#just odd to suddenly realize a phobia is gone

[kc5rings]

Ya know, I think I’m over my thing with clowns

Huh.

[voiceless-terror]

would you consider writing me some precanon jongeorgie angst. bc i imagine they probably bonded over their interest in the supernatural but never. you know. actually talked about their personal experiences/trauma. just give me a little of both of them handling that trauma very badly while never admitting their closest brush with the supernatural. or something. idk.

Hello anon! I haven’t written Jon/Georgie yet, but this prompt was too good to pass up. Hope you like!

Being with Georgie was easy. It shouldn’t have been, not for him.

But it was.

She carried herself with the utmost surety: of her opinions, of her feelings, of her place in the world. It wasn’t arrogance, more like confidence and something else Jon couldn’t quite put his finger on. There was a blankness in her eyes sometimes. Not an absence of feeling but an absence of...understanding, maybe. Of empathy. Georgie saw the world in black and white; she knew exactly what was right and what was wrong. She was blunt. She bulldozed over others in conversations, pointed out flaws that polite society knew to overlook and not name. Jon admired it, as much as it made him cringe.

But it was complemented by her fierce capacity for loving, her clever, teasing words, the way her fingers ran through his hair when he was stressed. That black and white view could quiet his mind like no other- ‘yes, Jon’, ‘no, Jon.’  She listened to his incessant rambling, nodding in the right places and adding her own commentary. She filled out the crosswords in the morning, her brow furrowed in concentration, colorful nails tapping at the table. She never wanted help, stubborn to a fault. Her dark skin ethereal in the morning light, the way her voice was low and croaky before her coffee. The ease with which she said ‘I love you.’ 

He remembered the day she first approached him, all ripped-tights and smudged, smoky eyeshadow. Just leaned against the wall on that chilly fall night and snatched the cigarette right from his hand, an eyebrow flicked upward as she took a drag. He couldn’t get a word out, just silently took her phone when she offered it and typed in a number with shaking hands. A year later and she was still that same girl, though he’d seen her stash of manga and her weird cat memorabilia. She was whole, real. It was comfortable.

“I’m not really sure if I should go.” They’re curled up on the couch, Jon leaning into the warm bulk of her. “All of the others are going, though.”

“It’s not like you’re close, right?” Jon’s petting the Admiral, the new addition to the household fitting in seamlessly. “I’m sure she won’t take it as an insult. You can always say you’re busy. Who was it, again? Her father?”

“Yeah.” Georgie’s shifting against him, clearly uncomfortable with the topic. It’s odd- she’s not usually so awkward about these things. If there’s something she doesn’t want to talk about, she shuts it down right away. This seems...different. “And no, not close. But everyone else is going- they want to show their support, I guess. It would be awkward if I didn’t.”

Perhaps Georgie didn’t like funerals. You’re not supposed to, of course. Maybe it was a phobia, a perfectly valid one. Plenty of people don’t like to see the reminder of death laid out before them. Jon’s been to a few in his lifetime- for his Gran’s friend, for a distant cousin.

For his parents.

He doesn’t remember his father’s, he might not have even gone. He was only two at the time. He distantly remembers his mother’s; it wasn’t well attended, he sat in the front row with his Gran. He doesn’t even remember crying, if he even realized the thing in the box was his mother, dead and gone.

Needless to say, he understands Georgie’s sentiments. “You don’t have to go, not if...not if you don’t like it. Plenty of people are uncomfortable with death-” This was the wrong thing to say, for Georgie tensed instantly, leaning away from him.

“That’s not it at all,” she says, snatching her legs out from where Jon’s leaning comfortable against them. “It’s- it’s the performance of it all. All those people standing around a body, sniffling and moaning-”

Jon tried for levity, bristling at her tone. “People grieve, they need closure-”

Georgie snorted, this time shoving him away on the couch, the Admiral jumping from Jon’s lap at the movement. Her words became impassioned, as if Jon needed to know, needed to understand. “Cremate them, then! Say a few words, scatter the ashes, whatever. But having the body on display like that?” She gets up, starts to pace. Jon’s never seen her like this. “Paint the corpse, dress it up, pretend it’s a person still but it’s not, and everyone’s just standing there around it, praying over it and watching it like it’s not just rotting meat you put lipstick on-”

“Georgie!”

“I can’t stand it.” She stops in front of him, chest heaving and eyes aflame. “What’s so monumental about it? We live, we die- and her father was old, it was bound to happen sometime. No need to make such a to-do. It’s- it’s just disgusting, is what it is.” She didn’t continue, and an awkward silence permeated the room. 

Georgie got worked up about things on occasion. But the wild look in her eye, the total sense of incomprehension was...disconcerting. He agreed with her on certain points, of course, but the vehemence behind them- something wasn’t right. But it didn’t feel right to pry, either, and Georgie surely wouldn’t appreciate it.

“You could just say you’re busy, you don’t have to go,” he tries tentatively. She seems to deflate where she stands, looking uncharacteristically vulnerable. So he stands up, taking her hand in his. She lets him, but doesn’t meet his eyes. “But if you do, I can come with you. If you’d like.”

They stand in the very back row of the church after awkwardly greeting her grieving coworker. Georgie’s nails dig painfully into his arm, but he says nothing. They leave after ten minutes and stop at an Indian buffet on the way home. He silently watches her dig into a curry, his own untouched.

___________

When she first met Jon, she thought he was utterly out of her league.

It was her first semester back at school, she was an absolute fucking mess- drinking at all hours, barely present in her classes. She was out at the bar with a few new friends, most of whom she’d already forgotten the names of, and saw him standing there under a single flickering lamp, a cigarette dangling from long, slender fingers, raven hair back in a messy bun. Not many people could pull that off but he looked almost effortlessly cool (a thing she’d later find laughable for ever thinking) in his dingy leather jacket, his eyes far away and shadowed. She wondered what made him lose sleep. He had an odd, crooked little smile on his face and she was filled with liquid courage. The look he gave her when she took that cigarette out of his hand made her knees weak, and he took the proffered phone like he was only a little impressed. She sent a text to his phone and left, so embarrassed she went straight home.

He never did text her. To be fair, she never expected him to.

But she found him not two days later, hunched over a table in the campus library. She did a double take- surely this couldn’t be him, her impossibly handsome, silent figure who she surely dreamed up. But there was no mistaking that hair, those eyes. He was smaller, somehow diminished in his baggy jumper and wire-rimmed glasses, tapping a pencil against his textbook in irritation. Before she knew it she found herself picking up her phone, sending a text to the number with no name. And sure enough, his phone buzzed.

They went out on their first date a day later.

Jon was a ball of nerves, awkward and not at all like the man she thought she met that night. Somehow, the real Jon was better. She liked the way he blushed and stammered, the way a touch of her hand left him flustered and unable to speak. The way he could talk for hours about nothing at all, making even the most dull of subjects seem interesting with that voice of his- a voice surely meant for radio or T.V., something Jon himself endlessly scoffed at whenever she brought it up. They would sit in front of the telly for hours, marathoning ridiculous ghost hunting shows and pointing out the obvious fakes. Jon had a weakness for ghost stories, just like she did. “Most of them are absolute drivel, of course,” he said.

Most of them. 

They found comfort in each other, their small island of two, had no need for other company. Georgie had never been able to relate to someone so well, not since Alex, and Jon was never fond of crowds. Three months in he tried to break up with her, saying he could never give her what ‘she needed’ but she stopped that in its tracks- Georgie would be the one who decided what she did and didn’t need, thank you very much. She liked the way he leaned into her on movie nights, like her touch was the only thing that mattered. The sincerity in his eyes whenever he complimented her in that earnest, awkward way of his. He challenged her when he thought she was wrong, sometimes their fights lasted days. But they always came back to one another, each knowing they had no one else who understood them. Was it healthy? Georgie couldn’t answer that, she didn’t know herself. Jon probably didn’t either. But she loved him, in her way. 

That night they have a few glasses of wine, and Jon’s regaling her with some ridiculous story from his youth- apparently he was somewhat of a delinquent, wandering about at all hours. She laughs in delight, imagining a small, serious Jon climbing fences and evading the law. But suddenly Jon stops, his eyes going wide and his face growing ashen as he stares unblinking at the table.

It’s a spider- a tiny thing, really. Georgie’s been seeing a lot of them lately, and she really should be better about dusting the place. But Jon- Jon looks absolutely terrified, like the thing’s bound to leap out and kill him. She opens her mouth to tease, an instinctive reaction, but is instead startled by the loud smack of a hand against the table. Jon had smashed it certainly, but he lifts his hand and stares at it in wide-eyed horror, as if whatever he sees is nine times worse than the original thing.

“Jon-”

The chair hits the ground as he stumbles to her bathroom with heavy, labored breathing. She gets up slowly, approaching as quietly as possible to find him hyperventilating against the sink, the faucet on full blast as he washes his hand- scratches it, really. He’s mumbling frantically under his breath.

“...so many legs, get off, get off-”

She makes her presence known as not to startle him, approaching from the side and gently wrapping a hand around his arm once she sees him drawing blood. He starts anyway, his movements jerky and frenzied as he rips his arm away like her touch burns.

“It’s just a spider Jon,” she says softly, lifting her hands to show she means no harm. “It’s okay, you got it, it’s dead now-”

“But what if it isn’t!” He spits, slamming his hands on the marble rim of the sink and leaving bloody prints in his wake. He’s breathing so fast she thinks he might pass out. “What if it isn’t?”

She has no answer to that.

It takes about two hours, a hot shower and a stiff drink for him to calm down. They lay on the couch, watching something stupid, mind-numbing. She runs her fingers through his hair. He always liked that. She doesn’t say a word, he’s exhausted, and she knows from experience that pushing him will just lead to another fit like before. The next day, he brings her Hungarian by way of apology. They eat in a more comfortable silence, Jon gradually warming up as the evening goes on. Still, she doesn’t ask.

She spends the weekend cleaning her flat, standing on a chair and vacuuming at the cobwebs.

ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28440474

[sofwrites]

Touching prompt for Anthony and Penelope (friendship) 8 and 13.

I had so much fun writing this!! And I ended up focusing on number 8 here, but I think I'll write 13 (nudging each other) in the future!

Masterlist | Bridgerton blurbs on ao3 | Touching prompts

8: shielding the other with their body

“Your gardener does do a rather excellent job,” Penelope smiled as she leaned down to smell a row of pink roses. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen a garden quite so lovely.”

Anthony squinted at her, unable to force a smile in return. Ultimately, he just grunted, “Thank you,” before looking back down at his feet.

Penelope wasn’t quite sure what event in her life had led her to that moment. There she was, Mrs. Penelope Featherington Bridgerton, walking alongside her brother-in-law, the Viscount, Lord Bridgerton.

Well, she supposed she knew what had led to her accompanying him on this walk in particular.

Anthony and Colin had gotten into some sort of row, and both had decided that they were too stubborn to apologize first. Penelope wasn’t sure what exactly they’d fought about- Colin giving the children extra sweets before bed or Anthony boasting about winning a round of cards (or perhaps it was something even more meaningless). Whatever it was, both of their wives were quite certain that it was petty and senseless.

But the two men hadn’t spoken in two days, which is why Penelope and Kate had agreed that it was time to intervene. And after a failed attempt at convincing either of their husbands, they decided to switch their undertakings.

Which is how Penelope had ended up on a walk with Anthony.

“This really isn’t necessary,” he muttered in a voice that was almost a tad whiney, so unlike the usual firmness in his tone.

She smiled, meeting her hands behind her back in the same way his were. “Humor me.”

Anthony glanced at her, eyebrow quirking up just slightly.

They walked in silence for a few moments, looking at the various flowers and foliage around them. And then, breaking the quiet, Penelope let out a soft laugh.

“What’s that?” Anthony asked.

“Oh,” she chuckled. “It’s just that I think we’ve only walked together like this once. Quite a long time ago, actually.”

He looked at her for some seconds, frowning. And then it seemed realization hit him because Lord Anthony Bridgerton gave his own laugh. “I suppose you’re right.”

She grinned at him, leaning over to nudge him just slightly. Anthony had always been someone rather important to her. Long before Penelope had been a Bridgerton (and before she’d ever even thought the notion possible), Anthony had been wonderful to her. All of the family had, of course, but Viscount Bridgerton, older, wiser, and fiercely protective of his family, had at some point decided to extend a similar shelter to her. She wasn’t sure the reason behind it, but it had kept a soft spot in her heart for him. And since her marriage to Colin, he was only more like the older brother she had never had.

“Is this where you and Kate, erm-” Penelope paused for a moment, “decided to get married?” They’d reached a beautiful part of the garden overflowing with multicolored tulips.

Anthony gave her a hard look, but it was weakened by the slight smirk on his lips. “Yes, this is where your mother caught us.”

She gave him a sheepish smile before bending down to take a closer look. “I still think it’s a rather sweet story. At least better than mine and Colin’s.”

Anthony let out a small snort of amusement behind her and Penelope swore she could feel his arms crossing.

After an inspection, she straightened again. “Now, we really must talk about this spat. It’s simply gone on too long and-”

Penelope stopped when she heard a sharp intake of breath, frowning as she turned to look at her brother-in-law. Her eyes widened once she saw him. He looked practically frozen, his entire body stiff as a board as he stood there. His arms and legs were rigid and clamped to him. His lips were pressed so tightly together that they formed a single thin line. The only movement was that of his eyes, which were following something. “Anthony?”

Her voice seemed to bring him back somewhat because immediately he made a sharp, “Shh.”

She blinked at him a few times, absolutely perplexed. She’d never seen Anthony look so- what?

And then she heard it.

A soft buzzing sound rang out in her ears, coming somewhere from the flowers behind her. She looked at Anthony again. He was frightened. Lord Anthony Bridgerton was frightened because he’d seen a bee.

Penelope had learned the details of the late Viscount Bridgerton’s untimely death early into her close friendship with Eloise. She’s been told how a single bee sting had brought the healthy man to his grave, suddenly leaving behind his wife and children.

She’d also learned a few years later about his eldest son’s vicious phobia. Eloise, of course, had been the one to tell her, using it to explain her brother’s odd proposal (if one were to call it that) to Kate.

In all honesty, Penelope had found it hard to believe at the time. It wasn’t that it was unreasonable; she actually found it quite understandable given the circumstances. But it was still practically impossible to imagine that Anthony, the large, authoritarian gentleman that he was, could be that fearful of a tiny, winged creature.

She no longer found it hard to believe.

Immediately after Penelope’s eyes finished her scan of him, she took a purposeful step in front of him and began rapidly swatting until the buzzing had cleared from her ears.

Once the sound disappeared, she rolled her gaze over the flowers around them, carefully inspecting for any movement. There were a few butterflies milling about, but definitely no more bees. Anthony still wasn’t moving, but she could feel his breath steadying behind her.

Wordlessly, Penelope stepped away from him and set forth on their path back to the house. Taking incredibly slow and deliberate steps, she waited until he joined her side again.

Neither of them spoke for a minute, listening only to the sounds of their feet on the ground and the birds in the air. And then, quietly, Penelope asked, “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” he grunted.

She nodded, biting the inside of her cheek. There was another pause of silence.

“I shouldn’t have reacted that way,” Anthony finally muttered, uncharacteristically holding his gaze on the ground. His voice was smaller than she’d ever heard it. “At the very least, I should have been the one shielding you.”

Penelope gave a sad smile as she looked ahead, taking a moment to sigh. “Anthony, I am your sister, yes?”

He frowned slightly, still not looking at her. “Indeed.”

“Which makes me family, correct?”

He glanced at her with a hint of impatience. “Yes?”

She stopped him with a hand on the forearm and turned to face him. “And families are meant to protect each other. Just as you’ve protected me in the past, I’ve done the same for you. And there’s absolutely nothing wrong with that.”

He watched her for a moment, entire face hard and unyielding. But then, it softened a bit, his mouth forming a modest, grateful smile. “Thank you.”

She gave him a kind nod before turning back to their path. Walking slowly, they shared a few comfortable, silent moments. Until,

“I promise that I won’t tell anyone. At the request that you reconcile with Colin.”

And with that Anthony groaned. “You’ve definitely spent too much time with my brother. Or my sister. Or perhaps even my wife.”

Penelope laughed and gave him a beaming smile, “I suppose it all comes with being a Bridgerton.”

[queenxxxsupreme]

But what if Lambert's SO has a phobia of reptiles and she's trying to be supportive of his hobbies but she just can't and passes out? oh no.

A/N: I love this!! I hope I wrote it good enough!! I’m not scared of snakes.... Or really any “creepy” animals, so I wasn’t too sure how to write it, but I hope you like it!! We can add Clea the ball python to Lambert’s list of animals! 

***

You shifted around on the bed, whining a little. 

“Lambert?” You called his name. You reached out for him. The room was cold even underneath your multiple blankets. A draft was blowing in from somewhere. 

The witcher didn’t answer you. 

You lifted your head and called his name again, ready to kick the back of his leg. However, you found that his side of the bed was empty. 

You sat up, brushing your hair back out of your eyes, and frowned. 

The fire in the hearth across the room was out which explained why the room was so cold. How long had Lambert been gone?

Climbing out of bed, you put on a pair of trousers and boots as well as one of Lambert’s shirts. That wasn’t enough, so you pulled out your cloak from the wardrobe. Out of the corner of your eye, you caught sight of the terrarium that Clea, Lambert’s ball python, resided in during the night. She was brown with tan splotches. 

Goosebumps rose on your skin as you realized you were alone in the room with her. Lambert did his best to never leave you alone with her. You were deathly afraid of snakes. You knew Clea wasn’t dangerous, but you were still terrified of snakes nonetheless. Lambert was trying to get you more comfortable with her, but it was a slow process. 

You knew the cold wasn’t good for her. He usually kept the room warm enough for her during the harsh winters at the keep. You knew a fire needed to be started, but it would be better if Lambert did it. 

You chewed on your lip as you decided on what to do. Should you go get Lambert first? Or see if Clea was okay? 

You chose the latter, taking a few hesitant steps towards the terrarium. The top was closed, so she couldn’t get out. You’d just have to search for her. 

You looked and looked, but had no luck. Sometimes she liked to really hide to get away from everyone. But maybe something was wrong. Maybe it was too cold for her. 

***

It wasn’t too hard to find Lambert. He was in the kitchen with Eskel and Vesemir. Lambert was sitting at the table while Vesemir and Eskel made breakfast. 

“Lambert, the fire in our room went out.” You told him as you walked into the kitchen. “Is Clea going to be okay?”

“Yeah, bug. She’ll be fine.” Lambert nodded his head. The corner of his lips turned up as he looked at you. “Did you sleep good?”

“I did. Would’ve slept better if that draft wasn’t so bad.” You straddled the bench that Lambert sat on and faced him. 

“M’gonna get it fixed.”

“M’still sleepy.” You whined, brows drawing together as you offered him a pitiful frown. 

“Poor baby.” Lambert teased you softly, letting you lean your head against his shoulder. You loosely wrapped your arms around his toros and closed your eyes. 

You stayed like that for a few moments, enjoying his presence, listening to the sounds of Eskel and Vesemir talking and to Lambert breathing. 

But then you felt something in Lambert’s doublet move. It wasn’t just him breathing. Something was moving, and it was moving in an odd way. 

You lifted your head up and peered around his arm, looking at the chest of his doublet. It was opened a little and his undershirt peeked out. 

“Staring isn’t nice, you know.” He teased. 

“Are you okay?” You found the bottom of his doublet and began to reach underneath, searching for whatever might have been feeling funny. 

“You might not want to do that, bug.” Lambert started, reaching for your arm but he didn’t get to you in time. 

Your hand made contact with a smooth warm surface and instantly, you pulled back. A gasp was sucked through your lips and you jumped out of your seat. You knew what Clea felt like from the very, very few times you had petted her and you knew you had just touched her. 

“La-Lambert!” You said his name, your breathing labored as your heart began to pound in your chest. 

“I tried to warn you, bug.” He said, reaching out for your hand. “Clea’s in there. She won’t hurt you.”

“Is she okay?” You heard someone ask. It could’ve been Vesemir or Eskel. Hell, it could’ve even been Yennefer. You couldn’t think straight at the moment. 

As you looked at the witcher in front of you, the python’s head poked out of the top of his doublet and her tongue flicked out. 

The room began to move around you like you were spinning in a circle and the noises were muffled. You brought your hand up to try to balance yourself on the table, but you missed the table all together. You watched as the floor came closer and closer to your face and then suddenly, everything was black.

***

“She’s waking up.” Eskel spoke. A cold hand pressed against your forehead. You whined. 

“She should be fine.” Vesemir said. “Didn’t hit her head. Clea just surprised her is all.”

“Your hand is cold.” You thought out loud, bringing your own hand up to rub your eyes.

“Sorry, Y/N.” Eskel apologized. “Didn’t want to pour water on you with it being so cold.”

“Geralt and Ciri should be back with firewood soon.” Lambert sighed. 

You lifted your head to see him sitting at the table. Clea was comfortably draped around his shoulders. 

You were laying on the floor just behind him. Underneath your head was a folded up cloak to provide support. 

“How are you feeling, bug?”

“M’okay.” You pushed yourself into a sitting position. “Should’ve expected you to have Clea in your doublet.”

“I tried to warn you.” He grinned a little. 

“How long was I out?”

“Maybe two minutes. Shorter than last time.”

“You’re keeping track?”

“Of course.” He held his hand out for you. You put your hand in his and let him help you to your feet. 

Your eyes stayed on Clea the entire time, watching the snake carefully.

“You wanna sit down by me, bug?” Lambert asked quietly, still holding your hand. “Or you wanna sit across from me?”

You chewed on the inside of your cheek for a moment, looking from the seat beside Lambert to the one across from him. You really wanted to sit beside him, but you didn’t want to be so fidgety and uncomfortable with Clea right there. You also didn’t want to make him take her upstairs to the cold bedroom. 

“I can sit across from you.” You told him, giving him a little smile. He nodded but didn’t let your hand go.

“Can I get a kiss?”

“Not with her around your neck.”

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If your name is in italics, it wouldn’t let me tag you :(

[cheri-translates]

[CN] Gavin’s Basketball Court Date (Eng Translation)

🍒 Warning: This post contains detailed spoilers for a date which has not been released in English servers! 🍒

Note: This is a cancelled date which will unlikely come to EN :’(

More from this Collection: Kiro // Lucien // Victor

The date begins with MC in the gym. She comments that it’s usually fully packed, and today is no exception. While leaving, she coincidentally meets Gavin at the entrance. 

He offers to send her home (even though he just arrived lol). He also invites her to join him for outdoor sports next time.

MC: Sure, but what are we going to do? A night run? Or our usual running?

Gavin: Let’s do something different. I’ll teach you basketball.

Basketball?!

This term leaves me shocked, and I suddenly feel like fleeing…

Even though getting smacked by the ball was something that happened back in high school, just the memory of it leaves me feeling faint.

It is nothing but a shadow of life.

MC: …but I have no idea how to play basketball...

Gavin: It’s okay, exercising is the main point.

MC: …

Gavin: Don’t worry, I’m here.

I look towards Gavin, his eyes carrying with it assurance, as though calling me to trust him.

MC: Mm… I’ll give it a try then! …don’t make fun of me if I play badly!

Gavin: Of course I wouldn’t. Are you free this weekend? I can pick you up.

I nod, agreeing to a date that I am both anticipating yet slightly worried about.

-

On Saturday afternoon, Gavin and I head to the outdoor court in Central Park. Although it is still morning, the courts already have quite a number of people.

I take in my surroundings and discover that most of the people consist of school boys, their movements bursting with energy. The sheer number of basketballs flying around the courts leave me shocked, and I unconsciously shirk backwards.

Gavin: What’s wrong?

MC: …I don’t know how to play basketball…

I lower my head and stare at my sport shoes, unable to say the five words: “I am afraid of basketball”.

Gavin hands me the ball.

Gavin: I picked up basketball late, and only started in Junior High.

MC: ?

Gavin: Back then, I was quite short so the seniors made fun of me. A year later, they couldn’t win against me.

I’m left flabbergasted. Minor mentioned that Gavin is amazing at basketball, but I didn’t expect to hear such a story behind it.

Although Gavin only gave me a brief summary, I know that he must have gone through a lot, and put in much effort during that one year.

Gavin: MC, enjoying the process of exercising is more important than anything else.

There is a smile on Gavin’s face.

He… must really like basketball. I can almost imagine him in the court, playing to his heart’s content.

Realising how much Gavin likes basketball, it no longer seems that frightening.

I muster my courage and pat the basketball, crinkling my eyes into a smile.

MC: A goal of mine today is to throw the ball through the hoop once! I’m going to trouble Coach Gavin to teach me from now onwards!

Gavin freezes for a moment.

Gavin: All right.

Gavin does a simple dribbling demonstration. It’s as though the basketball can understand his every command, remaining entirely in Gavin’s control.

I take a deep breath, deciding not to care about the flying basketballs around me. I focus on learning how to dribble the ball.

My current standard limits me to dribbling the ball in position. With a slight movement of my foot, the ball rolls away…

MC: I didn’t think dribbling the ball would be so difficult…

Gavin: There’s no rush, I’ll help to correct your movements.

I nod, cheering myself on once again.

Although my posture is awkward and odd, it seems like… basketball isn’t that scary after all…

Standing beside me, Gavin rests his hand on the small of my back.

Gavin: Relax a little more, your movements can’t be too stiff.

The warmth from his palm seeps through the thin material of my sports outfit, finding its way onto my skin.

It is only now that I realise how close we are. Just a slight lean of my head is enough to make contact with his face.

His eyebrows are bathed in sunlight, casting him in a gentle glow.

Gavin: When doing a low dribble, let your wrist be the axis. Use your wrist and the strength in your fingers to dribble. Like this.

His other hand gently holds onto my wrist. The resulting warmth and the warmth at my back mix together, painting my face a slight tinge of red.

I find myself in a daze, and am unable to speak for a long time.

Gavin’s eyes trail from the basketball to my face. Looking at my dazed state, the seriousness in his lips turns into a smile.

Gavin: Do you know what to do now?

His low voice and warm breaths enter my ear.

I unconsciously avoid his gaze, but accidentally make contact with his arm when dribbling the ball.

With a light cough, Gavin releases his hold on me. He rubs his neck, his ears turning red.

I apply Gavin’s techniques, and find that dribbling does become much easier.

Gavin: Try taking a few steps.

I try taking a few steps forward.

After an early afternoon of “intimate contact” with basketball, I no longer have a phobia of it. However, it is still difficult to master. With a slight movement, the ball rolls to a corner.

Gavin hands me the ball, comforting me once again.

Gavin: It’d be fine after you try a few more times.

Before I can say anything, I hear a man’s voice coming from the side.

Random man: If you’re playing like that, don’t take up space on the court!

Three young men are standing at the side of the basketball court. The one who just spoke has short hair.

Gavin moves to stand in front of me:

Seeing this, the short-haired man starts laughing.

Random man: Give us the court and go elsewhere to concentrate on your date! Your girlfriend can’t play well anyway haha!

The other two men join in the laughter.

I’m a little embarrassed and at a loss for words.

Gavin sweeps his eyes over them, then pulls me towards the basketball hoop, ignoring the three men.

It seems to be the first time the short-haired man has experienced being slighted, and his expression turns ugly.

Random Man: Let’s have a match. Whoever wins will get the court! How does that sound - do you dare to take me on?

Hearing this, Gavin stops and turns to look at him. The short-haired man laughs even more exaggeratedly.

Random Man: You’d lose out if it’s a 2-on-2 though, considering how your girlfriend doesn’t know how to play haha! I’ll give you a chance, how does a 1-on-1 sound?

I tug at the corner of Gavin’s shirt, a little worried.

Gavin: It’s fine.

Gavin assures me in a low voice, and then faces the three men.

Gavin: I’ll take on all three of you.

I widen my eyes in shock, and the three men are also visibly taken aback.

MC: ?!

The three men: What?!

Gavin: If you don’t dare to, then leave.

Random Man: Hmph, don’t accuse us of bullying you later!

An unplanned match begins. The rules are simple – whoever gets the ball through the hoop first wins.

Gavin takes on a casual posture as he dribbles the ball. Although he is alone, he exudes the aura of an entire team. The three men remain in front of the hoop, defending cautiously.

I am filled with a sudden spurt of spirit, running to the court and shouting:

MC: All the best Gavin!

Gavin doesn’t look towards me, but he suddenly goes on the offensive!

He is undeterred by the attempts of the three men to block him. The wind tousles his hair, and sunlight is reflected off his earring and into my eyes.

Building momentum with his spring-like movements, he takes a large leap. The sweat on his brow slides off his face and enters the air, glistening in the light.

He has a serious look on his face, entirely focused on the ball.

With a lift of his hand, the ball leaves the palm of his hand and fingers, forming a perfect parabola in the air.

With a “thud”, the ball steadily goes through the hoop!

MC: Amazing!

The three men are rooted to the spot, their expressions betraying utter disbelief.

-

After another period of training, I finally learn the basics of dribbling.

Gavin: Very good.

MC: It’s all thanks to your good teaching… even I find myself stupid…

Thinking of Gavin’s beautiful form when he shot the ball through the hoop, my heart does a flip.

MC: Um… could you teach me how to shoot next?

He nods and takes the ball. Within the span of a breath, Gavin dribbles the ball towards the net. The ball once again goes through the hoop!

MC: You’re amazing!

I copy Gavin’s movements, but the ball I toss completely misses the mark. The ball doesn’t even touch the board, much less the hoop.

MC: This is too difficult…

No matter how many times I try, the result is still the same… the basketball is in a completely different state when in my hands and Gavin’s.

I release a sigh.

Gavin moves to stand behind me, pulling both my hands over the top of my head, correcting my posture.

Gavin: Like this.

Perhaps due to our strenuous exercise, both of our breaths are warm. The temperature of the air surrounding us rises as a result.

My hands tremble and the basketball falls to the ground, rolling away.

Gavin: [coughs lightly] …let’s try again, following the same action as before.

MC: Okay…

I take deep breaths and try shooting the ball again, with slight improvements.

The temperature rises as noon sets in. Without realizing it, my forehead is completely drenched with sweat.

At this moment, a cool and refreshing object is pressed against my cheek.

I jump at the sudden coldness, whipping my head around to see Gavin standing behind me.

His lifts his head as he drinks from his bottle, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down.

The contents of the bottle refract the sunlight, morphing the white rays into a colorful, tiny rainbow.

Gavin: Drink some water.

MC: Mm!

I open the can and prepare to down several gulps, but Gavin stops me.

Gavin: Don’t drink too much. You’ve just finished exercising.

I nod, drinking a few small mouthfuls. The blazing heat of the day has left me in a slight trance.

Suddenly, a basketball comes flying towards me!

Before I can react, I find myself wrapped in a hug.

Gavin shifts us to the side quickly, avoiding the ball.

Gavin: MC, are you all right?!

MC: …

My eyes are wide. Gavin furrows his eyebrows, his expression worried.

The owner of the ball apologises profusely.

MC: I… I’m fine…

Looking at my frightened expression, Gavin holds my hand.

Gavin: That’s all for today. Let’s go.

MC: …why so sudden?

Gavin: You were really scared just now.

Gavin opens his mouth as though about to say something, but simply holds my hand tightly.

Could he have sensed that I’m afraid of basketball…

With this in mind, I summon my courage.

MC: I haven’t fulfilled my goal for today!

Seeing my smile, Gavin relaxes.

MC: Could you give me a demonstration again? I’ll definitely learn it this time!

Gavin nods, bringing me to a safer area on the court. He demonstrates how to dribble and shoot the ball.

Gavin: Try again?

MC: Okay!

Mimicking his posture, I take a leap, both arms raised over my head, exerting strength in my wrist to throw the ball…

The ball circles the hoop twice and falls through the hoop!

MC: !!!

I jump up excitedly, turning around and running to Gavin, excited to the point that I can barely form coherent sentences.

MC: Gavin, you, you saw that right! It went in, it really went in! I’m not dreaming, am I?

Gavin: You’re amazing.

He looks at me, his eyes smiling and filled with commendation.

The look in his eyes alleviates the tightness in my chest, and I finally relax.

MC: Before today, I was quite scared of basketball… I was smacked by a basketball in high school, and I’ve been scared of it ever since. I never thought that I’d be able to shoot it through a hoop today!

Gavin reaches out and rubs my head gently.

Gavin: Does it still hurt?

MC: Ah? …it stopped hurting a long time ago! It was quite strange actually – even though I’m afraid of basketball, every time I’m on duty for P.E. class, it’d always happen to be a lesson on basketball. I think I once met you in the gymnasium…

It was already very late back then. I thought the gymnasium would be empty, but I saw Gavin shooting hoops. He played for a long time, and there were several basketballs by his feet.

By the time I finished my homework and returned to the gymnasium to clean up, the floor had not a single trace of basketballs. They were all neatly returned into the basket.

MC: …at that time, I didn’t have the chance to thank you.

Gavin: Thank me for what?

MC: You might have forgotten… you helped me pack up the basketballs in the gymnasium…

Gavin doesn’t respond. He turns to look at me, the corner of his lips turning up into a smile. He takes my hand.

I look at him, not knowing what to say.

MC: You…

In the next second, Gavin embraces me gently.

His breath envelops me.

I hear the sound of steady heartbeats.

Gavin: MC, I remember everything.

[k1ng-for-a-day]

Can you do fluff and nsfw headcanons the nurse x survivor s/o?i think sally deserves love.. thank you!

Good morning my beautiful demons. The king has finally arrived, and I like to say I’m VERY SORRY for the inactivity. Due to schooling, my motivation to create posts is AWFUL. So please stay patient! If I haven’t gone to your requests, then again I’m sorry.

(And also yes Sally needs more attention 🥺🥺)

(And sorry for this being so short. Again I’m having a huge lack of motivation. Either way thank you very much 💞💞)

The Nurse has arrived...

💊💉 Upon arrival to the realm, you made a quick realization that you were at the Crotus Penn Asylum. This was the worst place that you were put in due to the cathedral like building in front of you. Maybe it was due to the eerie feeling, but something or someone triggered terrible thoughts to your head. Syringes: These tiny little things made you feel nauseous every time it like you. Additionally it made you feel terrified each time one appeared near you. Hell, even when it’s on your hand you start to shriek! These small needles just made you curl up in fetal position, and weep on the floor. It was technically a phobia since it was that bad.

💊💉 Nevertheless you knew you what you had to do. Get generators done, attempt to hide, and escape without blood on your hands. That was all.

💊💉 When you finally reached your first generator, you quietly crouched down and walked towards it, attempting not to alert anyone. Once you reached it you decided to work on the wire portion of the machine since it was an immense hassle. You never enjoyed working these little strings of torment since they would always function improperly, or they would be inadequate. Additionally you despised the fact that it could possibly blow a fuse if you made the wrong plug in, use the incorrect wires, or simply have the incorrect tools for it. (However this only applied with the toolbox). Nevertheless your ambition got the better of you, and you persisted. You wanted to get this terrible gut feeling out of you, so you needed to complete this efficiently.

💊💉 Though you could feel the taste of an exit door holding you graciously, you accidentally put the incorrect wires together. As you stared for an hour or two, you shook your head in disbelief. Shit! They’re going to kill me! You thought for a brief moment, and you quickly went in hiding. You crouched down to a corner, and held onto your knees hoping the killer would just pass by you. The fear of something poking you at any instant grew immensely, and that uneasy gut feeling made you tremble weakly. Your fragile body being slashed at and picked up, your whole entire plan being frabricated in seconds; everything was seemingly ruined. But why did you have this hopeless feeling? There wasn’t anyone near you since there was no terror radius. Then again it could be Ghostface... You thought for a bit, but proceeded back to your Gen. and surprisingly it wasn’t kicked! You completed the generator in no time, and went running to the next one.

💊💉 The next generator you approached was with someone you knew, but never interacted too much with outside the trials. It was Meg: the athletic workaholic. She always loved to loop killers around, and annoy them somewhat. She’s always a bundle of joy during these types of circumstances, and tries to comfort other people. She’s also immensely competitive, yet plays fair. You always strived to be like her, but with her dedication and hard work it’s nearly impossible to make headway like she does. Nevertheless you crouched down next to her, and worked on a different portion of the Gen. This particular portion was the power supply. All you had to do was make sure the energy levels were all evenly dispersed, and if they weren’t you had to remove a piece and plug it in a different section. This was much more difficult to fail since it didn’t require experience with wires and such. It was just a simple “where does it go?” Type of deal. Unfortunately, Meg accidentally blew a fuse do to her sudden excitement. And even worse; you heard a terror radius. You didn’t know who it was in particular, but you were terrified needless to say. You quickly hid in a locker since it was the closest thing near you, even though you knew they would search it. You held onto your mouth, trying not to make a sound, and closed your eyes. You imagined that you were dancing in the middle of your room with your favorite song. The anxious feeling in your stomach was dissolving, but you still heard the terror radius coming closer, closer, and even closer... you started to cry softly, trying not to alert them, but it was too late.

💊💉 When you saw the killer, your eyes shot wide and tears ran down your cheeks. It was the nurse: the most terrifying killer you’ve ever met. You always heard rumors about the syringe she carries, and how aggressive she can be to other survivors. She’s so quick to her feet that she could easily pull you to the ground. It made you tremble immensely to the point you started to cry even more. You never really looked at her hand since you were afraid to encounter the weapon she would carry, but oddly enough she didn’t even take you. She just stared at you blankly, or you assumed she did, and simply patted your head. She realized how scared you were since you were either new to the place, or you had some sort of phobia. In attempt to make you feel a bit more happy, she picked up a flower that she found on the ground, and handed it to you. She then left you in your little closet, hoping that you would come out and feel much more stronger. And surprisingly you were more collected with yourself. You slowly went out of your locker, and walked back to your generator. It was kicked, but not insanely a lot. Just enough to motivate you to continue.

💊💉 And just like that you were finally finished! Now all you had to do was move on to the next generator. And you were done. And fortunately enough your team only needed one more Gen... Coincidentally it was near you, so course you ran towards it.

💊💉 While the nurse was distracted by the other survivors, slashing them one by one, you quickly worked on the wires, slowly placing them in the correct order. You were becoming use to the way everything was, I mean you were slightly new to the world of the entity.

💊💉 For a while you forgot how you ended up here, but that nurse you met reminded you of certain aspects: syringes, people with blurred faces, and a commotion in the halls. That was all you could gather from that meeting. It gave you a chill down your spine, even though now was not the time. You needed to concentrate on your goal, which was to finish the generator and leave. Luckily someone approached you with a soft smile, and that person was Adam. He seemed very nice and philosophical. He would always talk on and on about what he believed, what books he read, and his advice towards you. Sometimes it got to the point you would zone out and forget what you asked him. You could tell he was very intelligent, but his mouth was what led him to victory. Nevertheless you continued on your Gen until you heard a familiar noise... it was the nurse! She was coming straight towards Adam with her hatch saw!

💊💉 Weirdly enough you kept hearing people talk about her holding a syringe instead of a saw. Maybe it was to torment you since you were alarmed easily. But currently it made absolutely no sense why people would confuse such a dangerous object to something more painful like a saw. You shook your head in disbelief, and was about to finish the Gen, however you accidentally blew another fuse! Quickly and quiet you looked behind you, and crouched down near a corner. She was coming quickly and saw you right then and there. She simply stared at you again, and reached her hand out.

💊💉 “Dont be afraid dear child,” she spoke to you, “I won’t hurt you as long as you don’t hurt me.” Her voice seemed to be genuine, semi intangible, and monotone. You took a good look at her before reaching out your hand: she seemingly had a bag on her head for some odd reason. Additionally she had blood all over her white unform. Her blood was possibly due to the other victims she has come acrossed and attacked, but then again it could possibly from her past. You didn’t want to ask since you were terrified. Additionally she seemed very hesitant to actually take you with her. She wasn’t really to sure if she should’ve even picked you to take care of in the current situation. Either way she just hoped you got her message clear. She didn’t want to actually hurt you, she wanted to take you out alive. In response, you reached your hand out and touched her’s. It felt immensely cold, like an ice cube or even a glacier. She then pulled you up from your position, and led you back to your generator. She stood beside you, and let you work on the machine, hoping you would finish it soon enough. She then left you to complete it, and chased down other survivors as well.

💊💉 Once you finished your Gen, you ran to the exit and pulled the gate open as quickly as possible. Someone was near you as well, and that person was Zarina. She waited patiently for the door to open, and asked you a couple questions about your arrival. These questions being “how are you doing so far? Are you alright?” And other similar ones to make sure you were alright. She didn’t want you to be scared, but wanted you to relax for right now. She seemed nice to you, but you weren’t very sure of it. Again, you were still new to this realm, so you didn’t want to mess around too much. As the exit gate opens, you heard that same noise, and suddenly the nurse appeared again! She stood in front of you, holding her saw, ready to strike! But she didn’t... she just stood in front of you... “Be careful dear... others will be harsh...” she told you, somewhat unintangible. You nodded and was about to leave, but you turned back. “Thank you... very much..” you told her and left. For some odd reason you felt saddened for leaving her. It was strange..

💊💉 After you left, you remembered how you came here, but you could barely vision it. A hospital, an exit, patients galore. It all came back to you within seconds it seemed. Again you weren’t really sure of it too much. Nevertheless you wanted to see the nurse again, and talk to her. Even though it may seem difficult, she probably would actually talk to you but not so much. She barely has a tangible voice in general, so she probably would barely talk since it may hurt her.

💊💉 One day, you saw her again, and you tried to go up to her. However, unlike last time, she was much more harsher towards you. Instead of approaching you kindly, she chased you around, striking you or attempting to. This behavior made you immensely scared to the point you trembled to the ground. Then it hit you. Your memories, fears, and visions of that night... that one night that landed you here...

💊💉 From what you remember vaguely, there was a hospital you use to work at with many clients. Those patients were very needy, and forced you to do things for them. Those tasks were to give them more medicine every hour, everyday until they snap. This place felt like a living hell for you, especially since you had no idea why they wanted to be injected. It got to the point they labeled you as “Dr. Injector” in order to tease you. One day you stopped giving them their precious medicine, and explained to them that they were running out of samples. However, they believed that you were lying considering the fact that this was the most rich hospital in your state. They went after you, chasing you down the halls, ripping at your clothes, until suddenly you flew through the exit! Unfortunately it wasn’t what you had intended it to be. It was a void like substance, staring back at you with those saddened, terrified eyes. You then arrived at a new location, brimmed with fear.

💊💉 From that moment you started to cry, desperately trying to get up from where you were. Unfortunately she picked you up before you could escape, however she didn’t hook you. Instead she took you to a certain location and put you down. She patted your head gently, trying to reassure you. The other members of your team were completing generators, and here you were right next to the killer. She then began to speak, “I’m sorry... I had too...” she seemingly whispered, “the entity... was after me...”

💊💉 What basically happened was that the killers criticized her when she would spare new survivors, and try to act friendly. Once this rumor spread around, the entity started to get fed up with her bullshit, and forced her to kill ever single survivor. If she was unable to do so, he would take something precious from her, and burn it in a fire. He would then use her as a puppet or decoration for a new killed. You satred at her in disbelief, and hugged her gently. This was terrible: having to be forced into killing others just because of your friendly nature? It was unimaginable. She stared at you, with what you can assume a melancholy glint, and hit you softly. You instantly fell on the ground, and were hooked. You closed your eyes and let the entity sacrifice you...

💊💉 Once you were back at the lobby, you cried silently away from everyone. You really wanted to see her again, but it would be immensely difficult. Luckily the match was finally over, and all the killers might’ve been talking with each other. You slowly went over to the killer area, sneaking past several security type things, and entered the area. You slowly tried to find the nurse, but you were met with other killers instead. The first one you recognized was Ghostface, but he was talking with someone that you saw as well. Another survivor here? Is this normal..? Next you saw Michael talking with another killer, and then you saw her. The nurse all by herself, sighing in relief. You quickly ran up to her, trying not to get caught, and wanted to jump out to hug her. However, someone already caught you...

💊💉 The entity caught you in the act, and tried to drag you away from her! You tried to remove yourself from him, but it was no use! You kept being pulled back into your lobby, and you were immensely weakened! You could barely even stand!

💊💉 Once you realized your circumstance, you held onto your knees and started to cry. You knew it was no use in seeing her. It was unfortunate how you could never seen her again. Maybe not even in another match..

💊💉 The next day you heard someone or something enter the lobby. They were immensely quiet, but you recongnized the noise. It was her.. next to you... alone...

💊💉 “Hello my dear...” she whispered, “I’m sorry for not coming towards you...” she apologized, and you hugged her in response. You wanted to make sure she felt okay, comfortable, and happy. You told her about a vision you had the other day, and she sighed. It was similar to her story as well.

💊💉 Basically she moved into a small town with her husband, smiling hand in hand. However he unfortunately died, and she was alone. With no other way to sustain herself, she had to work at the Crotus Penn Asylum, which was filled with patients that verbally, physically, and even mentally abused her. One day she just snapped and killed them all. Their blood was all over the walls, the beds, and simply everywhere you looked. She went insane.

💊💉 You held her hand gently and tried to reassure her. You told her that Andrew’s death wasn’t her fault, and that she would be alright. You both ended up cuddling against each other until the next day. You were finally happy, and had someone with you to keep you comfortable. To keep you as safe as possible.

[justoneday-namjoonii]

Don’t Breathe | 3.0

»Genre: hitman!au || stalker!au ||

»Warnings: kidnapping, stalking, obsession, themes of potential Stockholm syndrome, mono-phobia, mature elements, manhandling, breakdowns, yandere (? i think ), he thinks it’s cute when she cries, eventually they fall in love, Disclaimer: I do not condone nor suggest stalking/kidnapping or anything of that nature, this is pure fiction ok, kidnappers and stalkers DON’T love you.

»Summary: He doesn’t get shaky hands, he never forgets his gloves and he never leaves a trail. He was told to get rid of everyone who witnessed the conversation between a gang lord and a politician, they were picked off, one by one. He found out a month ago, he missed one. A young writer who attended the event where the exchange took place. He has to kill her. Can he do it?

✤ pt.1 - pt.2 - pt.2.5 - pt.3.0 - pt. 3.5 - pt. 4.0 - pt.4.5

A/n: it’s literally been a long a** while, but it’s here💙 ps will edit later probably

“Okay, ma’am, can you explain to me how you found out she was missing one more time? I just want to verify that the report is consistent with what you told us previously.”

“Sure,” Suzy squirmed in her seat, feeling squeamish due to the busy police station. “I went to her apartment to check on her because her upcoming article was missing and she never forgets to log in her articles. She wasn’t answering my calls or texts, I got worried. When I knocked on her door, I didn’t get an answer, but that’s when I saw that the door was unlocked. I walked inside and everything looked normal but she wasn’t there, and her necklace was on the floor,”

Her mouth goes dry the more she recalls the emptiness of your home, the sheer horror she felt when she saw your most prized possession on the ground.

“She never goes anywhere without that necklace.”

“Alright ma’am, have you seen or heard from her on any social media in the last 24 hours?”

“No, I haven’t…”

She smiled. “Okay. Our officers will do everything they can to find her, alright? So don’t worry too much, she might’ve left her phone off or something, things like that happen all the time.” The woman laughed a bit, nonchalantly, as if she wasn’t talking about a human being who could be scared for her life. 

“Alright, thank you…”

She left the station, heart heavy. And she couldn’t figure out why, but something about the woman’s words made her feel worse.

You woke up really early, around 4 or 5 in the morning, and you were trying so hard to quietly try to open the window but it was bolted shut. You tried the door, but even that was locked from the outside. After an hour or so, you gave up and went to sleep.

But you’re up now, and you’re trying to escape, again. 

You screamed at the top of your lungs but you know you weren’t heard by a soul. He had cuffed you again while you were asleep and it was extra tight, you felt like your wrists were being crushed. You were furious. You were mad at that monster, the restraints, and the stupid bed he left you on. You started to think, how will I be able to escape? What did I do wrong? Is this really the life I have to live now?

Your thoughts are interrupted by a wobbling doorknob and you freeze, watching it open slowly. It’s him of course.

“Why are you screaming?” He looks annoyed and you curl into the corner, brows furrowed. 

“Why do you think?” You spat, yanking against the cuff instinctively as you have the strongest urge to scratch him.

“Listen,” He approaches the bed and you lean into the corner as he takes a seat on the edge, “I’m being very generous. I’ve given you food, left you in very humane living conditions...Do you want to go down to the basement like an animal? Is that what you want?”

“I want you to let me go.” 

“Well, that’s not gonna happen,” He stands to his feet and stares down at you, making you feel ten times smaller than you already did. 

“We need to talk about some things. I have someone coming over, someone who wanted you dead and thinks you’re dead. So, if you want to stay alive, you need to listen. I’m going to put you in my room and you’re gonna stay there until he leaves.”

“Who- Who wants me dead?...” You stutter.

“My boss, he gave me the job. If he finds out I took a hostage in instead of selling you to him or killing you, he won’t be happy.” He takes in a breath and looks you over, your wrists are all bruised up. “Are you going to cooperate and walk to the room or do I have to drag you?”

“Take these ropes off my hands and you’ll find out.”

He shrugs. “Ok.” 

You’re taken aback when he kneels on the bed and waits for you to turn your back towards him. Cautiously, you turn your back to him and he starts to loosen your binds. When you feel that your hands are free, you turn to sit on your butt and rub your wrists. 

“I didn’t think you’d actually do it...” It’s only now that you realize that he’s staring at you, and you make the mistake of meeting his gaze. His eyes are surprisingly soft and you hadn’t noticed it before, they’re captivating and you force yourself to look away.

“Come on, he’ll be here soon.” With that, he walks out of the room, assuming that you’ll follow him, you don’t.

He looks at you, waiting for you to realize that you’re being unnecessarily difficult. When you see the slight move towards you, you decide to get up and follow him. He takes you down the hall and after a few turns, he walks into a large bedroom, one that’s well kept and fresh-smelling. Once you’re both inside, he closes the door.

“If you get hungry, there’s a mini-fridge in the closet,”  He points to the closet, “If he finds out you’re here, we’ll both be in trouble.” With that, he closes the door—funny how he doesn’t lock its door, assuming you won’t try to leave.

This isn’t the best idea, having the person who thinks you’re dead in the house with you. But there was no way he could say no to Minho, that’s his boss and it would look odd if he canceled. While waiting for his guest, he orders some food. He placed the order at his regular take out place and went to the kitchen to wait.

What am I doing? This is the most reckless decision he’s ever made. In an attempt to reason with himself, he blamed his change of heart on the fact that he met you—he should have never run into you. The rules are simple, don’t make contact with the target, don’t get attached, don’t watch them for too long or you will get attached. He did all of that, and now he’s finding out why those rules were made in the first place. 

He hears a knock on the door and pushes those thoughts away.

When he lets his boss inside, any thoughts he had of you vanished and he became the person his boss knows him as. Emotionless, calm. 

“I wanted to talk to you about your last job,” Minho takes a seat in his living room, in his usual seat in near the window—he always said the view was priceless and to let him know if he were ever willing to sell, “I heard from an informant at the police station that she was reported as missing, do you know anything about that,” He takes a sip of the tea Tae always gives him.

“No, I don’t,” He deadpans, taking a seat and turning the music down with a low command to the speaker, “the girl is gone.”

“They found a necklace at the scene, the woman who went to check on her, I think it was her boss or something, said she doesn’t go anywhere without it,” Minho relaxes, exhaling in thought, “it’s getting a little messy.”

“That comes with the job sometimes,” the doorbell rings and Tae is thankful for the speedy delivery, the growing tense air was beginning to suffocate him. After putting the portion he bought for you in the fridge, he brings the food to the living room.

“But she’s not a high-profile target, she’s a writer,” Yet, people are worried about your disappearance.

After a few minutes of sitting on his massive bed, you choose to disregard his instructions and crack the door to try to listen to what they were saying. Gosh, the food smelled good.

“What did you do with her?”

“You know I don’t like to tell, but she’s taken care of,” Taehyung opened up his food, “this will blow over eventually.”

“And if it doesn’t?”

“Not much I can do about that,” 

Minho laughs, wondering why some useless girl would be the issue they have to face with a case as sensitive as this one. “You should have sold her to me, I’d make good use of her. And teach her a lesson on minding her own business, if it wasn’t for her, you wouldn’t have had to go back to the job. She was your first female and your youngest target yet, I went through your headcount file.”

“Yeah, she was around my age,” 

“She was cute too, would’ve done well at House Lucia’s,” That dreaded place, “but I know you don’t like that place but it’s better than the other options.” Minho pulls a letter out of his suit and sits it on the coffee table.

“That’s your next job, Park’s gonna join you.”

Taehyung cringed, anyone but Park.

“Why Park?” He opens up the envelope and examines the case.

“He’s skilled with squeezing information out of people. Besides, it’s not an eliminate the target case. Go to the Gala, Park will handle the mistresses and you find the guy. Do you accept it? It’s a 75k payout.”

“Yeah, when is it?”

“Tonight,” Minho gets up, “he’ll be here tonight. Attire is formal and he’ll have your invitations. I enjoyed lunch, as always,” Tae walks him to the door and his boss goes to the backseat of the car that came for him.

“Same here,” He bids him goodbye and closes the door he breathing a sigh of relief.

“You can come out, I know you’re listening.”

Shoot.

You creep out of the hallway and stand at the banister, looking down at him. 

“I bought you some food, you can eat it in my room,” He walks to the kitchen to get it out of the fridge and when he walks upstairs, you’re already back in his room. 

You eye him as he enters the room, glancing at you when he sits the food on the end of the bed. He kneels down and suddenly he’s cuffing your ankles together, you frown, not responding fast enough to move

“Why are you-”

“I’m gonna let you stay in here while I work on some things, I don’t want you to run.” He stands to his feet and you sit on his bed, you wondered, how could he have known that you planned to run from him.

 “I’m bringing you back to the basement tonight, so enjoy this while it lasts.” 

It’s a Styrofoam plate, harmless enough. You hesitantly lift the lid to see white rice and other little sides, it looks good but you don’t want to eat it, not while he’s in here.

“How could I enjoy this? You have me chained up, how could anyone enjoy this...” You mumble. 

“Eat.” 

That’s all he says before sitting at his desk and turning on his desk top, ignoring you.

Eventually, you decided that you weren’t going to miss out on getting food. If you’re going back to the basement, there’s no telling if he’ll forget you again. 

So you eat, but you do it spitefully.

He scrolls through the hundreds of file his target database with the letter G until he finds the mans name. Gorka, Ulysses. The man is a big-time statesmen, he has his hands in a lot of underground stuff and it seems like the ex-wife did too, she’s the one who paid for job. He scoffs, the man probably has no idea she’s hiring people to end his entire empire—this is one of the interesting parts of his job, the research.

“Um,” You clear your throat and he looks back at you from writing something in his notebook, “I have to use the restroom...”

“Go ahead,” Pointing to his bathroom, he turns back and continues his writing.

You take small steps towards the his bathroom and you close the door behind you, locking it.

Even though he’s fine with the job, he’s never liked working with partners, disturbs his process a little bit. But he’s fine with being flexible, looks good on his resume.

When you finish washing your hands, you slowly open the bathroom door to see him looking through a drawer under his bed. It’s hard to see what he picked up, but you look a little harder and realize that it’s some of your clothes. You shudder, thinking of how he acquired your belongings when he took you from your house.

He looks back at you when you walk further into the room, your awkward search for somewhere to sit catching his attention.

“You’re in a better situation than you would have been,” He turns to you, hair dangling over his piercing eyes, “you’re lucky...”

You frown, unsure of where he’s going with that. How could you be lucky? Right before your big article, you get kidnapped and forced to live with your kidnapper. “Are you serious?...” You couldn’t believe what he just said. “How am I lucky?” 

No response. 

“Hey, did you hear me?” You raise your voice, standing to your feet. “This isn’t luck!”

Calmly, he eyes you.

“I want to go to the basement, put me in there.” Your request catches him off guard but he shrugs, turning back around as if you didn’t even say anything. “Fine, I’ll go myself...”

You try to walk to the door anyway, your shuffling not letting you leave as quick as you wanted to. Before you can even make it halfway, he’s closing the door with a slam and locking it. 

“Get on the bed.” His eyes lock on yours like a predator to prey—you have goosebumps.

“But I just want to go back to the basement, I won’t run.” You’re frozen where you stand, trying to determine his temperament. “Just leave me down there-”

“What did I just say?” His tone firms as he slowly approaches you.

“But- But you’re gonna put me down there anyway- Ah!” You gasp when you’re shoved back first onto the bed, holding you down by your arms as he kneels one knee between your legs. Eyes wide and heart-pounding, you whine, words not leaving your mouth.

“Do you know how lucky you are that you’re here? Had you been assigned to someone else, do you have any idea where you’d be right now,” He leans down, limiting the proximity between your faces but you turn your face to the side, trying to push your face into the comforter below you, “you’re a target, you’re not being treated like a target and you need to realize that. Stop acting out.” 

He let’s go of one of your arms in favor of turning your face to him. “Look at me.” 

“No, no-” Tears stream down your face and your nose glows red, your sinuses responding to your weeping. You use your now free arm to try to push his chest, he shakes his head at your poor attempt. 

He let’s go of your arm so he can snatch both your wrists and holds them to your abdomen with one hand. 

“You’re gonna stay in this room until I take you downstairs. If you act like this when I try to grant you some freedom, I’ll give you something to cry about.” Your breathing is shaky and you sniffle, eyes watery and wide. He wipes a tear from your eye with his knuckle and lets you go, walking back to his chair as if he didn’t just threaten your life.

Still in shock, you curl up on the bed and do the only thing you can do—you cry. He’s not phased by your fit at all, he continues to finish his work as your whimpers accompany his soft piano music on his Bluetooth speaker. 

This is really happening. 

Normally, you’d scold yourself for feeling sorry for yourself. You’d tell yourself that there are people who are suffering far more than you are—that you shouldn’t complain, you’re lucky. But you’ve never felt more unlucky, you’ve never felt more alone.

After a good two hours, he notices that your cries aren’t heard anymore and he looks at the bed, you had cried yourself to sleep. Poor thing, he thinks to himself. It’s about time for him to get ready to go, so you finally get your wish to return to the basement. He picks you up and walks you down the stairs, your out cold the whole walk. 

He hopes you’ll find it more comfortable, he made you a fluffy safe haven on the corner of the large space. While you slept, he set up the plushy floor cushion that he ordered last night so you wouldn’t have to sleep on a padding-less mat. It was pretty expensive but he didn’t mind the price, it actually complimented the basement nicely. Laying you on the cushion, he un-cuffs your ankles. Instead of the small ones, he uses a long-chained cuff attached to the steel on the wall behind the cushion and hooks it to your wrist.

He covers you up with a fluffy blanket, caressing the side of your face when you snuggle against the cover, sighing in comfort.

Admittedly, he wishes you’d look that comfortable with him one day, sigh in his arms. In time, he hopes you’ll be able to realize that everything he’s doing is to spare your life.

He slips his gloves off, tossing them in the bin outside the lavish room in the wide-open halls of the mansion. After adjusting his suit jacket, he looks down at his watch, it’s getting late. 

The party is still going on downstairs and now that the dirty work is done, he needs to find Park Jimin. A short walk past the many bedrooms and just when he thinks he should go look downstairs, he hears a giggling female. That means Jimin isn’t far. He approaches what looks like a powder room.

When he slowly opens the door he immediately turns his head, rolling his eyes, such class.

He takes out his phone and calls him, hoping that’ll get him to hurry up. With that, he takes a walk to the stairs and not long after, Jimin is fumbling out of the room, hair disheveled.

Our little secret, remember? Taehyung nearly throws up when he hears him say that to the woman who’s at least ten years older than him. He looks back at his temporary partner, watching as he zips his fly with the utmost class if that were possible.

“Hey, I got a little sidetrack, but I have what I need,” He walks beside him, a red glow on his cheeks, “you?”

“Of course.” Tae shrugs, “We should head out.”

“Already?” Jimin scoffs. “You’re no fun, Kim.” 

Shaking his head, the two of them leave the party swiftly, Jimin’s Lambo growling in the night as Taehyung sits restless, he left you too long. He wonders if Jimin can pick up on his eagerness to get home, he’s sure it’s not that detectable. These jobs were never his thing, alcohol, too many people, too many distractions. 

When Jimin drops him off but asks to come in so he can use the restroom.

“Down the hall, to your right.” Taehyung points, taking off his suit jacket and tossing it on the couch. For the life of him, he hopes you don’t start screaming, the last thing he needs is for Jimin to find out that you’re here.

It's painstakingly long few minutes before he breathes in relief, Jimin is walking down the hall, wiping his hands.

“It was a pleasure Taehyung, as always,” He leaves out of the front door with a wave.

Locking the door with the app on his phone, he waits for a few minutes. Just long enough to know Jimin had pulled out of the hallway and is halfway down the road.

Quickly, he goes to the kitchen to get you a snack and some water. He puts it on a plate and goes to the basement door, he presses his ear against the door to see if he could hear you moving around. Sniffling, he hears your sniffling and his heart drops a little bit.

He opens the door, the sound of his footsteps prompts you to wipe your face, he doesn’t get to see me cry again, that’s what you told yourself. You stare at him as he walks down the stairs, he’s wearing a dress shirt and dress pants. The dark blue silk shirt is rolled up to his elbows and a little unbuttoned, you assume he went somewhere fancy.

“Are you hungry?”

You shake your head no, not looking him the eyes.

“Well, I’ll leave it, just in case you change your mind,” He sits it on the cushion right beside you. For a moment, he stares at you for a bit longer than what most would deem comfortable.

“I bought this for you,” He’s referring to the cushion he so kindly chained you to, “hopefully you’ll sleep better.” Still refusing to give him eye contact, you bite at your lip anxiously, why won’t he just leave you alone?

He lightly touches your hand and you flinch away, a panicked glint in your eyes as you press yourself to the back of the cushion to be as far from his as possible. He backs away from you, a little confused. 

“Hey, it’s okay,” He furrows his brows, eyes landing on your wrists, still bruised from your previous attempts to get away, “You need something on those bruises, I have a salve that’ll help,” He stands from his kneeling position.

“I’ll be back,” With that, he retreats upstairs.

As soon as the door closes, you wait a few seconds but eventually, you reach for the water and take a small sip. For all you know, he could have put something in the water, but you choose not to care.

It’s not long before he’s open the door, skipping down the stairs in sweats and a t-shirt, the salve in his hands, and what looks like cloth bandage.

“You drank some water, that’s good,” He’s scarily observant. Naturally, as if he had done it a thousand times, he reaches for your arm but you don’t shy away. What he had said to you early today comes to your mind so you decide not to give him any reason to fulfill the threats. 

Sitting on the cushion beside you, he brings one of your wrists to his lap. You watch him gather some of the salves on his fingers before gently applying it to your skin. He does the same thing to the one hand he has chained and then wraps them in the soft cloth, careful not to make it to tight. When he closes up the jar, you bring your hands to yourself and you look at him, his face illuminated by the dim lights.

“I’ve never done this before,” He speaks suddenly, “I don’t know if that makes you feel any better.”

“It doesn’t...” You mutter, staring down at the metal circle on your wrist. 

“I don’t expect you to trust me, but everything I’ve done, it’s not what you think.” He turns to you, causing you to look away once again. “You’re a good person, it’s nothing you did.”

“Then let me leave,” You swallow, “I- I promise, I won’t tell anyone, just let me go home, my family will be devastated when if they find out. I heard that guy you were talking to, someone reported me as a missing person, that means someone is looking for me... ”

He sighs. “I can’t.”

“Why not? You don’t seem like a bad person. If something in you is telling you to let me go, why don’t you listen to it?” You quietly plead, hoping your desperate tone affected him in some way.

“If they find out that I let you go, if my boss finds out that you’re still alive-...I can’t let that happen, you know too much, he’ll kill you.”

“The article is destroyed, so the guy who wanted it gone has nothing to worry about, I don’t understand why I even matter...”

“You just do. You can’t bargain with me about this. If there was a way for me to let you free without anything bad happening to me or you, I’d do it, but there’s not...” He pushes his hair back, brows furrowed in what seems to be distress.

He sighs, “I’ve never been assigned someone so young, you’re so close to my age. And I probably could’ve completed the job, but when I met you, and I looked in your eyes...” His words trail off and he stands up. “I couldn’t do it.”

“I feel like I’m being punished...” You look away, hands finicky, “I don’t feel like I’m being saved or protected, do you have any idea how afraid I am of you? You’re a stranger who’s saying all the things that I don’t know anything about, and you’re keeping me locked up in a basement. What you’re doing to me, it’s wrong...”

He suddenly gets on his knees and kneels in front of you, taking your hands into his despite your efforts to pull away.

“I hope you’ll understand that this is the only way like I said...You might eventually learn to like me, but you don’t have to,” He looks up at you, his doe eyes looking incredibly sincere, very different from how you’ve been seeing him, “and I won’t make you.”

You bite your bottom lip, “I don’t want to be here...” 

Suddenly, he reaches a hand up and cups the back of your head. “it’ll be okay,” The size of his hand is now brought to your realization when his finger grazes your ear. He presses his forehead to yours and your eyes squeeze shut a the contact. When you feel your nose almost touch his, you instinctively jerk back and your hand responds on its own accord.

The sound of skin bluntly meeting skin is heard and you’re cowering back, immediately regretting your innate response. He lifts his hand to his now reddened cheek, he didn’t expect it to hurt so bad—you’re stronger than you look.

“Don’t- I just- Were you trying to kiss me?...” You stammer, a frown on your face. When you don’t fully elaborate, you settle on your own conclusion that he knows what you’re trying to say. He looks up at you finally, now standing tall above you. 

He grabs your wrist, tugging you forward. It hurts a little but you stay silent, “This is why I like you, Y/n, that fiery spirit,” He suddenly drops your hand, seeming as if he decided not to physically respond. His response leaves you speechless, it’s not what you expected, “keep it up, you’re tempting me...”

With that, he leaves the basement and flicks off the light. “Goodnight,”

After staring at the door for a good minute, you decide it’s safe enough for you to lay down. You’re not sure how to feel about him right now. But for some reason, fear and apprehension aren’t as intense as before. And you might be wrong, but he sounded like he was convicted about doing all of this to you. Maybe he was just trying to make you feel like you could trust him, it’s hard to tell. But if there’s one thing for sure, something in your gut tells you that he’s not bad, he’s not the monster that you thought he was...

“She’s missing, her supervisor called me, said I was on her old emergency contact list,” He holds his phone between his shoulder and ear, not in a million years did he think he’d be calling his ex-girlfriend's mother with information like this, “don’t worry too much, I’ll try to get in contact with her.” 

It’s been a few weeks since you two have talked, so when Suzy called him, his heart just dropped. Even after your break-up, almost a year ago, you two considered yourselves friends. The two years you shared together were great. You were thriving in your career, he finishing Med-school so he could begin his residency. Many nights were spent with you staying late at the office, or him pressing for finals—your lives just weren’t merging. That’s when you both decided you were better off as friends. But you still have platonic love for each other

“Dr. Kim, I switched shifts with Katelyn,” Sara, the new medical assistant at the clinic peeked on through the open office door, ”I’ll make sure she gets those messages,”

He nods, getting his keys so he can head out too. When he leaves, getting his car, he decides to shoot you a text, hoping you might respond.

Jin: Hey love, I know it’s been awhile, hope you’re doing okay. I got a call from your supervisor this morning, apparently I was still on your emergency contact list at work. She said she went to your house and you were’t there. She waited 24 hours and you still hadn’t shown up to work , contacted anybody. She went to the police station, reported you as missing. If you’re okay, please contact me or anyone, I’m a little worried

Taehyung lies in his bed, not bothering to slide under the sheets, his skin is warm to-touch. His cheek still stings, the feeling brings the image of your face to his mind, and he feels remorse. Never in all his years alone, did he think he’d long for someone's company, someone's gaze meeting his. This penthouse has always been a bit lonely, all this money and space, it can’t take the form of a person. A companion. 

He feels guilty. He doesn’t have the right to think of your face, your eyes, your gentle hands that can inflict such pain, your spirit, what right does he have to grow so fond of those things. He’s never kidnapped anyone, especially not someone he was supposed to have killed months ago. But he did it to you, to the one he missed, in the words of his boss. The guild’s warnings prove to have been true all along. Don’t keep a target as a hostage, don’t get attached—it’s happening. He’s starting to want to get to know you, to get you to smile for him, at least once—it’s damn selfish, he hates himself for it.

When he hears a buzz coming from the drawer of his nightstand. He sits up, confused for a moment until he opens it up, realizing he had put your phone in there. He picks up the phone and presses on the message. He reads the message, eyes narrowing at the endearing term he used. Curious, he unlocks your phones and goes through your text vigorously, searching for what he hoped wasn’t there. As he goes to your past old messages from months ago, he sees I love yous, I miss yous, dinner at 7 my place? Then the texts become less frequent, the tender tone is no more and there’s apologizing on both ends. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out that this guy is your ex, now he’s on the list of people who are worried about you. 

He drops your phone back in the drawer. There’s no way anyone could find you yet, he’s nervous. This is getting too close, and at this point, he shouldn’t, but he wants you closer.

[witchymarvelspacecase]

Spread Your Wings: Part 12: The Angel

Summary: Reader is a HYDRA experiment (like the Maximoffs, but not voluntary) who grows wings (like Angel from X-Men). She escapes, and is now trying to rescue and prevent further kidnappings and experiments.

Word Count: 2507

Warnings: Cursing, mentions of violence… honestly, I’m not even sure anymore

A/N: I swear I’m still alive!!!

Send all the love to the bestest best person ever: @writingwithadinosaur​

Spread Your Wings Masterlist

Funny, you hadn’t realized how annoying that faint buzzing sound in your head had been until it stopped. You couldn’t figure out what the noise was, or when it had begun, but it was familiar, like you’d heard it before.

Odd.

All you could focus on was that sound. You were vaguely aware that there was something else, something important that you needed to be paying attention to, but you couldn’t seem to remember what.

“Weird,” you thought. But what was weirder, was the fact that the memory lapse wasn’t concerning. All you could focus on was that buzzing. Where had it come from? And why, when it stopped, did it leave a ringing in its place?

It felt like your head was full of bells.

…

Y/N’s eyes glazed over. Her facial muscles relaxed, and suddenly she was just… gone. The Angel stood in her place, and it took the team a moment to notice. That moment cost Natasha a gash across her cheek and a sizable chunk of her hair as she shoved Tony out of the way of a dagger that Y/N had been carrying just a second ago.

“Clear the fucking room!” Nat shouted as she evaded the next blow, aimed for her torso. Not that her command was taken as one. Tony was in his element already. His suit was engaged and covered his body seconds after Natasha had pushed him out of the way. Clint, who already had a full arsenal of weapons on his person was also clearly planning to stay in the room. That left Steve and Bruce.

Steve would fight literally anyone, but Bruce, he was best kept out of a fight until there were no other options. As the already injured party, Natasha pulled Bruce from the room herself, leaving Steve, Clint & Tony to handle the Angel. All they had to do was incapacitate her and get her back into the cell. At least that was all she hoped they had to do.

“FRIDAY, lock down the lab until given further instructions,” Natasha called as she pulled Bruce through the doors.

The doors swung closed and a loud series of clicks could be heard immediately after.

“That’s only gonna hold her off for maybe a minute,” Bruce said as he jogged down the hallway. “She can hack that.”

“All it has to do is hold her back long enough for the guys to incapacitate her.”

“Do you really think that’ll work?” Natasha shot him a look. “I read the reports from your fights with Barnes. Incapacitation is not gonna be easy. We need a backup plan for when this goes even further into shit.”

“FRIDAY, locate Sergeant Barnes!”

…

Bucky was halfway to the common room when he was practically knocked over by not one, but two people. Bruce and Natasha came sprinting down the hallway, stopping bare inches from him.

“What the-”

“Angel’s been activated.” Bruce couldn’t have gotten Bucky’s full attention any faster. “Tony, Steve and Clint are blocked in the lab with her.”

“They know to incapaci-” Natasha began.

“They can’t be aiming to incapacitate.” Bucky interrupted, his voice gaining a cold edge that hadn’t been there before. “She’ll notice they aren’t willing to hurt her, she’ll take advantage of that. They can’t be worried about hurting her or they’re toast.” Bucky was halfway to the lab before he realized it.

…

Bucky was right. With the men unwilling to potentially cause damage, the Angel was wiping the floor with them. No one had fought with her enough to have learned her style, or her tells. Only Clint had spent any time in combat with her, but that barely counted considering they’d been protecting each other. Already, Tony’s suit was nearly useless. It provided protection against her knife blows, but the electronics were overtaxed. Y/N was smart, and the Angel was ruthless. The chip in her head would already have made her a threat, Tony had hoped that HERMES would have been a bit of a safeguard, but she had overwhelmed HERMES’ safety protocols in seconds.

“I know this is a bad time, but I really gotta remember to offer this kid a job when she’s done trying to kill us,” Tony half-shouted as the Angel forced him back. That was when the hydraulics in the legs of his suit jammed. He couldn’t release the suit, and he couldn’t move his legs. “Well fuck.”

Steve had no shield, and Clint didn’t have his arrows, but they were both doing what they could. Neither had an issue using whatever they could find as a weapon. Their biggest problem was that the Angel had more knives on her than either of them realized, and they were both bleeding.

Even worse, if ever she was left without an opponent, the Angel was at a computer terminal. Tony shouted at FRIDAY to close all access, but it was likely a moot point.

…

Bucky, Natasha, and Wanda rounded the corner at a sprint just as a shattering sound filled the hall. Steve had been thrown through a wall, and he’d taken what had been a large and probably insanely expensive piece of equipment through the wall with him.

Natasha cursed and moved to help Steve up. As they’d run back, she had taken a moment to arm herself, and though she would have rather had her widow bites, she felt better with a gun in her hands.

Bucky and Wanda advanced, sharing a quick look. Wanda would try to enter Y/N’s mind, if that wasn’t possible, she would restrain Y/N until Bucky could release her.

A horrible metallic screech echoed in everyone’s ears a moment before Tony, in his Ironman suit, flew through the hole that Steve had made just moments before.

“She’s on the workstation. No idea what she’s into, but I’m not optimistic,” Tony groaned, pulling himself from his now useless suit.

Bucky quick-peeked through the hole.

...

It felt like hours had gone by, but you still couldn’t place that buzzing sound and the ringing wasn’t stopping. It wasn’t annoying, but you did wish it would stop. You had the oddest sensation that there was something you were supposed to be doing, but that noise; you just couldn’t focus on anything else.

…

Clint was dancing just out of the Angel’s reach; close enough to provide a distraction, but managing to avoid most of her attacks.

The Angel’s emotionless mask was beginning to show a shadow of rage.

Wanda’s eyes were glowing red as she reached for Y/N’s mind, only to come up against what seemed like a solid wall. A solid, cold, and translucent charcoal barrier blocked Wanda’s access to Y/N’s mind. She could see the other woman’s mind, or at least where it should be, but there was no way she would be able to get through that wall; not quickly, and not without trauma to Y/N’s mind. She moved to her second option; restraint. Her tendrils of power wrapped around the Angel like a vice, and clamped her as tightly as possible.

“This won’t last long,” Wanda warned, strain already evident in her voice.

Bucky moved into the room then. He didn’t hurry, or hide himself, but strode slowly, and purposefully towards the Angel, maintaining eye contact the whole time.

“Mission report,” he demanded, hopeful that the Angel would recognize him as had happened before.

She looked at him, assessing, but instead of answering him, she struck out, or at least she tried to. Wanda’s power held her, but only just.

The second time the Angel attempted to break free, she succeeded, and Wanda dropped like a puppet with its strings cut.

Bucky was on the defensive as the Angel swung sharp, and well aimed knives in his direction. It actually took him a moment to remember that he was trying to deactivate her.

What should have been easy; touching her with his metal arm, was nigh on impossible. It appeared, some part of the Angel was aware of Bucky’s ability to shut her down. Every time Bucky reached toward her, she evaded.

Clint and Steve were helping, and though three men, two of whom were well armed, were against her, the Angel wasn’t slowed. Despite her injury, she was flaring her wings, alternatively hiding and freeing them, and using them to force her opponents back and away from her.

The men were all unwilling to harm her, and like Bucky said, she noticed and took full advantage. The Angel didn’t give a shit if she got hurt, she was focused on killing her opponents.

Exhaling sharply, Bucky ducked a knife before swinging out his own. As much as he didn’t want to hurt Y/N, the Angel would decimate him and his friends if they stayed on the defensive.

Bucky had expected Steve to be the one to adapt to his change of pace first, but to his surprise, Barton was right beside him. They hadn’t fought together much in the past, but the archer seemed to pick up his style almost immediately.

Clint was at his back, and despite his wounds, the two of them were able to corner the Angel. It took three of Clint’s hidden daggers to pin one of Y/N’s soft, dove grey wings to the wall, and even then, Bucky took a deep gash to his thigh before his left arm finally came in contact with the side of the Angel’s neck. Her body froze a moment, before she began to shake violently.

“Pull the blades out, Barton. And grab any of hers you can find,” Buck muttered, keeping his hand, and eyes, on Y/N. Her mind was being split in two. Hoping he could help, Bucky started talking.

“Ya know, I never thought I had a fear of heights, or fallin’. I guess that developed after the train. Never knew the name for it, though, I don’t think I cared much really. Don’t know why you went and learned about phobias. Maybe you’ll tell me one day.” As Bucky talked, Clint moved slowly around to Y/N’s other side, checking her for weapons. He moved steadily, not hiding, but not moving too quickly as to draw her attention. “Didja learn about phobias to keep yourself occupied? I had a hard time with that too. Wanda suggested photography. I thought it was dumb at first, but I have a couple different cameras now. I take pictures of all sorts of weird stuff, or at least Sam tells me it's weird. I just like how it looks, ya know?

“Sometimes I just see somethin’, and I don’t recognize what it is right away, I just know it looks cool, or whatever. Then Sam sees the picture and gets all ‘why’d you take a picture of a sewer grate, Barnes?’”, Bucky mimicked Sam’s voice, and brushed some hair off Y/N’s forehead using his right hand. His left, stayed where it was, on the side of her neck, the fingers along the back, and his thumb rubbing from the front to the side gently. “Birdbrain just doesn’t understand art.” When he paused, unsure of what to talk about, Y/N blinked and her head fell forward, her forehead meeting Bucky’s chest.

“Y/N? Doll, you okay?”

“Oh god,” she groaned, her voice gravelly, “What did I do?”

…

Looking around the lab, you felt your heart in your throat.

The moment Bucky’s vibranium hand touched you, the ringing cut out, leaving utter silence for all of a millisecond, before it seemed like the world went into fast-forward; the volume increased to ear shattering levels. Part of your mind tried to cling to the silence that had been shattered, the other desperately tried to make sense of the movie clips being played in your mind’s eye.

That movie was all you would get. The only parts of your time as the Angel that you would be able to recall would come from this, but no matter how hard you tried, you could only catch brief glimpses. Only remember tiny snapshots. Even watching a recording, you couldn’t recall everything that happened. You couldn’t remember the ringing sound at all, nor the silence; your brain was overloaded.

“Y/N?”

Bucky. You mentally latched onto his voice. Reaching slowly, you rested a hand on his metal forearm, letting the feel of the cool vibrainium ground you further.

You took a deep breath before speaking again. “Put me back in the cell.” Your voice only shook a little.

“Doll, ya don’t-”

“Please.” You wouldn’t let the tears fall, but they were blurring your vision. “Please put me back in the cell. I can’t trust myself.”

It was Clint and Natasha who came forward. Natasha offering you support as she walked with you to the cell, and Clint stepping to Bucky’s side as they watched you leave.

Wanda was sitting up, leaning back against the wall and rubbing her temples, and Bucky moved to crouch by her.

“She feels out of control. The cell offers a sense of security,” Wanda spoke softly. “It’s not that she feels at fault, James. She just doesn’t feel it’s safe for us.”

It wasn’t that Bucky didn’t understand. Hell, that had been his reason for going back on ice in Wakanda, he just really didn’t like the lost, fractured look on your face when you realized what had happened.

“Do we know how to clear her triggers?” Steve asked, pinching the bridge of his nose.

Tony brushed debris off his arms and shoulders and crossed the room to a largely undamaged computer terminal. “Yeah, we know how Barnes’ were cleared, but his were specific to one language. FRIDAY?”

“Still here, boss.”

“Scan Y/N once she’s settled in the cell. We’re gonna go through her brain with a fucking microscope.”

“Yes, boss. HERMES is disengaged, but functional. Should I reboot him?”

“Let’s give her a minute. She just got back in her head, let her adjust before we throw another voice at her.”

Bruce and Tony tossed ideas back and forth for a while after that. Bucky only understood every third word, but he wasn’t ready to leave just yet.

“Something in my arm deactivated her, right?” Bucky asked into a pause in conversation.

“Yes, it looks that way,” Bruce replied.

“Can you scan it and see if there’s some sort of connection between the two?”

“Actually,” Tony said, “it shouldn’t even work anymore.” When everyone looked confused and more than a little concerned, he continued, “Practically nothing about the arm you have now is even related to the one HYDRA made.” Tony began pacing and gesturing as he talked. “Whatever it was that deactivated the Angel, shouldn’t be there anymore.”

“Unless it’s the vibranium itself,” Clint said quietly. You could have heard a pin drop.

“FRIDAY, contact Wakanda, and get their full specs on Barnes’ arm.”

“In all my spare time?” the AI sassed.

Tony sighed loudly before adding, “please.”

“Do you want King T’Challa or Princess Shuri’s line?”

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

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[hoodoo12]

Hey if you don’t feel comfortable doing this fic I totally get it, but I am going through a really bad bout of depression right now and I am struggling. Over the last month at one point I went a week and a half without showering before my mom literally locked me in the bathroom until it took a shower. It’s been really bad and I could definitely use some support from my favorite demon. If you could maybe write a fic about Beetlejuice helping reader deal with her shit, it would mean a lot to me

Sweetest, I’m happy to write this for you. I am sorry to hear about your struggles and wish you nothing but light and love. SFW. musical!Beetlejuice/reader; (TW) depression but support too.

melancholia

There was a knock at your door.

You ignored it. 

Whoever was out there ignored your ignoring, and in the next moment you felt Beetlejuice’s presence at the side of your bed. You didn’t turn over to face him.

“Babes, you’ve been in here for like, nine days.”

You knew that. You didn’t have the energy to respond.

You couldn’t hear him move anywhere in the room. Of course, you didn’t hear the door open or close either; one thing that you had to get used to was the fact he wasn’t bound by conventional things like walls or doors or personal space. He was at your back, and then suddenly, he was in front of you. 

He crouched down and looked you in the face. You half met his gaze, and half let your eyes grow vacant. You saw him frown.

“Babes, I’ve missed you.”

You wanted to miss him too, but the weight holding you down crushed most emotion out too. You felt flattened and dull.

Beetlejuice’s hand brushed against your forehead and into your hair. He didn’t push too hard, fortunately; you knew he felt the solid mass of uncombed, unwashed hair under his fingers. You hated it, but you couldn’t even fathom doing anything like simply combing it. It was beyond you.

His hand pulled away. You thought he’d leave you now. It was what you expected. It was what you deserved. 

But he only examined you again. Through your half-lidded eyes you saw that there was an odd mixture of colors deep in his hair: purples and blues, with a rare streak of red. The overall color of it was dark. It was a combination you’d never seen before. You wished you’d cataloged what each color meant, like you’d planned to do previously. It was too late for that now, and you thought it would be rude to ask him. 

“You haven’t been up for a while, have you baby?” Beetlejuice asked very quietly. 

You managed to shake your head. Your neck was sore, and you hated that just responding with an answer he obviously already knew made tears well up in your eyes. 

You watched him worry his lower lip with sharp teeth. He paused like he was going to say something else, but didn’t. 

In the next second, with no warning, he was gone. 

If asked, you would have said you didn’t want company. You hadn’t changed your clothes in days. Your joints ached. You were passed being hungry. You knew you were poor company. But now that he was gone, it felt even worse to be alone. The tears that flooded your eyes fell, and you wept silently into your pillow. 

You don’t know how long you cried. Time stretched like taffy. You lay with your eyes open, staring at nothing, with your cheek on a damp spot on your pillow. 

You didn’t flinch when a hand took your shoulder. 

Gently, you were pulled to your back.

“Come on, baby,” Beetlejuice said.

You wanted to ask what he meant. You were in no shape to go anywhere. But instead of waiting for an answer, he simply slipped an arm under your shoulders and the other under your knees, and picked you up. 

You hadn’t really moved much lately, and it hurt. You’d have fought against him, but you were too drained. 

It was easy to forget that Beetlejuice was stronger than he looked. He carried you easily out of the bedroom, bridal style, and even made sure not to hit your head on the doorframe. That had happened previously, in sillier times, when you and he were fooling around. It almost made you smile to remember times like that. 

He didn’t care that your clothes were filthy and you were just overall grungy. You’d never cared that he was more on the grimy side than not; in fact, at least now the two of you kind of matched.

So you never expected him to take you directly to the bathroom.

Inside the small tiled room, the shower was already running. There was steam on the mirror, which made you glad because then you couldn’t see yourself. Carefully, Beetlejuice set you down. Your knees gave out, however, and he held on to you to keep you upright. 

“Let’s take a shower, baby.”

In the state you were in, you didn’t know you were capable of surprise. Beetlejuice had never, ever suggested bathing. You’d sort of wondered if he had a phobia of water, or if he melted like the Wicked Witch of the West, or if being dirty was some kind of demon status symbol, or something. 

“What?” you managed to croak. 

He gestured towards the shower. “You. Me. Shower.”

You had to be hallucinating. But during your lack of response, Beetlejuice dropped his jacket and loosened his tie. He shrugged out of his suspenders, letting them hang down from his waist, and went to work on the chipped buttons of his shirt. Your fingers ached, so there was no way you could even begin to undress, even though you were a bit intrigued.

When Beetlejuice realized you were still just standing, he stopped. 

“Well this is stupid,” he announced. 

You couldn’t agree more. Now you could get back into bed.

With barely a nod, both you and he were nude in a blink. That did finally make you flinch a little, and Beetlejuice gathered you against him. Then, before you could move or say anything or think, you were both under the showerhead. 

The water was the perfect temperature, not too hot and not too cold. Somehow Beetlejuice made it just right, despite his self-admitted lack of human body temperature. He sputtered a bit under the spray, gasping for air as if he hadn’t realized he could breathe while getting splashed in the face. He looked more surprised than you felt, even though it had been his idea. 

He didn’t fuss much more than that, however. Instead, he focused on you.

He made sure you were appropriately wet. He found shampoo and put too much of it in your hair, then massaged it and your scalp with his slightly ragged fingernails. They pulled a bit, but felt okay in a good way. He repeated the process until the water ran clear. Then he applied conditioner to your hair, and let it sit while he lathered up a washcloth.

Beetlejuice paid the same attention to the rest of you as he did your dirty hair. He washed every inch of your skin from head to feet, lifting your arms to get underneath them and helping steady you when he bumped your knee so you’d stand on one foot to get between your toes.

He never made it uncomfortable or suggested anything saucy; he just cleaned you.

By the time he was done, the conditioner was gone from your hair, leaving it feeling slick and soft.

The amount of soap he used cleaned his hands and forearms, by default. When you pointed it out to him, he seemed surprised again, then gave you a crooked grin and asked if he should continue, or if you wanted to help?

So you took the washcloth, wrung out a majority of the remaining suds, and copied what he’d done to you. By the time you were done, his pale skin was almost luminescent. Some spots where you had to scrub a little harder to get some particularly deep crud off of him were reddish. His cheeks were red too, but that was more a blush than anything else. 

You washed his hair too. Instead of being a solid color as most hair was when wet, it still retained locks of color. The blues were gone; in there place were streaks of various pinks and the undertone of green that was close to normal. Under your fingers you still found the occasional red. You would have to ask him about that later.

Once all the suds on both of you were washed away, Beetlejuice pressed his forehead to yours. He reached around you to turn the water off, and the bathroom suddenly sounded very quiet without the shower running. 

With his hair plastered flat on his head, Beetlejuice looked a little deflated, a little like the stereotypical drowned rat. You giggled but checked yourself before announcing that out loud; he would take it literally and you had no desire to actually receive a waterlogged rodent as a well-meaning but kind of gross gift. 

He beamed at your little laugh. Just as you’d been spirited into the shower, you were spirited out of it too, and found yourself swaddled in a thick towel and robe. They didn’t look familiar. You didn’t care. Quickly but gently your hair was combed. The conditioner helped loosen the knots, and Beetlejuice was overly careful about not pulling it.

Out of nowhere you found a toothbrush with a dab of paste on it in your hand. Automatically you went through the motions of brushing your teeth. 

While you brushed your teeth, Beetlejuice shook himself like a dog, re-spraying you with droplets of water and making you laugh in protest before drying himself off too. His hair stuck out a little more wildly than normal, drooping at the ends from the water still in it. Quickly he wiped himself dry, wrapped another towel around his waist, and lead you back to your bedroom. 

It’d been straightened. Not perfectly; mostly things on the floor had been pushed closer to the walls so there was space to walk. Enough tidiness to be noticeable. The soiled sheets on your bed had been removed and replaced with fresher ones. The bed wasn’t made, though, all the new sheets and blankets were still in a messy pile at the foot of the bed.

“Clones. They do their best, but without direct supervision . . .” Beetlejuice explained a little sheepishly, his voice trailing off before completing the sentence. 

You managed a smile. 

You were still tired. The warm water had eased some of the aches in your body, but they weren’t gone completely. As he gently disrobed you and helped you back into the bed, drawing the top sheet and blanket to cover you up, Beetlejuice said, 

“Get some real rest, baby. When you wake up we’ll get some food in you, okay?”

For a second you had a flash of panic. 

“Don’t leave me!” you begged.

Immediately, towel still around him and dripping hair and all, Beetlejuice clambered onto the mattress and under the blankets beside you. He pulled you against him, nothing inappropriate, nothing sexual, just his damp chest against your skin, holding you tightly. He didn’t whisper nonsense words to you. He didn’t say anything. His actions this entire time spoke volumes, however. 

You were able to follow his instructions, though, and the last thing you saw before you fell into a real sleep was his hair was once again a soft green. He was content, and you settled closer to him with a little more peace of mind as well. 

fin

[theatresweetheart]

High Strung Hearts

Fandom(s): Sanders Sides, G/t

Summary: Patton can’t help a sad Logan, so he recruits Virgil instead.

Warnings: Fear, self deprecation, feelings of insignificance, feelings of uselessness. 

Pairings: Platonic Analogical, Platonic LAMP

Word Count: 4879 words.

A/n: So, this was a fun write! It was also kind of cathartic as well, so, yeah. Here! Enjoy!

Taglist: @isle-of-gold

                                     ~—~—~—~—~—~

“Do you really have something negative to say about every Disney movie?” The annoyed tone was playful, but it did hold a small ounce of truth in it, even as the brown eyes moved and focused downwards on the smaller form sitting on the back of the couch. “You’ve hardly seen a handful of them and you manage to always find something in them worth mentioning.”

Virgil rolled his eyes, pulling his legs up and crossing them comfortably, before leaning back on his hands. “Well yeah,” he motioned to the screen as Beauty and the Beast rolled in front of them. “Belle fell in love with her captor. That’s Stockholm syndrome. That’s not romantic.”

“But that’s not the point of the story, you Emo Nightmare,” Roman sounded exasperated. Their debate had been going on for quite awhile now. They were almost completely through the entirety of the movie itself. “The point of the story is that she falls for his personality, not his looks.”

“After being captured? Come on,” the borrower snarked back. There was very little fear when he was interacting with Roman, though, there were moments where his instincts would kick in. “He locked her in a cell, for one. And he wasn’t exactly kind any time after that.”

It was almost astonishingly easy to compare Belle’s situation to one that he had been in weeks prior. Being captured and certainly been talked down to, ignored and pushed around. Sure, the outcomes of both of their stories were completely different, as Virgil was fairly sure there was no Stockholm syndrome involved in his life, but he guessed he had somehow befriended the human that had caught him in the first place.

Though, that still didn’t really prove anything.

The sound of Mrs. Potts’ voice singing as Belle and the Beast danced across the screen, in colours of yellow and blue and white, drew his attention back to the screen.

Yes, Virgil always had something negative to say, but he did enjoy watching the movies anyways. They were entertaining and, as he had been told, they were classics. The Black Cauldron was admittedly his favourite, but they didn’t watch it too often as it wasn’t exactly a light and fluffy tale.

The couch shifted and his attention shifted back to the human as said male adjusted himself to sit a bit more comfortably. “Do you … actually like watching these movies?”

The question was actually sort of surprising. “Uh, yeah?” It almost came out more of a question. “They’re good movies. Just, the plot-holes and problems can be … kind of distracting.”

With the short silence that followed, his anxiety skyrocketed.

His throat tightened. Had he said something wrong? Had he screwed this up? Great. Just great. Out of the few people that he did know well enough, he had already managed to screw up this chance. The last thing he had ever expected was to befriend a human being, even with his fear and the accelerated heart rate almost every time he came out, but—

“I can understand that,” Roman’s voice broke his negative train of thought, and he startled, eyes shooting up to look at him. Said human’s eyes were already turning to look at him. “I mean, if you say the plot aloud, it doesn’t exactly sound great. A fair maiden being captured by a hairy beast, who is certainly less than kind to her, and then she falls for him? I can see your reasoning.” He offered Virgil a small grin, noticing how nervous he was, and Roman could only guess that his mind had been less than helpful. “You don’t have to worry. As much as I adore the works of Disney, there are problems.”

Without realizing that his hands had been shaking, he moved from leaning back on them and he tucked them into his pockets. “I, uh, yeah,” he laughed nervously for a moment, feeling the want to hide away in his hoodie. “Yeah.”

Before the conversation could be prolonged, or even start up again, the sound of footsteps entering the living room caught them both by surprise.

“Virgil?” Patton’s voice sounded worried and that was somewhat alarming. What could possibly make him feel so upset? “I know you and Roman are watching a movie, but I— are you busy?”

Virgil looked up to Roman, who in turn just nodded his head towards Patton, a gentle, understanding look. “Don’t worry, Thumbelina, we can finish the movie later.”

The borrower was thankful for that, at least. So, with that decided, he then turned his entire body and let his legs dangle over the back of the couch.

“Sure, Pat, what’s going on?”

The way Patton was fidgeting with his hands, spoke to a nervous human. There was something that had really upset him, and he couldn’t even think of what it could possibly be. What had gone wrong?

“It’s Logan,” he broke the silence and suddenly Virgil felt the blood leave his face.

Those were the only two words needed to make Virgil’s anxiety intensify.

What had happened to him? Was he sick? Hurt? Dying?

Oh God, he knew he shouldn’t have taken the day to watch a couple movies with Roman. He knew he should have made sure Logan was doing okay.

When he had knocked on his friend’s door, there had been no answer and Virgil had just assumed he was either out or still sleeping. He should have known better than to just believe that the silence he had gotten meant that he was fine.

He should have known better.

The look of terror and regret must have been obvious, because he watched as Patton scrambled to find something else to say. “He’s fine, I promise! But, um, I don’t think he’s feeling okay. He won’t talk to me about it and I’ve been trying to. I think it’s just making him more distant. Maybe … maybe if you tried talking to him?”

Virgil wasn’t exactly the best when it came to dealing with others emotions. He could hardly deal with his own, as he kept it inside of himself until it all came out in one big breakdown. Helping Logan, who even refused to acknowledge his feelings, would be difficult.

He then nodded his head. “Okay,” he spoke up, pulling his hands from his pockets and pushing himself into a stand. “I’ll see what I can do. Where is he?”

Patton seemed to light up a little bit at the fact that Virgil was willing to help. Not that he really doubted him. “He’s been reading on my laptop in my room almost all day,” he stepped over to the back of the couch and offered his hands out.

Virgil was positive he would never be able to really be used to Roman or Patton offering to carry him. It was odd and the phobia of human hands wasn’t an easy one to shake. Not that he thought the humans meant him any harm, but there was always that constant, lingering ‘what if something goes wrong’ or ‘what if they change their mind and they decide to use this trust against you.’

Usually, he would be more than content to turn down the offer and make his way on his own, but if Logan wasn’t feeling right, well, he didn’t really have the time to waste.

So, he tried to relax his pounding heart and pushed off the edge of the couch and landed on the offered palms. He crouched down on his knees and leaned down to keep his balance.

However, that balance only lasted a moment before he toppled over by the quick movements from the human. There was a quiet apology murmured down to him, but there was much more urgency in his actions.

Pushing up onto his hands, he crossed his legs. There were so many things that he was worried could be going wrong. Was Logan upset and just not sure how to express it? Virgil would have been almost positive that Patton would get more of a reaction from him. Though, trying to connect to someone who always wore his emotions on his sleeves, to someone that pretends he doesn’t have them, would make it difficult for the two of them to relate.

Virgil was kind of in between when it came to the both of those things. He could wear his emotions out completely in the open, or he could tuck them away and keep them hidden from the light of day. He was probably the better option, honestly.

He also knew Logan a lot better than Patton did, so that would probably help as well.

When the door to the bedroom creaked open, there was no visual response from Logan, save the fact that his shoulders might have tensed, only to release again when hearing no further noise.

The fact that speaking also wasn’t really an option either was something that said silence may be the better option until Patton left the room. If he had been trying and failing to get something from the stubborn male, then perhaps Virgil, when he was alone with him, would be able to get something different.

The human crossed the distance between the door and the bed, to where the laptop was set up on the waves of covers.

The hands were lowered and Virgil brought himself into a stand, before hopping off and tucking his hands into his pockets, shrugging a bit farther into his jacket before turning his attention upwards. The way Logan was on the laptop itself, well, it was certainly a much sturdier surface than the bed itself was.

“Thanks for the ride, Pat,” he called up, offering a small grin, before getting one in return. Though, after that, no other words were shared before Patton left the room and shut the door behind him.

Virgil then turned his attention to his accomplice, who was obviously pretending not to notice that he was currently there as well. His eyes were glued to the screen, but he could tell that Logan’s heart wasn’t in whatever he was currently reading. His mind was elsewhere.

Standing in silence, however, wasn’t going to get either of them anywhere, and Virgil knew what he needed to do, but doing that was going to be the problem.

So, he managed to wobble over to the edge of the laptop, sitting on the opposite side of the touch-pad from where Logan was and crossed his legs. His eyes moved to the screen as the page scrolled for a moment, before stopping once more.

From what Virgil could tell, the essay Logan was currently reading was something that had to do with physics. He wasn’t sure why, or what was so interesting about it, but then again, that wasn’t his thing. With how much of a nerd Logan could be, this made sense.

“So,” Virgil finally broke his vow of silence and he watched as Logan tensed.

“If Patton set you up to try and get something from me, you are going to be sorely disappointed.”

The remark was a bit cold, but it was his self-defense mechanism. Virgil knew that when Logan got hurt or stressed or worried, he got indifferent, short and pushed people away. It was what Virgil had done countless times, as well.

It was to keep himself from getting hurt further.

He adjusted his position. “He said you weren’t feeling quite like yourself.”

“I feel fine.”

Okay, so that’s how this was going to be. He should have expected it, honestly. He disliked it when someone else came asking about he felt, so he really should have known that Logan would be the exact same way, if not worse.

“I never said you weren’t,” Virgil countered back, watching as Logan refused to even look in his direction, “but I’m here because Patton got worried about you. He got even more so when you wouldn’t talk to him.”

The other borrower rolled his eyes and finally turned just enough to see him out of the corner of his eye. “You’re free to go back to watching movies with Roman, I can assure you that everything is fine.”

Virgil took a moment to realize that he probably wasn’t going about this the right way. There had to be a different way to address feelings without outright saying ‘I want to talk to you about the feelings you say you don’t have.’

But what was the right thing to say?

Did he try and relate to him on a more personal level? Or would that just make Logan colder? Patton had said that he tried to be understanding and was instead pushed away, but maybe that was because he was a human.

“Logan, I get it,” he started off, trying to grab his attention. “I get that maybe you’re feeling overwhelmed or upset. I’m … not sure about what, but I’ve felt that way lots of times.” He leaned forwards, trying to gauge the reaction he was getting from him. He was greeted with an emotionless expression, which he wasn’t surprised. “I’ve felt hurt before, too. The want to push others away and keep this— unhappiness from being overwhelming on someone else.”

“Virgil, I have already told you. I feel fine.”

Well, it was a bit of progress.

“Look, I’m no good at this- this sappy stuff, but I’m trying to help you. I know for a fact that keeping things inside is only going to do more harm than good. You should know that too.”

Logan sighed, put his posture was tense. Either Virgil was about to engage in an argument, or Logan was preparing to leave this whole thing behind and avoid it by literally leaving. “I don’t want to talk about this—”

“I know you don’t,” he cut the other off, moving just close enough to be an inch or two away from the touch-pad, the thing itself still separating him and his roommate. “I never want to be faced with my problems either. Especially not by someone else. Yet, here we are.”

He watched as Logan stood up, and Virgil was quick to follow.

“No,” he warned. This time his voice was stern. “You don’t get to pretend that this didn’t happen. You don’t get to pretend that you don’t feel. We all feel, so stop ignoring it for once.”

“And who are you to bring this up?” There was the snap back, it was sharp and defensive.

Virgil held his ground, even as sharp brown eyes turned back around on him, finally meeting his gaze for once. He was unmoved. “Because I’ve been in the same position you’re in right now.” That probably didn’t convince him, but it was honest. “It sucks, Logan. It does.”

He could tell that he was going to get a fight. There was that look building behind the other man’s eyes and he could see a defense coming from a mile away.

Yet, the silence was held between them.

It was sharp and angry, biting and cold, but there was also another undertone to it. Something that was almost resigned. Not for the fact that they were about to give up the battle between them, but it seemed as if something had snapped into place behind those black-rimmed glasses.

“You’re not going to give up on this are you?”

“Nope,” Virgil replied, shuffling on his feet, before offering a small grin. “You can walk away and try and leave the conversation, but we live together. You’re not getting away from this. Not this time.”

Logan just looked weary. Tired. “What if I told you that I really do feel fine?”

“I wouldn’t believe you.”

He opened his mouth to say something more, and instead, he stopped himself. He dropped his eyes and Virgil stepped around the touch-pad to get a bit closer to him.

“I’m not going to judge you, you know,” the shorter male said quietly, watching as Logan ducked under his hand and went to sit on the very edge of the laptop instead, facing the head of the bed. He let out a small breath and went to sit beside him. “We’re in this together.”

Logan hesitated. “I know.”

The quiet held for a moment. “If you don’t want to tell me, I won’t be offended, Hell, I know that it sometimes feels better to keep it inside. But, I’m here to listen if you do want to.”

“It is not that I don’t trust you, Virgil, I know I can.” That made the young man feel a burst of warmth in his chest, but only for a moment and he watched as Logan almost deflated. “I just—” There was that frustrated look again, looking like he wanted to pull back and ignore the problem. But there was also a resilience that said he wasn’t going to allow himself to do so. “I’m not the one that’s supposed to feel. I feel as though I may be broken.”

The admittance made Virgil freeze. A feeling of guilt filled his chest. Was it because Logan was around someone like him all the time, that his tendencies were starting to rub off? No. It couldn’t be like that. Could it?

“Am— am I broken?”

Then, those sad brown eyes were focused on him and he didn’t know what to do with the sudden attention. He swallowed thickly before shaking his head.

“No,” he finally said, clasping his hands in his lap and avoiding his attention completely from Logan’s. “No, you’re not broken. These emotions …” He paused, trying to find the right words. Virgil wasn’t like Patton. He couldn’t just explain or try to explain why he was feeling this way. “They’re–”

“I just … I don’t understand them.” There was more emotion building in Logan’s voice, and it sounded like he was almost starting to get choked up by the fact that he didn’t understand. “I have nothing to be upset about and the fact that I feel this way is ridiculous and unreasonable.”

“You feel sad for no reason?”

“I suppose that is one way of putting it,” he agreed, moving his gaze to land on the pillow so far away from them, yet so close. “A little less gently than I would believe, but yes.”

“That’s not unreasonable,” Virgil told him with a shrug. “It’s normal. You’re not broken because you don’t understand how you feel.” He rubbed a hand up his arm, and he sighed. “A lot of times, I don’t know why I feel bad, I just feel bad and that’s not wrong. You know?”

The quiet held. Then, there was a small intake of breath and when Virgil looked to his right, he noticed that Logan had hid his face in the crooks of his arms, his shoulders trembling.

Now he was in a dilemma. Was he supposed to reach over and comfort him?

For one, Virgil was kind of in shock. He had never seen Logan so emotionally vulnerable and it was disheartening. Another part of him knew that this was good for him, getting these emotions out. Crying usually helped someone feel better, but he didn’t know whether physical touch would be the best way to comfort him like this. He knew that Logan wasn’t a very physically affectionate person either. Not exactly affectionate, period.

So, he went with his gut and moved a bit closer to him, before placing an arm around his shoulder. He rested his head on Logan’s shoulder before just sitting in silence.

It was heartbreaking, in all honesty. He sounded so broken. There was just so much hurt that seemed to be locked away, and it had only been a matter of time before this would have happened. Though, Virgil assumed that having Logan upset now was better than if he were by himself. He also knew that seeing him like this would be something kept completely confidential.

“What am I even doing?” Logan mumbled, his voice was muffled. “This is pathetic. I shouldn’t be feeling like this— this isn’t. I don’t …”

“Hey,” Virgil kept his arm where it was, making sure to offer as much comfort as he could. “Don’t blame yourself for feeling like this. It’s not … This is okay. You’re allowed to feel overwhelmed.”

“But if I can’t keep— I’m …”

“You’re alright,” he assured the logical male. “You’re okay. I know, emotions aren’t your thing, you’ve told me many a’time. Emotions aren’t really my thing either, but from what I do know, it’s okay to feel a bit down. It doesn’t really take away from who you are as a person. I’m not going to feel any different about you and I can promise you that Patton and Roman won’t either.”

Virgil, for a hair-raising second, wasn’t sure if he had said the right thing or not. He had actually thought he had messed it up pretty badly but then he felt Logan’s hands in tighten in the back of his jacket. If anything, it seemed that his shivering had gotten a bit harder.

Still, he wasn’t really sure what he could do to calm Logan down. Whenever he went through his panic attacks, it was always the other way around. So to be in reversed positions, well, it was strange.

In the opposite situation, Logan would always recite something to him. Whether it was poetry, or a part from a book he had memorized, or how he had even assured him that he was going through would pass in time and that it was not a permanent state of mind.

The man himself was always so grounded in reality, not letting anything sway him when he knew how to debunk it. However, as Virgil held that same man in his arms, watching as he sobbed into his shoulder, well, it gave him a different perspective on this whole situation. It also allowed him to realize that Logan—even though he always denied having feelings in the first place—would eventually be prone to a breakdown and would need a comforting touch, just like any other person. That he would need someone to be understanding and patient and ride this out with him.

“You know, you always talk of astronomy,” Virgil told him, a hesitant moment before he allowed himself to run his fingers soothingly through Logan’s brown hair. “Talking about constellations and the incredible vastness of the universe.”

Usually talking about such things would make Virgil more anxious. Just the thought that space was so big was terrifying and compared to their size anyhow, it made him feel insignificant. However, he had to push his own feelings to the side for a little bit and he needed to talk about what interested Logan. Would could possibly calm him down in the long run.

“Though, for someone that constantly likes to talk about the stars and the night sky, you don’t really spend a lot of time watching the stars themselves. It’s almost as if you’d rather read about them.”

He was answered with a quivering silence and it sent a sharp pang through him. It was hard seeing Logan like this, so he decided to do something more than just talk at him. He needed Logan to talk to him.

Virgil shifted a little bit, wincing as Logan’s glasses dug into his shoulder, but said nothing about it. “Tell me about Orion’s Belt.”

“W-what?”

Finally, he was getting a reaction.

“Tell me about Orion’s Belt.”

Logan lifted his head, brows furrowed, but his eyes were red and hurt, but confused. “I fail to understand what meaning this holds to the situation at hand.” His voice was unsteady and, if anything, he sounded as if he was still ready to fall into another breakdown.

There was silence for a moment, but Virgil smiled softly. “C’mon, Logan, humour me.”

The other borrower sniffled a moment before adjusting his glasses. He still seemed confused by the notion, as it hadn’t exactly clicked behind those brown eyes just yet, but he complied. “Orion’s Belt, also commonly known as the Three Kings or Three Sisters, is an asterism in the constellations. The three stars that make up the belt are Alnitak, Alnilam and Mintaka.”

In all honesty, no matter how many times he listened to Logan ramble about the stars and space, Virgil would never really understand what he was talking about, but that wasn’t what mattered.

What did matter was the way that Logan would light up when he talked about things that he enjoyed. The way that he would get so into it and go off onto tangents about something he was passionate about. That was what mattered the most. It was easy to get him to go off onto topics that may be considered boring by anyone else who was willing to listen to him talk—that or he would talk anyways, whether someone was listening or not—long enough to see how excited he could get over the littlest things.

Though, it seemed that Logan wasn’t done there, and the more he spoke, the steadier he seemed to get. “The stars are more or less evenly spaced in a straight line, and so can be visualized as the belt of the hunter's clothing. They are best visible in the early night sky during the Northern Winter and Southern Summer, in particular the month of January at around 9:00 pm.“

There was quiet again.

Logan’s brows furrowed finally as he pulled away from Virgil’s hold and instead turned his attention towards the head of the bed. “I don’t understand why you had me talk about—,” It took a moment, before it clicked, “—Oh. It was a calming tactic.”

“See? Your advice isn’t lost on me,” Virgil told him. “Even in the middle of a panic attack, I hear you. I thought it would be helpful in this situation.”

He watched as Logan turned to face him, brown eyes slightly startled, but not enough to speak to a worried Logan. In fact, as the other adjusted his glasses, he seemed to clear his throat nervously before obviously directing his gaze elsewhere. Logan was never known for his subtlety. “Well, uh, thank you.”

“You’ve done plenty for me, I just got to return the favour.” Neither of them said anything for a moment. The silence was broken by a soft sigh. “Are you feeling better?”

“Yes.” The answer was short, but the look that Virgil received when Logan turned to face him said so much more. Things that he was almost positive Logan wouldn’t be able to say to him anyways. As people said, actions could speak louder than words and this was driving that point home. “Thank you, truly.”

The latter shrugged his shoulders, but the smile remained soft and understanding. “Anything for my favourite nerd.” That roused a small laugh from the bespectacled male. “Why don’t you come and join me for a couple more movies, huh? I promise it won’t be as bad as you think it’s going to be.”

“I’d really rather not,” Logan tilted his head back towards the screen behind him, causing Virgil to look in turn before returning his attention to the other borrower. “I haven’t quite finished this essay yet and it is rather riveting.”

What a nerd. Would rather read about physics that take an hour or two to himself.

“I won’t force you to do anything you don’t wanna do,” Virgil then planted his hands on his thighs and pushed himself into a stand, reaching his arms above his head and stretching. “I think I’ll head back then, finish off a couple more movies.” He turned to look at the door. “You’re welcome to join at any time, you know.”

“I am aware.”

“Good,” he nodded his head, “then I’ll leave you to finish your essay.”

The moment of silence passed between them and Virgil slid off of the laptop itself and began to wobble across the uneven bedspread. He wasn’t exactly used to walking on such soft surfaces as this entire thing was still relatively new. Their entire friendship with the two humans of the household, he meant.

As Logan looked over his shoulder and let his gaze wander up the wall of text, he frowned.

There was no actual urge to finish reading, perhaps he had only said such a thing so that he would be able to be on his own again. Though, he knew that maybe it wasn’t the healthiest idea, nor did he actually have the foggiest idea of what he actually wanted to do, but he figured that spending a couple hours away from reading wouldn’t do too much harm.

So, he pushed himself into a stand instead and moved across the keyboard, taking extra care not to step on any of the keys that may send the screen into an unbalance, he stepped on the power button and watched as the screen went dark.

Walking on the edge of the computer, as there was no way he was going to be able to shut it, Logan hopped off onto the comforter and followed in his accomplice’s footsteps.

“Virgil wait,” he called, watching as the latter paused just as he reached the edge of the bed. “On second thought, I think I’ll join you.”

[melloeyed]

Ok...

Guys, I'm too lazy to finish the whole Aunt Mother horror story, so I'll just give you all a summary.

(Octavius Niccals, Gomorrah Niccals and Gallagher Niccals belong to @yoel-o-fellow)

I'm sorry.

Warning:Gore,phobia,violence,sexual moments,and nudity.

Octavius and Gomorrah need a "break" from Sebastian and Marvin, so they decided to give them to someone for a week. Eventually, Octavius bumps into Aunt Mother and ask her kindly to babysit Sebastian and Marvin for a week. Aunt Mother hesitates, but agrees to take care of them.

Meanwhile, lots of bad things are happening to Sebastian, but suddenly he gets a weird feeling that something might happen, then he gets really paranoid when he sees a sunflower on the front yard of his home.

Three weeks later, Sebastian and Marvin wake up early to go to Aunt Mother's house. She lives very far away ( in the middle of nowhere). Marvin was quite excited and curious, but Sebastian was worried and paranoid. He didn't know why.

A few hours later, the family arrived at Aunt Mother's home. Sebastian gets even more paranoid when he sees that her house is surrounded by a field of sunflowers.

When Gomorrah and Octavius leave (happily), Sebastian and Marvin are left with Aunt Mother. She welcomed them with open arms, making Marvin already trust her. Sebastian, however, is still suspicious of her.

Aunt Mother was curious of why Sebastian was uncomfortable near her. One night, Aunt Mother and Sebastian had a conversation in the bedroom. Sebastian was surprisingly honest why he didn't seem to trust her.

It hurt Aunt Mother's feelings, making Sebastian feel bad. Then Aunt Mother asks how was Sebastian and his family doing. Sebastian hesitated to tell her, but he told her anyway out of nowhere. Then he immediately start crying. Very hard.

Aunt Mother soothes him and tells him that everything is going to be alright and that she knows how it feels to be abused by your family. Sebastian suddenly feels better and Aunt Mother tells him that if he wants a better life he has to fight for it.

After that, Sebastian and Marvin had the best week ever. Aunt Mother made delicious meals, gave them soothing baths, and made them sleep onto the softest beds. Aunt Mother started to love the boys and they started to love her too.

Even Sebastian started to change. His grades got higher, he stared behaving at school, and he even started studying with MM and Ripley (which kinda scared them).

When, Gomorrah and Octavius returned, Marvin was bummed that they had to go, but Sebastian didn't want to leave. Aunt Mother waved goodbye to them and in the car, Sebastian kept looking back at her.

Bad things started happening to Sebastian again and he started to miss Aunt Mother. Marvin started to miss her too. Gomorrah overheard Sebastian and Marvin talk about how sweet and great Aunt Mother was, completely annoying Gomorrah. But what really made her mad, is when Marvin said that he wished that Aunt Mother was his real mom instead of Gomorrah and Sebastian did too.

Gomorrah felt replaced and jealous (green with envy. Ba-dum tush!) that an odd woman would be a way better mother than Gomorrah. Eventually, Gommorah had an argument with Sebastian and he completely roasted her, so Gomorrah drove to her house to give Aunt Mother a piece of her mind.

When she arrived, Gomorrah scolded Aunt Mother in the most saltiest and rudest way, leaving Aunt Mother very confused and offended. Aunt Mother tries to ask and reason with her but Gomorrah just scolded her and told her, "Go to hell!" and leaves.

When Gomorrah returned home, she sees that Sebastian and Marvin had a beating. Sebastian was completely sick and tired of bad things happening to him. So later that night, Sebastian and Marvin ran away to Aunt Mother's house. I almost took forever and they had to walk. They arrived at dawn and it was raining.

Aunt Mother ran outside with an umbrella. Sebastian runs towards her with tears in his eyes, along with Marvin. They both hug her. Sebastian tells Aunt Mother everything and that he hates his life. She calms him down at offers them to stay with her.

When Octavius find out he didn't seem to care, but he suddenly felt angry. He searched everywhere for the boys, then he made his way to Aunt Mother's.

Aunt Mother gave Sebastian and Marvin lots of love. She even asked them if they wanted to stay for the rest of their lives. Sebastian and Marvin said yes.

Then one day, Aunt Mother told the boys to hide upstairs. Sebastian and Marvin were confused why, but they did it anyway.

Octavius arrived at Aunt Mother's home, furiously. Aunt Mother started to play dumb and asked him what was wrong. Octavius just slapped her and demanded Aunt Mother to give his sons back, but she stood her ground.

Aunt Mother threatened him that if he didn't leave, she would call the police for child abuse. Octavius grabbed her neck and rammed her against the wall before she could do anything. Octavius suddenly felt bloodthirsty. He didn't know why, but then he snapped.

When Aunt Mother escaped his grasp, she tried to reach for the phone, but it was too late. Octavius impaled her with a fireplace poker. Sebastian heard Aunt Mother's choking and ran downstairs to help her.

But by the time he came, he watched in horror as Octavius strangled Aunt Mother on the floor in a large puddle of her blood.

Aunt Mother died.

(Its a sunflower covered in blood.)

When Octavius realized what he did, he began to panic and tried to hide her body. He then buried her body in her sunflower field and forced Sebastian and Marvin in the car.

After the worst beating of their lives, Sebastian grows livid and stabs Octavius in the back with a pen, making him angrier. They got into a bloody fight. Sebastian went berserk and literally almost bit Octavius' ear off.

Sebastian cried for days after Aunt Mother's death, while Marvin didn't sleep for days. But, suddenly Sebastian grew afraid and paranoid that something terrible would happen.

A week later Octavius is still shooken that he killed Aunt Mother. He didn't feel like eating or sleeping. Gomorrah tells him that sunflowers started to grow in the backyard, making him even more paranoid. Octavius tried to wash the dry blood that was on his hands, but it never came off.

That's where it all began. Octavius began to see Aunt Mother hallucinations, driving him to the edge everyday. One night, Octavius couldn't stand it anymore and burned the sunflowers in the backyard, only for more sunflowers to appear.

The scariest experience he had is when Octavius was home alone and the phonograph started playing by itself and repeating:

"Here comes the boogeyman-"

"Here comes the boogeyman-"

"Here comes the boogeyman-"

"Here comes the boogeyman-"

Octavius began to scream and he smashed the phonograph into pieces, making his hands bleed. He never felt more terrified in his life. Then he heard a door close and hollow breathing.

With every direction he looked, he saw Aunt Mother's shadow, causing him to lose it. "GET AWAY FROM ME! L-LEAVE ME ALONE!" He shouted. He ran to his room and locked the door and turned off the lights.

He hid underneath the covers hoping that the hallucination was gone, but when he gets from underneath the covers, Aunt Mother is in front of him and she lunges at him.

Octavius later wakes up in the hospital. He doesn't remember what happened but, Gomorrah said that she was too scared to talk to him.

Gomorrah was next. She started feeling really paranoid. She tried taking care of the boys just for once, but they never wanted to talk to her.

But, one night, Gomorrah heard quick footsteps. She got up from bed only to see Sebastian. Annoyed, she walks towards him to go back to bed, but gets quite a surprise instead. She watched in fear as she saw Sebastian walk slowly into the garden as if he was drawn to it (like a zombie).

He began to pluck the sunflowers from the ground one by one. Gomorrah was terrified. When she called out to him, Sebastian turned around slowly and gave her the most horrifying glare ever. In horror, Gomorrah runs back into the room.

In the morning, Gomorrah wakes up to find that Sebastian and Marvin are gone. On the phone, she tells Gallagher what happened. He didn't seem to care much, but he told her that everything is going to be fine. Gomorrah didn't think so.

At the hospital, Octavius was having the worst time of his life. He had splitting headaches, insomniac moments, and lack of appetite. The doctors did everything they can to help him, but Octavius kept telling them that Aunt Mother was out there, trying to kill him.

"Please, you don't understand!" He would say, "She's dead and she's still out there! She's trying to kill me! She's watching me everyday! She... SHE'S A MONSTER!!"

But, none of the doctors believed him. Octavius kept having nightmares that were actually real. There was one nightmare, that a young, pregnant, Gomorrah was watching him at the dark corner of the room at night.

She began to talk about how much she hated him and how much she wanted to kill him. Her body began to melt, her blood and sloppy globs of flesh would dangle off her bones.

Her bloated belly split open and two large bodies fell from inside. It was Sebastian and Marvin. Octavius would scream in his sleep and even tried to impale his other eye with a scalpel, but the doctors would run inside and strap him onto the bed.

Sebastian was guiding Marvin to Aunt Mother's home. Marvin asked him why. "I just want to put these sunflowers on her home. Just to honor her." Sebastian said. Marvin agreed with him and continued.

When they finally arrived, they placed the sunflowers on her porch, but to their surprise...

Aunt Mother walks outside.

Sebastian and Marvin runs towards Aunt Mother and give her a tight hug. They both begin to cry in joy and confusion. Aunt Mother is surprised and she hugs back.

"Oh, dear! My boys! Are you alright? Why are you crying? I've missed you both very much!"

Sebastian and Marvin had no idea how Aunt Mother were alive, but they didn't care. They both loved her very much.

When they stayed with her, they started to feel weird. They noticed odd things about Aunt Mother too. Marvin noticed that she had bruises on her feet. Sebastian noticed that she never bothered to eat or sleep. Aunt Mother would often walk outside and water the sunflowers. When she came back inside she would look tired.

Marvin asked her what was wrong and Aunt Mother replied in a gloomy voice, "I was watering the flowers."

Sebastian and Marvin insisted onto bringing her to bed. Aunt Mother protested and said that she didn't want to sleep. Sebastian begged her to go to bed and she finally agreed.

She went to bed, but she didn't fall asleep. Aunt Mother told the boys that she couldn't sleep because she had insomnia. Sebastian knew she was sad about something, so he asked her what was up.

Aunt Mother hesitated, but then she told him the really sad story about how she lost her husband and her son.

Marvin and Sebastian were very surprised. Aunt Mother smiled sadly, and told them not to worry. When Sebastian asked her what was her son's name, she just shook her head.

"He's probably Marvin's age (18) by now." She said.

Meanwhile, Gomorrah doesn't seem to care about the boys being gone, but as time went by she felt like she was being watched. She tried to sleep, but no matter how many times she tried, her eyes would immediately open.

When she walked in the living room, the power went out. She gasped in horror when she saw something in the dark.

It starts to walk towards her.

Gomorrah began to scream and ran into the room. She closes the door and locks it. It bangs on the door from the other side. Then it stops. Water comes from underneath the door. Then she hears herself screaming from the other side of the door. Then it turns silent.

Water spills beneath the door. Then she hears a baby crying. Gomorrah opens the door and sees a baby Sebastian.

"S-Sebastian?"

Baby Sebastian looks at her with white eyes and began to cry and ran away into the darkness. Gomorrah runs after him with tears in her eyes, only for green hands to reach out and grab Gomorrah's neck.

It was Octavius.

He pins her onto the wall, strangling her. Octavius' eyes were white and blood was coming from his mouth. His body began to shift.

It was Aunt Mother.

"This is all your fault." Aunt Mother spat. Gomorrah's eyes roll back and black ooze runs from her eyes.

Gomorrah jolts awake.

She sits up, relieved that she's still alive, but when she's sees hand prints on her neck, she realized that it wasn't a dream.

Feeling scared to be alone, Gomorrah visits Aunt Mother out of paranoia. They talk for a moment then things get a little scary. (From the sneak peek.)

When Gomorrah returned home she calls Gallagher. Gallagher gets annoyed a tells her that he's coming over. Gomorrah panics and realized that Aunt Mother would hurt him if he did come over. Before she could warn him , he already hung up.

(I don't want this to be too long, so let's get this over with.)

Good Ending

Octavius escapes from the hospital and searches for Gomorrah. When he arrived, Gommorah warns him about Aunt Mother. They both realized that they were wrong for hurting Sebastian and Marvin and decided to take them back as parents.

When they arrive, Aunt Mother gets angry and attacks them in her true form. Sebastian and Marvin defend them and told her that it's was alright. Octavius and Gomorrah apologize and pleaded to have their sons back. Aunt Mother spares them. Sebastian began to cry and said one last goodbye to Aunt Mother as they leave.

"If you hurt them again, I will find you." She said to Gomorrah and Octavius.

They agree and immediately leave.

From that day on, Gomorrah and Octavius soften up on the boys little bit, but they're still a little harsh.

Octavius often visits Aunt Mother's house to give her a bowl of sunflower seeds to prove that he kept his promise of being good.

Everyone wins.

Bad Ending

Octavius tries to escape from the hospital due to madness, but the doctors find him and strap him onto the bed. Octavius then begins to laugh in a psychopathic way and decapitates himself with a bone saw.

Octavius dies.

Gomorrah is still alone in the house at night, scared for her life. When Gallagher arrives at the house, Gomorrah tries to warn him to not go in the house, but it was to late.

Aunt Mother was behind him.

She slowly kills Gallagher by throwing his body in the house. Gomorrah panics and hides under the bed and didn't come out until Gallagher's screaming stopped.

In terror, from underneath the bed she could see Gallagher's mutilated body staring at her, choking on his own blood. Sunflowers were grown into his body, through his mouth and his lower body was missing.

Gomorrah was in complete shock. She didn't come from under the bed until morning. When the police came that afternoon, they told her that Octavius was dead. When they saw Gallagher's corpse, they asked what happened, but Gomorrah remained silent.

The only thing she said was, "I'm scared."

Back at Aunt Mother's house, Sebastian woke up early and saw that Aunt Mother was making breakfast. When he finds out that Octavius committed suicide, Gallagher was murdered, and Gomorrah became mute, he immediately realized that Aunt Mother did it.

Aunt Mother gives him cold-eyed stare as Sebastian looks back with a stoic look.

"I'm sorry if it scares you." She said, "I'm rather a pacifist."

Sebastian smiled calmly...yet sadistically.

He immediately forgives her and helps make her breakfast, leaving Aunt Mother surprised.

(Whew, that was long! Did you guys like the story? And if you look closely, you can see a few easter eggs and some horror movie references! Which ending did you like better?)

[magicplanetanime]

Let’s Watch HeartCatch Precure Episodes 22 & 23!

Yeah babey!! It’s another two parter! Let’s dive right into things.

We open on an….odd scene. Erika and Tsubomi tending to the school’s flowerbeds, Tsubomi suddenly remembering she accidentally skipped gardening club yesterday. Erika asking when she joined the gardening club (a fair question). We learn that Erika plays hardball when it comes to clubs.

https://i.imgur.com/e473BUw.png

Now, I wonder what this episode will be about.

https://i.imgur.com/FSRZqgK.png

Oh.

Episode 22 - We’ve Finally Found You! The Third Precure!

Post-titlecard, we’re introduced to the gardening club president, Aya.

Aya is quite the character. This first scene is mostly spent on establishing her, and boy is she established.

https://i.imgur.com/ghwHMjz.png

https://i.imgur.com/m4df0av.png

https://i.imgur.com/iHX2yOA.png

You get the idea.

Tsubomi takes Aya to her grandmother, who Aya greatly admires, seeking advice. There’s some surely-not-relevant conversation the Three Fairies are having about the third Precure, but they hide after Aya arrives. Tsubomi’s grandma’s advice boils down to not focusing on her failures and keeping an optimistic attitude.

https://i.imgur.com/AHEdJM2.png

https://i.imgur.com/whjCf0Q.png

https://i.imgur.com/78QaR5J.png

And, well, it works! Roll credits!

Obviously not of course, but you may well note that we’re 8 minutes into the episode and the apparent conflict has already been solved. So what’s really going on here?

Well, the next day at school, we get an inkling.

https://i.imgur.com/aMHjYb1.png

Why, it’s the Student Council President. She’s here asking the Gardening Club for a favor, to have the gardening club grow plants for green curtains--something I’d never heard of before watching this episode.

https://i.imgur.com/nTe0Gik.png

https://i.imgur.com/Al6jXTB.png

Aya and her club are pumped, and if you’re wondering if this works out, good news, we immediately timeskip to after they’re grown to see (how long this takes is anyone’s guess. I’d say a few days at most?) 

https://i.imgur.com/sOUgUgi.png

Immediately this is thrown into danger, due to a sudden-onset typhoon. Seriously. Which would be ridiculous if not for the fact that a nearby Kumojacky is evidently responsible. Which is still a little ridiculous, but not more than is the norm for this genre.

https://i.imgur.com/326woFz.png

Honestly it’s still way less weird than that one episode of Sailor Moon with the volcano.

School ends up being cancelled because of this typhoon, but this doesn’t stop Tsubomi, Erika, and Aya for heading back to protect the green curtain. 

https://i.imgur.com/1qFmNBQ.png

Am I off here, I feel like this wouldn’t help? Admittedly I know rather little about typhoon/hurricane prep, as someone who’s lived in the northern half of the US for my entire life. Watching nearby are the fairies, who seem to be implying that it’s Aya who will become the third Precure.

https://i.imgur.com/5Ay1k99.png

They secure the tarp, and all seems well until Aya notices that the bud she planted specifically is the only one on the green curtain that’s wilted. This makes her kinda sorta lose it, and she runs off.

Thankfully, some unexpected help arrives in the form of Itsuki.

https://i.imgur.com/J8KWd1j.png

It doesn’t take long for Kumojacky to find the dejected Aya, and she’s promptly turned into what is probably the most unfortunate-looking Desertrian we’ve seen in the show so far.

https://i.imgur.com/msWQ6UA.png

Seriously that’s just cruel.

Itsuki meanwhile, takes the appearance of a giant plant monster in stride, calmly ordering the other students to retreat.

https://i.imgur.com/qPASzqe.png

The Desertrian engages Cure Marine, and Blossom, well

https://i.imgur.com/WLU3Syr.png

https://i.imgur.com/4EduCEI.png

She gets the brunt of Kumojacky’s new “Typhoon Punch” technique. The Desertrian doesn’t last particularly long.

https://i.imgur.com/pzMrMGX.png

As for Kumojacky, well, he gets the other end of this.

https://i.imgur.com/rMLtA1d.png

https://i.imgur.com/WNskmbt.png

The combatants’ respective laser punch beams cancel each other out, and at that stalemate, he teleports away. Of note here, I think this attack (or at least its name) is a reference to the Marble Screw from the original Pretty Cure, but I’m not 100% certain.

Watching all this go down, evidently, was Itsuki. Who first and foremost makes sure her classmate is okay. But then she comes across the fairies, doing their “we’re just average plush dolls, please do not look too closely at us” shtick, and something rather interesting happens.

https://i.imgur.com/P6ztLer.png

https://i.imgur.com/XtoeKSg.png

https://i.imgur.com/jz8ER4u.png

I think we have a good idea by now who our third Precure is going to be. Let’s be honest, it was never a huge secret. There’s only a handful of characters in this show whose hair is a color other than woody brown, and other than the villains; they’re all either presently Precures, were at one point Precures, or in Itsuki’s case, probably will be Precures.

The episode pretty much ends here, with a nice little wrap-up from Aya about how she’s going to care for her plants more tenderly from now on. It’s sweet, but I’m more interested in moving on to the next episode, because I have a good feeling about what’s going to happen next.

--

Episode 23 - Cure Sunshine is Born!

We open on Potpourri being held by Itsuki. Honestly, watching the way the little guy just absolutely melts in her hands is pretty adorable.

https://i.imgur.com/Ci8TiOL.png

https://i.imgur.com/opS5E41.png

They’re also quite sure that Itsuki is the third Precure!

https://i.imgur.com/6mXhdTW.png

Sure enough that the following evening, at Tsubomi’s place, Potpourri flees in the middle of the night to go looking for her. The day after, Tsubomi and Erika try to verify if Itsuki really is who Potpourri thinks she is, mostly doing this by following her around Very Inconspicuously.

https://i.imgur.com/BCitTei.png

Unfortunately, one of the places they trail Itsuki to is a hospital.

Hey! Remember Itsuki’s sickly older brother, Satsuki? Because the show sure does.

https://i.imgur.com/U8IB8tJ.png

Turns out he’s not really doing so hot, what with the whole Chronic Illness business. We do learn that he’s here for surgery, rather than because his illness is getting worse (and if Itsuki is to be believed, a helpful one that the doctors think “will go smoothly”), but it’s still troubling. Moreover, we learn this.

https://i.imgur.com/p1EnIL3.png

Hmm.

This is chased with a cute flashback where Baby Satsuki teaches Baby Itsuki that doing the praise the sun pose while outside makes all your worries melt away. Honestly, it’s a hard piece of advice to argue with.

https://i.imgur.com/UH8C6Gv.png

The girls leave, telling Potpourri that today wasn’t a good day to ask Itsuki about any weird dreams she’s been having. 

We do get some insight into Satsuki’s dreams though. A brief scene seems to imply he’s been having nightmares about the surgery.

https://i.imgur.com/XNkuTCA.png

Honestly as someone who has invasive surgery as a serious phobia, I don’t blame the kid. This is actually pretty damn grim, we see him grimacing, a cut to an operating table, a cut to the overhead surgical lights, and then back to him grimacing all while a string sting and his own very loud heartbeat take up the audio component of things. It’s a very tense scene which shortly fades into one of a completely different kind.

https://i.imgur.com/wpqwxxD.png

https://i.imgur.com/QIh3pN7.png

Potpourri’s gone off on their own, in the hopes of winning over Itsuki by themselves. After recovering from the initial shock (and secondary squee’ing over how cute the fairy is), Itsuki promptly….formally introduces herself.

https://i.imgur.com/SsHWXUG.png

Potpourri hits her with the Precure Sales Pitch, and Itsuki promptly zeroes in on the most important bit.

https://i.imgur.com/z6Gtens.png

I have really grown to absolutely love this character over the course of the series. Magical powers and fighting demons to protect your loved ones? That’s all well and good, but what Itsuki is really concerned about is the style.

Sadly, she turns Potpourri down. Explaining that for all the things she wants to protect, she doesn’t feel that she’s strong enough to really do that. Before Potpourri can present any kind of counter-argument, Erika and Tsubomi show up, and the fairy promptly hides under Itsuki’s shirt. Leading to this show’s second bout of awkward lump-based comedy.

https://i.imgur.com/r0lLTEM.png

Much less funny things are happening back in Satsuki’s hospital room. The poor kid’s driven himself into a panic over his shortly-upcoming operation, and when he goes to the window to try the whole “praise the sun” thing, he finds that it’s cloudy. 

All this would be bad enough, but a certain Desert Apostle makes her presence known right as Satsuki’s at his low point, looking markedly more sinister than the usual half-threat half-goofball treatment these three tend to get.

https://i.imgur.com/j1QeqlI.png

https://i.imgur.com/b8sq0Yt.png

Post-midcard, Itsuki, Erika, and Tsubomi arrive at Satsuki’s room to find it empty. The Desertrian that Sasorina made promptly walks past outside, and Erika and Tsubomi tell Itsuki to stay put. 

https://i.imgur.com/jtFDAxS.png

She does not, and, in fact, follows them, which they don’t seem to realize until she catches them transforming.

https://i.imgur.com/X7aOx3v.png

Meanwhile, this is one of the nastier Desertrians the ‘Cures have faced. It’s monstrously strong and appears to be able to shrug off most of their attacks. Also? Props to the designers for managing to make a goddamn chair with legs look sinister.

https://i.imgur.com/NfFdNKS.png

Our girls are in a tight spot, and Itsuki tries to help them, which the Desertrian does not take kindly to. 

https://i.imgur.com/klKtAFG.png

Worse, Sasorina realizes Itsuki has Potpourri. Things are looking downright dire, really. What’s a supporting character in a magical girl series to do? 

Well, I think we all know the answer to that.

https://i.imgur.com/ptO79af.png

I could honestly write essays about what happens next but they’d all boil down to oh god she’s so cool jesus christ she’s so awesome, god. Thankfully for you, my dear readers, some kind soul who goes by Dothack Xchan has the entire final three minutes of this episode uploaded onto their youtube channel, and I must recommend this as a must-watch. 

The transformation itself: Gorgeously-animated. Almost overanimated I’d even say, were it not so well-done from a cinematography standpoint too. The fact that her hair grows out, making her look “cute” like she’s always wanted before twisting up into a big pair of beautiful golden twintails? Absolutely astounding. 10/10

The actual fight? Also gorgeously animated. The sheer power in every single one of her strikes is amazing, and the way she completely knocks the Desertrian flat--at one point blowing a hole in it, is just awesome. This scene is the sort of thing that attracts people outside its core demographic to Precure, more importantly than anything else, it’s cool as hell. This is how you introduce a character.

[warlockofthethirdeye]

A Vision of Arachne

This morning I was responding to a post in a group asking what everyone’s otherworldly patron was and if they worked with gods from multiple pantheons.  I responded that I have not often worked with godforms or deities.  I’ve worked with Belial in the past and I’ve at least felt the presence of Odin, but if I were to say what my patron was I would have to choose Arachne.  Arachne is associated with the webwork of fate and the collective unconscious.  It is said her venom opens the third eye and allows one to see with clarity and receive visions often.  It is also said she is a master manipulator.  I can’t confirm or deny any of these claims, but I have always felt an odd affinity with spiders, a shamanism book long ago helped me learn one of my “spirit guides” is a spider, and often when I work I see and experience a grander webwork that I travel or pluck the strings of.  In fact, whenever I find a spider where it is in danger of being killed by another I carefully capture and release it elsewhere, despite having a mild phobia of them which is kind of funny in itself when much of my work seems to involve their symbolism.  As I have observed in my life whenever a spider sets up a web somewhere I frequent such as in my car, there are challenges ahead.  If I find a spider on my person, it means that there will soon be a positive change for the better. It would only make sense if I had an affinity with Arachne.  Spiders and their symbolism have been an important part of my spiritual and magical work for a very long time and I do indeed have frequent visions like the venom of Arachne would bestow.  Perhaps there is more to this relationship that I simply cannot recall.  Regardless, a few hours after I posted my response I had forgotten it, but in a quiet moment in a room that suddenly went dark (Not for supernatural reasons, the switch is just finicky) I sensed a presence.  I relaxed and attuned myself to find a large spider approaching me in my vision.  I had a protective barrier up and the creature stopped before it reached it.  It gazed at me, and I gazed at it.  I observed that it definitely felt like a genuine presence and was not a simple imaginary vision.  Furthermore I sensed no ill intent.  It seemed… Familiar.  Was it my spirit guide from so long ago?  In any case after this it climbed on top of my barrier and secured a thick web-thread to it before crawling over and behind my barrier and leaving in that direction, leaving the thread trailing behind for me to follow later when I was ready.  This felt like a summons.  Something like this has never happened to me before.  Have I drawn too much attention to myself?  I write all this before I leave to see what it wants me to see.  The next passage will be from after the experience.  Wish me luck. _ _ _ I prepared myself carefully.  I ritualistically bathed and washed myself clean of impurities of thought and of my ego, that I may truly see without the interference of my own personality and bias.  I energized and protected myself carefully.  I meditated and drew myself into a deep trance.  I joined my conscious, unconscious, and superconscious that we may act and sense as one and fell into a state of disinterest that I may see things as they are and further cleanse me of ego and bias.  I found myself back in that place.  I left my body behind and followed the thread that was laid for me to follow.  I quickly found myself navigating an incredibly vast network of webbing on which spiders traveled.  I focused and attuned myself to find the right threads to walk until after quite some time and a couple brief run-ins with these spiders I found myself at the center of a web laid out like a floor.  I felt many eyes watching me and when I looked up to see what was above my first feeling was terror.  I could not see them clearly.  I was not meant to.  I saw eyes, many legs, fangs dripping with venom, a womanly figure.  Her presence was powerful and instilled in me a profound sense of awe despite my initial fear.  I knelt before her. She scolded me for invoking her name so casually in such a public place.  She scolded me as though I were an impetuous and impulsive child, which… Was not incorrect.  She continued to say that I constantly act without thinking.  My abilities may be similar to her gifts but I was not of her flock nor did she have any interest in me.  My associations with her were nonexistent and she urged me to think before making such lofty claims as being blessed by her or having an affinity with her.  I apologized.  I did not mean any offense.  I admitted I spoke without thinking.  She seemed satisfied and bid me to leave. I did rise and turned to leave, but hesitated.  I felt I had something to ask but was not sure if I had the right or if it would be impulsive.  She saw my hesitation and bid me to speak.  I did not know what to ask, but she sensed my desire to enhance my mental vision, a gift she could indeed bestow.  This made her laugh.  She said I already had the power to improve my vision myself with practice but then hesitated, herself.  She admitted I had power and said that one day I could make an excellent “Weaver.”  But though amused, she bid me again, firmly, to be gone.  I obeyed. I’m not sure if posting this would irritate her further, or if publicly displaying my foolishness would please her.  I will take the risk. I am not blessed by Arachne.  Arachne is not my patron.  Arachne’s gifts are not mine and it is a lie to say I have any association with her.  I have taken her name in vain.  I didn't mean to spread misinformation about how powerful I actually am or who I am tied to.  I am sorry.  But, having experienced this has certainly piqued my curiosity.  Perhaps in time I will investigate further after some more thought.  I do not wish to act on impulse.

Lesson learned: Don’t make any assumptions, especially when it comes to magick and deities.  Don’t assume any particular being has your back unless they tell you specifically that they do.  Don’t talk casually about this stuff, either.

I need to re-evaluate some things. _ _ _ Eight hours have passed.  I have re-evaluated things and made a lot of important discoveries. Being scolded in such a way forced me to take some time to ask myself a lot of hard questions and I learned a lot about myself in the process. I need to think before I act, I need to not be impulsive, and I need to have confidence in the decisions I do take the time to thoroughly think out. I shouldn’t ask myself and wonder for hours on end what is wrong and hope for some answer to fall into my lap.  I need to focus and TELL myself what to do or at least give myself suggestions and work from there. I need to listen to my own sense and reason before what anyone else tells me. I’m a really chill dude at heart.  I need to take time to relax, enjoy life, enjoy the world around me, and help others to the same instead of just sitting around all day because it is the former that I am naturally inclined to do. Life is too short to be miserable.  LAUGH. The only thing I should be afraid of is the fear and anxiety that keeps me from acting and keeps me from acting in the way that brings me true happiness in the long run. I need to ask myself before I decide to do something whether it is something that will actually bring me enjoyment or if it is just a habit (videogames) or an obligation (some social media). If I’m not satisfied with where I am in life I have to push and fight for what I want!  Nothing will come to me if I just wait for it to come to me.  I need to seek this stuff out and use my sense and reason to do so. And lastly I put too much time and effort into things that don’t make me happy and I don’t invest ENOUGH time and effort into the things that do! All of this I realized on my own after my talk with Arachne.  Do you know what that means?  The Lady of spiders and, “Manipulation” told me exactly what I needed to hear to discover all of this for myself in an open and honest way.  If she was really peeved at me wouldn’t she have done something more drastic or NOT have responded to me at all instead of scolding me like a mother scolds a child?  No.  I called out to her, intentionally or not, and she responded by giving me what I needed to figure this stuff out on my own and encourage my independence.  I wanted to be gifted with wisdom, but what I got was a kick in the pants that made me realize I already have the wisdom and I just have to dig it up! Tough love.  Lets look at what she actually said and read between the lines.  She told me to not be impulsive, really think about things, but that I already had power and did not need her gifts.  I can become stronger and wiser on my own, I should not look to anyone but myself for answers, get the f*ck out and get to work. She does not need my worship, but she has earned my respect.  If she was not my patron before I WILL honor her as my patron now.  I will make a shrine to her and it shall represent everything she helped me learn for myself.  The shrine will be a monument to the person I become and the things I learn thanks to her guidance.  And even if she never deigns to speak with me again she will know that I am incredibly grateful for the incredible insight she sparked in me.  I will not forget these lessons and I will always remember who helped me see clearly when my vision clouded the path ahead. Huh.  I guess she did bless me with her venom after all.  Just not in the way I expected.

[kishketon]

“And as it is appointed unto men once to die, but after this the judgment: So Christ was once offered to bear the sins of many; and unto them that look for him shall he appear the second time without sin unto salvation.” Hebrews 9:27-28 Death rides beside us every day. It is no secret that our lives are fragile and can be snuffed out at less than a moments notice. No one can escape death and death always comes too soon. No matter where we go or what we do, death is ever present. I have known more than one person that died suddenly and unexpectedly. I think that we have all probably known someone who woke up one morning and never in their wildest dreams thought that they would die that day. Far to often death is sudden and tragic. Death is almost always hard to accept and even harder to explain when the young are involved. Last Saturday night my granddaughter was visiting at my house when she asked me, “Papa are you going to die?” Since she is a very thoughtful child and by the look on her face when she said, “I don’t want you to die,” I could tell that she had been thinking about this for a while. God’s word says that we all have an appointment with death. Every man, woman and child will eventually die. Not many of us will know when or where our death will occur but we can be assured of the fact that it will happen. How and when do you explain to a seven year old what death is all about? That question became very real Saturday night as I attempted to explain in the simplest terms that death was real but so is heaven. My grand baby just looked at me and said, “I know but I still don’t want you to die.” Death is not only hard for children to deal with, it is hard for adults to deal with. Just a couple of days ago I found out that a very close friend of mine is riddled with cancerous tumors. The thought of him passing on to heaven brought a lump to my throat and I spent my day in sadness. I didn’t feel this way because I fear death but because I know how much he loves life. He is an awesome man and always has a positive word and a good attitude.As Christians neither one of us fear death. In fact, even before I converted to Christianity I didn’t really fear death. I was suicidal for the most part so death wasn’t really an issue for me. The issue for me was how I would die. I have an odd fear of being eaten alive and that has had an adverse effect on me. I was attacked a couple of times as a child by dogs and so I tend to fear them which I attribute to my phobia of being eaten alive. When it is my time to go I hope that I simply go to sleep one night and wake up in heaven. After my conversion my greatest desire was to die and go to heaven to be with Jesus. A psychologist once told me that I had unhealthy infatuation with death. I don’t really think that is true but when the Lord calls my name I will go with no regrets. The Apostle Paul told the Philippian Church, “For to me to live is Christ, and to die is gain. But if I live in the flesh, this is the fruit of my labour: yet what I shall choose I wot not. For I am in a strait betwixt two, having a desire to depart, and to be with Christ; which is far better: Nevertheless to abide in the flesh is more needful for you.” I understand this feeling. The Bible speaks of heaven and I believe it is a place that is beyond our greatest imagination. For one it is the throne room of God. The Bible says that no man has seen God and it describes Him and His throne room as a place or wonder and amazement.I can only imagine what it will be like to see heaven. I can’t wait to see all of the angels and the new Jerusalem, what a sight that will be. I look forward to the day when I will be reunited with my loved ones that have trusted in Jesus and gone on before me. Scripture says that, “Eye has not seen and ear has not heard the wonderful things that the Lord has prepared for those that love him.” Am I ready to die today? Well, when my children were small I was overcome by a strong desire to live and do the best that I could to provide a good life for them. I worked hard and tried to give them everything that they needed to make a good life for themselves. That was a major part of my purpose as a man as well as my passion for preaching the word of God. My children are all grown now and they are all gone building their own lives.At times I have felt like I am now ready to go. I have even prayed to be released from this life to move on to heaven with Jesus. Something amazing happened to me when I looked down and saw those beautiful brown eyes looking up at me with a shudder of concern in her voice as she said, ‘Papa I don’t want you to die.” At that point I realized, I still have a purpose in life. My heart breaks for my friend, not because I or he fears death but because he loves life so much. I know that he knows where he is going as well as I know where I am going. When the time comes we will both be headed to heaven. Death is not always timely but it is inevitable. The question is not will it happen but are you ready when it does.

[damienthepious]

TELL US ABOUT ALL THE OCS!! ilandere, kalinda, callise, enna, lerato, raske, blacklight, clamor, bonny, vmni !!!

OKAY OMG THANK YOU I LOVE YOU BUT ALSO THIS IS GONNA BE THE LONGEST POST EVER SO IT’S GOOOOING UNDER A CUT

like . no capslock to show how srs i am this is the longest post ever fair warning

I AM THE LEAST CONCISE PERSON IN HISTORY dear mobile users I AM SORRY, also i spent so much time writing all these it’s a little ridiculous?? wow

Ilandere [my daughter my darling baby girl] [novel character - sci fi - sisterworlds!verse]

Full Name: Ilandere CirilaGender and Sexuality: she’s a gal and… errrr demisexual lesbian??? aro/ace with an exception???? she is in love with one woman and. that is kind of the end-all-be-all of her sexualityPronouns: she/herEthnicity/Species: Human, but non-earth human so it’s hard to say exact ethnicity? hold up i know i have a pic, and Set you (you wonderful person you) asked for a pic in another ask so… 

ignore the self-deprecation, pls, she’s got brown skin and freckles and long wavy hair and bright… bright teal eyes…

Birthplace and Birthdate: Er. non-earth again so. 17 Eshana moon, year 305 of the imperial calendar, which means nothing to nobody, and she was born in out in the suburban sprawl near Asmara cityGuilty Pleasures: fairy tales. she’s kind of a…. scientific prodigy, and ‘frivolous’ pursuits are kind of frowned upon in her culture, so she keeps her interest in fairy tales and mythology on the dl for the most partPhobias: well. ilandere, you see, works primarily on the theoretical physics of portals, so she has a fairly… deep seated, and very well informed… fear of portal fragging. like. being partway through a portal when it closes? being…. cut in pieces by a portal ceasing to be. that…. terrifies her, at the deepest level.What They Would Be Famous For: Oh well she’s kind of a mathematical genius? and she kind of is famous for that? she’s ‘one of the most promising scientific minds of her generation’What They Would Get Arrested For: um. not returning library books on time. is literally the ONLY THING i can think of.OC You Ship Them With: Kalinda :3OC Most Likely To Murder Them: holy shit. nobody in the fucking multiverse are you kidding. she is. the sweetest and kindest person. in those ‘should you fight’ memes she’s the fucking one who gets ‘yeah you can beat her but WHY WOuLD YOU WANT TO YOU MONSTER’Favorite Movie/Book Genre: she doesn’t much watch movies or plays, she has a really hard time keeping focus on them and she tends to get distracted by ideas for her work halfway through. books tho! she is literally always reading! she loves to read math books straight up. lil nerd. she likes biographies too, and, seeeecretly, mythology & fairy tale booksLeast Favorite Movie/Book Cliche: Nerd Girl Gets Makeover And Suddenly Has Straight Hair And Doesn’t Need Her Glasses And Is Pretty Now Really And Suddenly Deserves The Boy!!!!! like ew she hates that shit as both a nerd and as someone who has less than zero interest in boys.Talents and/or Powers: Did I already say math genius? p sure yeah. Also. and this is something she doesn’t know anything about. Something that’s literally just meta knowledge that I know. She has a sort of…. aura of influence? She’s magnetic. She just attracts attention (positive or negative) naturally, wherever she goes, without meaning to or really trying.Why Someone Might Love Them: She is. Bubbly and enthusiastic, she is brilliant and bright and generous and chipper and she’s. my baby.Why Someone Might Hate Them: she…. can get really caught up in herself? she might forget about everything around her because of whatever she’s working on just then? She’s also not… particularly humble? she’s not a braggart but she also doesn’t know how to… downplay her skills for other people’s comfort? like, her attention grabbing aura will occasionally breed… jealousy and spite? but frankly it usually doesn’t last past actually getting to know her.How They Change: !!!!! I’ll tell you when i actually write the book!!!!!! no but really she is eventually supposed to learn how to live in the moment, to…. really see other people around her? to realize that the world around her isn’t some dream she’ll wake up from to start having a ‘real life’, if that makes sense? she has an all-encompassing goal for much of her story that she lets absolutely consume her, and she sort of… learns eventually… that that was something of a mistake, even though she does get what she wants in the end. She missed out on her friends and family while they were right there with her.Why You Love Them: real talk tho ilandere and kalinda together were some of my first Real, Serious OCs. they were…. between the two of them, they were me exploring my sexuality. they were me becoming okay with liking ladies. and they’ve both grown just. just sooooo much with me. ilandere -  i played her and kalinda in this big fun larp my now-bf was running, and they really helped me build my storytelling, build my acting. Ilandere was a soft, brainy kid stuck with a bunch of fighters, and she could still keep up and prove her value with her mind and her talents and her generosity of spirit, and i love her so. so so very much. She’s grown with me too- she helped me come to terms with my autism, and i realized that i had always played her- with that part of me? her odd speech patterns, her social skills that she worked so hard on but didn’t come easily to her, her stimming! she is just- i can’t emphasize enough how much she means to me, as a character, as an extension of myself.

Kalinda [novel character - fantasy- sisterworlds!verse]

Full Name: Kalinda Flint Beryl (look gemstone surnames are really common on her world it’s totally not weird)Gender and Sexuality: lesbian!Pronouns: she/herEthnicity/Species: non-earth human again, i’ve been revamping her look lately so i don’t actually have a faceclaim or anything yet, but i think like, in earth terms she’d be southeast asian? maybe?Birthplace and Birthdate: urgh uh midsummer in the year 1105 AK (she is two years older than Ilandere, as far as that relativity nonsense goes, since they’re from…… different fucking planets), and she was born out in the countryside, in her mum’s cottageGuilty Pleasures: pretty much… everything? she doesn’t actually…. spend any intentional time on pleasure? she kind of deprives herself of anything that could distract her from her goals, at all. So like. enjoying a fucking sunset for two seconds would make her feel guilty and pissed off.Phobias: claustrophobia, and also certain specific types of magic? like the kind of…. ancient, deep magic that lives in the bones of the earth, that lives in the void between stars, that lives in the undercurrents of death. that kind of magic.What They Would Be Famous For: She’s a fairly skilled swordsmith, a fairly skilled mage, and a fairly skilled fighter all around, but she’s none of those things enough to be really…. famous for them?What They Would Get Arrested For: hahahaha i didn’t think about this when i wrote Ilandere’s but. straight up for stealing books. that has. actually happened.OC You Ship Them With: Ilandere!!!!! :DOC Most Likely To Murder Them: Hrm. She has a parental figure, her smithing mentor? who is pretty dang peeved off at Kalinda for the. like. the way she chose to live her life? but prooooobably only enough to. y’know. smack her around a bit in frustrated affection? yeah.Favorite Movie/Book Genre: magic…. tomes…. she hasn’t read for fun since childhood, alasLeast Favorite Movie/Book Cliche: she seriously Does Not CareTalents and/or Powers: She’s a spellsword, and her magic specialization is like, some weird combination of nature/flora magic and… void magic.Why Someone Might Love Them: she has a central core of tempered steel. she is strong and unwavering. and despite her insistence on prioritizing her own goals above all else, she will still stop to help others if she sees them in trouble (tho she might pretend to grumble about it). Why Someone Might Hate Them: she’s also kind of unapproachable, and could possible be seen as… like…. heartless? she’s very very good at acting like she doesn’t care about other people, provided they aren’t in immediate danger. and she just doesn’t have the fucking time of day for small talk or petty problems, and she’s spent so much time on her own that her social skills completely suckHow They Change: she keeps that steely incorruptible core, but she slowly, painfully learns to soften her edges. to actually value the cliche and stop to smell the roses. it’s not easy to transition into finally having what you spent your whole life wanting, but eventually… she learns to take comfort as it comes.Why You Love Them: All the reasons in the same section of Ilandere’s set, because these two babes area package deal with me. Also, because i am a spiteful creator and i am sick to death of ‘tuff gurl is straight 2 break stereotypes!’ and Kalinda is my short haired, sword slinging, hard-scrabble, tough-as-nails, lesbian baby. Kalinda helped me learn to be… unapologetic.

Callise [rp character]

Full Name: she… doesn’t have one? her actual designation is ‘Calypso’, but she does not know that.Gender and Sexuality: she’s bi, and she might, eventually, come to understand herself as nonbinary? but she doesn’t do a lot of introspection so for all intents & purposes she’s a woman.Pronouns: she/herEthnicity/Species: human/living portal storm??????Birthplace and Birthdate: in… a lab…. at some undisclosed time…. that no one knows anymore because that dimension….. is gone… holy shit why am i like thisGuilty Pleasures: ohhhh she does not believe in this concept at all. Callise is sort of a live-for-the-moment um. hedonist? look she suffers a LOT throughout her nonsense life so she isn’t gonna care about eating some fuckign cake or having some sex, ya dig?Phobias: enclosed spaces, being restrained, deserts, starving to deathWhat They Would Be Famous For: ????? being….. fucked the fuck up???? and feral?????????What They Would Get Arrested For: literally not giving an entire shit about the laws of any fucking world she’s onOC You Ship Them With: a glass of warm milk & a fucking good night’s sleepOC Most Likely To Murder Them: anyone… who is easily scared by teeth gnashing and snarling i suppose?Favorite Movie/Book Genre: she doesn’t consume a LOT of media? and she typically can’t read the languages on the worlds she’s stuck on? but she fucking loves popcorn action movies and shitty comedies and just stuff that’s Fun she doesn’t have to think about at alllllll Least Favorite Movie/Book Cliche: …. evil scientists are a genuine trigger for herTalents and/or Powers: um. she’s. her physical form is irretrievably merged with a portal storm. like, a storm in spacetime that punches holes into various multiversal dimensions? she can sometimes control it? in little bits? but mostly it manifests as the storm completely… demolishing whatever world she’s in at that moment? usually it takes a few years after she comes to a place, but eventually the storm will ‘catch up’ to her, and the longer she’s been there the worse it will be, and then the storm will fuck up the world and…. kill her. and she will wake up on the next world. if she dies in another way, she’ll wake up in the next place anyway regardless. she really, really doesn’t understand it, not even to the point of knowing that she is the storm. she thinks the storm is chasing her.Why Someone Might Love Them: she’s…. uh… very honestly herself? she is 10000% in the moment and earnest about everything. she has no deception whatsoever within herself. Why Someone Might Hate Them: … she has no deception whatsoever within herself. she is indescribably blunt. she is… kind of animalistic and violent and doesn’t care about laws or social rules and she does things, sometimes, on the smallest fucking whim, including occasionally biting people??? and punching things and people for fun??? like she loves fighting people and sometimes it’s sort of foreplay too??? and breaking stuff just to break stuff? so… yeahHow They Change: oh Cal changes so much over the course of her long, long, looooooong life, and not always for the better? she kind of slips…. depending on how she’s treated on each world she portals to, she slips in and out of feral!Cal mode? if she’s chased and hunted, if she’s locked up, if she’s treated with violence, she’ll go wild. She, as a character, kind of reflects how she’s treated at any given time? Why You Love Them: she’s my monster child. i mean, she’s kind of a vent character? and because of her nature, i can slip her into any sort of narrative i feel like atm, which makes her a pretty fun rp character. if she dies, she dies! that particular narrative is donezo, oh well, but she gets to run off and have adventures somewhere else! it’s really fun

Enna [novel character - fantasy - elementals!verse]

Full Name: *rubs my horrible hands together* okay there is a reincarnation component to the is character so??? the first name she was given was Endellion Devlin, her title is Phoenix, and she’s had like eighteen other names including Aideen Lucero and Shea EdenGender and Sexuality: bisexual, and genderfluid between usually a woman and agender or male more occasionallyPronouns:depends what gender she’s feeling, so usually she/herEthnicity/Species: human/elemental, and bc of that reincarnation element her ethnicity changes from lifetime to lifetimeBirthplace and Birthdate: er. lots of different ones? again with the non-earth world. i’m quite predictable on that front. (i kind of hate/suck at writing plain old earth)Guilty Pleasures: hmm…. well…. she feels a bit… low-key guilty about… how much she enjoys fighting? like the physical act of fighting, she takes lot of joy in, and she feels weird about that because… obviously… fighting hurts peoplePhobias: confinement, death, drowningWhat They Would Be Famous For: leading a rebellion to overthrow a bigoted oppressive regime :3What They Would Get Arrested For: leading a rebellion to overthrow a bigoted oppressive regime :3OC You Ship Them With: Lerato, also, Sil TivanOC Most Likely To Murder Them: oh, pretty much anyone in the Creed (aforementioned bigotd oppressive regime), but mostly Raith. who kind of… has? actually? killed her. at least three times.Favorite Movie/Book Genre: sheeeee…. doesn’t actually read or consume media p much ever? she’s too action oriented. she doesn’t like stopping to watch/read things. but if she did…….. soppy romanceLeast Favorite Movie/Book Cliche: ditto above response minus the endingTalents and/or Powers: mmm she’s a fire elemental, can produce and manipulate fire/heat, and kindasorta fly with it? also, elemental powers in this world present at puberty (yes kind of like x men thanx), and enna can sense whether or not a child is going to develop into an elemental later in lifeWhy Someone Might Love Them: she is pure fucking passion sculpted into human form. she’s the kind of person to dance barefoot outside in a thunderstorm, splashing in literally every puddle. plus she is just really very compassionate, protective, honest, funWhy Someone Might Hate Them: hmmmmmm because she is unapologetic about everything she does. she’s a fighter and she will fight you if you threaten the people she cares about, and she will not pull her punches. not at all.How They Change: during the novel i’m planning/writing, she starts off in an odd place emotionally, because she’s been… conditioned, sort of, to repress herself, and control herself, which is really really contrary to her nature, and she has to spend the first third of the story unlearning that training and becoming herself again, tho she’s feeling very burnt out about her… purpose… at that point? Then, something happens that fucks with her… worldview, and her sense of self, and she runs away, which is also pretty damn against her nature, or at least against the way she’s always lived her life, and then she spends some time learning how to slow down and enjoy things again, and remembering why it is that she fights in the first place, and who she fights for, and then… that ends really poorly too. the last part of the novel is her companion slowly slowly earning her trust back, and Enna coming back into her own as a leader and a fighter and as a whole person, finally, instead of just a symbol.Why You Love Them: Enna was created not long after Ilandere & Kalinda, meaning that she came pretty early in my creative growth, and so a lot of her meta character changes are really relevant to my life? she another bi baby of mine. also… i really like to hope that i would be as brave as her if i was in her position. she’s an ideal for me, and i aspire to be like her.

Lerato [novel character - fantasy - elementals!verse]

Full Name: Lerato SorchaGender and Sexuality: bi womanPronouns: she/herEthnicity/Species: human/elementalBirthplace and Birthdate: i’m gonna leave this at a very very long fucking time ago in a place that burned to the groundGuilty Pleasures: look poor Lerato feels guilty about a lot of very legitimate things, but she doesn’t waste a lot of time berating herself for small pleasuresWhat They Would Be Famous For: Back In The Day, she’d be famous for the whole revolutionary leader thing that Enna takes over from her, but nowadays she really prefers to hang out in the background, on the sidelines, offering support and advice. she is TiredWhat They Would Get Arrested For: i mean. collusion with a known resistance leader, so.OC You Ship Them With: Ennaaaaaaaaaaaaa. she really really really loves Enna, just, so fucking much. for all the good it does either of them.OC Most Likely To Murder Them: Raith holy shit, because Raith is a jealous horrible. um. monster. and yet again. has actually killed Lerato before. but only once. and also Gideon would, because of that whole being a leader in the Creed thing.Favorite Movie/Book Genre: she likes poetry an awful lot.Least Favorite Movie/Book Cliche: love triangles.Talents and/or Powers: she’s also an elemental, but substantially older than Enna, and her powers present a bit differently. she can teleport in a kind of hazy burst, can recover from damage by ‘fading’ out, and she can sense elementals at a distance (this sense is particularly attuned to Enna, actually, and one or two others)Why Someone Might Love Them: she is very sensitive and attentive to other people’s emotional states, and she is loyal to a fucking fault. if she thinks you are deserving, she will 100% fucking die for you. she’s also like… fierce and gentle at the same time? she makes me think of turtledoves and rainclouds and campfire smoke and i find her utterly loveableWhy Someone Might Hate Them: she never fucking says what she fucking means, and she keeps pretending that she doesn’t feel anything when she’s fucking dying inside because she fucking thinks that being self-sacrificing will somehow! fucking! help! anything!  also she has been known to… string people along, because she doesn’t want to hurt them, so she just… she’ll deliberately neglect to clarify her emotions because she’s afraid to make someone else feel bad about them. it’s not dishonesty… but it is p much cowardice.How They Change: Lerato learns that a) sacrificing yourself is not always the best fucking option, especially not when you haven’t consulted the person being protected, and b) you don’t get what you actually want if you don’t say what you actually want and c) …  that she deserves to be treated well, that she deserves and always did deserve better, that she didn’t deserve abuse and coercion, that she can be and should be happy.Why You Love Them: Well, Lerato started as kind of a… if Enna was who i wanted to be, then Lerato kind of formed from this nebulous fictional idea of a person i would want to fall in love with / want to fall in love with me? and thus tbh Lerato changed from a super cliche, jane austen/jane eyre mysterious romantic leading man who would do anything for Enna, and developed slowly into a woman with quite complex motivations and emotions who i still wouldn’t mind doing a smooch with. i am a mature content creator. fuck. so anyway, i love Lerato because… well… i kind of made her to be loved?

Raske [rp character - x files]

Full Name: Harriet Delilah RaskeGender and Sexuality: queer womanPronouns: she/herEthnicity/Species: she? doesn’t know? she’s adopted & her ethnicity’s never really been important to her. also she’s a rare Actual Earth Human from my character rolodex, wow weird.Birthplace and Birthdate: you’d think, considering that whole Actual Earth Human thing i’d have an answer for this? i know her bday is April 7th, but i can’t remember if the rp she’s from took place period to the original x files show or if the gm updated it to modern, and that changes the year sooooGuilty Pleasures: frankly? she kind of secretly enjoys making people feel uncomfortable about her prosthetic leg. if people get weird about it on their own? she makes a point to dial it up and just. low key fuck with them.What They Would Be Famous For: deadpan humor and avoiding her feeliesWhat They Would Get Arrested For: maybe kind of possibly breaking the law in pursuit of Truth That Is Probably Out There?OC You Ship Them With: proper mental heath careOC Most Likely To Murder Them: ~~~Mysterious G Men~~~Favorite Movie/Book Genre: she doesn’t watch movies a lot. She used to really like medical drama tv shows, but now she spends her time listening to audiobooks, usually biographies or historical fictionLeast Favorite Movie/Book Cliche: she hates hates hates the ‘lone sniper’ myth in fictionTalents and/or Powers: she’s a tough cookie and an excellent shot with both a pistol and a rifleWhy Someone Might Love Them: you know how working hard for something makes it seem more worthwhile once you get there? it’s like that with Raske. if you pay enough attention you realize that she’s actually so fucking funny, it’s just that she always delivers her humor completely deadpan. she’s got a lot of subtlety to her in every emotion, so once you get to know her and you can see through her veneer, you realize she’s an awkward, funny, sensitive, endearing worrywart, who only pretends to be totally in control of herself.  and also she could totally throw you over her shoulder and carry you off into the sunset so there’s that angle also ;3Why Someone Might Hate Them: well, if you don’t manage to get through her crunchy exterior, then all you’re gonna wind up seeing is a stone faced gal who never fucking laughs and won’t give anyone the time of day for small talk. also she stole the last cup of coffee and didn’t put a new pot onHow They Change: she gets… way more paranoid…. and also she bonds with her fellow agents in a totally dweeby found-family wayWhy You Love Them: she’s really different from the sorts of characters i usually play rp-wise? i almost always trend towards really emotional characters, and talkative ones, and Raske is kind of the opposite of that? so she really let me stretch out my character building muscles, and she helped me work on more subtle acting. 

Blacklight [rp character - superhero!verse]

Full Name: Sabrina Aurore SeaverGender and Sexuality: aro bi gal (i’m realizing a trend, here)Pronouns: she/herEthnicity/Species: mixed race black/Korean metahumanBirthplace and Birthdate: Boston, April 8th, 1989Guilty Pleasures: ehhhh when she was younger she used to be into some recreational drug use (nowadays she mostly just drinks, & she smokes occasionally too)What They Would Be Famous For: her awesomesauce freerunning skillzWhat They Would Get Arrested For: well, y’see, vigilante-ism is technically… actually… very illegalOC You Ship Them With: she hooks up with a lot of people and has a lot of fun with them, but she… doesn’t have… romantic feelies?? p much ever? her and Sharkie (who i s2g i will figure out a real name for eventually) kind of develop a really sweet queerplatonic relationship eventuallyOC Most Likely To Murder Them: mmm Clamor but mostly in a if you get yourself killed i will murder you sort of wayFavorite Movie/Book Genre: bad/good 80′s moviesLeast Favorite Movie/Book Cliche: helpless damsel needs rescuing by Big Strong MahnTalents and/or Powers: copied from her rp blog bio bc i’m a laaazy nb: Her range of vision is substantially better, spanning from ultraviolet to infrared (meaning that she can also ‘see’ heat, to a point). During the day, her body absorbs ultraviolet light and emanates heat without any conscious effort on her part, and at night it does the opposite, causing her body to effectively become a black-light (hence the name). The odd way her skin interacts with light and heat is responsible for her relatively pale complexion, since it makes her incapable of tanning properly, and it also means that she cannot be damaged by heat by itself, though fire, a chemical reaction, can still burn her just fine. She can manipulate and produce infrared, visible spectrum, and ultraviolet light as well, creating bright blinding flashes or heating flammable material until it combusts (though she cannot produce or manipulate fire itself).Why Someone Might Love Them: legitimate love for you, my dude. she’ll risk her idiot skin to save your life and then take you out dancing, she’ll smile like a bonfire and laugh like you’ve said the funniest thing she’s ever heard and she’ll mean it, really and truly. she’s easy to fall in love with because she treats every interaction and every person with attention and care. she is genuinely interested in what you have to say. she will make you feel important, and funny and special, and lmao then she’ll break your fucking heart because yes, she loves you, of course she loves you, she would die for you and she’d help you move, but not like that dude i’m sorry. she doesn’t love you like That.Why Someone Might Hate Them: that last bit, also she’s irreverent and reckless and a bit careless with herself and sometimes other people, because the idea that she could hurt other people’s feelings by putting herself in danger just. doesn’t occur to her? ever? and if you’re nasty to her she will turn into THE BIGGEST SHIT, she goes FULL BRAT MODE and she is. p unlikable when she aims that at yaHow They Change: she learns a) it’s okay that she doesn’t have feelings for people. she’s not broken. she doesn’t need to change herself for someone else. she doesn’t need to pretend. it’s okay. b) being a reckless idiot while in a costume and mask will Get You Shot, dummy. c) you can’t compartmentalize your whole life. things will start to bleed over before you expect them to and it will Not end wellWhy You Love Them: oh, baby blacklight. I came up with her for a larp my bro was running, his superhero verse is Really cool. She started as sort of a tropebreaker? she’s a superhero because she has powers and because she thought it would be FUN. she has literally no angst about her superpowers, she has a pretty cool home life, she isn’t hard up for money, her parents are BOTH ALIVE and she has a halfway decent relationship with them? and i fell in love with that idea hard. also she’s just developed into this really fun, happy, positive person with a good impact on the world, and she lets me live vicariously thru her extroverted party girl self

Clamor [rp character - superhero!verse]

Full Name: Kai “Kitty” MahoeGender and Sexuality: lesbianPronouns: she/herEthnicity/Species: hawaiian, metahumanBirthplace and Birthdate: June 2nd, 1991, Los AngelesGuilty Pleasures: lmao nahWhat They Would Be Famous For: for being the worst low-level villain and stealing the most petty shit ever in history, you already have like eight amps and more fucking sound equipment than any human could ever want, also you can do that with your fucking body already i hate youWhat They Would Get Arrested For: “”OC You Ship Them With: she’s… kind of in love with Blacklight? and it’s a bit fucked up…. she mostly plays it off as No One Fucks With My Hero But Me, but she’s saved Sabrina’s life at least three times and occasionally tries to make out with her under the pretense of near-death adrenalineOC Most Likely To Murder Them: …. Sharkie (god i need a NAME for them)Favorite Movie/Book Genre: period romance Least Favorite Movie/Book Cliche: the fucking wilhelm screamTalents and/or Powers: she can manipulate sound with her mind/body. she can amplify or muffle noises around her, and she can use a sort of rhythm… frequency… amplification thing to turn sound into a weapon. she can create sonic blasts easily or make someone temporarily deaf. she could do this with just any old noises, but she is fucking Extra and always uses instruments, particularly percussion and particularly drumsticks, tho she can play a bunch of different things. Why Someone Might Love Them: she’s actually p funny and clever and fun to hang out with as a civilian…….Why Someone Might Hate Them: … but her alter-ego is a complete fucking shithead, she’s a selfish dick and she Will Steal Everything You LoveHow They Change: tbh she’s still to early in development for me to know this quite yetWhy You Love Them: i love bratty irreverent characters sometimes

Bonny [novel character - sci fi - Star Stray]

Full Name: Bonny Read CalumniGender and Sexuality: bisexual nonbinary womanPronouns: she/herEthnicity/Species: human Birthplace and Birthdate: she was born on a colony called Atlantis on the moon Europa, at some as-of-yet unspecified Future Year, November 14thGuilty Pleasures: she sneaks off to places she shouldn’t be on every single spaceship she’s been on. she loves finding secret places to hide, and she uses them like an earth kid would use a tree fort, to keep her little treasures and private stuff, and to hide from her momWhat They Would Be Famous For: well… acheiving First Contact with an alien species lmaoWhat They Would Get Arrested For: … nothing??? she is actually quite a sweet young woman, not exactly criminal material, unlike most of my oc children.OC You Ship Them With: her long distance friend/crush/ex, DalOC Most Likely To Murder Them: there are a few angry splinter factions that are veeery against the nasty alien creature that came from the sky, so probably them?Favorite Movie/Book Genre: she loves YA, specifically dystopian YALeast Favorite Movie/Book Cliche: she hates the super smart child prodigy clicheTalents and/or Powers: she’s really good at taking things apart and fixing them, and she’s really great at figuring out how mechanical things work.Why Someone Might Love Them: she will fix the AC in your room and bring you snacks and listen to you vent about your day and give you a comisserating, rueful smile. when the conversation lulls, she’ll come out with an unexpected joke just to surprise you into laughing. she will dance ot any music. she will go to a museum full of stuff she doesn’t actually care much about or understand just to make silly jokes about everything there with you. look she’s just. dweeby but charming about it anyway.Why Someone Might Hate Them: her anger issues make her difficult to get along with sometimes? she tends to bottle her feelings and then eventually, inevitably explodesHow They Change: mmmm she stops hiding her desires to make other people happy, and she um. learns not to be an asshole to aliens for no reason? and to be fcking respectful of Vmna and their cultureWhy You Love Them: she a good space girl. lov her. sorry i’m so damn tired

Vmna [novel character - sci fi - Star Stray]

Full Name: [i fucking wrote their name wrong in the tag bc i’m ridiculous, and also i can’t remember ipa and their language is super weird so this is going to be unpronounceable]   k’ Vmna nksGender and Sexuality: Vmna’s people don’t actually have a concept of ‘gender’ that in any way parallels human gender, so they kind of don’t have sexuality either? like as a conceptPronouns: they/themEthnicity/Species: their species doesn’t really have a translatable name, but Bonny tends to call them ‘centaurs’Birthplace and Birthdate: [insert words that don’t fucking make sensewithout the context of the novel]Guilty Pleasures: What They Would Be Famous For: being the first of her species to actually speak with and make friends with an alien life formWhat They Would Get Arrested For: maybe for sneaking Fun contraband to the alien without permissionOC You Ship Them With: i believe that'll have to wait for the sequel novel! but she is totally gonna wind up falling for a human i betOC Most Likely To Murder Them: ditto Bonny’s answer, because they consider Vmna complicitFavorite Movie/Book Genre: there’s a specific genre on their world that’s p much just ‘comfort fiction’, like? just sound/image/smell/story combinations that are made to be pure comfort. they love those.Least Favorite Movie/Book Cliche: lmao in fiction on their world has a cliche of all aliens looking like mis-colored versions of their own species but, like, with weird feet usuallyTalents and/or Powers: Vmna is very good at linguistics Why Someone Might Love Them: they are attentive and clever, and they’re ridiculously empatheticWhy Someone Might Hate Them: no good reason goddamn. Vmna is lovelyHow They Change: Vmna learns to appreciate Earth Music and Earth Idioms and Earth Humor, and they also grow to be more confident in their skills as a linguist  and a sociologistWhy You Love Them: Vmnaaaaaaaa is super cool and they’re also like, the Primo Example of me spitewriting? because their ENTIRE species exists because i’m hella bitter about shitty alien design in fiction? like i haaaaate miscolored Space Babe design? i hate boring anthropocentric alien design???? SO MUCH??? as someone once said (i think it was Dal?) (and i’m paraphrasing), CONVERGENT EVOLUTION WILL ONLY GET YOU SO FAR, there is NO REASON for alien design to be boring! Except for LACK OF IMAGINATION. SO! Vmna’s species are weird centaur/elephant folks who have big spike-claw feet and move vertically as easily as they move horizontally, and they have no gender and they communicate emotion partially thru scent/pheremones, and they see color different, and a bunch of other shit i’ve forgotten since i wrote the novel, and Vmna themself is just. The Epitome. of their species. in my head. and i love them

AND WITH THAT I THINK I’M DONE???? WOW THANK U SET THIS WAS FUN IF EXHAUSTING! and i hope this is even marginally interesting to someone besides meself

[meowmeowmokka]

Friendly Battles

She walked quietly through the streets. She had stealthily escaped, like a cat, from the rest. Surely they would not realize that she had disappeared as if by magic. She kept walking through those tree-lined streets when she saw that a great fire had come from a place close to where she was. She was suffering from pyro-phobia, getting to the point that if someone lit a match she would be very scared, but to see that already great fire caused some joy. She had found the person she was looking for. Much more behind her, her companions or MODS as they knew and called them, had not noticed the absence. Gabbi had told them to meet and talk to her after completing a small mission and that made them a little worried. Had any problems occurred in his absence? She entered the room. It belonged to an academy in which those people who could control an element studied there how to better manage their powers. There was the person she was looking for. She was of medium height, thin complexion, brown hair that moved slightly due to the wind. She was using his powers, trying to get stronger so she could better control the fire. The girl, seeing the other staring at her, turned her head towards her and she saw something surprising; Had a red eye. She was speechless, did not know what to say. It was a bright reddish eye while the other was brown. “Are you going to stay there for a long time? "Said the girl. The fire ceased for the moment. "Who are you?" The blond woman just said, not that she did not know it beforehand, but she did not want to be a human torch, at least not at the hands of that strange woman. “Do not waste my time, "said the girl with an edge that annoyed Arc," tell me what you want and maybe this way I can help you in some way "the wind changed, the sky covered with gray clouds. “I want to fight against you, "she said, first with a voice broken by fear and then with certainty. Not to fight against her would be a serious mistake, for anyone who chose to fight Arc lost, but that woman seemed strong and self-confident. This woman, whose name was Mokka, created with red spirits many small red spears which she threw against Arc. Arc dodged them quickly but elegantly and drew two large swords which emitted electricity. Throughout the room were the clashes of the metal of the Arc swords against the red spears of Mokka. One of the MODS, called Asa, was the first to realize that the masked blonde was not. Not even Mishy or Raz, who were also MODS, had noticed. They started looking for her, first by HQ believing that, after the mission, she had gone to rest. They went into his office, but she was not there. They were alerted. On the way, looking for Arc through all the offices, they found Gabbi, who carried a mountain of papers that covered her face. Leaving the papers on a table they explained the situation. “You have to find her”Gabbi said worried. Although she knew what Arc's personality was like, she was very appreciative. She would not forgive herself if something bad happened to her or any of the MODS. “Do not worry, we'll bring her safe and sound, "said Jo. “Thank you, "Gabbi- said," I'm sorry I have many papers to read. See you later. "He picked up the delicate stack of papers and went to his office, closing the door behind him. “Well, we got to find Arc”- said Panda. They left HQ, walked and asked people if I had seen it. The answer was the same; do not. They kept looking and searching. “Arc, Arc! "They shouted. No answer. The situation was a bit uncomfortable, all the people were staring at them. They kept asking. The two women were still at odds. The swords of Arc had been thrown into the air, falling and sticking to the ground, but he did not need them because with his power it was more than enough. Mokka's clothes were torn and had quite a lot of burns from Arc's electricity. But she still kept her guard down, Arc had slight burns and the mask was badly damaged, almost revealing her true face. Thunder was heard, and the wind, which before was very weak, was now so strong that it made it almost impossible to see well because of the hair that covered their eyes, especially Mokka. Suddenly there was a voice coming from the entrance. “Arc, stop it. Stop right now” - said a woman of medium height, hair and brown eyes and glasses of black paste; Mishy. The two girls stared at her, confused. Behind her were the rest of the MODS, which after the long search were exhausted. “I just wanted to fight against her, "Arc said childishly. The sky cleared almost immediately, revealing a blue sky with fluffy white clouds. It was not even windy. Mishy grimaced. “We have to go. Gabbi is waiting for us, "she said impassively. “Oh God, what a bad aspect you have. I'll cure you in a second and we'll leave.” As promised, Mishy cured them right there. It took longer than she thought, healing deep wounds and burns with green spirits was no easy task. Although it took longer than planned, the wounds and burns disappeared. After finishing healing them, Arc met with them but Mokka did not stay behind and it was also united next to them. “What has Arc seen in you as to fight against her?” - said Raz as they walked - “because I do not see anything special in you. Well, your red eye. But, except for that, you're a wimpy little girl.” “I've been full of burns from her fire, "Arc said," so she's not that weak.” "As I said,” said Raz, looking at Arc”, weak.” THE END □■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■□ Well, hope you all kinda like this short Victubia story (this also includes you, Arc, as this is my gift for your birthday). I actually loved writing, translating this into English and rereading it. Sorry if my OC appears way too much, it wasn't planned (It should have been Arc, not me).