend is used to it by now, “Do you remember what it was about?”

"No… not really."

"Nothing at all?

"No, just…"

"Green eyes." Epel finishes the sentence for you. You've been having the same nightmare for a while, and your friend knows all about it, considering he sleeps right next to you most of the time.

Green eyes. Burning emerald. It's all you remember, alongside a gut wrenching, heart shattering feeling of longing that stays with you long after you've woken up.

"... Hey, you okay?" You must have looked as miserable as you feel, because Epel leans closer to you, peering into your face with worry in his eyes.

"Yeah… it's just a stupid dream." You shrug, leaning your head against his shoulder, "But you know what would make me feel better?" 

Epel shrugs, but the way his brow crinkles tells you he's already prepared himself for whatever dumb thing you're about to say.

He knows you too well.

"I'd feel sooo much better if I had an additional piece of toast for breakfast today…" you sigh dreamily and Epel sighs.

"Fine." He shrugs you off and stands up. When he stretches, a peek of white skin flashes under his light blue shirt.

"What, really?" Your eyebrows shoot up. It's not usually this easy to get him to hand over his morning toast.

"Yeah," Epel walks the length of the loft and starts going down the ladder to the ground level of the barn. Before his head completely disappears under the edge of the loft, he throws you an arrogant smirk, "I wouldn't want the deafenin' roars of your stomach wakin’ up every wolf 'n boar in the area."

You're rushing after him immediately.

He can’t claim the bread if he’s dead.

___

You live a simple, happy life here in the Village of Harvest.

Your journey might not have had the best start—your parents left you on a doorstep in a basket when you were a small baby, but Epel's grandparents took you in and cared for you like you were theirs, and you grew up surrounded by love in a small farming community.

Sure, your days might not be terribly exciting. You don't have things like a mall, or a cinema or… anything invented after the seventeenth century, really, but you have Epel and your grandparents and that's enough.

Oh, and you have Beau.

The little lamb trots towards you as soon as you're out of the house, your belly full with toast and Grandma's delicious apple jam, and starts nibbling at your socks immediately. 

Beau is minuscule. The tiniest lamb you've ever seen, always struggling to follow behind you on unsteady legs like you're his mother. Epel says it's because he feels a kinship with a fellow pipsqueak. You're always quick to point out that Epel is not that much taller than you anyway.

"Good morning, sweetie." You pick up Beau in a swift movement and hold him to your chest with one arm, carrying a wicker basket in the other, "Ready to pick some apples?"

Beau starts nibbling on your hair in response. This little guy… he's always munching.

"Just make sure he doesn't actually eat the apples." Epel starts walking in front of you, throwing Beau an unimpressed look.

You can't be sure but you feel like Beau is glaring back at him.

Sigh. Children.

___

You're always dead tired when you finally reach your bed. Farm life is fun and rewarding, but it’s also incredibly exhausting. That coupled with the fact that you haven’t been getting much sleep lately means that you’re out like a light as soon as your head hits the pillow, barely having the strength to say goodnight to Epel before you’re spiraling into a deep sleep.

…

…

You know you should be surprised to see him, but you never are. You can always feel him creeping around the outer edges of your dreamscape, but it doesn’t bother you. You invite him in every time, even if you forget all about it when you wake up, almost like you know instinctively that he won’t hurt you. Almost like you know him.

The man in your dreams is gorgeous, the kind of beauty that makes you want to learn sculpting so you can attempt to immortalize it. His skin is paler than marble, free of scars or blemishes. His ebony hair looks silky, a stream of ink that frames his handsome face and falls past his shoulders. He is tall, the tallest person you’ve ever seen, and the evil-looking horns on his head make him look ever more imposing. 

But what you find most striking about him are his eyes. Emerald gems with flames inside them. It’s the only detail of his that you remember when you wake up, the rest of him a cloud of black smoke when you attempt to picture him outside of your dreams. 

“Good evening, Deerlet.” His voice has the texture of silk and when he speaks, it feels like the ground shakes beneath your feet. “Did you miss me as much as I missed you, I wonder?” He closes in on you with slow, purposeful steps, elegant as a cat even as he leans forward slightly, like he wants to keep you in place by towering over you. His expression is curious and serene. You have a feeling he always looks at you like this.

“Why are you here?” You take a few steps back, not because you’re scared of him, but because you're scared of how badly you suddenly want to reach out and touch him. Your bare feet step on something soft, like flowers, and suddenly the dull landscape around you shifts into a view that feels strangely familiar to you. An open meadow and a purple sky above you. An endless sea of black roses around you.

“Your eighteenth birthday is tomorrow.” He closes the distance again, as attracted to you as you are to him. You’re like two ends of a magnet, when one pulls back the other follows. “I really felt quite distressed at not receiving an invitation.” The small, arrogant smile on his face sends a flurry of tingles down your spine.

“In any case, I won’t be able to celebrate with you tomorrow.” 

You feel like you already know where this is going.

“So I’ve brought you your gift today,” He reaches out to touch your elbows, languidly pulling you closer to him in a half-embrace that makes your heart skip a beat. There’s too much empty space between the two of you. His fingers linger over your skin, barely touching you. 

“Do you want to know what it is?” He whispers against your ear. One of his hands gently cradles your face. His lips brush against your temple and you shiver, completely paralyzed on the spot, “It’s my love, of course.”

Not granting you the chance to run away, the man picks you up like you weigh nothing and gently lowers you over the roses.

"I don't… I don't even know you." You meekly push at his chest, turning your head away. It's like trying to move a mountain, and the hardness under your hands makes you blush something fierce.

He chuckles above you, but he's not amused. It's a pained, bitter sound, like you just reached inside his ribcage and crushed his heart in your hand. His ebony hair tickles your skin when he leans down to press kisses against your jaw, "Oh, you do know me, beloved. You are the other end of my soul, as I am yours."

His adoring voice, barely a whisper against your skin, leaves you dazed and gasping for air. Your legs open almost instinctively for him, your dick wet with excitement. A clawed hand makes his way from your shoulder to your side, slowing down when it passes over your chest breast as if he's indulging in the forbidden fruit. His fingers glide inside your shorts and he runs a slow circle against the humid head of your member, eager to soak in your juices. 

You watch with half-lidded eyes as he brings his hand to his mouth. A forked tongue peaks between his lips, slowly running over one of his lucid fingers. It brings back a memory of that time you dropped jam on your forearm, and that same forked tongue cheekily swept it away. The vision is so clear it leaves the hint of a name in your dry mouth.

"Mi… ra?" 

His eyes dart to yours and you think they're actually burning. Emerald flickers to life. His snake pupils shrink. He makes a show of slowly running his thumb down his tongue, leaving a trail of precum behind. Your stomach clenches with need, your entire body lighting up like he just poured gasoline on you and burned it with a match.

"Is… is that your name?" You manage to gasp the words out, suppressing a shiver when he hums low in his throat. Every nerve in your body is screaming at you to just give in already. To stop asking questions and wrap your arms around him instead, letting him use your body until he's satisfied. The urge to make him happy is almost primal in you, cauterizing your synapses. The need for him almost tears you apart.

"It's what you call me." It's a habit of his to sound both sad and adoring, you realize. You open your mouth to scold him for being so cryptic, but snap it shut when his hands rest on your chest. He palms the taut flesh gently, a small smirk on his arrogant face, "My precious Deerlet. Always so insatiably curious."

His thumbs slowly circle your hard nipples. Little jolts of electricity run down your spine, your chest growing sensitive under his ministrations. It's agonizingly slow. The sweet way he rubs you through the fabric of your shirt makes you quiver with need, your voice coming out in short little gasps that make his eyes darken to a dangerous jade.

You lay your hand on top of his. You can feel his hard veins move under your palm as he gropes you, and the sensation sends another wave of arousal down your crotch. Shaking like a frightened animal, you slowly move his hand to the side and slide it under your tank top. A gasp leaves you when his fingers touch your bare skin. Mira exhales a long, pained sigh through his nose, then allows his digits to explore the expanse of your flesh. His fingertips tingle and his muscles tighten almost violently as the impulse to fuck you threatens to overtake him.

"Patience, daelin." He teases you, his deep voice a heated, playful murmur. Your dick throbs in response. A small, frustrated whine leaves your lips.

"I'm going to savor every moment of this." He takes his hand away and your heart almost breaks, but the pain is soon replaced by scalding embarrassment when he rips the front of your shirt apart, easily, like it's tissue paper.

Nothing could have prepared you for the thunder that rattles the landscape of your psyche when his forked tongue makes contact with your perky nipple. Your hands find his broad shoulders and you hang on for dear life as he licks, nibbles and sucks like you’re the most delicious thing he’s ever tasted. His mouth is devastatingly gentle and you weakly beg for more. Mira smirks and ignores you, dragging out his tender torture for as long as he can, even as you desperately grind your stiff erection against him.

"Mira!" You're sobbing at this point. Your body is on fire and your dick hurts from the lack of attention, "Please—" He moves to your other nipple and you arch for him, making a pretty line with your back. Mira takes this chance to slip a hand under you, keeping your chest raised to his mouth so that your head falls back, away from the dangerous tips of his horns. But he still doesn't touch you where you want him.

Suddenly, another memory comes to mind, as if summoned by your sexual frustration. You remember something that makes him shiver without fail, and suddenly you feel like you've regained some sort of power over this arrogant man. You bring a hand to his horn and tug and the loud, startled moan that leaves him is enough to satisfy the hunger in your stomach, precum leaking in your shorts like dew against the fabric. 

"... You little brat." Mira pulls away, struggling to catch his breath. His eyes are full of mischief as he looks down at you, the smirk ever present on his handsome face, "Is this how you treat your King?"

You try not to look too offended that he stopped touching you, giving him a defiant look that makes his smirk grow wider, "It is when the King is mean to his Queen."

His expression falls and he suddenly looks flustered. It seems like he enjoys hearing that you belong to him quite a bit. Mira quickly composes himself, the fire in his eyes now dim and subtle like a dangerous warning. 

You yelp when he grabs the back of your knees and pushes your legs against your body in a quick, rough movement, leaving you spread open and helpless under his watchful gaze.

"This is far from me being mean." He growls at you, allowing his instincts to take over for just a second, "So I advise you don't do that again." The stern look on his face makes his presence feel even more oppressing than usual.

It's like he's speaking the words directly into your ears. His voice bounces off the walls in your head, heated and demanding as a spark of his magic runs over your sensitive skin. It's a tingly feeling that makes your heart stutter, more intimate than anything you've ever felt. He shares just a fraction of his arousal with you through the link between your magic and his and suddenly you're crying and convulsing on top of the flowers, the heat between your legs akin to flowing magma.

The world around you loses focus. There's no more questions, no more doubts, you don't need to know anything about him, you just want him to touch you while you moan and gasp and whimper his name. It feels like you're on the verge of shattering and when Mira caresses you with his magic one more time, your stomach squeezes and releases, the dam in your abdomen breaks and blinding white flashes in front of your vision. You're left boneless and dazed and shivering, the shock from climaxing so hard and so abruptly leaving you speechless as you gasp and try to catch your breath.

...Holy shit. You catch his eyes and notice the subtle way he’s panting, sweat coating his forehead as he stares at every twitch of your body with intense rapture. Mira looks almost famished, desperation written all over his face. He looks like he’s in pain.

"I'm trying to be gentle, daelin." He closes his eyes for a moment, trying to keep the pieces of his disintegrating self-control together. Your scent is everywhere. The light spice in the air threatens to render Malleus insane and he has to momentarily block you out to keep himself from turning into his half-draconic form.

No no no, he can't do that to you. Not now. Not during your first time. He wants to cherish and protect you. He won't let his feral instincts get in the way of this precious moment…

"...I know."

Malleus opens his eyes. A small, tired smile greets him. Your face is sweaty and flushed, like that one time he took you deep into the woods.

"I trust you, Mira."

Love washes over him like high tide across a deserted shore, filling every crack on his eroded heart, replacing the pitch-black ink that constantly threatens to swallow him.

You trust him. Of course you do. You love him. You are his and he is yours. Forever, like you promised him.

"... I'll make you feel good." He sounds oddly resolute as he looks at you, his pupils large on a background of gentle flames. He kind of looks like a happy cat and you can't help but giggle. He's still as awkwardly sweet as the scrawny boy in your memories.

"You already did."

He snorts, "I'll make you feel better."

You let out a surprised gasp when he slips your shorts off of you and lowers his face right between your legs. You hear him take a deep breath and then he's exhaling right against your engorged dick. Your legs tremble in response and Mira chuckles. You don't need to look at him to know he's smiling that closed-eye smile you like so much.

Your excitement flares back to life as his tongue traces a slow line from the base to the head. The split in his tongue feels… weird, but it's also strangely erotic, and you can't help but moan shamelessly as he teases your urethra. Then he runs his tongue flat over your glans and suddenly you can't bear to look at him anymore. Your eyes squeeze shut as little earthquakes shake you from head to toe, your hips going numb as he draws slow circles around the sensitive head.

"Which one feels better?" He has the nerve to ask you even as you convulse under him.

"The tip…" he greedily sucks on your glans and your head falls back, precum dripping out of you like a fucking river and coating his face in a lucid sheen of arousal, "Or the base?" He drags his tongue down the shaft and gently sucks on your ballsack and you nearly lose your mind, your hands tangling in his raven hair and gripping his horns for comfort. Mira gasps loudly against you, claws digging into your legs from the shock of the sudden stimulation, but you don't even notice it, lost as you are on the edge of your release. He brings a hand to your shaft and starts pumping, coating his fingers in precum and saliva as he continues to suck on your glans hungrily.

Your dick throbs desperately with the need to shoot your semen all over Mira's face. Everything feels wet and hot and stars, his tongue is lapping up everything you have to give him. It's like he's desperate not to let even a single drop go to waste…

"Mira!" You cry out in a broken voice, trying to grind your dick up into his eager mouth, "Mira—I'm going to—"

He suddenly lets go of one of your legs. The boneless limb falls over his shoulder, your soft thigh caressing the side of his soaked face. He doesn't grace you with a warning before one of his wet fingers plunges into your asshole, the tight passage clenching in shock at the sudden intrusion.

Your moans increase in volume. You trash under him as if you want to get away. This is almost too much. It's scary. He pumps his index finger in and out of you, smearing saliva all over your walls, then he presses that sensitive button inside you and suddenly the bliss is debilitating. He carefully stretches your cute little hole until he can push another finger in. Your back arches as another orgasm crashes over you, scalding hot and earth-shattering and too fucking vivid for this to be just a dream.

You completely miss the dazed expression on Mira's face when your cum fills his mouth, the dark jade of his eyes fading into a glassy mint. 

You're so out of it as you slump back against the roses that you almost don't hear him when he speaks again.

"This scent is—addicting—" his chest heaves and he looks almost intoxicated, "I feel like I'm getting drunk on you..." semen drips off his chin but he clearly doesn't mind. Not when he starts wiping the thick liquid off with a hand before bringing it to his mouth, swallowing as much of it as he can. It's strange how he looks like an animal and a prince at the same time. An otherworldly creature of indescribable beauty, even as he eagerly eats your essence off his face.

“(y/n), I can’t take it anymore…” He breathes frantically, finally allowing himself some sort of relief as he takes his erection out of his pants. His dick is so hard it fucking hurts. He really wanted to take things slow for your sake, but he only ended up edging himself to the point of almost going into a rut.

He lets his hot member fall against your stomach. He’s fucking huge, you stare with wide eyes at the point where his length ends across your abdomen. 

"It… it won't fit…" You mumble, even as your inexperienced asshole clenches with traitorous want.

"Not this time, probably not." Mira cradles your little body in his arms, "I'd have to train you for it to fit. Stretch you out until your insides have my imprint." He runs a hand down his face in a quick, agitated movement. Every single cell in his body is fighting against the urge to ravish you. His muscles hurt from tightening so violently and Malleus has to force himself to count to ten to keep from showing his cock inside you at once. 

“It’s… fine. I won’t hurt you.” He promises, searching your face for your approval as he lines himself against your entrance. He’s been alive for centuries and yet his heart has never beaten so fast. His hawk-like eyes are focused on you and you alone, burning the image of you laying helpless under him inside his corneas. 

Then you nod up at him, looking so cute as you try to put on a brave face that Malleus almost cums right then and there. The head of his dick slowly pushes inside you. Your head lulls back and Mira's hands shake violently.

It's so big. Your vision goes out of focus as your hole clenches around him greedily despite the pain. Stars, it's stretching you so well. He tried to prepare you for this and yet he still has to push to enter you because you're so fucking tight. Your legs shake uncontrollably, the feeling of being so thoroughly filled wiping out every thought in your head.

He finally touches the deepest place inside you, his large cock still not completely inside, and you both go completely still. The only sounds that break the humid silence are your loud gasps and his feeble ones, mixing together in a cacophony of absolute amazement as you two take in the surreal feeling of finally being connected.

Mira is inside you. You completely forget that this is a dream, that sentence repeating inside your head over and over again.

"...Small." He mutters. You look at him and your heart almost collapses at the tender expression on his face. You think his pupils might have turned into little hearts, a light blush dusting his pale cheeks as sweat drips off his hair and chin.

"So small." He makes a show of hovering over you completely and suddenly the sky disappears. There's only him. Above you and around you and inside you. You're face to face with his chest, and as you lean your head back, trying to catch his eyes, you see that he has to tuck his chin against his neck to look back at you. 

…

...

Fuck. Your heart lodges in your throat and your hole clenches around him, coaxing a surprised moan from both your lips.

"(y/n)..." your name sounds heavenly when he says it like that. On a quiet, vulnerable gasp.

"I… I'm going to start moving now, okay?" 

You can't speak, so you give him another frantic nod, squeezing your eyes shut. You're not prepared for how good it feels when he pulls back. His veins scrape against you, the stretching becomes almost unbearable and you're left moaning long and loud in a way that makes Malleus sweat. If you could see him now, you'd notice he looks almost shy, like the first time you kissed his cheek. 

He's almost out of you when he decides to thrust back in, scattering stars across your stomach with a single, gentle motion. Every nerve ending tingles with pleasure. Sweet nonsense falls from your lips and Malleus has to grit his teeth and dig his clawed fingers into the ground in order to cling to the last remains of his thinning patience. His fangs hurt with the primal urge to mark you.

"My (y/n)—" He eases into a steady rhythm, pushing what he can of his shaft inside you and rubbing your abused prostate with every thrust of his powerful hips. Sweat pours down his face, his hair sticks to his chin and his tongue swipes the salt off his lips, "My sweet boy—my cute little Deerlet—" His waist snaps back into your smaller one in short strokes, his movements growing more and more frenzied as tight, magma hot pleasure builds inside him. The obscene sounds that fill the air turn him on so much he's now full-blown moaning. His beautiful voice calls your name shamelessly, desperately, like you could disappear from under him at any given moment.

"I love you—you're mine—" He growls placing a large hand under your ass as he pounds into you, keeping your hips locked to his, loving the way your dick bounces against his stomach, “Say that you’re mine."

The order resonates inside your head. You're not even offended that he's using his magic to intimidate you. You can barely cling to your consciousness at this point.

"I am—I'm—yours, Mira!" You don't even know which way is up anymore, but you know that what you're saying is true. You belong to him. Your best friend. The love of your life.

"Malleus." He corrects you through gritted teeth, then he stops moving entirely, ignoring your disappointed cries as he desperately tries to resist the pull your body has on him, "Say I'm yours, Malleus." 

"I'm yours, Malleus." His real name becomes a moan in your mouth and Malleus finally snaps. There's no more gentle, just a carnal urgency and a need that has waited centuries to be satisfied. He pulls his hips back and then slams into you and fuck, you should be screaming by now but you can't, there's not enough air as you bounce over the flowers and sob, clinging to him like he's your lifeline.

The loud "Fuck!" that leaves his mouth pushes you over the edge, the word unexpected but so fucking sexy coming from his graceful mouth. You clench down around him, delirious as stars explode behind your vision, and drag him right over the edge with you. 

Malleus holds you so close to him you feel like you might melt into each other as he releases pulse after shuddering pulse of his essence into you.

He cums so much. You can feel his hot semen fill you up and then spill out like it's a waterfall. He's not letting go of you, his face hidden in your hair as he recovers from the star-shattering pleasure of finally, finally being one with you.

"I love you." He mutters, voice breaking.

...

He's crying. That lone thought destroys something inside you and you start feverishly kissing his jaw, his cheek, his neck, anything you can reach as you try to soothe him.

Don't cry don't cry don't cry—

You feel him starting to fade in your arms. You can feel yourself starting to fade.

Nonononono— Maker, please—

He pulls away from you and you finally see his face. 

He looks lost. His dark lashes are wet with tears, his mouth is curved in a confused frown and that's when you realize that he loves you so much, but he doesn't know how to process the feeling. He's like a panicked child and you are fading. And he’s always going to remember this moment, but you won’t.

You scream out his name, his real name.

…

And then you wake up, sobbing all over yourself, unable to remember. 

Epel tries his best to comfort you, but you don't stop crying for a long time.

___

Life goes on.

You have a part-time job at a beach bar, on the coastline that extends about 60 miles away from the village.

Epel hates that you have to travel so far when you could just help him out at the farm like you usually do, but you’ll be attending NRC coming September, and you want to save some pocket money for you and Epel to spend on all the cool city stuff you can’t find in your hole of a town.

Beau likes to walk you to the bus stop. Epel would too, but you won’t let him waste his time on you when he has his own work to take care of. Your lamb companion stops following you when the dirt road opens to the fields, getting distracted by the dandelions sprinkled at the edges of the village. 

"See you later, Beau." You chuckle, knowing he will go back to the farm as soon as he gets bored. Beau ignores you and munches away.

The bus stop isn't far, a lone plastic port on a background of sunflowers. As per usual you're the only one here, but the occasional horse and buggy passes by, and the farmers who live in the nearby granges all greet you with cheerful smiles on their faces. They all know where you're headed and wish you a good day at work. You really can't keep anything to yourself in such a small community.

The commute to the beach takes almost an hour. The road zig-zags and then straightens towards the coastline. You're almost tempted to doze off, but finding your way to the beach if you miss your stop is going to be a pain in the ass, so you force yourself to stay awake, keeping your eyes on the picturesque horizon and daydreaming about your mysterious man with the emerald eyes.

You always think about him when you’re riding this bus.

…

You should probably stop being so obsessed with him.

___

The sun is almost in the middle of the sky when you get to the beach bar, and as per usual, it's a crowded mess. This is the infernal hour, and not only because it's hot as sin.

There's people everywhere, craving drinks and food before they go lay down on their beach towels for the rest of the day, their flip-flops leaving sand in every corner of the bar that you'll be sweeping for an eternity. Screaming children run this and that way like they're high on vitamin gummies. Their melting popsicles leave a sticky trail on the ground. They step on it and spread liquid sugar everywhere.

…

Why do you work here again? 

…

Because the pay is good, and your coworker is cute.

Said coworker perks up when he sees you. His ears give an excited wiggle (Maker, he's adorable) and he shoots you a smirk that shows his little fangs, "Ah, kitten! Always a sight for sore eyes." He hisses a 'kishishishi' that you've learned to recognize as his laughter, his closed eyes looking like little half-moons.

"Now move your bum and go change. I need my sla—coworker to serve some tables outside.”

Figures. His lazy ass hates leaving the coolness of the bar to handle the customers sitting outside.

“Is that how you ask for favors, Ruggie?~" You tease him as you step behind the counter and head for the changing rooms in the back.

"I'd smooch ya as a treat but snoggin's not allowed in front of the children." He gives you a cheeky smile. One of the moms around the bar throws him a glare, but he shamelessly ignores it. 

You shake your head and grin to yourself. At least you have him around to make this job a little more bearable.

___

“I am dying.” You groan and rest your head on the counter, the coolness of the wood soothing your flushed face, “Why did I take this job anyway? I don't need the money! I can just live off the land with my lamb companion and eat apple jam for the rest of my days."

Ruggie snorts next to you. He finishes cleaning a beer glass and places it back on the decorative shelf behind you, “Says the one who only works half a shift.”

You turn your head to look at him, cheek smushed against the counter. Rush hour is finally over, but god, you're in pieces. Waiting tables is not as easy as it sounds, and dealing with entitled moms on vacation is a torture worse than stepping on two Legos at the same time.

The sun is starting to set. The blue sky fades into a gentle orange above the deep indigo of the calm sea. Your shift is almost over, but Ruggie will have to stay here for a while longer.

"I'm not a masochist like you." Your eyes follow him as he wipes, cleans, moves, washes and dries plates and glasses at half the speed it takes you to do it. He's like a super cleaning pro.

"Ye gotta work if you want ta eat." He pops open a can of peach tea, then pours it in a glass filled with ice.

"It's not masochism, it's the law of the Savannah." He places the glass right in front of your face. You lift your head off the counter and wrap your hands around the cold beverage as he shoots you a mischievous look. He waits for you to take a sip before adding: "But it's nice ta know you're so interested in my sexual preferences."

You choke.

He laughs that kishishishi sound.

As you wipe your mouth with your wrist and send him a half-assed glare, a familiar sparkle sizzles the air between you.

You bask in the sudden heat for a second, watching as Ruggie's blue-gray eyes trace a slow path down your body.

This kind of flirting is… not uncommon between the two of you, but it never really leads to anything, if only because you're both stuck manning the bar and you can't really leave the place unattended.

But something you can't help but wonder… would he act on it if you two were alone and away from trying eyes? Would you act on it? Ruggie is very cute… and witty and funny and reliable...

Regardless of your feelings on the matter, his casual teasing makes you feel like the hottest person on this beach, so you don't discourage it. You take another sip of tea, sighing through your nose at how pleasant the cold beverage feels when it runs down your throat.

...

"Uh…" Ruggie suddenly looks away, his cheek tinged the lightest shade of pink, "You may uh… want to take that shirt off, kitten."

...

What?

You look at him like he's grown another head.

"Excuse me?" You must have sounded more outraged than you feel, because your voice sends Ruggie into an embarrassed panic.

"N-not like that! It's just…! You've been sweating a lot and your shirt's gone transparent! I can see everythin' from here— I mean, what if a perverted old man walks in and sees you like that?"

You look down at your white shirt. It wasn't visible while you were wearing your green apron, but you can indeed see the outline of your nipples peek out from under the wet fabric, and you figure your wet back looks the same. Oops.

"Ah shit, sorry I didn't notice." You stand up and Ruggie turns his head away at the speed of light.

"No no… s'fine I have— a jacket you can wear while you walk home if ya need it."

Your lips quirk in a grateful smile as you head for the changing room, "Thank you! You're the best, Ruggie!"

"Yeah, yeah…" he breathes, quietly rubbing his temples as soon as you're out of the room.

___

Left alone in an empty beach bar, Ruggie barely resists the urge to slam his head against the counter. His shoulders are burning like he's been marked like cattle, and all he wants to do is to walk into the ocean until the waves swallow him completely. Maybe the abhorrent heat that singes his skin would fucking disappear then. And if not, at least the cold water would kill his boner.

This happens every fucking time. Every fucking time. He should be smarter than this, and yet he always falls for the same tricks, and the worst part is that he's tricking himself. Ruggie knows that flirting with you is akin to showing burning coals in his abdomen. He gets so fucking excited his entire body starts tingling with electricity, which is not the ideal state to be when you're at work.

And yet he still does it anyway.

Maybe he really is a masochist.

And maybe he should actually bend you over this counter and finally get rid of the frustration that's been building up inside him for the past two months.

And oh God, you're going to the same school as him in September. You're going to be prancing around in your little uniform, calling him 'senpai' and shit and he's going to have to go through his heat while being tortured like that.

Ruggie pours himself a glass of ice-cold water and downs it in one gulp.

Yeah, he's fucked. 

___

"Epel! Carry me!~" You cling to your friend, Grandma and Grandpa chuckling at your antics from the sofa and the armchair respectively.

Having finished washing the dishes, Epel wipes his hands on a dishcloth and pushes you away with his elbow, "No thanks. I'm tired too ya know."

This is not the first time you've done this song and dance. With how little you've been sleeping lately, you're always looking for excuses to be carried around by Epel. Your legs feel like jello, you are not walking all the way to the barn tonight. Just changing into your pajamas has been hard enough.

"Yeah, but you slept like a rock all night!" You hug him from behind and rest your lips against his shoulder, giving him an unimpressed look from over his shoulder, "I woke up to you drooling all over my shirt multiple times."

Epel flushes the color of the fruit he's named after and mumbles something unintelligible. He waves goodnight to his grandparents and so do you, then he struggles towards the front door, pretty much having to drag you across the hallway.

"If you're this tired then why don't ya just quit the beach job already?"

The two of you step outside, greeted by the loud crying of the cicadas. There's not a cloud above you, the stars clearly visible in the inky blue of the night.

"I can't do that. Ruggie needs me."

Epel scoffs. It's the exact same sound he made when he saw you come home wearing your coworker's jacket. 

"Why don't ya go ask yer darlin' Ruggie to carry ya then?" His accent gets more jumbled as his irritation grows. Still, for all his fussing, Epel bends down and waits for you to climb on his shoulders. 

You do so happily, nuzzling into him like a spoiled cat.

A pair of emerald eyes flashes behind your eyelids, but you shrug it off.

"Sorry but I'm too drunk to go back to the beach to ask him."

"Only you can get drunk after two glasses of apple cider." Epel smirks, ignoring you when you hit his arm and start whining again.

__

You lay down onto Epel's checkered blanket like a starfish.

"Where am I supposed ta sleep? On the ground?" Epel turns the lantern off, then lights the incense to keep away mosquitoes and other bugs and places it on the windowsill.

He turns towards you with his hands on his hips, watching as you lay in your shared nest without a care in the world, and sighs. So spoiled.

"You can sleep on top of me, I don't care."

Epel almost chokes on his saliva.

You laugh at his flustered face. It almost looks like he's angry, eyes wide and an outraged blush on his cheeks.

You open your arms for him, "Come on! It's not like we won't end up in this position in the morning anyway."

It’s true. Epel often rolls on top of you in his sleep, and nothing you do ever seems to shake him off or wake him up. You figure you can just get right to it, since he apparently loves resting his head on your chest while he snores.

Your friend closes the distance between you with three hesitant steps. "... You're such a moron, seriously." He mumbles, kneeling between your legs and then draping himself over you, careful not to crush you with his weight. He smells like apples, as always. His cotton pajamas and his fluffy hair make him the perfect cuddle buddy. You sigh contently into his hair and wrap your arms tighter around his back.

It’s quiet for a bit. Epel’s weight is strangely comforting over you. The sound of his steady breaths is a familiar lullaby, and you quickly find yourself floating in that comfy, tingly space between sleep and wake.

…

“Do you do this with Ruggie too?” 

Epel mutters so quietly you almost don’t hear him. He doesn’t say it accusingly just… like he’s sulking.

“... What?” Any semblance of sleep disappears from your mind as you catch his dejected tone of voice, “You mean like hugging?— Of course not.” You bring a hand to his hair and scratch his skull like you know he likes it, and you feel him relax in your arms.

…

…

“Have you ever kissed him?”

Okay, now you’re definitely wide awake.

You look down at him, trying to catch his expression, “Epel, what are you talking about?”

He raises his head and pins you down with a demanding, silvery gaze. You sigh and lay your head back down, closing your eyes as you think of the best way to answer him.

“I haven’t kissed him.” You open your eyes and catch Epel’s expression shift just a little. He tries to keep an impassive front, but you can tell he’s relieved, “But I’ve never kissed you either.” You could maybe understand the cuddle comparison, since Epel is your designated snuggle friend, but who you kiss or don’t kiss shouldn’t matter to him.

Right?

“... Do you want to?” 

Your breath catches in your throat. Everything seems to still around you. Your heartbeat speeds up as you look into Epel's eyes. You know he's pretty manly despite his soft features, but he's never been so… forward before. You two have always been like siblings, so you really didn't think Epel felt that way about you. Maybe he's just joking?

… He's not. His eyes dart to your lips and darken, like there's a thunderstorm inside his gaze. Soft blue turns to rainy gray.

Do you want to?

…

"Yes." You think Epel stops breathing, but you don't have time to think about it because he's suddenly leaning towards you, stopping only when his lips are a few centimetres away from yours.

His labored breaths fan your lips and send a flurry of tingles down your abdomen…

___

❥ How do you handle this situation with Epel?

⟶ Lay back and let Epel take the lead. You deserve this after being teased in your dreams by your mystery man and teased in real life by your hyena coworker. Besides, you kind of want to see what your stubborn Epel is capable of in bed... (sub!deerlet content)

⟶ Touch him, claim him, make him beg for the next kiss. With the way he’s always clinging to you, you suspect this is what Epel has always wanted anyway. (dom!deerlet content)

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❥ taglist: @mirrorsandpacts @stormweaver13 @bobaryn @justsomepersons @mokkeguts @maiieus @trashmomarcya @dat-bi-bitch @lem-thebeast @mythrule @hfhgjgji @zzz-sleeplessy-soft-xxx @anicious @kae-draws-sometimes @cogitover @sammy6667 @shrimp-heads @twistedmintcandy @gyghii @akelois @maknae-lenna @chiefcashgianthero @carasketch @mayorkoopbob @linseyz @gardenondreams @andromeda-gay @equus-meretrix @the-king-of-blue @spacebabesupernova @kagicannotsee @doraconia @hello-starlight @yandere-romanticaa @skyboo @uwu-dreams @kay8675 @meltyans @drawbud @msyaoigodkanna @roseinbloom02 @hoodiedevil @ikemenisruiningme @miiluka @hello-selene94 @moondustinhislungs @nosochek-3o @epher-posts @monoshii-wasu @rosavine @bitch-let-me-die @raychel @pumpkiethepie @hypmicluvbot @theallpowerfulrosami @mmquinno @mayunnaise21 @ruvelise @roaringyouth​ 

[bkfics]

VI.

[Back to your pov]

After seeing Ryota off you go back home as a sigh leaves your mouth remembering what he mouthed towards you.

‘Okāsan, are we going to ‘pa and ‘ma.?’ Kisara asks you referring to their grandparents.

You let out another sigh as you recall your conversation on the phone with Sakusa a few days ago, saying that you were gonna take the kids to your parents in Tokyo ‘cuz they miss them.

— Flashback —

‘What can I do for you, Sakusa-san?’ You asked him.

‘San? I, hmm.. can we talk about this in person?’

‘Sure. I’m free tomorrow morning, is that okay?’

‘Well.. I’m in Tokyo right now.. I don’t know when i’ll be coming back to Osaka.. but I really need to talk to you about it.’

Not knowing what to say, you stayed silent and he did too.

‘Aish, whatever. I’m just gonna ask you now-‘ he broke the awkward silent and you could hear his anxiousness and frustration by the tone of his voice.

You started being uneasy about this phone call, but you’re not the type of person to not help people when they need some, maybe he had something important to tell you, so you cut him off.

‘Is it important?’ You asked him while he was taking deep breathes.

‘Yes.’ He says as he continues his deep breathes.

‘Look, I’m coming to Tokyo in three days, I’m taking the kids to my parents, however i’ll be staying for a day, maybe we can meet then.’

‘A-alright! That’s perfect! I’ll see you then, thank you!’ He said with a relief tone.

— End of flashback —

You’re now checking if you’ve packed everything the twins need for the next 3 weeks.

‘Okāsan, why can’t you stay with us in Tokyo?’ Kazuhiko asks while he’s pulling down the edge of your t-shirt.

‘I already took a lot of time away from work honey. If i take more time, i’ll get fired. So, promise to behave and have a lot of fun even if Okāsan isn’t there, okay?’

He nods and starts sulking as he walks off to Kisara.  

‘Are you guys ready?’ Let’s go.’ You say taking their hands and making your way to take the Shinkansen in the station.

After a few minutes the train set off, the kids are already sleeping. You start looking out the window and can’t help thinking about what Sakusa wanted to talk about.

‘Is it really that important he needs to tell me in person?’ ‘Maybe he wants to apologize properly when he broke up with me.’ ‘What if he’s getting married and wants to invite me?’ ‘I don’t really think that i’m ready to see him settle down.’ ‘Should i just call him back to tell him that i can’t meet him?’ You start murmuring without noticing that Kisara is awake and calling you.

‘Okāsan, who are you talking to?’

‘Huh? No one baby, do you need something?’ You ask her after snapping out from your thoughts.

‘I want to do sport like nii-chan.’ She tells you after getting on your lap.

‘That’s great honey, do you also want to play baske-‘

‘No..’ she cuts you off with a sad tone.

‘What’s wrong honey?’ You cup her cheeks and make her look at you.

‘I know Otōsan and nii-chan play basketball-‘

She starts looking away from you and you wait for her to finish what she wants to say.

‘I like basketball.. but then i saw that cool Ojīsan in black uniform last time.. the way he looks at the ball and smiles at it.. i want to play volleyball, Okāsan.’ She looks at you determined and her eyes start watering.

‘It’s good that you know what you want to do, did you think that i’d be against it?’

She nods.

‘No baby, i’d never force you to do something you don’t want, we’ll look for a cool volleyball club later, okay?’

She nods a lot with a big smile stamped on her face and she hugs you.

A few minutes later, you arrive in Tokyo and you find your parents at the exit of the station and the kids start running towards them.

‘MAAA, PAAA!!’ They shout as they get picked up by them.

You smile at the sight of your happy family.

‘Welcome back home, my princess.’ Your dad hugs you.

‘Dad, I can’t breathe. I-I’m not a kid anymore, please.’ You tell him as he tightens his hug.

‘But you’ll always be a kid for us.’ Your mom denies your statement as she joins your family hug.

‘Let’s go home and play before lunch, i know you’re full of energy.’ She tells the kids with a smile.

‘Actually, i have to meet someone, so go head before me, i’ll see you at home.’

‘Someone? Wait.. Is it “him”?’ Your father intuitively asks you and you nod avoiding his gaze.

‘We actually met him a few days ago, he passed by, i know you guys have a lot to talk about.’ Your mom joins the conversation.

‘What did he do there..?’ You ask puzzled about his actions.

‘He went to the tre-‘ She’s about to tell everything, but she stops herself mid sentence.

‘Nothing! He just passed to greet us. Just go, before you get late at your meeting, don’t make him wait.’ You look at her suspiciously.

Sus. F*cking sus.

After saying bye, you walk towards the taxis and get on one. You tell the driver the address of your meeting place with Sakusa. The taxi passes a few blocks and you arrive at the destination, after getting off the taxi you realize that the café in front of you is the same place where you had some dates with him. After thanking and paying the driver, you make your way inside only to find him already seated in the usual same spot waving at you.

You freeze on your feet, almost having a panic attack, but you encourage yourself not to be nervous and starts walking again towards him. ‘It’s gonna be okay.’ You assure yourself.

‘Good morning, Sakusa-san.’ You greet him with a smile and confidently as you sit.

‘Good morning too, thanks for coming.’

There’s an awkward silence that’s slowly becoming tension that could be cut with a knife.

‘So’ You start to talk to break the silence.

‘Let’s- I’m sorry, go ahead-’ He says at the same time.

‘No no, it’s fine. I also cut you off, I’m sorry.’

He starts giggling that becomes a laugh. That laugh, you never knew how you missed it and without noticing it, you’re laughing along with him.

‘Kiyoomi.’ He says after laughing and you look at him confused.

‘Call me Kiyoomi again, Y/N.’

You start feeling shy, so you just nod as you avoid his gaze.

‘Let’s order something first, okay?’ Again, you just nod at him and take the menu from the waiter.

As your orders have been taken, he starts talking to you again.

‘It’s been so long since we came to this café, do you still remember?’

‘Yeah.. how could I forget about it? This is exactly the place that you covered my face with facemasks before coming in, so that the-‘

‘The other boys wouldn’t look at your face, hahaha’ You start blushing as he laughs and looks into your eyes.

‘You also took my jacket so that-‘ he starts.

‘The girls knew you were already with someone.’ This time you’re the one that finished his sentence and your face turned red as a tomato.

‘Hmm. So, how have you been?’ He asks turning away his face so that you can’t see him blush.

‘I’ve been very busy, but I’m living a happy life. So, you actually became a pro, like as you said back then. That’s nice!’ You tell him with an honest smile.

‘Yeah.. and.. you actually became a mother..’ He says looking straight in your eyes, with a feint sadness in it, but mostly a serious stare.

‘Yeah..’

Just as he’s about to say something, the waiter comes with your orders, you both thank him and start eating. You just keep eating, not even trying to look at him and you can feel that he’s watching you while he eats his pie.

He might not have notice it at first but he’s smart enough to put 2+2 together, by your reaction he probably guessed correctly that he’s related to the twins, but he still wants to hear it from you.

After finishing your coffees, your hand starts trembling and he immediately notices it, so he puts his hand on yours.

‘Hey, it’s okay.. let’s go in a quieter place, alright? Let’s go the park near the bus stop.’

Feeling his touch again makes you really calm, so you decide in your mind ‘It’s time to tell him.’, he needs to know the truth, he can be mad or disappointed but he has the rights to know and it’ll be up to him to believe you or not. You stand up from your seat and start following him after paying the bill.

After a few minutes of walking, you’re now at the park and you both sit on a bench under a cherry blossom.

‘A-actually, I have something to tell you.’ You say without losing time.

‘Me too, but you go first.’

‘Well, it’d be rude of me. You’re the one that invited me to talk. So, you should go first.’ You tell him with a feint smile.

‘It’s a question, actually. I need you to be honest.’

You nod and look at him, you suddenly feel a little breeze.

‘Am I the twins’ father?’ He asks with no hesitation and straight to the point.

Your eyes widened after hearing him, you can’t even utter a single word. ‘How did he come up a with a question like that?’ you ask yourself.

‘Why didn’t you tell me?’

‘I.. it’s because..’ You look down on the ground and after a few seconds you finally look into his eyes.

‘You didn’t want someone to hold you back, right?’

He’s now the one that stays silent, not being able to utter a word, so you continue.

‘You’d probably think of me as crazy girlfriend if I told you back then, that I was only inventing excuses only to make you stay with me.’

‘I still deserve to know that, they’re my kids.’ He gets up and starts raising his voice a little.

‘For four years I didn’t know their existence, I could’ve been there for them! For you! But you hid them from me! How selfish of you!’

‘Selfish? Me? Who’s the one that broke up with someone just to pursue their career after promising that they’ll be together no matter what happened? It ain’t me. Also, what would’ve happen if told you then? You already decided to break up with me, but knowing about the twins, it would’ve been a responsibility for you. You’d probably just stay because of them, because you’re the father. If that had been the case, then yes. I’d be selfish as much as I want. I don’t want someone to stay because of a responsibility that they can’t take back, I wanted you to stay for me and them, but you choose your career, right? Well, since you’re living your dream, congratulations.’ You also stand up as your blood starts rushing to your head and your eyes starts watering.

‘If you don’t want to be held back, just go and pretend that you never knew about it. I raised them for four years and still can raise them even if i’m alone.’ Your make up is getting messy as your tears keep falling, but you’re serious about raising them alone if he doesn’t want anything to do with you three.

‘I would’ve stayed because I still loved you! I know it was a stupid idea, but the more I stayed with you, the more I get distracted during matches and practices. I was a jerk. I regretted it and still regret it. But! After what happened at the match, I still care about you, it was right there that I knew that I want you back! Now I want to meet and know the twins too.. so please. Can we start all over again and become a family? I know it’s gonna be hard for the kids to understand.. but.. don’t you feel anything for me?’ He tells you as he kneels down in front of you.

‘Feel anything for you? The moment I saw you after four long years, I still had butterflies in my stomach, you baka.’ You say in your head.

‘I don’t know about that yet. You can start being there for the kids, I’m not sure If they’ll see you as their father.. give me some time to think about.. us two.’ You tell him as you drag him to stand up.

‘I understand.. can I see them right now?’ He asks after wiping some tears from his eyes.

You nod and think that it’s also time for the twins to know who their real father is, you hope that they at least acknowledge that he’s their real dad.

You know you love Kiyoomi. You still love him. But not as much as before.. you try to love him more like you used to.. but there’s a feeling that it pains your heart when you try your hardest to give your entire being to him.. you’re getting confused ideas about why you can’t fully commit to it. Ahh, It’s Ryota. Yep, now you remember what he mouthed to you at the airport and what you heard him say that night. For him, you and the kids are his home.

masterpost | V. | VII.

FACTS: 

The one that inspired Kazuhiko to play basketball was Ryota. 

The night that Ryota confessed his feelings while you were sleeping, you were actually awake and you also cried. 

@rrroadkill @samwise-though @lola2001 @velociraptorenthusiast @mjade1321 @farmertoshi @kurosiee @googiembul @hohoshiumi @floralkawa @miwtze @crapimahuman @setsukobb

if your name have “—” it’s because i can’t seem to tag you. i’m sorry! :((

[pyreo]

fallout 4 struggle tweets: I just had the worst time and I’m literally just going to talk about how much it sucked

I’m on my third, ‘yes I’m really gonna finish this time’ playthrough and I never managed to get to the end of the automatron DLC before. I’d always had Ada around and never did the last part.

My first mistake when starting was thinking it’d be a regular length instance. It was about triple the size of a normal F4 ‘building with narrative in it’. God I think it took like 2 hours

They clearly put effort into the level design and I was impressed by the attention to lighting, atmosphere, even the dingy sound effects. It was pretty immersive. I gradually realised there was a backstory to the place, that this lair was actually the place robobrains were invented and it was showing you the horrific lead-in to how the military decided to harvest brains from living convicts to experiment on turning into robots. They didn’t care, they incinerated them for being distressed by their new bodies, etc etc. Like it’s not deep but it was lore I guess. You’re even paced through the scientific crimes committed an age past by being walked through the prison that housed the test subjects, even a bit Bioshock-esque with observation floors and still-living ghouls inside the cells.

There’s terminal entries for the scientists to go ‘oh my god what are they doing to people in the labs’ or ‘ha ha it’s so cool how we’re doing immoral crimes in the labs’, because you know, it’s fallout 4, but like it’s trying

There’s a main lab that’s devoid of enemy robots for once where you can soak in how disgustingly inhumane the history of robobrains was, see all the equipment and automated needles and suspicious stains on the steinman-basement tile.

None of this has anything to do with the Mechanist, the reason you came down there, who is a normal person wearing cosplay and yelling “Begone Evildoer!” at you.

It occurred to me, in the middle of those 2 hours of working through this hole, that it barely felt like Fallout 4 any more. They gave each room a different vibe, different lighting and colour effects, and they put down a more fleshed out backstory than you’d expect considering it wasn’t realted to the quest. The mood in the medical rooms backhands you with how hard they’re trying to play up the torture realism. There are still brains in jars everywhere. There’s a terminal that jokes about a scientist daring his colleagues to make a cocktail out of the brain fluids. It’s phenominally idiotic but in a way where it’s actually trying.

Then you have to step into a big big room and someone in a cardboard robot costume yells at you for being evil and sends waves and waves of customised robots after you.

The whiplash is too gigantic to be believed. This might be the most utterly serious ‘we experimented on living people that we deemed unworthy of human rights’ played straight in one of bethesda’s fallouts. Apart from the cocktail guy it’s depicted as unconscionable. This is where they decided to stage the funney delusional guy wears a comic supervillain costume hehe :o)

Additionally the lore is wildly all over the place. So they decided to fill in the creation of robobrains? The human experimentation thing is utterly basic, the medical rooms have dozens of brains? Just still floating in there? They also have a gigantic tank with 2 ghouls in it for some reason?? And there’s xrays on the wall, one of which is an xray of a deathclaw skull. I suspect re-used assets with nothing implied by any of this, or someone just flicking through existing stuff they could place and going ‘haha yeah’ with no more thought in it than that

I ran out of ammo in the mechanist confrontation. I’m on hardcore mode so I carry a limited amount because it takes up bag space. There are no places to take cover, because you can be shot through the floor gratings. I spent about 40 minutes dying and loading again every 6 seconds. My playstyle that got me to level 70 is a hide-and-snipe type Survivor, meaning I cannot live through heavy fire and no stealth. And after repeatedly saving every time I lived more than those 6 seconds, inching progress along, killing robots as fast as I could, I EVENTUALLY got to the point where the robot supply ran out.

And the confrontation didn’t progress, because it bugged and just didn’t end. According to the wiki this happens if you ‘kill the robots too fast’.

40 minutes that took me.

This is the point where I find out you can actually skip that entire fight if you find certain holotapes along the way - which I had - and I wondered why on earth I’d missed the opportunity to take the less hostile option I had already earned. Turns out it’s because you have to manually backstrack through the entire facility, which nobody would ever do, and that’s where the terminal to use them is. Instead of like, next to the door.

Then you find the Mechanist and she takes off her helmet and HOOLY FUCK SHE’S A WOMAN, ohh my GODDD what a fucking TWIST can you believe she used a voice modulator and was A WOMAN under the helmet a fucking WOMAN??

Fuck you bethesda

Then they recycled their same script from fallout 3 where she goes oh no I’m protecting the wasteland I’m good you’re the bad one. and you can speech check her out of it. All of that and the person you spent hours tracking down goes ‘oh it was a mistake haha’. No meaning to any of it, no point, nothing

Anyway I just killed the mechanist for making me go through that. I don’t care if the facility becomes a settlement I don’t want it I never want to go back there again

[edge-lorde]

the religion of the galactic horde

“You seem reluctant to help me. But I only wish to use your weapon to bring peace to the darkest corners of the universe. (Glimmer: Peace? If you activate the Heart of Etheria, there will be no one left.) Yes. No war, no pain. Old worlds swept aside, a new beginning for the universe.” --Horde Prime explaining his motivations to Glimmer

the horde in shera was definitely inspired by Christianity and uses a lot of its imagery, the most iconic being the baptism scene. it certainly gives off the vibes of a christian or christian adjacent cult, but what is its actual doctrine? i have some thoughts about that. 

first here are what i consider to be the 3 main differences between real christianity and the horde: 

Their jesus didn't ascend to heaven. He's still with them.

They don't have a larger creator god. They worship horde prime like he is a living god but they don't believe that he created the universe.

They have no focus on the afterlife

this is going to be long.

before i begin heres the sparknotes version of christianity for anyone not familiar. I am not evangelizing this, just think of it as LORE. 

Once upon a time there was a guy named Jesus. He was the son of the one true god, who both created everything in the universe, is everywhere and knows everything, and controls the afterlife. Jesus is god born as a mortal person, sent by god to teach all of humanity the errors of their evil ways so they can repent and go to the good afterlife when they die. There're two afterlives, a good one and a bad one, heaven is the good one and its run by god and his army of angels, which are divine beings that god can send to earth to do things. The bad one is called hell. 

Anyway, in his time on earth jesus was the only person ever to never do anything bad ever (called sin). He tried to teach people how to be good but was Too Good for this Cruel World and was killed. 3 days later he came back from the dead, proving his divinity. Some time after that however, he ascended into heaven without dying, telling his followers to spread the word because hes going to be coming back. Christians today are still awaiting his return. In the meantime, christians follow his teachings left behind in holy texts. 

The crux of christianity is to get to heaven when you die, and this can only be done by following the teachings of jesus christ, believing in god, and believing that jesus was the son of god. Its a given that everyone will do bad things at some point in their lives so you're supposed to pray to god and ask for forgiveness regularly and if you really mean it then god will forgive you. 

thats the basics. 

to my first main point from above, if we posit that horde prime is the jesus equivalent of the horde religion, because hes treated as a living god, his goal is to spread his philosophy throughout the universe, then in the horde religions jesus never ascended into heaven. this would be like if jesus in our world rose from the dead and just picked up where he left off, and never died after that and was alive today. that would be pretty good proof of divinity. 

to my 2nd point, theres nothing in the show that suggests that horde prime thinks that he created the universe. this means that he did not get his divinity from anywhere but inside himself, hes not claiming that hes the rightful ruler of the known universe for any other reason besides his ideas are the best. 

the 3rd point is that the show does show horde prime or the horde caring one bit about the afterlife, save for one line from wrong hordak.

"Brother, I hope you, too, are full of only love for Horde Prime and have no crippling doubt eating at your soul."

meaning that they have the concept of the soul. which is very interesting and ill get to it, but on the whole the hordes focus seems to be on the here and now. this is a huge departure from christianity because chrisitanity is all about getting to the afterlife. that is the reason that christians are supposed to follow christ and recruit as many people as possible to do the same, because if they dont, they or other people will supposedly go to hell when they die. i say supposedly because at funerals, even if the person who died wasnt a believer, in my experience no christian would ever ever ever insinuate that someone went to hell. 

but the difference still stands. following real christian ideology is supposed to have benefits for the individual in the afterlife, while in the horde religion salvation seems to only be found by submitting to prime in this life and being either a tool that he can use to further his goal of purifying the universe or by letting him remove you from it. 

on top of all that, horde prime has the hive mind, which he uses to control the thoughts of all his followers. this means that theres no room for a bible study, no need of a holy text at all in fact, and no room for interpretation. horde prime delivers orders to your brain directly and can tell if you think anything out of line. real Christianity does have the idea that a sin that you just think about doing is as bad as actually doing it, but in the horde these thoughts can be easily discovered and punished. 

the horde religion seems to me to be a strangely secular version of christianity with only the bad parts remaining; the control, the blind faith, the certainty that you are right and everyone else is wrong, the not questioning authority. with none of the good aspects like community, and good deeds. it is a cult in the truest sense of the word, a religion that begins and ends with one person only, that person being horde prime.

so, if you take horde prime out of the equation, what, if anything, would be left? 

i find the plight of the horde clones here to be the most interesting. we know that they do have thoughts about their religion, as it was hordaks belief that he could earn his way back into horde primes god graces that kept him going all those years in despondos, and wrong hordak is distraught when he discovers that horde prime lied about krytis. 

unlike both the chipped people we see in the show and real religious converts, the clones were born into this cult that values blind obedience only, and have no prior ideology or cultural identity to fall back on when they are taken out of it. 

so to answer this question, i must add some conjecture to horde primes backstory and how the clones see themselves in horde primes universe. I already wrote up a brief backstory idea for horde prime/the clones and have it posted on here somewhere. I'm not going to dig it up but you could probably find it in the #horde prime tag on my blog if you dig hard enough. 

To summarize it though, I have it as horde prime was once a regular (bad) dude who became a cult leader under the premise of preaching peace --> he becomes disillusioned with people and even his own followers because he doesn't actually like people, he likes manipulating them. --> this and the power of being a cult leader go to his head and he starts to think that he is the only person in existence capable of living a moral life and everyone else needs to be saved from themselves, the world would be a better place if he could just make everyone's decisions for them. --> he somehow gets a hold of the technology needed to set up the hive mind, be it by inventing it himself, stealing it, finding it, or being gifted it. 

I'll pause here to address the theory that horde prime was originally an eldritch being that simply possessed a dude who would become the template for the clones. I think there's enough stuff in the show that this is a valid read and might even be canon but i don't really care for it. For me, what makes horde prime a compelling villain is that he's a very human evil, so having him actually be an evil demon thing instead of a really bad but believable dude who got near ultimate power weakens his character. BUT, i’m not going to address it in my comic so i'll leave it open as to whether he's got that going on or not. If he is, the clones don’t know about it and neither they nor the other characters have any way of discovering it. IF he is though, it would happen here. I could see it being a cool idea for him to get the hive mind from the eldritch being that would then possess him and haunt his lineage for time immemorial as a deal with the devil sort of thing, but he has to be a bad person before that.

Anyway he gets the hive mind--> he gets all of his followers to chip themselves --> gets those people to chip everyone else on his home planet --> use his planet wide army to harvest all resources on the planet and build his first space fleet and take to the skies and start his conquest--> realize that if he is to succeed hes going to need to both become immortal and find a steady source of new followers because chipped people die eventually and he doesnt care about people enough to figure out a way to keep a self sufficient population of followers alive, he just wants people around to adore him and do his bidding--> invents his cloning system-->

and heres the big one,

his original body has to die so he can upload his consciousness into a new clone.  

and THAT, to the clones, would be the moment that horde prime becomes a god.

his reliance on the hive mind and vast network of followers are what give him his godly abilities, but just as the horde clones could not exist without being cloned from horde prime, so too could horde prime not exist as he does in the show without them. 

i see it as both a christlike sacrifice and a cyclical system of debt and sacrifice. horde prime dies for our sins, so that he might continue to purify the universe so that there will be no more death and more clones will be born, while the clone hes possessing has to essentially die by giving himself up entirely to become the new prime so all this can happen too, and to repay primes death. not all clones can become the next prime however, but all must be ready to die for him, hence horde prime having clone infantries despite also having robots he could send instead. 

i dont have clear thoughts about what the green goo is, but horde primes words about his brothers lending him their life force go along with this idea. the clones give him theyre life force, so he can give it back to them.

another interesting aspect of this is that prime always portrays himself as a brother to his followers, never a father as christ is portrayed as in christianity. i know this is from hordak and horde prime being actual brothers in the 80s show but ive seen this trope come up a few times in media before, where a man raises a kid but has them call him their brother instead of dad. it seems so deliberate. because a parents job is to take care of you, but a sibling, might take care of you sure, but thats not their job. its like hes deliberately trying to place himself on the same level as his ‘sibling’ so he can demand the same amount of respect you would give to a parent without taking on the responsibility to not... ya know... screw them over in the head? idk it seems very slimy to me. but that says more about prime as a character than how the clones see him.

and we still have the concept of the soul to fit in here somehow, and do they have an afterlife? im going to say no to the afterlife. theres just not enough in the show to go off of and everything that we do know about horde prime points to him only caring about himself in life. HOWEVER, there is nothing more quintessentially christian than the concept of hell and i think that will be of use here. 

since the creation of the clones is tied with the creation of their religion, this would put the clones themselves less as allegories of people who need to be saved and more as the horde version of angels. in my telling here, horde prime views all people who do not submit to his will as net negatives to the universe who have to be removed for peace to exist, so by this view the chipped people are the saved, the people that horde prime kills are the sinners, and his military campaign is one long apocalypse slowly working its way through the universe, with the clones carrying out his righteous judgement. but the afterlife isnt involved in this, so even if some chipped people are left alive, eventually they will all die out, and then it will be just horde prime and is clones in a perfect, peaceful starless sky, and thats what heaven is. 

getting to heaven is the main goal of real christianity and it is the same in horde religion, but heaven isnt a place in the horde cosmology, its a physical goal that has to be created. not all clones will make it to heaven of course, because most will die before they reach total destruction of the universe but the clones arent supposed to think of themselves as individuals anyway. they have to be willing to die for horde prime and die for the cause or be cast out and thats hell. 

i dont see prime as someone who would kill his own followers outright too often even though he could. plus they arent supposed to value their individual lives the same way normal people do anyway it doesnt seem like a real punishment, they need something worse than simple death to fear. so by my view hell for the clones is separation from prime. it can be in life or death. no matter how bad it is in the horde being on the outside of it has to seem worse, and thats where the concept of the soul comes in. when one is a part of the hive mine, their soul is with prime. they are not supposed to have a will or any thoughts beyond love for prime, its essentially the same as not having a soul but they think of it as being at peace. being cast out is to be never at peace and would be told to them as being the worst possible thing that could ever happen to someone because it corrupts the soul. 

“a lot of unpleasant things happen in the horde so just imagine how terrible it must be outside of it! you cant because i protect you from that. now get in the goo, this is for your own good” - horde prime probably 

this is why outsiders are so resistant to submitting to primes light and also why its ok to kill them, in the hordes view. 

so, to start wrapping thigs up, there is no horde without horde prime. the religion starts and ends with him. because he is supposed to be the only person ever to be able to make true moral and just decisions, without him is followers cant take any actions without worrying that they are going against primes will. since they have no holy text they cant extrapolate and try to figure it out either. its up in the air whether or not they are going to find a way to get the horde to make the jump from cult to regular religion.

its late i got to go to bed now

[lovenona]

omg hi i just binged the artist!jjk universe thing and ... can i say that as an art student with an art history minor... going to a Big Fancy Art School... the vibes are spot on and i just akdkgk all you need is like art professors saying “ok let’s take a 10 min smoke break” and you’ve basically got the entire experience

i am also thinking about talking about late-19th early 20th century european modernism with (non toxic/pre art show fiasco) getou and having him both praise and hate on picasso for inventing cubism but also being an all around dickhead of a guy and also talking about the cultural appropriation and imperialism that influenced primitivism and and and and (sorry anyway) and how artist!sukuna would react and try and keep up or try and monopolize reader’s attention ... many thoughts head full (also sorry for rambling i just.. really like this AU, i may or may not find it a bit too relatable)

(sksjsk god artist! au is based on some of my past college experiences....solidarity in pretentious art school vibes 😔✊) 

God Would Geto Be Annoying As Fuck, But We Love It So Much. like, this man would shamelessly mansplain everything about european modernism to you while you’re sitting in a lecture On That Topic. he’s so fucking pretty, though, that you don’t mind if geto repeats what you already know. 

and besides, you can’t help but be fascinated by what he has to say: because even if geto is a somewhat condescending, that doesn’t change the fact you’re enraptured by imperialism and art and everything in between. that doesn’t change the fact that you want to know. 

(of course, geto, being the “activist” he is, still can’t go a class period without bringing up the serious problems of colonialism just to have a discussion with the professor that none of you are quite able to follow. you think he’s handsome when his eyebrows furrow.) 

it’s pretty clear, then, why you would enjoy sitting next to geto during class or in the library. he’s a fountain of knowledge on a period of art history you, a simple baroque and renaissance enthusiast, don’t know much about. geto offers to take you to the art gallery on weekends just so he can show you some of these works in person, so you can really understand the politics behind them. he recommends you books from the library and even lets you borrow his own textbooks, dog-eared and well-worn. 

with his smooth words, geto holds the entirety of your attention. he’s a fountain of political excellence who can tell you the history of any early-20th-century painting you see. you think it’s handsome of him, really, to be so politically aware, to be so to kind. 

you also like to hold his hand at the museum while he speaks.

and this, of course, is what drives sukuna mad. shouldn’t he be the center of your universe? shouldn’t you be enraptured by his latest paintings, by his tattoo designs? geto makes decorative bowls, sukuna tries to tell you, but i make real art. so why don’t you care? why are you listening to geto talk about picasso and braque instead of watching sukuna’s paintbrush move? 

(even worse, sukuna can’t stand cubism. i think braque would make him angry in ways he cannot even articulate. if sukuna saw braque’s work in person, he would tear it off the wall.) 

furthermore, it enrages sukuna to think that geto knows things he doesn’t, to think that geto might somehow be better than him. sure, it’s no secret that sukuna doesn’t give a fuck about the majority of art history: why care about the dead when he’s right there, already the greatest artist among them? but perhaps, he realizes in alarm, that’s what he needs for you to listen to him. you don’t care about geto’s bowls; you care about what geto has to say about the isms, cubism and primitivism and futurism. 

so that’s what he does. sukuna, reluctantly, in denial, starts to collect knowledge. when he wants your attention, he tells you about tattoo history. he tells you about the history of painting and the how renaissance artists made their colors. he tells you about artists you’ve never heard of to monopolize you, to show you he’s just as interesting and cool.

sukuna doesn’t care if you know his fun facts already: he’s putting his goddamn google searches to use. he researches every artist geto’s ever mentioned just so he can try to talk about it first, so he can become the intelligent one. 

it’s actually rather amusing, really, to watch sukuna try so hard while denying his efforts at the same time. and while it might not always work, it’s still worth it, he thinks, when your eyes turn towards him. 

(and if mansplaining art history to you doesn't work, well, he can always resort to throwing an arm around your shoulders and ushering you away, smooth and cool to somewhere private.) 

[queenofthefullmoon]

An exhaustive list of Dark Souls 3 bosses I would or would not date

Iudex/Champion Gundyr

We’re starting off this list with a strong yes. Our boy Gundyr has had a hard, difficult life, and he deserves some good company. He’s tall, strong, and I trust him to protect us as we set a lovely camp site outside of the fire link shrine.

Vordt of the Boreal Valley

Vordt is big and he is feral which are truly the only two qualities I look for in a man. Together we’d be unstoppable. I mean, think about how easy it would be to go around with him: just climb on his back and let the rodeo begin, baby. This argument alone should be enough to convince you that Vordt is a suitable boyfriend, but here’s another one: if you get too hot in the summer, worry fucking not for your gigantic man can hold his equally gigantic hammer over you and cover you with snow like an italian man covering his pasta with parmesan.

Cursed Rotted Greatwood

Now while I’m certain it would be a perfect partner for some people, the Cursed Rotted Greatwood isn’t for me. For one, I am not fan of curses, or rot, or weird sticky balls, or strange orange acid, or pale white and slightly viscous hands bursting through a living tree. Secondly, I feel like the crowd of Hollows who group up around the tree would be a big impediment to our intimacy, and I’m not ready to be the mother of 20 Hollows.

Crystal Sage

No offense but you’d be an idiot for not wanting to date the Crystal Sage. All wrapped up in one package, you get a super competent sorcerer bf, who wears the coolest hat in the galaxy and an equally cool cape, and who overall looks like the upgraded version of a plague doctor. In addition to that he also has a pretty rapier so you can both engage in some sparring (which we all know is the most romantic couple activity).

Deacons of the Deep

Probably one of the worst options on the list, they’re all crusty, rotting men moaning around a biggass coffin. There are many technical questions. If I dated a deacon, would I have to date all of them? Can we go out on dates or are they obligated to stay next to the coffin at all times? Can I even date them at all?? Not that I would, because I have standards. The only pro to entering this relationship(s?) would be that I’d probably get one of their robes for free, but the cons are so numerous that I’d rather buy it myself.

Abyss Watchers

Let’s be real and honest even if it hurts. Would I date an Abyss Watcher? Yes. Maybe I’d even date two. However, would an Abyss Watcher date me? No, because they’re all in love with Artorias, and I can’t blame them for that.

Old Demon King

At first I considered dating the Old Demon King like a Russian Instagram model dates an old, rich American man: with a great deal of fake love but above all great patience in order to be the only person on the will. But then I thought about it more, and what does the Old Demon King have to offer, really? A big firework show that will leave him exhausted like the old creature he is, and maybe some pyromancies. Truly, it is not worth it, especially since I’d have to take residence where he lives, in a big old room filled with the corpses of his kin.

High Lord Wolnir

I’ve got nothing against Wolnir personally, but I have no interest in skeletons, nor in his army of skeleton children. As stated above I’m not ready to be a mother. I feel like if we got in an argument and he sighed, he would poison me with his awful breath and I would die a horrible death. Also, living on the brink of the Abyss doesn’t appeal to me that much. However I would like Wolnir to be a good friend I can talk jewelry with because let’s be honest, the man (skeleton?) is blinged the fuck out even in death and I respect that.

Yhorm the Giant

Yes, I would date Yhorm. He was nothing but a sweet, misunderstood giant who always tried to get people to trust him and he convinced me. I would put my life in his big hands. Think of the possibilities. Just like with Vordt he could carry you everywhere but in a less reckless way if you prefer proper manners. You’d never have to worry about not seeing anything at a concert. Also, may I add that waiting for you to show up while sitting on his biggass throne is an absolute power move? Yhorm is a Lord of Cinder, but above all, a Lord of this heart.

Pontiff Sulyvahn

Would I date him because of his appealing aesthetic? Yes. Would I date him for anything else? No. Sulyvahn is absolutely terrifying, completely unhinged in the most frightening way, which is that he doesn’t look bat shit crazy. I could be thinking that everything is going well in our relationship then suddenly he’d lock me in a dungeon then would feed me to his weird friend because I put a fork in the knife drawer. He could pretend to propose and give me a weird fucked up ring with his eye in it and the next thing I know I’d be running in a field on all fours. I don’t trust like that.

Aldritch, Devourer of Gods

I’m so sad about Aldritch because literally everything about him is completely unappealing, unacceptable, unnatural, unholy, abhorrent, but he has the delicate and beautiful face of Gwyndolin. While our lovely Gwyndolin looks gorgeous as ever it doesn’t make up for the fact that Aldritch devoured people and probably wouldn’t find love to be a good reason to not eat his partner. The only reason I can find to have a friendship (not even a romantic relationship) with him is if you really like experimenting with cooking and you really, really need someone to taste your inventions.

Dancer of the Boreal Valley

I feel attraction, which means that just like any other being who feels attraction, I would date the Dancer. She is beautiful, graceful, a bit feral, and would not hesitate to put a flaming knife to my throat, which is the description of my dream woman. Imagine walking the streets with her, trying to hold her hand while it dangles 3 feet above you and she insists on holding her sword, actually, so she might slay anyone who tries to approach you, which she communicates through icy breaths and murmurs. The date of a lifetime.

Oceiros, the Consumed King

Another awful choice on this list, Oceiros is RABID and also, as far as we know, still a married man. You really want to date a man that hasn’t even gone through his divorce but already looks like this? Me neither. I’m already not big on dragon fucking but the fact that he’s all viscous and has weird growths all over him is not helping. Also, he has children, and we know how I feel about that — although, given how he treats them, he probably won’t have kids very soon (too far?).

Ancient Wyvern

So I’ve stated that I’m not very big on dragon fucking. With that said, do I think the wyvern is sexy and beautiful? Absolutely so. You’re probably like « Blue you’re sending mixed signals, are you gonna date the lizard or not? » and to that I say, date? Perhaps not. I would however like to form a lifelong bond with this wonderful force of nature and fight by its side, live a long and fulfilling life travelling along with it, only to die at the same time atop the tallest mountain in the world, where our skeletons will be discovers hundreds of years in the future by brave explorers, who will confirm that the legendary songs that were written about us were in fact not just a myth.

Nameless King

You’ve just read what I said about the wyvern. I feel like the Nameless King really understands me and would respect me for that. We could bond over our love of dragons and other flying scaly beasts and perhaps share some chaste kisses while soaring the sky on our companions. It’s nice to date someone who loves pets as much as you. I feel like he would be a fun guy to hang around in general, maybe he’d let you braid his hair or try on his crown. He can arrange personalized fireworks shows for you with his lightning powers. I don’t think you’d ever be bored around him.  

Dragonslayer Armor

Dating an empty suit of armor has never bothered me (see: ds2 Ruin Sentinels), however I have beef with the dragonslayer armor. Is it a beautiful armor? Perhaps a bit worn off, but the reply remains affirmative. However, it is controlled by Pilgrim Butterflies, which basically means I’m dating one to multiple of these things in the shape of an armor, and I’ve gotta confess that I’m not down for that.

Lorian Older Prince and Lothric Younger Prince

Here comes the delicate moment where we have to make a choice without offending anyone. I personally, speaking for myself, in my own opinion, would rather date Lorian. Reason: he is big, strong, and a bit rabid, which I’ve made very clear is my type. I don’t dislike Lothric, but I feel like we’d be better off as best friends who have a really snarky group chat where we shit talk the entire kingdom. That’s pretty good because if I even just slightly disliked Lothric I’m pretty sure Lorian would sense it and would not hesitate to murder me on sight.

Champion’s Gravetender and Champion Greatwolf

Well the full name is just a formality here, I’m not completely insane so I don’t want to date this rabid wolf. I feel like the Champion’s Gravetender is just a normal dude who’s a bit in over his head and it’s not his fault but he just seems a bit boring compared to all my other options. Instead of a date I think he’d be more of an awkward flirt I had when I was bored and then I came to my senses but didn’t know how to disengage, but in the end it worked out because he was more interested in his work anyway.

Sister Friede and Father Ariandel

Again a choice has to be made and I will have to be predictable and say I’d date Elfriede. Just like Dancer she’s what the woman of my dreams is made of. She’s graceful and could easily take my life and I think it’s awfully sexy of her to be like that. I think I’d be accepted into the family pretty easily, which is important since Father Ariandel cares about Friede so much. I’d go visit him sometimes, play chess with him, bring him his flail, normal interactions with your girlfriend’s dad.

Soul of Cinder

I’m gonna be a tiny bit freaky here and say I’d date the Soul of Cinder. Dating it is just like opening a Kinder Surprise egg, you never know what you’re gonna get (sorry Americans for excluding you here). That makes life exciting and doesn’t let routine stall your relationship. Every day you can wake up with the question « What weapon will my darling walk around with today? The flaming sword, or the sorcery staff? » and be surprised by the answer. Truly ideal, but I understand it’s not for the faint of heart.

Demon Prince

I’m gonna go with a maaaaaaybeeeee? leaning towards no. I mean yes, the Demon Prince is a weird fleshy flaming demon, and that may be a bit gross, but I’ve gotta admit I admire his style, the drama of it all. The care he puts into his entrance, the attitude in his moves. If we don’t date I’d at least want to be friends so he can teach me his ways.

Darkeater Midir

I have very intense and contradictory feelings towards Midir. In one hand, holy shit, absolutely epic dragon, the spirit of companionship is growing in me. On the other hand, this beast is RABID and pretending I could tame him is foolish, and pretentious. I guess in the end the answer remains that I don’t date dragons, I just want to adopt them as my extremely exotic pets.

Halflight, Spear of the Church

Yeah I’d date Halflight, I know it’s the easy answer but look at him. I mean shit he’s walking around like a little thotty with his shirt open and you mean to tell me I’m not supposed to wanna date him because he looks pretty much like a regular dude? My boy Halflight WANTS me to date him or else he would not show up with his tiddies out to a sword fight, which as an activity already has enough erotic implications on its own.

Slave Knight Gael

I’m gonna say it unashamedly and I’ll say it again: I would date Gael. He’s been nothing but helpful and when he tries to attack you it’s to help his little lady that he’s adopted as his niece. We love a chaotic parental figure. Maybe he’s a tad bit old and dirty but there’s nothing a good bath can’t fix and I’m sure he’d appreciate having someone taking care of him for once. Again, he’s got that slightly unhinged quality to him that makes him delightful. When I walk around with my partner I want us to instill both fear and fascination in people which we would be able to accomplish perfectly well.

Dark Souls 1: Remastered date list // Dark Souls 2: Scholar of the First Sin date list