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sweetcarrotsandroses97 · 9 months

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~ Bonded by a Ring | JJK

Pairing: CEO!husband!Jungkook x writer!fem!wife!Reader

Warnings: arranged marriage, fluff, a bit of angst. (This is a light chapter tbh, I can't think of anymore triggering content. Let me know if I missed anything!)

Summary: We take a look at your life as Mrs. Jeon, wife of the rich heir to Jeon Enterprises, Jungkook. He was a handsome gentleman who you were able to call your husband yet the relationship between you both was entirely political and civil. Could feelings begin to sparkle between the cracks of marriage?

Word Count: 2.8k

A/N: This was supposed to come out yesterday on Kook's birthday but I was busy and I couldn't edit it but here it is! I'll continue writing this small drabble series when I find the time while also working on other fics I hope to be able to publish soon.

Let me know your thoughts on this one in the comments, please! Drabbles are open for this au in case you want to request something my inbox is open!!💜

It was dark outside. Dusk had settled a while ago and your husband was still not home. You worried for him, for his health. He worked so much and rested too little.

You were sitting on the couch, your laptop rested atop your folded legs. Glancing at the clock you noticed how it was nearly midnight. You sighed. This was not new for you. For Jungkook to always come home late, seldom were those times in which he dined with you.

Rarely did you ever go to bed together as you often found yourself curled in the large mattress without him to keep you warm during the night.

You and Jungkook have been married for some months now. A marriage that was arranged by his parents. A marriage that was of advantage to you both for he needed to have a wife and an heir to inherit his family's company and you, well you needed his name.

As an author who had published her first novel, you became really popular in the world of words and books and you could thank it all to your husband's marketing team.

There was no love between you two. But you didn't hate him either. The relationship between you and Jungkook was a polite one, he was ever the gentleman with you and in exchange he obtained your respect.

You cared for him to a certain extent. You always made sure he never left for work on an empty stomach and had ready some light dinner for when he came home late. You always made sure his shirts were ironed and his shoes polished.

And in return, Jungkook always gave you anything you could possibly need. Do you have an appointment with your editor? He'd make sure his chauffeur would drive you there. Do you need some new clothes? You could always use his credit card. Do you want to get Bam a new toy? He’d made sure to bring you the best catalogues he could find for you to choose what to buy for the spoiled dog who had earned your heart too quickly.

It was a balanced relationship. He respected you, you respected him. Jungkook had his life, you had yours. But to the public, you both were a happily married couple. While inside closed doors, you treated each other as an old acquaintance of another lifetime.

Your attention got stolen by the sound of the electronic lock as the front door opened and in came Jungkook. Even from where you sat, you could see the tiredness in his body. The exhaustion.

You put the laptop aside before standing up and walking towards him. You took his coat from his hands and presented his slippers to him.

If Jungkook hadn't been that tired at that moment he'd have thanked you with a soft smile.

"I'm glad you're home, do you want to eat something? I can heat you up some dinner if you'd like?"

He let out a sigh, the stress, problems and frustration from work were getting on his nerves. And to even think that he had to go back tomorrow...

"No, I'm fine, (y/n). I just want to sleep."

You nodded, placing his coat in the hanger while putting his shoes in its place. The scent of his cologne invaded your senses and your touch lingered on the heavy robe he previously wore for longer than needed.

Your eyes followed his figure as he disappeared in one of the hallways and into the bedroom you both shared. You have never minded sharing a room with him, let alone the bed. The other two rooms in the large flat were transformed in your study while the other was his personal gym.

Walking back into the living room, you saved the draft of the story you had been working on for some time now before you powered off your laptop.

For a moment, your eyes lingered on the city lights. They looked so close yet so far at the same time. The large glass windows that reached from the floor up to the ceiling allowed you to see such a beautiful view.

You felt a sudden sense of loneliness wash over you. Something that felt strange in you, something you couldn't describe, let alone place its source.

With a sigh you turned around, your arms were hugging your figure as you approached the couch once more. You placed the laptop on the coffee table before walking towards the bedroom, turning the lights off on your way.

Jungkook was already lying down on his side of the bed, his back facing you. With quick and silent movements you approached the other side of the bed and sat down before getting yourself under the covers.

You assumed your husband was already asleep as deep breaths could be heard in the quietness of the place. You turned on your right side, facing his back as you shut your tired eyes after having been in front of a screen for too long.

"Goodnight, (y/n)."

Those whispered words reached you before you fell into your deep slumber. You mumbled the words back as you succumbed to the tiredness in your body.

"Goodnight, Jungkook."

Little were you aware of the fluttering in your husband's heart at your words. Of the small smile that graced his lips at the little attentions you always gave him. By the way you were slowly entering his heart without you having the slightest idea.

Jungkook was woken up by his noisy alarm and he cursed under his breath before turning the frustrating noise off. With a sigh he sat up, one of his hands ruffled his hair before he stood up and went to the bathroom as he needed to get ready to go to the company yet again.

After taking a shower and getting dressed, Jungkook stepped out of the bedroom, closing the door behind him with a soft noise that nearly echoed in the overly silent apartment.

"Bam, stop it. You already had breakfast."

He heard your voice from somewhere in his large home as the smell of coffee suddenly hit him. His feet carried him over the hallway and across the living room until he entered the kitchen that faced the dining area.

Jungkook saw how you had prepared a plate filled with fruit and some yoghurt as well as a cup of coffee. He couldn't help the smile that grew on his face, the moment itself was precious as if gotten out of one of the dramas he had caught you watching from time to time when you needed inspiration to write or to simply pass the time.

His stomach fluttered when you lifted your gaze from the large yet cute dog who stole your attention to look at your husband. A smile on your own was painted over your lips.

Time seemed to stop when your eyes met his, Jungkook didn't know for how long the both of you stayed like that. As if trapped in a loop of time of perfection. Almost like a real married couple did.

He broke eye contact and cleared his throat, as if snapping himself from some kind of spell. A spell only you conjure over me. The thought crossed his mind before he could stop it. Your smile disappeared from your face as you looked aside, your cheeks heating.

"Did... did you sleep well?"

You asked after a moment or two of silence. Even Bam stopped moving by your side as if somehow the canine felt the subtle tension rising in the kitchen.

"Yes, thank you."

Then it was awkward again. You didn't know what to say. He wasn't moving, neither were you. He didn't seem to want to lift his gaze as it was placed on the white floor beneath his feet. As if it were the most interesting thing in the world.

"I made you some breakfast. It is not healthy for you to leave on an empty stomach, Jungkook."

He hummed, walking toward the stool before sitting down, his breakfast resting on the marble counter.

"I'm going to take a shower."

You excused yourself and left the kitchen, not allowing your husband to say anything as the next second you were already walking down the hallway.

A sigh left your lips as you leaned on the closed door of your shared bedroom. What just happened? You thought to yourself while pressing the back of your hands up to your cheeks to try and cool down the skin that felt suddenly too hot.

You decided a cold shower would help you clear your mind so you didn't waste another minute to grab your clothes and hop into the shower, allowing the cool water to run down your body and refresh your mind.

Jungkook sat at the stool, spoon in hand as he ate the last of his yoghurt. His cup of coffee was already half empty when you emerged from the bedroom, your hair was wet and you were wearing fresh clothes.

The scent of your shampoo hit him and there it was, the fluttering in his heart, the soft churning of his stomach.

He emptied the bowl with his breakfast and downed the remnants of his coffee before he stood up.

"I have to leave now."

Your hands picked up his bowl and cup as you placed them on the sink.

"Have a nice day, Jungkook."

He didn't know what was happening. Everyday you woke up and prepared some breakfast for him, sometimes he ate it at the flat other times he took it with him to eat it at the office.

Why was he feeling so strange right now when what you were doing was completely normal?

You turned to look at him with a warm smile over your lips, ignoring the way your heart sped up a little by the mere sight of him or the way you felt your palms begin to sweat due to the nerves of being with him in the same room.

He mirrored your smile and you swore you had seen Heaven. You loved his smile. You had always found it pretty. It suited him. Not that you had ever told him that but it was a thought you had had since you first met.

"Don't forget to have breakfast, (y/n). I'll try to come back a bit earlier today."

Butterflies fluttered in your stomach at the thought of him coming home at a decent hour from work.

"Oh, that's good. Have a nice day, then."

You mentally face-palmed yourself. You already wished him a good day, idiot! But he chuckled, walking away from the kitchen and toward the front door. You watched him like every other day, you watched him put his coat on as well as his shoes.

Jungkook turned around and smiled at you before he was out of the door, the soft click of the lock echoed so loudly in the now nearly empty flat.

You sighed, going back to the kitchen to prepare something to eat for yourself. Just like Jungkook told you. The promise of his early arrival set a smile on your lips once more. Wanting to be with him again, even when he had just left not even five minutes ago.

The reason for this new feeling? You didn't know. But you couldn't say you didn't like it either. Jungkook was your husband after all, it was only natural to want to be close and spend time with the person one marries, right?

"Jungkook, are you listening?"

His head turned to look at the side only to spot Jimin, one of his close friends and co-workers already looking at him with an expectant and curious expression over his delicate features.

"Sorry, what?"

Jimin sighed, a hand running through his blond hair.

"I was saying that we need to close the deal with Mr. Cha as soon as possible. It will help us increase our sales."

Jungkook let out a deep breath as his thumb kept clicking and clicking the pen that was in his grasp.

"I know. I'm sorry, hyung. I have a lot on my mind right now."

Jimin clicked his tongue as he put some files aside.

"Yeah, I figured. I'll ask Hoseok to look into this and bring you the contract for you to sign."

"Thanks, Jimin-ssi."

The latter smiled, more than smirked and said, his hands tangling in front of him over the table.

"Now tell me, what is bothering you?"

Jungkook knew his friend was going to ask that question sooner or later. He leaned back on his chair and said, fidgeting with the pen in between his fingers.

"It's (y/n)."

If Jungkook had been looking at his friend, he'd have seen how Jimin's eyes widened at the mention of your name. He had met you on a couple of occasions, one of them being your wedding with his younger friend, that's why he grew surprised when you were the centre of Jungkook's current state of mind.

"What happened? Did you two fight or something?"

The doe-eyed man shook his head, placing his pen on the table before his eyes locked with the curious gaze of one of his closest friends.

"What? No, I don't think I could ever fight with her."

Jimin hummed, allowing him to continue.

"It's just that... man I don't know. I can't sleep, I can barely eat. My mind is always racing with the mere idea of her. This morning I saw her smile and... I just thought of how beautiful she looked while smiling. I want to make her smile like that, you know? I want her to be happy and to smile at me like that everyday, Jimin."

There was a moment of silence between the two men. Seconds tickled by, the silence stretched. Nearly swallowing the younger man with his own thoughts and racing heart.

"What? Don't you have something to say, Jimin-ah? You are always teasing me and when I tell you something serious you stay quiet."

The blond haired man seemed to snap out of his own mind. The only thought in his head was the one of Finally!

"You like her."

Stated Jimin. There existed no ounce of hesitation in those three words.

"What?!"

Jimin rolled his eyes, if anyone had seen the scene they would have thought it to be comical.

"Shhh, don't shout like that. I simply said that you like her. You like (y/n), Kook."

Jungkook swallowed. The possibility hadn't even crossed his mind. Did he- did he truly have feelings for you?

"But how?"

Jimin refrained himself from smacking Jungkook on the back of his head. Perhaps they were both speaking as friends right now but the blond man had to remind himself that Jungkook was technically his boss too. At least his future boss.

"Jungkook, it's completely normal. She is your wife, she's been living with you for months now. It actually surprises me that this hadn't happened before considering your one year anniversary is in two weeks."

The heir to Jeon Enterprises was too stunned to speak. Jimin had revealed a reality his heart already knew but his mind rejected to accept for he couldn't deny his friend's statement. He liked you, he really did. And now, he saw his situation with way more clarity than before.

"What do I do now, Jimin? Should I tell her how I feel?"

The older man laughed a bit. His eyes closed with the motion.

"See? You didn't deny it! You really like her, huh?"

Jungkook rolled his eyes, not liking the teasing from his friend.

"You didn't answer my question."

"Aish, you are totally clueless when it comes to romance, aren't you? Listen, Kook, first you have to know if she likes you back. Don't just open your heart where there could be a field of thorns, gift her things and see her reaction, do things for her and pay attention to her words, if she gets flustered or not. And if she doesn't show any signs, well then you have to win her heart."

Jungkook still had so many questions, so many things he wanted to know in order to act on the feelings his heart was treasuring. You were his wife, wasn't a marriage supposed to be sweet?

What he had with you wasn't bitter, but he found himself craving as of lately that sweet love of the heart.

He wished to be with you like a husband loves his wife, not only bounded by a ring but by sentiment too. To be tangled in the web of feelings that threatened to blossom in his heart with every thought of you, every single memory of you.

And he was going to do just that. To fight for your love. To win your heart or claim it if his name was already written in your soul for him to live in such a sacred place.

Bonded by rings, destined by fate. Claimed by society, yearning for a life by your side.

~Masterpost

Sept/02/2023

☕Caffeinate me so I can keep on writing! ☕

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zolanort · 5 months

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A hypothesis regarding the discolored monster blood in LU

We will be working with the assumption that blood in Hyrule has the same general functions that it does on earth. Our heroes are shown to bleed red and seem to expect blood in general to be not-dark at the very least. Based on earth, red/hemoglobin is the most popular option, though green/chlorocruorin and blue/hemocyanin do seem to be on the table based on my N64 save files.

Bad guys like to have their bases in cool places like volcanos. If Dink is set up near a volcano (+10 points for aesthetic) he and his minions could be suffering from Sulfhemoglobinemia. Sulphur can bind to hemoglobin, causing the affected blood to appear darker in color. If this were the case, however, we would expect the dark blooded monsters to be weaker because their blood would be less efficient at carrying oxygen, and therefore this option is unlikely as the black blooded monsters are shown to be stronger than regular monsters. Also the blood wouldn’t be black exactly, but a darker blue-green, so this probably isn’t the culprit.

Having low oxygen levels in general would cause blood to appear darker (darker red, not blue), but just like above, this would leave the monsters weaker rather than stronger, and therefore this option is highly unlikely.

The dark blooded monsters are referred to as being “infected” and Wind even asks if they’re sick.

Our sailor is a smart pirate lad; infections can and do cause blood discolorations, but this is usually due to the presence of something extra in the mix (which is basically always bad/not going to give you a power boost) and/or the usual problem where the red blood cells are rendered less efficient at their oxygen carrying duties, causing a darker red color. Therefore, a straight forward infection involving a biological agent (bacteria etc.) is not likely.

Blood will oxidize when it is old, which could make it appear dark/black in coloration. This doesn’t really support being extra strong or even alive, but this is the option I think is most likely. Why?

Because magic. This isn’t news, we all knew it was magic already. The Bad Guys are being fueled by an evil dark magical infection of some kind. But why black blood and a power boost specifically?

Assuming that magic is a form of energy, I propose that their cellular respiration may have been magically converted to use the evil dark magic instead of ATP. Why? With a (seemingly?) infinite supply of anger and spite fueled dark energy rather than a limited amount of ATP, and also assuming that dark energy wouldn’t impact the electron transport chain like ATP and the associated energy exchange byproducts would, the muscles of an infected monster would never get tired. This addresses our key issue of explaining the power boost symptom.

While any of the other coloration causes above could work along with this idea, due to the citric acid cycle being eliminated from the picture (and the need for breathing/oxygen along with it), the red blood cells are probably just chilling in the evil darkness infused veins of the baddies, aging and then not really doing anything else until the blood is lost via fighting the heroes. This would explain both the dark coloration and why this symptom is directly tied to the evil dark magic and the associated power boost.

Anyway they probably just have discolored blood for evil dark magic aesthetic purposes, which is also cool, but it was fun to try to create an explanation.

#linkeduniverse #linked universe #panels taken from:#Shifting Shadows part 7 #Threatening Shadows part 2 #Deep Shadows part 2

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ckret2 · 1 year

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Editing's going faster now. Here's chapter four of The Mystery Shack Takes Human Bill Cipher Prisoner. (Real title TBD.) Chapters one, two, and three.

####

In the middle of the night, Ford knocked on the attic door: "Eye check!"

Mabel and Dipper groaned.

"No complaining! This is for everyone's safety." Ford opened the attic door. "This will be the last one before Stanley and I take over guard duty, you can get some uninterrupted sleep then."

Mabel squinted up at Ford's flashlight with her blanket pulled up to her nose. Dipper groggily sat up as Ford inspected his eyes, but then he snatched the flashlight. "You too."

"Good thinking, Dipper. I know I'm me, but the rest of you shouldn't take my word for it." Ford crouched by the bed and let Dipper shine the flashlight in his eyes.

"Okay, clear." Dipper handed it back.

Mabel yawned. "What if Bill got colored contacts? We wouldn't be able to tell he's in someone's head, right?"

Ford froze halfway out the attic doorway. "Nobody go back to sleep! I need to do another eye check!"

The entire household groaned.

####

Once Soos reassured the Pines that Bill was "Still sleeping like a creepy, tied-up baby," he and Melody went to bed as Stan and Ford took over guard duty.

Usually, the cellar was one of the least interesting rooms in the shack. A water heater, a washing machine, storage for some old furniture and electronics. But when Stan and Ford opened the cellar doors, the first thing Ford's flashlight beam fell on was the body of Bill's puppet, face covered in a cloud of hair, curled up small on the bare mattress at the bottom of the stairs. The bright yellow and purple in the dull room was as shocking as a scream.

Ford quickly turned his flashlight off. He stood stock still on the top step.

Stan locked the doors behind them. "So, uh. Do you wanna just... stay up here?"

Ford nodded stiffly. "That seems wise. It keeps us between him and the only exit."

"Yeah. Smart thinking."

They sat on the stairs together.

Even with the flashlight off, Ford couldn't stop seeing the figure curled up below—invisible in the dark but nevertheless vividly, dreadfully imagined. It changed the room, transforming it into a tomb. The walls seemed to tilt in on the unconscious, unseen silhouette, forcing Ford and Stan toward the thing that wanted them dead.

After about fifteen minutes, Ford was on the verge of being driven insane by his own heartbeat pounding in his ears, when the cellar's silence was interrupted by a soft shuffling-creaking on the mattress below.

Ford elbowed Stan. Stan snorted and started awake. "Huh—what—?"

"Shh!"

There was more shuffling, then a groan. A high, fearful, feminine voice called out, "Wh... where am I? Am I tied up? What happened? What—"

Ford turned his flashlight on. The person on the mattress flinched, blinking heavily at the sudden light. "Hello? Wh-who are you? How did I get here, what do you want with me?"

"All right, calm down," Ford said brusquely. "Tell me, what do you remember?"

"I..." The person on the mattress frowned in concentration. "It's a blur. The last thing I remember is this... weird dream about a golden triangle?"

Ford exchanged a glance with Stan. "What did the triangle do?"

"I think he offered me some kind of bargain? After that, I'm not sure... I think I remember sleepwalking—"

"That was Hebrew," Ford said. "You speak fluent Hebrew?"

The person below blinked. "Jewish school?"

Stan snorted.

"Fine," Ford said. "Where are you from?"

"You mean, before all this? Arizona—I'm from Sedona—how far am I from home—?"

"And," Ford said, "that was Latin." Stan wheezed.

Open mouth. Shut mouth. Open. "I... majored in classical studies—"

"Give it up, Bill."

The expression of innocent fear melted away into a tired, almost bored look. "Ha. All right, I'm too tired to talk my way out of this one." Bill's voice sounded like him again. "It was worth a shot." He struggled in his restraints to roll over. "Turn off the light, would ya? My head's killing me."

"Leave it on," Stan said.

Without looking at them, Bill said, "I can make my voice very annoying."

Stan said, "Leave it on, and I'll get a sock and duct tape."

Ford turned off the flashlight.

When Bill had been unconscious, he'd been a vague, undefined threat. The dark seemed different now. Less frightening. Knowing Bill was awake made it easier to remember what he was:

A pest. A nuisance. A pain in the keister.

Stan quietly pantomimed chucking something at Bill's head, then muttered under his breath, "I don't know why he's tired. He's almost got a full night's sleep."

"I don't know if he's ever controlled a human body for this long," Ford said. "Much less been magically trapped in one by a unicorn belt. Maybe prolonged psychic puppetry drains his energy—"

"Or maybe he's a wimp," Stan cut in. "That's what I was going for, I'm suggesting he's a wimp."

Ford snorted quietly. "Or he's a wimp."

There was no sound from below. Either Bill had already fallen back asleep, or he was doing a darn good job of pretending he had. For a moment, Stan and Ford remained silent, listening.

Then Ford stood, unlocked the door, and quietly left.

####

There was a clatter at the attic window. Dipper and Mabel both immediately bolted upright, fully alert—they'd never quite gotten back to sleep—and exchanged a terrified look.

There was a second sharp tap. They scrambled out of bed, peered out the window—and then flung it open. "Wendy!"

Wendy froze in the middle of winding up to throw another stone. "Hey! Dipper, Mabel! I couldn't sleep, I was worried about you guys. Is your secret weird paranormal thing over?"

Dipper and Mabel leaned out of the window. They were wearing pajamas and matching tin foil hats.

Wendy stared at them. "I'm... taking that as a no." She bit her lip to keep from laughing. "You guys look exhausted."

Mabel groaned. "It's been keeping us up all night. It's impossible to lay down with tin foil on your head?"

"And we've been getting checked on every couple hours," Dipper said.

"Plus it might not be safe to sleep!"

"And—" Dipper grimaced. "And we can't even talk about it until it's over..."

"Okay, yeah, got it," Wendy said. "Secret family business, it's cool. Just—reassure me that you guys are safe? I don't want you to get eaten by a T-Rex-nado or something before we get to hang this summer."

Were they safe? They exchanged a look. Mabel tilted her head and shrugged uncertainly. Dipper said, "The threat... is... securely contained."

That time, Wendy did burst out laughing. "Okay! I'll accept that. I already told Soos, but—call me if you need backup, all right?"

Mabel stuck a thumbs up out the window. "You got it!"

"Thanks, Wendy."

"I'll see you in the morning if the Mystery Shack's open," Wendy said. "If not... I dunno, my day'll be free, maybe we can do something? If you don't have to deal with the contained threat."

"Yeah, that sounds great," Mabel said. "I'm gonna see Grenda and Candy sometime tomorrow, buuut I don't think Dipperhas anything planned—"

Dipper kicked her ankle. She kicked his back, grinning.

"Awesome. See you tomorrow, then."

When Wendy had biked away, Dipper said, "You're not gonna spend all summer teasing me about last summer's crush, are you?"

"Nooo, I'm not, I promise! But I had to get one in." Mabel laughed and flopped heavily on her bed. The old mattress springs wheezed. "Besides! I know your heart belongs to that girl at the judo club who likes you."

"Mabel, I don't—" Dipper paused. "Do you really think Kelsey likes me?"

Mabel laughed. "Good night, Dipper."

Dipper shut the window. They both got back in bed, slid under their covers, and stared at the ceiling. And stared at the ceiling. And stared at the ceiling.

"Pssst. Dipper."

"What is it?"

"I can't sleep. Can you?"

A heavy sigh. "No." Voice low, as if afraid they could be heard all the way from the cellar, Dipper said, "I just keep wondering—did we really trap him in that tourist before he escaped? Or did we lose as soon as he fainted?"

Mabel kicked off her covers, sat up, and turned to face Dipper, hugging her knees. "Actually, I think we did trap him. I... kinda think Bill can't escape?"

Dipper sat up as well. "What do you mean?"

"You remember how I wrestled him when he was you?" Mabel asked. "Your body was really, really cold. Like, dead-cold. But when I was drawing on Bill's face, his skin felt..."

"... Normal." Dipper had spent six hours tackling Bill. When he'd been trying grip Bill's arms and ankles so he couldn't flail free, Dipper hadn't noticed anything unusual about Bill's body—but that was unusual, wasn't it?

"Yeah. Normal. What if he's not controlling somebody? What if he, I dunno, turned himself human to avoid getting killed? Like a unicorn."

"Unicorns don't do that."

"They can if a wizard helps! That's not the point. The point is..." Mabel struggled to put her mountain of emotions into words, and finally, simply finished, "... what if he's just a human now?"

They both had to sit with the suggestion, waiting to see if it filled them with relief or dread. A human was less powerful than whatever Bill had been; but in some way, the human body shielded Bill, too, making it impossible to properly confront and defeat him.

"What if his human body is like a Trojan horse?" Dipper asked. "And this was all a big trick, and he's just—waiting inside it? For one of the remaining micro-rifts to the Nightmare Realm to widen, or—or the perfect moment to return to his real body?"

Mabel hugged her knees a little tighter. "But if he could leave the body any time he wants, do you think he'd be patient enough to just wait?"

"He was patient enough to wait billions of years to get into our universe."

"I don't think that counts. He wasn't biding his time, he was stuck. He would've gotten here sooner if he could have."

"Then... I don't know."

That was just it. They didn't know.

They didn't want to talk about the dread pooling in their stomachs and creeping up the backs of their necks. They didn't want to talk about their anger—the injustice that he was back, that this wasn't over, that another summer was going to be overshadowed by him.

But if they weren't talking about that, what else could they talk about? It was all they could think about. For a moment, they just sat together in silence.

Which was when they heard Ford yelp in alarm.

####

Soos had answered the knock on his bedroom door holding a baseball bat.

Ford drew back, hands raised. "Soos, it's me! What's this for?"

"Sorry. It's been a crazy night. I keep having dreams about the Roman Senate assassinating Bill? Like, Julius Caesar, except he's a triangle?" Soos put the bat down. "Anyway, what's up? Is it time for another eye check?"

"Yes, but that's not the main reason I'm here."

Still in bed, Melody groaned, "Are all these really necessary?"

Soos had to use his fingers to hold his eyes open for Ford's flashlight. "'Fraid so. Bill's really good at taking over people. He's got Dipper, he's got Ford... One time he got me! That doesn't really count though, it was in a dream. Kinda."

"All right, you're clean." Ford looked at Melody, decided that since he'd had confirmation that Bill was still in the body in the cellar it might be a little too rude to examine a half-asleep young woman in bed, and offered the flashlight to Soos so he could check his fiancée instead. "What I really came up here to say is that Bill woke up. Now we know he's still in that body."

("Melody, have I told you lately that you have really pretty eyes?" "Awww, Soos.")

Ford cleared his throat. "Stan's 'friends' are waiting. Time to gag him and go."

Soos's expression hardened. (It wasn't terribly intimidating.) "I'll get the sock and duct tape."

Melody rubbed the spots from her eyes. "Are you up for this? You've got a long drive, and you've been up all night looking at everybody's eyes."

"Bill's given me worse sleep deprivation than this," Ford said wryly. "I'll be fine."

"You're sure? If you need someone to help drive..."

"Melody, you're an angel for helping as much as you have. Especially when none of this is your problem yet." Even though she occasionally spent the night with Soos, she wouldn't be moving into the shack until after the wedding and honeymoon, which they'd scheduled for after the summer tourist rush. "And I know you have reservations about—how we're handling this."

Melody shrugged ruefully. "I mean—I don't like that you've got the demon triangle in your cellar, but Soos says you're some kind of insane space wizard and an expert on this stuff, so..." In the dim light, she flashed Ford a strained smile. "Just—I guess—tell me if there's anything else I can do to help prevent the apocalypse."

Insane space wizard. Ford hoped that was a compliment. "Just hold down the fort while we're moving Bill. Thank you."

####

Dipper and Mabel pulled their ears away from the attic door. Dipper whispered, "Anything could go wrong while they're moving Bill. Do you think we should...?"

"Pfff!" Mabel rolled her eyes. "C'mon bro, is that even a question?"

Dipper smiled wanly.

Wordlessly, they put on their backpacks—already packed—and pulled sweaters on over their pajamas, and tiptoed downstairs with their shoes in their hands.

####

Ford inspected Stan's eyes again before he said, "Soos will be down in a minute."

Stan blinked the lights out of his eyes. "You'd better not keep doing that while I'm driving." He shut the door so that if Bill woke back up, he couldn't listen in on their plans to relocate him.

"You're not going to be driving. I am."

"Come on! It's my car!"

"It's night, you have cataracts, and you already fell asleep during guard duty."

"I wasn't asleep, I was resting my eyes!"

"In the dark?" Ford asked. "Would you prefer Soos or me?"

Stan grumbled and crossed his arms, but decided he wasn't going to win this fight. He nudged Ford and changed the topic. "Now, that Latin was all Greek to me—but is it just me, or is his Hebrew better than yours?"

He was saying it to be annoying. Ford knew he was trying to be annoying. It worked. Ford was annoyed. "Well—of course he's better. He's probably been speaking it three thousand years. And his accent's probably just as old."

"Ah, excuses. Bet his Latin's better, too."

He was doing it on purpose. He was doing it on purpose. "You wouldn't know Latin from Latvian!"

"This isn't about me." Stan gave Ford his most annoying shit-eating grin. "Hey—when did you pick up Latin, anyway?"

At least he wasn't teasing anymore. "I needed to complete an undergrad foreign language requirement."

"You just couldn't go for something useful that living people speak, huh?"

"On the contrary, Latin's been enormously useful in my study of weirdness. It's very popular with sorcerers and occultists alike," Ford said. "And it got us out of that bar brawl in Atlantis, didn't it?"

"That gobbledygook was Latin? I thought it was some kind of mermaid language. Or Italian," Stan said. "Well, whaddaya know? Good job going to the only college in the world teaching Conversational Latin, I guess."

Ford grimaced. "Actually... I just learned to read and write Latin at Backupsmore. The only reason I can speak it... is Bill."

An uncomfortable silence settled over them, the way it always did when Stan asked where'd you pick up—? or how'd you learn about—? and Ford had to say Bill. It was an answer that demanded more questions that Stan didn't really want to ask and Ford didn't really want to answer. Usually, when Ford said Bill, Stan changed the topic.

But burying the topic was harder when Bill was less than twenty feet away. Stan shifted his weight from one foot to the other, his gaze on the weeds sprouting in the shack's parking lot. "You've said he used to be your friend. You didn't mean like when you call a guy a 'friend' because you don't hate running into him twice a year at the grocery store. Did you?"

Ford got the impression that Stan wanted to believe Bill had just been a cordial acquaintance. Ford wished. He shook his head.

Stan clicked his tongue. "You know, I never got the impression you were 'friends' when I was reading your journals. He just seemed like another of your random... demon-fairy acquaintances."

"I ripped out the other pages about him."

"There were more?"

Ford's head burned with shame. He'd waxed poetic—called him divine, blessed, a miracle, a muse—been inspired to draw sunrises and constellations because a mere drawing of an eye in a triangle couldn't convey the all-encompassing awe Ford's muse filled him with—and all that for what? A two-dimensional two-bit con artist who'd been slumming it in the lawless no man's land between civilized dimensions, now chained up on a dingy mattress in Ford's cellar.

Stan had a right to know—but it was hard to admit just how enraptured Ford had been by an interdimensional grifter. Hard to admit nothing else had enraptured him so much since. Nothing sparkled quite like fool's gold. "We can talk once he's gone."

Stan paused. "Yeah. That's probably better."

####

Apparently Bill really had fallen asleep again that fast, because he didn't stir as the Pines and Soos gagged him and carried him into the back of Stan's car. Soos sat in the back with his baseball bat and Bill, and Ford and Stan silently envied him for not having to turn his back on Bill. The car pulled away from the Mystery Shack with its headlights off.

Moments later, Dipper and Mabel followed on bikes.

####

#wendy corduroy #mabel pines #dipper pines #(for the art)#bill cipher #human bill cipher #(for the fic)#(ironically bill does the least out of anyone this chapter but like it's ABOUT him)#gravity falls #gravity falls fic #fanfic #bill goldilocks cipher #my writing

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marydublinauthor · 3 months

Text

Shot in the Dark releases May 14, 2024!! EXCERPT BELOW 👇🏼

After all these years, Jon Cliff and Sylvia are getting a NEW debut in this 4-6 book series where fairies, hunters, found family and forbidden romance collide. If you’ve read our shorts over the years here and even enjoyed the original 2013 release, you will LOVE this. @kendsleyauthor and I worked so hard on making it epic and more polished than ever before.

I know we’ve been more quiet on here as we struggle to keep up with all our platforms and personal life (mental health struggles suck y’all lol) BUT we truly can’t wait for you to read this.

Updates:

Preorder coming later this month!

If you review books, sign up to be an Arc Reader and help boost our book’s visibility! You get to read a free electronic copy of the book before official release in exchange for an honest review

Add to Goodreads and Storygraph now (also helps us!)

More to come— But for now, enjoy this juicy excerpt from JON’S POV! 💕

“Every non-human I’ve ever met only causes pain and death,” I said. “They want us to bleed by their very nature. But… you haven’t tried anything. You haven’t tried to kill us, seduce us into selling our souls, or trap us in an eternal nightmare. I don’t understand you.”

The fairy’s eyes widened, and she scoffed at me. “Well, forgive me for confusing you by not being a murderer. How can someone like you be remotely afraid of me?”

“Looks can be deceiving.”

“And sometimes, they’re exactly what they are,” she fired back.

I didn’t wrestle off the tired, wry smile that came to my lips. “For someone the size of a mouse, you’ve got a lot of spirit.”

Her green eyes flickered, raking me up and down. Her posture softened like she was slowly seeing less of a snarling animal in me. “If you weren’t a hunter,” she said. “I might actually accept that as a compliment.”

“That’s a shame, then.”

“It is.” She sniffed, looking away pointedly.

The tug in my chest resurfaced—I couldn’t let her sleep thinking I might smother her before she awoke. She had to know we were going to release her. Somehow, it mattered to me that I wouldn’t stay a complete monstrosity in her eyes.

“I lied to you,” she announced, halting my train of thought.

I drew in a sharp breath and leaned away from her slightly. She didn’t appear to be priming herself to attack, but I stayed wary all the same. “What is it?” I asked.

“I…” She wet her lips and wrestled with herself. “I was there the night before you caught me. There were two humans. They didn’t see me, but I heard them. They… mentioned that hunters might be after them—”

“What?” I blurted, crowding toward her.

She cringed away, casting a wild look around the room for an escape.

“Hey.” I lowered my voice. “I’m not gonna hurt you. Look at me.”

Hesitantly, she did.

“You can tell me,” I assured. “It’s alright. What did they look like? What’d they say? Any names?”

“I couldn’t see their faces, and I don’t think I heard any names, but… I’m starting to think one of them was your monster. I’ve never been near one before, but something felt horribly wrong.”

“What does that mean?”

“There’s this… ability I have. A sort of instinct.” Each word fell from her lips hesitantly as though any one of them might set me off. “I can sense non-humans and other beings that you would consider unnatural. It’s meant to help my kind steer clear of those things. Maybe I could point you in the right direction if you take me back to that old house. But if I do that, you’ll have to let me go. Does that sound like a fair deal?”

Desperate hope painted her face. It was a little heartbreaking. I considered telling her I planned to release her regardless of what she offered, but it was a tempting ability to make use of.

“Why didn’t you say something about this earlier?” I asked.

Fresh, uncertain tears welled in her eyes. “I thought you’d kill me if I told you everything. You wouldn’t have a use for me anymore. And then, I thought if I admitted I lied…”

“You thought we’d kill you for that,” I finished. “So why admit it now?”

She shrugged, mumbling, “You didn’t lock me in the microwave. That counts for something, I suppose.”

After pondering her offer, I nodded. “Okay. We have a deal. You help us at the house, and you’re free to go.”

“Free to go immediately after,” she said, pointing a finger at me. “Swear that you won’t enslave me.”

I scoffed. “That didn’t even cross my mind.”

“Not even for a second?” She frowned suspiciously. “When was the last time you negotiated with a non-human? Stars, when’s the last time you spared a non-human?” When I couldn’t come up with an answer, she made a small noise of contempt.

“Fine,” I said. “I promise there’s no strings attached after you help us. But we’re not going anywhere until Cliff comes back with the car, so we may as well get some rest.”

#shot in the dark #gt #g/t #gt writing #support indie authors #fairies #giant/tiny #indie authors #jon and sylvia #Jon pov

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voxxisms · 1 month

Text

vague wishlist thread ideas sorted by character (types?) i have some thoughts sometimes about things i wanna do with vox, plots && ideas. some of these are vague or more specific, && some are just settings or aus. putting a cut for dashboard sake. might link in pinned, will tag appropriately. might add more later.

general interactions / with anyone

vox at the hotel in either seeking redemption or as an investor

vox being injured or your muse fighting him in some capacity

vox stepping in to protect your muse with the goal of taking advantage of the dynamic. soul contract / employment or even just general favor owing

redeemed vox in heaven?? hello?

overpowered au content. this post sorta explains the vibes. he's super paranoid, very powerful, but surprisingly easy to be chill with if you behave well.

role swap vox with anyone literally. the only real one ive considered is alastor, in depth. he's an old - fashioned box head, perfectly modern inside for efficiency but looks like he belongs in the decades he lived in. very gentle, very empathetic && sweet. contracted to lilith (mine unless someone else wants to contract him) && helps the hotel.

vox being contracted to someone else.

arranged marriages / marriages of convenience

human verse stuff!! from either when vox was alive (1898-1945) or i'm happy to play with timelines in aus

bridgerton au, vox is george taylor, a wildly sickly man with too much money && a rake mostly. a lord by blood.

hanahaki. unrequited love that gives them diseases, any ending.

his self - punishment room being discovered.

vox in therapy lmaoo

fake dating.

with valentino

valentino having to fix vox

their toxic / possibly sweet relationship when they're on

vox being jealous / possessive

a break up?? if they're on / off it feels like something that happens a lot, i find them fun to write

marry each other smh tax benefits or domestic, either

valentino saving vox / vox saving valentino

with velvette

vox saving her in any way

her having to fix him post a fight or something else

vox modeling for her

ship stuff is fine, just as like, qpr stuff or mentorships

vox being over protective even if he really shouldnt be

with charlie

vox investing in the hotel for any reason (be it her askance, his own idea, or someone else's, or even seeking redemption ). might be genuine, probably more for info gathering

vox offering to personally assist in repairing the hotel

vox saving charlie from danger for fun bc its always good to have someone owe him something

with husk

knowing husk in his overlord times ( pre show / au )

vox having invested in husk's casino

vox being husk's contract holder for some reason?? could be fun

vox n husk fake dating for any reason i saw art for it once listen

with lucifer

vox seeking lucifer's creation expertise in early years (he was an entrepreneur once)

vox doing work / helping with lulu world being created as resident like, electronics man

vox making a deal with lucifer in some capacity, not necessarily Big Deal but you know

with angel

vox protecting him

vox saving him from valentino's ire (on acccident or otherwise)

vox having to step in for valentino on set lmaooo

angel && vox bonding over their similar experiences with val

vox caring for angel post a valentino encounter

angel for some reason being under contract with vox (different work/different expectations)

with rosie

the two having been close during vox's active relationship with alastor?

vox doing business with rosie / i.e. providing her with bodies or people from his territory in exchange for allyship

him investing in cannibal town somehow. owning property / providing funds for rennovation

tea parties?? him cooking for her?? her teaching him how to make cannibal - based food??

with alastor

alastor having been a mentor to early - hell vox

au in which the two have always remained working together, i love the concept. very media husbands coded but also not necessary to be romantic.

all the backstory, their friendship pre - show, especially the event that actually led them to split. i like to hc that they several things that slowly pushed them apart until vox invited him to the vee's right before alastor disappeared (this is dependent of course on the alastor / those hcs but)

au where alastor actually joined the vee's

au where vox offered alastor his soul in exchange for them remaining "friends". does not have to be a very sweet dynamic ofc

vox cooking for alastor / other vaguely domestic things

generally reconciling bc yknow

vox dying!! in alastor's arms!! or the other way around!! (not necessarily permanent but yknow)

RadioStatic of all flavors, unrequited/unspoken/QPR/exes/anything.

the role swap from above.

with other vox's i love duplicate interactions

the girls are fighting

playing into the doubling && working together

vox trying to help the other vox get back home properly

other vox (or himself) being a clone on purpose

upgrading / fixing each other

protecting each other

left brain right brain vibes???

au swaps? a role reversal vox meeting a regular vox? timeline swaps? one vox is from the 70's one vox is from modern times? one vox who is still friends with alastor && the other who isn't?

#【 THE BATTERIES ARE DOWN | ( OOC ). 】#【 HEART BEATS FAST | ( WISHLIST ). 】#【 LEE ONE && ONLY | ( AUTHOR ). 】#this took a long time sorry

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igotanidea · 2 years

Text

Instincts: Dick Grayson x reader

I never wanted to do this.

It was not my intention to jump in front of Nightwing and take the impact of the force aimed at him, but years and years of training made my instincts kick in and it just happened.

“Protect them. Protect the team” was what I learnt.

Or maybe I was just trying to convince myself that it was just this sentence carved inside my brain and nothing beyond.

The truth was, however, that Dick was more than just a friend. At least to me, since it was purely one-sided and I was never his type. But when the danger came I did not hesitate to step on. Would I do the same for Dawn or Donna? Probably yes, but the motives of such action would be utterly different then with Dick.

And now, laying on the ground with blood dripping from stomach, I felt the rest of my consciousness drift away and before I gave in to the overwhelming darkness, the last thing I could hear was a scream of my name and someone was running towards me…….

***

I was born with some …. unique abilities that allowed to some sort of energy bending. It was like I felt it pulsing everywhere around me, coming from people, nature, electronic devices. I was like a plug connecting to the source of it and channeling it through myself into different object or forming it into burst of energy. For example I could draw sparks of power from one person and give it to someone else, who needed it more. A bit of exchange you may say. But my favorite trick was creating energy shields. All it took was focusing my own inner strength and forcing it out, forming protection. Smaller or bigger, differently shaped, depending on circumstances. It was cool, but as it usually happens in such events I knew that people would consider me a freak if they ever found out, so I kept it to myself. Of course, at some point people realized there was some strange occurrences and energy spikes every time I was around (in my defense : it was hard to control at the beginning, what can you expect from a 9 year old kid who has supernatural powers?). Due to that my parents decided it would be best to …. send me away, for a while…. Which soon became years and after 6 of them I lost hope they will ever come back for me. I was put in foster care with many other kids, trying my best to keep the abilities I was given away, staying in the shadows, by myself, being focused on my own things, not really forming any true relationship. But at nights…. At nights I used to sneak out the house into the streets of Gotham, feeling the energy rise and getting on top of the buildings to practice channeling (as I used to call it) to the point where I became perfect at it. Those were the moments when I felt like myself.

During one of my escapades I met Robin, Batman’s sidekick. Apparently, boys got into some sort of fight and for some crazy reason, absolutely coincidentally, he used my building to get some steam off.

“Hey, easy on that.” I blocked one of his R-shaped shurikens flying my direction “you may hurt someone”

“That is kind of the point.”

“You are Robin, aren’t you?”

“And who may you be?” he eyed me through the mask

“Oh, no one important. Just some mutant, practicing …..”

“Practicing what?”

“Energy bending.” I shrugged

“What?” his eyes grow wide at my words.”

“It’s nothing special, really…. Just …. You know what, let me show you. give me your hand.”

“Why?”

“Just do it. It’s not like I could hurt you.”

“Fine, but no funny bussisness” he stuck the hand and I drew some energy from him, transforming it into the biggest and strongest shield I ever made so far.

“You got a lot of anger inside, don’t you?”

“I don’t really want to talk about it.”

“It’s fine. You don’t have to. I just know some better use for this” I pointed at my work in front of us.

“How safe is this?” he asked taking a step towards the shield

“Never failed me before.”

“Are you trained by someone?”

“No.” I shook my head “no one really knows it. Back in the days…. I was considered a freak, so you know, I’m not a fan of showing off.”

“But you should be trained” he insisted

“By who, Robin? By Batman?” I mocked

“Actually this may be a good idea” someone spoke from behind me and out of instincts I threw a blast of energy towards the freaking Batman himself....

***

Luckily he did not take offence. If anything he took me in, so since that accident on the rooftop I became a part of the bat-family, being raised and trained with Robin, I mean Dick. He was complicated one, full of contradictions. Deeply caring, but always ready to push you away. Full of anger but sensitive inside. Looking for a friend but never ready to talk about the things that worried him. Complex, multi-layered and most probably that was the thing that was drawing me into him and his constantly buzzing energy. It was hard for me to admit that I felt hard for him, but as usual, I kept it all inside, making use of that feeling during training. And it worked since I was getting better and stronger. There was also Wonder Girl, Donna. She and I connected with the speed of light, since we were fairly similar, both sarcastic and snarky, trusting our guts, always prepared. The difference was that Donna was full of self-confidence, ready to jump into action without inhibitions and always, always getting her way. Perfect at executing plans which in my case stayed only on paper. With such friend I should never feel left out, right? And to be honest, they never made me feel like I was less than them. But that was how I felt. Dick and Donna were trained at fighting, skilled at hand to hand combat and many different styles and techniques of sparring. No matter how hard I tried I could never compare. I was good, just not good enough to go into first line of fighting. Instead my job was to protect them with my powers.

“It’s your duty to keep them safe, you hear me?” Bruce told me once. “You do not engage into direct combat, do you understand?”

Of course I did. How could I not. And I did protect them, always, at any cost. Making it my sole purpose so I could feel like I belonged. But I never did despite Wonder Girl and Bird Boy best efforts.

“You are a member of the team, YN” Donna told me, catching up on my doubts “and you are our friend. Without you I would never survive Dick’s attitude.” She smirked

“Hey!” Dick interrupted her “I don’t like it at all, but she’s right. You are a good person and we need you.”

“Just so I can protect you, right? That’s it.”

“Oh, stop it, YN. You are so much more than what you do. You keep me sane, and you keep Dick in check since you’re probably the only person he sometimes listens to.”

“Yeah, right, thanks guys.”

*** It worked this way for some time, but eventually we all had to grow up. Donna stopped being Wonder Girl, since in her own words she wanted to see what Donna Troy could give the world. And Dick…. Dick broke my heart, a couple of times, getting into a few relationships and finally getting cold feet and running away leaving Gotham, Bruce, his alter ego and me behind. I stayed because where else could I go. But I never forgot. I knew he was fully aware of my feelings and I hated him playing around with them. I said my goodbyes and moved on as well as he did, thinking we would never meet again. But life is funny.

Dick got himself into troubles, finding girl with some demonic powers, a hot-headed woman gifted with solar abilities and a shapeshifter game-addicted boy. A lot of complications made him turn to the old friends for advice, the old friend being Donna, and purely by accident, me, since he caught us together on the varnishing day. Donna became quite a successful photographer, Dick was a detective and I focused on some scientific work and writing. That was quiet a catch up and there was something different in him and in the way he looked at me.

“I missed you” he told me casually eyeing me with some unrecognizable look and I froze at the spot. No, not again. Been there, done that, but seemed like feelings for him where still there.

***

So the band was back together, add a couple of members and consider the fact Dick was now Nightwing not Robin, and we were fighting alongside once again.

And despite everything I still got those schemes of thinking carved in my brain. “Protect them. Protect the team. So I did. All of them, Rachel, Gar, Kori…. And Dick. This idiot got into a fight and being so sure he won turned around to the rest of us, smirking as if he just proved a point, not really checking it. Biggest mistake since the allegedly defeated opponent came at his back ready to kill.

“NO!” I yelled running forward, pushing the energy out, trying to shield him, but I did not have enough time. Instead of energy flow I only managed to create a beam, not enough to cover myself. However, I managed to hit the villain with it and this time neutrilising him for good as he fell to the ground. “I made it.” I thought but was quickly brought down on earth as something thick and hot started flowing from my stomach. Blood. A lot of blood. “Oh, shit” was my last though before I felt dizziness and darkness around. Before I drifted away I heard someone screaming my name and running towards me, preventing me from hitting the ground and laying me down gently. And then … then it was just nothing.

***

Third person pov

“YN!” Dick yelled pulling hair from her face and placing her head on his lap “No!” anger was so visible on his face and heard in his tone it got everyone more scared than usual of Nightwing's rage. “Please, no….. Take the energy from me, I know you can use it to help yourself. Please, don’t die on me... “ his grip became tighter and more desperate as he felt more blood dripping from her body and her life slowly fading “Please….” He sobbed feeling helpless and pathetic.

“Dick!?” Rachel came out of nowhere and rushed towards the boy and dying girl “What happened?! What did she do?”

“What she was always learned to do.” Donna came closer too, clutching on her friend’s other hand “Protected the team.”

“But why me?” Dick asked tearily “why didn’t she protect herself?”

“You are such an idiot, Boy Wonder” Donna would smack his forehead if the circumstances were different “she loves you, dumbass. She always did. Don’t act like you did not know.”

“I…. I love her too” he muttered almost inaudible but the girls heard the words.

“You should have told her.”

“I was scared”

“Of what you bunch of feathers?!” now Donna really did smack him

“Of losing her!”

“Well, look where it got you!”

“Guys!” Rachel yelled getting their attention and stopping their battering “She’s gonna be fine. I healed her.” The girl pointed at the place where bloody wound should be. “But she’s weak, she needs rest, so maybe we should get out of here.”

“You’re right” Dick stood up picking YN and holding her close to his chest. He wanted her to feel the warmth and safety while being in his arms and knew her abilities would provide it. Nightwing was dead set on never letting her get hurt because of him or even in his presence. Now, it was his job to protect her.

*** Back to first person pov

I couldn’t remember what happened, but when I opened my eyes I was lying in bed instead of being on a battle field. I tried to move but there was a sharp sting in the back of my stomach and I fell back onto the cushions with a gasp of pain.

”Fuck!” I moaned as the memories came back. Wait, the memories, the fight, the villain. Was Dick safe… Was he …..

“YN, hey, don’t. You got hurt, you need rest. Lay back down” a warm hand was placed on my waist putting me back into bed.

“Are you… are you alright?” I asked looking at Dick with fear and as he nodded I exhaled deeply “I’m glad.”

“Are you?”

“I’m alive.” I shrugged and the pain stung me again “Guess it’s Rachel doing, am I right. I owe her great thanks. I need to talk to her….” I tried to get up but he gently stopped me again, now both his hands on my waist and he was leaning closer. “Dick?” that was a bit uncomfortable and there was something off with the way his heart was beating. I could feel his adrenaline, energy and …. something more. “Let me go.” I commanded but it came weaker that intended.

“No.” he simply said and a second later his lips was on mine. This was real, but somehow so much better than I imagined. The kiss, as much as Dick was so full of contradictions. Soft and gentle, caring and testing but at the same time passionate and heated and clearly going for more.

“Wait.” I pulled away not ready to be played with again. “What is this about? What are doing?”

“Kissing you.” he said a bit surprised.

“I noticed, but why? What’s the game you’re playing?”

“I hurt you a lot, didn’t I?”

“You’re not making any sense, Dick.”

“I’m sorry” he grabbed my hand gently caressing it with his thumb and the temperature in the room just became a bit hotter. Crazy how the kissing did not make me hot and this simple, caring gesture did.

“What…..?” I started but he cut me

“I must have hurt you since now that I’m admitting how much I love you, you think I’m fooling around….” He looked down, avoiding my gaze.

“You what now?” I could not believe the words he said

“I almost lost you.” Dick closed his eyes but opened them quickly. “And that made me realize I never told you how I really feel. And I should have done it. A long, long time ago...” Last words were barely a whisper

“How long?” I grabbed his chin and made him look at me “How long did you have them? Those feelings?”

“Years.” He admitted involuntarily

“How classic” I muttered “that almost-death experience got it out of you.”

“YN….”

“Why? Why run into arms of Dawn and then Kori and who knows who else?” I should have been happy, right? So why I felt the pain and anger and unfairness of it all?

“I tried to forget about how I felt. You were a teammate. This was a leverage, a threat. If I were to lose focus while on field…..” he shook his head.

"From what I know Dawn were a teammate as well. And so is Kori" I hissed and sighed deeply “You should have told me Grayson."

“This would have changed everything between us.”

“And doesn’t it now?” I asked and let the question hang for a while

“Do you feel the same?” he tried to change the subject

“You did not answer my question!”

“You didn’t answer mine!”

“I asked you first!”

“I asked you second”

“Will you two just quit it and confess to each other?” Donna came through the door “Come on you two, thin walls!” she rolled her eyes and disappeared again leaving us a bit ashamed, looking at the floor. None of us wanted this little burst popped and all the team included in our personal affairs.

“It’s different this time.” Dick sighed answering.

“Good to see some things never change. It’s still so damn hard to get information out of you detective” I crossed my arms looking at him expectanly

“Bruce is not around this time. You know that he would have ruined this relationship before it even started."

“That’s a fair point” I admitted “and it’s only fair if I give you the answer too.” suddenly I became shy “I do .... I share the feelings for you, feather boy.Robin.Nightwing.Dick.Whoever you are or choose to be. ”

“Good” he leaned again and captured my lips in a short, chaste kiss “now scoot over."

“Why?” I did not bother but he just grabbed me and made me move.

“I’m going to lay next to you.”

“Dick, what are you…..?”

“Shh. Not a word. Just come here” he motioned for me to come closer and as I did he closed his arms around me pulling me in. “How does it feel?”

“Safe. You make me feel safe.” I muttered into his chest enjoying his warmth presence so close to me.

“Good. Because that is the only thing you will be feeling next to me from now on” he kissed the top of my head “safe and loved. Those are just natural instincts with you.”

@pinksirensong @somest1

#dick grayson #dc titans #nightwing #nightwing x reader #nightwing x oc #nightwing fanfiction #nightwing x y/n #dick grayson x reader #dick grayson x oc #dick grayson imagine #dick grayson fanfiction #dc x you #dc x reader #dc imagine

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versoesescritas · 4 months

Text

Love The Way You Lie (Aaliyah Amrohi x Cruz Manuelos)

The white-painted facade is lit up in blue that night. Cruz Manuelos has no difficulty in accessing the interior of the hotel, mixing with some tourists who stroll around. She enters the elevator and squeezes the eleventh floor, watching the doors close.

While one of the various elevators takes the American agent to her target, the Egyptian agent Aaliyah Amrohi walks through the hotel’s huge reception, smiling at whoever crosses her path. She approaches the huge counter where only a receptionist is working.

“Quiet night, Rajeev?!”

She tosses her hair to the side, staring at the 21-year-old who can barely look her in the eye.

“All quiet, ma'am.”

Aaliyah takes advantage of the boy’s distraction to observe around, deciding that that would be the night. She turns her attention to Rajeev.

“I just came to ask you to call me a taxi. I’m leaving today.”

The boy's hand immediately goes to the phone and after a few words exchanged, he puts the phone back on the hook.

“In fifteen minutes, ma'am.”

Long enough.

Aaliyah smiles at the boy’s efficiency that she’s used to observing during the week.

“Excellent. I'm just going up to get my bags and I'll come down now.”

The undercover agent goes to the elevator that just came down. She enters and presses the eleventh floor, watching the doors close and her mission reaches the final stage.

Cruz goes through each door on the floor, trying to hear any movement inside the rooms.

Apparently all empty.

She stops in front of room 100 and presses the password combination on the digital keypad, 7597. The door opens, she looks one last time at the empty corridor, enters and closes the door behind her.

*-*

The elevator opens and Aaliyah observes the long empty corridor. She walks stubbornly to room 100 and pulls out a magnetic card from her cargo pants pocket, inserting it into the electronic lock. The door opens and Aaliyah enters.

The room is empty and relatively tidy for a hotel room being used. Aaliyah approaches the double bed, noticing all the decoration in dark colors that gives a more imposing tone to the room.

Before Aaliyah makes it to the window, something or someone hits her leg and she jumps back, dodging the second blow. A woman rolls from under the bed and stands up, staring at Aaliyah. She barely has time to react before the other one attacks her with a clenched fist.

“What the fuck…”

Cruz hears the surprise in the other woman’s voice, but that doesn’t stop her. Cruz's fist hits the air as Aaliyah ducks and tries to trip Cruz who jumps back.

“Who are you?”

It's Cruz who asks, observing the agility with which the other gets back to her feet.

“I could ask the same thing. This is not your room.”

Cruz launches himself once again against Aaliyah who retreats, deflecting from every blow struck against her. She tries to hit the side of Cruz’s body with a kick but is blocked.

“You shouldn’t be here.”

Aaliyah feels her curiosity increase towards the woman who continues to speak.

“You really shouldn’t be here.”

Aaliyah smiles at the woman who appears to be talking to herself.

“I think we both went into the wrong room.”

Cruz looks at Aaliyah who winks at her. The two are distracted by looking at each other's faces, when they hear footsteps in the hallway and the doorknob being turned. Aaliyah's eyes widen and she pulls Cruz by the arm, opening the balcony door and closing it - the two hiding under the starlight.

Cruz breathes deeply and unwittingly takes the other woman’s citrus accent into her sense of smell. Suddenly, she realizes how close their bodies are. When Aaliyah stretches her neck to look inside the room, she gets a privileged view of the local.

Aaliyah watches the spy enter the bathroom and collect his belongings, throwing them into a backpack. He walks to the balcony door but his cell phone rings. He answers and she notices his gestures getting rushed. He gives up whatever he was thinking, takes his backpack and leaves the room.

Aaliyah releases her trapped breath and realizes the other body next to her. Her eyes meet the other woman's.

Cruz stares back into green or blue eyes or whatever color it is. She pushes the woman's body to the side and is finally able to clear her sense of smell with the fresh air.

“He's gone.”

“Of course he was.”

Cruz goes back into the room and to the door, trying to hear some movement outside.

Nothing.

Cruz looks back at Aaliyah who is checking the room looking for anything forgotten behind.

Nothing.

“We can leave that room and pretend that none of this happened.”

“Or you can tell me who you work for and I swear to keep it a secret.”

Aaliyah smiles knowing the absurd request she just made. Cruz approaches her.

“I can’t let you leave like this.”

Aaliyah tilts his head.

“I’m sorry about that.”

Cruz launches himself at Aaliyah who throws herself onto the bed, rolling to the other side. She takes advantage of Cruz's distraction to grab a tray from the bedside table and hits Cruz in the side of the head, who falls dazedly onto the bed.

Cruz holds her own head, seeing everything duplicated in front of her. She tries to get up to go after Aaliyah but all she can see is the other woman's figure opening the door and closing it.

Going away.

Cruz makes one last effort by pressing the button of a device hidden in her blazer. She falls into bed and gives in to the darkness that leads her to a dreamless sleep.

*-*

Aaliyah gets off in the same elevator she took moments before, this time with some bags. She approaches Rajeev at reception and leaves her own key to room 102 on the counter.

“Has my taxi arrived, Rajeev?”

Rajeev raises his head, too fast.

“Y-yes ma'am. We had a problem with another guest and he had to take the first taxi I requested, but there is already a second one waiting for you.”

Aaliyah smiles at the young man who is too scared.

“Never say you had problems, Rajeev. Say there were setbacks but nothing that you can’t solve.”

The boy nods.

“And by the way, something happened in room 100. I recommend looking closely.”

Aaliyah winks at the kid who seems to stop working for a moment. She carries her bags up to the taxi. The taxi driver helps put her bags in the car and leaves towards the airport.

Back at the hotel, the security team opens the door to room 100 which is empty. The bed where it was once being occupied is now crumpled and empty.

Far away, two women can't stop thinking about everything that happened in that room and especially about each other.

#aaliyah x cruz #aaliyah amrohi #cruz manuelos #special ops: lioness #ao3 writer #ao3 fanfic

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dia-smthidk · 1 month

Note

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I mean if you have chores and that is the software here yourself to some self Terms & Conditions IO sells and I'll hurry up that's what we're buying and following it'll change those apes and buds to procrastinate reasons you're all in your lungs all I don't think black & white there is no shelter right here no wish for this no being bothered to like it one may not mean butterfly like a next month choose a science stupid that loves evolve the names of the old Tom's policy which he needs your sucking quiet on the internet you can't remember and back I'm back I'm going goes around goes around I'm going to go Jim comes you're on therefore I eagerly with your

tldr

#dia-asks

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clotpolesonly · 2 years

Text

A Working Vacation

for the Stiles Shipping Central discord server’s monthly ficlet exchange!! @get-your-ass-in-the-impala requested funny, so i hope this delivers XD

(ps this is my 200th fic on ao3 and that’s fucking CRAZY yo)

(also on AO3)

There was no one behind the front desk. Stiles had forgotten what room he was in, the keycard didn’t have the room number on it, and there was no one at the front desk for him to ask. What kind of bed and breakfast—one that prided itself on being a wholesome, caring, family establishment, no less—just left the desk entirely unsupervised in the middle of the day? That was no way to run a business and he was seriously considering writing a strongly worded Yelp review.

But he couldn’t do that until he got back into his room. That was where his laptop was. Which he needed for a Zoom-call business meeting in half an hour; Lydia would have his head if he was late for another one of those.

He rapped his knuckles on the wooden countertop and called, “Hellooooo…”

The girl who’d checked him in that morning—Cora, if he remembered correctly—did not appear before him to answer his question, nor did any of the other presumed family members working at this family establishment. The front desk remained woefully unattended. The computer screen hadn’t gone dark, so they couldn’t be too far away, could they?

Absently, Stiles noted that the computer was also unlocked.

Stiles noted this again, significantly less absently.

He was not allowed to use their computer to look up his room number himself. Cora had seemed like the type to rip his arm off of his body and beat him with it if he stepped out of line, and jumping over the counter to invite himself into their system would probably be considered really far out of line. He should wait here until somebody with the proper authorization came back to look it up for him.

He waited patiently. For about twenty-two seconds.

He would be worried about security cameras if this wasn’t a tiny podunk establishment on the side of the road in the middle of nowhere. He was impressed they even had electronic keycards, much less CCTV, so he only hesitated a bit before jumping up to slide himself across the countertop to the other side. The computer was old and slow to respond, but everything was very clearly labeled on the desktop and it didn’t take him two minutes to find the list of rooms and their occupants.

“Room 16,” he muttered to himself. “Room 16, that’s me. They should really put the numbers on the—”

The bell above the lobby door jingled. Stiles froze as a pair of fatigued-looking travelers lugged their suitcases in from the parking lot.

“A room for two, please,” one lady said, southern drawl matching her fluffed up, mile-high hair. Stiles’ mouth opened to say that he did not, in fact, work here, but before he could, she added, “Do y’all have a pool? I brought my suit but the last place we stopped didn’t have so much as a hot tub, can you believe that?”

“Yes,” Stiles said automatically. “There’s a pool around the back. It’s only open until six, though, so make sure you get in before then.”

The lady’s husband asked, “Cleaned regularly?”

“Yes, sir.” Cora had assured him as much that morning.

“Good man!” the husband said with a grin. “What room’s got the best view?”

“Uh, well…” Stiles’ fingers moved without his say-so, bringing up the clearly labeled map of the facilities. “If you’re early-risers, you’ll want an east-facing suite. You don’t have to worry about city skylines out here, so you’ll get a perfect sunrise view. I’d recommend the west for its sunsets, but those suites look out over the parking lot." He waggled a hand. "It’s well-maintained, as far as parking lots go, but the uninterrupted forest view to the east is just—”

He made the chef’s kiss noise and the tourists laughed heartily.

"We also offer home-cooked meals for breakfast and for lunch!" Stiles put in. "You're on your own for dinner, but there are a number of restaurants in the town a few miles down the road. I can vouch for them personally, and I would recommend the—"

"What are you doing?"

Stiles jumped a mile high. He whirled around to find a man behind him. A stunningly beautiful man who was not Cora but was clearly related to her, with the same high cheekbones and kaleidoscope eyes. He looked both baffled and offended.

Stiles blinked. "I was…just…"

"He was about to give us our room number," the lady jumped in cheerfully. "He tells us the east side has the best view!"

"That's right," the actual employee said slowly, stepping up to edge Stiles out from in front of the computer. "Room 22 is free."

Stiles leaned against the back wall, cringing internally, as he got them checked in properly and sent them on their way. He cringed externally as the guy turned to squint at him.

"Okay, so, I came in to ask a question but nobody was in here and the computer was unlocked and I waited but nobody came back and I just needed to check one thing and then people came in and they asked about the pool and I was already back here and I didn't wanna—"

The guy raised a hand to stop him. "What was the question? The first one?"

"My room number," Stiles admitted sheepishly. "It's 16."

The employee checked the log. "Well, Stiles," he said, with the familiar undertone of what the hell kind of name is that to his voice, "we don't usually let people behind the counter."

"Yeah, I figured, but I was just—"

“Helping customers, apparently.” He leaned back against the counter, arms crossed. He wasn’t smiling, but there was a particular quirk to his mouth that said he might be fighting one down. His eyebrow rose. “Very nefarious of you. We might sue.”

Stiles wouldn’t have been half as embarrassed if he’d been caught out by someone less attractive, but the pretty eyes and the bone structure and the bulging biceps now on full display before him all added up to him being on the verge of spontaneous combustion.

“I am very sorry, please don’t sue me, mister…?”

The obvious answer was Hale, considering that was the name on the sign out front, but the very attractive man offered up “Derek” instead. The ease of it did nothing to diffuse Stiles’ blush. Nor did the unsubtle once-over Derek gave him.

“Oh,” Stiles said. “Okay, uh, well, that’s good! Thanks for that. Lydia—my business partner, that’s Lydia—she would kill me if I missed our Zoom meeting for litigation purposes.”

Derek cocked his head. “Zoom meeting?”

“Yeah, we need to discuss some quarterly projections, which we really should’ve done before I left for vacation, but I’ll be the first to admit that my time management skills are not what they should be for someone in my position, and my laptop is in my room which is why I needed the—”

“What time’s the meeting over?”

Stiles blinked at him. “Three-thirty, probably. Why?”

“I get off at four.”

Derek promptly turned back to the computer, leaving Stiles to stare at his broad back and comprehend the implication of those words. It took him long enough that Derek glanced back—that smile had finally broken through to grace Stiles with its presence, more than a little mischievous—and jerked his head at the counter. Cheeks burning anew, Stiles hoisted himself gingerly across it.

“Four o’clock, then,” he declared, once both feet were firmly on the lobby floor. “I’ll be here. I guess. For, like, coffee, or something? Bit early for dinner. If that’s what you meant, I mean, I could be wr—”

“I was thinking I’d go for a swim,” Derek said. “Pool’s open until six, you know.”

Stiles’ mouth went dry. “Yeah. Yeah, I do know that, we totally can… Okay.”

When all Derek did was duck his head to hide a laugh, Stiles decided that was his cue to leave, before he said or did anything embarrassing enough to make Derek change his mind. He had no idea what about this situation had made him appealing, but it had, and he was going to make the most of it.

This was gonna be one hell of a vacation.

#Sterek #Stiles Stilinski #Derek Hale #Teen Wolf #fanfiction #fics by me

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dustedmagazine · 8 months

Text

Ruth Anderson / Annea Lockwood—Tête-à-Tête (Ergot)

There’s power in intimacy, and Tête-à-Tête is a powerfully affecting album. It’s a call and response across nearly half a century, from one lover to another, trading the same essential material. Annea Lockwood first met Ruth Anderson in 1973 about a job. Anderson was a composer and the professor in charge of Hunter College’s electronic music studio, which Lockwood took over for nine months so that Anderson could go on a sabbatical. They instantly fell for each other, and connected throughout Anderson’s time off by daily telephone calls, which she recorded and then edited into a tape piece, “Conversations,” which she gave to Lockwood as a gift.

“Conversations” opens with a snatch of a rickety piano negotiating some corny old song. It ends, and one of the women clears her throat, starting a dialogue of coos, questions, greetings, partings, monosyllabic interjections and hearty, life-affirming laughter. The participants’ shared affection is naked and giddy, the way new love can be, and their exchanges are simultaneously very private and quite universal; if you’ve ever felt this way, you’ll hear a bit of yourself in their them. But it’s also a work of carefully considered composition; Anderson had to sift through months of recordings and sequence them just so in order to make this stuff register as something other than a souvenir, even though that’s exactly what it was for 46 years. Preserved on cassette, it stayed between them until after Anderson’s death in 2019, when Lockwood listened to “Conversations” and decided to make a response.

“For Ruth” contains some of the same raw material. Lockwood has kept some of the voices, ditched the piano, added sustained notes by an operatic singer and woven them into field recordings taken from a bird sanctuary and various bodies of water that were dear to both of them. The fragments of speech are now rare fragments amid the honking of waterfowl and the trickle of streams. The piece is calm, like a memory of a good thing that’s gone but still gives comfort. Old love salutes young love.

The album also includes “Resolutions,” a purely electronic composition from 1984. It’s made of slowly descending pitches, which slowly wobble and settle into nothingness like a raw and hasty Eliane Radigue piece. It sounds profoundly dissimilar from the rest of the record, but makes sense on a conceptual level, since it reflects another ending, since it was the last piece of electronic music that Anderson ever finished.

Bill Meyer

#ruth anderson #annea lockwood #tete a tete #ergot #bill meyer #albumreview #dusted magazine #LGBTQ+#electronic music #laughter #Bandcamp

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coochiequeens · 5 months

Text

I'm usually anti-death penalty but I would rather this guy get the chair then have women at risk.

By Genevieve Gluck. January 2, 2024

A trans-identified male convicted of the grisly murders of two men is serving his 50-year sentence in a women’s correctional facility. Vietnam war and US Navy veteran Susan Monica, born Steven Buchanan, had dismembered the bodies of his victims and fed them to pigs at a 20-acre farm he owned in Wimer, Oregon.

In 1991, Buchanan purchased a 20-acre farm in Oregon where he would kill two handymen in 2012 and 2013 before feeding their corpses to the pigs he owned at the property. He was sentenced to a minimum of 50 years in prison in 2015, and multiple new outlets reporting on the case referred to Buchanan simply as a “woman,” without mentioning his transgender status or the fact he is a biological male.

“You shot two people and fed them to your pigs,” Judge Tim Barnack told Buchanan during sentencing. “I don’t know how else I can put it. You valued pigs more than you value people. It may sound harsh, but you are a cold-blooded killer.”

According to the Oregon state Department of Corrections, Buchanan is incarcerated at Coffee Creek Correctional Facility, a women’s facility. He is listed under his feminine name, Susan Monica, and is described as being “female” in official records.

In 2012, Buchanan hired 59-year-old Stephen Delicino to assist him with tasks on the farm in exchange for financial compensation and accommodations. According to Buchanan’s testimony, the two became involved in a physical altercation after Buchanan discovered that Delicino was in possession of two of his guns. During a confrontation over the alleged theft, Buchanan claims that a gun misfired, striking Delicino in the back of the head and killing him.

However, Buchanan’s story regarding the death of Delicino was inconsistent. He variously claimed that Delicino shot himself in the head, and that he had shot the victim in self-defense — before his remains were eaten by Buchanan’s pigs.

What was left of Delicino’s corpse would later be found by investigators in plastic bags on the property, but not before Buchanan killed again.

The following year, Buchanan hired Robert Haney, 56, as a handyman by placing an advertisement for hired help. In the summer of 2013, Haney’s children became concerned when they could not contact their father, and filed a missing persons report with the Jackson County Sheriff’s Office.

Haney’s son, Jesse, revealed in a documentary for Oxygen about the killings that he visited Buchanan’s farm on January 1, 2014 inquiring as to the whereabouts of his father, and to retrieve his belongings. “We hadn’t seen or heard from my dad for two months. We just all started to panic,” he said. “His leather jacket was there. His dog was still running around and all his tools were there… It made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.”

When officers initially questioned Buchanan about Haney’s disappearance, he told them that the handyman had quit and left the farm. Yet suspicions were raised when Buchanan was caught on security camera footage using Haney’s Oregon Trail Electronic Benefits Transfer card (EBT) to pay for items at a Walmart the day after he claimed that Haney had left his property.

Law enforcement officers executed a search warrant on the property and were shocked by the dilapidated conditions of Buchanan’s farm, which included piles of garbage, rotting food, and industrial waste.

“I would describe that property as eerie. There was a very strong order there, a lot of decay,” former Jackson County Sheriff’s Detective Julie Denney told Oxygen.

Then, investigators discovered the remains of a human leg. “It was clear that it was not an animal bone. It appeared to me to be a human leg that had been severed mid-femur, down to the toes,” Denney said.

Detectives brought Buchanan in for further questioning, at which point Buchanan told a bizarre story about putting Haney “out of his misery.”

Buchanan claimed that a few months prior, he had discovered his pigs in a feeding frenzy, devouring Haney’s intestines “with his guts all over the place.”

Steven Buchanan / Susan Monica, mugshot via Jackson County Sheriff’s Office

“He was being eaten, what I believed to be, alive,” Buchanan told detectives during the interview. “I put him out of his misery. I do that for my animals and this was the first time I did it for a human being and I knew it was wrong but if it were one of my pigs suffering out there, I would have done the same thing.”

State Police forensic anthropologist Veronica Vance testified that Haney had suffered three to four gunshot wounds to the head. His legs had been chopped off with an ax, though it was unclear whether this occurred before or after Haney’s death. Additionally, his thigh bones showed signed of having been gnawed on by an animal.

Buchanan stated that he didn’t inform authorities about the incident because he feared that his pigs would be put down. When investigators asked whether they would find anything else on his property, Buchanan drew a map with an “X” and said, “Right there. That’s where you’re going to find Steve,” referring to Delicino.

“I do not value human life very much,” Buchanan would admit during a taped confession. “My feeling is the only thing wrong with the planet is there’s people on it. If not for us, all the other animals, even dodo birds, would be here.”

The lead detective involved with the case told the court that Buchanan had admitted to killing over a dozen victims in a similar manner. “She told me that if she told me about the 17 others that she would spend the rest of her life in jail,” said detective Eric Henderson, referring to Buchanan as a woman.

Delicino’s daughter Eva told Oxygen that she also believed there were more unidentified victims.

“I think there’s more people… I don’t know what the motive would be… I don’t think that you kill two people in that manner and that it wasn’t premeditated. I think [he] did it to other people, too… and even the investigators believe that there are more people out there on [his] property.”

Buchanan was arrested on January 14, 2014 and charged with two counts each of murder and first-degree abuse of a corpse as well as one count of identity theft, the Mail Tribune reported at the time. Dozens of crime scene investigators searched the property, digging over 100 holes over the following weeks. Though they uncovered the remains of both Haney and Delicino, as well as the victims’ personal belongings, no other bodies were found.

A former cellmate of Buchanan’s at the Jackson County jail testified to getting “chills” after receiving a birthday card from Buchanan signed, “from the sweetest murderer in Jackson County.”

It is unclear how many men claiming a transgender status are currently being held in women’s facilities in Oregon state. As Reduxx previously reported, a man in custody for the brutal murder of his ex-girlfriend had been briefly transferred to the Coffee Creek Women’s Correctional Facility, but was quickly moved back to the male estate just weeks later for unknown reasons.

Zera Lola Zombie, born Daniel Lee Smith, has received a “vulnerable” designation by an Oregon Court, entitling him to special protections and privileges due to his gender identity. He is classified as a “female” inmate in the Oregon inmate directory.

#Susan Monica is Steven Buchanan #usa #oregon #Wider #Not a woman #NotOurCrimes #The media not reporting crime statistics truthfully #Oregon state Department of Corrections #Coffee Creek Correctional Facility #Rest In Peace Stephen Delicino #Rest In Peace Robert Haney #male violence

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thoselethalarts · 3 months

Text

ℙ𝕙𝕠𝕓𝕠𝕤 𝔹𝕒𝕟𝕟𝕖𝕣 - ℙ𝕖𝕣𝕤𝕠𝕟𝕒𝕝 𝕊𝕥𝕠𝕣𝕪

(SR) Lab Coats (Part 2): "It’d Make This Exchange a Lot Less Fun."

(Ignihyde Dorm: Lounge)

(Phobos appears to be working on something intently. A gentle hissing noise and smoke is wafting up from before him as he’s leaning over one of the tables in the lounge)

Phobos: Hm…

Ignihyde Mob A: Well? How’s she lookin’?

Phobos: …Pretty sure that’s about it. Just needs to get cleaned up a bit and it’ll be good to go.

(Phobos holds up the finished piece: a freshly printed and soldered circuit board.)

Phobos: Here it is. Should fit right in place to where the old one was installed in the server bay.

Ignihyde Mob A: That’s so cool…! I didn’t know you could just make those so easily!

Phobos: It’s not that hard. Just takes some time to learn how to do, like any other skill. Phobos: All that’s left to do is let it cool and plug it back in. Let Idia know I’m gonna have that server back in working order soon enough.

Ignihyde Mob A: Yeah, for sure!

(The mob student takes off down the hall)

Ortho: That’s impressive work, Phobos Banner! You almost can’t tell the difference between the old circuit board and the new one, outside of the damage to the previous component of course.

Phobos: It better be impressive. I’ve been doing this for long enough that I’d hope my skills would translate to a print this simple at the very least.

Ortho: I’m a little surprised that you were able to make this circuit board without any assistance or machinery outside of an iron and a soldering gun. Ortho: With my “Precision Gear” equipped I’m capable of performing many intricate and minute tasks that would be difficult or otherwise impossible for a human hand to perform. Ortho: It has many tools and accessories that make it especially well-equipped for handling various medical procedures, but it can also easily be used for mechanical inspection and repair as well. Ortho: My brother requested me to assist you with this task for this reason, but… aside from fetching you a few requested items, you hardly needed my help at all.

Phobos: Like I said, I’ve got experience with this sort of thing. I’ve been doing this for years now since I started learning how to build my own electronics from scratch. Phobos: It helps to not have “human eyes”, too. My vision is better than most peoples’ in this dorm, easily.

Ortho: This is true! Your hands are quite steady too. You’re practically made for this kind of work!

Phobos: Heh… Appreciate the compliment. Phobos: Anyway, I’m gonna start cleaning up my materials. Since you have the small hands for it, why don’t you take this circuit board and reinstall it for me back in the server for me.

(The sound of footsteps clack against the floor as someone approaches Phobos from afar.)

Rook: Bonjour! Rook: I apologize for the delay, Roi du Poison required my steadfast presence and I could never say no to his demand.

Ortho: Oh! Good afternoon, Rook Hunt!

Rook: Monsieur Doll, a pleasure as always, as well~

Phobos: You actually showed up, huh. You really must have a death wish.

Rook: If it is by your hand it would be a death worth having experienced. I must admit, I’ve become slightly addicted to your penmanship.

Phobos: Ugh… Don’t make this weird. Here.

(Phobos hands a folded piece of paper to Rook)

Phobos: You remember our rules, right?

Rook: Oui.

Phobos: Good. Go ahead and read it whenever you want, then.

Ortho: Eh? A piece of paper?

Rook: Oui, but it is not just a simple piece of paper. Rook: Written upon its surface is a delightful dance of poetry and prose, with words so tantalizingly powerful they rewire the very fabric of your being. Rook: Never before have such simple words ever shaken me to my very core, hijacking my very essence and liberating my being from the very shackles of life to bring me momentarily to the edge of nirvana. Rook: It’s truly an artistry! A rush of adrenaline, of life, like none I have ever experienced before!

Ortho: Really?! Phobos Banner, I had no idea you were such a poet!

Phobos: …It’s not exactly like that.

Ortho: Aw, but Rook Hunt seems to really admire your talent! I’d love to read some of your work, too!

Phobos: You- …Actually. I’ll think about it. It’d be interesting to see what a non-human reaction would be to it. Phobos: Speaking of- you before said your currently equipped body is best suited for medical assistance. Do me a favor and stick around for a minute.

Ortho: Oh? Is something the matter? Are you feeling ill?

Rook: Ugh-!

(Rook collapses to the floor with a thud)

Ortho: Uwa?!

Phobos: No, but he probably is.

Ortho: Rook Hunt! What happened?! Ortho: Commencing emergency bio-scans. Ortho: Oxygen levels decreasing rapidly. Blood pressure levels dropping to dangerously low levels. Cause of emergency appears to be caused by sudden seizure of lung muscles. Ortho: No viral presence detected. No venomous presence detected. Ortho: Commencing emergency resuscitation.

Phobos: That won’t be necessary, Ortho. He’ll be fine.

Ortho: Wha-?! He’s going into shock, Phobos Banner! He’s very much not-!

Rook: (Gasps, then coughs roughly) It is... okay, Monsieur Doll... I am okay.

Ortho: Ah!! Rook Hunt! You’re… okay? Ortho: Scanning… Blood oxygen levels normalizing. Blood pressure levels normalizing. Lung function normalizing. Ortho: How is this possible…? I’ve never heard of the human body recovering from shock this quickly before. Ortho: This note…

(Ortho picks up the note Phobos previously gave to Ortho and begins reading from it)

Ortho: “The body and mind intertwine; two halves are now one whole. The mind becomes acutely aware of the body’s breath. The mind becomes aware that it must think in order for the body to breathe.” Ortho: “The mind detests its exhaustion. Detests the command to further breath. Detests that it must process an unconscious action in order to sustain the body’s life. Lecherous and co-dependent, a leech that takes and never returns.” Ortho: “The mind sets flame to its bridge to sever this connection of perceived toxicity. The mind seizes the body’s muscles, focuses on the chest, to stop the churning of oxygen through blood and flesh.” Ortho: “Ribbons of capillaries tie together into knots, unable to be separated. Serpents intertwine in a delirious dance of death.” Ortho: “In its fit of perceived righteousness the mind realizes still that the body and mind are one, and should one fall, the other shall follow.” Ortho: “The bridge is only just alight, flames lick shallow against the boards that hold its weight against the pull of gravity. The mind stomps the flames into the dirt. The bridge is left unburnt.” Ortho: “Ribbons untangle, deadly lovers separate from their dance. Air and blood flow free through muscle and bone.” Ortho: “The mind and body become two halves once again. The mind is no longer aware of the body’s presence. Perceived co-dependence fades into hazy memories.” Ortho: “Memories drift listlessly, ash in the wind trickling from the boards of a once-charred bridge.” Ortho: This is… ah!

Rook: Ohh, Phobos… you’re a truly dastardly devil. Your words hold such power, such conviction. My body cannot help but follow each delicate letter’s command so tentatively.

Ortho: You-! Phobos Banner! You used magic against Rook Hunt through the words written on this note! Ortho: You could have killed him! This is no better than if you had poisoned his drink and watched him collapse in front of you!

Phobos: Relax, Ortho. I’m not going to kill him. It’d make this exchange a lot less fun if I did. Phobos: My unique magic “Terror Black” doesn’t take effect unless the entirety of the contained message is read in full. If he at least glosses over the fail-safe I included at the end he’ll be fine. Phobos: Granted, I haven’t tested on what happens when I rip part of the message out of the original text… Hey Rook, I think I have an idea for a new abstract work I think will really take your breath away.

Rook: Tease me not, I can only become so enraptured in you before it becomes truly detrimental to my health.

Ortho: Rook Hunt, for the sake of your health I must recommend you not to continue in this reckless behavior.

Rook: Non, non… Monsieur Doll, despite your lively attitude you’ve yet to understand that which a human heart truly craves.

Ortho: Eh…?

Rook: The human heart craves beauty and artistry that truly envelops its entire being. True art and beauty can still the senses, numb pain, and steal away the body’s consciousness in a trance. Rook: I’ve never before in my life experienced such art that was able to perform this duty so literally… I feel fortunate that I was able to find someone so beautifully talented! Rook: Besides… it would betray my hunter’s blood to back away from a deadly challenge such as this. I must see this path through to the end, otherwise I’d never find the satisfaction I so dearly crave.

Ortho: I suppose so, but still… this seems to be too illogically dangerous for me to recommend at all in good faith.

Phobos: I’m not forcing him to take part in it; he can stop whenever he wants. Phobos: But… if you’re still interested in reading some of my “poetry”, Ortho, I can write you something special, just for your eyes only. Phobos: I’m a little more than interested to see how a machine might react to something I usually only let human eyes see.

Ortho: I’ll have to decline. Now that I know your intentions, I can’t find any merit in taking part in such an experiment.

Phobos: Eh. Offer’s on the table if you change your mind. I'm not gonna hurt you. Just... poke around a little on the insides. That's what this is all about. Phobos: I know my way around machines way more than I know my way around human skin. If there’s anything you could trust me with, it’s your safety. Phobos: You saw my handiwork earlier, at any rate. If there’s a couple things I’m skilled in tinkering with, it’s chemicals and circuitry.

/ End

#ツイステッドワンダーランド #Twisted Wonderland #TWST #twst oc #oc #original character #soul writes #personal story #Phobos Banner #フォボス • バナー

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cursedorca · 1 year

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a BIG list of “Realistic” pokemon!

Politoed: like the lyrebird of frog pokemon, sets off every frog pokemon in their area because they mimic the calls of other frogs, confusing them.

Bidoof: its a baby beaver

Squirtle: squirtles live out in the sea or in deep lakes for a long time, before they develop a more stout, Snapping-turtle like body plan to facilitate them becoming more terrestrial to avoid competing too much with their young

Blaziken: this chicken remembered it was a dinosaur and stood up

Pelipper: a fell beast known as a Pelican. but with an even BIGGER throat pouch

Surskit: the nymph stage of maquerain. their undeveloped wings come together to form a protective spike for now

Gastly Line: misinterpreted as spirits of the dead, these spider-pokemon have a peculiar defense, by folding their limbs together with coloration that makes them resemble a big scary face with a dangling tongue. as they grow older they weave more webbing together to make a false Puppet-body to hide in and protect itself (known at this point as a ‘Haunter’). when they reach a certain age, many Haunter will move into the same web-body together and mate continuously with each other (Colloquially known as a “Gengar”). their webs are coated with a substance that dries easily and is toxic when inhaled, as a defense mechanism they shake their web furiously to scatter this substance as a toxic cloud of powdered dust.

Wobbuffet: wasnt sure what to do with wobbuffet, my beloved weirdo. had 4 ideas. 1: wobbuffet is a gecko with a huge tail. 2: Wobbuffet is a sea cucumber with an inflatable filament. 3: wobbuffet is some sort of hydrozoan. 4: wobbuffet is it’s own funky monstery thing. could be any of em

Chandelure line: getting it’s own post soon

Mimikyu: a land cuttlefish that once used hide and furs from dead pokemon to cover itself as a decoy and keep its body from drying out (putting it in direct competition with Banette) now moved onto the much more plentiful human-made cloth scraps and plushies. when surprised they flash and strobe in bright lights and colors, causing epileptic seizures in those who are sensitive.

Rotom: a form of flatworm, once considered a pest. they are attracted to old electronics due to the rubber gaskets, fittings and wire insulation. they feed on these before gradually breaking down the copper wiring. due to an instinct to aggressively defend their food source with electronic shocks, and being attracted to areas of high current (like the control panel or capacitors) this gives the impression that rotom ‘Possesses’ electronics

Solosis line: an amphibian pokemon that evolved to retain it’s gelatinous egg casing as a protective coating. the jelly is full of muscle fibers and neurons in a sort of mesh that is difficult to see.

Sandygast: an octopus pokemon that prowls the beach for krabby to eat. they cover themselves in sand to protect from the beating sun, even stealing unattended shovels from children on the beach to help. they prop themselves up as false shelter to the krabby to hide in away from wingull, before plopping down on them and devouring them.

Sawk & Throh: 2 morphs of the same species of short tailed/Tailless komodo dragon pokemon. living in small groups that fight constantly to establish pecking order. the sawk morph is very speedy and nimble in exchange for being very frail in comparison, while the Throh morph is much stronger and heavier but extremely slow. there is a misunderstanding that sawk and throh are ‘entirely male’ but this is untrue, rather they have a genital configuration similar to hyena’s, not to mention mating is rarely ever observed and thus poorly understood.

Kecleon: a lizard pokemon with a highly sophisticated form of camouflage, their scales even capable of taking on levels of bioluminescence and phosphorescence to increase the effectiveness of the disguise. the red band along their midsection is a clear selection of scales over a patch of light-sensitive cells that automatically adjust levels of light for their camouflage while the eyes focus on depth, shapes, details and colors.

Yamask line: black scavenger birds that build nests from glittering, sparkling objects. in the past they were known to appear in the homes of recently deceased in the unovan desert, attracted by the bronze ‘death mask’ laid over the face of the deceased, the fact that they were constantly found taking them created the myth that these birds are in fact the souls of the departed. when they mature they lose the ability to fly, but gain much greater strength and developed phalanges on their former-wings that helps them carry their nest easier. in the past they wove their nests as baskets with both lid and container to retain all the sparkling materials theyve gathered with a special, weblike secretion from their Mucus glands. but with the increasing popularity of coffins, caskets and sarcophagi in bright, glittering colors they became much more entranced by them and grew in strength to use them as semi-mobile shelter. they are Highly aggressive and possessive of anything theyve gathered.

Castform: a form of jellyfish pokemon. while technically speaking very resistant to changes in weather, they Do react strongly to it, which was a trait long bred into them by humans for weather prediction. as such, they are 'made' by humans, but not as directly as some 'synthetic' pokemon

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