#If you have no idea who this is don't worry about it

[bweirdart]

nearly oc-tober time again - time for some prompts for 2024

F.A.Q

do i have to draw? not at all! you are free to participate with any medium that suits you... writing, artwork, free bases and templates, simple text posts, in-character-as-your-oc roleplay, whatever! (just no stealing or AI)

do i have to make new content? nope! re-uploading old stuff that fits the prompts is allowed (and encouraged) ... old art that didn't get the appreciation it needed always deserves a chance to be shared again, it's a fun throwback!

do i have to post every day? nope! only 10 days are mandatory (the ones in red with a star symbol) and everything else (yellow) is 100% optional! if you're busy or tired, please skip as many as you want

can i start early? you can prep your posts in advance if you need to ... but please wait until the right day in october to share them!

can i re-upload your prompt list to another site? i would prefer if you dont - i have accounts on most sites, so just reblog/retweet/share from me!

event tag? #bweirdOCtober

have fun!

image desc/text version ↓under the cut↓ or on bweird.art/october

prompts:

WEEK 1: OC INTRODUCTIONS

⭐ 1: FAV OC what makes them your fav? 2: NEW OC how recently did you make them? 3: OLD OC how long ago did you make them? ⭐ 4: UNDER-APPRECIATED OC an oc you feel like you don't talk about enough, or you haven't fleshed out as much as you would like 5: RE-DESIGNED OC an oc who has changed a lot (what changed about them?) or, if you haven't redesigned an oc: is there anything you might want to change about an existing oc?

WEEK 2: BUILDING BACKSTORY

⭐ 6: PAST where is your oc from? what did they look like as a child? 7: LIKES what do they like (and why?) 8: DISLIKES what don't they like (and why?) ⭐ 9: RELATIONSHIPS doesn't have to be romantic! can any kind of relationship (frienship, family, rivalry etc) 10: PERSONALITY what are your oc's main personality traits 11: SYMBOLISM/THEMES what represents your oc? is there a specific colour you associate them with, or a specific animal? 12: FUTURE what will your oc look like in the future? do they have any plans or goals?

WEEK 3: FUN + GAMES

⭐13: MEMES do any memes remind you of your oc? are there memes your oc would find funny? maybe you want to redraw your oc as one? 14: WHO/WHAT INSPIRED YOUR OC are there existing characters that your oc looks like? was your oc based on yourself? is your oc originally from a specific fandom? 15: MUSIC share a character playlist, write a songfic, post lyrics that remind you of them, etc ⭐16: EYES CLOSED or NON DOMINANT HAND draw a picture of your oc with your eyes closed or with your non domminant hand, write or type a paragraph about them without your eyes closed, etc ... have fun, and don't worry about it looking "bad" -it's meant to!! 17: DnD ALIGNMENT CHART put all your ocs into a DnD alignment chart, or any other similar chart if you prefer i've compiled a few templates on my site, but you can find more easily if you google "oc alignment chart" ⭐18: SWAP swap something between your ocs - their role in the story, hairstyles, personalities, fashion taste, species ... whatever you want! how would this difference change them? 19: PALETTE CHALLENGES draw your ocs with as many of these colour palettes as you want (or just skip if you don't draw/don't like doing these!)

hex codes for the colours: palette 1 - #3C1E81 #6D1EA2 #B059E8 #FE0876 #FE5284 #FE7C96 #E0CFE3 #FFD5C3 palette 2 - #352823 #673F28 #AB541C #BA8233 #897128 #A68B2F #F7BF6A #DAC3A4 palette 3 - #A42E25 #D7412B #E47C29 #F7A233 #FCC02D #FCE4A6 #486548 #FEFDE8 palette 4 - #2F4769 #39597E #53779C #94D1E7 #AADDE7 #D48DB7 #D498B5 #D2BABA

WEEK 4: COMMUNITY

20-26: A WHOLE WEEK OF SOCIAL STUFF if you don't have the time/energy to do every day this week, ⭐ day 23 is the only one marked as mandatory! you can skip the rest!

some ideas for what you could do: talk about a friend's oc you like, make gift art/writing of them, collabs, trades, reblog/appreciate ocs in the event tag, make interactions between your ocs and other people's

WEEK 5: HALLOWEEN

⭐27: FEARS is your oc scared of anything? do they have any phobias? are they startled easily? would any of your ocs try to scare ppl on purpose? 28: MONSTER what would your oc be if they were a monster (eg: werewolf, vampire, eldritch beast.. whatever) or, do you have an oc who is already a monster? 29: PUMPKIN CARVING your ocs carving pumpkins, a drawing of a pumpkin carved to look like your oc ... or even carve it in real life! 30: GHOST this can be literally a ghost, or a concept that haunts your oc! up to you! ⭐ 31: COSTUMES what are your ocs wearing for halloween?

[strawbuddy-luv]

Trans Tim off handedly mentioning random things that just confuse people more and more because he never told them he was trans (only Bruce and Alfred know)

Tim: "For the mission I'm thinking I'll go undercover, but it'll take some work to hide the bruises I got earlier. They're everywhere"

Dick: "Oh I think Steph is free right now!"

Tim: "...Ok?"

Dick: "Don't worry I'm sure she'll help you out with this! "

Tim: "That's awesome but I don't think I'll need help. I know how to use makeup."

Dick: "Really-? Ohhh, yeah your public image is like, way more public than ours. That must be tiring, having to hide the bruises all the time."

Tim: "Well yeah but I knew how to use makeup before that. For like, galas as a kid and stuff"

Dick: "...yeah..."

-----

Steph: -Complaining about a man- "And then he said "Oh you should smile more" like "you look like you don't want to be here" like what- what the fuck-??? Maybe I fucking don't dude."

Tim: "Oh yeah I hate when they do that. Like you've spent the entire time bitching about the consistency of snails, I can close my mouth for a few seconds."

Steph: "..."

Tim: "...What-?"

Steph: "Well- I mean yeah but- you know I have to deal with it like...way more, and it's just a bit weird that like, you as a guy are, I dunno, trying to relate? I mean you don't have to deal with it litreally everyday"

Tim: "Well yeah not anymore, but, you know...I still did."

Steph: :...What-"

-----

Tim: -Resting against one of the rooftop ledges-

Jason: "Woah, I can't believe it, Red Robin, slacking. What would Bruce do if he saw this!"

Tim: "Fuck off, it's just period cramps." -Jumps off the edge of the building-

Jason: "Yeah whatever Timblina...

Your fucking what-"

-----

Bruce: "And for this mission, we'll be needing someone for the Caroline disguise, but we already know who that is so-"

Dick: "Wait does Steph actually know how to fight in heels-??"

Bruce: "...N-"

Steph: "Yeah Bruce, I mean, you could at least actually ask me before volunteering me to go fight crime in that dress."

Bruce: "You-"

Jason: "I mean no offense, but literally who else would do it? Cass isn't here right now and I don't think any of us are willing to get a boob job for the mission"

Bruce: "No one's getting a boob job-"

Steph: "Yeah! This is bat tech, Bruce probably has ultra realistic titties in everyone's color and size! Jason you wouldn't even need an attachment."

Jason: "I don't think Caroline Hills has fifty gun shot wounds and muscles the size of most those guys heads."

Steph: "Yeah bu-"

Bruce: "None of that will be necessary because none of you" -Pointing at the right side of the table- "Will be going. No one at this table will be needing any prosthetics...Or boob jobs."

Steph: "...Ok but who the fuck is going then-"

Bruce: "Tim."

The entire table: "..."

Steph: "Tim are you really willing to put on boobs for this-"

Dick: "I don't think that's the best idea-"

Jason: "You just said no prosthetics- Oh this'll be fucking rich"

Tim: "...

I...wouldn't need a boob job?? Or prosthetics?"

Jason: "Timbo, that dress is a pretty low cut, and, no offense, your training hasn't given you that many enhancements."

Tim: "...Thank you for the binding compliment?"

Dick: "The what-"

Tim: "Guys I- I already have boobs-"

The Table: "..."

Steph: "WHAT-"

Dick: "You do-?!"

Jason: "Bruce if you made Tim get boobs for some weird mission-"

Tim: "What- No! No one made me get boobs??? Besides, I don't know, biology I guess??? Genetics maybe???"

Dick: "...I'm extremely confused"

Steph: "WHO GAVE YOU BOOBS-???"

Tim: "I'm not really sure seeing as I was born with them"

Dick: "...

OHHHHHH-"

Steph: "What- is this like a birth defect or something???"

Dick: "Tim- Tim I think you're just gonna have to-"

Tim: "I'm trans."

Jason: "...That's-

Yeah

Ok yeah no that- that explains...a lot."

Steph: "..." -Head in hands- "I am such a fucking idiot"

[emilys-bangs]

The last thing you reblogged gave me an idea !

Touch starved Emily who is friends with you but would never dare ask you for unnecessary hugs etc., you two are close but she doesn’t want to cross that bridge since she definitely likes you a lot more than just a friend and also she’s scared of being so open and vulnerable that she admits she needs a hug and a cuddle.

You two are on a case once again, end up rooming together and there’s only one bed. You both don't really mind and go to sleep, each one on their respective side of the bed - except when you wake up in the middle of the night, Emily is cuddled around you, having subconsciously seeked your touch while she’s asleep.

You can decide how to go from there if this idea is any good to you, no worries if not and I hope you have a great week 😘😘

Tysm for requesting, I hope you have a great week as well! I sincerely thank that one post about touch starved Emily that made us all go insane <3

----

Midas touch | emily prentiss x reader

Tags: touch starved Emily, room sharing, bed sharing, fluff, a ridiculous amount of yearning

Word count: 2.5k

You’d have to be blind not to notice Emily’s affinity for touch.

It’s something you’ve picked up on after a mere week in the BAU, and honestly, you’ve never seen anything like it. It’s like she craves touch, physically needs the added comfort of hands wrapping around elbows, arms slung across shoulders and casual side-hugs. In the more lax confines of Rossi’s living room or o’keefe’s, it’s not unusual to see her wrapped around somebody, or at least closely sharing what’s meant to be personal space. 

At work, however, it’s different; a bit more subtle, but still palpably flowing with love—the way she sneaks behind Garcia’s chair and wraps her arms around her neck in hello, Emily’s cheek pressing against the analyst’s. How she runs her fingers through Spencer’s messy curls, and how—despite his protests—he lets her, almost imperceptibly leaning into her hand before she pulls away. Her hip is frequently attached to JJ’s, their temples touching as she slides her palm into the back pocket of JJ’s jeans. Rossi is given paternal kisses on the cheek, Morgan dragged around with his hand in hers, their fingers interlocking in a weave of pale and dark. Even Hotch gets his fair share of physical affection from her, though more subtle but no less loving; a tugging at his belt loops, a nimble fixing of his tie, the brush of her fingers along his elbow.

Everyone gets a piece of Emily’s attention. 

Everyone except you.

It upsets you in ways you can’t fully explain—at least not without admitting to yourself that you’re falling deeply and helplessly in love with her. None of it remotely makes sense; despite her very deliberately withholding her touch from you, she’s been nothing but lovely, always having your back and gently correcting you when you slip up. 

But still, when an overbooked hotel forces Hotch to relay the unfortunate news of doubling up and she turns to you, surprise renders you silent. 

“Me and you?” Emily asks, paying no mind to JJ next to her.

You speak through your dry throat, “Um—yeah, sure.”

Hotch places the key in your hand, glad to have one pair down. You dig it into the flesh of your palm.

“I’ll take that one, thank you.” Rossi plucks a key from Hotch’s hand and turns away, leisurely walking to the elevator as protests rise behind him.

Hotch shakes his head, exasperated. You almost feel sorry for him. “Morgan?” He says, looking at him. Morgan nods, which leaves JJ with Reid.

Reid looks pleased; JJ less so, but she doesn’t protest as she takes the key from Hotch.

“Aww, good luck, pretty girl.” Emily coos, cupping JJ’s cheek and tapping it playfully. Jealousy stirs in your stomach, hot and acidic as JJ shrugs off her hand with an eye roll, a small smile lifting the corners of her mouth.

The key is in your hand so you turn on your heel, a bad taste in your mouth as Reid starts to protest, the sound getting lost somewhere between Emily’s soft laughs.

She knows them longer than she knows you, you think as you take the stairs two at a time, trying to outrun the beating of your heart. Your somewhat blurry eyes pick out the door with the matching number on your key. Your legs take you to it, almost on autopilot.

“Hey, wait up,” Emily’s voice carries, reaching you in a cloud of spun silk. There’s a rush of air behind you and you feel her creeping over your shoulder, the scent of her perfume choking you sweetly. “You don’t want me to sleep in the hall, do you?”

You can’t bring yourself to rise to the teasing in her voice. Fitting the key in the lock with unsteady fingers, you mumble, “Would’a let you in if you’d knocked.”

But trying to keep your distance doesn’t work, because the one bed in the room glares at you as soon as you push the door open.

Your throat goes dry. 

Emily hovers impatiently at your back and you swallow as you take a step into the threshold of the room, wondering how the hell she’d share a bed with you when she seems reluctant to touch you in the first place.

Panicked, you take your bag and head into the bathroom before Emily can say anything, desperately needing a moment to compose yourself. It’s safe to say you spend more time in there than you usually would, lengthening your short routine to busy yourself.

Only when you’ve semi-calmed down do you go out, finding her perched on the edge of the large—king sized, at least—bed.

“Hey. Are you okay with this?” Emily’s eyes are wide and dark, shining with concern. 

There’s no place for you to sleep anyway if you said no, but somehow you get the feeling she’d make it work if you were uncomfortable. A confused rush of emotion runs hot under your skin; lingering jealousy and ever present bitterness and confusing pleasure at her concern.

God, you need to go to bed.

“I’m fine with it,” you force a smile. It must not be very convincing, because Emily frowns, a delicate pull drawing her brows together. Just before she says something, you speak. “Are you okay with it?”

That snaps her out of it. “Yeah,” Emily murmurs, a dimple winking at you as she gives you a small smile, “as long as you don’t kick.”

You didn’t expect her to agree so easily. Some part of you wonders if she’s lying, but you can’t look at her eyes long enough to decipher that—you’re mildly afraid if you sunk into their depths you’d never be able to claw your way out.

“I haven’t had any complaints,” you try to shrug casually. “Do you prefer a side?”

“No, go ahead. It doesn’t matter what side I sleep on, I always somehow find my way in the middle.”

That makes you crack a smile.

The bathroom door clicks shut behind her and you press your knuckles into your eyes, wondering if you can possibly get through this night without losing your already delicate composure.

It’s just a bed, you tell yourself as you take out a pair of sweatpants to serve as pajamas. And it’s just for one night. It’s fine.

It’s fine. Sure it is.

You’re already in bed and beneath the sheets when Emily walks out of the bathroom. It’s a mistake to look at her, because you think you’ve just fallen deeper in love.

She’s shaking her hair out from the confines of its ponytail and it falls in soft waves around her shoulders, curling at the ends where the water sprayed it. A cotton tank top gently hugs her body, and pale blue shorts skim the tops of her thighs.

She’s not wearing a bra.

You’re staring.

“Sorry, I wasn’t expecting to share tonight,” Emily smiles sheepishly as she lifts the covers and climbs into the bed. A lump is lodged in your throat at the sight of her bare legs slipping through the sheets, shimmering softly from her lotion. It smells sweet, she smells sweet—like warm cocoa butter—and it takes everything in you not to inhale deeply like a creep.

“Neither was I.” You croak. Emily settles her head on her pillow and you try not to stare at her lashes, so naturally long and thick even without her usual mascara.

She’s literally going to be the death of you.

“G’night,” you mumble and turn away before she can answer. The heat in your cheeks burns, and you dig them into the pillow in hopes of cooling them down.

“Night,” Emily whispers back. The sheets rustle as she presumably turns, too.

Needless to say, it takes a while for you to fall asleep. 

It must happen at some point, though, because something wakes you. You open your eyes to the darkness of the room, unsure what it is. You just know that you’re abnormally warm and trapped beneath something smelling like cocoa butter.

Emily.

Your sluggish brain slowly puts the pieces together. Her arm is around your neck, cutting across your chest; her thigh is hitched over your hip. Cold fingertips are hooked into the collar of your t-shirt and you shiver despite the warmth of your own body. Slow breaths puff across your neck, warm and even.

Briefly, you think you’re dreaming, but just as quickly that thought dissipates. She’s too real, too warm—and anyway your imagination could never come up with something as divine as this.

You’re not completely innocent either. Your arm is hooked around her waist, your skin directly touching the warm skin of her waist. Her tank top has risen up and your blurry eyes catch a tattoo on her hipbone; a faded butterfly.

You should let her go. 

It’s an internal battle, because she fits there, perfectly, and even though you know it’s wrong, you close your eyes and continue holding her. 

It’s wrong, it’s so wrong. She doesn’t want your touch. She’s made that perfectly clear, but her warm body, the soft tickle of her hair, they cloud your senses, fog your brain and hide all traces of reason or sensibility.

But still, half asleep or not, you can’t betray her trust like this.

You’re just about to force yourself to let go when Emily snuggles closer, a long sigh escaping through her nose. Her lashes tickle your skin, wispy and light across your neck as she nestles into your collarbone.

Fuck.

You hold still and wait for her to move again. She doesn’t, other than the steady rise and fall of her chest, so you close your eyes too. You would’ve thought it would be difficult to fall asleep with almost every inch of her body touching every inch of yours, but you’re encompassed in warmth and softness and the scent of cocoa butter. 

Really, it only takes a minute before you’re asleep again.

———

She’s still in your arms when you wake up. Your alarm didn’t ring yet—it must’ve been a combination of Emily’s warmth and your internal clock that woke you up.

Her head is now on your pillow, one of her knees slotted between yours and her arm around your waist. She’s like a clingy koala, even in her sleep, and it only makes your heart ache.

Through the blurriness in your vision you see the small freckles that dot her cheeks. They’re tiny, almost unnoticeable, scattered over the bridge of her nose and under her swooping lashes. Her fingers tighten in your shirt and again the guilt surfaces, but it’s so slow to rise in the pale morning light, when you’re sluggish with sleep.

Emily’s eyes flutter open. 

Shit, you freeze, your muscles stiffening. 

You’re caught.

Suddenly you’re staring into dark chips of obsidian, clouds of sleep swirling through them. At first Emily gives no reaction, but then her brain evidently catches up and her eyes widen, her fingers letting go of your shirt.

Just before you apologize, she does.

“I’m sorry,” she blurts. Her voice is raspy and you fight the shiver before it travels down your spine. “I get really—”

“Clingy,” you mumble. “Yeah, I know. It’s obvious.” Your voice is soft, mainly because you’re too tired to fight with your own demons so early in the morning.

“I’m really sorry,” Emily whispers again, mortified. Her cheeks flush a pretty pink as she retracts her arm and her leg, curling back into her side of the bed. The sheets she leaves behind are warm, and you fight the urge to place your hand where she once was.

“S’okay. You do it with everyone, I know that.” Then, because it’s the morning and your brain is half asleep and still fogged from holding her, you ask, “Why not with me, though?”

Her teeth chew down on her lip. “Why not you, what?” She mumbles.

“Emily,” you sigh, “it’s too early for you to mess with my head. You know what.”

Emily gives a sigh of her own. She doesn’t look at you as she fiddles with the hem of her tank top and drags it back down, hiding the exposed sliver of her torso. It doesn’t help that your eyes follow her movements, because her shorts have ridden up her thighs.

“It means…more when it’s you.” She eventually says, her voice quiet. Your breath hitches and she continues looking down, frowning at the hem of her tank top. “Everything does. Can’t touch you like that and pretend it means nothing.”

The slight slur to her voice makes her confession all the more intimate. As does her bed head, the red sleep lines on the underside of her arm. This is a soft Emily, a vulnerable one, and she’s laying herself bare for you in the morning light while sleep still lingers in both your eyes.

It only confirms your love for her.

Your relief is palpable; it quickly shifts to affection, something flowery crowding the back of your throat and making it hard to swallow. She doesn’t hate you, she doesn’t think you’re disgusting or repulsive. 

She couldn’t touch you because it would give her away. Because it’s the most genuine aspect of her, one she can’t dampen or hide any more than she can stop her heart from beating.

It seems almost too big a revelation for this small hotel room bathed in morning light. Still, your hand reaches for hers. You wrap your fingers around her own, both of them now resting gently on her stomach.

“It doesn’t have to mean nothing.” You whisper.

Emily’s eyes snap to yours. They’re like the black, bitter coffee you have no choice but knock back in precincts all over the country. They make your heart race, because they come closer—she comes closer—until both your heads are resting on the same pillow again. Emily cups your joint hands with her free one, reverently protecting the tenderness of your touch.

“You’re…” Her breath hitches and she falters, then sucks in a breath, “You’re telling me you want this?”

You squeeze her fingers. “More than anything.”

Emily blows out a low sigh. You bring your free hand up to trace the curve of her brow; she leans into it. “I do, too.” She confesses. “More than anything.”

Your thumb travels down to the corner of her mouth. “Then there’s nothing stopping us. Is there?” You ask gently.

“No.” Emily sighs. “Nothing.”

She tilts her head, lets you continue exploring her face with your fingertips. Her features are gently traced; the bridge of her nose and the outline of her lips and the shape of her brows. Slowly, her knee worms its way between both of yours.

You smile and Emily smiles back, a shy dimple in her cheek. 

“Be clingy. With me,” you murmur, keeping your voice low because you’re afraid love already spills from it, “I want you to be.”

Her nose nuzzles into your cheek. “You’ll soon regret saying that.” Emily mumbles, the vibration of her voice reverberating through your skin. It fills you with strange peace.

“Never.” You whisper.

Until the alarm rings, the two of you spend your time erasing away the boundaries, learning the lines of each other’s bodies with your fingertips with slow confidence.

Because now, you have all the time in the world.

taglist: @suckerforcate @sickoherd @lextism

[somerandomdudelmao]

I mean this as the highest compliment but I, too, have a story about aliens and humans with a scarily similar plot to marble skies lol.

I swear it's not plagiarism, I've been working on this story for years. And I, for one, am thrilled to have found someone with a similar idea!

I'd even love to draw my aliens alongside yours if you're okay with me doing so.

Oh, you don't even have to start worrying about plagiarism. I don't claim to be the founder of all these tropes. I think every plot in this story is already exists somewhere but who cares. I'm just here to have fun and bring my take that's all:D

Like. Bread was invented a long time ago and people still make it in so many different ways. Even if the concept is similar, your bread will be different from mine because you are the one who made it. Is this analogy weird? It's midnight idk haha

And I'd be absolutely delighted if you drew them fojgjfeiwo

[mrrharper]

Masked Muscle

“Okay, now put it on” Chris threw the balaclava and the black t-shirt towards his boyfriend Jake, who was sitting on their bed.

“You’re sure about this?” He was clearly not sold on the idea of role play in the bedroom, but he agreed to do it anyway. He was surprised when Chris approached him earlier that day and asked if he’d be willing to dress up as a Russian thug because it really turned him on. But he decided to play along. And now Chris was standing next to him, a shit-eating grin on his face. He was enjoying himself already.

He watched as Jake took off his hoodie and tank top, then put on the t-shirt and face mask. Jake had a slim build, with muscles visible but not bulky, so the large t-shirt was looking kinda baggy on him.

"You sure you bought the right one? This looks like a skirt on me." Jake commented, but Chris wasn't really listening.

"Everything's fine, don't worry about it." He shrugged off his boyfriend's comments and waited for him to put on the balaclava. When he did he took a step closer.

"You look great, babe" He said, and saw Jake's eyebrows rise a bit, but he saw a glimpse of a smile under the face mask.

Then the fun started.

Chris took a step backward, as he saw that the process was beginning. Jake suddenly stopped moving, now standing still, and all his muscles started expanding. His shoulders and chest quickly filled out thew t-shirt, which now hugged his upper body tightly. His arms turned form sticks to beefy guns, with bulky biceps covered in veins. His slim stomach gets covered in muscle, same with his legs that turned into tree trunks.

The entire transformation lasted only a minute or so, and after was done Jake looked at Chris confused.

"Chris... Chris, babe, what... what happened?" He asked, his voice unsteady and anxious.

"Nothing you have to worry about, Jake. I'm just making sure you're prepared for your 'role play' later" He still has a smug smirk on his face, because he knew what was coming next.

Jake was hit with a sudden headache. A painful feeling, as if his brain was squeezed. He groaned and leaned against the wall, hoping it would pass quickly.

"Holy shit... uuuugh... blyat" he murmured to himself "Wait... blyat? Vat? I no speak... Nyet, vat is happen? Chris, vat is happen to me?"

Jake, now speaking with a heavy and thick Russian accent, turned towards Chris, his expression quickly shifting from surprise to aggression. But Chris didn't even flinch, he was in control of the situation the entire time.

"Stop whining, Sasha. You're not here to complain, you're here to obey!" When he called him 'Sasha', Jake's eyes glazed over for a moment and he froze. A few seconds later he was back, but it was not Jake.

"Da, boss. Sasha here to work and make dirty job for boss" He stood straight, almost like a soldier, and puffed out his chest, clearly wanting to show off his muscles. Chris was in heaven. He took a step closer.

"Yes, my loyal brute. You will do exactly as I say, without hesitation."

"Da, no hesitation, nyet. Only strong and obey you, boss" Sasha's voice was deeper that Jake's, he grunted more and was clearly struggling with English vocabulary.

"Oh yeah" Chris growled as he stood inches from Sasha, hunger in his eyes. "Flex for me, brute"

"Da, boss" Sasha nodded and lifted his arms into a double biceps pose. His muscles ballooned, with biceps the size of footballs.

"I strong muscle, boss use Sasha strong muscle" The Russian grunted as he flexed.

"Oh, I will use them, don't you worry" Chris drawled in response, ready to play.

[just-a-ghost00]

Celeb series : what do you and your bias have in common ?

Pick one of the following emojis : 1🦋 2🌷 3🌈 Warning : this reading might be triggering.

Group 1 🦋 Like a butterfly ~

3 of swords, the Empress, 9 of pentacles, 8 of cups, 4 of pentacles

You and your bias might have both struggled with depression, anxiety and such. You both know the feeling of being alone no matter how much you try, no matter how kind you are to others. The feeling of not being recognized for who you are, not feeling like you belong on this Earth. You are both very independant people that strive to feel good in their own shoes and find people that match their vibe. You just want to be you and not be judged for that. You may both have had to cut ties with things and people because you didn't feel valued or supported enough in those situations. You both had your heart broken by people whom you trusted, people that were close to you and pretended they loved you. You both are succesful when it comes to your career but your love life isn't doing well. You are both very beautiful/handsome. You both tend to be lone wolves and have a hard time connecting with people. You may both be introvert types. Your past has lead both of you to hide your vulnerabilities and sensitivity to protect yourselves. Both of you are very private people, you don't share a lot of information about your life. You don't share your resources or ideas, your time and energy because you know people tend to abuse you if you do. You may both be a bit possessive and/or jealous. You have a hard time trusting people but once you do you have a hard time letting go. You easily get attached which is why you keep your guards up most of the time. Both of you fear rejection and intimacy.

Group 2 🌷 Hey you wanna come in?

9 of swords, page of swords, Temperance, 6 of swords, ace of wands

You are very passionate people. Your minds are sharp. So sharp that they tend to hurt you more than they help. Both of you are overthinkers. Both of you may have struggled with mental health issues. Both of you have a very vivid imagination. Your minds tend to go all over the place and shift from one idea to the next effortlessly. You are the type of people that loves to chat with others, that always has a smart comment in store, a little joke, a witty word play. You love studying, you love creating. You constantly need to be doing something otherwise your mind gets the best of you. Both of you are restless and have a hard time settling down. It's like you're constantly in flight or fight mode. You both are bold and also a bit rash in making decisions. You may be impulsive and have a hard time dealing with frustration or anger. Maybe you struggle with things such as ADHD. Both of you aspire for peace and quiet. Both of you like to be mentally stimulated and challenged. Both of you love to have fun without having to worry about the consequences. You may both have grown up in a strict household and now you are freeing yourself from the restraints that were put on you, which explains the reckless energy I am getting from this group. Both of you strive for freedom and excitement. Both of you can be pretty horny lmao I wouldn't be surprised if your bias was a rapper. I'm getting ambivert vibes from this group.

Group 3 🌈 Topline !

10 of swords, King of pentacles, Hierophant, 10 of wands, 5 of cups

You and your bias have a lot on your plate that you tend to keep hidden. You repress your emotions to protect others. Both of you may hold an important position and have to deal with a lot of responsibilities. Both of you are very faithful people. You may both believe in God or at least a higher power being responsible of this Universe. I'm getting burnout energy from this group. Both of you are so exhausted that you don't even have the energy to care anymore. You just do your job and do your best not to collapse. It is hard for both of you to enjoy what you are doing because you have overextended yourself so much so that you don't have much left to give. Both of you are very ambitious people, people of principles and rules that want things in life to be fair for everyone. Justice matters a lot to you. Faithfulness matters a lot to you. You tend to be very harsh on yourself. You expect a lot from others and often times end up being disappointed. You have a hard time getting along with people because of that. It takes a lot to understand you but it also takes a lot for you to understand people. Societal constructs and cues may not be your thing. You may be used to being alone so much so that being with others is a nightmare. I'm picking up on single parents, single children, people that were separated from their family at a very young age. You are very succesful in life which came with a lot of sacrifices and you would never let anyone ruin that. You take a lot of pride in who you became, no matter how much of a mess your life may be, because you know what it took you to get their and how much worse it could have been. Your bias is in a similar energy and mindset. Both of you have a good heart and are absolutely amazing people but I feel like life and people have turned you sour.

[crabsnpersimmons]

What if y/n from have you eaten? Au had eating disorders?

oou! good question!

yes! that is definitely a scenario i would like to explore in the fic when i get to it. also why i want to write the fic with multiple different Y/Ns so we can explore different experiences and relationships with food

there is a "main Y/N" who is a glutton who likes to try anything and everything. i haven't done the research for it so i can't say whether or not they have an eating disorder, but they DO have an unhealthy relationship with food as a result of being shamed for their appetite. so that, coupled with their job that emphasizes appearances and first impressions, they eat smaller meals, seemingly healthier meals, safe meals. but when they're alone at the restaurant with the DCA boys, without having to worry about who sees them or how much they eat, they're able to enjoy their food openly and honour their body's cravings.

[sayhoneysiren]

Which 48th Law of Power, should you apply to your situation for success?

{Collab with @lavendergoddesstarot}

Pile 1 is on the left side. Pile 2 is on the right side.

Welcome Sirens! This reading is for entertainment purposes only based on the downloads I receive. Do not attack me if the message doesn’t resonate. Keep in mind this is a collective reading, not a individual one. With that being said, enjoy!

Honey $iren🍒

>Join for weekly Tarot Readings here<

⸻⊱༺  🩸 ༻⊰⸻

Pile I

(1st part of your reading here)

When it come to success, you may have the habit of oversharing your ideas with others. Spirit is saying, learn to keep your goals private. You have ideas that are absolutely GOLDEN, but unfortunately, there are bitter and jealous people around you, who want to sink your boat. Your success is a threat to them and when you yap to them about all your ideas, you give them your blueprint to destroy you. The Wheel of Fortune came out for you last, which shows me that when you learn to reserve your ideas or share only fractions of information, luck will be on your side and the wheels will turn in your favor.

~ LAW 24 - PLAY THE PERFECT COURTIER ~

(The numbers 24, 2, 4, or 6. may be significant to you. It could be your birth date number, current age or a significant number to you).

Quote from the book 48 Laws of Power, "The perfect courtier thrives in a world where everything revolves around power and political dexterity. He has mastered the art of indirection; he flatters, yields to superiors, and asserts power over others in the most oblique and graceful manner. Learn to apply the law of courtier-ship and there will be no limit to how far you can rise in the court." - Robert Greene

There's an old saying coming to mind, "Never let anyone see you with your head to the ground." We all have weaknesses and our weaknesses should always be kept to ourselves, until we overcome them. The message for you is to Master you Emotions. Handle your messy business privately. Don’t rant to people about your problems, even if they’re friends. Show a professional, strong face to the world, even when you feel worried. Stay motivated on the end goal, even when you feel defeated.

You may also have difficulties with wanting to prove yourself as worthy or intelligent to others (which causes you to debate, argue, overshare or overextend yourself). Learn to hold back. There's no need to cast your pearls to swine.

ADVICE

Master your emotions. Don't allow insults and threats to pierce you.

Find creative outlets to release your energy into. (If you’re a writer, write to release your thoughts and feelings or to creative stories.)

Learn social protocol, discreetness and etiquette with others.

Trust no one.

Let your actions and results speak louder than the need to prove people wrong or right.

⸻⊱༺  🩸 ༻⊰⸻

Pile II

(1st part of your reading here).

There was something said to you, that made you feel insecure about your self image or your abilities to succeed. You are hanging on to this, and because of this you are not allowing yourself to move forwards and become your greatest. For many of you, it was a person close to you, that you deeply trusted, who hurt you with their words or actions. Here’s what to do. Cry about it, journal about it, meditate on it, THEN LET IT GO. (And if it's better, let them go too).

Your value is never determined by anyone else, it is determined by you. To become your successful self, own all that you are, in body, spirit, emotion and mentality. You are not a mistake. Don’t be fooled by the people who cannot see your value yet.

You are a very grounded and practical person, who holds immense wisdom within'. Your intuitive powers are off the charts! 

These toxic people around you, don't see your power or how your ideas can come into fruition but don't let that stop you from carrying on. You have the ability to manifest like a God or Goddess on Earth and you will be a wealthy person very soon.

LAW 28 - ENTER ACTION WITH BOLDNESS

(The numbers 28, 0, 1, 2, 8, or 10. may be significant to you. It could be your birth date number, current age or a significant number to you).

Quote from the book 48 Laws of Power, "If you are unsure of a course of action, do not attempt it. Your doubts and hesitations will infect your execution. Timidity is dangerous. Better to enter with boldness. Any mistakes you commit through audacity are easily corrected with more audacity. Everyone admirers the bold; no one honors the timid. - Robert Greene

Don't be the victim, be the successor. Push through all negativity until you are successful. Learn to stand up for yourself with boldness and walk your path audaciously. When you speak, speak with firmness and a assured tone. When you have ideas, create and pursue them with confidence. The cards are telling you, that your ideas are brilliant and that they are going to be greatly received by the world (fame is highly likely for you), so don’t feel insecure about yourself. Just trust the process.

ADVICE

Learn not to take criticism personally.

Work on your self value and self esteem.

Work with the Lion totem or the Goddess SEKHMET to be more courageous.

Cut toxic people out of your life.

Create boundaries and stand up for yourself.

Do Solar Plexus practices. Sunbathe. Get an Aura Reading.

[polarisjisung]

LOVE ON THE COURT | 20 ... WITH BENEFITS??

SYNOPSIS | every college student has their struggles, but raising her younger brother has Y/N top of the list, struggling her way through college whilst balancing her academics and basketball captaincy is difficult no doubt and with Jaemin, her ex best friend and captain of the guys basketball team, and his growing one sided hatred towards her, it doesn't seem to be getting any easier

WARNINGS | swearing, sexual innuendos, kys/kms jokes, y/n has daddy issues for the sake of the plot

NOTES | I have no idea why this update took me so long to post I'm so sorry 😭 I don't like making chapters like this too sad (don't worry there's still gonna be some angsty chapters) but I don't want the written stuff on its own bcs that feels too espresso depresso or wtv the phrase is so this is a bit of a longer chap than usual.. anyways if ever you feel bad for y/n, don't worry you're gonna feel worse

19:21, dinner the night before

Y/n shuffles in her seat.

Jaemin greets her with a smile, and though she offers one back, that sinking feeling in her stomach doesn't seem to settle.

Suddenly now that she finds herself face to face with her once best friend, no menus in hand since they'd already given their orders, no way to avoid conversation for just a couple seconds longer, Y/n finds herself at a loss for words.

What was anyone supposed to say in this situation?

Sure a thank you would be ideal, considering Jaemin had somehow managed the impossible, but the words escaped her. Like they rested at the tip of her tongue but she lacked the drive to speak them.

It's not that y/n wasn't grateful, no, she wouldn't be here if she wasn't, in fact she didn't know what it was, what confused her so deeply that she sat there silently. Her thumbs twiddling against one another, as she stared down at the table in front of her.

There was a nagging whisper in her mind, one that cast shadows over her once clear thoughts, leaving her in that haze of uncertainty that she recognised all too well. Recently it was all she could feel around the captain.

Something about this situation in particular makes her palms sweaty and the hairs stand on her neck, every glance at Jaemin feeling like a shadow of what had once been, a reminder of how it had all been lost.

Even just sitting opposite Jaemin isn't simple.

Not at all.

It's like sitting across from a mirror that once reflected shared laughter and secrets, now distorted by fractures of lost trust and unspoken words. She supposed that was the thing about mirrors and shattering. No matter how hard you tried to glue the pieces back together, it would never quite be the same.

Perhaps that's why y/n is lousy in her attempts, grateful to Jaemin but unbothered to express it. The thought that no matter how desperately she hoped, this couldn't be restored. That there was no point in pouring energy into a friendship that would never be resolved.

"So" it's undoubtedly jaemin who breaks the silence, a soft tone to his voice, not quite as gentle as the other night but still warm "are you feeling better? like really okay?"

For a moment she wonders whether she'll break at the sound of his voice like she always had. Would she go back to that point in life where it was so easy to lie, so easy to say she was okay, so easy to pretend, in front of everyone else but never in front of him.

"I'm fine, honestly." She lies.

There's a shy sheepish smile that creeps across her lips and slightly accents her words

Jaemin hasn't seen much of her positivity be directed his way, and seeing this ignites the little hope in him that they could move on from this, from everything.

"You didn't have to work on it without me you know, it was just as much my project as it was yours and you putting in all the effort isn't fair on you."

"You did most of the preliminary stuff anyways, and I really didn't want to ask you because of the other night" Jaemin finally admits, though not willingly, his words extracted more so by her sharp stare and the cold atmosphere.

"Right..." Her attempts at changing the subject, clearly in vain— he really needed to stop asking about the other night. Y/n wasn't sure how much h longer she could hold back the tears, the looming feeling of inadequacy as a guardian still strong. She should have been more careful.

She knows its her turn to speak, opening her mouth to do so.

But again, y/n struggles.

The words play hide and seek in her mind, leaving her to grasp at empty. The atmosphere grows heavy with the weight of unspoken words. Her mind races, a jumble of what to say, thoughts of how easy conversation once was, how effortless it had been, all such a stark contrast to now.

Jaemin watches, a mix of intrigue and concern in his eyes as she contemplates in front of him, quiet but with an expression that spoke volumes.

The silence between them seems to bite louder than any conversation they once held, each dish in front, a reminder of the bitter aftertaste of a friendship turned cold.

"It's just Minjun and I" she breathes out, voice shaky, and Jaemin realises that those nervous cues in her slumped posture and shaking hands had never changed "It's just been the two of us for a while" she whispered. "That's why I was so scared"

Jaemin's hand hovers uncertainly beneath the table, unsure if the gesture would be welcomed or misunderstood, caught in the delicate balance of care and concern.

Admittedly, Jaemin catches himself slightly intrigued, still confused what could have lead to her practically perfectly family turning into this.

But he knows better than to let his curiosity get the best of him.

He wants to stop her, tell her that whatever it is that causes her brows to knit together and her pretty eyes to gloss over isn't something she needs to force herself to talk about, but he doesn't know how.

For a moment he's kicking himself under the table— how had he ever let go of the person who meant so much to him?

Even now, knowing everything she had done, he couldnt help but question why hadn't he tried to get past it then?

At the sight of her downcast features suddenly everything that he once despised her for seemed so trivial.

Jaemin sees himself, a younger, less mature version that stands on the court, hair matted to his forehead from the rain, a ball long forgotten somewhere behind him, cold, betrayed, and so painfully alone. Those burning tear stained cheeks, the harsh whistles of wind, the bitter feeling of failure still clinging to his skin, he remembers it all.

But every feeling he recalls so well, so vividly, is so easily dismissed when her eyes shine with a painful tint, red from the piercing tears that she holds in them.

"My dad" she cuts him off, gaze now avoidant as he grabbed her cold hands in his, "he walked out on us not long after ...whatever hapenned between you and me. He never came back, didn't answer a single call, not even a text, no form of communication except the papers he sent in the mail so I could become Junnie's legal guardian."

I missed you, she wanted to say. I needed you she'd liked to add.

"That's why it's just the two of us now" she said instead, trying to find more words to stop the tears from flowing, like her words were the only thing that could hold them back.

Back then, Y/n remembers vividly the feeling of wanting to fall, to sink, to drown but still somehow keeping her head above the surface to hold on and stay strong for her younger brother. She wondered if Jaemin had been there, would it have been easier? Would she have let herself fall, would she have someone to give her a hand, to pick her back up again and hold her hand through it all? Would things have ended differently?

"I'm sorry" his words weren't new, they weren't special, they were the same as what everybody else would say but the fact that they came from him, Na Jaemin who now stood by her side with his arms wrapped around her, was enough to dissolve the feeling of emptiness.

08:25 present time

Y/n looks over at Minjun, still deep in slumber, smiling before she steps out of the room.

There's way too many toys sprawled out across the living room floor, a blanket she finds herself folding as she subconsciously begins to clean up. Her eyes land on the kitchen counter, wondering what to make for breakfast. She was never particularly good at cooking, but she'd been learning for her brothers sake.

When she gets to the black jacket resting over the couch, it hits her. She catches sight of her puffy eyes in the mirror, and a hand runs through her hair hurriedly.

"Why the fuck did I tell him all of that" she let's out a frustrated sigh, running her hands across her face, "I'm supposed to hate him" she reminds herself, though her tone isn't convincing in the slightest.

"You don't hate him though" Heeseung's voice comes out muffled, the toothbrush between his lips making it difficult to understand his words.

He had been the one to stay over last night, her friends still taking turns to accompany Minjun and her every night since he'd walked out of the apartment, a gesture that made her heart swell. Although up until now she was pretty certain he was still asleep. Clearly not.

"I can't hate him" she sighs, falling back into the couch "is it bad I want to be friends with him again?" she asks, even though Heeseung had retreated to the bathroom to finish brushing his teeth.

Regardless he pokes his head out into the hallway, a sly smirk across his lips "with benefits?"

Y/n rolls her eyes.

He emerges again not long after, smiling from ear to ear "no y/n it's not bad if you want to be friends again" he takes a seat beside her "you can only fight your feelings for so long, let yourself be vulnerable, take the risk and try again" he says, hands resting on both his knees.

"and if you're feeling really risky, you can always—"

"shut up Heeseung" she smiles, lightly pushing against his arm "I guess it is worth a shot though"

"he's right next door anyways so sneaking around won't be hard at all"

"I meant being friends. Just friends." she stands up, walking over to the kitchen "you down for pancakes?"

He nods.

"You know it could be good though, he's hot, you're hot, there's enough tension to make things interesting and it ticks your not ready for a relationship box pretty well too"

Despite the pointed look the captain offers him, Heeseung doesn't let up, and secretly, she wouldn't have it any other way.

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[nknoxe-n]

ᴺᴼᵂ ᴾᴸᴬᵞᴵᴺᴳ : Babydoll ​— ​🇩​​🇴​​🇲​​🇮​​🇳​​🇮​​🇨​ ​🇫​​🇮​​🇰​​🇪​

Synopsis: They hear there are rumours of you two dating?

Warnings: [pre established friendship]

w.c 700

Isagi Yoichi: He is initially shocked when he hears about the rumour, I mean who wouldn't be? He and his close friend, dating? He immediately clears the air because he doesn't want anyone to think he's going along with the rumour, and tries to be respectful about it either way. The rest of the day he's a bit of a mess though, did he do something to make people think that you two were dating? Was he coming off as a creepy friend? Isagi will approach you awkwardly later on, wanting to clarify things, but also secretly hoping to gauge your feelings. He'd be hoping for some clarity, even if it's just to clear up his own feelings.

Bachira Meguru: Bachira would find the rumour hilarious. He'd laugh it off initially, playfully teasing you about it. He'd start acting extra affectionate towards you, leaning into the fake dating rumour just to see how others would react. He'd constantly tease you by calling you cute nicknames in public or platonically holding your hand. Bachira would likely lean into the rumour just for fun, using it as an excuse to be more playful and close. "Since everyone thinks we're dating, we should act the part, right?" His teasing would have no genuine romantic interest, though, just because he doesn't want to risk your friendship.

Nagi Seishiro: He's not surprised one bit, he'll make a few comments on it to Reo kind of asking for advice without directly asking, believe it or not there was a long-winded rumour that he and Reo were dating so that's why he's not very fazed. "So, people think we're dating. What do you think about that?" He says it so casually that it catches you off guard. He wants to know how you feel about it of course, if it makes you uncomfortable he could always ask Reo to clear things up because he can't be bothered but if you don't mind it not much will change, and you might notice him sitting closer to you more often and sharing his sweets.

Chigiri Hyoma: He HATES baseless gossip or drama, he doesn't think you two have been acting like a couple at all, at least not enough for people to assume so. Chigiri loves to gossip, but something like this was tacky for his taste and not really his niche of drama. He would definitely sit down with you and have a private discussion, he expresses how the rumour annoys him, but he mainly wants to make sure you're okay (:

Kunigami Rensuke: Kunigami would deny the rumour without a doubt no matter when or where, not because he dislikes the idea of being with you, but because he likes what you two have and doesn't want you to feel weird in your friendship with him. He would be confused and slightly embarrassed by the rumour. Kunigami values honesty, like I said, so he’d be uncomfortable with people thinking he’s in a relationship when he’s not.

Itoshi Rin: He’d be colder towards you in public to try and kill the rumour, but this only makes people gossip more about how he's being 'tsundere.' Internally, though, he's conflicted and irritated with himself for even caring in the first place when he should be focused on soccer. Rin would ignore the rumour and act like it doesn't exist, hoping it will die down on its own. He'd continue treating you the same way, cold and blunt in front of others, but a bit softer when it's just the two of you. If you seem worried about it, he will begrudgingly tell you "don't worry about it, people are idiots"

Shidou Ryusei: Shidou would find the rumour amusing and wouldn't hesitate to stir the pot of gossip even more. "Oh? We're dating now? Why didn't you tell me, babe?" he'd say with a cheeky grin every single time someone asks. However, if he sees that the rumour genuinely bothers you, he'd surprisingly tone down his antics. Despite his erratic and chaotic personality, he doesn't actually want to make you uncomfortable. In a rare moment of seriousness, he’d ask if you’re okay with everything and, depending on your answer, decide how to proceed, but if you say it's fine expect him to buy into the rumours even more, he'd probably even end up jumping someone for you.

[dragon-kazansky]

The song in our hearts

Lestat De Lioncourt x Female Reader

A musician with a heart that sings and an admirer who wishes to see his songbird thrive. Two beings in different worlds get caught up in each other when someone threatens to steal his songbird's spotlight. Loving Lestat isn't simple, and your life will never be the same again. What is eternity without chaos?

{Masterlist}

{Previous Chapter} - {Next Chapter}

Chapter Seven - Eleanor

You aren't seen by Amelie all week. The first glimpse she gets of you is at the theater that following Friday. You hadn't told her you had spent almost every night in Lestat's home. That would definitely give her ideas, and you didn't need that right now.

She follows you into your dressing room. You take a seat at your table and look at your reflection. You're looking a little paler than before.

“Are you alright?” Amelie asks softly. She could tell she was worried about you. “I went to your house a couple times, you weren't there.”

You turn and look at her. “I've been… busy.”

Amelie comes closer and takes your hand in hers. “Busy?”

“I've just got a lot going on.”

She presses her hand to your forehead. “You look a little off, but you don't seem to have a temperature. Do you need anything? Water? Food? To rest a little?”

You shake your head. “No. I'm okay.”

“If you're sure…” Amelie doesn't look convinced. She steps away and takes her leave.

You slump agaiant your dressing table and sigh, fingers digging into your hair. All week you have been sneaking off to Lestat's to simply be with him. To let him taste you. To let him hold you.

God, the way his arms felt around you was a dream. You wanted nothing more than that in life. Well, there was perhaps more you could want to do with him. He certainly knew as much.

‘Are you alright, Chéri?’ 

His voice is in your head. He seems to know every thought and feeling you have. You find you don't mind quite as much. 

‘You're thinking a lot. Don't worry, mon amour.’

My love. That was the first time he had called you that.

A knock at your door makes you jump and turn around to see who it was. “Come in.”

The door opens and Jack enters. You offer him a smile and he smiles in return. “Amelie looked worried. Are you okay?” He asks.

“I assure you, I am well.”

‘More than well.’

You ignore Lestat in your mind.

“No one has seen or heard anything from you all week.”

‘I have certainly heard you.’

“No. I'm sorry. I've been busy. I'm still here though.” You smile again.

“Good. You're my best performer. You and that piano are my stars.”

‘The brightest star I have ever seen.’

You smile, but who you're smiling from is the question. You know who.

“I'll let you get ready.” Jack leaves you alone to prepare. 

You look at yourself in the mirror and stare hard at your reflection. You smile at yourself.

The magician on stage takes a bow, and people applaud. Lestat watches with disinterest. He doesn't care for anyone else in this show. He wants to see his shining star. His darling. His music maker.

The stage clears and the lights turn to the manager, Jack. He babbles for a little while and then addresses the crowd with open arms. Lestat leans forward in his seat, a proud grin on his lips.

Your name is announced.

The curtain open to reveal your piano in place and as Jack exists the stage, you come on. Lestat can't teat his eyes away from you. You're wearing a gorgeous gown and around your neck is that ruby red necklace he gave you months ago.

Your eyes find his own and he winks at you from his box. You're gorgeous.

You take a bow and sit down at your piano. A few moments of silence fill the room before you fill the air with your beautiful music. You're playing his song again. Lestat smiles. If this was a declaration, he was listening.

Everyone in the room was hanging on to every note. You had them completely wrapped up in your magic. You were the siren and they were the sailors.

You played for the next half hour. You enchanted every soul in the room.

Lestat had fallen even more for you.

When your time was done you took a bow and left the stage. Lestat, as usual, leaves his box. He's waiting for you at your dressing room before anyone else. You smile as he reaches out and caresses your cheek gently with his fingers. His touch is ghostly, so light you could barely feel it.

As Lestat leans in, almost as if to kiss you, you're both interrupted by a voice. You both turn to see a young woman, mid twenties at least, looking at you.

“Excuse me, I don't suppose you know where Noah is? I didn't see him in the show tonight and I wanted to speak to him.”

You feel yourself go stiff. Lestat grabs your arm gently and smiles at the woman. “Who is asking?”

“My name is Eleanor. I'm Noah's sister. I wrote to him to tell him I was coming to see him perform, but I didn't get a response, at least not one that arrived in time.” She shuffles on the spot slightly. “I was disappointed to see he was not on stage tonight. Don't suppose you know where he's staying?”

You turn your eyes to Lestat for help. What were you supposed to say? ‘Oh gosh, we're so sorry, you see, your brother was being an ass and Lestat decided to feed on him until he was dead.’

Yeah, that would go down well.

“Did you not hear? He left,” Lestat tells her.

The woman visibly deflates. “He did? No, I hadn't heard.”

Lestat keeps his hand on your arm to keep you calm. “Perhaps his letter had yet to reach you.”

“Possibly,” she sighs.

Lestat feels you grabbing at the sleeve and puts on a polite expression for Eleanor. “If you don't mind, we are just leaving.”

She looks between you both and steps back, getting the message. “Of course. Forgive me. I better contact home and see if Noah got through. Thank you kindly, both of you.”

Lestat takes your hand and guides you past the young woman. You're holding onto him tight. He can feel your panic just from the touch of your hand.

Once you're out of the theater you drag him into the alley nearby. 

“Shit, Shit, Shit!” You hiss out. “What are we gonna do?”

“Nothing,” he replies nonchalantly. 

“Nothing?” You stare at him in disbelief. “You killed her brother and she's looking for him!”

Lestat shrugs. “So? She'll never find him. I disposed of the body.”

“Oh my God!”

“He can't help you.”

You glare at the vampire. “This isn't funny! I'm the last person Noah went to see. No one knows you were involved!”

“Calm, Chéri. All will be well. No harm shall come to you.” He holds your face in his cold hands.

“Lestat…”

“Shh. If you keep on worrying you'll get wrinkles.” He taps your nose with his finger. “Do you want that?”

“Stop messing around.” You wave his hands away from your face. “Someone has to take things seriously around here.”

“Why? Nothing to worry about. You'll see.”

You almost hate how unbuttered he is by this, but at the same time, how many times has he done this before? Lestat was a clever man. He surely chose his victims carefully. If people kept on disappearing from the same place, flags would be raised. 

“I trust you,” you say softly.

Lestat grins. “That's what I like to hear. Now, back to mine for a nightcap?”

You roll your eyes and go with him.

When you get back to his house, Lestat can tell you're still freaking out over Eleanor's presence in town. You're all figgity in your seat. Lestat sighs and holds out the glass of wine in front of your face. When you don't take it from him he places it on the table beside you.

“I can make you forget,” he offers.

“Forget?”

“About Eleanor and her questions.”

“That might make things worse,” you sigh. You didn't want to forget that the family of a dead man was out there searching for him.

“Just for tonight.” Lestat leans over, his lips brushing along your ear. You feel a shiver run down your spine. 

He closes the distance between you both and wraps his arms around you so smoothly. You fall into his embrace with ease. Whatever line there was between you before had been crossed, and you knew there was no going back. Lestat kisses along your jaw, your breathing came out in small little pants. He had you right where he wanted you.

“Lestat,” he name falls from your lips with ease.

“Shh.” He whispers in your ear. “Tonight you are mine and I am yours.”

His lips press against your own with desire. Long awaited desire. From this single kiss you knew he had been waiting a long time for this. Lestat had had his eyes on you for a while now. It was only a matter of time before he got what he wanted. Lestat could be patient when he wanted to be.

He pulls you into his lap and brings your bodies closer together. It's like a magnetic force bringing you together. You follow after his lips, your hands grab onto him wherever they can. Lestat lets you chase after every part of him that you want.

Your fingers dig into his hair as he pulls you to sit up in his lap. He lifts you up enough so he can lay you down and climb on top of you. His lips leave yours to trail back down your jaw and then your neck. Your back arches as he goes lower, down to your collarbone. His hands stay firm on your hips.

You're about to forget your own damn name, that's for sure.

His large hands go wandering under your clothes. You've never found yourself in this position before. Lestat had you feeling all kinds of ways.

You gasp as he sucks on the spot he bit you from last time you were here. The skin there was sensitive and had you shaking under him.

“Ma petite beauté.”

He speaks in a low voice. He's using every ounce of his charms to keep you with him. It's working.

His fingers pluck at your clothes. You don't even move to stop him. He smirks against your skin.  He's about to undo the buttons but there's firm knocking at the door.

Lestat lifts his head. You look up at him. “Don't answer it.”

“Chéri, I do not get guests.” He looks at you.

You hear the knock again and Lestat rises from the couch. He fixes his hair and stalks slowly toward the door. You sit up and fix your clothes, missing the touch of his lips on your skin.

Lestat opens the doors. You watch from your spot on the sofa. He doesn't say anything as she steps back and lets the person inside.

Amelie.

You stand up quickly and hurry over to her. “What are you doing here?”

“I knew you would be here.” She looks you up and down. “I didn't know where else to go.”

You place your hands on her shoulders and look at her. Lestat watches from the door. He remains quiet as you talk to her.

“It's about Noah… the police came to the theater. His sister called them after finding his apartment. He's gone missing.”

You stare at her. Lestat can see the panic in your eyes. Eleanor was causing him problems. He is normally a little more clever when it comes to his victims.

“What… what's happening?” You ask.

“They're saying kidnap, but… they're also gonna look for a body… It was awful. They were all over the theater lookin’ for clues.”

You glance at Lestat who holds your gaze with a sharp look. You turn back to Amelie. “Let me walk ya home.”

Amelie nods and follows you out. Lestat doesn't even get to kiss you goodbye.

@awanderingghost @theprettiesthead @cosmixstar @theblueslytherin @katherine2098 @sawendel @floofdeloop @sitkafay @bigbaddie45 @bluscryn

@secretisme4 @darkqueen1995 @bridkesby @caribbeangal @sarcasticandfangirl @missjadesfics @kaybart19

[weirdsht]

Disillusioned 17 . Heterogeneity (2)

a/n: my body's crashing but midterms are ending soon so hopefully I'll be able to sleep

tags: implications of torture (squint really hard to see it), yandere-ish if you squint, Cale is unconscious again

English isn’t my first language so there will be grammatical errors

Pls don't repost my work anywhere without my permission

Constructive criticisms and any kind of interaction are more than welcome

Requests are currently closed but my ask are still open (read pinned)

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_____ was walking down in the halls just outside Cale’s room. With nothing better to do after talking to Rosalyn, they decided to go out and help Pendrick heal injured soldiers outside. 

However, not 10 steps in and a certain red-haired man is shoving them back into the room they came from.

“What are you doing out? You should be lying down.”

Surprisingly enough, it’s Choi Han who spoke up and not Cale.

“Even if you heal fast there’s no way a wound that severe has fully closed up.”

The swordmaster had a look of disapproval on his face and _____’s poor heart just dropped. Never in their life had they seen Choi Han this disappointed with them.

“What did you even do yesterday? We still don’t know what happened.”

Cale tucked the healer in bed tightly as if they didn’t wake up just half an hour ago. _____ tried to get back up again but thought against it when they saw how the golden dragon was guarding the door with Choi Han guarding the end of the bed.

“I really don’t need to rest more, I swear my wound is almost healed.”

“Almost healed is different from fully healed. You will stay in this bed until we go back to the underground villa. I won’t take no for an answer.”

That shut _____ up.

However, the silence did not last long.

“Start explaining what the hell happened yesterday. Choi Han told you that you told him about how you discovered something.”

Cale sat at the end of the bed. Meanwhile, Eruhaben moved to sit on the couch with Choi Han taking over his place to stand at the door.

“Huh? Oh yes, it was also back when you guys went to Paerun Kingdom.”

The healer forgot for a moment about what they did yesterday. Mind too clouded by the things they talked about with Rosalyn earlier.

“My powers work like a transfer right? Oh right, Eruhaben-nim didn’t know, I’m sorry. So usually I would absorb someone’s wounds or whatever and then I would give and multiply my vitality right?”

Eruhaben started wondering how he got surrounded by so many unlucky people before his death. However, no one in the room knew about his thoughts.

“It got me wondering if I can do the opposite. You know, transfer and multiply my wound and then get their vitality or something along those lines.”

“Huuu”

Cale couldn’t help but sigh and pinch the bridge of his nose.

“You do know that this wasn’t what Ron meant when he told you to create something of your own, right?”

“It wasn’t? But isn’t it still a good idea.”

“_____-nim… that’s not…”

Choi Han started wondering why his serving two self-sacrificial young masters. Just like with the gold dragon, no one else knew about his thoughts.

“Yes, I know… Rosalyn-unnie already scolded me about it. I’m really sorry, I won’t do it again.”

“And what exactly are you sorry for?”

Cale’s gaze looked as though he was ready to get disappointed by whatever the healer was about to say.

“No really, I know what I did wrong this time. I’ll try not to put myself in danger next time. I’m really sorry for worrying everyone, I know I acted rashly.”

“Try?”

Eruhaben’s voice rang out for the first time since they got inside the room.

“I mean it’s a good ability… I was just unlucky this time because that half-dragon got away before I could steal some vitality… Plus, wouldn’t it be super helpful? Like imagine I have just a tiny cut but when I transfer it to the enemy it can become a lethal wound.”

While Cale is glad _____ is more lively and doesn’t act like a puppet anymore, he's not happy about this newfound stubbornness. Where did the healer even learn it from? But just like the other two men, no one else knew about his thoughts.

The commander doesn’t want to restrict the healer’s movements or freedom. Not only would it be annoying to have to constantly look after them, but it would be similar to how they used to live when they were with the Perduellios.

But at the same time, this discovery is dangerous when left alone.

“Haaa, you’ll only use that ability when it’s an emergency or when I allow you to. Unnecessarily use that power again and see if Beacrox will prepare any more desserts for you.”

Not Beacrox’s desserts, _____ loves those.

The crestfallen healer only nodded in agreement. But honestly, they don’t fully understand why everyone is acting as though they have no self-preservation. It’s not like they won’t heal. Did everyone miss the part when _____ said they can absorb another person’s vitality?

If there’s someone in their group who has no self-preservation it’s gotta be Cale, not them.

True to Cale’s words _____ didn’t get to help out in anything for the remaining time they were in Caro Kingdom. Every attempt of theirs would get shut down by everyone. The healer thought it would get better after they fully healed.

Yes and No

After resting for a bit in the super rock villa, _____ has been allowed to go back to their regular duties. However, Cale stuck the healer to him like glue. From war battles to stealthy operations to more battles. From the Caro Kingdom to the Roan Kingdom to the Western Continent to the Empire. No matter where Cale went _____ is with him. 

Well, not like _____ has a problem with it so they just let it be.

Plus they know that if they want, they can ask Cale anytime to leave them in Leeb-An City or the underground villa.

But they didn’t because just as it eases Cale’s mind to have the healer with him (not that he’d admit it), _____’s mind is also at ease whenever they are with Cale.

Or so it was.

If _____ hated Adin and the White Star before, they loathe them now.

"I-I don't understand, his body is completely fine. I have also replenished his energy however he won't wake up."

It’s been more than a week since the day Cale fainted. Yet he still showed no signs of waking up. To some extent, the healer could tell that the redhead’s body needed rest from overexerting.

But almost two weeks?

Who wouldn’t worry?

The only silver lining to all this is that it gave the Medicus some time to ponder about their feelings. Gave them time to think as to how they’d handle this garden called love whose flowers are blooming more and more in _____’s heart every day.

Ultimately they have decided to not do anything.

What _____ has concluded these days is that the form of love they want to give is support. For them that's what love is, supporting your loved ones even if he's unaware of their feelings. Being there whenever he needs them and expecting nothing in return.

And that’s exactly what the healer did.

They helped in any way they could. From healing the injured to helping with the paperwork. Sometimes Rosalyn and Raon had to remind _____ that they must rest, that they were overworking themself, and that the matters of the empire could wait until they got some rest.

_____ tries their best to listen. However, they would be seen doing the same thing again two days later.

“Cale seems to have like-minded people around him. Are you also not interested in a noble title?”

Alberu and  _____ are sitting across from each other. Both working on their own pile of paperwork.

“Under no circumstances was I ever interested in such things Your Highness. However more than that, I believe it would be unfair for our citizens if the Perduellio’s rise again when they got such a light sentence.”

The crown prince nodded in understanding. As someone who is always thinking about what’s best for the kingdom and its citizens, he could tell where the healer is coming from.

However, there’s a mistake in what _____ said.

A light sentence? That’s far from the truth.

Even thinking about what happened to that family sends a shiver down the quarter Dark Elf’s spine.

The official statement for what happened to the Perduellios is that the entire family have been stripped of their title and all their assets have been seized by the crown. As far as everyone knows they are now somewhere living as peasants.

But isn’t it weird that no one has seen them?

Cale has been… looking after them, for the lack of a better word. Alberu may not know the full story but he surely knows the extent of the young master’s anger.

He low-key wishes he could erase from his mind the condition of that cell and its inhabitants.

“However Medicus-nim, are you aware that you can’t live in hiding forever?”

Alberu pushes his other thoughts away. Why bother dwelling on them when only he, Cale, Tasha, and Beacrox know what happened? For now, he’ll focus on this paperwork and his conversation with the healer.

“Very much so your highness. I have lived my entire life hiding. What is a few years more?”

_____ paused for a second to take a second look at the document they are currently reading.

“However your Highness, the same thing cannot be said for you. This is prime time for you and the other Dark Elves.”

Alberu lets out a hearty laugh at that.

“Of course Medicus-nim. Yet you got one thing wrong. This is also a prime time for you. Worry not as I will surely allow you to live as Roan Kingdom’s Medicus once more. Consider it as my reward for putting up with a certain redhead.”

_____ tried to deny it. Tried to say that they did not need such things. Nonetheless, Alberu did not relent. He and Cale had already agreed that they would let this poor healer live out their life after being used like a tool since childhood.

Plus the blonde is seriously getting tired of Cale ranting about how suffocated _____ is having to wear a mask all the time even if they don’t complain.

"It's fine to be greedy sometimes you know? Sometimes it's all right to take whatever it is you want."

Alberu did not look at _____ as he spoke. Instead, he's looking at the unconscious commander on the luxurious bed.

_____, who understood what the crown prince meant, felt embarrassed. Their face turned into a light hue of pink as they thought of a retort.

However, Alberu did not let them do so. He simply motioned over to the healer with his glance before continuing the paperwork in his hands. _____ followed suit, and soon the room was filled with silence again, the only exceptions being the rustling of papers and their pens scribbling.

bonus-ish: sometimes I can't help but comment while I'm wrting lol

[asherraccoon]

Sick- Radioapple- Sickfic, Hurt/comfort kinda?

(I'm sick rn so Luci gets to be sick too 😤😤😤)

Lucifer coughed rather loudly. He sniffled, which only resulted in him coughing again. He groaned, hiding his head under the blankets. Lucifer hated being sick. He reached for his phone and checked the time. It was only 11 am. He had been stuck in bed all day, feeling like shit. 

There was a knock on the door. Alastor entered the room holding a tray with food. “Hey,” he said quietly. He closed the door behind him and walked over to Lucifer. 

Lucifer watched as Alastor set the food on the table next to his bed. He coughed into his pillow. “Hi,” he muttered. 

“How are you holding up?” Alastor asked, sitting on the edge of the bed.

“What do you think?” Lucifer retorted. He wasn't in a good mood. But then again, who was in a good mood when they got sick? 

Alastor's ears lowered. He rubbed his neck. “I brought you some soup. Figured it'd be easiest for you to stomach,” 

“I'll eat it when I get hungry,” Lucifer mumbled. He sniffled. “Hand me a tissue will ya?” 

Alastor obeyed the request and handed Lucifer a tissue. 

Lucifer sat up and wiped his nose with the tissue. “Hate being sick,” he murmured. 

Alastor laughed. “Yeah, not many enjoy it,” 

Lucifer threw the tissue in the trash can by his bed. He lay back down and pulled the blanket up over his shoulders.

“Anything I can do for you?” Alastor asked. 

Lucifer shook his head. “No. I just need to sleep more and try not to die,” he muttered. He coughed again. And then some more. 

Alastor gently patted Lucifer's back as he coughed. 

“Nooo, don't touch meeee,” Lucifer whined. “I don't want you to get sick,” he said, looking up at Alastor. 

“I don't care if I get sick, I just want you to feel better,” Alastor said, combing Lucifer's messy bangs back with his fingers. 

Lucifer sneezed, accidentally causing himself to shapeshift. He turned into a cat. Blonde fur with black legs and a white muzzle and belly. He blinked his eyes and looked at his paws. “Fuck,” he curled up under the blankets, hiding himself completely. 

“Is that normal?” Alastor asked. 

“No,” Lucifer mumbled. “When I'm sick my shapeshifting gets all wacky,” he whined. “I can't control what I turn into when I'm sick,” 

Alastor pulled the blanket off of Lucifer's cat form and picked him up, setting him in his lap. “Well, perhaps some rest will do you good,” he said, scratching Lucifer's ears. 

“Having me in your lap is a terrible idea,” Lucifer grumbled. “If I sneeze and turn into a horse, I'm going to crush you,” he purred at the scratching. 

“Worth it to me,” Alastor replied, smiling. “As long as you feel better,” 

Lucifer's cat form flicked his tail. He felt a tickle in his nose. He stood up and jumped off the bed so he could sneeze and shapeshift without worrying about hurting Alastor. He sneezed three times, shapeshifting each time. First a bear, then a wolf, then finally a snake. He sniffled and coughed. “Ugh…” 

Alastor's expression shifted to be one of sympathy. “Are you okay?” He asked. 

Lucifer shook his head. He shifted back into his usual form. He rubbed his nose and coughed a couple of times into his arm. “I wish I could just poof my illness away,” he muttered. “Can't just wap bap boom alakazam and be fine, unfortunately,” he said. He coughed again. He lay on his back on the floor. 

“Why don't you try and eat?” Alastor suggested. 

Lucifer shook his head. “No, I'm not hungry,” he said, sighing. He sniffed. “Kill me please…” he muttered, putting his arms over his eyes. 

“Y'know, two years ago that would have sounded very appealing,” Alastor joked. 

“Two years…” Lucifer repeated. He looked at Alastor. “Has it really been that long since we first met?” 

Alastor nodded. “Indeed. I can hardly believe it myself,”

“Huh…” Lucifer stared up at the ceiling.

There was a moment of silence. 

Lucifer got up off the floor and went over to the bed. He lay down on the bed with his head in Alastor's lap. 

Alastor played with Lucifer's hair. “I don't think I've ever seen you sick before,” 

“I don't get sick often,” Lucifer muttered. He pressed his face against Alastor's stomach. “'m tired…” he mumbled. 

“Then go ahead and get some sleep,” Alastor said softly. 

“My nose is too fucked up,” Lucifer complained. 

Alastor sighed. “You should still try,” 

Lucifer huffed. He coughed again. “I wanna die…” he murmered. 

“And I don't want you to die,” Alastor said. He booped Lucifer's nose. “You'll feel better after getting some more rest,” 

“Stop tryna get me to sleep,” Lucifer pouted. 

“No,” Alastor replied. 

Lucifer grumbled. He closed his eyes and nuzzled his face into Alastor's stomach, his arms around the radio demon's waist. “Bambi?” 

“Hm?”

“Can you sing for me?” 

Alastor chuckled softly. “I don't see why not, mon ange,” he continued to mess with Lucifer's blonde hair. He began to sing as Lucifer asked of him. 

Lucifer listened. He enjoyed it when Alastor sang for him. It wasnt long before he finally fell asleep, his mouth slightly open, a soft snore emitting from him. 

Alastor noticed Lucifer fall asleep, but he didn't stop singing until the song was finished. Once he was done, he leaned his head back and sighed softly. “Get well soon, mon ange,” 

(They both ended up sick in the morning 😋) 

[itsuki-minamy]

"LSW - EPILOGUE"

TRANSLATION: NARU-KUN

"Hey, Yata, did you know? Scepter 4 members live in dormitories."

That happened when he was eating with Totsuka at the bar counter. Totsuka suddenly said something as if he had always had an idea.

"What is this all of a sudden? I know... that guy told me."

Yata replied with a loud pout.

One day, half of the luggage suddenly disappeared from the room the two had been living in since the end of high school, and then moved into the Scepter 4 dorm, a statement that made him question his sanity. Was this the trick of the cat ears and earthworms?! He thought afterward as he stomped his feet.

Soon after, Yata also left that room. Every time he went to bed, he would notice the emptiness above his head and couldn’t help but feel nauseous.

"So, since it’s a dorm, does it have a dining room or something?"

"Eh? I don't know..."

"I wonder if he's eating enough food. You know, Fushimi is a picky eater, so I don't think there's much proper set menu in the cafeteria. What do you think, Yata?"

"I don't know! Why do I have to worry about the traitor's food?!"

When Totsuka continued to talk insensitively, Yata got angry and slammed his fist on the counter. The plate bounced off and the cup fell over, flooding the counter with water. Fortunately, Kusanagi wasn't there, so he was saved from punishment.

Totsuka looked surprised and took a step back. Feeling awkward, Yata looked down and pulled both fists, including the spoon in his right hand, out from under the counter.

He kicked the empty loft from below dozens of times above his head and fell headfirst onto his bed, clutching his legs and saying, "It hurts!" He yelled at himself... He just couldn't control his anger. He went crazy for a while, venting his anger outside of himself, but when he felt empty and stopped, something suddenly rose up in his throat and he felt an incomprehensible feeling of regret. Although he said he was sorry, he didn't know exactly what he was sorry for. However, for Yata, it was nothing more than a feeling of regret.

He regretted it. He grabbed a pillow and pressed it hard against his face, gritting his teeth so hard that his mouth cut and regretting it no matter what.

"Ah, if that guy changes his mind and apologizes, and says he wants to go back, we'll bow to Mikoto-san together. He's not the type to bow to anyone, so I'll bow to him, and if Mikoto-san doesn't feel satisfied unless he hit Saruhiko, then he'll hit me along with him."

"Well, if King really hits you, will Yata die?! Are you okay?!"

Totsuka was surprised at how over the top he was, so he flinched and said, "Ugh!" For Yata, coming into contact with Suoh's suspicions is scarier than any ghost story or horror movie.

"I... Still, I'm ready. I won't let Saruhiko get beaten up alone."

His voice was hoarse. However, he clenched his fist tighter, stared at the counter, and finished his sentence.

"Yeah, well, I think it's manly to be prepared for that, but isn't it a little one-sided? I wonder if that's what Fushimi wants."

"...? What do you mean? Don't say things like you already know them..."

He felt strangely angry and glared at him. Totsuka had a calm smile on his face as always.

"This is what King and the Blue King look like."

Then, he suddenly started talking again.

"It's not like they're just fighting each other like you think, Yata. Well, it seems like there's a lot going on in Fushimi's position, and it would be nice if we could talk someday... Even... If I say this now, Yata, you still don't get it, right?"

When he laughed at Yata, who asked indignantly, "Are you making fun of me?" Totsuka raised his hands in surrender and said, "Sorry, sorry."

"Well, remember what I said someday, somewhere. Even if I'm not there at that time."

"Hey, please don't say things like you're going to die someday. That brings bad luck."

When he said that in a particularly grumpy manner, Totsuka simply smiled.

++++++++++

No Blood, No Bone, No Ash!

No Blood, No Bone, No Ash!

No Blood, No Bone, No Ash!

As he excitedly waved his fists in the air, stamped his foot, and raised his voice, his surroundings became warm. Yata looked left and right with teary eyes.

He didn't know where they came from, but before he knew it, sparks were dancing all over the area.

It wasn't that... there was light. All around him, his friends were shaking their fists and chanting the same words in unison, and from each of their bodies light was born, like little lives separating. As if calling out to one another, the light gathered, dyeing the white landscape red as it rose into the sky covered in snow clouds.

"Ah..."

When he looked at his chest, he saw that the mark on his body was also exuding a soft red light.

Another light was born from within him and he let himself be carried away by the light of his companions.

He felt that Suoh's flame still resided deep within the mark that remained on his body. The flame filled his body with a gentle warmth. It was as if the fierce anger that Suoh had held within him as a wild king was dissipating and beginning to crumble.

"Mikoto-san..."

Following the light, Yata raised his tear-soaked face.

"No Blood, No Bone, No Ash! No Blood, No Bone, No Ash...!!"

He held the spot tightly and let out a loud voice as if to let go of the emotions welling up within him.

Looking up from there, he saw a line of armored vehicles with blue markings stopping on the railing of the bridge that connects Gakuenjima and the mainland. He saw a light gently floating above the bridge, moving away from the group of lights of his companions.

Fushimi was holding the same place as Yata with his hand, looking up at the sky with a strange expression on his face, as if he had lost some of his poison.

(Oh, shit...)

Yata cursed in his heart.

Why is he remembering that now? Totsuka-san, did he know he would leave one day? Was he talking about this moment?

Now that he can't do that again, he realized that he should have taken the plunge and asked Suoh what the Blue King meant to him.

He wanted to ask Totsuka what he really meant when he suddenly said something like that and said that Yata still didn't understand, but now that he can't do that again, he realized.

It's annoying for Yata to admit that, but if there's something that can help him, it's...

He's alive. They can still meet as many times as they want, express their doubts and anger, and try to talk.

"No Blood, No Bone, No Ash! No Blood, No... Idiot Monkey! No Ash!"

He doesn't know if he heard the insults mixed with his anger, but Fushimi glared at him.

The two exchanged glances on and off the bridge.

As everyone continued to chant in unison, Yata glared at Fushimi without taking his eyes off. He raised his voice even louder, intending to smash him into the bridge. He kept screaming even when his voice was hoarse, he pounded the ground even when he couldn't feel his legs anymore, and he kept swinging his fists even when he couldn't lift his arms.

[max1461]

I think the nootropics thing is like, faux-legibility, which is what bothers me. I said I agree with that anon who claimed Western society ("Western society") overvalues legibility, but I think it's more like... Western society ("Western society") loves faux-legibility, metrizability that doesn't correspond to what we actually care about. Because I do like legibility. One of the reasons I don't mind caffeine is that its effects on me feel very legible, phenomenologically. I drink a cup of coffee and instantly I feel a noticeably more awake, maybe a little anxious if I have too much, this and that. The effect is not too strong, like being drunk, which I generally don't like, because it changes too much and is a confusing, illegible experience.

But see, this is all feelings-based, internal. People talk about nootropics and they're like "I take such and such milligrams of lsd every day and I can't really feel anything but I think it's been making me more open-minded overall, I've noticed XYZ improve in my life since I started doing this". And this is like, this is like awful to me. I mean you do you but like. This is faux-legible, you know some dosage numbers but it's not phenomenologically obvious what's happening to you, you're suggesting that this shit is changing your behavior in some diffuse way that you can't pinpoint? Terrifying, baffling that you would do this to yourself. At least if I drink a bunch of coffee and then find myself sitting around worrying about something stupid, I can be like "oh, obviously this is because of all that coffee I just drank, I can tell I am too-many-cups-of-coffee anxious". Like I'm sure drinking coffee has illegible effects too, literally everything you do has illegible effects, but trying to incur that shit on purpose through some kind of complicated scheme where you microdose this and that just seems disquieting.

It's like... studies, right. Studies say that this and that is true, because we did a controlled trial and it was statistically significant. To me this is the worst type of science. Because like, I don't doubt that if you do your experiments and stats well, the results are meaningful. Sure. But why? Why does the thing happen? What is actually going on. No idea, you just did a study. Whereas with physics it's like, ok there's still a philosophical "why" in the most abstract sense but at a more particular level it's like "this magnetic field pushes on this thing and then makes that happen, blah blah", it's like, it's describing this comprehensible sequence of events, that you can understand the workings of. That's what science is for. To me. No wonder then that nootropics is loved by studies guys, by guys who read this and that study and are impressed by it. No wonder that nootropics is loved by such guys, according to me based on my gut right now.

[songsofadelaide]

"—ppy Birthday tooo yooou!" The light was dimmed and the only illumination came from the numerous candles set alight on a shiny fruit and cream shortcake, your smile as bright as the sun as your friends sang in the background. "—ke a wish before you blow the candle—"

Click.

"—toru, hurry up before the timer hits!—" "—f my life, my angel, my—" A young Satoru ran to your side and gave your cheek a big-ass smooch as countless golden ginkgo leaves rained in your background. A picture-perfect autumn ahead of a new year full of decisions. "Ahaha! Nooo! That tickl—"

Click.

"—guru, come on over! You too, Shoko! It—" Empty coffee cups were strewn across your shared table with your friends, the sound of both laughter and complaints filling the air as your friends gathered around you and Satoru, his laughter the loudest of them all. "—haha! Ack! No! W-Wait up, Kento! Satoru said—"

Click.

"Oh, so that's what you've been up to, Seiya," you said, breaking the silence that enveloped your son's bedroom as he jumped from his gaming chair and hurriedly minimized the open video player on his PC.

"M-Mom! H-How long have you been standing there?!"

"Long enough for me to know where my missing SD cards went," you chuckled at the evidently embarrassed face of your teenage son, the spitting image of his father in his youth except for his eyes— which he clearly inherited from you. "Now how did you get your hands on these?"

"W-Well, I..." Came the boy's sheepish reply, a nervous hand on his nape as he evaded your curious gaze. His embarrassed expression starkly contrasted with your husband's usual mischievousness and boisterousness, even though they shared the same long, feathery and silvery eyelashes and hair.

"You're not in trouble, dear, if that's what you're worried about," you reassured him as you took a half-seat on the handle of his chair, careful not to rest your entire weight on it. "Now let me see..."

Seiya released his mouse to you, which you used to click on the minimized video player once more. Digicams were all the rage back when you were in high school and well into college and as the only one in your friend group who owned one, you were primarily responsible for documenting every mundane and special occasion whenever you all got together.

"Oh, this was from my 18th birthday," you laughed as you clicked on the following snippets. "And this was when your father and I visited Meiji Shrine before our college entrance exams. Aaand I think this was just a regular day! We just had coffee..."

"Aunt Shoko never really stopped smoking, did she?" Came your son's query as he eyed you browsing through the aged video clips with a small smile on your face. It was clear to him that you were reminiscing now about the days of your youth, encapsulated in slightly grainy and overexposed photos and videos, yet the memories were clear as day.

"Nope. Though she does that thing now. That, uh, vaping thing? Now don't get any ideas, young man."

"I-I won't, Mom! I promise!" Seiya stammered at your slight warning. "I'm sorry I touched your things. I just thought it would be interesting... to see how you and dad were when you were my age."

Oh, but he pulls off those adorable puppy dog eyes just like his father, all right.

"It's hard to believe that he had so much time for you back then! I-I mean he's so busy now! Does he even remember to text you or at least get you a gift every now and then? I-If not, maybe we can go somewhere together? Or do something together?"

"Oh, Seiya. I'll have you know that I am very happy to be married to your father," you gently laughed at your son's little outburst, coiling your arms around his neck as he lazily rested his warm cheek on your chest. "He loves me a great deal and does so much for me. And for you, in case you've forgotten."

"I... I know," came his defeated response. "All the work he does is for us..."

"I don't think Toru is so busy that he forgets us... Do you perhaps miss your father, Seiya?"

"N-No, I don't!" The boy huffed in your arms, his brows furrowed as he attempted to hide his evidently embarrassed face yet again.

"Your father and I love you very much, Seiya," you said with a smile and a soft hum as you tenderly ran your fingers through your son's hair. You weren't surprised when he wrapped his arms around you and returned your embrace. I suppose he takes after his father in clinginess, too.

"I already know that... But thanks, mom."